Life Aquatic. Crazy Alaia sliding in Indo.
12 NOV 20090493 VIEWS
Noosa Heads Harrison Roach skimming his Alaia into a flying cutback
From the latest ALB.
Life Aquatic
Words | Chris Del MoroPhotos | Dane Peterson
Mid-flight between San Francisco and Hong Kong I dreamt I was being attacked by a tiger. To protect myself from the violent beast I quickly swung my arms towards the roof of the plane, efficiently projecting my full glass of water sky-high. Suddenly I awoke to cold water rushing down my chest, and a soaking-wet, old Chinese dude bombarding me in an aggressive foreign tongue. Most people would be fairly bummed to sit in a damp pair of jeans for another eight hours, but when you’re about to embark on your maiden voyage to a distant island chain, famous for its point and reef lineups, nothing can curb your enthusiasm. Our collective goal was to surf perfect waves on a plethora of craft, ranging from ancient Polynesian alaias to traditional longboards ... and all the while thoroughly enjoy the life aquatic.
Californian Chris del Moro slots his Alaia along a Mentawaii’s section
Life at sea
With the first day at sea spent among friends and waves, the lighthearted spirit of this archipelago infiltrated our group’s everyday psyche. This set the tone for the rest of our incredible journey. The indonesian crew aboard our ship were the happiest and most helpful batch of cruisers imaginable. They had life at sea down to a science. Each member had a specific job, and they worked seamlessly as a team. Our group did its best to follow suit.
After several days of surfing great waves, time becomes irrelevant. Our life aboard the ship melted into a simple existence. Each day’s routine went as follows: rise before the sun, eat, find waves, enjoy surfing a plethora of boards, eat again, laugh and sleep. All-day-focused activities allowed the stresses of everyday life (cell phones, work, bills) to effortlessly drift away, and gifted us with an overpowering connection to the natural surroundings.
Simple pleasures, like watching nature morph throughout the course of a day, reading a good book, or stretching out your sore muscles, quickly consumed days on end. There seems to be a grounding power present when you are living, breathing and sleeping at sea … a magical current that allows humans the opportunity to easily find the balance within.
With the first day at sea spent among friends and waves, the lighthearted spirit of this archipelago infiltrated our group’s everyday psyche. This set the tone for the rest of our incredible journey. The indonesian crew aboard our ship were the happiest and most helpful batch of cruisers imaginable. They had life at sea down to a science. Each member had a specific job, and they worked seamlessly as a team. Our group did its best to follow suit.
After several days of surfing great waves, time becomes irrelevant. Our life aboard the ship melted into a simple existence. Each day’s routine went as follows: rise before the sun, eat, find waves, enjoy surfing a plethora of boards, eat again, laugh and sleep. All-day-focused activities allowed the stresses of everyday life (cell phones, work, bills) to effortlessly drift away, and gifted us with an overpowering connection to the natural surroundings.
Simple pleasures, like watching nature morph throughout the course of a day, reading a good book, or stretching out your sore muscles, quickly consumed days on end. There seems to be a grounding power present when you are living, breathing and sleeping at sea … a magical current that allows humans the opportunity to easily find the balance within.
Logging the playgrounds
On the third morning of our trip the bow of the ship pounded relentlessly into large, sloppy seas. As a result of this motion the majority of us were thrown about our small, wooden bunks. The night before we had made a communal decision to trek north during the night, in hopes of finding surf within the renowned playgrounds. After stumbling topside to see when the sea-sickening madness would end, our ship rounded a prominent headland, and with calming warmth the conditions shifted from turbulent seas to light offshore and seemingly flat. Bummer.
After exhausting our options for surfable locations, our surf-crazed guide, bevo, had one last possibility on the inside of the expansive bay. As we set anchor amidst this deserted stretch of paradise, you could faintly make out the offshore spray from a small left. To escape the reflective morning sun, t moe and dane jumped ship and scouted the waters. As the rest of us ate, we kept a close eye on the first few waves ridden. Dane “insane-in –the-membrane” dropped-in, disappeared, then casually perched on the nose and kicked out with a hoot.
