Around Barbados by Kite – 120km of Nonstop Adventure!
De Action in Barbados
When I received a text message from my friend Marty inviting me to tag along with him to Barbados for a short kite-surfing trip, my mind was already there. I packed my gear and off we went.
We were greeted with a 20-knot wind which remained nearly constant for the next two days. Marty and I kited quite hard both days because he had only two days on the island before he had to return back to work. Our action was at Silver Rock Beach “De Action Beach” which is the most famous kitesurfing spot in Barbados. The world renowned windsurfer and legendary waterman Brian Talma operates his shop right there.
When Marty left, I still had a few more days on the island and so I looked for another adventure. I was intrigued by the thought of attempting to kite all the way around Barbados. As unthinkable as it may sound, a few local watermen have successfully made this trip and so I knew it was possible. When I carefully approached Brian with my plan, he casually replied: “Action!” When I said however that I wanted to do it the next day, he just smiled and replied that there wasn’t going to be enough wind to kite, let alone to circumnavigate the entire island! The forecast of ESE wind at 13-15kt seemed, however, absolutely perfect to me. Brian didn’t know about my light-wind, secret weapons and so I decided to demonstrate my abilities first. I took my Flysurfer 15m kite, Flyrace twin-tip racing board and went out kiting. The wind was barely 12 knots and nobody was kiting that day. After I made a few long tacks and disappeared upwind, Brian was ready to talk business. A small fishing boat was gassed up and the legendary boat captain Ronald “Full Moon” Price agreed to provide support. The Action was on! I pulled out a Google map on my iPhone and started to study landmarks around 97km long Barbadian coastline.
The next day we met at 9am. Even though it rained pretty hard for a while as I was setting up my kite, I was quite happy with the steady 14kt ESE wind. Captain Full Moon and I cast off from De Action Beach around 9:30am. I had 3 liters of water in my camel pack and that was it. No drinks or food were going to be served on this trip.
I decided to travel counterclockwise. The first part of my trip was a 16km up-wind trudge. I pushed the fin in my board all the way down and I started to tack hard into the wind. Soon I was kiting along a shore lined with ominous cliffs and no beaches. The waves were rolling violently at some coves and so I rode about one half kilometer away from the shore. The wave forecast for the day was 1.6m and it seemed to be about right.
My boat captain, Full Moon, is a well-respected fisherman in the local community and an outstanding windsurfer. He performed this role as a rescue boat captain many times before and he knows the island inside out. I couldn’t ask for a better wingman. One thing that I realized very quickly however was the fact that his being a true child of the sea made his perception of danger vastly different from mine. Sometimes he kept driving his boat kilometers away and I couldn’t see his yellow boat in the chop. To me, the 30m-high cliffs with the water splashing half way up were terrifying. My long distance from the shore to avoid rolling waves was terrifying. The swell occasionally reaching well over 2 meters was terrifying. I needed to see that small yellow boat!
I was slowly approaching the easternmost point of the island and the situation seemed to be getting uglier. The waves got bigger and it wasn’t unusual for me to see a 3m-wall of water coming at me fast. At any cost I had to stay on top of those. If I got caught in one of these rollers, my journey would be over. The reason for these unusual waves was a coral reef located a few kilometers off shore. I rode inside the reef which, in high seas, would be suicide. These occasional 3m swells were just sobering reminders of who is in charge in the deep sea. My first scary moment of the trip happened right there. Negotiating the waves and looking over my shoulder to see what was coming was essential. I either had to steer hard towards the big waves to make it on top before they rolled or, if there was not enough time, I had to turn left towards the shore to run away from them. My dagger board proved to be excellent for this “turning action.”
