When Anna Kalabukhova got the call for Armstrong’s Women’s Athlete Summit in Fiji, she knew it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. From charging epic waves to pushing limits alongside legends, this trip was all about progression, connection, and pure stoke. Here’s what went down!

I first heard about the trip in late spring—the timing of the phone call from the team manager was surreal because I was on my way to the airport for a sailing event in Boston, so I felt like a bit of a jetsetter being whisked away to all of these phenomenal places. The phrase “Fiji” being said over the phone sent me an excited shiver. I was already trying to negotiate time off with my work and school going to AWSI that same September that the Fiji trip was scheduled for, but the team manager had opened the phone call with, “You’re not going to want to miss this”, and quite frankly at that point I already knew I would be going to Fiji no matter what, because who in their right mind would pass up an opportunity like that?

This was not just any trip to Fiji but to Fiji for a Women’s Athlete Summit hosted by Armstrong for their female team riders. Hearing the purpose of the trip was perhaps even more so exciting than the actual location because anyone involved in the foiling—or even more broadly, the water and wind sports world—is no stranger to the fact that we females are few and far between (but luckily our ranks have been growing over the past few years!). So to be able to come together at this world-renown location to celebrate the women in our sport was indeed one of the most exciting and amazing things I have ever had the fortune to be a part of, and I already knew it was going to be this way before I even made it to Fiji. It was also thrilling and surreal to be invited on this trip with some of the women in foiling that I have looked up to for years and have watched through the screen of my phone on Instagram—seeing them in the flesh and having the opportunity to share waves with them was trippy. Our crew consisted of myself, Tatiana Grant, Naumi Eychenne, Bowien (Bo) van der Linden, Sierra Stack, Zara Maillard, and Julia Mancuso. We had Slater Neborsky and Chris Dunn with us as our fantastic videography and photography duo. It was the perfect set of people to have a great time with, ripping around in Fiji’s absurdly clear blue waters.  

If someone had told me that one day I would be getting towed into a twenty-foot wave on foil in Fiji with none other than Julia Mancuso, the famed alpine ski racer and multiple Olympic medal winner, manning the jetski, I would have asked them to reflect on their mental sanity.

Our whole crew rallied in Fiji, but I flew from Hawai‘i with Tati and Slater, which was sweet because we already knew each other pretty well. My favourite part about being based in Hawai‘i is the international and out-of-state riders we have come through, especially during our channel race season in the summer, since everyone has unique foiling backgrounds based on where they are from. So, I was excited to meet the other girls from various places—California, Tahiti, Switzerland, and the Netherlands—and learn their stories and the kind of foiling disciplines they all favoured.

A few of us, such as myself, were fresh off the plane when we were all shuttled and then boated over to Tavarua shortly after touching down in Fiji. Still, the jet lag and travel exhaustion did not stop us from going out that same afternoon for a surf foil session at Swimming Pools. Within the first few moments of arriving at the dreamy Tavarua island, Bo was already sprinting towards the water, all suited up with her surf foil set up to break the ice with a quick session at Kiddieland, the break right off the main landing beach. Her excitement and stoke to get out there and after it emboldened me to come along for the session at Swimming Pools even though I was seriously contemplating a much-needed nap in its stead. We all put our exhaustion aside, knowing that most of us were on a once-in-a-lifetime trip to Fiji so we could make use of every day, including the first.

For our first session at Swimming Pools, we mostly towed into the knee-high waves since no surfers were out, and we were all excited to get a feel for the new Armstrong surf foil boards we had the privilege of testing during the trip. I was, quite frankly, stoked for the mellow waves—I’ve never towed behind a ski before (despite being from Hawai‘i, which is a shocker), and I wanted to get my bearings on a new board and at a new location. I was also not mentally ready to shake my plane jelly legs and tiredness off on massive waves, so I was grateful for the fun-sized surf. Everyone, including myself, seemed to have a great time that first session despite the conditions being a bit small and crossed up—I think we were all just so jazzed from how beautiful the water and reef looked as it was that we would have been happy no matter what. Everyone was quick to start ripping turns and pumping out and connecting—even the girls for whom surf foiling was not their primary discipline—and in no time, I found myself watching the others, cheering them on, and already learning from them and their unique riding styles. I enjoyed even the smaller-wave sessions such as this one since everyone felt comfortable out on the water, and we could get more playful and loose in our manoeuvres compared to the more sizable days. I even learned the sit-down surf foil move from watching Naumi and consulting her on its mechanics since watching her repeatedly do it on Instagram did not translate the same way as seeing her do it in real-time. I think these opportunities to learn from each other brought this trip together.

