When the guys asked me
if I was down to surf Mussell Rock they called it a mish (mission). The mish to Mussell Rock required a 20 minute
paddle across a channel followed by a 30 minute hike down the beach. The break was sheltered from the wind, and
the boys claimed to always surf it alone. We loaded into two cars and parked at
a boat ramp. After the hour journey that
involved a long paddle and walk, aside from a herd of cattle, we found the spot
totally secluded as promised.
I sat in the glassy
Tasman sea watching the sun gradually disappear creating a dreamy, metallic
glow across the face of the water. When sets pulsed through, there were more
than enough waves for the four local rippers and I to share. The waves broke in
shallow water as wedgey, walled-up, A-frames.
No one expected the conditions to be so flawless. The energy from the pristine surf transferred
to our spirits as we flew on wave after wave and hooted and hollered for one
another’s heroic late drops and strong turns that threw spray over the back of
the wave. Near the end of the session,
after a fast left, my leash snapped and broke when I paddled against a massive
set. Even though I was sad to retire my
blue leash, I still felt like the luckiest girl alive.
The priceless knowledge
local surfers shared drastically altered my surf trip from good to
unforgettable. Kiwis, people from New
Zealand, have a reputation for being some of the friendliest people on the
planet, and I discovered that to be a fact.
I traveled to New Zealand by myself with confidence; it was simple to
get around and safe. However, I prepared
months in advance by praying that God would place the right people in my path. Even though I arrived alone, by the time I
left I realized I did not spend one day surfing without a friend.
My first days in NZ were
spent in Auckland, visiting Rachael, a girl that I met when I lived in
Nicaragua. Her accent, chilled out
attitude, and the way she spoke about the beauty and surf in New Zealand worked
on me like a commercial. Rachael taught
me some slang, like the term “sweetas.”
People used this when they really liked anything, it was “sweetas,”
pronounced “sweet_az.” Rach also hooked
me up with her surf hungry friend, Stacey. Stacey and I surfed at Piha beach my
first day in NZ, and then she took me to a lesser known beach called
Tawharanui. The view from the headland revealed waves breaking along three
beaches next to each other. We surfed all three, and I scored a few fast, head
high barrels. 
At the third spot, as
the sun descended, it spilled a pink hue over the green, hilly horizon and the
volcano in the distance. A guy in the lineup said, "That’s my
valentine," and stared at the intense colors. I forgot it was Valentine's
Day. Suddenly, a peeling wave came
straight toward us. I wanted to paddle
for it, but he was closer to the peak. "Go for it," he said. I
dropped in and rode it all the way to the beach. That wave was my
Valentine. As we struggled to pull off
our wetsuit tops in the parking lot, the guy walked by. "Thanks for the
wave," I said. He stopped and chatted about the surf and checked out my
board. When I told him I was heading to Rags, (Raglan) he said he had a house
there, and offered to drive me and even let me stay at his place. Once he was gone, I told
Stacey there was no way I would go away with a stranger; I didn't want to be
that girl on the news who disappeared while traveling. I asked her if it was
creepy that some guy I barely knew invited me to stay with him, and she looked
at me like I was the crazy one. It was a
very Kiwi thing to do. 
After a week in Raglan,
I went on a road trip to Taranaki, a southern region of the north island.
Taranaki offered numerous consistent surf spots that faced different directions,
giving us an option for every wind or swell condition. We camped on the beach with a beach break and
point break in front of our tent and a waterfall behind it. We surfed remote
spots I would have never found alone. 
Kumera Patch, a reeling
left point, required a 45 minute hike.
We maneuvered through cow patties and pastures that were divided by
electric fences before trekking down a black sand beach. Juggling my surfboard and wetsuit, I
considered myself lucky to have only gotten shocked a few times each way. When I surfed at some new breaks in Taranaki,
locals chatted to me and gave me helpful tips about where to sit so I could
catch more waves. In a world where surfing has grown competitive and common for
locals to be territorial, I couldn't believe they were actually showing me
where to line up! 
A friend I met traveling shared a quote, "I
have friends I hardly know, but the moments we shared I'll never forget." Hiking
down the deserted beach at dusk after the session at Mussell Rock, laughing
with Stacey about sweetas Valentines gifts, and doing the limbo with electric
fences made up a few unforgettable moments.Ephesians 3:20, “God can do anything, you know, far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams!” God answered my prayers far beyond my expectations and surrounded me with incredible people and extravagant local love.
