The Journey Begins
In early May, eight Chucktown (Charleston, South Carolina) riders took off into previously unkited territory along the pristine South Carolina coastline: Trey Sedalik, Gretta Kruesi, Dale Slear, Whittaker Warrington, Hunter Stunzi, Yani Dilling, Noah Simon and Ryan Reichlyn crossed over a dozen inlets, shipping channels, uninhabited barrier islands, a National Wildlife Refuge and the shark-infested Bulls Bay —during our downwinder from Charleston to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.
We launched from Sullivan’s Island, and the conditions couldn’t have been more perfect. We sped off to the Isle of Palms with steady 18-knot southwest winds and 4-foot swell.
Hernandez was an excellent and enthusiastic support crew. He played a key role in securing the 28-foot Zodiac RIB (rigid inflatable boat) from the South Carolina Maritime Foundation that followed us with the photographer and videographer aboard.
It was a diverse group of riders and equipment — the boards ranged from twin-tip to surfboard to stand-up paddleboard. Some rode slowly, playing in the waves, while others charged ahead. Dilling found a straight tack on his 9-foot 6-inch standup paddleboard and Stunzi plowed ahead across the uninhabited islands. The rest of the team surfed the waves and free-styled in the slicks.
Two hours into our multiday trip, thunderclouds rolled in and we lost sight of the boat. We regrouped and rested on Bulls Island while attempting to contact the RIB. Hernandez’s ambitious driving unfortunately dried up 15 miles into the course when the boat ran aground in the flats while crossing a narrow channel. Teddy Turner Jr., son of media mogul Ted Turner and a South Carolina Maritime Foundation board member, happened to be close by. He identified the RIB (probably because he helped purchase it), and with his assistance, the incoming tide and the clearing of the skies, the RIB was back on track.
There Will Be Blood
Bulls Bay, an eight-milelong bay filled with shallows and dangerous oyster flats, received its name from the aggressive bull sharks that swim and breed in its waters. The planned course was to cross outside of the shoals, but with no end point in sight, the group scattered.
Some were tempted by the inside flat water and followed the landline across the shallow oyster beds. One by one we descended along Five Fathom Creek and emerged at Raccoon Key. Dilling was the last to appear, and when he did, his legs were drenched in bright-red blood! He had hit ground in the shallows and dragged across the razor sharp oyster shells. Luckily, an environmental photographer stumbled upon us, took Dilling aboard her boat and rushed him to town for medical attention.
Like Butter!
During the final hours of day one, we raced the sun through butter-smooth slicks between the islands of Cape Romain National Wildlife Refuge, claiming secret surf spots for another day.
Just as the sun set, we landed on Murphy Island. Simon’s GPS read 64 miles. Hernandez’s boat skimmed over the sandbar at the falling tide and we set up camp. Covering a bulk of the distance on day one, it was the most challenging leg of our journey.
The steady wind we appreciated during the day whistled hard through the night. Our bonfire burned brightly, which was helpful in deterring the ubiquitous mosquitoes. The next morning we woke to a day of continuous wind, sore muscles and a hungry gator looking for an easy meal!
Going The Distance
The final stretch held the best conditions. Along the gorgeous, pristine, uninhabited white-sand beach Simon coined “Little Bali,” we kited shoulder-high, glassy waves with side-off conditions. Then the beach turned and the wind became side-on, allowing for one long tack down the waves.
Arriving exhausted but triumphant in Myrtle Beach at nearly 6:30 p.m., we completed the amazing trip in two days as planned. Our GPS read 115 miles, but as the crow flies, the distance was just shy of 100 miles.
As the sole female on this epic journey, I kept up with those boys through the wind, waves, chop and oyster flats, but it took every ounce of my focus and strength. Together we discovered new kite spots, tested our limits and had a ton of fun. Sunburned, fatigued and with the overall feeling of camaraderie and a sense of accomplishment, we all had one question: What’s next?
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