LEARNING TO SURF IN BALI

It’s fitting that I should take up the journalism job at this juncture of our jaunt (you can write 10 novels and not be able to alliterate like that. Tighten your straps) as one of the moments I have long thought about finally arrived. Roughly twelve months ago, when the idea of this trip had been locked in, a great dreaming took place with any practical or safety considerations totally passed over. I intend for this year to be filled with the four of us taking up new challenges as a family. 

One of those challenges was learning to surf. I created great visions in my mind of us all throwing high-fives as we ran across the white sand and charged in to the waves, shortly thereafter catching beautiful barrels. The sun slowly setting in the backdrop. My hair was very similar to Brad Pitt’s in ‘Legends of the Fall’. The dream continued to develop through our first month in the cold northern hemisphere, though once we reached Bali and it became time to switch from dreaming to action, the realities started to eat away at my mental opus.  

On a beach trip the day before we were reminded just how careful we need to be with Alex in the water, having watched her jump off a paddle board in water far too deep for her and fail to make any progress in paddling back to shore. How easily she could have silently slipped under the water. Scary stuff. The beaches near us didn’t look ideal for surfing, with plenty of rubbish. Alex was saying she didn’t want to go and my hair wasn’t growing fast enough. I sent a few messages to surf schools, but never really committed. I was pretty close to writing the whole idea off.  

And then randomly this week while looking at Airbnb for an apartment in Den Haag, an advertisement for a surf school in Bali popped up and I bit at it like a mangey bali beach dog. Two emails later we were locked in to do a family lesson in 24hrs time.

We made our way to the beach, being picked up by our teachers on 4 scooters. That was an adventure as far as the kids were concerned already. The beach looked spectacular and the juices started pumping . My dying dream took a little breath. Expert coaches Timo, Jackie and John kitted us up with zinc, rashies and boards. We now had everything we needed barring a bit of know-how.

 

The four of us listened intently as the masters went through in detail the techniques they wanted us to apply. Alex tried to absorb the concept of left and right, Jimmy already knew everything so instead role-played his best manoeuvres. Faye and I became sponges, taking in every detail and analysing in great depth. The theory session took about 4mins. It felt underdone to tell you the truth, though apparently, we were now schooled. So, we hit the water.  

Now at this point I pulled the kids' teachers aside and made it clear that I’m not too bothered whether they get vertical, just that they are still alive at the end. They nodded the nod you get when someone doesn’t understand but if they smile and nod, hopefully you will do the same and walk away. I needn’t have worried. 

As Faye and I made our way out to the ‘bigger’ waves I turned back and saw both Jimmy and Alex stand up and take a little ride on their first attempt. They both still looked a little terrified, though this little bit of success straight away was enough for them both to get right in to it.

Faye and I were then lined up for a small wave by Jackie the Super Coach and pushed gently in the right direction. With a technique that caused Jackie to rear like a startled brumby, I'm proud to say that the 6 ft 4 baby giraffe rose up and rode towards the shore. I think I heard someone on the beach say, ‘is that Miki "Da Cat" Dora?”, but it may also have been  “could he pick a wave any smaller?”

Focus now moved to Faye, who was starting to look as though some really key joints were fusing up. Jackie threw his hands in the air and bellowed a few times as he watched Faye rise and fall in quick succession. Less than half an hour later, she’d cracked it. Taking waves all the way to the beach at will. In fact, the only low moment of the whole day came when Faye ‘dropped in’ on me. A very aggressive act and actually quite hard to do when you’re both chasing 2ft of white water. “Back off Warchild, seriously” I quipped, flipped her the bird and we got back to it.  

What followed was another 90 mins of bliss as we all caught wave after wave, getting a little more confident each time. When it was time to call it a day, the kids splashed about in the waves a little longer and I downed a couple of the best tasting Bintangs I suspect I’ll ever drink. 

My image hadn’t been matched pixel for pixel, but the emotion was so much more than I’d imagined. It couldn’t have gone better. The satisfaction lingered late in to the night as we enjoyed a great family dinner out. As we talked up our achievements, it was evident we were all desperate to keep learning, so we’ll be back there next week. 

Until then…Vaya con Dios