Being There


There I sat in the water. My board underneath me and my stomach bobbing at water surface level. The sun was going down and looked up the point. I was about halfway along the point of Chicama, the worlds longest wave. I was merely taking a break in between rides down the point due to my severe case of jelly legs. I experience these moments in travel when it all feels so detached, as if I am seperated from my body, watching and feeling almost jealous. I forget that this is me that I am watching and not some other person. I call it experiential jetlag. As if my emotions and feeling of self hasn´t caught up with my body.
The days proceeding this were long. Flights were flown half way only to be turned back due to bad weather. I suffered from a lack of sleep and travel fatigue. There was a point when I was so close I could taste the salt water only to have to turn back. But eventually I arrived in Trujillo airport, a mere 10 minutes from the town that I was to spend the next 3 months of my life; Huanchaco.
The cab ride from the airport was too long for my excitement. I had wanted to snap my fingers and be there. My arrival was greeted by my good friend Jeremy, who had been in huanchaco the week before and had sorted everything out. There was a good crew of travelers and vagabonds. Jeremy even managed to make good friends with most of the local surfers. It was as if I had entered into an instant family. The first surf in huanchaco was magical with sunny skies and few people out. The waves were head to overhead and growing. And by the next day the surf had grown enough to render a trip to Chicama, the wave as I mentioned before, the longest left handed wave in the world.
Theoretically, one could surf a wave for a kilometer and a half. But, you better have strong legs and a bit of luck. To ride the wave for a quarter of the distance would render one satisfied with jelly legs. Typically one will catch 3 or 4 waves down the point and then head in and walk back up the point which can take up to 40 minutes when the tide is high or if your legs give out and you have to crawl back. I never measured my sessions in hours or periods of time. It was always measured in how many walks back up the point you did. My record was 5 and I was shattered.

There I sat in the water. The wind had calmed down and the water began to smooth itself out. A few surfers surfed by me catching no doubt what might be the longest waves in their lives. I had trouble taking it all in. It was all too much for me. My emotions were riding high, as if I had reached this seretonan high and my mind just shut down as a defence mechanism to protect my mind from overdosing on emotional chemicals in my brain. In other words, I was having trouble realizing that I was here and that I had arrived and I just couldn´t process it all. It was all too overwhelming.
It was at this detached momentmy good friend Jeremy had surfed by and pulled out right next to me. For years we had talked about making a surf trip happen, but nothing ever worked and we were always on different planes in life doing different things and chasing different dreams. And at that moment we were sitting side by side, floating in foreign waters, surfing perfect waves and smiling.¨I´m so glad you´re here buddy. I can´t believe you made it¨ he said to me. Then as if my consciousness was sucked back into my body and the numbness my body and emotions were feeling slammed into my stomach and spread rapidly from my center. The water went from pins and needles to a coldness. I felt the wind hit the back of my head. The sun was disappearing below an invisible line of haze. I felt all these tiny dropletts of water all over my face. I could feel water currents rushing around my dangling feet. My body went from unltra numb to this heighteneed state of sensativity.
A set approached on the horizon and Jeremy and I watched it peel down the point heading for us. He began to paddle and line himself up. I sat there and let him go. I turned my head to watch him glide through the first few sections. I quickly turned my head almost forgetting the sunset. I caught the last morsel of sunshine as it disappeared through the pink-grey haze. The sky behind me was now turning black. I closed my eyes and took one last feel of everything around me. My board with its wax humps on the deck. The air turning colder from the absence of the sun. smaller waves rolling through and underneath me. I had arrived and I was finally here...

And now for your Sundown Surf Alert Surf Report for the 1st week in August!

Tues-We´ve got light winds with a slight chop coming from the WSW @ 7-10kts. There is a small short period wind swell at about 2feet. It aint looking so hot out there. maybe a fun longboard wave but nothing to get you to ditch work.
Wed- It´s more of the same thing only the wind is coming more from the west at 8-10kts. The swell size is about the same. Oh Well!
Thurs-We should see a slight jump in the surf but it´s not much. the best time will be in the morning. The surf will be in the 3ft range. Thigh high with more westerly winds in the 10-14kt range. Get the fish out and get some small wave skating action going.
Fri- There´s a bit of hope. The wind is gonna switch to the south east in the 8-10kt range. There might be a bit of growth through the day. Not much. The swell is gonna still be in the knee high range and maybe getting a bit bigger. I reckon out east might be your best bet but then again, it´s summer and driving out there is such a pain on a friday.
Sat-The swell is going to get up to 4foot. Look for waist to chest high waves but it is gonna have a bit of chop to it. 15kt winds from the Southeast. It´s a great day to get wet. Get on it!
Sun-It´s gonna drop off again to the 2ft range and the winds die down a bit as well. Straight from the south but light. Get while you can on Sat.

Hope everyone gets some fun waves this week.