As usual, our surf troops stormed the sea. Within half-an-hour we had all embarked on the beginning of a multiple-day marathon of longboard madness. Kassia’s grace on a single-fin log was a true act of beauty, harrison logged hours of tip-time, and i found myself finding great pleasure simply trimming across the razor-edged walls ahead.
Over the next days we all pushed our comfort levels by riding new equipment, and continued to surf in solitude. At one point we were joined by some europeans, shared a few waves, and found ourselves alone again after a large, dark squall settled in overhead. We found comfort in a great mixed tape and some spicy food on the top deck. Some of us scouted a comfortable nook that would allow us to shut down the engines and rest our deep-fried eyeballs. Just as we reached some deep rem cycles, mother nature flipped her cloud parting/offshore wind switch on, and we were soon to experience one of the finest left-handed logjams of our lives.
Most of us prepared our gear while half asleep, but dane and t moe were ahead of the game, prepared in record pace to capture the moments ahead. Soon thereafter we were back to our faithful positions on the crowned tip of the reef, and the rotations began. Like any great session, someone would ask, “how was the last one?” And the only response your overly blessed-out mind could ponder was, “ahhhhhh, can’t really remember!” Like children set free on a jungle gym, we spent countless hours on the sea in a drunken stupor of fun.
Some of my favorite memories from that magical session came from the paddles back out. As i cruised back along the channel’s edge, i found continual entertainment in harrison’s backside 10s and kassia’s overall style. A close second were the sensations felt while waiting for the next stack of ominous, slate-blue corduroy that would soon engulf us. The relationship between the sporadic rain, sun, clouds and sea reminded us all of the immense beauty of this planet. Considering the standard of surfing, we were left somewhat speechless by the overwhelming power of the experience. With the crackling of distant thunder, a black squall once again swallowed us whole, and our time in the playgrounds vanished into a million drops of rain.
While a majority of the mentawai islands was experiencing lacklustre surf, and most other boat crews were as frustrated as a fisherman with no bites, we had found an ideal hideaway, a quintessential testing grounds for our traditional small-wave equipment. Those few days logging proved that indonesian waters can be much more than paradise for a thruster, and that the excess baggage fees we paid to get our longboards there was worth its weight in gold.
On the third morning of our trip the bow of the ship pounded relentlessly into large, sloppy seas. As a result of this motion the majority of us were thrown about our small, wooden bunks. The night before we had made a communal decision to trek north during the night, in hopes of finding surf within the renowned playgrounds. After stumbling topside to see when the sea-sickening madness would end, our ship rounded a prominent headland, and with calming warmth the conditions shifted from turbulent seas to light offshore and seemingly flat. Bummer.
After exhausting our options for surfable locations, our surf-crazed guide, bevo, had one last possibility on the inside of the expansive bay. As we set anchor amidst this deserted stretch of paradise, you could faintly make out the offshore spray from a small left. To escape the reflective morning sun, t moe and dane jumped ship and scouted the waters. As the rest of us ate, we kept a close eye on the first few waves ridden. Dane “insane-in –the-membrane” dropped-in, disappeared, then casually perched on the nose and kicked out with a hoot.
As usual, our surf troops stormed the sea. Within half-an-hour we had all embarked on the beginning of a multiple-day marathon of longboard madness. Kassia’s grace on a single-fin log was a true act of beauty, harrison logged hours of tip-time, and i found myself finding great pleasure simply trimming across the razor-edged walls ahead.
Over the next days we all pushed our comfort levels by riding new equipment, and continued to surf in solitude. At one point we were joined by some europeans, shared a few waves, and found ourselves alone again after a large, dark squall settled in overhead. We found comfort in a great mixed tape and some spicy food on the top deck. Some of us scouted a comfortable nook that would allow us to shut down the engines and rest our deep-fried eyeballs. Just as we reached some deep rem cycles, mother nature flipped her cloud parting/offshore wind switch on, and we were soon to experience one of the finest left-handed logjams of our lives.
