Videos, Pix and Stuff

I Hope We Can Still Be Friends, New Zealand

When the sun shines in New Zealand, the landscape is positively lambent, offset by a turquoise sea that is delightfully banded by white or black sand beaches.  The beaches stretch for miles (literally, 90 of them at the top of the north island) and the fields and hills are dotted by cows, sheep and--very, very rarely--a human being.

The people are a hardy folk.  I think the reason their rugby team, the All Blacks, is so good is because there are a disproportionate number of HUGE dudes walking around with broad upper bodies and tree trunks for legs. Probably from wrassling livestock all the time--this remark shared by a kiwi pal I hung with in Bali, not my original thought. You couldn’t go 10km without seeing an All Black flag flying somewhere.

Whether due to the influence of the “Lord the Rings” being filmed here or a condition pre-dating the film,like hobbits the kiwis frequently spurn shoes. You can see this on display in cities like Auckland, the airport, or people walking along a road in the rain. Don’t matter. Shoes not required.  Incidentally, if you are total tool with money to burn (and I say this as a big LOTR fan) you can take a 12 day “Lord of the Rings” tour of New Zealand for NZ $8000. Or visit the site yourself: www.yesiamatotaldoofuspleasetakemymoney.com.

The Kiwis are a friendly bunch as far as I have encountered. I have rarely if ever—fine, probably never--paddled out to a break and have a guy literally paddle over and greet you with a big smile and a “Howit?”  And that happened all the time. Even when Tal dropped in on some guy during one session, the Kiwi was chatty and awfully cool about it.  And last night, as we were checking the surf, some nice Piha locals rolled a huge fat joint next to us and asked us if we were interested. They looked like surf hooligans, but nice kids. And get this: the customs agent as I was heading home asked me, “Enjoy yourself in NZ, mate? Been awful wet.” He seemed genuinely concerned I might not have had a good time.  I mean, that’s some hospitality.

Now, that gets me to the “when the sun shines in NZ” opening. The sun did not shine in NZ much. Roughly 2 days. Otherwise, pretty much perpetual light to heavy rain. When you are living in a van down by the beach,  that really sucks. Now, that wouldn’t matter much if you were just surfing all the time right? You’re already wet! 

Yes, but the surf largely disappointed. And my god, did we chase. Up the island, down the island, back up the island. Piha, Shiprwrecks Bay, Raglan, Ruapuke, back to Piah, Muriwai. We scored maybe two good days with a decent swell and the strong offshore winds that you here so much about in terms of why NZ can be a great place to surf. The rest was, at best, windy beach break conditions.  Some guy quipped after a middling session that “If you have a helicopter, you can always find good surf in New Zeland.”  The theory being that if the winds are onshore on the west coast, you can hit the east coast where they’ll be offshore. The pisser is that I forgot to pack my helicopter. And that the swell was mostly hitting the west coast, no matter what the wind was doing so it might not have mattered.

Many years ago, I was thinking of going cycling in NZ with my pal Noel. My mom asked me, “Why would you go to there? It’s just like northern California.” Turns out, as with many things, mom was right.  I should add: it’s just like Norcal when the rain hits in Nov-Dec.  Cold, wet, challenging surf conditions with a lot of rugged, chunky slop that pummels you frequently in return for low quality waves.  Being back in wet suit instead of in board shorts was no fun either.

There is obviously a ton more to do in NZ than surf, especially if you like the outdoors. And I did think about hanging up the surf agenda, but the rain still woulda made hiking or going to the beach subprime. I shoulda gone to Marlborough and spent my time wine tasting, but we were tempted and then betrayed over and over again by the surf forecasts.

Oh, by the way, you can get NZ wine cheaper at home than you can here. Even the lamb was surprisingly expensive. Someone, not entirely credible, attributed this to a rough spring with lots of frost that killed off lots of little lambies, thus driving up prices. (In case you are a Wall Street exec and thus perhaps don’t understand economic theory:  When supply goes down, prices go up;  which  is bad for my wallet. Think about it as sort of like when you innovate financial products that create no value to society (e.g. credit default swaps) to hedge your highly leveraged transactions on dubious mortgage derivatives and there is a huge run on liquidity as market confidence expires and your firm collapses,  which is also bad.  And in the case of the lambies, there is no $700 billion dollar tax payer option to bail them out.

With weather forecasts encouraging the purchase of an ark for the foreseeable future, I decided to blow this taco stand and head home 2 days early. I can go surf in sloppy beach break in the cold at home for less money and not live in a van down the river.  

Sorry, New Zealand, things didn’t work out. But I still respect you and I hope we can be friends.

