I was sailing around Tonga's Vava'u island group aboard the yacht Destiny with three close friends. Our mission was to discover and surf unknown waves on the most isolated islands. On this particular morning things were looking promising. We had hauled up the anchor at dawn and sailed south, looking for reefs with surf potential. There was a solid 3-4 foot groundswell running, with light northerly winds. All eyes were searching the horizon for our watery prize.

After consulting our nautical charts we investigated a super-shallow reef about a mile off an uninhabited island. The swells would jack up viciously, suck below water level and warp around through 90 degrees before detonating upon the nearly dry reef. It was completely unrideable. But as we watched it we knew somewhere had to be going off.

My friend Martin pointed south, where a tiny speck of an island lay five miles away. "Can you guys see white water breaking off the side of that island?" he asked. We took turns on the binoculars and agreed that there appeared to be regular waves breaking in the same spot. With much whooping and cheering we raised Destiny's sails and pointed her nose towards the tiny island. As we approached our excitement increased because we could now clearly make out beautifully shaped waves peeling off one after another. The setup looked ideal.

We dropped anchor 50m from the island's edge in a frenzy of excitement. Perfect overhead waves were peeling across the reef towards us. We'd found our Tongan Heaven. The following four hours passed in a dream-like daze. It was just four good friends hooting each other into perfect waves. And it was all ours – there was not another soul in sight.

The wave broke off the southern end of a white sanded , coconut-palmed island. You had to take off very close to a razor-sharp volcanic rock outcrop and the wave continued on for 100m through three more steep sections, following the curve of the reef around the edge of the island. We named the break "Bully's" because it magnificently menaced us all day. Martin went down hard on one takeoff, snapping his surfboard like a twig as its nose dug into a crevice in the reef. Another friend, Tony, went over the falls while using our water camera and had it torn out of his hands – only to find it washed up on the island half an hour later. However, while my standup-surfing friends were getting battered and bruised, I – the only bodyboarder aboard Destiny – was blessed with highly memorable waves.

At the end of our first session, as the tide was getting dangerously low, I scored the best barrel of my whole Tongan odyssey. As soon as I took the drop on the overhead screamer and looked down the line it was clear this would be a wave to remember – if only I could hold my nerve. I stalled heavily as the lip momentarily hung suspended over my head and then pitched out wide into the flats. Moments stretched into crystal blue infinity as I was enclosed in watery perfection. For three or four seconds I was deep in the womb of the South Pacific, straining for every ounce of speed to propel mys elf out of the wormhole. I was so deep it seemed hopeless. But, just as the light at the end of the tunnel was about to disappear, I was hit from behind by a shockwave that shot me out of the tube like a bullet from a gun. I screamed with sheer exhilaration...

Bully's may have been a menacing surfing location, but it was also sensuous and stunningly beautiful. On the second day we surfed at Bully's there was not a breath of wind, causing the waves to take shape like moving glass sculptures. They were so mesmerizing as they rose out of deep water that you almost forgot to catch them. Small butterflies from the island fluttered around us in the still air as we waited for our next wave. The water was so clear that it might as well have been a pane of glass. You could see every coral head and colourful fish, as well as your own shadow, on the living reef a few feet below. It was a stunning visual symphony of fluorescent blues, greens and yellows. This kaleidoscopic movie was so distracting that it caused more than a few wipeouts. Pure tropical island magic.

The real adventure of surfing lies in discovering a perfect wave peeling endlessly off an island miles from the nearest people. In Tonga we surfed reefs that you'll never find mentioned in any guidebook or surf magazine, simply because they are in the middle of nowhere. It was possible we were the ONLY people to EVER surf these places, and that excited us. And, before you ask: I'm not going to tell you where they are! That's the point. Get out there and discover your own surfing paradise...

All words and images copyright Jorin Sievers
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