Page 114 of Ride the Wave

‘Much.’

He reaches down to grasp at my arse, slapping it playfully before he saunters off to another room. I roll my eyes, putting my hands on my hips.

‘Well,’ I sigh, ‘I’m glad I can help insomeway.’

‘You do more than help, London,’ he calls back over his shoulder. ‘You inspire.’

*

I can see for myself now why this contest is a big draw for surf fans: with the dramatic sand-stone cliffs curving around the beach, along the top of which spectators can find a good spot to watch the action on the waves below, Bells Beach is a natural amphitheatre.

After his warm-up this morning, Leo is desperate to get back out onto the waves. I can see it in his bright expression and fidgeting body language as he stands with his father in his wetsuit, looking out from where we’re standing at the top of the cliffs, discussing the water. I’m waiting to the side, soaking in the buzzing atmosphere as the surfers chat and mingle with their supporters. Despite it being the break of dawn, the energy here is electric.

Adriano smiles warmly at me as he leaves Leo to have a moment to himself, stepping back to ask how I’m feeling.

‘Good,’ I say, wrapping my jacket around me a little tighter, before I lower my voice a notch to add, ‘Nervous, but don’t tell Leo that. Are the conditions good for his heat today? I don’t really know what you’re looking for.’

Adriano nods, rubbing his hands together. ‘Yes, it’s a great start to the competition. Perfect Bells off-shore winds, we’re looking at six- to eight- footers this morning, hopefully the odd bigger set. The swell was very big yesterday – eight- to ten-foot faces – so it peaked then, but the conditions will be very pleasing for the rest of the week.’

‘Okay, so… good waves?’ I translate.

‘Good waves,’ he confirms, shooting me a smile.

‘Remind me how this all works again. Will Leo be surfing first?’

‘One of the first heats, yes. They’re starting with the men’s opening rounds. So he’ll compete in a heat with another two surfers, three in total out there in the water together. Each heat is thirty minutes and you can surf as many waves as you like; there’s no maximum. You have to choose carefully, though, because of the time limit. The surfers are scored by the judges on each wave they surf out of ten. They then add together each surfer’s two best scoring waves to give them their heat total – this is out of twenty. The top two surfers go through to next heat.’

I grimace. ‘But one of the three is eliminated from the competition.’

‘No, they go into the Elimination Round. The surfers who place last inthatone are then out.’

‘Okay, so even if he doesn’t score top of his three this morning, he still has a chance of going through to the next round.’ I chew on my lip, my forehead furrowed in concentration. ‘How many rounds are there?’

‘This is the Seeding Round and then, as mentioned, you also have the Elimination Round – then they go into one-on-one heats for the Round of thirty-two, then it’s the Round of sixteen, then we have the Quarterfinals, Semifinals and eventually the Finals.’

I blow the air out of my cheeks. ‘It’s going to be a busy few days.’

He nods. ‘Yes. Of course, you also have to take into account that the competition relies on the natural elements so we’re working around the best swells, waves, the wind and the tides – we need to have the right conditions to compete.’

‘So we don’t know if this is going to be wrapped up in five days or twelve?’

He quirks a brow. ‘The weather keeps us on our toes. But, it’s looking good to start.’

‘Can I ask a stupid surf question?’

‘You could never ask me a stupid question when it comes to surfing, Iris!’ he insists, clapping me on the back. ‘I love that you are interested. Go.’

‘When I watch people surfing, they all look good to me unless they, you know, properly fall,’ I point out. ‘So, how does a judge tell that one surfer is better than another?’

‘They are scoring on a few different things,’ he tells me, gesturing to the surfers in the water warming up. ‘They’re looking for speed, power and balance. Then the manoeuvres: the variety and combination of those manoeuvres, how well they are executed, how interesting they are, things like that. But also, the judges take into account the conditions – how difficult they are for the surfers to face. And how committed are the surfers to a wave? The worst is when a surfer gets a good wave but they do not make the most of it.’ He flashes me a knowing smile. ‘I never have to worry about that with Leo. Remember what I said in Meia Praia? He plays across the wave. Beautiful to watch, beautiful.’

Grinning back at me over his shoulder, Leo comes to join us, his eyes brimming with excitement. I’m trying to work out what he’s reminding me of and then I realise it’s that video I watched of him when he was a grom: laughing with Ethan, dreaming of a lifetime of doing nothing but travelling the world to surf the best and biggest waves together.

‘I think it’s going to be a great day,’ Leo says, biting his lip.

‘You will make it so,’ Adriano says, grabbing his son’s arm and squeezing it. ‘No matter what the result, have fun out there this morning.’

He glances at the ocean. ‘If I remember to.’

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