Missive from the Depths of Unwinding

I've had a few emails recently asking if I'm still alive, if I have joined Colonel Kurtz's gang up the river or perhaps am now communicating (ineffectively) via smoke signals.

The truth is, I've been deeply relaxed and turning on the computer and dealing with the sporadic connections seemed like a drag. Some of you still working or parenting for a living (or both) may wonder how relaxed you can get after 2 months of indulging in endless beachy fun. Well, let me try to explain how it worked in my case.

Case Study 1: My last dawn session in Bali (well, not quite, more on that below), I was talking to someone between sets. I said I'd been in Bali a month but I was okay leaving because--whether another day, another month, another year--I didn't think I could unwind further. There were a few breaks I wish I'd gotten around to surfing but I'd surfed so much going out and seeing the sunrise or sunset was just as cool as catching a wave. It would be nice to hang out longer, but it would also be nice for a change of scenery. I had the thought out loud and not consciously before that moment but realized it was true. I was really, really chilled out.

Case Study 2: Another way I found out how relaxed I really was occurred when I missed my flight to New Zealand. It's a long story, but the short story is I was too relaxed. It ended up costing quite a bit of money in the end to get sorted out. Someone told me maybe there was A Reason I missed my flight (you know, it crashed or was taken over by genetically evolved apes or whatever people think when they say things like that). But if there was a reason, it was discovering that I was so relaxed that the events which led to me missing my plane could happen in the first place... It was actually, in a warped way, a good thing. Or my ability to see it that way must be a good thing. Or something. I'm too relaxed to continue thinking about this. And, bonus: I avoided those damn apes!

So, obviously I surfed a lot since my last posting. I did some other fun stuff too. I had a nicely timed break from surfing after a two sessions in some seriously big surf. During one session, this HUGE swell had showed up out of nowhere about 20 minutes after we got in the water. I've been in some big surf the last few months. This was the first time the whole trip where I was on the verge of panic. Maybe past verging. The ocean had turned very, very ugly. The guy I was surfing with gotcaught inside, pounded and washed ashore with a broken board. I realized getting out of the water--navigating double overhead slabs, a crazy rip and huge surf pounding down on the beach--was going to now be the main goal of the session (surfing at the moment no longer being an interest of mine).

Anyhoo, I then passed a few very fun days in Ubud, taking a cooking class, going on a cycling tour (during which a 7 foot cobra cruised across the road in front of us) and getting my longest massage ever (nearly 2 hours). Ubud is a great place to unwind and soak up Balinese culture. In addition to learning how to cook some staple Balinese dishes, the cooking class included a tour of local markets and rice paddies.

It was interesting to learn that the local farmers are going organic. Moving away from a government-assisted program of chemical fertilizers used for the last 30 years or so, farmers are now going back to a more natural cycle that includes keeping flocks of ducks in each family's paddies that help contain insects, provide natural fertilizer etc. Apparently, rice output has virtually doubled off the same acreage as the move to organic has taken place. Plus, the ducks are super cute. And they make a nice Thanksgiving dish.

I arrived in New Zealand 2 days ago. It's pretty much rained the entire time so I'd be lying if I said I'd fallen in love with the place. Per what you hear, there are a lot of sheep and few people. The topography is very reminiscent of the Sonoma coast. I'm spending the next few days in a surf camp, but my Israeli pal and I are more or less going to be cruising around in a camper searching for waves the entire time. For those of you who know my feelings about camping, you would be amused to see how I'm living. I think its going to make me really psyched to return home. We better score some good surf for this s***. I did grill up some tasty lamb at our camp site on night one. After two months of a diet consisting of way too much rice and chicken, eating red meat and  bread again felt like heaven. Oh, and wine! Man was it good to have some red wine.

I'm looking foward to seeing some of you readers soon--hard to believe, but the journey is on its final 2 weeks.

Let's Go to the Video

The replacement GoPro has been finally procured. Some early footage above. And yes, as is probably evident by my expression, I am literally thinking "oh crap" as I drop into that first one, realizing I'm too deep... The GoPro doesn't really capture size very well but if you check out my line of sight up the to the top of the wave, you can get an idea...

Dreamlands

Yesterday we went to a break called Dreamlands. Well named. That's me dropping in on a walled up piece of loveliness that went on forever. There were only five of us on this peak most of the morning. Just down the coast from very famous breaks Uluwatu, Padang, Impossibles and Bingin (all of which can be seen breaking from the lineup), our guide says Dreamlands never gets too crowded. It needs to be big to work and involves parking in a resort. So, the hardcore go the aftermentioned breaks, avoid the parking, and beginners don't come here because it's too big. I hope we get to go back. I had to conserve energy as I was just beginning to feel better after recovering from Bali Belly, so had to make sure every wave counted. I also got to expend some energy after getting caught inside on a huge rogue set that caught all of us off guard--probably the most heavy extended washing machine treatment of the trip so far. By the 4th wave, I think we had all been practically swept back to shore.

