Blind Planning
I try to make it up to the deserts of north Western Australia every year. It’s a 15-hour drive from where I live in the Margaret River area. The storms that hit us in the southwest make it an easy decision to head north. I don’t even pay too much attention to the forecast. There’s usually a window, so we just try and go for it. Even if we get skunked, I know we’re bound to have a good time camping, telling stories, fishing, having beers and a few laughs. This year I went up with my wife and daughter. Jay Davies and Dino Adrian—who are both from the same area that I am, and are two of my best friends—also came along. Then John Respondek flew west and drove up with us. We packed up two 4×4 cars full of food, water, beer, a couple boards, and some fishing rods. Then we hooked up the jetski and the boat, and off we went.
Hot and Quiet Terrain
There’s nothing around the camp for hundreds of miles. You’re out there on your own. And it’s really relaxing to get away from everything. Up in the desert, it’s red earth and sand dunes set against some of the most beautifully-colored ocean on the planet. The land and the weather are two of the things I really enjoy the most about being up there. At the time of the year we like to go, in June, it gets really cold at night and in the early morning, but then heats up to the perfect temperature in the daytime. Summer has just passed so it isn’t steaming, but it’s still warm. The heat is really dry. After a few days our skin looked like reptile scales—completely dried up and cracking. But it feels good, just baking in the sun all day. The offshores keep it a little cool, but the water gets warmer than you’d expect.
Oceanic Punch
The surf up north is serious, in terms of size and power. The seasons were changing, so the area was starting to get hit with big storms that come out of the south that time of the year. By the time our crew got there on the first afternoon the surf was maxing, a little too big and raw and wild. The next morning, the swell backed off slightly and the wind switched around. It was perfect-6-foot tubes. That swell hung around for the whole trip. Depending on the wind, the waves were either all time or just really fast and fun, but still with a lot of juice. There are a variety of setups in the area. Some are pretty well known and others are further off the map, but they all have a danger factor to them, whether it’s just heavy water or shallow ledges right at the takeoff.
Little Fish
Dino and Jay are both experienced and knowledgeable fisherman. Respondek and I, on the other hand, are pretty useless. One afternoon early in the trip, he and I were watching the ocean and could see tons of activity. It just looked alive. No one had caught any fish yet, so we jumped on the ski to head out. I remember Dino and Jay looking at us like we were idiots, because we didn’t really know what we were doing. Once we got out there, though, we pulled in yellowfin after yellowfin. They were jumping over the ski. We were both screaming like little kids. When we came back in and the other boys saw what we caught, they were yelling at us to get off so that they could get a turn. They did okay, but Respondek and I caught the biggest fish of the trip. We fed the whole camp on that one afternoon.
Big Fish
Usually the fear and threat of sharks hits harder and harder the farther you get out into the wilderness. And they’re definitely out there in the north. There’s a certain patch of reef that stretches for hundreds of miles, and it has a reputation for a lot of activity. A lot of people lose fish as they’re reeling them in. We saw feeding frenzies from the ski a few times, and had a couple sharks circle us. But I actually feel less worried up there than I do at home in Margaret River. In the north, there’s so much more sea life and food resources for them. The sharks are more likely to be bulls or tigers up there. At home and in the rest of the southwest, they’re usually whites.
Healthy Distance
Most of the trips I do are all about surfing, and surfing top-level, to get clips or work on performance. On a boat trip to the Mentawais, for instance, I’m basically surfing from dawn until dusk, eating, sleeping, and then repeating that routine all day, every day until I go home. It’s very planned and strategic. Out in the desert, there’s less of a focus on surfing and so, in a way, the surfing becomes more enjoyable. It’s like having surfs with your mates when you’re a kid. Plus, a lot of the other campers out there aren’t surfers. They’re retired couples or travelers. Surfing becomes just something that you might do during the day, rather than the goal of the day. Each morning we would check a few spots but if it wasn’t good or if we just weren’t feeling it, we’d cruise or fish or wander around in the sand instead. We just tried to let the day take us wherever it wanted. It’s actually pretty frowned upon out there to be aggressive or too psyched up trying to score. People keep to themselves. If there are guys out at one spot, we’ll try and head to the next one.
Signal Loss
There’s no cell reception out there, so you’re completely switched off from civilization. But there was a day when my wife and I had to head into the closest town, which is about two hours away, to pick up more supplies. When we got close, we started to get reception and our phones just blew up with calls and texts and emails and Instagram notifications. We both started frantically trying to reply to as much of it as we could. It was full madness-banging away nonstop on our phones. It took us forever to get what we needed because we were just so into what we’d missed in the outside world. It was stressful, and we were both kind of angry and arguing and at each other’s throats. As we drove back out we lost service again, and I could feel all the tension disappear. We laughed it off and were both like, “Let’s never go back.” Being in the desert and off the grid, without all those distractions, makes you realize how unimportant all that stuff is.
Caravan Clubbing
I towed a separate caravan for my wife, daughter, and I to camp in. The rest of the crew stayed in Dino’s, who keeps his in a caravan graveyard that sits behind the sand dunes. It’s a tiny, rusty, beaten-up box that can hardly roll down the hill. He only pulls it out about once a year, so he has to clean it out whenever he uses it. Rats, scorpions, and snakes all find there way into it. Once it’s clean, though, it’s pretty comfortable. Dino, Jay, and Respondek all stayed in there, and Dino set up a little kitchen behind it where we’d all cook. It turns into a good little home for how rundown it looks. There was one night, however, where I didn’t know if they or their caravan were going to make it. A storm hit, and from our caravan we could hear theirs shaking on its hinges. For a moment, I thought the whole thing might blow apart.
Simple Living
Camping up in the north lets me slow my life down for a few days, stay in the moment, and enjoy what happens without having too much of an agenda. I was a little worried on this trip that my wife and daughter might not adapt, but they loved it. Plus, I got to hang out with my friends, who are the best people to do a trip like this with. We just got to cruise, surf a bit, fish a lot, and hang around the campfire. Everything was simple. One person would chop firewood, another person would cook, another person would wash dishes. Everybody helped out and played a role. It’s just my favorite thing on earth. I think it’s a great way to live. I think anyone—surfer or not—would benefit from heading off the grid for a bit. It went about as smooth as a trip like that can. No flipped cars, no dead skis. That in itself is a feat.