Aloha
Tyler Breuer
breuertj@hotmail.com
www.Sundownsurf.com
www.conceptualink.net

Getting There: Part 2

All the window shades were closed. Seats were reclined. Small fleece blanketts were spread over bodies as they slept. The entire airplane was dark except for the no smoking signs that were lit. I felt the plane circle as my head felt weighted towards the right side of the plane. IT felt as if we were on our approach to land. Then the lights beeped on along with the fasten seatbelt sign. The captains voice crackled over the loudspeaker and everyone was startled awake. We were not landing. We had been circling Lima airport for sometime when the announcement was mad that the weather was too foggy to land the airliner. We were making an abrupt turn to the north and heading for Guayaquile, Ecuador where we would refuel and make another attempt at landing in Lima.
Once the plane was stable in the northerly direction I walked up to the front where my new friend Jordan was sititng. I had met her at Atlanta´s International airport. We had a few things in common and I thought she might like osme company. I had a spare seat and I offered her to join me. We sat and talked about he flight and what her plans were after we landed. I knew that we wouldn´t be landing in Lima till atleast 3:30am. A time when most hostels are closed. I had no desire to take a cab to some cheap hostel and be let off and no one answer. Jordan was teaching English in Trujillo and her company had arranged a hotel for her to stay, in the posh district of Mira Flores. I was tired. I had been travelling for more than 24hours. I just wanted some sleep. Landing in a foreign airport and having to deal with hassles and speak spanish, a language that I hadn´t spoken for years, seemed a bit overwhelming. So I did what any good traveler does when they are feeling overwhelmed and not wanting to make any real decisions for themselves. I asked if I could tag along. Maybe the hotel would have a room available for me as well. I knew that Jordan spoke spanish fluently and that would get me atleast from the airport and to a hotel.
We landed in Guayaquile and sat on the runway for an hour while the plane refuelled. Then, moments before the plan was a bout to head on the runway, the captain came on the intercom and siad that the weather had passed but the runway lights in Lima were now not working. He mentioned that we would give it a try anyway and hopefully with a little bit of luck that by the time we reached Lima the runway lights would be working again. Nothing like luck to make a passenger feel safe.
The flight went on and on. We circled Lima. And before I could realize that my ears were popping we had landed.
Passing through customs was brief and finding the bags were no as simple as that. And amzingly all the bags were there and hte boards were in perfect condition. I met up with Jordan. We made our way to a cab and the moment I stepped outside I could smell Lima. It doesn´t hit you at first. It´s more subtle. It smells like most cities. Nothing potent but after a few moments you notice that there is a subtle difference compared to most cities in the western world. There´s a hint of charred garbage.
We found a Cab. Jordan haggled furiously. I felt lame and impotent. Unable to communicate to the best of my ability. I just stood there and looked tough. the cabbie tried to turn and look to me as if to say, ¨Can´t you reason with this woman. You´re the man. You should have the last say!¨ I just stood there. It takes a while for spanish to come back to one. For me, it would take a long time. And at 4am, I was useless. I tied my baords to the roof and off we went to Mira Flores, The swankiest part of Lima. It´s posh but the cab has to pass through the rougher parts of town before you get there. To me it was a reminder at just how much a facade Mira Flores is and how it covers up the true amount of poverty that Peru is dealing with. I also feel the guilt at the excess that I live with.
Slightly dazed and almost feeling drugged, We arrive at the hotel. There´s the full on doorman, bell-hop, concierge ensamble. My guilt raises a notch on my guilt-ometer. I ask for a room. The staff is more than friendly and happy to carry my bags but I won´t let them lift a thing. It was already enough that I was staying somewhere beyond my means and most of South Americas means. I´m actually too embarassed to mention how much the room cost.
Jordan is checked in. She had to get up at 8am for a flight to Arequipa to meet some friends. I tell her I´m going to meet her for breakfast. That was only 4 hours away.
I get to my room. I set my alarm and hit the bed. Only to wake up in what seemed like a few seconds of rest to find the sun out and my alarm buzzing. I stumbled down to breakfast. I sat, surrounded by what I would call the elite of this City. I felt stares all around. I was by no means dressed up. Everywhere I turned people were dressed in suits, and dresses. I looked up at the waiting staff and as much as I´d like to say I identified with them more, I just felt completely out of place. I was a gringo. A fact that you have to come to terms with when you arrive in any Latin American country. As much as one would like to fit in or in my case not stick out, you are foreign and that´s how it will always be. For me, I guess I have this secret egotistical desire to believe that I am different than other gringos or that I can relate to the local people more so than other´s. I don´t know why that is. In reality I´m just some white guy from a rich country who has had all the opportunities in the world. How can I actually believe that I´m more understanding of the working class here than the person next to me. In reality, I think there is a part in a lot of us that would like to believe that we are different than all the rest of the rich tourists and that one might be more sensative to other´s issues like poverty. I´m no different and I have to remind myself of that.
So, in comes Jordan as I´m about half way through my fruit salad. We greet and and She offers to help my purchase my plane ticket to Trujillo, the third largest city in PEru and the City closest to my final destination.
We head to the airport. Jordan checks in and within 10 minutes I have my ticket to Trujillo and I´m one step closer to arriving. I thank Jordan for all of her help. Her flight is called and to be honest it was an uneventful goodbye. Just a quick handshake and a "I´ll see you in Trujillo" send off. And there I stood, alone in the airport surrounded by people, in a country far from home, one step closer to my destination....


And now for this weeks Surf Forecast for the NY Region

Thursday: It´s going to be sick! Light and variable winds with smooth seas. You´ve got a small short period wind waves. The wind is coming from the south very lightly.
Winds: S 4 to 5 knots and the surf, well, it´s gonna be in the 4ft range with a 7 second interval. Get on it! It shouls be heaps of fun all day. The swell will stick around for atleast 2 days, maybe more.
Friday: Again light winds only with a slight chop. It´s going to be coming form the WNW at 10kts. The surf is going to be slightly smaller but still heaps of fun. Just nice summer surf. You know the kind you can go out and have nice crumbly walls to practice your off the lips.
Saturday: More Light winds with a slight chop. The swell is still there but it´s gonna be a bit smaller. Maybe a good day to take out the log. Just a nice summer weekend day with winds coming from the WSW but again, very light. The air might be a little cold but there will be a little wave. The surf is gonna be around knee to waist high. Just a nice day to hang at the beach with the family and then go home for a Barbi.
Sun: It´s looking like that swell is gonna disappear. Not looking to promising. Might be fun still on a log. The wind is gonna kick up out of the SW at 16kts. Might wanna get some chores around the house done.
Mon: It´s looking at around the same as Sunday but the wind dies off a bit but it´s still coming fromt he SW. A good day to go back to work.
Tues: It´s looking pretty dead flat with light SW winds. Oh well, gonna get on the skateboard and go through the motions on asphalt.