Evening was another session at Old Mans, below. The German guy I've been surfing with, Fabian (who looks like a 6 foot version of Dirk Novitsky), observed its funny its called Old Man's, because sometimes the drop here can be fast and steep depending on the tide. A rain shower had come through late afternoon, calmed the offshore winds, and turned the water to class. Some fun sets came through and I found an uncrowded corner taking right-handers, of which I think I'd only had one since arriving in Bali.

Tonight, the biggest swell since I've been here is supposed to hit so we're all hoping for a great dawn session tomorrow morning.

Mmmm... Bali

Foot seems to have used to the week off to get its recovery on. Also on--the Bali sickness!

Last night was one of "those" sessions. Paddled out about 5pm to one of the breaks on the beach in front of the villa. It's called "Old Mans" as its a really good long board break (I'm assuming Bill will have some snarky comment at some point about this). Note to non-surfers:  All the young kids have to ride shortboards (and snear at LBs), rock tattoos, dye their hair, try to look like they are in hiphop group and generally look like they need a smack--goddamn whippersnappers, why can't these punks just get jobs?

So, grandpa busted out the 8'0" for the first time since the Philippines and paddled out with two other folks from the camp. We had the peak all to ourselves for most of the session. We're in another bit of a lull until a new, bigger swell hits tomorrow. But there were some fun, powerful shoulder high sets that came through that offered up long, long rides. And I kept having to remind myself that I would kill for a session like that at home at moments I was wishing it was a little bigger or more consistent.

As the sun went down where the water met the horizon, it formed a rainbow arcing above us out of the showers that were hitting the shore (but not us). The air was crystal clear to the northeast and we had a clear view of the big volcano. It was insanely beautiful. We were all joking we just needed a floating warung (the local term for the cafe/bar/restaurant) serving up ice cold beers. And some dolphins. Or better yet, dolphins serving up ice cold beers.

This morning, had a 5am wake to go to Uluwatus Secret. Such a gorgeous, gorgeous setting below a hundred foot cliff face, deep blue water and powerful waves. There were some very large sets that rolled through, but mostly head high stuff. I got off to a great start, had a lull in the middle of the session caused by poor wave selection, a bunch of nimrods who had no business being out there floating dangerously in the take off zone, and two really good surfers who nailed everything that came through leaving the rest of us what was left. I got two gorgeous waves to end the session so it all worked out ok.  We also a flyover by two US naval choppers and then a drive by frigate. Obama is there for the summit next week and I guess he's got the Navy out scoping good breaks for him.

Getting out was a chore. The tide had really come up and we had to paddle back a long way over the reef that we had hiked over but was now submerged, watching our backs for occasional sets that came barreling through. I was worked by the time I got out.

A Restful Week

Today was the first day I’ve surfed in 5 days.

Part of that was due to lousy conditions. That prompted Lizzie and I to head up north to a little hamlet called Balian. The spot had come highly recommended by a couple from Santa Cruz I met in Balangan (he was a glasser and had worked for the shop that glassed one of my boards).  The story was that Balian is super peaceful, nestled in rice paddies and located along the coast in such a way to pick up swell that wasn’t hitting the south.  All of that was true.

Each day, the surf got a little bigger, building from 2-3 feet on Tuesday to 8-10 by Friday. Sadly, my injured foot kept me out of the water the entire time.  Even walking was painful so I dedicated myself to rest which wasn’t so bad once I accepted it. 

The surf did look really fun though—big and powerful but not too steep and crazy. The break was right in front of a river mouth. And it poured several times we were there—I mean, pouring for hours and hours. Get your ark stuff. Which meant lots of stuff flowing out into ocean and you know what likes that… One of the guides from our former camp saw a shark out there 2 days in a row. And then a guide at my new camp here in Canggu said it’s not just (harmless) reef sharks—there are bull sharks up there. And there have a been a few attacks, which is very rare in Bali as a whole.  Needless to say, that stuff about Balian is hush hush and not on the brochures.   

That aside, Balian is a pretty amazing oasis. While obviously the Aussies have discovered it, there are only 4 or 5 small villas there at all so it can only get so crowded. Development seems to be happening slowly for now at least. And if the Balinese are just a ridiculously nice people in general, there are beyond nice in Balian. Every single person you pass smiled at you with 1000 watts. Everyone seems excited you are there. Our little place was overbooked and we actually had to spend one night in the house of our hotelier, which was an experience (largely because that was the night of the worst rain and we were sorta trapped inside).

