We’re enamoured with this continent and its unending riches. While for some, that might bring Angolan Diamonds, or South African Gold to mind, we’re in awe of a far more fleeting treasure – cooking waves. Our passion for perfect sandbars and empty lineups has inspired an ever-present curiosity. We’re always on the hunt for a new, undiscovered gem. Luckily for us, we live in one of the last places on earth that they’re still in abundance. A little insider info, a large appetite for risk, and a touch of luck are all it takes to hunt down one of the many unknown waves in Africa. Over the last few years, we’ve stumbled across many an epic African setup, both known and secret. Some of these waves, and some of these sessions, remain etched in our memory – days filled with firing surf and few fellow frothers. From this list of unforgettable experiences, we’ve extracted five of our favourite waves in Africa.

1. Spot Redacted - East Africa

In the middle of summer, starved of any good surf, we set our sights north, looking past borders in search of lesser known, less consistent spots, rumoured to produce quality surf in the off-season. Luckily for us, knowledge of a fickle right-hand sand-spit, coincided with the extremely rare swell and wind combination it needs to come alive. We were informed that the swells needed to awaken this beast were a once-a-year occurrence and that the size and quality of surf expected on that particular swell was likely to eclipse anything seen there in the last 15 years. Needless to say, we packed our bags and made the long, gruelling trek.

We arrived to perfect three-foot barrels dredging along the sand bank for hundreds of meters. It was as if we’d arrived at the world famous Kirra before it’s discovery, free to bask in the glory of uncrowded perfection.

We could hardly bare to watch it – too glorious. Ten minutes later, we were out the back, waiting for our first wave at “African Kirra”. It didn’t take long to stroke into a perfect tube. Three strokes in, the bottom dropped out, and I tugged on the rail, willing it to engage. I sped down the line, cocooned by the lip as the wave propelled me forward. Section after section threw in front of me, keeping me deep in the tube. I was about to exit the barrel when my front rail caught, sending me face-first, over the front of my board. Before I knew it, the power of the wave had pressed my face onto the sand, as the rest of my body contorted, forcing me into the scorpion position. I came up shaken, thankful not to have seriously injured my spine. This set the tone for the rest of the trip – Breath-taking barrels paired with back-breaking wipeouts. Three days later, as we prepared to pack our bags, the wave was no less mesmerising – as hollow and flawless as any we’d ever seen.

2. Skeleton Bay

After hearing word that the swell of the decade was marching towards the west coast of Africa, we hopped in the car, making the 22 hours journey up from Cape Town to Skeleton Bay. Leaving at 2 am, we drove through the day, straining to keep our focus. As the sun set, the road turned to dirt, littered with bumps and potholes.

We continued on, endless barrels fuelling our fire. Eventually, after a few sketchy moments, we arrived as the clock neared 12 am. A short 6-hour sleep had to suffice – We knew the next day would pump, and we couldn’t bear the thought of missing out. After another hair-raising drive, barely avoiding defeat to the thick, waterlogged sand, we arrived to clean conditions – 6 foot barrels, and every professional surfer you could think of. Brushing aside stage-fright and apprehension at the sight of all our hero’s, we scrambled to throw on our wetsuits and jump in the water. This world-famous left-hander is a heavier, bigger version of its east African counterpart. Unlike African Kirra, where keeping up to speed with the wave is your greatest challenge, here you’ve just got to make the drop and you’re all but good to go.

As good as Skeleton Bay can get, it certainly isn’t the wave machine it’s made out to be. I learnt that during my first session out there – shifting currents and closeout sections made it difficult as I searched for a bomb. Every ten minutes or so, amidst the mediocrity, a set would hit the bank just right, giving you a glimpse into the wave’s potential.

Some two hours later, after scrounging around for a couple of average rides, I paddled into an unequivocal bomb. Eight seconds later, I pulled off of the wave of the day, and the wave of my life. I’d barely managed to paddle into it, freefalling on the drop. The late take-off threw me out into the flats, wiping off just the right amount of speed as I snuck under the lip, barely avoiding the Namibian guillotine. It was all so fast, and all so slow. Time seemed to stop as the wave folded over me – engulfed by the roomiest tube I’d ever experienced. I could do nothing but hold on – powerless amid such a powerful wave. Suddenly, a seemingly endless moment was over, and I came careening out of the tube without much memory of what had happened.

The sand bar continued to improve throughout our trip, and perfection became a more and more consistent phenomenon. We left the west African desert tube-drunk, having locked into numerous life changing rides. It’s a wave like no other, and we can’t wait to go back!