“I think towing into big waves worked for me because it’s a lot like downhill skiing,” I recalled Julia saying during one of our team dinners in Tavarua. These words kept me from panicking as I got towed on foil into the biggest waves of my life at Ro Ro’s, the majestic rolling sandbar break that is straight out of a dream.

Truth be told, I felt nervous when there was talk of towing us into some bombs that the massive swell coming in at the tail-end of our trip would bring. I had no experience foiling into waves before this trip, much less double overhead waves, so I had no idea how I would react to such a daunting experience in terms of physical and mental skills. I was entirely comfortable and capable of winging in large swell, though—we had a couple of sick sessions out at Namotu Lefts in some overhead waves on the trip—however, what I had with winging that I did not with towing was that personal control over the situation. I knew with winging; I could bail from waves and also perfectly position myself on their faces where I had the best chance of not being pitched off by the wave; however, with towing, there was that element of not only fully trusting your partner on the ski but also knowing you are fully committed to the wave the second you let go of the towline, and that if you are in an undesirable situation, the only way out is through it.

We watched the swell steadily grow—first seeing Restaurants, the spot in front of Tavarua, begin to bare its fangs with the fast left-hander barrels that suddenly appeared, which made any sort of foiling there nonnegotiable, and then especially on a mission out to Cloudbreak the day before we went to tow at Ro Ro’s to see what the swell was doing there. Bo and I hoped to wing it—for me, it was mainly a personal bucket-list item to get to charge the world-renowned Cloudbreak after years of watching the Fiji Pro surf competition on television—however, that particular day, there was a lot of wind holes in that area which could prove devastating in the case of needing the wind to be consistent for a quick bailout or avoid getting wrecked on the shallow, razor-sharp reef on the inside. So, as my parents say, you always need to leave something you want to do to make the next time you come back fun, so maybe that will be in the cards the next time I (hopefully) get to come to Fiji.

Ro Ro’s ended up being more than fair consolation for not getting to wing the legendary Cloudbreak. The boat ride over there was gorgeous—we followed the massive reef sandbar that starts at Wilkes Pass the whole way over there, watching whitewash explode in the distance over the sandbar as we cruised on the calm turquoise waters inside of it. When we pulled up, all I saw were the gorgeous crystal-clear rollers wrapping around the edge of that massive sandbar, and I knew it would likely be one of the funnest sessions of my life.

Going from never towing into waves before this trip to towing in knee to chest-high waves to sending double-overhead waves behind the ski within a week was a dizzying yet thrilling experience. The first wave at Ro Ro’s I got towed into was just overhead. Still, I quickly realised that I was in the wrong gear for it—I almost breached on my HA 680 and the entirety of the ride was spent on pushing all of my weight down on my front foot to keep the foil under so I barely even got to take in that ride. We were fortunate to have Armie Armstrong tag along with us that day. As always, he had just the perfect foil parts up his sleeve, so with his help, I could dial in a setup that was more geared towards big wave towing and made me feel a lot more comfortable and in control of these gnarly faces. However, given that all foils abide by the general laws of physics, the smaller a front and tail wing you have, the faster you go; the chilling speed this set-up produced took some getting used to. The first couple of triple-overhead waves I got towed into made me want to scream and laugh and throw up simultaneously—that rush down the face is truly one of the most exhilarating and scariest feelings I’ve experienced. I told myself it’s just like skiing—as Julia Mancuso said—but the reality is that it’s like skiing straight down an icy slope with a constantly shifting angle. Also, you might have a massive avalanche on top of your head if you end up on the wrong side, and your skis might explode if you shift your weight slightly in the wrong direction. But if you manage to survive all those factors, it is the best ride you will ever have.

