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The first time I had a chance to go to the Mentawais was way back in 1992, the trip Tom Carroll, Ross Clarke-Jones and some mutual friends did on the Indies Trader before it was a charter boat and when only a handful of people knew about the waves up there. The crew on that original trip were the only surfers in the Mentawais at the time, experiencing a sense of isolation and adventure that few surfers will ever share, surfing perfect waves, never knowing what lay around the next corner.
| | A windswept isle. | Photo: Dave Sparkes |
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For reasons I can no longer remember, I didn't make it on to that trip and I didn't make it up there until 1997. By that stage the surf charter business was growing quickly and the days of scoring waves with only your fellow boat passengers were gone with usually another one, maybe two boats anchored off the best breaks. Of course, things have changed dramatically over the past decade, with the once-secret islands being the most photographed and filmed surf studio in the world. The result is land camps, dozens of boats and 40 surfers out at some of the breaks. For the Mentawais, the days of being Mysto Indo are long gone.
Fortunately the world is a big place and there are still plenty of virgin and uncrowded waves to be surfed. When I heard that the original Indies Trader was again on a voyage of discovery, this time searching for waves within a group of 100 islands in the Pacific, I wasn't going to repeat my mistake of 1992. The surf potential of the islands is vast, and little is known. Distance and a history of military no-go areas in the islands has restricted any surf exploration over the past 50 years so it means the opportunity to surf new waves in pristine tropical waters with absolutely no other surfers other than those you are with still exists. I wasn't going to let it pass. It is the surfing dream.
| | Sick set up, empty pits | Photo: Dave Sparkes |
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The Indies wasn't plying a 10-day charter in the hope of getting some good waves. It was on a three-month mission. We'd find good waves.
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Rewards
They say you have to work for your rewards. Well, it applied to this trip, with the journey from Sydney a stop-start affair of Pacific island hopping that took 26 hours to reach the island port where the Indies Trader was waiting. The town was typical of an island urban environment, dusty, ramshackle buildings, street-side stalls, electronic stores (there's always at least two), rows of neatly swept bungalows and a bar that is the watering hole for a group of expats from all over the world.
It was here, over a couple beers and fresh prawns, that Ben Dunn, Adam Wickwire and Karl Ramey excitedly told me about a ledging right they'd discovered a day earlier. They nearly sailed right by it, but only checking it closely on the insistence of photographer Jon Frank.
Franky can be like that - it is usually easier to give in. This time he was right as the wave was a big open barrel they called Maybes.
"As far as we know we're the only guys to ever surf it," Frank told me. "You've gotta love that."
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They'd been out on the boat for a few weeks, their tales of great waves, no people and islands of untouched beauty only tempered by the wind and the 18-hour boat trip from hell we were about to endure to reach the outer atolls. "You'll get seasick for sure," said Ben with a disconcerting amount of glee in his tone.
"Nah, you'll be right mate," a gravely voice said from behind me. "As long as you don't vomit in your bunk."
I turned to see an old Burleigh Heads boy, Tony "Doris" Eltherington, a surfer/shaper and a great goofy-footer who featured in a number of mid-70s surf movies. It turned out he was our skipper. "Doris, haven't seen you for a while."
"Probably 15 years," he answered. "What have you been up to?"
| | A unique split look at the reef and Ben Dunn pulling in above it. | Photo: Dave Sparkes |
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Amnesia
We left port the next afternoon, heading west. It was the only time I've been on a surf trip where I really had no idea where I was going. It was a great feeling. The next day I woke at dawn. It had been a long night sailing, the motor clunking incessantly as the boat lurched in the uneven wind swell. In the brightening light I vainly searched the horizon for any sight of land. Doris reckoned it would take 12 hours to reach our first destination, an atoll where they'd recently discovered a good right. We'd been at sea for 11 hours and the wind was howling through the rigging. The rest of the crew was still asleep, the exception being Paul the Pom, an exuberant character who edits the French-based Surf Europe magazine.
"Birds," he said, pointing to a couple of sea terns to the west. "That means we're within two hours of land."
