Uluwatu to Padang swim

Padang was a friggin long walk in those days Herc. It was the first place I surfed in Bali! Got a ride on the back of a motor bike and walked in from the main road. Six foot, three guys in the water. We used to sleep in the boat shed between sessions to get out of the sun but I never spent the night there. Great times!

Yeh blinder, its seems like just being nostalgic, but our era was so lucky surf wise. Yeh, that Padang walk was a mission. So was getting back on the bike, compared to now. I remember the villagers from Ulu's heading off to Denpasar, on foot, to get supplies. You could stay out there in the huts on the point (there were only a couple), for free, and just give Wayan money for food, help, etc. As you no doubt know, if you stayed there you would get tons of empty surfs. And the people were so, so cruisey. Even the little village at that now bitumen slab carpark was cruisey, the fisherman would love it if you bought a fish, some eggs, and they cooked it for you. They showed me the right. Sometimes in the right swell, no wind dawnies were insane out there. There's still places like that.

Herc, the best Outside Corner I ever had I surfed by myself. Everyone else was burnt out from the Padang sessions in the morning. I slept through the second session, walked back up to Ulu and had two hours of 10ft OC. And yeh, it's still there to do if you want to put yourself out there. Me? I'm probably too used to ease and comfort these days.

Epic blinder. Those type of things are priceless... money wise. There is always a cost though. I payed a lot to surf over the years. To put it before anything. Tons really. It makes you wonder sometimes.

Herc and Blindboy, I reckon there's two types of travelling surfers who go to Indo. Wartel folks and those who haven't got a farken clue what a wartel is. You guys are definitely Wartel folks. Respect.

Even now. Off I go, to do a workout. Because its part of the 'plan'. That 'plan'. The light, the tunnel. At least I'll have the gym to myself. 4 weeks to go. I'll be ready to be flogged. Again. For weeks. I'll feel like a surfer just when I have to come back. But, the light is closer every time. And, my body won't fail me. Keep swimming, not too many more laps. It has to hang in, for the 'plan'. Well, that's the plan.

Bingo goofy foot. When calling home meant risking a fast death via heat stroke or a slow death via lung cancer delivered by second hand Kretek smoke.

Awesome stories in this thread. Keep them coming. Shame to think that so many epic surf tales probably have & will go untold.....

Herc ,
that tale about emus was a beauty ,
Visions of Waimea bay .
Agree that the rip current is the most extreme rip ever to be surfed.

yep , took from early morning till dark! A very interesting day , as I sorta remember surfing all these small lefts , could have been padang , and all those other breaks down the point , but the omelette affect , just kept me going left , until I got to the airport rights , damn those Poppies omelettes hahaha!!

Thanks for the stories gents. I have absolutely nothing that compares. I took up surfing at 30, which was a good idea in one sense because you are closer to the age where you start to realise you aren't bullet proof.

I'm only just getting out of a foetal ball to type this, having read your accounts.

The stories that particularly freak me out are the late evening ones. I just can't fathom it. The light falls quickly in the tropics, so you can go from sunset to dark in pretty quick time. Add a slight myopia to that and your depth perception fails as the light recedes. You see the waves coming but can't tell how far away they are, and I don't know how long I could keep my cool in those conditions, and I know enough that keeping your cool is the only thing that will keep you alive.

Met a couple of cool older dudes from Avoca (one in his 40's and decently fit and the other mid 50s, around my age, but solid as and fit as) last trip to Bali in May. They were telling me a few frightful stories of a right somewhere around from ulus, might be the one that Herc is talking about, emus sounds familiar. Their stories of being caught between huge sets on one side and raging rips on the other, of trying to swim in and getting nowhere, losing their boards to snapped leggies, swims that just took them in circles, and just as they were ready to give up, literally, and go under and say their goodbyes, their boards appearing nearby brought in on the rip, and eventually making it in somehow as light fell.

For some strange reason, that scares the shit out of me. So call me a wuss.

I think there should be special name for that emotion you feel when that realisation strikes that you are really swimming for your life in the ocean in the dark.

Not a big swim story though it was pretty bloody close...

A few years back I was travelling around Tahiti with my wife and we stayed for a week on the west coast of Moorea. The main wave there, Ha'apiti, was just down the road and a kilometre out to sea - no short paddle like you get in Indo.

All week I was surfing by myself, I never saw another surfer, so I had to trust my instinct and not be reckless. One morning in particular the antennae were twitching as I crossed the lagoon and saw the surf was far bigger than previous days. I sat up to watch it in the half light while still a few hundred metres from the whitewash, yet despite the distance I noticed I was getting sucked towards the reef pass.

Ha'apiti is pretty much the only reef pass on that coast, so all the whitewater pushing over the reef on that whole coastline rushes towards the one lone exit. I knew what was going on and was alert to it so I simply sat on my board as the outgoing current sped up.

