



I’m a goal setter. In all aspects of my life I set goals and dedicate a lot of my time working towards achieving them. Almost everyone does, but most important is how far you’re willing to push yourself to achieve your goals. Many of the top athletes in the world agree that to make it to the top you need to set realistic goals and always have something greater than yourself that you are striving for.

At the start of 2015 I set myself the following goals:

Qualify for the world tour (top 16)

Become fluent in Spanish

Make a banging video

Paddle into a bomb at The Right

So I got started on working towards achieving my goals. Training, stretching, eating healthy, studying Spanish online, chasing waves up and down the coast with filmers, travelling to all of the world tour competitions and heading to The Right every time there was a chance of scoring. This is a journey through the ups and downs of working towards my goal of paddling into a bomb at The Right.

© 2020 - Chris Gurney

My interest in paddling The Right began when I saw footage of Ryan Hardy scooping into bombs out there about four years ago, with no jet-ski assistance. It was so far beyond me at the time to think to try and do that myself but I was in complete awe of seeing the footage of it happening. It was the craziest thing I’d ever seen.

It’s like practising your guitar skills by playing Guitar Hero on Xbox. It’s not the same thing.

Since then and after surfing The Right a couple of times, getting a handful of decent tow bombs thoughts started entering my mind about paddling a wave at The Right.

I should try to paddle into one today, I thought to myself on the famous Good Friday swell that slammed WA last year. But as soon as the thought came to my mind I watched a 20 footer explode into a ball of whitewash the size of a football stadium, instantly crawling back into my shell on the jet-ski, rattled and embarrassed that I even thought to attempt paddling into the lineup. After getting home from that trip I felt like a bitch. As if I let a life-changing opportunity slip from my hands, and right there I said to myself, I’m going to paddle into a bomb at The Right one day. Partly because of how good it would feel to scoop into a barrel that big, partly because of the mad props I would get from my friends, and mainly because I knew it would haunt me forever if I never achieved it.

Thinking about it became an addiction. It was always on my mind and I'd play through every different scenario that could possibly happen if I tried. Like an insect lured into the sweet scent of a venus fly-trap. I knew it would be insanely scary and dangerous, but I couldn’t resist the urge to head towards what would surely be my eventual undoing.

Rotto Box training. © 2020 - Chris Gurney

But it was proving to be the most difficult out of all the goals I set this year for one obvious reason: I can’t practice. I wanted to speak fluent Spanish so I joined an online course, I wanted to qualify for the world tour in 2016 so I surfed pretend heats every day at my local beachbreak. What could I do to work towards paddling into a bomb at The Right that didn’t instantly involve jumping off the ski the next time I was at The Right and actually doing it?

My mind had entered a battle between my survival instincts telling me to stay the hell away and the little devil on my shoulder telling me not to be a bitch.

For the next couple of months I waited for a huge swell to hit WA, in the meantime paddling waves like Rotto Box and Ron-Dog's trying to get a feel for paddling around in the lineup at The Right. It was definitely helping my bodyboarding, but it wasn’t helping me very much in terms of achieving my goal, simply because these waves weren’t anywhere near the same size and power of the waves at The Right. It’s like practising your guitar skills by playing Guitar Hero on Xbox. It’s not the same thing. But I was having a really good time with my friends surfing these slabs and I was getting a heap of footage for my online video. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t getting closer to my goal, because I was achieving some of my other goals in the meantime.

Finally, a swell hit WA and I was at The Right with all of my mates. It was an afternoon and the vibe within the crowded lineup was a pleasant surprise. Everyone was being friendly, taking turns to scream each other into bombs and generally just having a really good time.

I was hearing the same voice in my head over and over: Don’t be a bitch. I knew this was the session that I had to man up. I couldn’t pass on another opportunity to try and paddle into a bomb even though I was sitting comfortably on the ski, watching the water in the take-off zone swirl around between bombs detonating on the reef. It looked really fucking scary and I was way out of my comfort zone just thinking about sitting there. The water was black and bottomless so obviously the thought of sharks began to creep in as I was prepping myself to jump off the ski. My mind had entered a battle between my survival instincts telling me to stay the hell away and the little devil on my shoulder telling me not to be a bitch. I forced myself to jump off the ski and paddle towards the wave. Instantly I started hearing cheers from the channel: “Fuck yeah Lewy!” “yeh bra, get a bomb!” As soon as that happened it was on. I’m getting a bomb today, I’m doing it.

