Indo here we go. "We caught the wrong boat!" Hangover and in hysterics we pulled into the bay of Gilly T....not Lombok. Canggu, or as we affectionally called it-the Gu, had sucked us deep within its vortex. The Deus event had well and truly been and gone and the waves were about as good as Sumner but the awesome foursome were locked in. We knew the locals, what warungs to hit and more importantly what was on every night. Finally, after our 100th onshore hungover surf we had reached breaking point and knew it was time to get out, and get out fast. We deliberated for awhile about where would be out next destination. Toddy only had a week and as much as we wanted to get away from built up Bali we didn't want to miss a Sunday session. With a trip back to Uluwatu starting to look as adventurous as we were going to get we had a chat to a travel agent in the street. Anok, sold us on week long mission to Lombok. Connecting busses and boats from our doorstep included it was all going to be a cruise-what unfolded was a little different. It all sounded so easy. A thirty minute van ride to the port and a half hour speed boat and we were good to go! So with this mellow day of traveling in mind me and Toddy decided a night out in Syminyak would be a a bit of harmless fun...after two hours of sleep we awoke in agony. The taxi van was waiting and arguing that our tickets didn't include the transport of our surfboards. We battled for 10 minutes before relenting and giving him his extra rupiah. It seemed the driver smelt our night out and after pissing him off about the payment was going to get his remittance by ferociously throwing the van into every corner. Only half an hour I told myself. After two of the most painful hours of the trip we arrived. Relieved to have made it without releasing my Seminyak over the passengers in front of me, we snatched our gear from the torture truck and headed for the fun ferry. Bradley took charge of the situation and inquired with the boat men if this was to be our vessel. They happily took our tickets and hiffed our boards aboard. We jumped on the top deck with a warning we might get a few splashes of water on us but with the sweat gushing down our faces it would be a welcome refreshment. Thirty minutes into our thirty minute trip we had barely made it out of the harbour. We asked some of the other passengers on there expected time frames. Everything from twenty minutes to three hours was thrown into the mix. We accepted the unknown and ordered a Bintang. About one hour into the trip the first splashes of water began brushing our faces. About one hour and ten minutes into the trip we were struggling to take breaths between the waves unloading on the deck. We were wet to the bone, soaked to the core and Bradley had the whole deck in hysterics with his titanic reenactments-even the boat hands, who had know idea what he was saying where pissing themselves. Two soaking hours later we idled towards land. Thinking Lombok looked smaller than we had envisioned we asked the drivers if this was it. "No this Gilly T-Lombok there" "O okay so we drop some people off here then go to Lombok?" "No Lombok different boat ahahahaha" Well if the boat thought Brads titanic routine was funny this had stolen the show. We had to laugh aswell, four hours of brutally hungover travel and we had arrived at the wrong island. Toddy looked like he was smiling but I'm pretty sure it was that slow smile you make when you first start crying. One night in Gilly T- Me and Toddy went into hibernation, Brad went hiking and Ed went and scored hell waves which we all were pretty pissed off about. The next day we caught a public ferry to our intended destination. Five days in Lombok went in a flash. Some fun waves, some even better scooter rides (unsurprisingly ended in a crash-toddy was fine) a fun night and some new friends from California and South America and it was time to sail back to the mainland. Toddy had 5 days left in Bali and we had his uncles villa to ourselves in Seminyak. We had lovely few days relaxing by the pool, games of scrabble and scenic walks...Well somewhere between that and the Wolf of Wall Street. As you can imagine Toddy was always going out with a bang. Gnarly Nias! With teary eyes me, Ed and Brad said goodbye to our captain Toddy. Still dazed from the last five days we had no plan what our next move was. We went to Kuta and our base the Sayang Maha Marta hotel. They were used to us rocking up with no booking and haggling them for a cheap room that we could put more beds in. The next two days were traumatic as we wondered between travel agents and idea's of where to go. Covered in a filthy coat of Kuta we all desperately wanted to have something sorted but all had differing ideas of where it was we should be. After far too long at the scummy Internet cafe tossing up between Nias, Lances right, playgrounds and Canggu I selfishly made the call I was going to Nias. It was a days travel and a world class right hander. It also meant my old mate Jono could tag along. Ed, reluctant of the crowds, jumped on board, Brad delayed a decision. Back on the backfiring beasts, we scooted out to Ulu's for a few days of familiar comforts before departing. Of those familiarities