The most surreal part of the Fiji trip and experience was being in the presence of Julia Mancuso. My family was big into watching alpine ski racing when I was growing up—we briefly lived in Colorado with its whole ski scene—and Julia Mancuso was up there with some other household names such as Lindsey Vonn and Bode Miller that my family religiously followed. Never would I have ever imagined that I might not only cross paths with Julia Mancuso one day but that it would happen on basically the absolute opposite of a ski slope—a small island in the middle of the South Pacific Ocean—and that we would both be brought there by this sport called foiling that I was not even aware of back then. Having her tow me into some of the biggest waves of my life on a ski while cheering me on made me appreciate the absurdity of life—we truly live in a world of infinite possibilities, possibilities that I never would think to put down on a bingo card such as getting to spend a week of shredding in the south pacific with a multiple-Olympic medal-winning alpine ski racer that I grew up watching on television. We all were fortunate to learn from not only her knowledge of the area—her husband is one of the seasonal Tavarua managers, so their family spend quite a bit of time there—but also all of her stories and wisdom coming from transitioning from being a competitive alpine ski racer to a fierce mother of three that rips on the daily some of the gnarliest waves in the world on the foil. Having her out there on the water with us was a contributing factor in inspiring me to work a little harder and revel in being in this wonderful space of incredible women just having the best time of their lives together doing what they love most.

It’s just like skiing; it’s just like skiing, it’s just like skiing—my mantra as I rushed down the face of the first bomb I was whipped into, my foil on the edge of cavitating, feeling like I might scream and laugh and throw up all at the same time. I felt suspended on the face of this dazzling cerulean mountain, going as fast as I could ever have on foil while feeling like I was not moving as the water rushed up beneath me. I wove back and forth on the face of the wave until it ultimately petered out at the edge of the sandbar after a four-minute long ride. My face hurt from how hard I was smiling, my head still feeling dizzy from that exhilarating ride down that massive moving slope, watching it stack to my right into the most beautiful wall of clear blue water.

At this point, I would like to slightly backtrack and point out that if we had gone to tow at massive Ro Ro’s at the start of the week in Fiji, I would have politely chosen to remain in the boat to watch.

I may come from Hawaiʻi but I am not known as a big-wave charger. Head-high to just slightly overhead is my jam—just big enough to get some adrenaline flowing but not actively risking my life. Our first few days in Fiji, we towed and paddled into knee-to-waist-high waves—a much-needed warm-up for what was to come. In truth, we were all just happy to get our fill of looking at the blue-green-brown watercolour of living coral and fish flashing below our foils without worrying too much about taking one on the head (at least I was). It was also nice to see all of the girls ripping in the surf regardless of their background—we had a couple who mostly foiled in lakes—and with the fun-sized waves, we had the chance to get playful and push ourselves a little harder. After seeing Naumi do the sit-down move on a wave (I had watched it many times on Instagram, trying to decipher its mechanics), I felt something click in my head after witnessing it in person. After a couple of attempts, I managed to pull it off, Naumi cheering me on, and soon enough, Zara was doing the sit-down as well—it was wild to see this ripple of learning take place amongst us, the way you could just tell everyone was absorbing everything and everyone like a sponge.

It was not until our first winging session at Namotu Lefts that I became inclined to get a little risky—to send it—because when you’re on a once-in-a-life-time trip to Fiji with a ton of girls at the forefront of the sport of foiling, why not? When we got out to Lefts, the ocean was angry, not the mesmerising image of Fiji that I’d been promised. It was soupy, grey, and chaotic—a storm had rolled through earlier that day, and coupled with the first substantial swell we would encounter on our trip beginning to build, the whole break was confused and unpredictable. About an hour into the session, Lefts began slowly cleaning up and forming solid 8’12’ foot sections. As I was winging out through the channel, I saw Bo winging into what was quickly a double overhead wave. At this moment, I was passing Tati, and we both locked eyes and shouted the same thing at each other—that’s a bomb!

Seeing Bo begin to charge made me start to catch some of the bigger waves on the shoulder, and slowly, I began to get comfortable and gravitate towards the more critical sections. Before long, I was winging into some of the gnarliest waves of my life, and I had one of the best wing surfing sessions ever. I just knew if I had not seen the other girls so fearlessly charge into these stormy monsters as Bo had, I’m not sure I would have ever worked up the courage to get after it myself.