Lewy having second thoughts. © 2020 - Chris Gurney

I sat out there for about an hour and pussied out on two bombs that came through without anyone getting towed in on and I was absolutely furious at myself. WHY AM I SUCH A BITCH? The sun was setting, all the ski-crews had packed up their ropes and everyone was waiting for me in the channel to call it quits, but I just knew that there was one more chance, and sure enough, in came a glassy bomb lined up perfectly. This was it, now or never, so I paddled out to where I thought the edge of the reef was, turned around and started paddling as hard as I could until I felt myself getting lifted higher and higher by this magnificently large mountain of water. There was no way I was pulling back on another bomb. I’m going. No matter what.

As soon as I gained momentum I saw a massive ledge at the bottom of the wave working its way to the top. I thought for a moment I was going to be able to get over the ledge, but the speed at which the wave was moving was like nothing I ever encountered, and before I knew it I was free-falling into oblivion. I fell for so long that I heard people in the channel yell Holy Shiiiiiiiit while I was mid-air. It seemed to take forever to hit the water, but as Isaac Newton once put it: ‘What goes up must come down’.

I landed in the bottom of the barrel like a pin managing to penetrate pretty deep into the ocean. Full of fear, excitement, euphoria and pride. I thought I might be able to just swim up and not get sucked over but I instantly was only to be ripped apart and spat back out when it was done throwing me around like a dog with a chew-toy. Oh how wrong I was thinking I wouldn’t get pumped.

It would be an understatement to say I was happy with my effort. I was over the moon. I'd finally attempted my goal which was so far outside my comfort zone, and I made it unscathed. A huge weight was lifted off my shoulders and I knew this goal of mine was achievable, but I'd have to wait for another day, because the sun had set and it was almost pitch black.

Before I knew it, in came the little dark blob on the swell charts along with my second opportunity to achieve my goal.

For the whole time between my first attempt of paddling The Right and the next time The Right broke it was all that was on my mind. I couldn’t stop watching the footage of my first attempt and studying where I should have been on the wave, playing out what would of happened if I was here instead of there. It was driving me up the wall having to wait for another swell but I knew it was going to come soon. We were now in the winter months, renowned for consistent, massive swells hitting the South Coast.

While I waited for another swell, I was busy training and keeping fit, bodyboarding as much as I could wherever good waves were, as well as travelling overseas for competitions. Then, before I knew it, in came the little dark blob on the swell charts along with my second opportunity to achieve my goal.

I headed down with my good friend, Brad Norris, in the hope of getting ourselves into some big barrels. It was a calm, sunny day with the very occasional 10 footer exploding on the reef. The crowd was minimal but so were the waves. I was full of confidence because I had already broken down the wall of fear that was standing between me and my goal, so after towing with Brad for a bit I jumped off the ski and headed back into the line-up for round two with the beast.

Lewy paddles The Right at a more concievabe size © 2020 - Chris Gurney

This time I built my way up, catching anything that came through unridden and not being picky. I caught quite a few. It felt incredible, scooping in so vertically and fast, but not one of them came close to being crazy enough to feel like I had achieved my goal. I then decided to wait for a bomb. I waited and waited and waited. As if it was written in the stars, as soon as I arrived back to cold and rainy Perth, a swell popped up on the charts. This time it was big. The swell was obviously dropping and the tow-teams were getting hungrier to get into the last bombs of the swell. My chances of a set wave coming through without being noticed by one of the skis was looking pretty minimal. I paddled over a handful of set waves that were all occupied by surfers towing until finally a wave came through unnoticed. It all seemed to happen so suddenly. Before I knew it I was paddling to get myself into position but I was too far on the inside to have enough time to turn around and go. I let my one and only chance slip away and I was kicking myself for it. I felt like a loser. All the confidence I had from my first attempt was gushing away after I pulled back on my second attempt.

I sat at home after that trip feeling a bit defeated. Looking back on it now I was definitely way too hard on myself. I couldn’t have caught the wave from where I was, but at the time I thought that I could have but chose not to. Time went by and my feeling of defeat started to mutate into my hunger for redemption. For the next few months I was really busy with travelling around the world for competition, but I couldn’t stop thinking about The Right. I was checking the forecast every day that I was gone, praying that I wouldn’t miss a swell and luckily, for me, nothing came while I was gone. But as if it was written in the stars, as soon as I arrived back to cold and rainy Perth, a swell popped up on the charts. This time it was big.

Lewy's Bomb #1 © 2020 - Chris Gurney

When we got down to The Right we decided to check it from the land as we knew the wind was pretty onshore. The second we saw the ocean we realised there was no way we could surf in such gale force winds. We watched it for an hour or two and saw some massive below-sea-level explosions. The swell was massive but the wind was heinous so we waited, hoping the wind would drop in the afternoon, and it did.

Whenever a set rolled in it was like Niagara Falls rushing out into Everest, with me caught in the middle like a helpless little crumb.

