Around The World In 80 Waves

I first met Peter Kraus (who you see here tearing it up back in the day) walking down the street in the early eighties. At the time he was our milkman, and because he was keen to get his round finished so he could get on with one of his adventures later in the day he asked if I would help him with the remaining deliveries for the princely sum of £1. That would have bought an 11 year old me a lot of sweets back then so I jumped at the opportunity.

We hit it off straight away and I ended up helping him deliver his round at weekends, during my holidays and even sometimes before school for the next four years. I can honestly say it was the only job I have ever had that I looked forward to going to each day, purely because we had so much fun together. It is also the reason why I have never been one for laying in bed for long, and always willing to get outside in the elements regardless of the weather because I am so hardened to it.

Pete was the first person to treat me like an adult, and continued to do so even when I was getting myself into all kinds of trouble that caused many others to give me a hard time or turn their backs on me. An example of this might be that he gave me my first driving lesson.

The reason for this was that if I drove the milk float then he could catch up on his bookwork as we went down the road. However I very much doubt that the local police would have been as impressed as I was with an eleven year old driving a motor vehicle through traffic on public roads. Pete trusted me though, and I should point out that my later efforts at driving the milk float off a cliff had nothing to do with this time. The results you see here were all my own work, but if I remember correctly he had actually managed to write off a couple of his own in his time.

One day we were out on the round and he told me that there were probably going to be good waves today, and asked if I would like to try surfing. He had got into it himself years before and still loved getting into the water. Prior to that time my only concept of surfing was the Old Spice aftershave advert and the titles to Hawaii Five-O.

After getting the all clear from my mother to go we went to Pete’s house to collect the gear. I can remember the mild alarm I had upon seeing a block of sex wax lying around while I waited there, wondering what it was and then being told to bring it!

We drove across North Wales and down to the end of the Llyn Peninsular to go to the beach, where it was Pete’s spare wetsuit and his old board that I was using in the session I have described in the Why? page of this website. It was nearly thirty years ago, and I still remember almost everything about that trip, and have never lost the love for riding waves that that day gave to me. It is a debt I owe to Pete, which I will never be able to repay.

The two of us went surfing a few times after that, and also invented the sport of urban surfing a milk float where we would take turns to climb out of the moving vehicle, climb up on the roof and surf it down the road. One of my most amusing memories of my childhood is going past an elderly lady brushing her teeth in the window of the first floor as I surfed along at eye level on the roof of our float. She didn’t have a clue what was going on but waved back when I saluted her on the way past.

It would be a few years before I was legally allowed to drive, and get myself to the beach but as soon as I could Pete was only too willing to give me an old board, surf magazines to keep the stoke alive between sessions, and a wetsuit because he knew there was no way I could afford to buy any of it myself. Regardless of the fact that the water temperature was less than 10C I surfed in that tatty old Rip Curl shorty for years.

As I moved on into university and then further away from North Wales with work we always stayed in touch and occasionally bumped into each other at the rugby. He was as ardent a Wales fan as I am, and always entertaining company.

Sadly over time he became troubled with illness, and his way of beating his own path didn’t always fit in with the conservative perspective of others. Despite this, his passion for environmental issues managed to get him elected to be a councillor for the Green Party, and by all accounts he caused mayhem insisting upon more radical approach to the way things got done. I know a lot of people didn’t approve of the way he went about things, but it always made me chuckle. You need mavericks to change the established order if it isn’t good enough and I thought it might be just the kick up the back side that any of the other politicians needed.

The last time I saw Peter was shortly before I left London. You can see him in this picture taken in my flat with the 7’2″ Dick Van Straalen board he had given me some twenty years earlier. He was in town and asked if he could have his board back. I have treasured it for the interim period and had it on display in my lounge, but could not refuse the request. Your first board is like your first child and any surfer would understand that he was the only person I would ever have given it up to.

