If you want to learn to surf island-style, the balmy,
shark-free Indian Ocean waters off Seminyak, Bali, can’t be beat.
An ex-boyfriend once tried to teach me to surf. It was a
disaster. As soon as we hit the water, he launched himself onto his board and
sped off in pursuit of the nearest wave expecting me to follow. I didn’t. I
froze, anxiously peering beyond the breakers (was that a shark fin or kelp?)
and waiting – in vain, it turned out- for the gentle instruction that would
take me from surfing virgin to wave goddess.
Our relationship wasn’t an entire washout – through it, I
gained a surfboard and a wetsuit. So, when I decided to head to Bali on
holiday, my mission was simple – by the end of it, I wanted to be able to catch
waves with confidence. And this time, I was going to pay someone to help me do
it.
Base camp: sophisticated Seminyak on the west coast of the
island. Here, exclusive boutiques and café serving flat whites and organic salads
rub shoulders with roadside warungs (eating houses) dishing up Indonesian
specialities like Babi Guling (spicy suckling pig) or Gado-Gado
(peanut-flavoured tofu and stir-fried veg). But most importantly, Legian Beach,
lined with surf schools, has no reef-the perfect spot for surfing newbies.
Luxe out
Surf Haven Bali, a
luxury surf spa retreat
I started my mission at Surf Haven Bali, a luxury surf spa
retreat. It operates from a stylish villa a mere stone’s skip from the beach.
Here, women looking to combine me-time with surf-time can enjoy seven days of
yoga, meditation, surf lessons, spa treatments and healthy, taste bud-tingling
food with a maximum of nine other like-minded ladies. During my visit, most
were in their 30s, career-women looking to switch off from stressful jobs. But
according to New Zealand-born Janine Hall, who started the retreat almost three
years ago, it’s becoming popular with harried moms too, as well as the newly
single hoping to heal a broken heat.
“Surfing is empowering for women,” says Janine. Super-fit
Carly McCrae (who reminds me of Tracy Anderson, Gwyneth Paltrow’s personal
trainer) is the resident surf instructor. She’s bubbly and fun, the ideal
person to hold my hand through my first surfing steps. After a safety talk at
the villa, we head to the beach. Here, Carly is joined by the boys from
Quicksilver Surf School who take us through the basics of surfing on land. On
our yoga-mat “surf-boards”, we’re taught the correct stance: knees bent,
hip-width apart, one arm crooked at the elbow, one stretched in the direction
we’re headed for balance.
The yoga-mat
“surf-boards”
We’re also taught two ways to stand up: the “pop up”,
hopping onto both feet simultaneously, and the slightly easier technique of
“scooching” onto the knees before standing up one leg at a time.
We start off in the “foamies” – after the wave has broken,
it moves towards shore in a non-threatening horizontal line of white foam.
Seems the Ex Taught Me a thing or two after all, because after assuming my
position, board pointed at the beach, feed at the back of the board, hands by
my chest gripping the “rails” (sides of the board), I feel myself being lifted
up and propelled forward. Without thinking, I pop up. And stay up! And just
like that I’m riding a wave. It feels good. Scratch that… it feels incredible!
Love local
Day two dawns and I’ m feeling confident. I’ve booked a
lesson with Double-D. It’s a surf school run by Balinese brothers, Made and
Gede Dedik, and operates from Double Six Beach. Made has loads of local
knowledge and he’s a great teacher, firm – he keeps my enthusiasm at my
previous day’s success in check – but fun.
I skip the beginners’ introductory lesson and head straight
into the water. I have the art of the “pop up” licked and, after watching me
catch my first foamie, Madek tells me I’m ready to head “to the back”. That’s
surfer-speak for moving out beyond the breakers to catch the power of the green
waves before they break.
Uh, really? Despite being a strong swimmer, waves scare me.
And I know from my time with the ex that what look like baby waves from shore
turn into rolling giants when you’re beneath them. But Madek puts me at ease.
After showing me how to “Eskimo roll” through bigger waves by rolling to one
side and holding the board above my head, letting the wave churn over me, we
paddle out beyond the break. Sitting on my board chatting easily to Madek, I’m
feeling a heady mix of fear, anticipation and joy. And in that moment, I know
I’ve become a cliché: I’m stoked.
The pros
Quiksilver store
I wake up on day three with my body groaning. But there’s no
time for self-pity; today I’m being coached by the guys from Quiksilver. I join
a group of eight other surfing wannabes plus Chris and Tito, our coaches. After
stretching, we go over the basics again on land. Chris reminds us to look
behind us at the wave to know when to start paddling. It’s easy to forget the
theory when a wave is headed for you, so Quiksilver is emphatic about
repetition.
When we hit the water though, my pop-up feels sluggish, and
once upright, I fall over immediately. I’m looking for excuses. Is it my board?
I asked for an 8, the same size as the one I’d used the previous day. No
difference. Perhaps the waves are too big? After less than half an hour, I take
myself back to shore. I’m done.
On reflection, o realise the issue had nothing to do with my
board or the waves. It was me. Or specifically, my confidence, having a coach
dedicated solely to me offered a safety net. Here, with Chris and Tito’s attention
often focused elsewhere, I felt like I was on my own. And it scared me.
Still, a healthy dose of reality is no bad things and
tomorrow I have a one-on-one lesson booked to regain my confidence.
Solo sessions
Legian Beach
Frengki immediately puts me at ease. He picks me up from my
guesthouse and we head back to Legian Beach.
First, he adjusts my technique on land: my hands should be
closer to my body, feet further towards the back of the board. And importantly,
I must always look forward; look down, and I’m soggy toast.
Frengki also gives me a lesson in currents and rips. Until
now, the thought of heading beyond the breakers has been a scary prospect, but
when it sinks in that this really is the safest place to be, I begin to relax.
I ride my first wave all the way to the beach but on my second, post-pop-up, I
look down for a millisecond and predictably, wipe-out spectacularly.
On my way back out beyond the breakers I’m greeted with what
I think is the biggest wave I’ve yet to encounter.
A great green wall of water is headed my way and I know it’s
going to break – on me. I panic. “The wave’s too big,” I yell, before my
life-preservation instinct kicks in and clutching my board, I Eskimo roll
through it.
When I come out the other side, shaken but intact, Frengki
gives me the most useful advice I’ve heard: “Never say a wave is big out loud
or in your head.” A wave is just a wave. Give it power and the wave’s won, he
says. And with that, I paddle back out. I’m ready for more.
