Bali--Day 3 (double sesh), 10JUNE2011 FRI

Canggu Round Two:


As mentioned, Randy was disappointed that the swell didn’t hit. The plan in the morning was to come back around noon when the swell would arrive. He was hell bent on surfing this swell. For me, I didn’t have one gripe. We were surfing . . . what was there to worry about?

Given the noon time traffic, there were more motorists on the road. The route was still beautiful, but the sun was balls dripping hot. Fuck that, butthole steaming . . . my anus was melting. Same place, different time, the cows didn’t notice we were gone. We walked over that same black sand hill and took a gander. Well, if my brother was disappointed this morning, he must’ve been beyond that this afternoon. The size dropped off at least a foot, but what was worse was the wind. It was blowing really hard sideshore, but there were still some people out, mostly at River Mouth. We sat under a bale hut on the sand for a good twenty minutes to see what it was going to do. It was a definite opposite from the morning.

A guy showed up with his whole family and stopped to talk to us. He was an Aussie named Tony. We all had a little small talk about the swell, and he and my brother talked about their different surf adventures. He was a really mellow guy, once again supporting the mellow mood of surfers I’ve been talking about.

The swell was hard to read. Pulses showed up at The Burger, but not consistent enough to make us want to surf there. We decided on the southern peak that had about five heads.

We reached for our rash guards and found nothing; we forgot them. In this intense heat, all we had was Vertra face paint. There we were, two brothers, smearing Vertra on each other’s backs. WTF. When we got to the line-up, my brother conversed with another surfer. I thought about the crowded line ups back home, the times I’ve said “good morning” and only received a straight face back.

The potential for that wave was there, but the wind changed it all. The peaks came in, but the wind knocked them down which made the wave faster than it had to be. It turned out to be my worst session here so far. I tried taking off on the shoulder, but the breaking peak had so much momentum that I’d get slung into the face too fast. Randy said to take the peak. I tried, and it was still pretty fast. This was a serious reality check. Before leaving to Bali, I expressed my nervousness and wondering if I was ready. A comment I told my friends was, “Not everyone who goes to Bali rips, right?” I don’t want to say I was completely wrong, but since being here, I’ve only seen one guy that was barnier than I. The surfers are mostly Aussies, and the rest of the majority from Europe. Randy said he’s met some Brazilians out here too. What I’m saying is, I was eating the most shit out of everybody out there.

My worst wave so far was during this session. I had a remarkable wipe out. It was a right which jacked up as I paddled into it. I thought I had a chance to pop up but was pitched then sucked under into the foamy explosion. I went straight down feet first, so fast that my camera in my right pocket pulled my shorts up and left my ass cheek and right testicle exposed. I was certain that my camera did not survive this, for it is waterproof, but not shock proof. I resurfaced, pulled out my half G-string, put the mouse back into the house, and went back to the line-up. It was a bit embarrassing. I overheard the word “wipeout” being mumbled between a couple Aussies. Yeah, that was me all right. . . .

The conditions continued to get worse. There was a lot of backwash which made the water more choppy, the current kept sucking south, and the waves became harder to read. On one of my last waves I actually popped up on a fast right. Triumphant, I looked down the line, but I saw some fuckin’ guy slipping and sliding all over his board paddling out. This is the Barney I was talking about. I jumped ship to avoid a collision, resurfaced, and we were face to face. No need to get upset, I thought. I got aggro for a second, but I don’t want bad karma on this trip. I was in someone’s way this morning, and he didn’t yell at me. It’s just something that happens as a surfer. Surf on.

The session was more than frustrating. My brother ripped the whole time. My waves weren’t even worth mentioning. We looked down Burger Peak and saw that it got more consistent and the shape was better. Oh well. So I got worked, but I walked away unscathed and unharmed. I still took the positive away from the experience. Conclusion: I must surf harder and get better.

A surfer still gets some spray going left.

Later at night we took a cruise along the Seminyak coast. He showed me the expensive beach resort area where all the bule (foreigners) stay. It was cleaner, and tourists were scattered all along the shore. The local break was before us, and it was closing out like El Porto. He told me that it gets crowded here because all the hotels are near, but good surf is barely fifteen minutes away. I have 27 more days to get some of that good surf, and I hope to capitalize on it.