Most of us prepared our gear while half asleep, but dane and t moe were ahead of the game, prepared in record pace to capture the moments ahead. Soon thereafter we were back to our faithful positions on the crowned tip of the reef, and the rotations began. Like any great session, someone would ask, “how was the last one?” And the only response your overly blessed-out mind could ponder was, “ahhhhhh, can’t really remember!” Like children set free on a jungle gym, we spent countless hours on the sea in a drunken stupor of fun.
Some of my favorite memories from that magical session came from the paddles back out. As i cruised back along the channel’s edge, i found continual entertainment in harrison’s backside 10s and kassia’s overall style. A close second were the sensations felt while waiting for the next stack of ominous, slate-blue corduroy that would soon engulf us. The relationship between the sporadic rain, sun, clouds and sea reminded us all of the immense beauty of this planet. Considering the standard of surfing, we were left somewhat speechless by the overwhelming power of the experience. With the crackling of distant thunder, a black squall once again swallowed us whole, and our time in the playgrounds vanished into a million drops of rain.
While a majority of the mentawai islands was experiencing lacklustre surf, and most other boat crews were as frustrated as a fisherman with no bites, we had found an ideal hideaway, a quintessential testing grounds for our traditional small-wave equipment. Those few days logging proved that indonesian waters can be much more than paradise for a thruster, and that the excess baggage fees we paid to get our longboards there was worth its weight in gold.
Fuel TV host Kassia Meador, noseriding her favourite bay on this journey
Going right
After predominantly surfing lefts for the first five days, we decided to head south in search of rights. After all, thomas was dead-set on capturing the craziest alaia sliding possible. Although we had progressed greatly with our backside approach, it was time for the regular footers to set their front-side boogey into overdrive.
Our first forehand surf had us riding the alaias over a shallow, top-to-bottom, thunder crunch of a wave. A task none of us had ever attempted. We took some good beatings, which drove us multiple times into the jagged reef, but came out of the experience with a handful of our first, legitimate, alaia barrels. It was electrifying to effortlessly ride primitive equipment within the belly of such a powerful wave. Later that night we shared our excitement for our alaia breakthrough over a spicy noodle dish, and conversed on our game plan for the days ahead.
After predominantly surfing lefts for the first five days, we decided to head south in search of rights. After all, thomas was dead-set on capturing the craziest alaia sliding possible. Although we had progressed greatly with our backside approach, it was time for the regular footers to set their front-side boogey into overdrive.
Our first forehand surf had us riding the alaias over a shallow, top-to-bottom, thunder crunch of a wave. A task none of us had ever attempted. We took some good beatings, which drove us multiple times into the jagged reef, but came out of the experience with a handful of our first, legitimate, alaia barrels. It was electrifying to effortlessly ride primitive equipment within the belly of such a powerful wave. Later that night we shared our excitement for our alaia breakthrough over a spicy noodle dish, and conversed on our game plan for the days ahead.
Chris and Harry
On your marks, get set, go!
One of the standout alaia sessions of the trip was during a few days spent surfing the infamously fast rags rights. As we watched the distant speed bubbles churn down the point, harrison looked over and asked, “am i dreaming?” Thomas replied by bluntly stating, “hell yeah, you’re dreaming! Now get your gear together and let’s get to work”. Rags was well suited to alaia surfing, in fact the wave was so fast down the line that we opted out of surfing conventional surfboards because they had a hard time keeping up with the wave.
When we first paddled out veteran indo-adventurer jim banks greeted us with a warm welcome. He was highly intrigued by our wooden planks, and wished us luck on our quest. After a few good collisions with the extremely shallow reef, harrison and i locked into a few screamers. The speed and fluid drive from the alaia across the wave made our eyes water, and the trail from behind resembled the track off a speedboat. The lesson we learnt from rags was that we had just started tapping into the full potential of the alaias’ frictionless speed-trim. As dark skies approached, jim commented that he had never seen a board move with such effortless speed. With a rush of euphoric pleasures, after our session we spent the rest of the night trying to understand what had happened.