3. Ponta Do Ouro

There are few settings as picturesque as Ponta Do Ouro – blue water, lush greenery, and sunny skies. Add cooking waves to the mix and you’ve got an unparallelled surf destination. There’s been many a day when we’ve pulled up to the point with low expectations, only to be mesmerised by incredible surf. When the elements align, and Ponta decides to smile on you, there’s no place in the world we’d rather be.

We were reminded of the wave’s excellence on a recent trip up to Mozambique. We’d made the journey with a bunch of non-surfers, packing our boards ‘just-in-case’. Waking up the one morning to still conditions and clean lines, we decided to drive down to the point and give it a test. We arrived to flawless 4-footers – the waves running effortlessly along the perfectly shaped sandbars. The second point, a fickle section of the wave that doesn’t often break, was as good as we’d seen it in over three years. Hollow tubes rattled across the first section before the wave gathered itself, gearing up for another charge. Approaching the rock-shelf, waves then grew again – a kink in the sandbar creating a second, superior barrel section. Eventually, waves reached the more regularly surfed, First Point, slowing down to deliver ripable walls. With two hours till low tide, and no wind predicted, we knew we were in for an all-time session. The hollower, second point lay untapped,  and we made sure to capitalise on empty tubes. It wasn’t long before we found our rhythm, trading barrels. The tide continued to drop, and the sun continued to brighten. Two hours later the tubes resembled waves from behind the rock at Snapper. It was as though we’d teleported to the jewel of the gold coast on it’s most magnificent day, minus the crowd. We eventually grew tired of time in the tube, drifting down to the first point. There, we smacked some lips and slashed some carves before floating in, physically exhausted.

While it might not turn on everyday, you’re pretty likely to score it uncrowded when it does. For us, this is what surfing in Africa is all about – unexpected perfection, and the chance to score it all alone!

4. Spot Redacted – South Coast

Spot Redacted is one of those special waves that you can’t wait to surf again – a perfect mix of trickery and tubes on offer. Like many waves in the area, this right-hand point comes alive in the autumn, when big southerly swells drag sand into the bay, forming perfect sandbars. A long-running, barreling right, this wave is made more special by a subtle, but ever-present wedge effect. Long, corduroy lines collide with subtle side waves, creating powerful wedge that rattle down the point. The added power of the wedge works to accentuate the barrels, delivering epic tubes.

There’s one session out there we’ll never forget. “It looks like Indo, “ a fellow frother chimed, likening the bright blue water, perfect stillness, and pumping surf, to a wave-haven he remembered fondly. The sandbar was as good as we’d seen it – barrels and turns on offer with every swell-line that riffled into the bay. With an intense local crowd, we opted for the inside, hopping onto waves that swung underneath the pack. It was incredible, and we were scoring, but we couldn’t help wishing we had the pick of the bunch.

Two hours, and a host of magnificent rides later, a squall arrived, violently disrupting the day’s serenity. The local boys, satisfied with their spoils, all headed in, thinking the day’s surf had come and gone. We decided to wait it out and see if things would settle.

We waited for twenty minutes, looking excitedly at the empty lineup, and praying that conditions would return to their formerly immaculate state. And just like that, they did. The wind tapered off, and the wave-faces returned to their state of perfection. We made sure to capitalise, waiting for the thickest, throatiest waves and pulling into tube after tube. When tubes were no longer meaningful, we floated in, completely exhausted, but utterly satisfied.

5. Bog Bay

There’s always a wave close to home that steals your heart. This punchy right is just that. One of the most consistent waves around, Bog always offers up a lip to hit. On it’s day, it does a lot more than that, producing incredibly hollow tubes.

One such day came in September last year. It was late in the season, and we weren’t expecting much from our beloved right-hander, but with offshore winds and a bump on the charts, we decided to give it a crack. Upon arrival, our gaze was captured by a fickle right that breaks just to the left of Bog. With no one out, and a sizable crowd at Bog, we decided to give it a go. It was the kind of wave that produced just enough gems to keep you interested, but far too few to score. Eventually, after a frustrating hour, we decided to drift across to Bog, eyeing out a thinning crowd.  It didn’t take a second to realise we’d made the right call and curse the hour we’d spent overlooking perfection. Waves formed shapely peaks – perfect for back-dooring before lining up the oncoming section. Before long, we all had a tube or two under our belts, trading waves as we enjoyed the days spoils. Home is hard to beat!