Exploring Mayan Pyramids By Kite
107 Kilometers of Solo Kiting to Tulum and Back
(Part 1: Riviera Maya – South | See Part 2: Riviera Maya – North)
As my wife and I are enjoying a glass of champagne among beautiful palm trees on a picturesque beach overlooking the turquoise horizon of the Caribbean, my mind is restlessly plotting some kitesurfing adventure. There are no islands along the Mayan Riviera to circumnavigate and I have already covered the 10km radius around our resort. Toying with some new destinations to explore, the Mayan Ruins at Tulum came to mind.
“Our” resort, Barceló Maya Beach, is located just outside of Puerto Aventuras and Tulum is a mere 40 kilometers away if you travel the coastal highway. Deborah and I have visited the Mayan Historical site in Tulum a few times before and so I started to imagine how extraordinary it would be to see El Castillo from the sea side. Before long, the idea was firmly planted. Rather than another cocktail drink from the beach bar, I needed a computer. I needed to Google-scout the shoreline and see what it would probably look like. When I kited around Barbados, I learned how scary cliffs can be, and if I were to find any along the way to Tulum, the mission was off. I pictured that I would kite along the coast from resort to resort and if anything went wrong, I would take a cab or a Collective bus back to Barceló. When I shared my plan with my wife, she just laughed, and so the preparations started; Route study, weather forecast, equipment check, contingency plans, etc.
I was especially meticulous with my route study. I noted every beach and access road to the shore and I tried to identify all potentially dangerous areas where I could get into trouble. The crux of my journey seemed to be Xel-ha wilderness. It showed on Google Map like a totally uninhabited jungle about 4 kilometers long with no access roads or beaches. The light wind weather forecast for the next 5 days dictated the use of my FS 21m kite, and of course, the Flyrace board. I would have preferred 14-15kt winds and my 15m kite but that luxury didn’t seem to be in the books for me this time. For extra safety precautions, I always carry my SPOT Messenger. It is a satellite device that allows the user to scramble search and rescue service worldwide with a single push of a button. Fortunately, I have never had to press the red SOS button, but I use it mostly for its tracking capability. My family can see my whereabouts in the real time and it gives them some peace of mind while I am roaming the wilderness or the seas. Recently, I added a GPS watch to my equipment lineup for better navigational guidance. As I learned in Cuba, when a person gets himself beached in the middle of nowhere, it really helps to know exactly where the hell he got himself in trouble. I finally uploaded the kiting route I created into my watch, rehashed my plan and the contingency procedures with my wife, and the mission was on.
Two days later, I cast off from Barceló Maya Beach at 8:15 am with a few clouds in the sky and the ENE wind at 12-13kts. The sea was fairly calm and the swell seemed to be within 2-4 feet. I felt excited. The initial conditions of my trip were superb and I was making very long broad-reach port tacks along the shore. When I felt a little too far offshore, I simply switched legs and surfed the gentle waves closer in. Pure pleasure. Soon I passed X-Puha and Yal-ku Laguna, where I was introduced to the first areas of rugged land with no beaches to land. The coast was formed by sharp lava formations but they were no higher than a meter or so. Rolling waves were splashing onto the rock, but I felt fairly content that I would be able to climb out of the water in case of emergency. Imagining the sea in a rougher mood gave me a new appreciation for my gentle 12-knot breeze.
An occasional glance at my GPS watch revealed that I was approaching Akumal area. The shore should open around the next point and a long sandy cove strewn with resorts should ease my nerves. Even though I had felt safe during my journey so far, kiting through fairly remote areas makes a person constantly assess and re-assess the situation and continuously modify the course of action in case of trouble. I love this “soft adrenalin rush,” but it also feels good to see a landing site once in a while. Kiting through Akumal was a pleasure; fishing boats here and there, occasional early swimmers, and a few ambitious joggers. The wind was steady; things were going really well so far.
As I kited along, I passed a few beautiful coves with untouched white sand beaches. At a closer look, though, I realized that these beaches were just decoys! The coves were protected by a shallow reef through which I didn’t dare to go. There were rocks occasionally sticking out of the water and the crushing waves seemed relentless. The shallow reef made perfect conditions for the waves to build and the swell was well over my head in those areas. I had to stay out to sea. At first, this didn’t unnerve me because I could simply kite past fairly quickly and look for another beach. However, when the situation at the next beach looked even worse, I started to worry. Beaches used to be my safe haven and the lava areas my potential enemy. Not so much anymore! The white sand beaches turned into hard-to-get bitches! This situation started to bother me because I felt unable to calculate the level of risk I was taking. Had I had a support boat, this wouldn’t have been an issue. Kiting totally alone with nobody else in sight is different. Going blindly forward and hoping for the best is not my style and so I had to make a plan. Besides, I was getting closer to the Xel-ha wilderness, which I feared the most. I felt exhausted and so it was time to act. I needed to find out how fortified these beaches really were and whether I could still consider them as my contingency landing sites. I kited along the reef just shy of the crushing rollers searching for a path through. I watched for the rocks rising out of the water and tried to assess the depth among them. I paid attention to every color change in the water that would suggest lurking danger. When I finally spotted a reasonable path, I timed the waves, and went in like a pro. Two minutes later, I stood on the beach with my kite at 12 o’clock. Life was good again. The beach was very steep and narrow and so I kept my kite flying while resting and enjoying the view.
