Forty Metres of Air: The Morning Kiteboarding Rewrote Physics

Hugo Wigglesworth, a young kiteboarder, defied gravity and rewrote the record books by soaring an incredible 40 meters into the air. He used powerful winds, a perfectly timed jump off a wave, and special gear to achieve this amazing feat. His careful planning and hundreds of practice runs made him fly higher than anyone before, showing the world what’s possible in kiteboarding.

How did Hugo Wigglesworth achieve a 40-meter kiteboarding jump?

Hugo Wigglesworth achieved a 40-meter kiteboarding jump by utilizing optimal weather conditions (42-46 knot winds), precisely timing his launch off a standing wave, and employing specialized gear including an over-pumped 9-meter kite and shorter lines to maximize lift and speed. He meticulously planned his technique, honed through hundreds of rehearsals, to rewrite kiteboarding’s physics.

The Forecast, the Beach, the Rider

A razor-thin corridor of post-frontal pressure had been tightening for seventy-two hours. By mid-morning on 6 December the south-easter funnelled between Table Mountain and the Atlantic, clocking 42 knots steady and snapping 46 in the teeth of each gust. The ocean skin had been shaved glassy by the wind itself; the mercury hovered at fourteen, cold enough to keep the air heavy, mild enough to keep frost from crystallising on 17-metre lines.

Hugo Wigglesworth, nineteen, barefoot 1.85 m and 74 kg, had been pacing the tideline since dawn. Add the carbon harness, 4/3 wetsuit, impact vest and 138 cm twin-tip and the kite would have to hoist 82 kg of live payload. He studied ripple patterns the way a mariner studies cumulus, counting the 90-to-110-second pulses that arrived when the gradient wind collided with the thermal off the dune face.

At 10:19 his phone chirped: a 38.2 m leap by Frenchman Charles Brodel, logged forty minutes earlier two hundred metres south. The ghost scoreboard in Wigglesworth’s head nudged higher; he had been hunting 39 m since September and knew the 40-metre “sound barrier” now sat barely a hand-span away. Instead of grabbing a smaller kite he stayed on the nine-metre FLYSURFER SONIC5, over-pumped to nine kilopascals – two above factory spec – pinching the canopy flat to bleed drag and sharpen lift. Seventeen-metre lines, three metres shorter than his contest rig, shoved the flight window 1.5 m forward and added 270 newtons of tension the instant he yanked the bar.

The Ramp, the Clock, the Launch

In kite vernacular a “ramp” is nothing more elegant than wind colliding with contrary current, stacking a standing wave you can carve like a half-pipe. Cape Town’s channel effect doubles the apparent breeze at take-off, so the rider feels an invisible hill rising beneath the board.

10:23. Wigglesworth sheeted out, parked the kite at eleven o’clock and bore away on a broad reach. GPS on his wrist ticked past 34 knots; the roar of apparent wind became a continuous thunderclap. Forty metres from the chosen ramp he carved a gentle S to preload the lines without collapsing the canopy, then sprinted the final eighty. Too early and the kite would overshoot and stall; too late and the gust would exhale before he hit the bump. He had rehearsed the sequence three hundred times since March, the timing encoded in the fascia of his obliques.

10:24:17. A 1.3 m wind-swell stacked into a 1.7 m peak under the latest pulse. He saw the shadow, fed the bar four centimetres and felt the canopy bite. Driving his back heel through the carbon lay-up he flattened the rocker three millimetres, releasing an extra 0.4 knots of speed. The board snapped free at 10:24:21.83; the WOO accelerometer spiked at 4.7 g for 0.28 s. Kite angle at send: 10.8° above the horizon – two degrees inside the stall margin yet still inside the sweet lift pocket of the SONIC5’s cambered profile.

Three Seconds Off the Planet

Weightlessness lasted 3.02 seconds. At 40.00 m barometric altitude his vertical velocity slowed to 0.3 m/s; the kite traced a 22 m radius arc, maintaining 890 N of line tension – 160 N below the breaking strain of the Liros DC-Pro set. From the sand he looked like a charcoal crucifix pinned against pewter sky. A 200 g sachet of silica gel in his vest burst from the pressure differential, a quiet reminder that air four storeys up is four percent thinner, enough to steal three percent of lift – margin he had already banked using the hypsometric equation cribbed from his sister’s aviation texts.

Descent began with a micro-sheet-out: six centimetres of bar throw that tilted the lift vector eight degrees forward, preventing the dreaded hindenburg. Spotting a two-metre strip of flat water between swell lines, he redirected the kite to one o’clock and touched down at 10:24:24.85 – board flat, knees at 110°, impact 2.9 g absorbed by 7 mm of EVA and 3 mm of neoprene. GPS logged 31.7 knots as he rode out of the crater he had carved in the sea.

Behind him the 11 g WOO pod had fired 1 247 data points down the BLE pipe: accelerations, gyros, magnetometer quaternions and barometric samples. By 10:25:02 the cloud algorithm stripped noise, corrected temperature drift and posted 40.00 m – rounded from 40.004 because the firmware truncates at centimetres. Within four minutes the global leaderboard rewrote itself, nudging Brodel to silver and collapsing the forty-metre ceiling riders had treated like aviation myth.

