Scribbles Abroad

We arranged for the same driver to take us from Turtles in Ujung Gentang all the way to Southern Sumatra near Krui. The journey was supposed to take 24 hours but our driver moonlights as a formula one driver so we made it in 16. The trip involved heading inland from Turtles up to Jakarta and then heading North to the Ferry. The Ferry ride was a trip. It was one of those scary ones you hear about that sinks and no one survives. We were ready to grab our surfboards at the first sign of trouble and jump ship. Luckily we didn’t need to and in addition, had we, we would have missed the schinanigans that happen on this ferry every night. There was a guy performing a live infomercial, guys giving tattoos in the parking area, an area where you could dance with girls for around a buck accompanied by live music, and you could do some shopping for that crap you always wanted but never needed. The ferry ride was a chance for our driver to get some quick shut eye and then we were back on the road.

If anyone gets carsick, hiring a car and driving around Indonesia is not something you’d like. With mountainous terrain, the roads weave back and forth and up and down. Then you add in the potholes, wildlife, and other crazy drivers, taking dramamine won’t do you any good. We chewed on some li hing mui ginger to ease ourselves and tried to sleep but pretty much couldn’t. About 15 hours and 30 minutes into the journey we were getting close and the driver started getting anxious. With the pedal to themetal we were flying around potholes in the pitch black as if his goal were to beat the rising sun. One of many bridges was approaching and usually he slows down, but this time he didn’t. We hit the beginning of the bridge and reenacted the beginning of the Dukes of Hazard TV show. We seriously got about 10 feet of air all wheels off the road and screaming. We landed on the down transition of the bridge with no damage done. With our adrenaline pumping we began to see the ocean and a nice solid swell was rolling into the shoreline. We pulled into a point called Ujung Bocur and decided to stay at a place called Ombak Indah.

Owned by Nev, Ombak Indah is a beautiful spot with nice rooms right on the beach at the point. Its the best location for surfing Ujung Bocur aka SLL (Sumatras Longest Left). A wave peels for 300+meters right out front and by the time you get one that goes all the way through, your legs are jello. For 19 bucks a night, Louise, Shaun, and I split a suite with its own real bathroom (shower, tub, western toilet, and sink). The room was finished with marble and vaulted ceilings, its far from the ghetto places we have been staying in and the price is close to the same. We lucked out because it wasn’t quite finished so he just wanted people to experience it. The cost per person included three meals and a coke per day, plus all the coffee and tea you can drink.

Our time at Ombak Indah was spent surfing a ton, playing ping pong,a ittle texas hold ’em , and just relaxing. The place is really laid back and all the guests are there for the same reason, to chill and surf. It was a small group of guests, Aussies, Kiwis, Frenchies, and then us the HAWAIIANS.

Traveling around brings up the obvious question of where were from. Inevitably we always say Hawaii vs. saying America. Honestly, I say Hawaii to avoid the negative connotations that accompany the stereotypical American persona that others countries hold for Americans. Never do we get, “Hawaii? Don’t you mean America?” One way to look at it is that Hawaiians that have preceded us have set a good example and impressed others with their spirits of aloha and ohana, so if you are one of those individuals, thank you. To be Hawaiian shouldn’t be perceived solely as a bloodline but a source of your spirit. People back home that believe a Hawaiian is one with Hawaiian blood should reassess their belief. Hawaiians are Polynesian, Polynesians derive from Asians, Asians from Mother Africa (Ok maybe not that quickly but thats where it gets to). Although I am not a Hawaiian by blood, I believe I am a Hawaiian in spirit, and that is what should count. OK where was I? Yes we are American and I am proud to be an American, as with my pride in being a fricken Earthling. More or less, can’t we all just get along. But that being said, when we are asked the question where we are from, for now we will continue to say Hawaii.

Louise got to see her first monkey.  There was a monkey for hire that would climb the coconut trees and throw down a bunch of coconuts.  Nevs wife hired her for a few minutes and he climbed up there to hook up the camp with some fresh coconuts.

Our departure from Ombak Indah was premature due to certain occurrences that I will briefly describe here. We were planning on doing a bunch of exploring in this area but we no longer felt safe and decided to head out. We spent 1 week in Krui but would have liked to spend 2 or 3.

