We awake at 7am to a cacophony of crickets chirping and roosters croaking. We load the van with surfboards and wetsuits and grab a few buns and some soya milk near Hengchun bus station (恆春轉運站) before driving south for 15 minutes to Jialeshui (佳樂水) in Kenting National Park.
The road to this popular surf spot near the southernmost tip of Taiwan is surrounded by rice fields and a mountain range that seems to stretch into infinity. The sun creeps into the untouched terrain. The air is crisp. The sound of crashing waves beckons.
But my driver from the previous night has a different impression of his native Kenting. He looks at me, a solo female traveler, as if I’m absolutely nuts when I mention that I’m planning to not only swim in the ocean during winter but — God forbid — do water sports instead of simply taking pretty selfies.
Photo Courtesy of Island Rhythm Tours
I contemplate his bewilderment as my two surf companions and I drive pass sleepy-looking surf rental shops into Jialeshui. We pull into a parking lot to discover that although it’s a chilly 18 degrees Celsius, we aren’t alone. The half-dozen other surfers are mostly young, male and local.
‘NASCENT WATER CULTURE’
Asif Hirji has tanned skin and short black hair and Terry Meysen is a sandy blond. Both men are from Canada. Together, the three of us really stand out. Hirji and Meysen tell me that the sight of young, tanned Taiwanese men surfing would have been impossible 10 or 15 years ago. Back then, it was mostly foreigners that surfed — a phenomenon that Hirji attributes to “a nascent water culture developing here.”
Photo: Dana Ter, Taipei Times
Meysen has been living in Kenting for 15 years and Hirji for 6 years, after having spent 9 years in Greater Tainan. The duo run Surf Shack Surf Tours & Lessons (soon to be renamed Island Rhythm Tours), which offers surf tours for travelers hailing from as near as Taipei, and as far away as New Jersey and Australia. They are currently branching out to include surf-yoga retreats, food tours and motorcycle tours, amongst others.
Surf tours would have been unthinkable not long ago. Despite being an island with natural beauty comparable to Hawaii, Taiwanese were forbidden to wander the beaches during Martial Law, which began in 1949 and ended in 1987. As a result, the ocean was associated with danger, barbed wire and military drills rather than a fun place to bring children for a weekend outing. Many Taiwanese who are now in their 20s and 30s did not grow up learning basic water safety.
Hirji has even met tourists who surf despite not knowing how to swim. “They know enough to tread water and get back on to their boards,” Hirji says, “but it’s dangerous if your leash gets cut off or when you’re trapped under your board.”
Photo: Dana Ter, Taipei Times
CHANGING LIFESTYLE CHOICES
However, Meysen adds that this is slowly changing, especially amongst young people living on their own.
“Surfing is part of the larger youth culture and an expression of freedom — something which Taiwan never had before. It’s healthy and you get to connect with the oceans,” he says.
Photo: Dana Ter, Taipei Times
Another surfer Chris Hsia (夏祖禹), who runs a bed & breakfast in Jialeshui called Summer Point, agrees. Hsia recalls how he and his family were chased by soldiers with M-16s for camping in Kenting National Park when he was 7 years old.
When the Greater Kaohsiung native started surfing in Kenting 14 years ago, there weren’t many surf shops around so he had to trek all the way up north to Yilan to buy his first surfboard.
“It took us a long time to receive surf culture from outside of Taiwan,” Hsia says, referring to surf movies and magazines, in addition to knowledge about water safety.
Hsia says that it’s all about getting educated and having some common sense.
“I always tell people that it’s much more dangerous to ride a scooter on the roads of Taiwan than it is to surf,” he adds.
Years ago, there was limited information being published about wind direction or wave swells, so surfers relied primarily on Japanese Web sites or the US Navy satellite for up-to-date information about surf conditions on Taiwan’s beaches. Nowadays, this information is easily accessible through Web sites like magicseaweed.com, as well as through smartphone apps.
WHEN TO SURF
There are no soldiers or barbed wires on Taiwan’s beaches today. But there are very few lifeguards, especially during the winter months. So if you want to try your hand at hang ten, it’s best to have some surfing experience (and to not just know how to swim, but how to swim well) or go with an instructor.
Surfers tell me that I’m visiting Kenting at the worst possible time — in the middle of winter when the katabatic winds created by the large mountain range are the strongest. From November to March, the winds can reach gale force levels. Certain parts of the Hengchun peninsula are better for surfing at different times of the day or week depending on wind direction, so checking the charts in the morning is a must before deciding where to bring your board.
“If the wind is too strong and you’re in the water, your head will be ringing,” Hirji says.
Luckily, on the morning we are at Jialeshui, there is an offshore wind. This wind slows up the wave breaks, making it suitable for surfing.
JUMPING IN
We zip up our wetsuits, grab our equipment and head toward the shore.
Like most other beaches in Taiwan, although it was chilly outside, the water in Jialeshui is relatively warm, especially if you keep on paddling.
We navigate around breaking waves, paddling straight to reach deeper waters, making a left turn to where the waves are.
Surfing is as much about shooting the breeze with other surfers while waiting for waves to form as it is riding them. As the waves approach, conversations stop, people position themselves on their boards and it’s each surfer on her own. When the waves arrive, silence befalls the surfers and the sound of gushing waves takes over. Everyone is doing their own thing but there’s a shared feeling of reverence for Mother Nature.
After surfing, we rinse our boards and wetsuits in the public bath, drawing some quizzical stares from onlookers. That the baths exist is further evidence that its become more acceptable to play in the sand and get dirty.
I’m convinced that the best views of Jialeshui’s endless acres of black sand coastline and majestic mountain range are seen from atop a moving surfboard zipping across the Pacific coastline — it’s certainly an experience you won’t get from being inside a cramped tour bus filled with selfie-stick wielding strangers.
The surf scene in Kenting perfectly captures how this once-sleepy beach town is trapped between old fears and new thrills. People may still stare at you inquisitively as you drag your 335cm surfboard across the sand, but more and more are realizing that being out in the waves in Jialeshui brings you closer to nature.
It’s as if you’ve conquered the lurking dangers of the ocean.
Getting there:
■ Take the south-bound high speed rail (HSR) from Taipei Main Station to the last stop, Zuoying (左營) HSR. The ride takes approximately two hours. Another two hours on the Kenting express (bus no. 9189) from Zuoying HSR will get you to Hengchun (恆春) station
■ The best way to reach Jialeshui (佳樂水) from Hengchun station is by car or motorcycle. You can easily rent a motorcycle. Taxis cost around NT$750
English-language Web sites:
■ Surf Shack Surf Tours & Lessons: taiwansurfshack.com (soon to be renamed Island Rhythm Tours: www.islandrhythmtourstaiwan.com)
■ Summer Point bed & breakfast: www.summerpoint.idv.tw
What to bring:
■ Bathing suit, warm clothes (during winter), flip-flops to change into, towel, sunscreen
■ Surf shops along Jialeshui offer surfboards and wetsuits for rent
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