He sat alone out the back waiting for that bittersweet last wave in, silently praying it would be the one to cap off the best day’s surfing he’d ever had. The sun was about to sink below the horizon and it had been a great day for the lucky few who had surfed this tropical paradise.
The forecast for the following day was even more promising as the swell was predicted to build from the 6 footers he had been enjoying today to up to 12 feet for tomorrow. Expectations were high. You could already feel the strength of the waves increasing as the tide surged in over the reef. There had been amazing sets the whole afternoon, each one that little bit bigger than the one before. The waves were breaking with mechanical precision over the coral lined bottom, again and again, with long, hollow sections peeling off leaving him with his mouth agape and his throat hoarse after hooting at the top of his lungs. He had been out for more than five hours in the water that day, taking with him some of the best waves of the session. At the end of each ride, he had to take care not to fall, as the razor sharp reef was only a few centimeters below the surface of the shimmering tropical waters. One false move could have seen his surf trip come to an abrupt and bloody end, if not fatal.
Getting out the back was a tricky operation. At low tide the reef was out of the water for a couple of hundred meters or so. As a precaution against reef cuts to his feet, Xabi wore a bootie on one foot, which he later tucked into his short sleeved wetsuit while he surfed. He always got nervous when crossing the reef, thinking about the deadly coral snakes which were teaming on this particular part of the coast. One bite from one of these swift amphibious reptiles and he’d be dead in half an hour, not to mention the myriad other nasties the reef also harboured, which could also send him writhing in agony to his grave.
Back on the beach, he could make out Benett and Chat, two huge Americans, walking back to the camp. They were about to enter the forest and Xabi could see that they were hurrying to try and avoid the bites of the mosquitoes. At that time of the day they start to get annoying. There would be hundreds of them, buzzing through the rainforest and attacking him from all directions. Apart from driving anyone nuts, they also carried malaria. Xabi didn‘t take any anti malaria pill, but covered himself with pants and a long sleeved hoodie from sunset on. He watched the guys take the small path in between the trees and then looked over his shoulder to see the next set was about to come through. He turned and began paddling as three flawless lines were starting to form about 50 meters out from him. He paddled out to meet them, just a little further out than before as this set looked to be slightly bigger again than the previous one.
He let the first wave pass under him, positioned himself for the second one and started paddling towards shore. The 8 foot, glassy wall started to jack up as it began to feel the reef shallow under it. There was a 200 meter long section ahead of him that begged to be ridden. As it stood up to its full height and began to break, the sun shone through the back of the wave. The crystal water acted as a prism, and for a split second time stood still as all the colours of the rainbow shot through a sea of turquoise. As he stood up, he instinctively, yet casually crouched as the wave engulfed his hunched form and began reeling off down the line. He made the section only altering his line with subtle adjustments to come out in a haze of spray as the thing spat him out. He cut out and without thinking twice paddled back out for another last wave.
The next set was taking a little longer than he liked and it was getting dark quickly now. Sharks hunt at dusk and he shuddered to think of one attacking him in that moment. Here in this part of Indonesia, there where enormous tiger sharks, as well as the ever hungry reef sharks.
He centered his thoughts as the last set of the day came in. He got into position to get the first wave. The water around him was dark green now and he thought about how much he loved to surf at dusk, despite the obvious risks. Seeing less would enhance his other senses, and he would get a stronger feel of the water caressing his skin. After the final wave, he paddled to the shore, put his bootie on, and got to his feet to get over the reef section. The way back to shore was easier as the tide was getting higher and had covered most of the reef. As he walked in the sand, he noticed how loud the rainforest was. You could hear thousands of insects buzzing, strange noises from exotic birds and the loud call of monkeys. There were still tigers in that part of Java, although he hadn’t seen one yet.
Night had fallen and there was no moon. He could barely see a few meters in front of him. He thought he recognized the path and hurried to enter it, but got stuck in a bunch of leaves and branches. Again on the beach, he started to run a bit to see if he could locate the entrance. He saw a light far in the distance and ran toward it, but only to see it belonged to a boat fishing in the distance. It was then that he realized he was lost.
The tide was still rising and there were only a few meters of sand left between the sea and the forest. The mosquitoes were getting really annoying, and he was only wearing boardshorts and the bootie. To avoid them, he could spend the night in the water, but the thought of coral snakes and sharks didn’t make it very appealing. He started to run again, deciding to have a further look. Some time later he was feeling terrible seeing how the rising tide was sucking at the whole beach. Then he saw a light again. It was the fisherman. He shouted at them and they came towards him. Once they arrived to the beach back from their fishing trip, he talked to them but they didn’t know any English. They were friendly and he decided to follow them anywhere they went as the tide was now high and he had no place to go. They took off on a small motorbike and waited for him from time to time so as he could catch up as he ran behind them on their way through the forest. They arrived to a place with a few shacks and he understood these guys were working on the construction of a road through the forest. One of them spoke a bit of English and told him he could stay with them for the night as the way back to the surf camp through the forest would take 3 to 4 hours. It would take less than half this time walking along the beach at low tide in the morning.
They gave him a bowl of rice, which he ate hungrily, and he suddenly felt exhausted as the adrenalin wore off as well as after 6 hours of surfing and an hour running up and down the beach. They offered him a place to sleep and as luck would have it they had a spare mosquito net for him. Just before going to sleep, he checked his feet to see that on his uncovered foot it was infested with bites. At that stage, malaria was far from his mind as he was just grateful not to have to spend a night alone, unprotected, in the forest.
The next morning they took him back to the surf camp. As they arrived, people started shouting at him and came to hug him. His entire surf camp and the two other neighboring surf camps had been looking for him many hours that night. They had given him up for dead. Amazingly, he didn’t catch malaria, and he will always remember that crazy night in G-Land, and vows never to paddle back out again after catching that last one in.
Text by Clémence Charvériat, reviewed by Adam Staffordtye.
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