I looked over the shoulder and the big one was coming. I steered towards the wave and made it comfortably on top of it. To my sheer terror, there was another big wave right behind and she was almost ready to roll. Clearly, the God of the Barbadian waters screwed up the spacing between those two and I knew I was in trouble. I steered away but there was no time. I heard the roar of the crushing monster right behind my back and I got pummeled. The board was knocked right off of my feet and I was holding onto my bar for life. After a few long seconds, I came out of the white soup and my kite was still flying above my head. A moment of relief. Luckily, my board leash didn’t break either and so I had everything I needed to quickly ride away and get ready for the next big one…
When I finally passed the light house and started to turn northbound, the situation changed rapidly. No more big waves, just a messy soup. The reef, the currents, and the tip of the island caused the waves to have practically no order. Then I passed Ragged Point and the ride became pure pleasure. I could see my beloved yellow boat in the distance, the wind was at my back, the ocean was fairly calm, and I finally had time to look around and enjoy life. Occasionally I spooked schools of flying fish and other times I saw turtles. I rode like a king. At one point I saw a huge log floating not so far away. It almost looked like an old oak tree thump to me. As I rode right by, I realized these were two huge mating turtles. How cool is that?
I also marveled at the bravery of the four legendary kiters who attempted this voyage in much harsher conditions. Brian Talma had a life and death experience close to Ragged Point. His kite was swallowed by one of these surprise waves and he was pulled violently towards the cliffs. He knew this would be a certain death and so he let off the kite and found himself alone on the open sea being pulled away from shore. There was no rescue boat there for him, there was nobody to help…
As I cruise along, I finally recognize a few landmarks from my Google map studies. I was about half way up the east coast and that made me happy. I felt tired though. I was in my 4th hour of kiting and my knees, back, and thighs were crying for a break. There were kilometers and kilometers of beautiful beaches on my left but I was quite far from the shore. I figured later that I rode about 1.5km off shore for most of my trip. With the beaches in sight, I felt safe and content. I was aware though that I didn’t see Full Moon for more than half an hour. As I was slowly reaching the end of my paradise beaches, and some harsh cliffs started to loom again on the coastline, I needed to see my boat! Tired like hell and unable to locate my boat, I decided to land on the beach and wait there. Little did I know what a bad idea this was! Those lovely looking distant beaches were in actuality one of the most treacherous parts of the east coast. There are corals everywhere there, immense rip currents, and the surf usually high and deadly. I did not know this and so I was on a long broad reach tack going right in.
As I came closer to the shore, I had to contend with surprisingly big rolling waves. They were nicely spaced and I actually had very little trouble navigating my way in. The water was rather milky with a lot of churned-up sand from the crashing waves. I rode the waves with utmost joy, came about 20 meters from the shore, and then the unthinkable happened. As the water moved in and out, a huge coral rose out of the water right in front of me. I hit it in full speed with my keel and got catapulted from the board into the water and onto some more coral. I feared the worst. I was going to be dragged to the shore through the sharp coral reef. Fortunately, the wind was fairly light and I found my kite still in the air. I quickly stood up, didn’t seem to be hurt, and tried to walk towards the shore. There were a dozen local teenage boys playing on the otherwise totally deserted beach watching my show. I got knocked out a few more times by incoming waves but I made it to the shore in one piece. The board was fine but the keel was jammed at an angle in the casing with such a force that I couldn’t fix it with one hand. I also noticed that my right leg was bleeding from my coral-action and so I figured it was time to land my kite. The boys were very eager to help and before I had a chance to tell them what to do they grabbed the lines, worked their way towards the kite, smothered the canopy, and held it victoriously. It was quite funny actually and it made me smile. I met so many nice people in Barbados and this was like a testament of their good hearts. Together we put the kite down in the sand and I started to look for my captain. And there he was, waiting about 200m off shore, wondering what the hell all this action was about.
So much for a nice break; I needed to get back out to sea. I unjammed my fin, painfully untangled my kite and lines, asked the boys about the reef, and tried to figure out how to get over the shallow and treacherous waters with the constant breakers coming in. The boys gave me a great tip to walk slowly on the coral to let the sea weed settle under my feet and thus cover some of the sharp edges. I walked first 10m and then carefully body-dragged away from the shore. With a bit of luck in timing the next crushing wave I got on the board and rode back to the sea in style. Ironically, the ocean felt like home to me at this point and I was really happy to see Full Moon. He told me that I was completely crazy to come on shore in this area and that I was really lucky to get away with just a few scratches. And when Full Moon talks danger it means that I am nearly dead! He also gave me some encouraging news about our location and some less encouraging news about our gas. As there was nothing imminent to worry about, I rode happily away and started to mentally prepare for the leeward side of the island.