As soon as I got out there I caught one tow wave before I thought fuck it and paddled into the take-off zone. It was easily the biggest day out there that I’ve sat in the take-off zone. Whenever a set rolled in it was like Niagara Falls rushing out into Everest, with me caught in the middle like a helpless little crumb in the monster's path. Waves were in sets of three, so I was really scared to catch one because I couldn’t afford to paddle and pull back and end up wearing the next couple on the head. I was really torn between wanting to catch one and wanting to get back on the ski and just try to tow some bombs with everyone else. All it took was seeing my friend towed into a bomb and my fire was relit. The whole year of anticipation of this moment came to my realisation and I was ready to commit.

Lewy's Bomb #2 © 2020 - Chris Gurney

I dug my legs in at the bottom, sat up on my board, and rode the best wave I’ve ever paddled into, all the way to the channel.

Within a few minutes a set rolled in which I paddled over to watch my friend scoop down into a huge pit. Then I saw that the next wave – my ticket for success. It was big but instead of a long wall stretched across the whole bay like most of them that day it was a peak and heading straight for me. I didn’t hesitate, turned around and start paddling. As soon as I felt the wave pick me up, I felt like I was going fall top to bottom again. I was getting lifted higher and higher but the top of the wave had a little lip which gave me just enough extra push to get over the ledge. My legs felt like they were over my head as I scooped down the wave. I dug my legs in at the bottom, sat up on my board, and rode the best wave I’ve ever paddled into, all the way to the channel.

Everyone in the channel was going crazy, me included. I’ve done it! Fuck YES! I was so stoked. I finally paddled into one that I didn’t have to question whether or not it was a bomb, it felt amazing.

Before I could even jump on a ski one of my friends yelled to me with excitement, “Let’s get back out there! Me and You”. How could I say no? I was too happy to say no to anything, so we paddled back into the lineup, this time entering into what I feared most – getting too cocky and something bad happening.

Lewy's Bomb #3 © 2020 - Chris Gurney

I was so confident now that I felt like we were having a playful session at a wave with no consequence but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Within five minutes my friend and I found ourselves scrambling to get under one of the biggest bombs of the day and thankfully we did, but there were about five waves in line, each and every one eagerly waiting to have their turn at trying to kill us. I was so confident now that I felt like we were having a playful session at a wave with no consequence but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Every wave was pushing us further back towards the reef so we started paddling for the channel on the other side of the reef. By the third wave we were literally diving under the waves, swimming with all our power to not be swallowed up by mother nature in all of her dominance. By the fifth wave we were almost in the channel on the other side and I remember taking off my leash just before diving under the wave.

I looked to my left to see one of the most unbelievable experiences of my life. I was about 10 meters behind the peak, looking straight through one of the biggest barrels ever, at all of the jet-skis on the other side. It was just one of those moments in my life where no matter how detailed I try to explain it, I will never come close to doing any justice to the beauty of looking through that barrel from such a close and involved perspective. But don’t forget, my friend and I are shitting our pants, thinking we’re gonna die while this is happening. Thankfully we made it to the channel safely and were rescued by a ski.

Lewy's Bomb #4 © 2020 - Chris Gurney

Now I’m scared to paddle out there from what happened last time, having five bombs almost land on my head, thinking I was going to die.

I sped home the next day with my tail between my legs, frightened at the thought of attempting to paddle The Right ever again because of the way the paddle session ended the day before. I was trying to remind myself how I achieved my goal by paddling into a bomb, but the feeling of fear I had for The Right was stronger than any feeling of content.

To this day I haven’t been back, mainly because it hasn’t broken since the last time I surfed it. For the first few weeks after that session I was content sticking with towing out there from now on. I guess I did accomplish my goal, I paddled a bomb at The Right. So why do I feel like a bitch again? Because now I’m scared to paddle out there from what happened last time, having five bombs almost land on my head, thinking I was going to die.

This roller-coaster ride is far from over and even though I’m down in the gutter again, full of fear, I know that I have the ability to get myself back up to the top and feel confident with paddling The Right like I've done before.

Lewy's Bomb #5 © 2020 - Chris Gurney

I now realise that this goal can’t be accomplished, because there is no finish line. I will never get to a point where I can tick it off the box and say okay, finished! I need to keep pushing myself, bit by bit, in bigger and bigger waves for as long as I can and see how far I can go. That’s what my goal has morphed in to now and that’s what I’m now striving for.

I look forward to round four with The Right, to catch an even bigger one. I know that when the swell comes and I’m sitting out there all I have to do is be calm and confident with my abilities. I have a note to myself taped on my bedroom mirror to remind me of my goals in life and what I need to do to achieve them all. It reads, “Don’t Be a Bitch!”