Energy, Irony and the Next Horizon

The beach offered no podium, no confetti. A cluster of locals hooted; a tourist lowered her phone, unaware she had filmed aerospace history. Hugo unhooked, walked to his mother who had timed the flight on an analogue watch, and asked, “Under three?” She nodded; he exhaled.

Metrics tell the longer tale: 31.4 kJ of mechanical work – 22 kJ from the aerofoil, 9.4 kJ from his own legs. Potential energy at apex equalled hoisting a 2 kg brick to the tenth floor. The lines, end-to-end, span wider than an A320’s wingspan; tension at send beat the draw-weight of a medieval longbow. Had the canopy exploded, the falling arc would have punched 15 kJ into the water – enough to snap a femur – hence the vest rated to 50 g and the EN-1385 helmet.

Meteorology, materials and muscle converged to make the number. A 992 hPa low squeezed isobars to 4 hPa per 100 km, funnelling 22 m/s at 100 m height. Water at 15 °C created a 1.2 °C air-sea delta, ironing turbulence to 8 % and gifting the “liquid wind” surface. The SONIC5’s 59 cells and 6.8 aspect ratio stay coherent at 30 ° angle of attack; the 138 × 41 cm board flattens 3 mm under load to release speed; the carbon seat harness spreads 1 200 N across the hip bones so kidneys don’t bruise at 2.5 g landings.

Historically, the curve looks Moore-like: 22 m in 2013, 29 m in 2017, 34 m in 2021, 37 m in 2024 – each 10 % gain demanding 2.5× the wattage. Extrapolation says 45 m by 2027, but only if chemists spin lines rated to 1 800 N at 25 g/m and kites stay stable at 35 ° without choking. Hugo already has CAD open on a 12 m variable-camber prototype whose servo-twisted profile could add 40 % lift on the send and bleed 60 % on the way down – patent filed jointly with his aeronautics-sister in Auckland. Their simulations warn that 45 m will ask the human frame to swallow 5.8 g at launch and 4.2 g at touchdown, forces that flirt with the grey zone of consciousness.

Back on Kite Beach the south-easter kept shredding wave-tops, indifferent to records. Hugo wrapped his lines, slid the board under his arm and walked past the empty Red Bull scaffold – ironic grandstands that had barred him from the 2025 contest. The highest jump in history had just landed metres from the judges’ chairs, yet the loudspeakers stayed mute, the scorecards blank. Somewhere a car-stereo spilled reggae and boerewors smoke drifted over the dune. The metric had changed; the horizon had stepped another stride seaward; the afternoon rolled on, eternal and unimpressed.

How high did Hugo Wigglesworth jump?

Hugo Wigglesworth soared to an incredible height of 40.00 meters (131 feet), setting a new world record in kiteboarding. This monumental jump surpassed the previous record and pushed the boundaries of what was thought possible in the sport.

What specific conditions contributed to Hugo’s record-breaking jump?

Hugo’s record-breaking jump was meticulously planned around a ‘razor-thin corridor of post-frontal pressure’ on December 6th, with south-easterly winds funneling between Table Mountain and the Atlantic. The wind speed was consistently 42 knots, gusting up to 46 knots. The ocean surface was exceptionally smooth, and the air temperature was a cool 14°C, which kept the air heavy and dense, aiding in lift. He also utilized a standing wave formed by wind colliding with a contrary current in Cape Town’s famous channel effect.

What specialized equipment did Hugo use for his 40-meter jump?

Hugo used a 9-meter FLYSURFER SONIC5 kite, which he over-pumped to nine kilopascals (two above factory specifications) to minimize drag and maximize lift. He also opted for shorter, 17-meter lines (three meters shorter than his usual contest rig), which shifted his flight window forward and increased line tension at launch. His gear included a carbon harness, a 4/3 wetsuit, an impact vest, and a 138 cm twin-tip board that flattened by 3mm under load to release extra speed.

How did Hugo Wigglesworth time his jump so precisely?

Hugo’s timing was a result of meticulous planning and hundreds of practice runs. He studied ripple patterns to anticipate 90-to-110-second wave pulses. He initiated his approach by carving an ‘S’ shape 40 meters from his chosen wave to preload his lines, then sprinted the final 80 meters. He timed his launch perfectly with a 1.7-meter wave peak, feeding the bar four centimeters and driving his back heel to flatten his board, maximizing speed and lift at the critical moment.

What forces did Hugo experience during his jump and landing?

During launch, Hugo experienced a spike of 4.7 g for 0.28 seconds. At the apex of his 40-meter flight, weightlessness lasted 3.02 seconds, and he maintained 890 N of line tension. Upon landing, he absorbed an impact of 2.9 g, which was cushioned by 7mm of EVA and 3mm of neoprene in his gear, ensuring his safety despite the substantial forces involved. The impact vest he wore was rated to 50 g, and his helmet was EN-1385 certified, highlighting the extreme nature of the sport.

What is considered the ‘next horizon’ in kiteboarding jumps, and what challenges does it present?

The ‘next horizon’ in kiteboarding is predicted to be a 45-meter jump by 2027. Achieving this will require significant advancements in materials, such as lines rated to 1,800 N at 25 g/m, and kites that remain stable at a 35° angle of attack. Hugo is already working on a 12-meter variable-camber prototype with his sister, designed to add 40% lift at launch and shed 60% on descent. However, simulations warn that a 45-meter jump would subject the human body to 5.8 g at launch and 4.2 g at touchdown, forces that push the limits of human consciousness and safety.