I didn’t know the landmarks and so the wind was my only compass. The land seemed to play tricks on me because there actually never was a turning point. There always seemed to be yet another point to pass and then another one. It felt like a never ending battle. Full Moon helped me to decipher my location by driving alongside shouting victoriously that we were on top of the island! It was very encouraging to see Moon’s big grin. This was only the third time that Full Moon and I spoke during the trip so far.
Kiting along the leeward side of the island was a big unknown for me. I had absolutely no idea what to expect and so I tacked the hell out into the ocean as far as my nerves allowed. I wanted to remain clear of the violent turbulence the island might create. The coast line was an uninviting industrial area anyway. There was an awful long pier sticking at least 300m out to the sea for big tankers to haul cement from the nearby Arawak factory. I must have been well over two kilometers from the shore when I was finally introduced to the leeward-side wind conditions.
The wind grew generally stronger throughout the last three hours and it was blowing about 17 knots on average. It didn’t take long and I was kiting in forceful gusts. My kite turned into a bucking horse. I was sheeting in and out constantly to remain in control of the tension on the lines. There were moments where my kite nearly inverted in the pockets of almost no wind abruptly followed by moments of explosive gusts. This was a constant action, an immense labor with absolutely no time to look for a boat. To me, this was the inevitable end of my journey. It was just a matter of time before I was lofted and smashed back to the water with the kite in a total mess. Further, my board wasn’t on the leash anymore as it gotten damaged in my coral-catapulting action. Full Moon kept closer to the shore, as I saw him the last time before this wild rodeo started. I needed the boat desperately in this portion of my ride because there was simply no way for me to make it back to land. If anything happened, the currents and winds would blow me away into the ocean. The situation became quite scary and I started to search for Full Moon every second I could afford to spare. It didn’t take long and I dropped my kite. Luckily, I managed to re-launch, get back to my board, and be back on my feet quick. In a short while I saw my yellow boat and I felt much better. Full Moon saw my kite going down and bolted towards me right away. Even though he must have been more than a kilometer away, he caught up with me very quickly. I was desperately tired, nearly six hours of continuous robust kiting started to take a huge toll on me. We needed gas and so I formulated a plan to go as close to the shore as possible, drop the kite, get to the boat, and be done with this torture. Even if I were physically able to continue this full-on adventure, I was quite sure that launching the kite from the shore would be next to impossible.
After I left the industrial northwest part of the island behind me, the shore started to show some signs of civilization. I could see small boats and other recreational vessels cruising the calm waters of the west coast. The wind became less violent and much lighter as I was getting closer to the shore. To my absolute surprise, I made it almost all the way to the shore by myself. When I couldn’t fly the kite anymore, I dropped it in the water, wound the lines, rolled about one third of my kite and let my captain tow me the last 10m to the tiny beach in a small town. Full Moon left immediately to get gas and I started to untangle my kite. It was a beautiful afternoon with little to no wind in Upper Carlton. Just a few ripples in a stunningly clear turquois water were a total juxtaposition to the wind-violence a few miles away from shore. When I looked around to absorb this picture-perfect, summer-day scene, I knew that only a loser would finish his journey in these lovely and peaceful conditions. I had to get back to the sea and somehow launch my wet and heavy kite from the boat. When Full Moon got back, I jumped in the boat and back to the sea we went.