In the small world category: Three Americans turn up at the small place we stayed. One of them says, “You look familiar. Do you surf?” Yes. “Do you surf Bolinas?” Turns out they are from Mill Valley, born and raised.  How crazy is that? Since I was hobbled and there weren’t great boards for rent, I offered the guy use of my Mystic. He was stoked. He was even more stoked after his 3 hour session and was raving about the Mystic. I’m sure—that wave just looked perfect for that board.

Now down south again at Canggu, the next camp. Vaguely surprised I made it. I’ve pretty much become numb to the driving here, but yesterday was truly hair-raising. The roads here are barely two lane but are driven as though they are four. There are schools of scooters, trucks, buses, mayhem. Our driver made repeated accelerations around huge trucks and buses into blind corners. On numerous occasions, it seemed he didn’t see the onrushing wall of hot metal death and sort of “woke up” in time to lurch back behind whatever we’d been trying to pass. I understand there are 8 scooter fatalities a week here.  Not surprising one little bit. Safer to go rub yourself in meat and swim at Balian.

Scene here is very surf campy.  Everybody (not me) went out last night and got hammered, returning around 4am. I woke up early thanks to the loud return of my fellow guests.  The foot felt ready to test and so I headed out to beat the crowds. There is a short walk to the beach with several breaks right here.

I scored a bunch of really fun waves this morning—big, thick waves with very long, walled up open faces. Not very technical and an easy drop which meant they were great waves to practice cuts and turns on, since you weren’t trying to survive a nasty closeout.  It was so good to be back in the water (even though this water is really gross due to a lot of run off—definitely a bummer after all the pristine reefs I’ve been surfing).

Wrapping Up A Week in Balangan

Almost a week down in Bali. It's felt a lot more busy than Siargao. In part, because surfing here has involved a drive to a break most days, sometimes two times a day. So, you end up spending around 2 hours in back and forth per session, plus 2-3 for the session... you can do the math. Barely time for naps. Plus, the bigger surf group (some Brits, Germans, Italians, my friend Lizzie from SF) has meant more social hang out time than the lazy afternoons in a hammock in the 'pines.

After my dismal outing last reported at White Rock, I returned the next day and had some success. The first 45 minutes were more of the same, but I tried to really study what the waves were doing, how the current was pulling us down the reef, where/how people were getting into them, and harnessing my frustration and turning it into a commitment to charge over the edge. It finally started clicking. It required taking late, steep drop ins, over a fairly shallow reef that got more shallow as you went down the line. But once I'd made a couple, I found a good rhythm and caught waves until I literally couldn't paddle out one more time. Totally stoked. I was exhausted going up the long climb up the cliff (White Rock has a steep set of stairs carved into the cliff that goes on forever--reportedly 200 steps. I haven't counted. The day before I was so frustrated, I turned it into a punishing cardio workout and probably got my heart up to 170 or so... Supris, one of the Balinese kids who guide us, was clearly determined to stay with me but I could here him wheezing and gasping about halfway up. He finally stopped to "admire the view" near the top. He's a great surfer, but I don't seem him racing bikes.)

We came back the next day. Conditions were less consistent and it was back to frustration. I caught one good wave, fell off of two, and chickened out of one monster to my backside. I eventually paddled in and enjoyed the setting sun lighting up the gorgeous reef at the end of the world. I could also see why I'd been struggling. Where I'd been fighting the current was a lot of big, closeout surf. Our guide Jessi paddled in (who I saw take several severe beatings on the many closeouts that were on order for the day) and asked how it had gone. I said poorly. She responded, "Well, that's surfing isn't it? The bad days make the good ones seem that much sweeter."

The next morning, I woke up literally at the first light cracked the horizon. I waxed my board and headed for the beach. Incredibly, I was still the second person to make the line up. It was probably the best day here at Balagan so far, which is not saying much. I had two of the best sessions of my life here last year, but the surf has been quite different. Still, there were really clean, glassy, fast breaking waves peeling off the reef, mostly waist high but very occasionally shoulder-to-head high. The drop in was so fast... and almost every wave turned into a quick close out at some point... the only question was where. It happened so fast you were sure to get a minor to major beating. I dropped in on one of the largest waves to roll through, a bit hastily and a bit deep. The drop was lighting fast and the face was practically vertical. It felt like I had only a few inches of my inside rail actually in the wave (which I'm sure was actually the case). It was a bit overhead as I hit the trough and I could see it feathering above me--I thought I might be about to get barreled. Instead, with dismay I saw the face bowl up about 15 feet in front of me and the hole thing closed out as I was pulling in up the face (to get my fantasy barrel). I wish I had video of that it was a beating worth sharing. Anyway, it was a fun session with a nice haul of racy little waves and a relatively relaxed vibe after the bigger, more challenging stuff we've been surfing all week.