Despite the hectic conditions and the unexpectedly cold and stormy weather, this session on our trip stayed at the forefront of my mind. The thrill of winging double overhead waves sounded in my body for many days, inspiring me to keep sending it the rest of the trip and into the new massive swell that had filled in towards the tail end of our time in Tavarua.

I think moments like these—finding motivation and comfort in seeing someone else send it—pulled the whole trip together and brought us girls closer by cheering each other on and wanting everyone to push themselves to the limits of their fears and abilities. Given how few women there are in the sport of foiling, I feel like there is always naturally an intensified competitive air in the races and events I have done. There is this expectation to perform and prove our place within the sport, and since the women’s division is usually small, there is this need to want to come out on top because there are not so many competitors to go against.

Experiences such as getting all the girls together in a world-class foiling location like Tavarua raise the calibre of foiling among women and do so healthily. There was not a moment I felt a competitive edge or the sense of wanting to “one up” someone, which I feared might happen going into the trip. Instead, it was a productive experience of learning from each other and becoming closer rather than being driven apart. With so few women competing in the various disciplines of foiling, I feel like there is this expectation to perform since there are so many eyes on us as it is, the pressure of which can be isolating at times as the only way through is to focus in on yourself. On this trip, I felt this focus shifted outward, put towards collaborating rather than competing with these girls, which led to astounding progress in my skills and everyone else. Watching someone shred with joy and curiosity rather than that sense of threat that can sometimes come in a competitive setting felt refreshing. As the foiling scene becomes even more competitive—especially for women—trips and opportunities such as this will remind us of the genuine stoke of foiling with other people.

There is a lot of progress to be made in better representing and supporting women in water and wind sports. Still, after being fortunate enough to partake in the women’s athlete summit hosted by Armstrong in Tavarua, I have a positive outlook on my future and the future of a strong female presence in the sport. These types of initiatives certainly foster the progression and confidence for female athletes to take on their disciplines and be able to inspire future generations of female rippers. I feel privileged and honoured to be a woman at the forefront of this sport. This feat I know would not have been possible without seeing previous women’s accomplishments in various male-dominated sports. I get a sense of responsibility for the sport’s future and past to push myself to the limits and pave my path in this rapidly progressing and exciting foiling era.

This trip certainly heightened my desire to foil worldwide to have a great time in amazing locations rather than just fixating on its competitive aspect. I grew up participating in all sorts of sports, especially tennis, which I played at a highly competitive level for a long time, so I have been finding it hard sometimes to flick off that switch of wanting to do something only for the sake of competition. Sure, it’s a fantastic driving force, especially for very goal-oriented Capricorns such as myself, and necessary for the progression of the sport; however, it is nice to be able to take a breath such as with this trip to Fiji and genuinely appreciate the beauty and stoke of the sport. Beyond competition and my accomplishments in that respect, I will always be most excited about the phenomenal places this sport has taken me thus far—Fiji, Hood River, the middle of the Ka‘iwi and the Pailolo channels—and the fantastic people I have met.

Well, all of us girls were heavily hinting that we would love for this to be an annual trip, but I can’t imagine it was all that easy to pull this together, even for just this one time. I hope to see more all-female gatherings like this in the future, even if it’s by other brands—just this one trip has proven to be so productive and essential for developing and empowering the female presence in the sport of foiling. My plans for this coming year are so far centred on the summer downwind race season here in Hawai‘i; I am incredibly excited to see how much the women’s divisions will have grown from last year, as I’ve seen an upward trend in women participating over the last couple of years I have raced.

I wish I could relive the whole trip! I think that magical day at Ro Ro’s is tied with the big stormy wing session at Lefts, even though the ocean was angry and the skies were grey. I just recall dropping in on bomb after bomb with the wing at Lefts—I was having so much fun I think I was the last person to go in—and towards the end of the session, the sun had made a dazzling appearance for sunset and a mystery winger on an Armstrong kit had materialised as well as if brought by the sun’s rays. I remember circling back to the outside of the break after pulling into a huge set wave and hearing the winger yell excitedly behind me, “You rip!”. Looking back, I realised it was Armie Armstrong grinning widely at me, who I did not even know was in Fiji then. Being praised by the mastermind behind the brand you ride for is undoubtedly a highlight of my trip and my foiling career.

 

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Armstrong Athlete Summit | Tavarua, Fiji
By Anna Kalabukhova

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