When I was there, I was just running from beach to beach, driving my scooter like a maniac, sneaking in between two or three other bikes, hiding between two trucks to evade a police check, climbing up on the sidewalk to avoid a congested street. I was only worried about getting in the water as fast as possible.
How is the tide looking? What about the winds? Where is there good swell today? Did you try the East side today? Nah, don’t bother, the wind is onshore. Is Nusa Dua good? I dunno, but I had a blast at the Green Bowl yesterday. But the winds have changed so… Ulu, Ulu, Ulu… Everybody talked about Uluwatu like just another local break. The legendary Ulu, that picks up swell from all directions. Ulu, which breaks even when all other spot across Bali are dead. Ulu, with its imposing cave entrance. Ulu, with its shallow reef. Ulu, with its super fast lefts.
The stairs leading down to the Uluwatu cave
Before arriving in the Bukit, I had never seriously thought about surfing Ulu, being intimidated by its fame, by the number of pros who surf it every day, by the many locals, and by its shallow reef. But by Thursday, all the conditions seemed right: I was staying at a homestay less than five minutes away; Ulu was the only break still working; I wanted to surf, I needed to surf. I could either face the most legendary wave in Bali or stay on land, maybe do some tourism. At that point, with my back against the wall, my choice was easy.
To get to the water you go down some stairs through the jungle until you get to the maze of warungs (small eateries) and surf shops on the cliff overlooking the beach. You need to find your way to the steep stairs that lead to the entrance of the cave. Then you cross the cave until you reach a little bay. You cannot see the main peak from inside the cave, which makes you feel better: you don’t see how big the crowd is out there in the water.
I didn’t have reef booties, only winter booties. As I sat in the bay, waxing my board, I kept an eye on the other surfers going in or out of the water. I noticed that a few were bare-footed, so I decided to give it a try, as I did not want to surf in bath-like warm water with booties. This meant I had to start paddling almost as soon as I entered the water, as I could not walk on the reef. The water was so shallow that my fingers were getting scratched against the reef but that only made me paddle harder.
Finally I reached some deeper water. I looked up to the left and there it was! Ulu was pumping. The main peak was populated by pros and experienced locals. These guys were unbelievably good. But I didn’t have time to stare as the waves were breaking right in front of me. I just needed to get over the breaking line. One last hard paddle and I made it, I was in the lineup. I barely had time to catch my breath when I realized the next wave was peaking my way. I was in the best position for it (which means I had priority for it, other surfers would not try to drop in on the wave if they saw me paddle for it), so I turned around, paddled as hard as I could and I caught it. My first wave at Ulu! I turned the first corner, but then got tangled up later down the wave and was smacked against the reef. I resurface right away, got a hold of the board and paddled back out. The adrenaline was pumping through my veins. Anytime you paddle into a new lineup, people judge you by your first wave. Wipe out or make a wrong move and you will not be allowed to catch another wave. But I had an awesome ride. I was thrilled.
By the time I took these pics in the early afternoon, Ulu was getting really small
Unfortunately, every other wave I caught after that, I could not stand on. I seemed to have lost my balance. I stayed out there until almost sunset then finally paddled back in, disappointed with myself. When I got back to the cave, though, I realized what the problem was: when the board had hit the reef the middle fin came off. The fin box was all cracked up. I realized that I would not have enough time to fix it before I left Bali. But I could not surf a semi-gun with only two fins. I was terribly disappointed.
That night as my ear infection was getting worst, my cold as well, I felt the blues. The physical exhaustion from surfing everyday, as much as eight hours a day, for a week straight was settling in. But above all else, I was depressed because I didn’t have a board. Even if I could somehow fix it, the swell was too small for a semi-gun.
The cliffs overlooking the break
The next morning, though, I put these concerns to the side, jumped on my bike and drove back to Kuta, to try to either fix the board or sell it, and get another one more fit to the conditions. When I arrived in Kuta, though, nobody wanted to buy my board. Surf shop owners kept telling me they had no need for a big wave gun during Bali’s small waves season. After trying a few shops, I drove over to the Tomato surf shop. Here I had made friends with the owner a few nights earlier when we played video games together (the famous PES/Winning Eleven football game). I knew if anybody would buy the board it would be him. And I was right! After some negotiating, I was able to sell him the board for half the price but I also got from him a fat, wide shortboard, excellent for the present conditions.
My next stop was the pharmacy, where I got some drops for my ear infection. No way I would let it stand in the way of my surfing! After downing an avocado juice (try one next time you go to Bali!) in a small side street warung, I speeded back to the Bukit, eager to try out my new board. That afternoon I had a really fun session at Ulu. The waves were not too big, but with the new board I could catch a lot of them. The crowd, though, was still big. That evening I stayed out in the water well past sunset. As I paddled back in, I only had the lights of the warungs on the cliff to guide me back to the cave entrance. Not being familiar with the landscape at night, I was worried about missing it since the current can be quite strong in front of it. I did not want to spend a night out in the ocean! I eventually found my way back into the cave, where I was greeted by the squeaking sounds of hundreds of bats, who had come alive as the sun disappeared into the ocean.
The following day was my last at Ulu. Hoping to beat the crowd, I drove there the next morning at 6 am with Damien, a French surfer who was also staying at my homestay. As we descended into the cave, the first rays of the sun light our way. We eagerly paddle out, only to find five other surfers who had already beat us. But only seven people in the water is still considered a luxury at Ulu! However, by the second wave I rode, that number increased to at least fifteen. Neither Damien nor I wanted to fight for waves that morning, so we agreed to paddle out to the farthest peak where two other surfers seemed to have a lot of fun (there are four peaks at Ulu).
The paddling was long, but well worth it: the wave was stronger and, of course, a lot less crowded. However, it was also much shallower. When a big wave rolled in, it sucked the water almost completely off the reef. Damien paid for it with a hole in his brand new board, which forced him to paddle back to shore. I stayed behind and enjoyed the waves all by myself. The main problem here, beyond the shallow reef, was the strong current. After about two hours, my arms were so tired that I reluctantly let the current take me back towards the main peak, which was heavily populated by that time. As the tide was dropping, the water was getting shallower and shallower and the quality and size of the waves was dropping. At last my arms gave up. Drained of all strength, I was forced to paddle back in. All in all, that morning I surfed Ulu for over four hours straight.
Dude pulls into a mini-barrel