In the afternoon, we went into Kuta, the tourist stronghold of Bali. Picked up some board shorts, got a good massage and strolled around for an hour being reminded how much Kuta sucks. Careening scooters, drunken foreign idiots, 5 foot wide alleys with mult-directional traffic, ominpresent touts selling stuff, dirt, noise, yuck. Bali seems even busier than I remember and there is development happening everywhere. I hope the Balinese are getting their piece of the pie, but I've been told its largely Chinese investors who are making all the money.

Today has been a lazy day of rest, recovery and Bin Tang. Balangan is dead flat. The foot has gotten pretty sore again, not so much from surfing I think but rather from the long hikes up and down cliffs to get to the breaks.

Tomorrow, we're up at dawn for a morning session. Then I leave Balangan and head north to a small hamlet called Balian. A couple from Santa Cruz who were staying here raved about the place and said it was a incredibly peaceful place. And the coastal set up tends to amplify whatever small swell is in the water so hopefully there will be some good waves up there.

Random Snacks Hall of Fame

Yup, those are fish.

Back in Bali

If you look at a map, you would think getting from Siargao to Bali would be easy. Not so much. Itinerary:

Sunday
4:30am wake up
5:30am ferry to Surigao island (3 hours)
1pm Fly to Cebu (4 hour layover, 1 hour flight)
8pm Cebu to HK (painless 2.5 hour flight, painful 6 hour layover)
HK (sleep in airport hotel, as I have a 10 hour layover)

Monday
10am depart for Bali, 5 hour flight.

I finally arrived at the surf lodge around 4pm Monday afternoon. The funny thing about the lodge is that isn't not on the beach, like the one I booked. In fact, it's not what I booked. After more logistics, it was arranged that I would transfer the next day to the right place.

I'm now settling into how nice it is to be back in Bali. The people here are, if anything, even nicer than I remembered. So much laughter, so many smiles. The surf hasn't been great, in fact a lot of folks are downright dejected as its about as flat as Bali gets. It means the breaks that are working are crowded, and without good size you've got rank beginners in lineups where normally they'd be getting pounded and swept into shore. I'm not worried as I've got enough time. And there are still waves to be had if you are patient, waves that would make your day back home.

Yesterday, we had a 5am wakeup call in a rainstorm to go to a "secret spot" near Uluwatu. It required climbing down a cliff, through a cave and along a low tide reef for about half a mile. But when we got there, the five of us had it all to ourselves. Throughout the trek were the little prayer baskets and burning incense that are a staple of Bali, which just lent to the atmosphere. I caught a coupla fun waves but it was definitely inconsistent. The rain stopped but it was overcast for most of our session. While it was still plenty warm for me, the Balinese guides with us were frozen, their teeth chattering despite layering up with double rashguards. They kept trying to convince us it was time for breakfast ("Yum, pancakes") but no one was buying it. More waves, please.

Midway through the session one of the guides told me I needed a shorter board, I was too good to be riding the board I was on. That was nice to hear, even though I would prove him wrong (see below about our afternoon session). At one point, he saw me fail to make it around a section of one wave and said, "Kiernan, you need to make speed faster. Make speed faster!" We were all cracking up in the lineup about that one. I later told him that he should spin his arms around while we waited for the sets, that way he could "make warm faster."

In the afternoon, we drove south to the end of the Bukit pennisula to a place that picks up any swell around. The conditions were actually pretty fun, lots of head high and above waves that hollowed up as the session went on. I surfed horribly and always seemed to be in the wrong spot and bungled it the few times I was. I finally paddled in rather than let the surf gods continue to mock me and sat on a gorgeous, virtually empty white sand beach and watched better surfers than I carve it up in the azure water.

Time to get ready for the days session. Heading back to the scene of my lameness yesterday. There is supposed to be a big swell coming in next week, but big here means BIG so we'll see how that all works out.

Something I'm learning about surf trips and surfing in general is you really have to assume nothing. You can get skunked with bad surf even in Indo; you can get effectively shut out by surf that's too big (e.g. the daily beatings Chris and I took in Costa Rica earlier this year). You can paddle out on a day without promise and the winds shift, things line up and it turns into a dream. And while I've had some great sessions in my travels so far, and some of the best waves of my life, nothing beats having a magic day at your home breaks with your local crew.

Wherever you are, whatever your plan, you never really know when the ocean is going to give you those magic sessions, you just have to keep showing up and waiting for it all to come together.

Sayonara Siargao

Today is the last day in Siargao. Time flies. I take a ferry tomorrow am to nearby Surigao. From there, a flight and overnight to Hong Kong, then to Bali the next day. I leave here a poorer man in some ways (1 pair board shorts, stolen off porch; 1 HD surf cam, destroyed by water damage due to user stupidity) but way richer on the whole.

