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Charleston, By Night and Day
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"This is it," Yani yelled.
I waded into the water. I floundered with the board. When I'd finally collected myself, I again nose-dived the kite through the downwind slice of sky where the wind is strongest.
Suddenly I was on my feet. I was flying! I skimmed across the water, propelled by the wind, trying desperately to steer the kite in a way that provided power without yanking me in the wrong direction.
This effort eventually failed. I made a wrong move, caught the edge of my board and submarined for a couple of disorienting seconds. I then lost control of the kite, which whipsawed across the sky and sent me zigzagging through the ocean behind it. Exhausted, I let go of the bar and allowed the kite to collapse.
Then I saw Yani.
He was kiteboarding upwind from me, a rooster tail arcing through the air behind him, back nearly on the water, blond hair gleaming in the sun. When he reversed directions, he slingshot 15 or 20 feet in the air, twisting, turning and -- one time -- kicking off the board and hanging upside down. I made whimpering noises of awe.
After Yani landed a final jump on the beach -- as if this sort of thing were easy and natural -- I offered to buy him a beer. But he had other priorities. As soon as the gear was stowed, he began running back toward the water. He had maybe an hour of daylight left, and he was going to kiteboard home.
Ben Brazil last wrote for Travel about Peru.
Details: Charleston, S.C.
Just off Marion Square, the 12-story