Ten minutes later I was back in the water pressing on. Xel-ha wilderness was next to pass. If the relief of the shore allowed for a safe passage, I believed I could make it all the way to Tulum. As I finally approached Xel-ha, I was pleased to see no cliffs. All I could see was a rugged lava shore with no signs of civilization. The land also seemed to be walkable, in case of emergency, and so I kept my course towards Tulum. I shifted my focus fully onto my kiting and enjoyed the steady wind singing gently through the lines. I was fairly close to the shore and the land was passing by. When I was on the other side of this totally uninhabited area, I had to smile. Kiting through my most feared portion of the trip was, in actuality, no problem at all.
Tulum was about 10 kilometers away at this point, and I felt really good. The wind was still between 10-12 knots and I anticipated kiting along one, long, beautiful sand beach for the rest of my journey. In the next few minutes I turned around a point and the coast opened up. I could see resorts, boats, and people in the distance. Unfortunately, my feeling of joy was short-lived. There was a god damned reef in the way with huge waves rolling across! I had to stay outside and eventually find a way through. I slowed down, made sure I didn’t get too close to the pummeling rollers, and tried to look for a passage. The reef was large and really shallow as I could see the coral coming out of the water very frequently. To make the things worse, in the wake of each crushing wave, the water turned into white foam, hiding all obstacles underneath. As I focused mostly on my path finding action, I didn’t realize right away how far off shore I was getting. The coast line turned quite a bit inland but the reef didn’t. When it finally hit me, it was too late and the situation became scary fast. As I couldn’t find a safe way through, I started to feel trapped out in the sea. I found myself quickly out of my comfort zone and the soft adrenalin changed into fear. If I had an equipment failure or if I got crushed onto the reef by the rolling waves, I would be in deep trouble. As there were no boats or people around, this was a bit insane. I had to find the way through the reef rather quickly and get closer to the shore. This type of action was nuts without a support boat and I was really angry about letting my safety guard down. I reluctantly picked a spot and started my way in. When I was on the reef, the coral washed out of the water awfully close on a few occasions, but I successfully maneuvered among these tiny islands of danger. There were moments of prayer that I would not hit any hidden rock in the foamy water and my nerves were taut until the water color finally changed again and I could see some consistent depth underneath my board. I was through! Before I could shake the stress off, I found myself in a kitesurfing paradise. I was surrounded by light blue, lagoon-type, crystal clear, flat water as if there were no wind. As my kite still flew beautifully, I realized that the reef was at fault again. No waves inside the reef! This was the most amazing flat water kiting of my life! Miles and miles of open water with nothing more than just a ripple here and there. The water was so clear and the bottom so interesting that I felt like I was snorkeling rather than kiting. Heaven on Earth.
Soon I passed Dreams Tulum Resort and I could see the Mayan ruins on the horizon. The rest of my journey was really like a dream. I felt overwhelmed, unable to absorb all that beauty around me. I floated through the world of turquoise water with lots of aqua life underneath my feet and towering cliffs, with Mayan Ruins above my head. I made one triumphant pass in front of El Castillo to enjoy the ruins and to show off. I could see hundreds of tourists taking pictures of a crazy kiter who appeared from nowhere.
I landed my kite on a public beach about a kilometer south of the ruins. I felt great. I ate my two bananas and rested. It was only 11:15am and the local beach just seemed to be waking up to a new day. As the wind was extremely light there and I didn’t want to get stuck, I was back on the water soon. I waved good bye to the Ruins and surfed back into the flat water kiting paradise. One more hairy pass through the coral reef, and once I was out on the open sea I set the course home. The wind was just perfect, about 11 knots from the East. I put the fin in my board all the way down and tacked into the wind. To my surprise, my close-reach starboard tack was almost parallel with the coast. My progress was amazing.
As I knew the landmarks and all the pit falls along the way, I could relax and kite with unencumbered pleasure. An occasional glance at my watch told me that I was doing 24km/h on average. My legs were buckling and my body was crying for a break but my mind was totally exhilarated. When I successfully passed the Xel-ha wilderness, I threw a one finger salute to my sandy bitches and tracked home. I landed my kite at Barceló Maya Beach at 2:15pm. By 4pm, my wife and I were on our second glass of champagne among beautiful palm trees on a picturesque beach overlooking the turquoise horizon of the Caribbean…
TRIP STATISTICS ____________________________________________ Total distance kited: 107.33km Total time kiting: 5 hours 18 minutes Maximum kiting speed: 31.7 km/h Average kiting speed: 20.25 km/h Number of stops: 2 (8 min. & 25 min.) Calories burned: 1392 kcal ____________________________________________ Interactive map and detailed statistics: SUUNTO Ambit2