I'm gong to miss my treehouse bungalow. if you ever make it to Patrick's, I would request it. So sweet. Perched right over the water, at high tide you can hear the waves lapping underneath the floor boards.


And this sunrise was shot from the porch this morning. Not a bad way to wake up and get psyched for bacon.


It's been quiet the last few days. After badly spraining my foot on a bungled take off, I've been icing, resting, playing uke and working on ClassMonkeys. The foot should be back in action for Bali.

The consolation was I had my best session of the trip (or ever) when I got injured, and the surf has faded since then. Fast, fun overhead sets. Just Ryan and I, joined by a few locals during part of the session. We caught the last sets as the sun went down. The water looked like someone took all those cool, weird colors in the giant Crayola boxes and melted onto the ocean surface. We hardly said a word on the boat ride back. Ryan eventually said something like "This is one of those sessions you always remember." Yup.

I never did get to surf Cloud 9 but after watching the scene there don't regret that one bit. Crowd 9 indeed.

Time to go jump on a boat, try some snorkelling. Maybe a little stand up paddling though that might mean I have to get all Karate Kid on the one leg. We'll see.

3 Days of Bliss

Since my last post, the surf has been on. We've been doing 2 sessions daily and I'm exhausted.

We had some fun sessions at a different outer reef break, about 30 minutes off the island . It was a nice point break, which meant you could anchor the boat right next to the break (where Alex got this sequence of me and the Avocado). There was also a nice channel on either side of the wave so you didn't have to paddle through the oncoming waves if it got too big. The first day we went there it was shocking--there were actually 10-12 other people in the water. The first time that's happened. Needless to say we were outraged at this inconvenience. There were a few locals who were totally cool, and the rest were tourists who weren't very good surfers. They were mostly just dangerous as they'd drop in without looking and then lie around on the inside after getting pummeled, boards floating loose. But they all left about halfway through our session and then we had it all to ourselves.

The swell really picked up last night. For our evening session, Tal, Tedo and I headed back to the reef that has been our "home" break (called Cemetaries, as it's off the beach from the local burial grounds). We paddled out and the sets were steady overhead and a half and a few bigger. It was about as big as it gets for me to be able to be out there.

Though we'd probably surfed here 7 or 8 times before, we discovered that this particular reef is really difficult when it gets big. There aren't any good channels through which you can paddle out, so you needed to make it through several layers of breaking surf to get to the (empty) lineup. Pretty much out of gas, I was vaguely surprised I made it out at all. I figured I might not be so lucky a second time, so I took my time and waited for a good one, dropped into a sparkling emerald wall and got a long, fast ride. I should have kicked out sooner but took it as far as I could. I then took a 15 minute beating trying to get back out before I gave up and paddled back to the boat. It would have been nice to catch one more but having the big stuff arrive at the end of 3 days of double sessions was bad timing. My neck, shoulders and back were marinating in lactic acid. I had that empty gas tank feeling that I associate with words like "cycling," "Noel, "Alps," and "Galibier."

It was Tal and Alex's last night, so we left the resort and went to a restaurant run by 2 German ex pats (with a Brazilian couple that just arrived and had been on the boat with us all day). After a long day surfing and island hopping, we were all exhausted. It was Sunday so there no transport around and we hoofed it home under a blanket of stars. It was probably only a 15-20 minute walk but I think we were all so tired it felt a lot longer.

Surf is supposed to be pumping the rest of the week. I'm taking the day off to recover from trying to keep up with Tal the Israeli Energizer Bunny. I'll miss having Tal to push my surfing (and Alex was a total gem too), but we're planning to hook up in New Zealand, where he is going now and I will be after Bali. Safe travels guys!

Jeff, This One’s For You

Musser complained about the lack of surfing exploits in the blog. If there was no surf again, today was going to be the day I chronicled the rampant phenomenon of the 50 year old male tourists and their young Philippino girlfriends (and/or lady boys), but that’s going to have to wait.

Happily, the ocean gave me something to write about today.

Tal and I agreed last night to get up at 5am to go to Cloud Nine in a search for surf. The spot is a world famous wave. It was featured in “Endless Summer,” is the site of a surf competition etc. etc. A right short right hander, it’s got a big open barrel. It’s also called “Crowd Nine” because it’s always got thirty people on it; and there is really only one take off spot. I wasn’t even planning on trying this wave because I’m here to avoid crowds. But this little working anywhere else, we’ll give it a shot and see if we can beat the people with a dawn patrol.