Although the concept of a flat, finless, 1/4” thick piece of wood maintaining a faster down-the-line speed than conventional designs seems far-fetched, the design principles help explain this breakthrough. Fins, rocker and concave are great for harnessing controlled manoeuvrability. Flat planks hold their trim via square rails and friction-free water-flow. We also learnt that the narrow, more pointed-nose swallowtails seemed to be the best design for barrel riding and controlled speed lines.
One of the standout alaia sessions of the trip was during a few days spent surfing the infamously fast rags rights. As we watched the distant speed bubbles churn down the point, harrison looked over and asked, “am i dreaming?” Thomas replied by bluntly stating, “hell yeah, you’re dreaming! Now get your gear together and let’s get to work”. Rags was well suited to alaia surfing, in fact the wave was so fast down the line that we opted out of surfing conventional surfboards because they had a hard time keeping up with the wave.
When we first paddled out veteran indo-adventurer jim banks greeted us with a warm welcome. He was highly intrigued by our wooden planks, and wished us luck on our quest. After a few good collisions with the extremely shallow reef, harrison and i locked into a few screamers. The speed and fluid drive from the alaia across the wave made our eyes water, and the trail from behind resembled the track off a speedboat. The lesson we learnt from rags was that we had just started tapping into the full potential of the alaias’ frictionless speed-trim. As dark skies approached, jim commented that he had never seen a board move with such effortless speed. With a rush of euphoric pleasures, after our session we spent the rest of the night trying to understand what had happened.
Although the concept of a flat, finless, 1/4” thick piece of wood maintaining a faster down-the-line speed than conventional designs seems far-fetched, the design principles help explain this breakthrough. Fins, rocker and concave are great for harnessing controlled manoeuvrability. Flat planks hold their trim via square rails and friction-free water-flow. We also learnt that the narrow, more pointed-nose swallowtails seemed to be the best design for barrel riding and controlled speed lines.
Kassia, Chris and Harry
Interactions on land
As we floated towards a colourful, seaside village, littered with mosques topped by minarets, we spotted a radically excited gang of children running towards our ship. Thomas was keen to shoot some film and still photos on land, while bevo needed to take care of business with the locals. As we left the boat, with wooden boards in hand, we were instantly bombarded by happy children asking, “what’s your name? Where you from? What’s this? Have stickers?” At one point it seemed as though the entire village had come out to interact with our group. We took our shots, and were quickly swept into an epic volleyball game, smack-dab in the centre of town ... Against the local police squad! Needless to say, they gave us an official indonesian smack-down. Even though our interaction with locals was limited, it was hard not to be affected by local mentawaians’ infectious smiles, work ethic and welcoming spirits towards perfect strangers.
As we floated towards a colourful, seaside village, littered with mosques topped by minarets, we spotted a radically excited gang of children running towards our ship. Thomas was keen to shoot some film and still photos on land, while bevo needed to take care of business with the locals. As we left the boat, with wooden boards in hand, we were instantly bombarded by happy children asking, “what’s your name? Where you from? What’s this? Have stickers?” At one point it seemed as though the entire village had come out to interact with our group. We took our shots, and were quickly swept into an epic volleyball game, smack-dab in the centre of town ... Against the local police squad! Needless to say, they gave us an official indonesian smack-down. Even though our interaction with locals was limited, it was hard not to be affected by local mentawaians’ infectious smiles, work ethic and welcoming spirits towards perfect strangers.
Boat party
We surfed fun Macaronis one afternoon with a group of Aussies, and then held a full-out, hell-on-wheels party. By the end of the night we were all diving from the third storey of the Budyahadri. Thomas manned up for an epic, third-storey, front flip, face flop. We all suffered a few swift kicks to the face underwater, and we all narrowly escaped great pain when someone launched a watermelon from the darkness above. This was our one and only party night, so we fully committed, and shut the night down with a moonlit dance-off to rock gods The Stooges.
We didn’t expect much on our return to the Playgrounds area, but since our last visit here the trip’s wave intensity had moved upwards a few degrees. Our approach was melodramatic. A few of us played cards, while others nursed hangovers and zoned-out to movies downstairs. As we sat idle in the channel caddy-corner to the Rifles break, we could see a few heads out surfing slightly overhead slop. Kassia, Dane and I decided to mosey on down a few islands to a right I’d been hoping to surf the entire trip. It was the one and only right we got to log, so Kass and I made the most of our small-wave fortune. We played a game of longboard Horse to keep things interesting … she’d kick five or hang heels, then I’d stick some and lose some, and all in all we had a blast on yet another log nook with no takers.
