Talk to the wombat cos the kitesurfer ain’t listening... Part 2

by Emilie Marx
(Part 2/3)

My great truth number two, “opening the safety is the least one can do to do some damage control in swell”, had been put online few hours earlier.
What a beautiful wombat moment that was.
“Wave crashing into kite? Decision needs to be taken to avoid imminent danger? Let’s just look the opposite way and everything will be fine….”

I felt the wave dragging the kite under, I got pulled along, in this oh so delectable human submarine position we’ve all experienced at some stage, still thinking everything was under control. I’m an eternal optimist (with me, everything’s always way fine (until it’s not any more!)).
I got to experience the limits of my optimism when I re-launched my kite…
It was the perfect demonstration of my truth number one…

My kite is blue, remember?
Now I can affirm it isn’t “sky blue” though. The colour difference is very obvious when observed through a window in the canopy…

Funny how a kite can look like a flying skeleton when the inflated struts and leading edge – miraculously - still hold a flapping canopy….
I had already had that thought after having had a bit of a violent crash while looping my now ex-switchblade…
I had found it amazing then that the kite not only still had it’s one pump system intact (beautiful inflated bone structure), but that it could actually still get up in the air while missing some entire panels.

So that’s two kites in six months, doesn’t beat my two kites in two hours, but it’s a good average.

When I worked in shops, people would ask me “When are they gonna build a surf-proof kite?”
I was always tempted to reply that a surf proof kite more than likely wouldn’t fly any more…

Hurricane Omar hit us three months ago; it was my first hurricane (I was very excited!).
I’ve always loved how Mother Nature can put things back into perspective when showing her power.

What amazed me the most out of the event was the pressure drop that preceded the storm. I could feel it in my head, in my joints…
I went to the spot from which I kite and surf a couple of hours before it started raining: the ocean was as glassy as a mirror, the atmosphere totally windless, everything was so still it seemed that even flies had stopped flying. I had never heard such silence...
It was very different from the desert’s silence (which is one of the most beautiful things to hear in the world!). It was the mythic (and yet very real) calm before the storm.
The second thing that shocked me the most was the landscape the next morning (as I peacefully slept through the eye of the hurricane), but not because of blown trees or destroyed houses, what blew me away was that the coastline had changed…

It showed me that land isn’t surf proof.
Consequently, a surf proof kite is a complete utopia.

Plus the truth is, a surf proof (or even kiteloop proof) kite wouldn’t be good for the industry… I guess kites must burst, tear, shred, explode, rip.
If they didn’t, there wouldn’t be any money to develop new technologies (to try to make them surf proof!)…

My conclusion: by having a “wombat moment”, I simply brought my contribution to the kitesurfing industry’s welfare…

Okay, great.
I’ve had a wombat moment and I’m kiteless. Now what?
I guess it all comes down to perspectives: the glass is always half full or half empty isn’t it?
There are so many ways to look at the situation, “I have trashed gear” or “I’m about to get new gear” – well, that’s for the lucky guy who can afford it.
“I have no money” or “I have a sewing machine” - which happened indirectly to be the case.
“My new kite is destroyed” or “My kite is newly stitched” - thanks to the kiting brotherhood there again because I really suck at sewing!

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