Hopefully I´ll be able to get the report to you sooner. Thank you.
Aloha
Tyler Breuer
Breuertj@hotmail.com
www.surftheearth.blogspot.com
www.sundownsurf.com

Getting there: Part 1

¨There´s a kind of luck that´s not much more than being in the right place at the right time, a kind of inspiration that´s not much more than doing the right thing in the right way, and both only really happen to you when you empty your heart of ambition, purpose, and plan. When you give yourself, completely, to the golden, fatefilled moment.¨ -Gregory David Roberts from ¨Shantaram¨

I sat in Atlanta Airport. Tired, stiff and slightly dazed. It was a long night. A longer 24 hours and I was less than halfway through a 72hour day. It all started at 5am on a Saturday in Santa Cruz, California. The day took me from San Francisco and a flight that left early Sunday morning. About half past 12 in the morning to be exact.
I decided to go with the cheapest flight I could get to Lima, Peru. I could´ve gone direct or more direct but cheaper is usually the motto of the budget traveller. I couldn´t help myself. So I went bass ackward across the US. First to Houston with a layover of a few hours. Then to Atlanta, Georgia for a 6hr layover. Only the flight was early from houston giving me an extra hour to twiddle my thumbs.
So after walking the length of the airport a few times and trying to find the most comfortable seats in the airport I decided to randomly sit myself at some random gate in a random part of the airport.
There are moments in life, when the random choices we make without thought and without any perception that we start to see through the randomness and find some sort of order or signs for a path. Over my few weeks in California, coincidences were popping up all over the place. Seeing people who knew random friends from around the world. Certain signs that indicated that heading to South America, Peru and other more exact places I would be heading to would come up or present themselves in a way that seems almost fateful or destined.
Some of these experiences seem to be the universe pushing me along a pathway or reassuring that the decisions I whad been making were leading me to a good place and that I should continue on.
So sitting there in Atlanta of all places I look up to see my good friend Jason Horn and his lovely fiancee Sarah. What good fortune? I had not seen Jason in over two years. He used to live down the road from em in Long Beach and now lives in South Carolina. Warm hugs and a firm handshake later we were sitting having lunch and talking story. It´s easy to forget that the travelling that I do is really special and doubts can sometimes creep into your head. I sometimes think that travelling is just something that I do and I forget how fortunate I really am to be doing what I am doing. The conversation with Jason and Sarah was a quick reminder of my fortune and that this journey is what I was meant to be doing. After catching up with the two of them and passing on the invitation to join me in PEru when they got a chance, they were off to their gates and gone.
I stood in the airport, goosebumps crawled up my neck. I was feeling reassured that this had to be some sign that this is the direction I was supposed to be heading in.
I went to my gate and found most of the seats were taken. I found an outlet on the floor and plugged my ipod in and sat with my back against the wall. I watched the people walk by and crowd around the gate. I noticed a few gringos on hte flight but most looked to be from Peru. Dark skinned with dark hair and mostly short. I noticed a blond girl walking around with a small purple backpack and a ¨Phish¨ badge sown on to it. She walked back and forth. I guessed she was heading down to Peru for summer holidays or something. Probably gonna go to Machu Pichu and hang on the ¨gringo trail¨. She came over to me and saw my ipod plugged in. She asked if she could charge up her´s as well. I made room for her as she plugged in and sat on the otherside of the outlet. She started up the conversation by asking where I was heading. I mentioned the town of Huanchaco. She answered in a southern accent ¨Realy, I work in Trujillo.¨ Trujillo is the 3rd largest sity in Peru and is a bout a 20min. frive from Huanchaco. What a strange coincidence. Her name was Jordan and was teaching english in Turjillo. I took it as another sign or an invisible had to encourage or help me believe that I was going somewhere I was meant to be. but then it got even weirder. I asked where she was from. She mentioned a small island off of Georgia. I asked if it was San Simon. She nodded. I asked if she knew my friend Steve Schwartz. Öh my god, no way!¨She said. Turns out her brother was good friends with him and she used to have big crush on him. It was a bit overwhelming for me to have all of these coincidental events take place over the last few hours. Is this pure luck, random coincidence or a pattern in life that I was begining to see as a picture or a road map.
We boarded the flight. I took my seat and took a moment to reflect. I listened to a mix my friend Pippa had made me. I looked for the message hidden in between the songs she chose. I looked out the window, confindent in my direction and then nodded off...


And now for the New York Surf Report for the days of May 23-25 2006


Tuesday 5/23 Morning
It´s looking like wind blown junk. No significant swell. Just reezy whitecaping conditions with small short period wind waves. Mo better just go do something other than surfing. This part of the week is not looking good to be honest.
Winds: WNW 11 to 15 knots
Seas: NW 1 feet at 3 sec.

Wednesday 5/24 Morning
Not much happening this day. Get a skateboard and practice Bertelman turns on some slanted asphalt.
Winds: WNW 8 to 11 knots
Seas: SE 1 feet at 8 sec.

Thursday 5/25 Morning
Nope! Nada! Sorry. Maybe watch a mellow surf movie that makes you contemplate life and the meaning of surfing.
Winds: SW 4 to 5 knots
Seas: S 1 feet at 3 sec.