We load two boards on a motorcycle and drive 15 minutes down one of the worst roads on the island, which is saying something. We get there and there it is, the famous wave. Five or six feet of dumping, close out mush. Not one person in the water and for good reason.

We go back, eat breakfast and decide to take a boat out to the reef—there is a definitely something breaking out there. We can hear it. On the way out, we see one a few flying fish break the surface (a pretty common sight, and in fact, one launched into my thigh last week) but this time we see what’s chasing them—a big barracuda or a wahoo, leaping out of the water 4 or 5 times after its prey.

We have our own prey in sight—finally, after days of drought, we can see the low tide peelers breaking fast out on the reef. Tal and I paddle out with one of the local kids, Tedo. He is maybe 15 years old, 130 pounds wet and shreds. Tal is 25, an ex-Israeli Navy Seal, is a sick, charging surfer who rides a potato chip of a board, catches anything he wants, and then rips on it. And then there’s me.

And that’s it. And waves. Lovely, glassy, turquoise waves, walling up with some nice open shoulders. I’m on my new 7’8” hybrid board (which Greg B. dubbed “The Avocado”). I had a lousy session on it yesterday (in crap waves) but I’ve only been out on it a handful of times and I’m starting to get a feel for it. It paddles slower than my longer boards and requires a lot more strength. I’m still getting used to the timing and later take-offs required (not to mention the steep wave faces that are on tap today). While I bungle a few waves and catch a rail a few times, I also catch a bunch of fun ones. My best wave of the session is head high. I fly down the line trailing a hand in the face, catch an inside section, then see it walling up to close out ahead of me. I jam down into the trough of the wave and fly out of a hard bottom turn over the lip… I’m airborne for a few seconds, long enough to wonder if there is enough water between me and the reef (there is!). So fun… not something I’ve ever experienced on a long board which can’t really make a maneuver like that.

We have a good 90 minutes of super fun, solid surf. Then a rain squall comes in and the ocean turns super choppy, game over. Which is fine. When you can catch wave after wave with no competition you don’t really need much longer than that to get worked and ready for lunch

It was so good, we decide to do a double session. We push the boat out and Ryan tries to start the engine. Around 40 times. No go. By now, we’ve drifted hundreds of yards out and down the beach, so we have to pole our way back to shore. Then the real show begins. The restaurant staff are eating on the patio as we pole our way home. They are all cracking up and one yells “Big waves?” Then a progression of local boatmen get on to try to start the engine. No go. At one point everyone starts chanting the name of one guy named something like “Doh Gung” who steps aboard our little craft with great authority. Nope.

Anyway, 45 minutes later, we have a new boat, load the gear and we’re off. Conditions are even better. It is a sick session. A few 8 foot waves roll through which none of us are ever in position to get but it is a solid 5-6 foot on the sets. I finally really started feeling natural on the Avocado and getting more aggressive with wave selection. It is speedy and can really cut some sharp turns. What a blast. I also discovered that despite its length and relative thickness, with enough strength you can duck dive it (which was necessary more than once—I took a beating during the first session because I didn’t get the board deep enough when a big set caught us by surprise).

And what a scene… The sun is at our backs as we watch the horizon for the sets. In this light, the water is a deep emerald with translucent blue/green at the edge of the white water… paddling back out through the breakers after a wave is amazing… as the waves rear up, the deep emerald fades to a softer green and picks up the refracted colors and textures from the reef below, creating the illusion that reef is curling up over you. Tal, Ryan and I catch more waves than I can count. (Tal catches 5 waves for every one that Ryan and I catch, so I really can’t count his—oh, to be 25). I get another whee-fun aerial kick out. At one point an overhead beauty rolls through and Ryan and I both paddle for it… he is deeper in the wave to my right, so he has priority and I sit up… but he looks too deep… and sure enough, his face registers a “D’OHHHHHH” as the peak collapses on him. When he emerges from his beating, he says he fell to the bottom of the trough and then got sucked back up and over the falls…

Despite the increasing fatigue in the arms, shoulders and neck it’s too good to stop. We have drifted way down the reef and realize we have a long, long, long paddle back to the boat which is anchored on the other side of the reef. But we are so stoked we just keep catching one more wave, one more wave. I don’t know how long we were out. At least 2 and a half hours, maybe more. All I know is I limped back to the boat. After riding the white water as far as possible, there was still 300 yards to go to the boat. In my state, it felt like 300 miles.

But oh, everyone was smiling in the boat. No talking, too tired. But lots of smiling.

Tal, who had missed lunch because he was paddle-boarding with his girlfriend, got back and immediately ordered a plate of pasta Bolognese. And a plate of pasta carbonara. He’d been talking about it in the lineup for a while but I thought he was kidding. I had a huge fruit smoothie with mango, strawberries, banana, jungle honey, and yogurt. That and the stoke gave me energy to type this. Now I’m going to have a beer, eat dinner, and crash. And if the forecast is correct, tomorrow is supposed to be as good or better.