I was still too far from the surf to gauge the size but figured it was around 8-10ft-ish, and it looked bloody good. Contingent to the allure of big, perfect waves was the fact that once you went out through the channel there was no getting back in. The water was moving that fast that standing waves and whirlpools and all sorts of carry on were happening in the channel. The only way to return was to ride a wave.

With a heady mix of anxiety and anticipation I decided to go for it and put myself in the centre of the current. However, it wasn't long before I realised that without anything to gauge the size of the waves I'd made a big mistake. I'd seriously underestimated the size of the waves breaking on the reef; they were far bigger, perhaps twice as big as what I'd expected. I had to get out of there quickly or I'd be stuck beyond the reef line with 20ft of Southern Ocean swell roaring up the coast.

I paddled as hard as I could to my left, into the impact zone. Effectively it was the end of the wave but it was still bloody big and I hung on tight as the first whitewater hit me. I was bounced and thrown but there was no way in hell I was gonna let go of my board - a snapped legrope at that point would be disastrous. Being outside the reef with your board is one thing, being out there without your board is quite another.

The wave petered out before long and immediately I began getting sucked back towards the channel again. The volume of water moving out was simply too great, I had to get as far away from the reef pass as possible. Over the course of the next few waves I angled away from the channel while I was in the whitewash then paddled hard when it eased, till eventually I could paddle against the current. No resting though, it was a kilometre back to shore and the current was slow but unrelenting.

A year or so after this experience I chatted to Jim Banks who had the same thing happen to him except he was in a canoe checking the wave. Jim said he had to paddle like hell for an hour to break free of the current. Like me, he would've been sucked out the pass and out beyond the reef.

Later that arvo I sat on the jetty in front of our homestay watching the sunset as 15-20ft waves peeled at speed along the outside reef. The waves came into view down at the pass and for a minute or so they zippered across our field of vision till they disappeared far, far off in the distance to the northwest. Incredible to mindsurf, but that's as close I'd ever wanna be.

Bloody hell

Andrew Kidman's account of surfing the far west Victorian coast with Wayne Lynch as published years ago in the now defunct Australian Surfers Journal is worthy of a mention.

Some grand tales and gripping stuff...even some Russell Coight's All Aussie Fishing Adventures meets "The Old Man & the Sea" chucked in for good measure.

I can't contribute too much - a few snapped boards on outer reefs - but what I can add into the discussion mix is injury. Specifically, the dislocated shoulder.

Apart from the very first time this happened to me at sea - at a very solid NW wave - I have been extremely lucky it's only occurred in more reasonably sized surf, and that I wasn't alone. I call it "being lucky in my unluckiness".

It's happened in four very different spots - in three countries! - and been very fucking painful, but I still had my board and other people with me.

If it happened in some of the other situations I've put myself in, well, who knows?

Actually, this may well be a species of "kiss of death" I'm committing here, but I'm reconciled. I think.

Have you gone for a paddle at that right clam? Its got to be lot of west, which seems to be more common these days, way too big for thinking about the left, or its not big enough to break on the furthest out peak, often enough to line up. Lower the better, not always possible in winter. I've seen the bombie/slab/ledge at the top of the left look pretty rideable in super south, lowish tide, really big swell. At times I surfed the left, and it has almost connected right through to it. That was a long time ago, winter true south swells were the norm, but for quite a while, the swells have regularly had a lot of west in them.

A classic late arvo/dusk swim, boat story, was from the neutron clan. Ab diver Lenny had his super fast cat firing through the strengthening nw, having left his run from down near the hotty a bit late, so was fanging it along the cliffs. Down near locks, Kosy the sheller bounced out of the back, unbeknown to Lenny, who just punched on into the boat ramp, around 20 clicks away. To his horror, no Kosy. Kosy figured he would be back sooner or later, so just kept treading water, in the slop, lucky he actually had his jacket on. Eventually Lenny found him, right on dusk. They were both radical guys, original hard hat, salvage divers. They still had their old suits, and used to tell me amasing stories about springing leaks miles down, playing around with suss looking valves, trying to pump/purge water out of leaking suits. Those things looked like death traps.

Herc,
Great tales. Would that be the Azza - the gaul off the bloke to surf that joint (on the right track?) spoke to yaz the other day. Link to your story of smashed todd? Sounds heavy.

Finally, swellnet lives up to it's subscription hype. So many awesome characters now sharing great experiences. Thanks crew. So stoked to check site and captivated by all your great adventures. Means a lot to me as I sit here waiting nan to take her last breath. Thanks again.

I'll second that pat on the back goofy...great thread with some epic tales!

