Late yesterday afternoon at Orewa was a sensational session - "my best ever!" I loudly opined to anyone who would listen. It was a combination of incredibly steady high pressure wind coming from out east, shoulder high waves and bath temperature water that stoked the after work crowd. Apparently, as soon as I hit the water, the wind increased a klick and I was perfectly powered on my 13m with the FLX 132 coming into it's own slashing smooth, soft waves. Boosting was child's play and never have I come out of so many kiteloops landing back in the wave, smelling like roses.

But it was to get much better. After a grind over the road, and a solid safety meeting, Earl, the Hippy, myself and Stu (Best) realised the solar system had actually conspired to produce a classic night kite sesh. We hastily hit the water again at 8.45pm, and found the wind was still very much on our side, plus the tide had turned, now sucking out. This cleaned up the buttery waves even more. We hooned around in the twilight, and started dropping in on the dozen or so surfers catching their last rides for the evening. They didn't seem to mind our sudden intrusion into the line-up and even managed a whoop or two when i started getting face shots from the fine top turn spray I was generating.

As darkness fell, my riding improved even more. Now I was sticking blind backrolls to blind, blind double grabbed kiteloops to blind etc. The surfers buggered off as soon as it was legally dark, they obviously aren't into surfing when you're as blind as a 13-year-old at his first school ball. I've kited at night before and know especially when under the influence, your senses come hyper-alive. I went through super aggressive phases, all ending in nose fulls of seawater, to mellow cruising around, to frantic searching of the horizons to locate the other kites. It was so dark the only thing you could actually see on the water was breaking waves, which was good as it drew you into the most critical section of each wave. They weren't exactly breaking top-to-bottom but the top half was crumbling off, giving me many secret delights.

After half an hour of trance-like behaviour, I hadn't seen the others for quite some time and assumed they were at home in bed. Then as if I wasn't experiencing enough stimulation, a perfect orange moon started rising on the eastern horizon. I realised in a flash this was my moment, my now - the past and future were illusions and I was scoring some of the most intense pleasures available on this planet. The moonbeams made the whole kiting gig a lot easier, and even more magical. Never mind winning the nationals - before you die, I urge you to rip waves while working on your moon tan.

Now the boys could see each other and full-scale boosting resumed, occasionally doubly lit up by a car's headlights from the carpark. We howled at each other like wolves, hopefully disturbing law-abiding millionaires in their beachfront palaces.

Finally exhausted we called it a night at 10.30pm, all agreeing "that session was in fact the best ever". The only dampener was the Hippy's sudden display of nudity, running around the carpark freeballing and pulling random handstands. Forgetting any remaining shreds of responsibility we carried on our binge with a late night service station re-fuel and celebratory rum at my pad.

This morning my body is not functioning correctly and I have avoided all work at the office, this diatribe my only output. But I still have a smile in my brain, and the way things are panning out - tonight could be even better!

after a less than perfect start, getting brutally bashed by my first wave, i managed another rewarding solo night-flight last night, but it wasn't as good with bigger, messier swell, and the moon still hadn't risen by 9.30pm when i finally called it a night. the main highlight was a couple of bikini-clad mermaids frolicking in the surf right up to the last minute.