A Barney in Bali--Day 15, 22JUNE2011 WED

Family Time:

Jessica and baby Jaya ready for the day's beach adventure.

    Randy arranges for our driver to pick us up at 0700. I have a hard time waking up, so I sleep in until 0600. It’s nice to take a break form the bikes. I pack more than usual: towel, dry clothes, money, both cameras, and my travel journal. The driver’s car is more like a small bus; it’s such a roomy luxury.

We stop at Dunkin’ Donuts to grab some breakfast “take away.” I get a double chocolate, peanut butter donut and the breakfast special, barely $2.00. The workers must be used to packaging take away orders for people on bikes because they put all of our food and drinks in paper bags and tape them shut. I’m a bit perturbed at this. Even my coffee is in a bag that’s taped shut, but coffee is spilling out of it, and all the paper bags and napkins get soaked.

     Since all the packages are breaking, I’m forced to eat my food on the spot. I reach for the coffee; the lid is taped on. Jesus H, I think to myself. Fucking unnecessary. Our driver is a master at maneuvering through the onslaught of motorbikes. While he effortlessly wedges in between the gauntlet of vehicles, I try to pour sugar in my coffee. There are so many near misses. He almost runs over a lady at the intersection, and he’s inches away from anything that’s in front of us. I don’t say anything, but my eyes become so wide that they defeat Asian specifications. In the meanwhile, I enjoy my donut. The dough is more bread-like instead of complete sugar.


Balangan RD #3:
 

    We’re back at this beautiful place. We go back to Froggy’s to secure some beach chairs under an umbrella. Randy changes, butt naked, in the middle of the warung. Froggy flags him down and tells him to change in the dressing room. It’s disgusting; I’m scarred for life.



 

     Jessica and Jaya relax on the beach while Randy’s the first to walk the reef. I follow after five minutes; I still feel food in my stomach.

My "bracing" face, bracing to get my ass kicked.

Difficult for a Bali Barney. It's really shallow here, and the waves pounding over the reef are not gentle.

     I’m walking over soft rocks. This is nothing. I’m in thigh deep water, but it gets shallow again. Just my luck, as soon as I reach the middle of the reef bed, a set comes in. It’s still shallow, and I don’t want to damage my board again, but I’m in position to get pummeled. It takes forever. I’m knocked down and pushed back. I even attempt to leap over the foam with my board in hand. I dig my feet in for grip and feel nothing but jagged rock. I start to paddle but know it’s still too shallow. As I stand to brace the next wave, my knee hit’s a rock. Finally, the lull arrives.

    Mostly everyone is at the top of the wave, and some people sit at the bottom. The cuts on my fingers begin to sting from the salt water. Today is a little bigger on the sets, smaller in between, but there are more outside clean-up sets. The rides are longer; surfers get rides from the top of the wave all the way to the channel. There’s a barrel section on the inside, but only a few risk it because of the reef.

If you take the barrel section at low tide, there is little margin for error. Do not fall.

    I feel undergunned on my JS. There’s a lot of water moving around, and I feel sluggish when paddling. I’m scratching out for waves that I was getting yesterday on Elijah’s board. Randy gets a long ride to the inside just as an outside set approaches. In these situations, you usually know if you’re fucked or not, but regardless, you have to paddle towards the outside. El Porto is no comparison, but I remember big days in the South Bay where the inside is a war zone, but I always had a sense of security once on the outside.

Tic-tac-toe, three in a row.

    I’m well into my first hour without a wave to claim for myself. Today doesn’t seem as easy as yesterday, and I’m getting desperate. I have a hunch to dart for the outside when I see a wave, and I’m right. I pass up the second wave of the set. The last wave builds on the outside, I’m too deep, so I race towards the shoulder. I need a late take off, and I know it. Desperation makes you do silly things. Kicking and paddling doesn’t feel so effective today, but I manage to get the slide.

Three feet, Randy scale.

     The wind is still offshore with minimal texture. My wave is big, smooth, with light ripples. It doesn’t go hollow, but the shoulder holds. I’m pumping the whole time while the bottom of my board repeatedly smacks the wave. Now I’m nearing the body boarders at the second point and hear a couple hoots. The building section lifts them suddenly, one by one, out of my way. I’m amazed at the long ride as I exit the wave, cool as a cucumber.

    I’m by the Aussie chick from yesterday, and we both see the clean up set in the distance. We give each other that “hear we go again” look. I get washed around, but not as bad as her. Paddling back to my spot, A Balinese guy I don’t even know has both arms raised throwing me double shakas, a kind gesture.

    Now it’s crowded. Randy’s amongst a crowd of bobbing surfers. The second point crowd disperses, as both breaks are scattered with people. I probably go another hour without a wave. I scratch or miss the outside sets completely. On one set, I tire myself from scratching out on the first two waves; I’m too winded for the third.

    I strategically wait for the next outside set, but it never comes. I keep holding out, thinking that the wait is worth while. I finally lose patience and paddle towards the inside. Where did everybody go? I glance back and my jaw drops; it’s the outside set I’ve been fucking waiting for. I’m in disbelief. I see a dozen guys’s asses leaving in a hurry to beat the wave. As the lip comes crashing down, I’m trying to go under it. Somehow, in the turmoil, my board ends up under my right arm like I’m holding a purse, but instead of going for a Sunday stroll at the mall, I’m falling backwards with pounds of water engulfing me. After the beatings, I barely punch through the fourth wave I take on the head.

    At the line up, Randy tells me that he’s gonna catch one more and paddle in. I’m looking for my last one as well. There’s more scratching out, and more missing sets. Just when I think my luck’s run out, I’m in position for another set wave, and it’s all to myself. Since the lineup is still foamy from earlier waves, this wave’s appearance is different. Instead of a blue wall, it has that white marble quality. I’m right where the lip should be breaking, but it barely does. It’s actually a big, slow rolling, shouldery wave. I keep expecting the section to build and run, but it doesn’t; it holds. It’s similar to my first wave of the day. I stop short of the channel to avoid running a couple guys over. My turns suck going front side, but if I’m on a left that is “big,” I’d rather concentrate on making the section and not falling.

Booboo of the day

    The session ends the way every surfer loves; with a good, long ride. I couldn’t ask for anything more. No, this morning wasn’t a wave orgy, but all it took was a couple good waves to make the session. I’ve never surfed a spot with nothing but lefts before, big long lefts.



  

   
     Back at the sand, I order the Froggy club sandwich with a side order of fries. No naps, just writing and watching. There's a good balance in the atmosphere. Randy and Jessica play with baby Jaya under the shade of an umbrella. Surfers, families, and even the locals come out to enjoy this paradise called Balangan.