By the way, I´m reading this really good book called ¨Waves of Warning¨ by Glen Henning, founder of the Surfrider Foundation. It deals with the conflict Polynesian Culture(namely surfing) and Wall Street and it´s collision course. A very good read and something I recommend for when the surf is flat. Look it up on line.

Aloha

Tyler Breuer
Sundown Surf Alert Surf Report and Travel Journal
surftheearth.blogspot.com
breuertj@hotmail.com

For some it's hard to leave. For other's it's harder to stay and leaving becomes all that they know. I'm of the latter. Leaving home, loved ones, friends, familiarity, comfort, pain, responsibility, duty, and stability. It's not just leaving. It can also be setting off towards something. Maybe it's something tangible like a really good wave, a temple, city, mountain or gallery. More often than not, it's something we can't grasp. An experience or adventure. Sometimes misadventure. Something we hope to grow from. A hope to open the mind and maybe the heart. Along with these intagible goals can come a jadedness and cynicsm. Sometimes making the world look bleaker and more dark. Yet, some of us still pursue in hopes that something positive will come from all this leaving.
I'm sitting typing this two weeks removed from leaving my home in New York. I'm somewhere in California, waiting to get on a twenty hour flight to South America. I'm on the fence whether I'm leaving or going towards something. Maybe this is what the next journey will be for me. To find out if I am just leaving, dare I say running, or am going toward an intangible something. Of course there are a few waves involved as well.

Now, reintroducing the New York Report for the days 4/24-4/27

Monday 4/24
Light winds with sick SSE swell pumping in the chest to head high range. Get on it if you haven't.
Tuesday 4/25
Morning We're looking at light winds with a slight chop on the face in the morning with a small short period wind swell. Looks like a fun day to get on it with winds: West 8 to 10knots Seas: SSE 3 feet at 7 sec. The afternoon should get choppy but there's swell.

Wednesday 4/26
We've got some light winds with a slight chop again on the face. But it's looking pretty small. Not much really happening. Better to go and get some work done. Maybe even sneak off to the gym to get ready for the next swell.
Thursday 4/27
Blah! Not much happening again. WNW winds and pretty much no swell. Keep hope alive for the weekend.

This was the welcome back for the Surf Report and Travel Journal.
Hope everyone enjoys it and enjoys further installments.
comments can be made at www.surftheearth.blogspot.com or go to http://blog.myspace.com/conceptualink
Aloha