We had a fun time together during his brief visit, and he read me a load of the poetry he had written recently, and he was surprised to find that many of the bands I have discovered by myself were some of his favourites from back in the day.

We have been in touch throughout this trip of mine, which simply wouldn’t be occurring were it not for Pete having introduced me to the sport that I love. He wanted to know about the waves I have been riding, the places I have stayed in and has even been good enough to put me in touch with several people so that I might get a bed for free on my way around.

As a consequence of all the above I can’t tell you how upset I am to report that Peter has taken his own life.

Rest in peace Pete.

You were too colourful for this world in more ways than one.

I’m sure that the water is warm and the waves are pumping wherever you are.

Leaving Indonesia earlier than expected allows me some unexpected time enjoying more of the company of Kathleen, Chris, Adam and Rossana upon my return to Australia. I have come to realise the value of good friends on this trip and how precious time spent in their company is.

I am looking forward to seeing so many people again upon my return home. However sadly I have also discovered that I will not get the chance to catch up with another old friend any more…

My time is up in Java, so after packing up and saying my goodbyes I am back on board the G-Land Express. Everyone on board takes one last look at Money Trees on the way past, which was still cranking and the guys in the water were charging the break.

I haven’t been at all impressed with what I have seen of Bali and have decided to get back to Australia to spend more time with my friends there. I have spent so much time on my own during this trip, so it will be good to charge up my batteries whilst relaxing with people I know

I may be back in Indonesia later in my trip when Sumatra and the islands off the west coast will be close to my intended route home.

However I am unsure if I will travel across if the waves are going to be as busy as I have seen along the southern shores of the country. Whilst the quality of the breaks is undoubted there are so many people in the water and a distinct lack of surfing etiquette is all too often apparent.

Not much to report about the journey back other than due to my change of plans I had a ten hour wait in the airport before I could check into my flight. As usual I got ripped off for my surfboard going on a plane. I was flying Virgin Australia who only provide in flight entertainment for the six hour flight to those who have their Android or I-phone application. That there is no means of charging your device through the flight and that no warning that accessing the apps is necessary seems to have escaped them. Typical performance for an airline on my trip. 

The only other thing to report was that once back in New South Wales I saw a huge python in the road which we ushered back into the bush with a stick to stop it getting run over. They like to warm themselves on the hot tarmac apparently.

The swell that hits G-Land while I am here is simply monstrous. At times it is at least triple overhead and several times I walked out over the reef at low tide to get a closer look at it, hoping that I might see somewhere where I could surf.

I never did because it was huge and there were surfers with skills far greater than my own deciding to stay dry because it would be no fun at all and there would be every chance of you not coming back in one piece.

I lost count of how many painfully huge wipe-outs I saw, and this picture borrowed from the internet will gives you some idea of how badly hammered some of the people in the water were getting. Remember that the waves are breaking over just a few feet of water once the swell rolls over the edge of the reef.

Once you are inside you cant get back out unless there is a break in the swell (there wasn’t very often) or until the sweep has carried you all the way along the reef and things start easing off a tad at the break known as Chicken’s. However even that end was still too challenging for me while I was there.

One guy went over the falls near Fan Palms and then everybody on the beach watched his board tombstoning about half a kilometre along the edge of the reef. He was OK but practically crawling out of the water at the end of the experience a few minutes later. Nobody can help you and there nearest serious medical assistance is at best hours away. Gnarly is the understatement of the year here.

The people at Bobby’s have set up some shelters with bean bags, and a number of benches from where you can watch the surfers taking their life into their own hands. There was risk and reward though because I saw one guy get three separate five second barrels on one wave which he rode along at speeds I simply couldn’t generate on my board.

They have also rigged up the wheelbarrow fridge contraption you see above to get as many beers down there each night for everybody to enjoy. Westward facing there were awesome sunsets here every night and a great deal of amusement from those on the shore about how late those in the water would leave it before coming in and possibly have to take the huge waves and the reef on in the dark!