Gidday Purplepills. Yeh, thats the lad. Stones. He's a classic. For me, its out of Todd and Azza. Todd no 1, but fuck, Azza, so close. And didn't mind giving the Toddster a bit of banter and attitude. But Todd attacked the place. Squared up at bombs and absolutely belted them, hooked into them with everything he had. Bombs. After that wipeout, he caught this thing. That's all you could call it. Dwarfed him. Fucking heavy. So west. Gone behind a massive, revolving, churning foamball. For ages, then the whole thing kept growing opened up huge and spat its guts out. And him. Massive. It went so wide out in the channel he ended up miles away. Best pit he'd ever had he said. But Azza caught a power packed slob that shuddered the whole bay. Todd and I were paddling out, and even Todd was calling no, no, don't, as he put his head down. Insane power. No easy entry. So critical. I thought the reef would crack in half.

Here's the link to Toddster's horrific drilling. Lee, Homer was there with me, ask him about it. Its the first comment.

https://www.swellnet.com/forums/wax/14446

It was a buzz when the newies were there. I loved surfing with them. Really good guys. Say hello to Yazzie for me. Had some good days with him. He can surf hey. Beautiful looking quiver of MR's he had. he was lucky one day, got his legs/ankles stuck in a crack in the reef and got mowed down by a bomb. Pretty hurt. Todd told me about a horror session he had with Yazzie in vic. Homer shredded, the local guys were blown away when he was on, loved watching him. But that left did his head in. Mind you, we didn't help. I remember Daubs, Mouse, all good guys. Fun days, the newie time.

Yeh good claim goofer. Mind you, I liked that Laird thread too.

Really Dave??
All the best mate, I hope she had an epic innings.

Yeh, good on you for being there with her Dave.

Thanks friends. I'm traveling back and forth out to tingha. 92 andym, so time for her to graduate as quality of life now gone. So reading all the amazing surfing experience's gives me a good distraction. Thanks again.

Best wishes, and peace, to you and nan Dave. There'll be waves a plenty for you somewhere down the track, you're right where you need to be right now.

Here's a story along the same lines. Its about a legendary South Australian surfer, a goofy who really ripped. He used to be be a Four Points star. And a top, exotic car mechanic, who ended up in Lincoln. The guy told me the story after we were talking about the ludicrous fiascos, the sad, cruel hallucinations, the debacles that come with owning a kombi . Dr ferdinand's cruel hoax. We were pissing ourselves, and he was rolling around dying, and then trying to tell me the story of when he went to Gland. Those that know him know that he'a straight shooter. When he went, it was extremely early on, and he actually went before any camps, or before many others had, when he caught a whisper of it on the grape vine.

The details mightn't be 100% accurate, but are pretty close. I've read similar things from Lopez, but not quite like this. Its a savage story. He recounted the full on mission of getting there back then, how he organised to get dropped off, left there for around a fortnight, and then how a boat would come back and get him. Stocked up with supplies (inadequate), off he went. The boat left him, and he said there was just one meager tree house. And absolutely no one else around.

A dream come true. However, the ordeal and boat ride had made him sick, and he slept when he first arrived. That night he said he was awake all night, in total terror. He could hear animals moving around, all sorts of noises that he decided were tigers, etc. In the morning the surf was huge, and there were tracks all around the tree house, and on the beach, what he assumed were tiger tracks. So he stayed in the tree house freaking, and got sicker and sicker. The surf kept thundering through, he was too ill to even think about surfing, too terrified to leave the tree house. Monkeys were getting bolder, and aggressive, the whole show was imploding on him. We were pissing ourselves as he told me that it, the dream, was like an endless, escalating nightmare come true, magnifying day after day. The swell stayed huge, and kicked again, huge he said, and so the boat didn't come when it was supposed to. His supplies were scant, totally insufficient, so he was on rations from the beginning.

Finally the boat appeared, and he was saved. Delirious, feeling like an intensive care patient about to die, the ride back nearly killed him. Finally he left Bali and was stoked to make it back to oz alive.

'Yeh, Gland, been there, done that.'

'Wow, that must have been awesome, a dream come true, what were the waves like?'

Don't forget shat's, in your excitement to claim goofer. Shat's was the turning point where the thread took off, as he unselfishly, and mercifully pulled you through in his slipstream, before catapulting you to stardom.

The wind beneath your wings. Fly, fly...

I find Hercs storytelling quite uplifting

Thankyou crusst, 'modern' surfing needs these stories. Lest it become obliterated by exchange rates, ungainly water crafts of absolutely gargantuan dimensions, jet ski parking lots, self inflating, blow up safety units, and even fines for being 'legend's at monstrous, vicious, massive, I could drive a truck through it, (a radio controlled one)'bomboras'.

Yes, true goofer, the story has similarities with some old jezza 'stories'. Although this tale of jungle savagery, is a chemical free, legendary version.