Tyler Breuer
Breuertj@hotmail.com

Catching Up After the Season


June 4 2005

In my left hand is a plastic cup filled with a Bordeaux 2002. I’m sitting in some small quaint apartment in the heart of Biarritz for free. It’s a long way from Indonesia, when I last wrote my travel journal. I apologize for my absence. For those who are receiving my first surf report and travel journal, when I last wrote I was in the heart of the Indonesian archipelago far from western comforts and nuisances. I left it there because I felt that the surfing side of my traveling had peaked and to write about being in London and working would not be of great interest.
So how did I get from some random isolated spot in Indonesia to the heart of Euro surf fashion and coolness, Biarritz? A long story with ups and downs and uncertainty that I’ll skim through for now. After Indonesia I decided to go to Perth, Western Australia to follow a girl and maybe get to sample WA’s legendary juicy waves. Let’s just say the girl and I struggled. It’s not easy going from being a feral to being around affluent people in a suburban environment. Also, Perth is not the best city to hang around if you have no real means of transportation and no one to hang with during the day. It’s not a bad city, but I found myself being alone most days with not much to do or see. It was mid winter. A lot colder than the tropics of Indonesia and I was also getting to the end of my money reserves. Oh, about the girl! It didn’t work. It’s a lot easier to be comfortable and confident in yourself when you are on your own turf or mutual ground. Not when you are on someone else’s turf and terms. I’m going to leave it at that for now.
From Perth I spent a long time in transit back tot he UK and foggy London town where I moved in with my brother Jamie and his wife Louise. I began a desperate search for work but apparently finding work in the UK as an illegal has become a lot harder in recent years due to new laws passed to fine businesses with illegal’s working for them. Luckily I had good friends who were able to help. I found myself willing to do anything and type of work for the almighty British Pound. I meant anything! I found myself in a clinic being tested to do drug trials! For those of you who don’t know Pharmaceutical companies will pay big for human guinea pigs to test their drugs on. There was one I almost got that would have paid 3,000 pounds for a month of living in a hospital and taking an anti-depressant drug. I was already to go. It’s not as bad as it sounds. I would have had a month’s free rent with free food, all the DVD’s I could stand, free internet access, beautiful nurses to watch and I could bring in anything I wanted to amuse myself. That meant I could paint, write video edit and do all the creative things I keep making excuses not to do. There I would be so bored I would be forced to be creative. Unfortunately or fortunately I failed my blood test.
So there I was in London, just barely getting by. Not able to really leave my brother’s apartment because every time you leave you spend money. Although I was lucky to have a bunch of good Aussie mates who provided me with beer and cheap laughs and rich times. I was also extremely lucky to have two really good friends who I owe a lot to. Lucinda and Becky are sisters who I met in Morocco a few years back and It is always great to see them. They’re smart, beautiful and full of fun and energy. I could go on writing paragraph after paragraph about how great they are. They were able to get me a job working with them at this company that specialized in team building exercises. What the heck does that mean? Well, the job required an array of skills but paid well. Outdoor days consisted of a group of us setting up an adult like theme part with games and obstacle courses that encouraged people to work together as a team. It was freaking cool! I got to run one of those inflatable boxing rings with those massive boxing gloves and watch people beat the crap out of each other till they both couldn’t hold the gloves up anymore. Other days had me acting in mystery dinner theaters/scavenger hunts. This was the best part of the job. It often included free meals and drink. All I had to do was act like an idiot and take the piss out of people all the while dropping clues and hints for teams to guess who the murderer was. Not bad eh? Those usually paid around 50 pounds for 4-5 hours of goofing around. That's roughly $93-$97. When the work went over 5 hours, the pay jumped to 75 pounds for the day. So I did this all the while having to funnel my pay checks through my brother’s bank account. I was covert and underground. Or at least I like to think I was in my own head.
Winter was coming a lot quicker than I had realized and I had to figure out what was next. My original plan was to do a winter season but I was keeping in contact with the girl from Perth and she was supposed to come out to the UK originally around October. We still had a connection and I was still emotionally involved. We had talked about driving around Europe for a month but London was expensive and work wasn’t frequent enough. I knew inside this girl would not be coming to the UK for a long time. So I decided to that I should do what I had said I was going to do originally and spend the winter in the alps being a ski bum and hopefully get a job as a ski technician or in a bar. Luckily my father does own a ski shop and I have a lot of experience in the ski industry. So I started sending out my C.V. furiously online and one day I got a random call for a ski company in the 3 Valley’s of France. The interview was a long train ridde from London but it was worth it. There I met Simon, beanie capped and a bit posh. We went through what I could do and how willing I was to work. At this point I had the mentality that I was willing to work for peanuts just as long as I had work. It can be a depressing situation when you have no work and nobody is willing to hire you. It does damaging things to your self confidence. My whole life I felt I could get most jobs I applied for. All I had to do was show my University education and work experience and I had jobs. But being illegal changed my view of working and my willingness to work. I wouldn’t winge about work in the past but I have thought to myself at times when I had a steady job that I didn’t want to be there and I really had no appreciation for the work that I had. That all changed with my time in London.
There I was being interviewed by this guy Simon in Portsmouth, Southern UK and I was shitting myself. I hadn’t be that nervous about a job in a long time. This interview was a make it or break it moment for me. If I had not gotten the job I would probably have to pack up and make my way back to NY somewhat dissatisfied and feeling like I had failed to make my own way. I felt that if I had gone home I would forever be dependent on my parents and their connections for work. Not that that is a bad thing but there is something inside me that wants to do things on my own without the help of my parents. Not that they pay for my travels but when I’m home I usually end up working for my dad and living at home rent free. It could be worse but I think there is a satisfaction in knowing that you can do things on your own terms completely independent.
Anyway, I left Portsmouth and Simon with a job as a ski technician in Courchevel Valley, France. Life was sweet and the pressure was off, sort of. When you are illegal you feel a need to prove yourself to your employers. I wanted them to not regret their decision in hiring me. I mean, they were taking a chance with me. I could’ve made up all the experience I had put on my C.V. I was to start at the beginning of Dec. and it was mid October when I got the job. I had been paid by my other job a good sum of money and so I decided to do something with it instead of slowly waste it in London.
A couple of eventful but fun things happened between the interview and work in the Alps. First was the leaving of NSW Brad and the arrival of Logan and Kiwi Brad. NSW Brad was a good mate from Australia whom I met in Morocco a few years back. He had been in London for sometime and was there when I was there. He was my lifeline to an incredible group of people who became my friends. This man is a legend amongst travelers and surfers. He really could dive into a pile of shit and come out smelling like roses. You could put him in the worst situation and he will make the best of it. It’s not luck or just good fortune, it’s his attitude that makes it alright. NSW Brad rarely forces things and to be hanging with him in London was one of the best times of my life. Having him leave the European continent was sad for me. It felt like an ending of an era for one of the best travelers I had ever met. But I suspect he will be hitting the road again one day soon.
The arrival of Logan and Kiwi Brad to London is an event that is not to be missed. These two are either extremely lucky or extremely unlucky. There is no middle ground. If I were to write some of the stories about these guys, people would not believe me. They’d say I was making it all up. I’ve seen it first hand and sometimes it’s like watching a train wreck in slow motion and other times it’s like watching your favorite team win a championship event. Brad is the darker of the two in looks. His hair is brown and his skin and blood is of Maori heritage. Logan is blond and pale with an exceptional skill for playing guitar. Both are good looking and charismatic. They had been traveling from Greece to London. Brad was working there doing promotions for parties and at times doing some risky filming. Don’t ask anymore. Logan flew out to meet Brad and the two started out their trip on the high and ended on a low. The debaucherie shall remain nameless. The luck changing from extremely good to extremely bad happened somewhere in Croatia. In a flat involving a local girl, a “roast meal” of sorts and angry siblings busting down a door and choking Brad.
By the time they had got to London, their money was now in the minus category, a job they were promised and free place to stay was non-existent. So what did they do. They went on a bender and drank themselves into further debt for a week straight. When I saw them they had been hollowed out and left somewhat desperate and disillusioned. Logan had a girlfriend in St. Maurice which is in the French Alps and she was to be working in Courchevel for the winter. Logan decided he was going to go back to be with her and see if he could get it together to stay for the season. Her company provided her with a free place to stay right in the heart of it all. So, one obstacle was out of the way for Logan. Brad was feeling a bit more hopeless. Both made their way back to the Alps but after a week of searching for work, brad gave up and headed back to New Zealand.
The reason I included the story of these two was because Logan was now going to be in Courchevel for the season along with me and he had a major impact on my season in the alps…
To be continued
Next report will delve into the lifestyle of a seasonaire in the French Alps.

