Bali is known for its surfing. It attracts surfers of all skill levels the world overflow its consistent waves, beautiful shores and friendly locals. My first full day here on the island, I trudged down past the grazing field to the beach and inquired on board prices for the day, week or other possible arrangement.
“It’s 100,000 per hour.”
What? No more than thirty minutes ago I discovered motorbike rental costs only 50,000 rupiah per day. How could a surf board be 100,000 per hour.
“This is a longboard, and in the high season it’s 200,000 per hour. This board is great, very easy to get up, catches any wave, perfect for the break here. 5 million Rupiah new. Short boards are 50,000 per hour, but the waves here are not so good for that.”
Ugh. And he has such a wide selection available: One giant (3.5m long board) or 2 short boards. It’s almost 3pm, surf looks great, and there’s really only 4 hours of useable sunlight left in the way.
“OK,” I said. “How about for 3 hours?”
“240k”
“And 2 hours?”
“180.”
…
“Alright. Sounds good, I’ll take it for two hours”, I say as his salivation instinct kicks in. “Problem is, I don’t have that much”. Classic bargaining technique: show them the money. “I’ll take the board for two hours, and I’ll give you the whole 150 I’ve got.”
He took “all my money”, so he’s happy. I’m not necessarily happy, but it seems to be the best option in a narrow time frame. I can shop around more tomorrow after my appetite has been peaked. It’s still cheaper than Waikiki.
“Two hours,” we check our watches. I prime my timer for two hours countdown. He notes the current time of 2:45.
“OK, two forty five.”
“Right, two hours, I’ll start my clock once I get into the water, alright? That’s only fair.”
“Two hours.”
“Ill start swimming in when my alarm hits. If I’m back after 5:15, I owe you more money.”
He smiled and seemed happy enough with that. I reached satisfaction with the transaction. 2.5 hours for $15 seemed like a good deal.
Weeper began to play in my mind: going’ surfin’! I’m goin surfin’!
An hour later, I was back. The board was gone.
The waves out at the outward break were about 2 meters in heigh. Decent, but not crazy. But they were certainly powerful.
It took about ten minutes to paddle-out. Floating in preparation for a ride is serene. It’s relaxing, beautiful, and any other worrys seem to drift away. It’s just you and the ocean, and others in your position, bobbing over pre-waves waiting and hoping for their catch-of-the-day.
I managed a few short rides, graciously put, and reminded myself that I’m picking this up again for the first time since 2004, an ill fated and short lived trip to El Salvador, which elicited curious pryings from NSA about how two students could go to El Salvador to surf for 3 days with backpacks, no surfboards and seemingly no income. They have no creativity.
Take it easy. Don’t get discouraged. This is the first of almost two weeks of available Bali surf.
I went for another wave, poorly timed, and it slid past before cresting. Floating a bit more, chatting with other bobbers about hotel rates, rentals vs owning, and hearing accents from Canadian to Russian.
I went for another wave. A bit early, and got the spin cycle treatment as it threw me aside. Don’t fit it, let it spin out, manage your air, stay calm, and come up when it’s done. If you hold your breath a bit, you will float up to the surface when it lets go. The board is drug a bit further, tethered to your ankle. Remember this, and maintain your own distance and safety above that of the equipment. Surfboards float without riders, not necessarily the other way around.
Grab the board. Swim back out. Bob on the waves. Prepare, visualize, pull the trigger and go.
Up, down, tossed, repeat.
After these cycles, you’re invariably pulled closer into shore. If the break hits multiple times between you and the beach, you may be between break zones once released.
This is where I found myself. With approximately 55 minutes left on the clock, I came out of the spin, checked the situation, and another wave was heading for a crash. The board is tethered, and I dive under, knowing that the board will be caught, and I’ll get a drag. Such is surfing. After the drag, and I come up to catch my breath, I look back to see the leash and lower half of the board. The wave split it I half at the equator, inside styrofoam balls exposed to the outside world.
I’m still in the crash zone. I see the wave, dive in, and get the tetherly drag. This is getting tough, as recovery time to catch my breath feels now like half that of the drag time.
I release my ankle leash, and prioritize to shore. The board is bust: let’s not come out the same.
In lifeguard parlance, I could describe the next 5 minutes as distressed swimming. This is a state that is useful to identify as a guard in order to grab someone and bring them to safety before they drown, and rescue becomes significantly more difficult. Breathing is possible, head is above water, but there is little control in the swimmers hands as they primarily try to regain control of the situation.
I made it to shore. I stumbled up to the surf shop/restaurant. The proprieter approached me.
“What happened? Where’s the board?”
“You sell water? How much? Get me one” I squawked, fumbling my way for a seat. My wet rash-guard felt constrictive as I worked to calm and regain my breath after coming in.
And I’d managed to inadvertently break his fucking surfboard.
The vulgarity is more than justified.
Negotiations went on sparingly as we starred outta the waves. I recognized I owed him a surfboard, a long board. He obviously wanted full value to buy a new one, which wasn’t happening. His board was 5 months old, with over 60 riders. Even at the off season rate of 100,000 per hour, he’s made that back. It could have been more, but investment has certainly been returned. I wanted to ensure, after buying him a new one, i could rent it free of charge the next few days – try to get some more value out of my replacing his inventory: he would have nothing on these terms. It’s the first full day of my vacation. Let’s not let this ruin my entire two weeks. In the end, we settle at 3 million.
Maybe it too much. Maybe he needs to put up an additional 2 million to get a replacement. Maybe his buddy gives them to him used for free. I don’t know. I don’t really care. I made it out to ride another day, and got a free motorbike ride into town for ATM use and he drove me back with snacks and beer for arrival. My friend Ryan arrives later tonight, and more friends Saturday. I already know the lead-in:
“I bought a surfboard”, I say matter-of-factly, with a spec of optimism thrown in for good measure.
“Really, you did!?!? That’s awesome!”
“Ah, not so much. I wasn’t planning on it. It was a ‘you break it, you bought it’ situation.”
Life goal: buy a surfboard. Check
Life goal: own a surfboard. Pending.
Sounds fun. Wish I was there!
Good Story—–Good writing———-