To my surprise it turned out he knew his stuff, as the distant shade of land was visible 30 minutes later. Who'd have thought an English surf journo would know about the ocean?
| | Ben Dunn well and truly shacked. | Photo: Dave Sparkes |
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By now the boat was alive with chatter as the morning coffee kicked in and the talk turned to surf. As the first of the islands drew closer and we could see the reef, it was obvious the waves were small. We motored by the first island, deciding to head to the next island, which is open to more swell. The break was dubbed Amnesia because the skipper is the only one who can remember how to get there. Unfortunately it was very small, the high tide dragging one- to two-foot waves across the reef.
However after all the travelling we'd done to get here, the water was too enticing, luring us over the side for a swim and a snorkel through the aqua waters to the beach. The clarity of the water was incredible, the bottom clearly visible even though the water was 100 feet deep. The reef surrounding the island was alive, tropical fish darting in and out of the colourful coral while two small reef sharks cruised the edge in deeper water.
| | Tom styling off the bottom. | Photo: Dave Sparkes |
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On the beach a couple of young kids sat under a tree watching as we made our way to shore. As we approached they shyly moved a little further back towards the jungle. They don't get many visitors here and up until a few weeks earlier, they'd never seen surfers or surfing. We were soon joined by their father who told us that they were the only family living on the island - just he and his wife, two sons and toddler daughter. He asked for smokes, telling me he's almost run out. I couldn't help him. I never found out what they did every day.
Out in the water Tom Curren was paddling to the lineup on an 8'6" longboard. He took off on a wave, stood and turned straight into a drop-knee cutback, before setting his trim and lightly walking towards the nose, his timeless style perfectly suited to the wave and the surfboard. It was the perfect way to clear the cobwebs after the long-haul travel involved from California. Tom and Stephanie Gilmore had joined the boat for a week and watching them surf was to be a highlight.
| | Adam Wickwire’s backhand tuberiding came into its own on this trip as it was all about righthanders. Most of the lefts discovered were blown out, but would no doubt pump outside the trade wind season. | Photo: Dave Sparkes |
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Tuna Tales
The crew pulled up the anchor about an hour before dark, Doris telling us there was a good overnight anchorage a few miles to the south that was to be our nightly base for a week as we checked out the surf potential in the area. The lures were cast and the fishing competition began.
It wasn't long until the first rod started spinning and Big Neil, one of the crew, put down his beer and leapt into action. We could see the silver shape darting in and out of the boat's wake a hundred yards off the stern. Neil was putting in a solid effort on the rod, beads of sweat bubbling on his ample girth as he worked the fish closer to the boat. It looked a good size and as he brought it to the side of the boat we could see it was a big eye tuna.
| | Dinner | Photo: Dave Sparkes |
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This was the tricky bit and we didn't want to lose the first catch of the trip. Fortunately, the deckhand was ready with the gaff and, to cheers all round, effortlessly hooked the fish on to the deck. Andre, the boat's Australian chef was on the spot to quickly put the fish out of its misery, filleting knife at the ready.
"Fresh sashimi at sunset tonight boys," he called with a gleam in his eye.
Cold beer, freshly caught tuna and a multi-coloured tropical sunset without another boat in sight. This is what a surfing trip is all about. We just needed waves the next morning and things would be perfect.
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We anchored inside the lagoon, protected from the swells by a large island where the fires were still burning at dawn. A village of around 60 people lived there, living a subsistence life where fish, coconuts and some trade in copra were the staples of life. It was a beautiful place and in the dawn light the smoking fires, kids on the beach and canoes being paddled in the calm waters looked like an idyllic scene from one of Gauguin's Tahitian paintings.
As we sailed off the conversation turned to the people and we couldn't help but wonder about their lives. Were they happy with the simplicity of it or did they crave the materialism, entertainment and bustle of the modern world? I suppose if they surfed it would be paradise.
| | Local grommies... simple lives but big smiles. | Photo: Dave Sparkes |
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The call had been made to check out a reef pass a little further south. The wind, which had been blowing incessantly since we left the main island two days ago, had eased a little overnight. When we arrived at the pass, an un-named but very workable right was peaking on the outside. The left on the other side of the pass was getting more swell, but was wind-affected and shutting down. Apparently it gets pretty good in the right conditions.
