A Bowl of Stupid

Transcribed: 24 June 2007, 19:01:27

(Once again, I'm posting this just as I had written and later typed while these experiences were still fresh in my mind. In retrospect, I think I was being unduly harsh on myself and my surfing prowess (or lack thereof). I had been asking myself to completely change my style and form after having surfed a particular way for 15 years.

It's not gonna come overnight, and it's not gonna happen in some of the best, and hardest, waves in the world. If anything, this post is good in that it conveys the sheer frustration I felt after suffering days and days at a location I had - quite literally - given my entire life away for. But in retrospect again, I'm more frustrated now that I let those feeling of ineptitude take away from the experience.)

(A view of my favorite places in Indo - the incredible never-ending left at Desert Point. However, neither this picture nor the others of this, Scar Reef [below], or others can show just how amazingly fast these waves are breaking, or just how shockingly shallow the water and how nasty the reefs where all these waves break. Seriously, the waves break faster than anything else I've ever been on, and they do so in about 2-3 feet of water, right over razor sharp reef - which you can see all too clearly due to the extreme water clarity. This may be another reason why I was a bit "mind-fucked" when I was actually out there.)

Preface

For as long as I have been surfing, I have been using long and round surfboards – known to Australians as “Malibu” boards, or “Mals” for short (which itself is ironic, given that they are not called that in Malibu, California, from where the term originates).

Being bigger, Mals provide a much different type of surfing experience, and are typically not ridden as "hard" as the shortboards that everyone now associates with surfing.

In my mind, however, it was never really an issue of ease of effort. Rather, in my mind, Mals were just better for a nice fun ride on the big, slower waves that rise up along the continental shelves where I first took up the sport in earnest (California).

Moreover, I ride “regular footed” – a right footed stance with my left foot forward and my right foot back closer atop the fins to “steer” the board. A regular stance makes it easier to ride waves that break towards the right (i.e., “rights”). Conversely, people who ride with their opposite foot forward (a.k.a. “goofy footers”) can easier handle waves that break to the left (i.e. “lefts”).

That being said, most of the waves I have ridden in my life (i.e., in California and the Americas) have generally been “rights” that take the Pacific’s southern swells and rise up to meet the continental shelf – all of which catered to my surfing strengths (for lack of a better term). As such, I have always been a very limited, and very uncomplicated surfer.

In other words, I kinda suck.

However, in preparation for my sojourn to Indonesia, I had been diligently working on becoming a better and more diversified surfer. In this regard, I did the following:

– I switched to a much shorter surfboard – moving from my 9′1″ and 8′2″ Malibu long boards to a 6′10″ short board (although I was able to use the short board only once before I left the U.S.).

– I bought a 2 wheeled “Wave” skateboard that helped me practice my balance and board control, and to achieve the sharper “cuts” and other maneuvers done on short boards.

– I have, quite literally, been reading various books and articles on how to best ride “backhand” (i.e., taking left facing waves while riding “regular footed”) on Indonesia’s predominately “left” facing waves.

Now, however, I am faced with the real deal.

Most of the waves here in Indo are big and fast “lefts” rising up directly out of the deep waters of the Indian Ocean and dropping – without the benefit (or detriment, depending on your viewpoint) of a long journey and continental shelf to raise up the water before curling it into a wave.

(Another view of Desert Point - this one taken from one of the ubiquitous "luxury yachts" that haul in by the dozens those guys that can pay the money)

These waves are very different – and are quite remarkable when you see them personally.

Unlike the waves in the Americas, which will rise up above sea level upon their approach to the land, the waves here literally just drop upon reaching a reef or island – resulting in something that looks as if there is a wave “cliff” separating two distinct bodies of water, one resting 10-20 feet above the other.

It’s pretty freaking wild.

And if you’re not used to it, like me, it’s pretty freaking scary.

(One of the best breaks on the Island of Sumbawa - aptly called "Scar Reef")

Of Learning Curves And Intestinal Fortitude

With that extremely long, and extremely unnecessary, preface behind us, I will say this:

Now that I have had an opportunity to surf some of the better breaks in Indonesia (and, by implication, the world) – Desert Point, Supersucks, Dreamland, Tropicals, Lakey Peak, Mawi – I am sorry to say that not only am I an extremely untalented surfer, but I'm also a big ol' pussy.

