Days alone: Jeffrey’s Bay, South Africa

Image of the day:


View from my window: Rogue set on a calm day at J-Bay


On the 16th after dropping Dominique off at the airport in Port Elizabeth for a flight to Cape Town to teach a dance workshop this weekend, I made my way down to Jeffrey’s Bay in the mid-morning and had a great surf session that afternoon in some really nice waves at Super Tubes with some outstanding local surfers – better than I’ve seen anywhere in fact and no localism issues what so ever.  I love South Africa for this and so many other things!


J-Bay, November 16th, 20011

I’ve had a nice taste of the town this time round.  I bought a wetsuit at Core after a nice tip from the owner of Surf Africa sent me there. I ate very well at Kitchen Windows, 3 Fat Fish as well as a good lunch at the Sunflower café. The highlight has been treating myself to rooms with a view over the break at African Perfection! Perfect placement…


Sitting on the deck outside my perfect room at African Perfection overlooking Super Tubes on a small windless morning at 5:30 in the morning, I sip my instant coffee and wonder at this beautiful place!

What calm. The only energy stirring is the restlessness of the surfers that have chosen to go out, or those still choosing. I’ve chosen not to. It’s not that I don’t mind sitting in the water with next to no waves, it’s rather that I would like to enjoy the calm of this morning from this perfect perch and write before hitting the road later this morning. That strange feeling of guilt – I should be out, no matter what – is not with me today, no not this morning.  I feel quite good right where I am.

I see the young boy I’ve been watching – and who has been watching me – arrive at the beach now. It’s 6am and he’s been sitting on the benches watching the surfers every time I’ve been out. He seems to be about 15-16 with that mildly disarming look of someone who is not entirely right, with kind, wild eyes, he always looks up at me smiles and waves as I’ve walked past him down to the water. I imagine that he yearns to go in the water, yet something blocks him from doing so. Is it a parent, a thought, a fear, or a feeling… who knows?  Yesterday I wanted to ask him, but he was gone by the time I came out of the water. How many areas in our life do we find ourselves like this boy, sitting on the beach wondering, waiting, wanting?  and what does it take to finally take that leap? Getting past the real and imaginary blocks and beliefs we have acquired through life seems to be an endless struggle. 

I’m glad he’s here, both as a reminder to myself and for the comfort he’s provided me – as perhaps the only guy watching me surf – or as I chose to believe watching over me as I surfed…  He is a good part of this beach

The other imagining I have around him is that perhaps he lost someone or something in the water and that every day comes down hoping to they will come back. I’ve never seen the ocean give back what she’s taken or made her own.