Stephanie Gilmore was first into the water and picked off a couple of quick ones, working out the set-up and carving some solid turns before pulling into a little barrel on the inside. One by one she was joined by the rest of the crew and after about 30 minutes the swell kicked in and regular four-foot sets poured through, the outside section opening up for some big turns before the waves picked up speed on the shallower inside reef, finally allowing one last cutback before it ran out of speed in deeper water. It was a long wave and looked like it'd handle a bigger swell.
| | Island Sunsets | Photo: Dave Sparkes |
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A bloke named Kevin...
That afternoon we surfed Amnesia again. It was mid-tide when we paddled out and the wind had backed off. The waves were three feet with occasional bigger sets. It is a great set-up, the take-off next to a shallow rock before the reef flattens out, allowing the wave to run across before hitting an inside bowl. It is a fun wave, very rippable and reminded me of Swimming Pools off Namoto Island in Fiji.
The reef looks shallower than it is, although at low tide there's a chance of running dry on the last section, especially if you have to straighten out. Like most reefs in this part of the Pacific, it is healthy and alive, the colours off the bottom reflecting in the lip, so you are surrounded by them. It's like surfing in an aquarium.
One afternoon a small dinghy motored up to the boat as we set anchor for the night. A bearded white guy, aged in his 60s, was driving it.
| | Copra is the mainstay for the locals. | Photo: Dave Sparkes |
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His name is Kevin and he has been living in the islands for 40 years, first arriving as a member of the Peace Corp in the 1960s. Throughout that time he has had businesses on the main island, taught English, written a history on the place and done a lot of fishing.
His hometown is Boston, but he only returns there for about 10 weeks a year. He now lives on one of the outer atolls, his own island given to him by the local king as thanks for all the work he has done for the local people. Kevin is an interesting character and he had a good knowledge of the islands and the ocean. We knew we were there in the windy season but it had been pretty well non-stop for three weeks.
Kevin said it was unusual for the trades to blow all day every day and in his experience it had only been this bad in the past two years. He also said the waves broke all year, ranging in size from two to 12 feet, sometimes bigger. The mind boggles at the potential.
That night a couple of the locals paddled out with a catch of lobsters that they wanted to trade for fuel. We ended up with 14 lobsters in return for a few gallons of fuel, $15 and two Simpsons DVDs. It was another dinner to remember.
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Nirvana
Every day offered something new, but towards the end of the trip one morning in particular stood out when we headed north to surf another break. The weather was partly overcast with occasional rainsqualls moving in out of the east, casting a soft golden light and the beauty of the island as we approached was amazing. It has been dubbed Nirvana and the name says it all, the atoll surrounded by white sands, covered with tropical foliage of yellow and varying green hues and a clean four-foot right peeling down the reef. Besides the eight surfers on the boat, the nearest surfer was a thousand miles away.
| | Wicks finding Nirvana in this backhand pit. |
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This was a surfer's dream, the image school kids have been drawing on their books for years. The wind had dropped and was blowing straight offshore, it was mid- tide, heading low and while the take-off was shallow and a little sketchy at times, there were plenty of clean barrels and open sections for big turns. Doris scored some nice waves, winding off the top with a smooth style. He is 50 but has the sinewy fitness and strength that comes with a lifetime on the ocean.
Everyone was catching waves but, not surprisingly, the session belonged to Curren. Watching him close-up was a privilege, the subtleties of his technique quite amazing as he generates speed and power from an ankle flex or by redirecting his knee. His speed out of the top, tight-arc rebounds to finish a full-rail cutback and instinctive tube-riding is ... well, he won three world titles and he still surfs way, way, way better than some of the "journeyman" competitors in the top 44.
| | Curren's textbook bottom turn. |
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Throughout the time the Indies was in the area the waves were consistent, ranging from two to six feet and we didn't see any other surfers in two months. The waves are good, maybe not as perfect as Indonesia, but the pristine isolation of place, the unknown and the sense of discovery more than makes up for it. After all, it's what surfing is all about.
-Reggae Ellis
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Surfing World
Issue 286 is on sale now!
The latest issue of Surfing World has just hit the stands and it is a bumper travel issue that will have you looking for your passport. Adventure and chasing perfect waves is the theme as we head to Tahiti, New Guinea, Mexico, the Caribbean and some little known islands somewhere in the Pacific. Interviews with surf explorer Martin Daly and master shaper Mitchell Rae round out another great issue. SW, the Australian surfers’ magazine since 1962.
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Wind, tides, UV ratings, air temps and outlook provided by