To launch a drenched and heavy closed-foil kite from a boat was going to be a challenge to say the least. A full improvisation took place because I had never even heard of such crazy idea before. I went to the front of the boat and instructed Full Moon to set the boat into reverse. As the boat started to move backwards into the wind, I held the center of the kite in the air and let the tips of the kite wade in the water. The air seemed to be coming in to the wet openings on the leading edge and so I remained patient. After a while it was clear that the kite was filling with air. I dropped the kite in the water and started to unwind the lines. Then I jumped in, put the board on my feet, and tried to launch the kite. Absolutely no chance. It was so heavy that it felt like pulling on the rock. I gave the bar to Full Moon and started to swim towards the canopy. I wanted to open the kite even more into the wind. When I was about halfway, I noticed that the kite was actually filling more and more with the air on its own. I decided to swim back and hoped for the best. With the board on my feet and the bar in my hand I rested in the water and watched the kite doing its own thing. In a few minutes it was sitting on the water almost fully inflated but still a little too heavy to launch. By this time I could see that my lines were not tangled and I knew that the victory launch was imminent. When I finally pulled on the front lines, the heavy piece of fabric slowly raised into the air and the water poured heavily from the edges. I looked at Full Moon and he was smiling from ear to ear. Like a true friend, he was extremely happy for me. Action!
My day was at its highest peak so far. Our boat was full of gas, the sea was calm on this side of the island, the wind was manageable, and the late afternoon light was beautiful. I felt rejuvenated by my victorious launch and so I pushed the fin all the way down and pressed on. My progress was amazing. Just one continuous and never ending tack along the rest of the western shore. Saving my energy was my main focus and so I occupied my mind with that. The next landmark was a huge harbor wall in Bridgetown. I kept my distance from the shore because Full Moon had warned me about sketchy winds in this area. When I finally left the harbor behind, the sea got quite choppy again and I started to labor full bore into the wind. I was beyond tired. My body functioned on autopilot and I just hoped that none of my muscles would seize up. My water supply was long gone, I didn’t eat anything during the whole trip, and I basically rode for seven straight hours. I was making super-long tacks into the sea to maximize my upwind progress. Negotiating occasional rolling waves was nothing new to me and so I kept pressing on. Unfortunately, I knew I was losing my battle with time, I knew I was losing my battle with my personal strength, and I felt the end of me was close.
I saw Full Moon coming my way and so I wondered what the news would be. He drove his boat right next to me and shouted that the light house on the horizon was my home. If I made the light house, De Action Beach would be around the corner. This was the first time that I started to really believe that I was going to make it. This was the first time that Full Moon took me in hand and forced me to kite alongside his boat out to the ocean. I lethargically followed. It seemed like there was never going to be the end of this tack. I wanted to turn to switch my legs but Full Moon wouldn’t budge. He just kept going and going. Meanwhile the sun set behind the horizon and the sea was getting dark. When we finally turned around, the island was small and I could barely see the light house. Pressing hard on the board to get every inch of my upwind action, I kept that light house in my crosshairs. It wasn’t enough though and we had to make one more very long tack out to the sea. When we turned back, distant Barbados was almost in the dark and we didn’t have any lights on the boat. If the coastguard noticed us now, Full Moon would be in deep trouble.
We were pushing through the last waves the day brought upon us and we were winning. When I recognized Rescue Beach, I couldn’t restrain my feelings. This was really happening. I was going to be the first non-resident man in the world to make this unthinkable voyage. There are only three other watermen, all locals, who had successfully completed this “Last Waterman Standing” marathon. They are Tony Lorde, Roland Boyce, and Jimmy Marshall.
Riding victoriously by Silver Sands Beach, I knew that my Silver Rock “De Action” Beach was next. Finally I could see the big green light at Brian Talma’s deAction Shop guiding us home. I made a victory shout as I was coming to the beach. To my surprise, there was a lot of cheering coming back from the darkness. Brian Talma and his guys from the shop were there. He was holding a bottle of Champagne above his head cheering and laughing. When I saw the boys waiting for me, the emotions were indescribable. I felt bigger than life, I was surrounded by true friends and local legends and at that moment I was one of them. This was a true full-on adventure, this was De Action in Barbados!
My special thanks go to Brian and especially to my new friend Full Moon. Without his help I couldn’t have made this happen. He was absolutely essential to my success and he was there for me at all times. Even though I was not always able to see the beloved yellow boat, his eyes continuously guarded my kite for all of those 9 grueling hours. At the end of our trip, he was as exhausted as I was if not more. Like the kiter that he follows, he doesn’t eat during the whole trip. He stands behind the wheel and fights the waves the same way as he would on a stand-up-paddle-board.
