Left Hand Clapping, Right Hand Counting

To Whom it May Concern:

What a difference a day makes. The earth juts and Tanner and I have had an experience with a man with 7-pound testicles. One does not cause the other. But imagine being blind in a place like this... it’s the same thing. After Haapiti and those gapping shacks—waves perfect enough to spark both imagination for and fear of god—having that life is hardly more than a... I don’t know, there’s... well, listen:

Speaking of juicy barrels. Nicky grinds her hips so well. So so well. It’s awesome. Can’t even get into a bar, but in French Polynesia they don’t mind. Their hips jitter on their frame and they make you watch their 12-year-old daughters with perfect skin sex their frames. Tight Tight Tight. Push so slow and it’s grippy. Like being just inside as the coral sends the hydro up and out. A lower class D up top too, she has. Two best things. Living without would negate life. Really.

At sea the bunks are shoulder-wide but you find moments. Like on boat checks when Lawrence is on the bottom. The Dragon Fish under the scope and you stop in for a handful. She’s the girl whom a sniff alone will start the rise and pursuit. I know what your saying, ‘you’ve drown on this sort of thing before.’ And I have two responses. I know. And it’s worth it.

Anyway. The reef is out there and it’s a paddle. The eyes can see underneath and when you pop and race, the lip pouting above your head and the urchin spines under a facade of water. You stop. It all stops for a moment. Things are the epitome. And that was safety at Opunohu! On the south side, the side that sits with Teahupoo, the water launches and hurls. Barrels a ford could back into. And they wrap. The critical... oh so super critical, and then the shoulder after the shack and it’s still 7 feet but a little mushier and the 6-3 is like a remote control speed boat with the ocean to piss about on. Bottom turn, cut, spray. Speed, carve. Phreew.

The man couldn’t walk. His testicles were literally the size of basketballs and he needed a wheel-barrel to shuffle about the raw island. The comparison was dumb, after the kayak back with those vertical sheaths of rock between the dank green, falling to the coconut palms below—I humped up there too, to save the day with a coconut one Hinano filled afternoon, I can tell you about that too. It meant more than it was worth, if you know what I mean. That was sort of the start of the position.

Anyway, we gave him poison and he’s no longer with it. It was up the road from the acid innkeeper, he was odd too. And there was the Australian with no place to go. Tall, rib problems from a run it with a massive coral, just standing out there for hours and hours. The point is to understand that nothing that he had to do, how he got there and how he was able to stay.

It was up the hill as we were in search for pineapple and passion-fruit. Elephant man was in a hut and his eyes were at a place I’d never seen. Tanner could speak some French. They talked and he found some poison in the wild. Mixed it and threw him some comradeship before we toasted and he took off for another ride.

Anyway. I’m back and it’ll be two months before I’ll go again. The point is, I’m off. Looking for some semblance of understanding. It’s no big deal, I was just wondering if you were out there.