As well as all the other wildlife here in Java there also used to be Tigers. Sadly humans had hunted them to extinction by the seventies and they were formally declared extinct a decade later.

There are rumours that they still exist on the island, but it could only be in a tiny population even if it were true. However Tiger Tracks is a break named after the path towards it, which legend would have you believe occasionally sports some fresh footprints from the magnificent animals.

Myself and a few of the others from the camp took a boat over to the break to try and find something a bit more managable because a ridiculously big swell has arrived and the waves breaking in front of the camp were now somewhat above my pay grade.

After the heavy wipeouts at Kongs and Fan Palms I was feeling very nervous during this session which was again over a shallow reef, and I didn’t really bathe myself in glory as a consequence. Here is a shot of my board going airborne after one of any number of huge wipe outs that I experienced.

Here is another of me baling out of one of the waves which at times would just close out along the whole of the line up.

I’m trying to ditch the board in an attempt to avoid landing on it as I went over the falls once more.

I was surfing like it was my first ever time in the water and I have to say it was embarrassing because the standard of surfers who have made the pilgrimage to this area is unbelievably high.

As you can see it didn’t stop me having fun though, and I certainly was giving the other surfers a few laughs as I got hammered repeatedly.

Some of the guys felt I was paddling too shallow and thought that might be why I was not catching enough through the session so I tried to dig deeper with every stroke.

Sure enough the additional commitment paid off and I was soon into a couple of decent rides.

The best of these you can see here, but even on this one I managed to get up with my leash wrapped around both legs like a lasso so when I tried to adjust my stance I snared myself up, wiping out and then going over the falls once more.

I was glad of the boots and helmet and thankfully didn’t maim myself, but it really felt like it was more by luck than judgement today!
After a couple of hours in the water the boat returned to collect us. everybody took this option to avoid a very long walk through the jungle.

There was the added bonus of not being bait for the tigers too!

Bobby’s Surf Camp at G-Land is right in the middle of the jungle. Apart from the three surf camps lining the shore there really isn’t anything here and the undergrowth around the camps is virtually impenetrable without a huge machete and an awful lot of elbow grease.

As you can see even the trees are angry here!

Because of the remote nature of the break the WiFi here was somewhat lacking which meant I have once again got a wee bit behind in my posts, so my apologies for the glut of posts now I have got a decent signal and a bit of time on my hands.

I will try to add them as gradually as I can but have a lot to update you on.

I didn’t see any wildlife in the water here but saw an abundance of it on dry land. There were spider monkeys and loads more of the macaque monkeys which I had seen in Lombok. The Javanese version are not quite as aggressive but much better at stealing food.

One guy had a chicken sandwich snatched from under his nose whilst he reached for the salt at the dinner table!

There weren’t just mammals here though. I saw ants that were half as long as your finger, bats, toucans, wild pigs, geckos and there was a huge spider, about the size of your fist, in our bathroom who I called Boris. Visits to the toilet started with kicking the seat to make sure he wasn’t hanging about underneath it!

However by far the most impressive were the five foot long monitor lizards that would crawl out of the jungle and across the camp as they headed for the kitchens in search of an easy meal.

There were also a number of green and brown snakes spotted. Most impressive of these was the Green Temple Viper which somebody saw in a tree above the footpath through the jungle to Kongs.

It was wrapped around something it had killed, which meant it wouldn’t be hungry and wouldn’t be interested in all of the surfers at the camp. Good job because they attack by dropping from trees and then bite their victims in the face! Their venom is highly poisonous, and it is known locally as the three steps snake because that is how far you get before the venom gets the better of you. Nice!

Whilst we were watching the waves one day we were joined by a herd of wild deer on the beach. I managed to get a few photos before they decided to run off.

However I suspect they ran off in the wrong direction because they ran up the little creek next to our camp in which an eight foot crocodile had been spotted about an hour before!