Desperate enough to try stand ups....

Surf continues to be at a 5 year record lameness for what is supposed to be peak season.

The other day the nice Israeli couple I've been hanging out with and I took a boat to Daku island across from where we are staying. There is a wave there that works with a bigger swell and Ryan, our Australian guide, said it might work with paddleboards. So we packed the boat with snorkeling gear, surfboards and stand up paddleboards--ready for anything. When we arrived, the wave was kind of mushy but we actually had a hilarious time on the standups in the soft waist to chest high waves that rolled through (Greg B: Don't hate the player, hate the game). It was like learning to surf again and we had some amusing collisions and frequent wipeouts.

After, we landed on the island, which had one of the most pristine "I'm in a postcard" beaches I've ever seen. There was a small village on the island, about 600 people. No electricity. Pigs, chickens, dried octopus. Very simple life.

Good On Ya, Ben

Yesterday, one of the guys I’ve been surfing with went back home to New Zealand. Ben cut quite a figure. A lean and rangy guy probably in his early 50s, his arms and shoulders were be-decked in Maori tattoos. A strong, charging surfer, he had intense blue eyes, and walked over the reef in his bare feet like it was grass. He reminded me of Wez in the Road Warrior.

Once I got to know Ben, he was a really gentle guy and not at all like Wez who, I believe it’s fair to argue, is one of the all-time bad guys in movie history .

If you consider the sum total of Wez’ actual dialogue consisted of a few sentences—and that much of his villainy was portrayed nonverbal ly—one must at least consider the notion that Vernon Wells was unfairly bypassed for a Best Supporting Actor nod (the 1981 Academy Award was won by John Gielgud in “Arthur.” Remember him? I don’t.)

From a brief bit of research, the sum total of his dialogue appears to be as follows (not including any yells, grunts etc.):

“Go, go, go”.

Context: Demonstrating his leadership skills, Wez is exhorting his team to leave their tents and pursue Mel’s character, who is driving through their camp ground in a semi and will likely crush the team if they do not follow Wez’ instructions. While clearly not a manager of, say, GE’s Jack Welch capabilities, the scene nonetheless communicates that Wez is a decisive and effective leader; especially given that one must assume he has had minimal formal leadership training.

“You!!!! You can run, but you can’t hide.”

Context: Wez communicates that he has become increasingly frustrated with Mel’s tendency to foil his various schemes. We have witnessed Wez direct and/or commit murder, rape, lethal headbutts and other violent behavior—and those victims hadn’t even pissed him off. Well's brilliant use of nonverbal techniques in conjunction with this line (angry pointing, growling and blazing, homicidal glares) communicates the words left out: that if Wez does catch Mel, things will turn grisly and in all likelihood there will be no sequel.

“No more talk! We go in! We kill! Kill! We kill 'em! They kill us, we kill them! Kill 'em! Kill 'em! Kill! Kill!”

Context: Wez’s boy lover has been killed by a steel boomerang to the skull. Heartbroken and beside himself with grief, he recommends to his boss (The Lord Humungous) a new course of action with regard the siege of a small community in which his gang is involved—i.e., terminating their existence with extreme prejudice.

While the harsh post-apocalyptic environment that is the movie’s backdrop is clearly not a fecund one for romance, Vernon Well’s convincing homicidal/maniacal response to the death of Wez ‘boy speaks volumes regarding their relationship. It is also a poignant reminder that love can take root in the most unlikely of places—and between the most unlikely of people. It’s hard for any viewer who has loved and lost not to relate to Wez’ anguish, though the impulse to respond by wiping out an entire community seems like an overly violent response through the lens of our own social conventions.

The character of Wez even more striking when considered against the backdrop of other top action movie villains. Scanning the top of American Film Institute’s “100 Years, 100 Villains”, one sees Darth Vader, The Shark (Jaws), Norman Bates, Nurse Ratchet, Hannibal Lector, The Terminator, etc. Common to all of these characters is a lack of a significant other and meaningful relationship—certainly nothing approximating love. Perhaps it is precisely the implacable nature of a foe that has no feelings for anyone or anything that contributes to their high-ranking villainy.

Not only does Wez have a partner, it is a young man; it is worth observing that one might have to go back as far as Achilles and Patroclus for such a vivid portrayal of male love amidst war in Western media and myth. Ironically, it is perhaps Wez’ ultimate humanity and vulnerability that helps to make him such an indelible part of celluloid history.

Or maybe I just really need this wind to stop blowing out the surf.