And the next story begins with our return to the gem of the NZ coast, Piha. We had been surfing, camping, making soup, and living the dream up and down the NZ coast for the past few weeks. One night while sleeping on the beach we were rousted by three young ladies who were quite inquisitive of our story, what we were doing and wanted to party, so we were invited to a bonfire down the beach... hesitantly we accepted the offer and went...as expected the girls were duds, but unexpectedly we met a guy named Floyd who turned out to be one of the coolest kids in Piha. We met with him the next morning at his house for tea and a quick internet session and he told us to shoot up north to an epic left point setup to catch the remainders of a solid groundswell.
We made it up after hours of driving, a 4wd rock crawl over high tide soaked rocks and found the waves to be dismal so we opted to seek excitement elsewhere... We geared up with copious amounts of the Essential and 4 wheel drove our Deltron across the endless low tide beach doing 100km/h plus. In a glorious moment of genius we grabbed our surfboard straps, tied them to the back bumper, and towed each other behind the van on Dane's finless surfboard along the tide line amongst the surges. A few epic maneuvers went down, but none without equally epic battle scars and bruises! It was up there as one of the most fun things we have done on tour to date although we would realize a week later we had fried our alternator in the saltwater after our battleship was nearly taken by a few heavy shorebreak sets!
And back to Piha once more to find our friends, pumping waves, and the mellow vibes of the Piha lifestyle. We posted daily at team Piha HQ, aka the Smith residence and ate fresh fish burgers and hung out with more of NZ's finest characters. On one night out we piled a few Piha boys into our Deltron and drove out to Auckland to hit up the town scene, but failed miserably when the Deltron died a slow death. First the radio went out, then the lights, and then just stopped in the middle of an intersection. The Alternator was fried due to our tow-in exploits and the beast no longer had juice. Man power was used to push it to the nearest gas station, leaving it there overnight continuing on with our evening plans. The next morning we towed it back to Piha HQ. A few nights later we even attended a party at the local surf club with great live music provided by our two good buddies, the notorious DJ Tom and Dj Blackie, with the intermittent heavy soul rocking sounds of Mr. Smith's band. We raged so hard we didn't make it out of the building and ended up sleeping in critical bunks tucked away in a back room! We awoke and were forced to hike through miles of tropical bush all morning in order to return to our broken van...
The next few days we lived in luxury, Erik's mom and sister visited and rented an exquisite house right on the beach in South Piha. We used these days to relax, recharge Deltron's battery and replaced the alternator belt in order to get the beast roaring again. We had 3 days until we flew out so it was off to Auckland to attempt to sell the van... Luckily during this hectic process we kept our composure while staying at Auckland's swankiest hotel, The Langham, thanks to Erik and his buddy. We spent hours upon hours at the Chuan Spa, meandering from the sauna to the steam room to the ice shower, and then doing it all over again, it was a nice change from living in a van!
We used urban guerilla tactics to sell our van by driving around the streets vocally advertising. Miraculously, three Scottish blokes actually ran us down after a few blocks and inquired. A day later, after a series of mishaps, the van was under new ownership and we were free to leave the country! Altogether it took one day to buy the beast and two days to sell it.
To celebrate the sale along with our departure from NZ a small but elite team of Piha boys accompanied by their ladies joined us for a farewell party in our hotel room. We raged until the sun came up then hopped on a plane to Australia.
We landed in Sydney midday with no clue what to do but managed to rent the loudest and ugliest wicked camper in the whole country. We cruised south to Ulladulla, found waves, mellow vibes, and engaged ourselves in a week long detoxification and fast to rid our bodies of our evils. While making yummy veggie broth one day a kind lady inquired about our scene and mentioned she had a brother up north around where we were headed. We got a hold of him on her phone and he turned out to be none other than the legendary movie star and pro surfer Robbie Page. He knew a few of the boys from Monterey and had surfed with them at some of our best spots and told us to call him when we were in his town of Crescent Head to go surf.
So our path lead us north and we continued to find numerous nooks and crannies with uncrowded quality waves. In the town of Port Macquarie our third musketeer Erik decided it was his time to leave the tour. His 3 month stint had been long enough and he needed to attend to his life at home. The next morning Erik was like a Big Foot sighting; there one moment and then gone into the abyss. And then there was two, Pat and Dane...
But the tour rambled on, we ventured north to Crescent Head, on the way scoring head high pumping waves, filming Roo's and searching for Koala's. We took a ferry across a body of water and slipped onto a desolated dirt road which warped our reality and spat us out into a fairy dust dream land...Crescent Head.
We spent a couple days surfing, hanging out, and eating but decided it was time to leave, bummed that we had lost Robbie's number and were unable to contact him... However, on our way out of town, to replace the surf guide book that Pat had thrown out the window due to the constant aggravation that it caused, we stopped at a surf shop... Standing at the counter was a 6'2” blonde beast of a man. We couldn't believe our eyes, could it be Robbie Page?! Yep, it was! He invited us back to his house for tea and we eagerly obliged. We followed him on dirt roads deep into the Australian bush and hung out in his open aired jungle house learning valuable life lessons from the Guru himself...
Our fairytale had to come to a momentary halt as we had to mix business with pleasure and meet up with the Rhythm crew on the Goldy. We toured up, scored D-bah in the mornings, the Superbank in the evenings, and met up with Jamahl Grey. We visited the Rhythm Australian headquarters, saw their party room, and acquired much needed clean towels!
We went up to Brisbane to party for Anzac day, we have no idea what it means but apparently it's a big deal over here. Brisbane had no waves, we partied hard, got a little weird, and Pat got eggy...
Soon it was time to head south again to our fairy dream land and on the way we scored an epic right and even surfed it under the full moon. We continued south, and were flagged down by a young German lady wanting a ride... there wasn't much space, but she crawled in anyways... and one ride turned into another and into another and she stayed with us for a few days.
Made it back to Crescent Head and were greeted with miles of empty head high beach break, undoubtedly some of the best days of our lives. We would wake up with the sun, walk down the beach, and surf and film all day. Evenings were spent listening to the teaching of our Guru, Robbie, and friends... The swell died and the wind switched south, naturally hinting to a southerly progression of the tour. So we said our farewells and departed from our friends on the same soil where the aborigines and the French first said their hello's and goodbye's.
We went south towards Sydney loaded with heaps of Cream wax (www.Creamsurfing.com, its insanely sticky, thanks Robbie, great product), no German hitchhiker, just the lovely company of each other...
Currently we are in Sydney, flying to Indo in two days, happy Mother's day to our mommies. Trudy and Susan we love you. Until next time....whenever that may be...
-Pat and Dane
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