And good goofer! Yes, don't forget that we are down here goofer, not too far away though, before you hurl your top of the cliff, legendariness away so to speak!

Speaking of Gland I've heard so many tale's and met so many great character's there over the year's I think that's why I keep going back for not only the wave's.Like this year spending a lazy arvo being cooked clam's on a skewer around a camp fire crates of beer flowing listening to Tommy Chong's son Paris telling storie's of his dad and" Uncle" Cheech back in the day had us all in tear's or meeting and hanging with John Philbin aka "Turtle" such a cool bloke and super funny guy ripper surfer too. Pete from San Jose who own's his own string of burger joints is just entertainment plus 24/7 in his mid 50's look's like Elvis Costello with a flat top and can talk a leg of a chair complete ball of energy legend.Then you hear the Donny Potter story's and were do you start.

A clam-bake with some special sugar-cubes to boot. Sweet.

Jeezus.

And "The Butcher".

Speakin' of characters, Dermie & Gerard Healey?? Every year??

Bill Murray??

(back in the daze)

Actually in all seriousness, G-Land has got some real tales of carnage and survival, and that's when you hit land!

Old mate was telling me his tale of supervised horror this year. Yikes! We were drinking Buckfast at the time so the details are a bit fuzzy. Maybe Fraser can fill us in?

(and I'm not talking about his David Attenborough 'rainbow freebird' incident either)

Few years back now there was this DVD of these few American guys surfing this remote area of Indo (bugger it can't remember the title). Dropped in by boat, built their own camp, genuine remote survival game, took in goats for meat, had to paddle across bays to surf waves, eaten alive by bugs ....... great scary waves (thinking Apocalypse was featured). The back story is they all got out but one of the crew developed some serious tropical diseases back home and was warned off going to the tropics again on medical grounds. Had a great sound track to boot ........ the title anyone?

Timmy turner from USA.

That's all I've got.

Got a brain infection.......v. lucky to live to tell the tale.

'Second Thoughts' is the title.

Faarkin hard core those boys...wonder what they are doing now...love to hear there views on the Indo/ Ments area 10 + yrs on .

That's it guys, thanks. Crazy stuff.

Wow, admire their courage, and pretty ordinary preparation for what can be a very harsh environment. As much as the water, reef, waves, heat, thirst hunger etc are problematic, getting bitten by bugs relentlessly would just do my head in, and there are the fevers, the bugs, the bugs on the fevers, the bugs and their fevers, the trippy headfuck of a fever on a tropical island with no medical help for days or maybe even weeks. Holy hell.

There's a french crew who made a similar internet series to second thoughts. Slightly more adventure focused with waves and surfing which aren't as spectacular but entertaining nonetheless.
They did a few other web series including one in the solomons & Gabon.

Laurie Towner Princes Island Apocolypse : Vimeo
Full Screen and try and get your head the thing around 11.25 mins - holy shit !

Years ago I sat out there for seven shitty days on a rat infested wooden boat with gunwales that sat mere inches above the water line while waiting for swell, any swell, and nothing came.

@udo

Fark! That's about as hardcore as it gets, surely. Huge, heavy, remote, tropical pits. Cheers for the heads up.

@stu, you would want to kill people after an experience like that, well I would have anyways. Hot, humid, poor sleep, cramped, and cash spent with no waves never good. ... was thinking yesterday Timmy Turner mentioned that had surfed that place three years in a row, there must have been a lot of down time in all of that, and on a island with nowhere to go,i'd hate that. On the trips I've done I start going stir crazy after a few days if I can't move a round a bit even with good surf.

The whole episode seemed like a drag .

Cool movie - Hell adventure - great story - bragging rights - hard work - brain infection - drinking / swimming in putrid water = no thanks.

Did he end up with the health complications from those trips? Or was it on a later trip after the film was release?

# Guysmiley::
"Few years back now there was this DVD of these few American guys surfing this remote area of Indo (bugger it can't remember the title). Dropped in by boat, built their own camp, genuine remote survival game, took in goats for meat, had to paddle across bays to surf waves, eaten alive by bugs ....... great scary waves (thinking Apocalypse was featured). The back story is they all got out but one of the crew developed some serious tropical diseases back home and was warned off going to the tropics again on medical grounds. Had a great sound track to boot ........ the title anyone?"

The true story is different than what they have you believe . I mean these guys arrived with 500$ worth of chocolate bars to eat . I invited them into my camp to stay with me . I had to leave , they re-enacted a movie script by pretentding they were ferals in my bush camp . The movie scene is Complete bollocks , travis was the real feral but timmy and the other guys all wore spectacles due to having never eaten a vegetable in their whole lifes . I taught them what potatoes etc and rice was . They had never heard of it before .