By the next morning we met for coffee and Kata Café. Trucks spewing black clouds crammed with Burmese immigrants shuttled off to surrounding construction sites, a tiny street sweeper wearing a broad rimed bamboo hat, raked her makeshift broom through a pile of plastic bags and discarded trash. Climbing into Daniels open jeep that supported two long boards strapped topside, we drove the ten minutes over the steep incline that momentarily offered up a beautiful view of the coast. A lazy offshore wind brushed out and across the top of an semi-glassy ocean while a distant cloud relinquished a downpour to the west.
Arriving beach side at Kata Noi, a head high clean west swell was bouncing off the far point boulder headland and was creating a fun two section right hander. A few locals were waiting out the sets and seemed out of sorts with the rhythm of the incoming swell. Daniel and I soon merged into the lineup and shared what was on offer. A series of five waves showed themselves every ten minutes or so with the first wave being the cleanest. Daniel offered himself the right of way and for the most part made sure he was on the best wave of every set. I didn’t mind as we all were given a chance to enjoy what was on offer. During the coarse of the next hour, we shared the paradise of the turquoise waves and bathed in the morning splendor that nature provided. Life was good.
The "down time" is that time in the lineup when the ocean goes flat and every one gathered is in the waiting. It’s a special time in nature where thoughts between the ears slow down and where moments of introspection reverberate between what was, what will be, and more importantly the grounding of what is and now. As I watched a small fish, no bigger than a match stick, swim circles around my board, the momentary solace broken by an occasional meaningless conversation eventually ended up where plans were made to head to the local marina and check on a 42 foot sloop named Way Shower.