"The Way"


I stood on the edge of the "Camp" watching the ocean. The surf had jumped. The winds were light and the sun had not come up yet. I retreated and had a coffee. Bergs was up as well. "Do you think 'The Way' will be breaking?" I asked. He looked out at the surf. His forehead crinkled as he thought for a good long minute or two. In that time I realized I might get my first surf at "The Way." The thought excited me and scared me. It would be Bergs first time there as well. I think part of me wanted him to say that he didn't think it would be good, that it wasn't big enough or the tide wasn't right.
"You know Tyler, I think it could be good. I think we should give it a go!" Bergs said with an optimistic, almost nonchelance about it all. As if we were going to surf some beachbreak. It was on!
We decided to wait another half hour for Ross and Damo from town to show up and see if they were keen as well. They had a car and a driver and knew how to get there. If they didn't show, Bergs and I had a vague description of where to turn off but we would be reliant on public transport and that was not always the best option.
A half hour past and there was no Ross or Damo. Bergs' son Heath had decided to sleep in. He was suffering from a sea urchin puncture to his foot that had got a bit infected. It was always a laugh when all of the boys would gather around Heath's foot in the arvo to pick it clean with tweezers, needles, scissors and whatever else we thought would pull out the urchin spike. Heath had to endure the prodding. We did likewise with his whining.
On the side of the road, Bergs and I sat with our boards waiting for the local beemos to drive by and flag them down. These vans or trucks are small in comparison to your normal SUV that you see in the States. They think nothing of cramming people in with their gear. On previous rides Bergs had sat next to a guy holding a tank of petrol with his left arm and a ciggarette with the right hand. Safety is a loose term in these parts.
We sat for a good 15 minutes waiting and waving trying to get beemos to stop. Many just passed by honking and laughing. Some were empty and others were jammed packed. Finally we managed to flag one down. Unfortunately it was full. Full, meaning guys hanging off the sides and the back bumperwhile people inside sat on each others laps. We weren't so sure we'd fit. The beemo driver pointed to the roof.
It was a minature pickup truck with a canopy over the back. There was no rack or handles to hold onto. The boards were placed on the roof and then we climbed aboard. I sat above the driver with my feet sinking into the roof. The nose of our boards rested between my right arm and hips. I grabbed onto the end of the canopy and off we went. Unfortunately Bergs wasn't quite ready yet. The beemo started moving and his forehead crumpled up and his eyes stretched wide as if they were screaming for help but nothing came out. He looked like someone in a climbing movie about to fall off the edge of a cliff. He was in full action hero pose laying over the boards and trying to hold onto the sides. Only there was nothing for him to really grip. His legs hung off the end and through each turn they would swing. Bergs is not a young chick and this is not something most middle aged men think about doing at that age when they are on vacation. Eventually the beemo had to stop. Bergs readjusted himself and found a more comfortable, stable position.

The drive was fun and envigorating. It was just the rush I needed to get my head clear and stoked. We passed through tiny villages. Kids were everywhere, waving and greeting. I felt like we were a riding atop of a floot in a parade. The people were pointing and laughing. There were a couple of hairpin turns that reminded me that this was not some joy ride in a amusement park and falling off would really hurt and the nearest hospital was at least a 4-5 hour drive .

The beemo made it's stops letting people off, crowding them on. Our vague directions mentioned something about a creek or bridge that we pass and just after that is "The Way." We came to this creek and the beemo stopped. The driver slapped the roof and off we jumped. Dust kicked up in our face as the people in the back of the beemo waved as they shrank into the distance. There was a pounding roar in the distance and the dreaded rush came back to me. My stomach dropped. We slowly made our way along the creek on the edge of a tiny village. A few women stood on the side of a hut bathing with their sarongs on, fully covered. I had to tell myself that this is what I had come for. The adventure. A new spot. Nobody around. We walked on along the outskirts of the village until we hit the beach and were met with "it."
To describe "it" would not serve justice to the sheer power and speed that "it" broke along a shallow reef. We had found our way to "The Way." The reef where the wave broke was a slight distance away from where we stood. We marched along the beach. The sand was thick and each step was an effort as our feet sank. A group of kids sat on the beach swinging from vines. Some waved and smiled but the older ones stared. There were no other surfers around. Nobody in the water. Nobody there to tell us where to paddle out or where to sit. No local knowledge. I couldn't tell how shallow it was or if this was a good day or bad day for "The Way." It was beyond anything I had ever experienced. For how little we knew about the break, we might as well have been the first surfers ever to surf it. We weren't, but it sure felt like it.
"The Way" is a big left breaking wave with sections that reminded me of G-land and other sections that looked like Pipe only not as makeable. There was no shoulder. The end section was makeable but still very fast all the way up until it hits the shore or dry reef. Depends on the tide.
I wasn't so sure if Bergs was willing to paddle out. I had too much ego involved to not paddle out. Did I really want to surf this wave? Yes! Was I nervous and scared? You bet! I sat on a tight wire of emotions. On one side I was feaful of the wave and it would have been easy for me to say "no I am not paddling out." On the other side sat my pride, my enjoyment of the unknown and adrenaline. I had asked myself if I was capable of surfing this wave. Sure I was, but it's not always about the skill. It's about the willingness to commit. Could I commit? Would I commit? Or would I hesitate? The thoughts and questions with self doubt raced back and forth in my mind.
I wondered if Bergs was thinking the same as me. Did he really want this? Was it worth it to him? He had a family. He had a kid, a job, a wife and others that probably depended on him. I had really nothing. No job, no one who really depends on me. I could afford the risk. It was moments like this that I found perspective and myself in awe of guys like Boyum, Lopez, McCabe and others who had forged new paths to discover new waves in remote parts of the world. What we were doing was nothing. It's humbling to think about. I could easily sit here and write about how great I am or that I conquered this massive wave. Really, we were just following a paved road that someone else had layed down for us. Was it dangerous? Sure, but it was nothing compared what others have done and that thought gave me comfort.
"So where should we paddle?" Bergs asked. I don't know if he picked up on it but I was suprised he was the one to make the decision. He was more together about it than I was. And so we paddled out for our first session at "The Way."


