Remember Mel Gibson’s road warrior? The leather-bound Mad Max scoured the apocalyptic wastelands of Australia terrorising road-punks with his trusty mutt and shotgun. The scenario might not seem so unfamiliar to anyone who has braved the barren frontiers of Khalifa City ‘B’ or Mohammad Bin Zayed City lately. But, if Mel Gibson is the road warrior, what pray tell is an Ocean Warrior? The answer arrives in the shape of Damien Pennefather.
Eschewing leathers and shotgun for a baseball cap and lifejacket (although he does have a small terrier), the garrulous South African is the man responsible for the Ocean Warriors Surf Ski Club. He started it just three years ago, not long after his own interest in the sport began, but, since then, membership has swollen to around 40 members.
Surf ski is essentially a form of kayaking, but as far removed from its primitive cousin as you can get. The difference is pretty much that between a 4×4 and a sports car. The sleek surf skis are longer, narrower and infinitely more finicky than the average kayak. The paddler (when not falling out) sits atop an exposed cockpit, steering the boat with a foot-operated rudder. They are thin, fast and lend themselves well to endurance racing, which is where the Ocean Warriors come in.
When I meet Damien, the Warriors are in training for the Shamaal, the world’s richest international surf-ski competition that takes place on National Day in Dubai. The standard is high and the 30km paddle that stretches ahead is not for beginners. Needless to say, my introduction is a lot gentler.
Having arrived at the Marine Sports Club opposite Marina Mall, I soon meet the waving Damien. His giant two-seater surf ski comes decorated with little but a sticker reading, ‘I love South Africa’ – he really does. Every few months, he and his wife escape to Durban where Damien keeps his ‘toys’: a four-seater plane and a motorbike. Recently, the couple spent three weeks riding dirt tracks across South Africa, travelling around 300 miles a day. Maybe the Mad Max parallels weren’t so far removed after all.
Having lugged the kayak down to the water’s edge, I get to grips with the basics. The double-bladed paddles are highly contoured and you have to twist them when digging into the water as you would a throttle. ‘You should paddle with your body, not your arms,’ advises Damien, ‘although I know you won’t.’ The man clearly knows me well. He also talks of ‘falling in’ in the future tense. ‘When you fall out you have to get your bottom in first,’ he advises, ‘twisting as you lift yourself in’. It’s not as easy as it sounds (and it doesn’t even sound that easy).
Despite its seeming instability, surf skis were originally designed for rescue so they are not too difficult to handle. As I attempt to paddle in time with Damien, we cut through the gentle bob of the water with ease. The kayaks are designed to ride with the ocean’s swell, says Damien. ‘Experienced paddlers can clock up to 30kph; I’ve only ever done 22kph in Abu Dhabi.’ The vast breakwaters mean that there is little swell in this part of the Gulf, just an impotent, static bob caused by the wind. Nevertheless, Damien finds a bit of a lift and advises me to dig in. After 20 minutes, we’ve sped through the two kilometres to Lulu Island.
‘Right, in you go,’ says Damien. ‘Eh?’ comes my response. Having been praised for my balance, it seems I’m doomed to experience a dip in the drink after all. But, as is always the case with these things: falling out is easy, getting back in again is a nightmare. My first attempt even dethrones a grinning Damien from his perch. Ha! Revenge. I bellyflop onto the boat like a clumsy hammour a few times before the butt-twist finally comes. Bottom scraping over the edge, I slide into my seat with all the grace of a fat man mounting a hammock. ‘Splay your feet either side,’ yells a sodden Damien, ‘It helps you steady.’
Dripping wet, with a grin spread across my face and the sun beating down on my drenched hat, it dawns on me that there are few places I would rather be. Surf ski is undoubtedly a sport for the dedicated. A beginners kayak will set you back about Dhs5,000; a professional one costs up to Dhs16,000. Of course, then there are storage costs to consider and you will need to set aside the best part of dawn to join the group on its daily paddles. Nevertheless, there are few better ways to explore the waters surrounding Abu Dhabi. And, while the noisy jet skiers are enough to make you contemplate Mad Max-style vigilante justice, after 20 minutes, all you’ll hear is the splash of paddle on water. We’d say that’s worth it.
Surf ski lessons take place at ADIMCS, opposite Marina Mall and cost Dhs350 for three lessons if you have your own equipment; Dhs450, if not. Contact Damien on info@adow.ae or head over to www.adow.ae for further information
