A Barney in Bali--Day 3, 10JUNE2011

     First, my apologies. My blogs are late because of the modem internet in Bali. Wifi is a hassle, and I spend more time trying to upload pictures than actually writing. My memory fleets me a little. Due to the current surf conditions, I hope to catch up and get back on track.

Black sand hill, beach on other side.

The Second Session: Canggu (pronounced: chang-goo)

Nusa Dua was not a debacle. The sight alone and feeling of being on that wave filled me with many surf sensations that I’ve never felt before. Just for the record, that session was priceless.

Day 3, Daz was not joining us. The swell prediction was eight feet for that day. Daz chose to gamble on a different island called Lombok. I can’t recall if it was for swell and wind direction, but Randy said that “The Gu” was the best bet. A little bit of back-info on Canggu: recently Taj, Parko, and some other pros were spotted there. Wherever there are pros, there are cameras. Canggu also hosts surf competitions.

Sunrise at Canggu. Volcano on the left.

I killed off a small piece of raisin bread, we had our morning tea, and we were off. I didn’t know what to expect, but I did know one thing: beach break is safer than pokey reef. After all, except for some of the round cobble stones in Socal, I mostly surf beach break. I thought this would be a good opportunity to push the envelope a little, since the wipeouts wouldn’t be as gnarly as Nusa Dua.

Bale hut

Considered a small day to paddle out by local standards. This is the southern peak.

We rode in a completely different direction from yesterday. This time we stayed away from the main highway and took roads through the villages. My brother once told me that the reason he loves Bali so much compared to Hawaii is that, despite all the tourism, you can always drive a couple miles and be back in the village country side. Well, he was right. There is this one stretch of road on the way, it opens up with nothing but banana trees, palm trees, and rice fields on each side. The road was narrow but empty. The sun was still behind the volcanic horizon, truly majestic.

Randy said, “Remember how I told you I was sold on Bali when I took a drive through the rice fields?”

“Yeah.”

“This is that drive.”

Though rough, bumpy, and full of pot holes, I understood what he meant. He says that the whole island is rigged this way. One can grab a moped and explore the whole island. I could only imagine the roads and places I haven’t seen yet.


Our destination was marked by a small, grassy plain where cattle grazed. They are used to human contact and didn’t budge at our arrival. We parked at the foothill of the black sand beach. When we walked over, I saw glassy, clean, beach break. There are three main peaks: one southern most peak, the famous “River Mouth” in the middle, and Burger Peak (Randy and Daz named it) to the north. The southern peak was a perfect A-frame. About five camera men already lined up the shore as a couple guys were launching airs. River Mouth was the most crowded. Not as peaky, but bigger, and the rides longer. I was stoked at the sight, and of course . . . Randy was disappointed that the swell forecast was off. It was supposed to be eight feet. I think eight feet would kick my ass right now. In the South Bay, eight feet raises a stir within the local surf community. In Bali, it’s expected. He apologized for the conditions again, but I reminded him that I El Porto. So it wasn’t eight feet? Who cares? It was about four feet, close to head high on the plus sets.

The top two pics are peaks further down south not even considered the main part of Canggu. How would you like this as your "throw away" break?

Randy finds a turtle, gives it to the sea.

We changed parking locations and walked to The Burger. Note: It’s called Burger Peak only because it’s smaller compared to River Mouth; it actually barrels on a good swell. There were six heads at the peak, crowded to Randy’s standards. It was in fact one peak, so it did have to be shared. There were no peaks in between, just the three. We were about to paddle out, but Randy said he might have to take a shit, so I left without him. Aussies. They’re everywhere, but some guys in the line-up were speaking French too. Randy struck up a conversation with one of them. Surprisingly, there was no bad edge to the surfers in the water. Everyone was cool. Randy’s advice was to smile in the line up. I do, I get nods and smiles back. Some didn’t acknowledge, but there was nothing aggro about the place at all.


With the crowd factor, I didn’t expect to get many waves; I don’t do well in crowds. There was a slight rip current which actually helped because it placed people out of position without them knowing. Randy filled me in on where to sit, and we constantly paddled to maintain position. The lefts were breaking better this day. Randy called me into a wave. His presence kept others off of it. There’s something about a long-haired, cut-up, dark islander that spells “ripper.” I popped up and pumped down the line. It was long and I took it towards the inside--mistake. I looked down and saw that I was surfing over brown rocks. Son of a bitch, I thought. I used Daz’s “starfish” technique when I dismounted, careful not to scrape the bottom. I returned and thanked Randy for the ride.

Surprisingly, I got more than one or two waves. Even though there were a lot of people for one peak, I found myself in the prime position, even without Randy’s blocking. My wave of the day was another left, this one was close to head high and fast. It felt like it might have been a little hollow, but I learned my lesson from Nusa Dua, and I was worried about the rocks. I saw two guys paddling over the building wave in the distance, one was Randy. I had a lot of speed and stayed just in front of the critical part of the wave. I attempted some cut backs. I didn’t pull off the whole movement, but my entry was smooth and graceful. I crouched down low to keep a low center of gravity and started a wide, arching turn. My problem was my reentry back into the wave. Instead of a smooth transition to redirect my board, I kept getting stuck with my nose down, so my redirection was SLOPPY. Either way, it was a fast wave that I kept up with, and those arching turns felt fast and gouging.
 

Small day, but someone is getting a partial cover-up.


Once the tide started to go out, it was time to leave, as The Burger was starting to shut down. It was a great “breaking in” session. We walked back to the Yamaha and were almost completely dried by the sun when we got there. The southern peak was going off still. It was A-framing so well, but there were so many people there.

We stopped off to get some petro for the bike and took the same scenic route back. We were greeted by Randy’s maid Christine. Lunch was ready.