And now the Surf Forecast for NY for the dates of Sept 1 - 7 , 2004

Wed: It's gonna be small all day and dropping. Winds are gonna be light. the calm before the storm.
Thurs: The day is gonna start out flat but by the after noon you should see it build. ESE winds at 10-12 kt.
Fri: We're looking at 3-4ft surf from the SE direction. Could be some fun ones. I think you all should get on it because it's gonna get messy after this. Winds are SW in the 8-10kt range. Nice crumbling lips to bash! Mmmmm!#
Sat: The day is gonna start with significant swell in the 4-5ft range but it's gonna build all day. So is the wind. East winds in the 15-20kt range. There is gonna be some paddling.
Sun: 6-8ft SSE swell. Winds are in the 10-15kt range from the ESE. Get your paddling arms ready. Set up a car at one end of the beach and another at the other end. Walking with a board into the wind is not the best. Especiallywith sand pelting you in the shins.
Mon: 5-6ft SSE swell with again 10-15kt ESE winds. Same as the day before.
Tues: Bam! Watch the swell grow. The morning will be 5-6ft but by evening it could get up to 10-12ft. Only one problem. The wind is not playing along and it's gonna be ESE with 18-25kt winds. Sounds like a survival session to me or victory at sea. Better wait till it calms down.

Enjoy the surf, don't let the wind get to you. Cover your eyes when walking up the beach and have fun.

Aloha,

Tyler Breuer Breuertj@hotmail.com
Sundown Ski and Surf www.sundownsurf.com
516-796-1565
www.surftheearth.blogspot.com

Aug 23, 2004

Arrived

The rain pounds down onto the trucks canopy. The nose of my board bag is resting on my lap while the tail end is sticking out the back over the edge and out into the open downpour. A couple of the locals give me looks and then a brief smile. The language barrier prevents us all form having any sort of real conversation. We both tried in broken English and Bahasa. It was useless. Everything was reduced to slow speaking and pointing. The dialect was different on this island from Bali. Certain letters had different pronunciations and emphasis. Each attempt to communicate ended in a slight laughter with me wishing I had spoken more of their language and probably with them thinking I'm a moron.
The truck made it's stops, dropping each local off one by one. Soon, It was just me and one of the drivers mates. I had no clue where I was going. It was dark and wet. The Jungle lined the edge of the road. I was facing the back of the truck and could only see slightly what the area looked like. Occasionally Lightning would illuminate the road and give me flashes of small houses and shacks. The car then made a turn and the road grew bumpy. I was rocked off my seat, slamming my head against the metal frame that held the canopy up. This went on for 10 minutes and then it all stopped. The Truck honked it's horn. We were at a gate. IT was crudely built with bamboo and barb, but effective. The gate was pulled open and the truck entered a compound and drove right up to a building. There I was to be greeted and sort out a place to stay.
I expected the worse. I thought it was going to be roughing it when I left for this trip. I thought I might be the only white person in the entire town. I had this romantic vision of myself as the adventurer roughing it, sleeping on some locals floor eating fish heads, chillis and rice. What I was greeted with was nothing of the sort.
The first person I was saw was white and Australian. Is there anywhere in the world where there are no Australians?
"The name's Ian Berghofer, call me Berg. And this is my son Heath."
There it was a father son duo "roughing it" in Indonesia. Ian or Berg, was tall with a lanky build. Long Arms, long legs and reaching 50 but reasonably fit. There was a genuineness about him beneath his formal introduction. He seemed honest with a slight goofiness that instantly made me feel at ease. His laughter was out of "The Revenge of the Nerds." They're Goldcoasters. Heath was 17 or as the Aussies say "seven-deen." Your typical Aussie grommet. Blonde curly hair, wiry frame and a sun freckled nose. He drew out the end words of his sentences slowly. It's almost like a Californian accent but with Aussie twang. The Kid was more or less Cheeky. He loved to stick a jab in when he could and cut you down when the opportunity arose. But through it all he had his father's good honest traits but the two loved to poke fun at each other. It was apparent from the begining when Heath made a poke at his father's cutback and Berg replied with something about Heath running from the barrel.

My arrival was a bit of a suprise to the people running what I had now found out was a surf camp. I was welcomed, given a room and offered 3 meals a day for roughly $8 per night. First, it wasn't a surf camp you envision like Tavarua or G-land. It was more spartan but far from roughing it. I had a room and a thin foam mattress complete with a set of fleas and other crawling things. After a full day of surfing it would do and nothing can move you then. The shower was a bucket in a well. The one luxury they had aside fromt he incredible cooking was toilet seats. After squatting for 2-3months being able to sit and do your business while reading was heaven. There was no TV. There was a deck of cards and the ocean which was literally in the camps backyard.

My first meal upon my arrival was mash potatoes with coconut milk, Brisket and cooked veggies. It couldn't have been a better way to arrive at a place. There were three girls that worked at the camp and basically took care of the surfers. They were charming, sweet and instantly took to making fun of me and my habits in there local dialect.