Specifically, in those breaks that are big and heavy, dragging in tons of water over a reef only several feet below me (which, due to the crystal clear water, I can see with acute clarity), I have been having a huge problem “committing” to waves.

That is to say, as every surfer will tell you, there is a split-second when you must decide if you will take the drop down the side of a wave face rather than pull back, hopefully, and await another wave (literally, anything more than a split-second delay in this decision can result in a wipe out and, in these conditions, potentially injury).

(A look at one of a break with some of the worst winds, cross-currents, tidal flows - and generally, one of the most fucked up waves I've ever seen - "Mawi", near Kuta, Lombok, or as I like to call it — "Jurassic Park")

I have been having some problems over the past week in this regard. And once this “commitment” issue gets into your head, it’s really hard to shake it loose (much like committing to a romantic relationship, only waves come with less emotional baggage).

Moreover, on those smaller waves to which I have been able to adequately commit, I have been having problems obtaining the speed and maneuverability needed to ride these extremely fast reef breaks.

I just can’t seem to make it 3-4 seconds past the “drop” before the waves close out in front of me.

Unlike most of my prior surf trips, where I typically start out with a few bad days until I hit a groove, I have not been able to find a groove here.

Some of these are issues with getting used to these new conditions on my new surfboard (which, being made out of epoxy, is prone to being extra-buoyant and hard to gauge the proper “spot” from which to take off for a wave).

Other problems are due to the fact that I have been quickly shifting from one severe surf break to another.

Still more of these issues are, I am sure, a result of the fact I am not a very good surfer; while still others are simply the result of my general lack of intestinal fortitude.

Regardless of the causes, however, the results are the same. Although I’ve been surfing for almost 15 years now, I feel like a complete kook.

I keep remembering that my friend Javier said I would become a really good surfer after surfing out here; and at the time he said those words, I excitedly believed him – genuinely stoked to improve my surfing skills on some of the best surf breaks in the world.

But now, although I understand that such skills will come, if ever, only through practice and learning from failure, I hate being in these beginning stages of this process. And, quite frankly, at this point I’m also having doubts that any improved surfing skills will ever come.

Which leaves me with another ultimate question:

What’s the point of being an ex-lawyer turned “surf-bum” when you can’t even surf?

Really, without that very important qualification, I’m just a bum.

UPDATE: I've been getting questions from Slouch Monkey and others as to why I picked the Timur area as my next destination. Actually, I was supposed to meet a friend up in the Mentaiwi Islands (off of Sumatra) this week, but I backed out because the area has gotten just so ungodly crowed with the expansion and opening of several new airports in Sumatra and the Mentaiwis.

On the other hand, after doing a LOT of online research, I learned that Timur has apparently not seen that same increase in surf tourism over the past couple years, given that some people are concerned about the conditions in neighboring East Timur. Indeed, Timur, Rote and Sumba are known for having fairly uncrowded surfing spots and some amazing untapped surf potential. So, in other words, although I would have loved to hit the Mentaiwi's, Sumatra, and Nias, I'm trying to avoid the immense crowds and proceed in the original spirit of this journey — the discovery of unspoiled surf spots.

As for the conditions in Timur (Indonesia) itself, to be honest, although I've heard it's the same as most other "tourist" parts of Indo, I'm not exactly sure what it's like there right now. I've read from several online sources (much like this one, I suppose), that things are fine in the Western areas — where I'm heading. But I would assume it's much like the situation in the Dominican Republic, where Haiti is/has been going through essentially the same thing as East Timur, and both islands are essentially "cut" down the middle.

From what I've heard, the border has been closing and opening intermittently based on the number of refugees attempting to cross and the amount of violence in and around Dili (E. Timur capital), where many Aussies used to go for a "visa run" (to leave the country so they can re-up their 90 day Indo visitor visa).

I had planned on trying to go to East Timur for at least a couple days just to "look around." However, given the deteriorating situation there, that may not be an option for me (much to my mom's delight). We'll see.

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