When someone says “Guam Bomb” they’re probably referring to a barely driveable, imported car common to the island — not the surf or military arsenal, although there’s plenty of both on the island.
The small island in the middle of the Pacific—one-third the way between Australia and Hawaii—is dense with forest, jungle, and muddy mountains. Wild pigs, chickens, and street dogs roam about. The coast glistens with azure Pacific water that crashes onto shallow reef breaks. At times there’s large and shapely surf.
Some spots like Boat Basin—a hollow left and right—can get epic during typhoon season. But choose your spot wisely. The local paper issues the following warning…
“Pay attention to surfing etiquette before attempting to surf in Guam. There has been a number of incidents where non-locals were harassed or even threatened by regulars at the limited number of surfing sites.”
There’s a history behind the vibes. Guam is a US territory. There’s a large US military presence—a Naval Base and an Airforce Base—on the island. Back in 1944 the US Marines, among other forces, liberated the locals—known as the Chamorros—from an oppressive, Imperial Japanese rule.
US colonization of Guam brought modernization. Out with the old—a predominantly agricultural life—and in with the new—wage work. With the development came new jobs, less land, and new foods, like Spam.
As with anything there’s mixed views. Some locals embrace modernization. On the other hand—with thousands of American service members on the island—some feel overrun.
But there’s room to explore.
On a fishing trip out of the mouth of the outer Apra Harbor—where deep water meets reef—I frothed at the booming double-overhead rights peeling into the channel. You’ll want to target typhoon season (June to December) to see this kind of action because waves aren’t always the norm.
Which is fine. If you get skunked, Guam is a beautiful place, filled with waterfall hikes and a Denny’s that serves breakfast beers. Strip-joints and bars mean things get a little more bacchanalian after dark. The locals, known as the Chamorros, are happy to point you around town.
During a Friday The 13th tattoo session (copped a Fosters beer cap on the hand) the artist pointed us in the direction of a secluded spearfishing spot. You park on the beach, kick out past the cliffs, and start shootin’. No need for a license in Guam. And the fish are plentiful.
Another local temptation is the betel nut. Sold at most corner stores, the psychoactive nut is taken with a dash of lime powder for a buzz. Mind you, it’ll stain your teeth devil red and overuse increases the risk of oral cancer.
A drive around the island is a pleasant undertaking; you can even tune into the local radio station, which tends to play the same 20 pop songs on loop.
And if all that gets too repetitive you can wait for a swell and hop on United Airlines flight to P-Pass in nearby Micronesia. In 2-and-a-half hours you’ll be paddling out at one of the best waves in the world.