On the way back to the Budyahadri, Kass spotted a left reef pass in between two islands. As usual, she spazzed out and jumped ship. We named the wave Kass Pass, because she logged more hours out there than all of us combined. The reef was a short paddle from the boat, so in between card games or movies a couple of us would paddle out to catch a few waves, and Kass would be like, “Dude, it’s soooo ssiiiiicckkk out here, you guys are blowing it”. True to form, Kass got a lion’s share of waves and images from Kass Pass, and the rest of us got a good amount of snorkel time and relaxation points.
With a twist of the stern, Captain Baron set course for our overnight return to the mainland. We packed our scattered belongings and dove into one last communal meal. Our experience had been so rich in surf, camaraderie and natural beauty that it seemed we had been daydreaming all along. As we ate and drank, Bevo decided to toast our trip’s good fortunes. “Here’s to an epic group, who brought more surfboards aboard the ship, surfed more hours than any group previous, and drank the least amount of beers.” We erupted into laughter and thanked our hard-working crew, Indonesia, and Thomas, for bringing us all together. As we later parted ways and made our way back to everyday life at home, it’s safe to say that many of us were still buzzing from this once in a lifetime journey at sea.
- Chris Del Moro
We surfed fun Macaronis one afternoon with a group of Aussies, and then held a full-out, hell-on-wheels party. By the end of the night we were all diving from the third storey of the Budyahadri. Thomas manned up for an epic, third-storey, front flip, face flop. We all suffered a few swift kicks to the face underwater, and we all narrowly escaped great pain when someone launched a watermelon from the darkness above. This was our one and only party night, so we fully committed, and shut the night down with a moonlit dance-off to rock gods The Stooges.
We didn’t expect much on our return to the Playgrounds area, but since our last visit here the trip’s wave intensity had moved upwards a few degrees. Our approach was melodramatic. A few of us played cards, while others nursed hangovers and zoned-out to movies downstairs. As we sat idle in the channel caddy-corner to the Rifles break, we could see a few heads out surfing slightly overhead slop. Kassia, Dane and I decided to mosey on down a few islands to a right I’d been hoping to surf the entire trip. It was the one and only right we got to log, so Kass and I made the most of our small-wave fortune. We played a game of longboard Horse to keep things interesting … she’d kick five or hang heels, then I’d stick some and lose some, and all in all we had a blast on yet another log nook with no takers.
On the way back to the Budyahadri, Kass spotted a left reef pass in between two islands. As usual, she spazzed out and jumped ship. We named the wave Kass Pass, because she logged more hours out there than all of us combined. The reef was a short paddle from the boat, so in between card games or movies a couple of us would paddle out to catch a few waves, and Kass would be like, “Dude, it’s soooo ssiiiiicckkk out here, you guys are blowing it”. True to form, Kass got a lion’s share of waves and images from Kass Pass, and the rest of us got a good amount of snorkel time and relaxation points.
With a twist of the stern, Captain Baron set course for our overnight return to the mainland. We packed our scattered belongings and dove into one last communal meal. Our experience had been so rich in surf, camaraderie and natural beauty that it seemed we had been daydreaming all along. As we ate and drank, Bevo decided to toast our trip’s good fortunes. “Here’s to an epic group, who brought more surfboards aboard the ship, surfed more hours than any group previous, and drank the least amount of beers.” We erupted into laughter and thanked our hard-working crew, Indonesia, and Thomas, for bringing us all together. As we later parted ways and made our way back to everyday life at home, it’s safe to say that many of us were still buzzing from this once in a lifetime journey at sea.
- Chris Del Moro
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For our latest online board test featuring video reviews and expert opinion on six longboard designs click here.
www.australianlongboarding.com.au
For our latest online board test featuring video reviews and expert opinion on six longboard designs click here.
www.australianlongboarding.com.au
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