The Labuan Sait Valley on Bali has a water course that carves through the Bukit Peninsula’s antediluvian limestone and into the waters of Padang Padang. These waters form her perfect reefs as the fresh water erodes the sea coral into an elliptic curve with a deep channel in between. But these waters have also carried the detritus and the echoes of the valley’s battering real estate development for decades. But never has it been quite like this. With its scraping and hacking and detonations of an army of earth moving machines gouging away at a hundred different construction sites. Giant cement trucks move in herds along the winding shop and bar lined streets like lumbering pachyderms, tray trucks lined with dusty Javanese workers following like minnows in their wake. And you actually get used to the dull thuds of the backhoes and the graders and the bulldozers that come up through your pillow as you grab at the last bliss of your morning’s sleep. Construction on those new pickleball courts start when the roosters crow in these waters.
As you sit at a picnic bench under a sun umbrella on the second story veranda of the White Monkey Surf Motel, you can look out onto this panorama of destruction, not so much seeing it as hearing it. The sounds like an approaching jungle guerrilla war. And yet, somehow, unbelievably, the psychedelic spiritual vibe and the waves that have brought so many of us here since the 1970’s remains intact. You listen to the hammering and you think on it and you figure out at least two of the reasons for this. One is ownership. The Balinese don’t sell their land. They lease it. As a visiting land buyer of a dream villa the best you can hope for is the dream on borrowed time and the Balinese know it. That is why this Island has never fallen into foreign hands, even though Bali has never had its own military. Because patience isn’t a virtue here, it’s a strategy. And reason number two, the Balinese Hindu faith. Reinforced every minute of every day, not just once a week on Sundays. With its pervasive temples that pepper the island a constant reminder of the core of that belief. Tri Hita Karana. Their Holy trinity. Love of the people around you, love of the environment around you and the love of the Gods around you. Their ‘three causes of well being’.
Now surely you understand where surfing still comes into this. Surely you see it. We surfers were the alpha and we will be the omega of the beach colonists. It’s that simple. Get that through your head and you can relax and enjoy Bali’s changing landscape, go get your waves in spiritual peace. Of course these days you’re going to have to share them with a clamoring multitude, but that’s progress man, unstoppable as the tide. And it’s been going on seemingly forever. That and the new cement promenade the government has left unfinished that scars the beach in all its sandy glory from the top of Kuta to the end of Seminyak.
But then again, maybe this progress will stop itself. Maybe the overcrowding and over development will meet its own critical mass. Only so many goldfish can be plunked into an aquarium before they all go belly up. Take Canggu, now as clogged as an ants nest and completely truncated from the rest of the island by a seismic upheaval of traffic.The old pave paradise and put up a parking lot syndrome. There’s even a water taxi now that you can take to avoid the ludicrous traffic that will dump you off at Padang Padang whenever you need to flee Echo Beach. But still, like Uluwatu, Canggu retains its inherent charms. Otherwise, who are all these people still cramming in there in droves? It can’t just all be the rude, draft dodging children of the Russian oligarchs. No, the reason for all these people jumping on Canggu’s cool blue train is as simple as it has ever been. Its the waves. It’s us. Surfers. And the culture of perceived and attainable freedom we create and maintain all over Indonesia. And that is how it will remain until we decide we have had enough of the bedlam and we jump hosts. It’s our way.
In other thoughts, the east side of Bali has been its dependable self during the monsoon season. Capitalizing on a series of smaller but well directed swells. Ultra dependable Keramas has maintained its title as the queen of the eastside. Eagerly awaiting the return of Indonesia’s crown prince Rio Waida. Formidable tears of joy have been shed, of course, at the news that beloved Rio will be once again representing Indonesia in the upcoming Olympics. Also at the news that he has gained sponsorship from the Indonesian government and that his new contract with Sharpeye includes a piece of any of the profits they make in Indonesia. “We want to make his deal meaningful and profitable for him,” said Team Manager Fridoun Chee, “I don’t think that has ever been done In Indonesia. It’s an important breakthrough and we are looking forward to it’s success. It’s a belief in a surfer and a community and trust in what it’s capable of”. At this rate it won’t be long until Rio has a statue at the airport, and in all seriousness, wouldn’t that be a good thing after all the money that has spilled out of surfers pockets onto the streets of this island?.
The Mentawai has seen its changes too, with more charters and surf camps then ever. That and the discovery of the Mentawai’s best kept secret – December. But her truth remains in her absolutely perfectly refined waves. The finest on the globe. Bar none. A recent shoulder season trip to the Kandui Resort with Matt Biolos and the White Monkey Surf Shop crew revealed weeks of empty medium sized surf in the northern reaches (Although a rare massive plague of stinging jellyfish sent more than one surfer to shore in search of vinegar). Still, in a fine showing of the power of youth, 14-year-old wunderkind and Mentawai local Dylan Wilcoxen was seen growing in strength and power in his birthright waves, quite literally surfing circles around any doubters in the vicinity. The obvious next Indonesian superstar, if not the world’s. He’s that good. With the spontaneity of Bruce and the imagination of Andy this young man is going places. It’s finally happening, Indonesian surfers girding for the world stage. Great thanks must be given to the tireless efforts of Tim Hain and Tipi Jabrik of the ASC. Indonesian fruit of their longtime surf contest organising is beginning to bear on the world stage. And their now exists a legion of youngsters with stars in their eyes and custom Mayhems under their arms following in Rio’s footsteps.
Over on Java, the longboard genius’s of Batu Karas have been having a heyday season. But that region, with rumors of new, kinder, gentler surf discoveries coming in everyday, has been earmarked for massive Bali-like development, complete with a burgeoning expat community. With investors pouring in, another quiet fishing village will boom as the direct influence of the liquid gold that breaks against its shores. Canggu, Bali, Batu Karas, all simultaneously benefiting and suffering from the dreamy lifestyle we surfers project once again.
Now Nias is still there and pumping day after day. But you gotta want it. It’s not easy to get there and tough to deal with the locals when you do. Apparently a groovy longboard scene has arisen on the smaller days though. It’s not all boat crushing death tubes. No news yet as to whether the Nias longknife locals will be giving the maestro’s of Batu Karas a run for their money. Where on earth did Indonesians pick up such classic, vintage Malibu style? It can’t all be from instagram. Or can it?
And so the heartbeat of Indonesia, fueled by its hyperventilating waves, hammers on as it always has. Durable, understanding and, whether you believe it or not, loving. As exotic as the surroundings are here, the fate of Indonesia’s continued surf success is just like anywhere else in today’s crazy world. It’s all dependent on the collective community vibe. And as steeped in tourism as the Indonesian surfing scene has always been, it’s that underlying, damn near unexplainable community frequency that allows it to exist in all its forms and fractions. And that’s the thing right there. That frequency. That surfing frequency. No matter where you’re from, Indonesian surfing is any surfer’s community the second they step off that plane. And it will always remain here to tune into for those smart enough turn the dial in the right direction. Surfing. Indonesia. Frequencies.
Stay tuned.