was Brads favourite milkshake and catching up with Lockie and Lana who escaped NZ when a German tourist made a complaint they received hyperthermia after Lans hired him a spring suit for the ten degree water. Then it was the night before our 4am departure. Jono arrived at 9pm so we had seven hours to show him a good Bali night-where better place to do it than the guuu! With his little blue hat on, Johnny was always going to steal an old mans heart. We ruled the dance floor the same way we had as year 7s at the mt pleasant disco. Nothing had changed even Jono trying to casually tuck his boner under his belt when he was dancing with a hot girl. Somehow around 6am Ed had us all in a taxi van headed for the airport. Sadly, although we had gained jolly Jono we said good bye to Bakery Brad-who would spend his final week is Bali continuing his research in what makes milk shake. Three flights later and a three hour drive and surprisingly we arrived without a hitch at Lugundri bay, Nias just in time for a sunset surf. Nias is said to have been discovered by Kevin Lovett and John Giesel, two young Australian surfers, in 1975. The pair spotted the horse shoe bay on a Chiefs map while in North Samatra. Their adventure and planning paid off and they surfed perfect Nias barrels for 3 months alone. Sadly, Giesel, died 7 months later after suffering repeated bouts of malaria and contracting pneumonia or maybe because his mind had found heaven and his body followed? The pair vouched to keep the wave a secret and 35 years later we had secretly been told to go by our friend Hammy. One of humans best kept secrets is that we all secretly love telling other people, people's secrets. "Hey Toddy told me not to tell anyone, so just between you me he's taken up Ballet again." And that's exactly the way it's gone with Nias and Toddys Ballet- everyone's in on the secret. There are about ten losmen (strange name for guest houses) that line the point in Nias, each one accommodating up to ten or so surfers. All of which are facing the wave-so everyone's watching all day everyday. Although it sounds like a recipe for a crowded disaster we spent our first week surfing three times a day with a mellow 5-15 person crowd. Staying at our losmen was a bunch of well seasoned Indo travellers from home. Nick introduced us to his hour glass crowd theory. Pretty much you aim to go out just before you think a bigger crowd was going to start coming in. That way you could surf a good in-between phase which was empty before people realise it wasn't crowded and all started coming out! So for a week we waxed the night before so we wouldn't wake others in the morning, turned our hour glasses and scored really fun waves! Early on in the week we began hearing murmurs that a big swell was coming, which is pretty standard in indo as everyone loves to hype waves. Well as the week went on the hype for the swell became substantially more than standard. Tracks, Surfer, Funny pet pics, Magic Seaweed were all posting, gramming tweeting and twitting the shit out of this thing. Jono panicked and caught a flight out the day before the swell arrived (jokes he had to go) and as he did a bunch of the worlds best big wave Daves started arriving with 14 boards each and 12 cameras. The first day the swell started to show I had a great dawnie. A few good tubes and some better close outs- I was frothing. Thinking it was too deep to really hit the bottom I started taking off deeper and looking for a few more of the double ups. This was all going great until I got slapped straight to the reef, bounced, dragged and abused. I came in tail between my legs knowing the swell had hardly started filling in... The next day we awoke at dark and could just make out the lines starting to wrap into the bay. As the sun began creeping up the reality of how big it was became visible. House sized swell lines marched at pace before hitting the reef, the bottom of the wave dropping out completely creating a huge cavern for the likes of Rasta, Anthony Walsh and Alex Grey to get a portfolio of covers, ads, grams and features in funnypetpics.com. Encouraged by the boys at the losmen I paddled out, sat wide, got a couple and survived. The next day was same same but better. The swell had held all of its size, possibly grew, but was lining up perfectly. Someone was getting the wave of their life every set. I was starting to get more confidence aswell and as everyone was waiting for the tsunami's it left me plenty of smaller ones. The same day I watched Damo, a teacher from the goldy and all round legend get the wave of the swell. With no sponsors or personal photog, Damo caught the wave he said he'd been trying to get in 9 years of Nias trips. It was mind blowing. Three days later and I was riding a beat up longboard on head high rollers...The Chargers had left with full hard drives as quickly as they had come in. Me and Eddy hung with local groms who hassled us to buy coconuts and doughnuts which we consistently obliged. Then just as the first mumblings of new swell started it was our time to leave. Nias had been epic, an eye opener an experience. Now it was time for a new one-Sri Lanka was its name. 🐘
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