I stayed up the first night talking to Berg and Heath while sipping on a cold Bintang. I asked about the waves and asked more about the waves and then again I could hardly contain my curiosity about the place and needed to know more. It was dark and I couldn't see the surf. I had to go on what they told me. They had said the wave out front was a long peeling left hander that had grower sections with the occasional tube. That meant you could take off on a waist high wave and by the end of it the wave could be well over your head. Everything sounded nice and fun until they mentioned "The Way!" A big and gnarly wave that was only rideable at a higher tide ie. It's a bloody shallow wave and is apparently only rideable when it's above overhead. Otherwise it breaks too far up onto the reef making it too shallow to surf. My stomach turned the more they talked about it. "The Way" is a spot with big waves.

I erected my mozzie net and went to bed that night thinking about "The Way". Part of me loves big waves and the other part is scared or uncertain about them. The proving never really stops. I thought after a previous big wave surf that I could rest and not have to worry about big waves for a while. growing up in NY, we don't get big waves all that often. It does get big but only about once or twice a year. And even then it's not that big or dangerous compared to other places in the world. To have consistent big wave experience, was becoming stress. I find that once you have challenged yourself to larger surf it's hard to turn it down when the opportunity arrises. The reason being is because you have done it before, it shouldn't be a problem to do it again. The ego comes into play and to say no to a challenge can debilitate ones confidence or self image. It's hard to say I can't or don't want to do something because you are scared. Especially when the challenge is within your physical capabilities. What I mean is, if I were to try to ride a 15ft halfpipe I would be dead. I never really had any practice at skating ramps, especially big ramps but if someone who were a decent skater who has skated ramps for most of their lives it would be hard for them to not go and take on the ramp. The same goes with what I was feeling. If a day came when "The Way" were breaking and in all likelyhood would be big, It would be very diffiult for me not to paddle out. That thought scared me and thrilled me. Maybe that is the allure of big waves. This is what consumed my thoughts my first evening at the "Ombak Surf Camp."
The bed I slept in felt dirty enough for me to want to wake up early before sunrise. It was cloudy and the wind was blowing onshore. I walked out to the edge of the property where a rickety wood fence lined the edge of the beach. I looked out towards the break out front. It was messy and I couldn't make out where the take off zone was. It looked awful. Had I travelled all this way for this, a sloppy waist to chest high disorganized mushburger. I decided to sit and have some coffee and hoped it would clean up. Bergs was up and joined me after checking the surf. We sat and chatted about the waves and how good they were the previous days and what was on his itinerary for the next few weeks. I thought, isn't it like an Australian to say "You should have been here yesterday!" It was straight out of "The Endless Summer."

As the morning wore on the surf cleaned up and before I knew it I was out there in overhead peeling lefts with only 3 other surfers. Waves went on and on till my legs shook and I couldn't turn my board no more. After my first session, my time in this remote piece of the world seemed to blend. I fell into the flow of the area. In the mornings two surfers would pull up to the camp with their driver from town. Ross and Damo. Both from OZ near Angourie, in their mid to late 40s. These two had been coming to this wave for some time over the years. They stay in town with an American named Zane, who owned a little bungalow styled place.
Ross was skinny, with a long forehead and a litel brown mustache. He was a goofy foot and was very laid back with a good sense of humor. He was the more vocal of the two and I found him to be quite likeable. Damo had a certain senstivity about him. He was soft spoken but was quick to make some funny remarks. He was a vegetarian but was finnicky about his food. He never spoke out loud and had a respectfulness about him that made me feel at ease and I really felt like I could open up about certain things about life and doubt that one might not share with a lot of traveling surfers. Damo was tall with athletic build and thick white-gray hair. He was a smooth regular foot who could draw some really clean lines. His stance was tall and spread, somewhat reminiscent of M.R. Ross was opposing with a low stance enabling him to make late critcal drops.
The two would show up in the morning and hang out waiting for the surf to clean up and spent most of the day with us. They seemed to know a great deal more about "The Way." Each story fueled my fear and desire of the place. It would only be a matter of time before I would have to confront it. The swell was forcasted to pick up by the end of my first week. There would be an opportunity to confront "The Way" sooner than I thought ...



And now the Sundown Surf Alert Surf Forecast:

Mon: It's looking pretty small for Mon with a 1-2ft swell and West winds in the 7-10kt range. Not much for the beginning of the week but watch out.
Tues: The morning is going to be small in the 1-2ft range again but watch the swell jump but late afternoon in the 3-4ft range coming from the Easterly direction with E winds in the 12-18kt range. It's gonna be blowing out there. Could be soem fun messy surf.
Wed: The swell is gonna stick around in the 3-4ft range. I reckon there is gonna be a strong Easterly drift. get ready for some paddling. The winds are gonna be E at 10-15kts. Looks like there will be some walking to do.
Thurs: The surf should hang in there in the 2-3ft range coming form the ESE but I reckon the current will be a factor still. Winds will be ENE at 10kt. It could clena up a little bit. I know somewhere that could be good. Can't tell ya though.
Fri: The swell is gonna build again from the ESE but it's gonna still be messy with SE winds at 10-12 kts.
Sat: Again, 2-3ft with SSE winds in the 12-14kt range. Get on it. Sure it will be messy but it could be fun as well. And it's the weekend.
Sun: Jeez, will the waves ever stop for NY? 2-4ft SSE swell with a SSW wind. I reckon there are gonna be a lot of surfers with sore arms by Sunday. Hey, enjoy it.

Thank you and look for the next chapter in this foreign land.

Aloha


Tyler Breuer breuertj@hotmail.com
Sundown Ski and Surf
516-796-1565 www.sundownsurf.com
www.surftheearth.blogspot.com