Winter Warmer: Madagascar

Photo: Michael Kew

Surfing there was worrisome for me. The trades blew sideshore/offshore at the Velzylandish right, and usually it was the only spot to ride. It was also the most consistent, taking any southern swell—windswell or ground—and warping it into a clean barrel within spitting distance of black urchins and bare pink coral. The waves were uncatchable anywhere but on the initial bowl—shoulder-hopping was impossible—and if you fell, you hit reef. The nearest hospital was two hours away via rough dirt roads, and the wave broke a kilometer from shore, requiring a sketchy paddle over deep, murky water alongside a reef where fishermen set traps and nets. Once in the lineup sitting on my board, I couldn’t see my feet and felt like bait—out of all my time surfing alone at sharky surf spots worldwide, nothing rivaled the spookiness of Madagascar.

– Michael Kew