A Barney in Bali--Day 10, 17JUNE2011 FRI

Sunrise on the Canggu Stretch

Getting What You Ask for Doesn’t Always Work Out:

    Last night there was more surf mentoring over dinner, but Randy told me the things that I’ve already been epiphanizing the last couple days: I suck.

    Now that it’s a new day I’d like to think that my pussy doesn’t hurt as much. It’s 0500 and Randy’s not up yet. I take my time warming up, and when I’m done he’s in mid routine.

    “Damn, I woke up late,” he says.

    He starts the morning tea as we read the wind, swell, and tide forecasts. The swell is up today. In fact . . . the swell forecasts are incredible compared to back home. The numbers during the week are anywhere between eight and thirteen feet. Next week is supposed to be eighteen feet. I’m such an idiot that the common practice of downplaying wave size has me confused too, so I just follow the “Bali Scale.” It’s three to four feet. I suppose when I’m involuntarily shitting my pants, it will be safe to call it six feet, but what are the actual wave heights? I hate exaggerating, so I’ll play the game. 

    After losing the Sanur gamble yesterday, the options are Canggu or Tugu. Randy says that Tugu is more of a gradual wave. He gives me this option because of today’s swell. Basically, Canggu may be too big for me to handle. Being tired of surfing the same spot, I suggest Tugu.

    As we arrive, we first look at The Gu. It’s big enough to clear The Burger; it’s closing out and not holding shape, while he river mouth still holds. The sand bar works, but it’s fast.

    “Okay,” says Randy. “This is the deal. If we surf here, it’s gonna have to be the river mouth. Sand Bar may be a little too difficult for you.”

    I watch Rivers and note the crowd there. The inside looks a little brutal. My concern is eating shit, which is a guarantee for me, and then being in the way of a dozen Aussies pumping down the line. It’s consistent, big, and crowded, which is not appealing. I decide on Tugu for my sake.

    We pull up and see the two different peaks which gives the option of rights and lefts, but the paddle is way out there. The wave is big, but slopey and gradual. It’s more of a long boarder spot, and the energy here is different. More chicks are surfing here and more older guys.

    “Is this even challenging for you?” says Randy.

    “Well, I just want to surf something different and surf some fun waves.”

    “All right, as long as you’re having fun, that’s all that matters.”

    His board isn’t made for the mooshy waves, so he says he’ll surf the inside. I tell him to just surf the river mouth, but he wants to be close by.

    The paddle out takes a long time. The set waves break far on the outside, but duckdiving white wash from mooshy waves is a cinch. For the first time since being here, I feel comfortable in the impact zone.

    When I get to the line up I try to figure out where to sit. I try to triangulate and see if I’m too far in or out. It’s hard to gauge because people are sitting everywhere. I catch a small left, pop up late, and kick out before it closes out--not a good wave choice. Now the sets arrive in the distance. I’m too far on the inside, so I have to paddle and beat it. I catch what looks like a good right, but the wave is really boggy. I’m on the wave, but there’s no power on it. I’m right where the power should be, but I’m moving with the ferocity of a shopping cart being pushed by an elderly woman at the grocery store.

    I’m out there for two hours, so I’ll sum up the mediocre session with the memories that stand out. The chick that was charging The Burg a couple days ago is out there. We talk a little about Canggu being closed out. There are local surf instructors in the water trying to push some tourists into waves; it’s not working. The water’s so glassy, which is odd for the mid morning. The sets start to get bigger and break further outside. Everyone scrambles to beat them, and the long boarders have the best advantage by catching them early.

    My best wave of the session is a left. It’s the left I’ve been waiting all morning for, one I can catch all the way to the channel where Randy is. I get it right at the peak, have a fast drop, bottom turn, draw a high line, and there’s a fucking, tattooed, long haired, Balinese guy that drops in on my. I’m just about to set myself up for some momentum off of the lip. I let out a “Whoaaaaa!” and have no choice but to do a self induced wipeout. I resurface, and he’s right there. No apologies, this is their turf.

    I catch a clean right hander, but an Aussie paddled into it behind the peak, makes the section, and is right behind me. I’m forced to kick out. I eat shit on another wave. On my paddle back, the waves are getting even bigger, and breaking even farther out than before. Everyone is stretched out. A couple chicks paddling next to me are struggling more than I am, which (I hate to say it) gives me some relief for my own abilities. I’m getting tired, and my duckdives aren’t as clean, I’m getting washed around a little.

    I still don’t have an epic wave to claim for myself, but it is nice to surf without getting my ass kicked. I’m in position for an outside set, and the Balinese surf instructor actually pushes his student into a wave; it’s mooshy, but, easily head high. It was a hell of a wave to catch for a first surf lesson; there’s no way he can’t be sold. I’m in position again, and another instructor pushes a female student into the wave. She’s slow at getting up, shaky, but she stands, and it’s a very, very long ride to the channel.

    I’m bordering on my second hour, and I want to get back to the bike. I scratch out on a lot of waves. Yes, it’s an easy session, but my brother is right. It’s too easy. Or I should say, so mooshy that it’s hard to paddle into--big and mooshy. I catch another right that’s a bogger. It mooshes out towards the inside, and I paddle the rest of the way in.

    I see Randy in the distance. He’s dry, his board is packed, and he starts up the bike. He’s probably been there for a while.

    “How long have you been here?” I ask.

    “Oh . . . forty-five minutes. Did you have fun?”

    “Oh, it was all right.”

    I feel guilty. I know he would’ve had more fun at Rivers, but . . . I wouldn’t have caught anything with the crowd there. I think it was still good to clear my mind and surf in a calmer atmosphere. Now I’ll look forward to more of a challenge after this morning.

    “The wind just turned on shore,” he says.

    I don’t comprehend at first. “Ohhhhh, so now it’s offshore on the other side.”

View from the Tugu line-up

To Be Continued: