Indonesia is known for unbelievable surf but unbelievable surf doesn't necessarily mean easy surf. I surfed reef breaks before but never like this. Most waves were serious, took commitment, and profound amount of respect. Some you had to hire a boat to get to and approach from the back of the wave. It's a nerve wracking experience approaching an unknown wave from the back, jumping in the water and giving it a go. You just don't know what you're getting into until you scout that first set from the inside.
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| Heading into the unknown. |
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| The copilot. |
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| Givin it a go. |
Over the course of the trip I paddled into some of the best waves of my life, found a gentle left hander that I loved and will not name on the internet, and pushed my limits to new places. I'll start with the pushing my limits. It can best be described in the email I wrote to Chris while we were on the trip. We were coordinating a pick-up from the airport but I couldn't let this little gem slip by.
9/17/12 - 10:17PM
...Went out this morning with an Aussie from the hotel to a gnarly wave. Dudes getting barreled everywhere. Honestly it was fucking scary. Once I got out my legs were shaking and to get back in you had to ride one! Fuck. To top it off the waved crashed into a 50 foot cliff face and there Is only one tiny notch to get in. Current was rushing like a river sideways. Hairball dude. I managed to ride a small one, failed my first attempt to get out. Scramble back out to the lineup and finally made it out where I proceded to pull my balls out of my throat.
I heart small waves.
Jonny
I found a video of the cave that you have to enter and exit into a sideways rip. Things get interesting at about 1 minute into the video.
And here is a quick video of the thing when it's really big and teethy. It wasn't like this at all but it sure felt like it.
The next day I was back in the water outside our hotel on a left hander they call Impossibles. The reason they call it Impossibles is because it breaks like a runaway freight train. If you don't get out in front of it your toast. Taking a fall into three feet of water (maybe less) over sharp reef. It's tough because when you get a good one all you want to do is milk it to the last drop but the smart money kicks out off the lip.
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| Looks small from here but that's overhead and firing. |
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| High tide peelers in the afternoon. |
I found that surfing early on this trip was my thing. Set the alarm for 6:30AM and be on the outside before 7AM. This particular morning I was out with three other guys. There was the owner of the place we were staying, a 60 something year old Italian dude. He surfed in a neoprene life jacket because he would rather go for a drag across the reef that be held down by a mack truck. Fair enough. There was a skinny French dude in a shortie wetsuit who was quietly catching a lot of waves on a 7' gun. And a super friendly Australian, who could rip, rocking a red cotton t-shirt as a rashguard. Me and the Aussie missed the first few waves we paddled for. It was frustrating but you really didn't want to go much later or deeper. With a big smile he turned to me and said "Looks like we've got to go late to catch these things. Gotta commit." That was it. That's always it with the big waves. The only way to catch one is to accept the possibility of taking one on the head. Just as the statement rested in my mind the set was on us and I was in postion to go. I paddled deep and late when all I wanted to do was retreat. I paddled almost parallel to the wave pointing down the line as it walled. It gave my the push and I was up. Racing down the line, up and down the face to generate as much speed as possible to stay in front of the wave. By now I had made five or six racy turns down the face as it continued to open up and wall up in front of me. It was one of the rare moments when you knew you were in it. Maybe I dragged the fingers across the face, I'm not sure. All I know it it just continued to peel, a vertical head-high wall. Up the wall, turn at the lip, down the face, big bottom turn, over and over again. Finally, I watched the last section pitch out, I missed the exit off the back. Raced down the face in front of it, shot the board up away from the reef and stepped feet first into the fury. Not a bad beating at all. Regrouped. Paddle back out and continued the process for a few more hours but that first one was by far the best.
I never felt like I crushed it on any of the serious waves. I was just getting by. But on the morning before we flew home I got up early and paddled out at the first place I surfed at the beginning of the trip, that lovely little left I will not forget. And that's when I realized how much had changed. The big ones were fun, I made the wacky ones work, and realized in that crowd I was one of the best unlike the other days at the big dog breaks. That final day there was swell in the water but it didn't feel that big after what I had been dealing with. I knew my senses had been recalibrated after I rode my last one in and saw half of a surfboard floating on the inside. I grabbed it and paddled it in so nobody would get clocked. On the beach a woman ran up with the other half of her board under her arm and told me she kicked out but the lip snapped her board. Maybe it was big.