The Main Occurrence:

There are no ATMs or money changers in Krui, the nearest one is in Lewa a good two hours away with a giant jungle in between. We had rented motor bikes but on the first day, my throttle was getting stuck and that can be quite scary when its raining and you’ve got a surfboard on the side of you. To release the throttle I had to gas it and on one turn I actually had to put my foot out to recover after throttling to release the stubborn throttle. Upon our return I found Albert, the smooth talking bike rental owner who says, “I own 2% of the business here but control 89%.” He was unable to get me another bike so only Shaun had one. Next we were all almost out of money so we had to do a money run. Any time a tourist is out on a bike headed back from Lewa, the locals can assume that they went on a money run. Shaun offered to take our cards and pull out money for us. Since we only had one bike we obliged as we trust him. He left at 1 pm and hadn’t returned by 8 pm. At around 7 pm we started calling the police and other business owners to find out if they had heard anything. He should have been back by 5pm. At 8pm we got in a car and started scouring the coast for him. With no street lights its difficult to see who is coming so we were yelling his name at every motor bike that came our way. About 20 minutes into the drive with a scream “Jammer!!!!!” at a passing bike, we found him. Like a movie reunion we both hit the brakes and Louise and I jumped out of the car and ran towards him. The first thing he said is, “you won’t believe what just happened to me.” I jumped on the back of his bike with my large Anker in hand and Louise back into the car. We raced home to get back to safety. The following is an abbreviated version of what he told me and has allowed me to tell you for educational purposes.

Shaun (aka Jammer) told me that he had made a wrong turn and never made it to Lewa. He was in the jungle headed towards Bengkulu unknown to him. At some point the Polisi (Police) stopped him and forced him into their station. There they interrogated him, tried to extort money from him, and then threatened his life. They asked him where his passport was and when he told them he left it at the hotel they said, “so you go missing and no one know!” Then they continued to harass him for money. While they were not looking he hid the money from his pocket in his helmet. The remaining amount of money along with his passport were hidden in a secret pocket in his bag. They looked through his bag multiple times but never found it. Then they flashed their guns at him and asked him where his gun was. When he said he didn’t have one, another cop snuck up from behind and pushed a machine gun into his chest so that he would grab it. He refused thinking they were trying to get his prints on the gun.

They believed Jammer but still wanted to get something from him. They asked how much his sunglasses were worth and he told them 600,000 rupiah which is untrue, they are actually worth close to 2,000,000 rupiah. They said, “we take glasses?” Shaun being a smart fellow responded, “If you take glasses, you let me go!” After a bit of conversation between the cops, they agreed but not before allowing Shaun to take a few pictures with them. The pics here show Shaun in a confused state of what the fuck just happened to me. The obviously terrifying situation that Shaun found himself in could have escalated but by being calm, Shaun was able to get out of it with a small sacrifice considering what was at stake.

Once we got back to the Losmen, the local police were called in and the situation was explained. They promised to do something about it but we doubt anything will. Before we could figure out whether any justice would occur we felt it safest to get the hell out of there. We felt with the police contacted, the tourist bureau, and the local governor, the police that originally detained Shaun would know where we were and could come back for retribution. Where Shaun got stopped was also exactly where we were planning on going next. We are trying to live by the rules that if shit gets too hot, move on and look for something a bit more chill.

We are learning as we are traveling. Many places that you think are fine are really not that safe. With political motivations and religious differences, the locals see the tourists in different ways. If you run across one that sees a tourist as a target, you have very little choice but to deal with it. We are emphasizing our safety in numbers theory. No more going off alone. For the girls, definitely don’t go walking alone on the beach in a bikini. If you do decide to wander off alone, be sure to carry pepper spray. Avoid driving at night and if you do have to, make sure you have a local with you. When carrying money, keep it hidden and in separate places so that if they do find it, they can assume that’s it and there is no more.

We were really sad to leave early because the hospitality of Nev’s place at Ombak Indah was spectacular. When we were on the property we felt safe and secure. We never locked our doors and slept with the windows open. The surf was great. We caught some of the longest lefts in our lives, met great people, and discovered the possibilities hidden along the coastlines just north and south of Krui. We hope to be back and hopefully when we do the community is more aware of the potential for tourism to enhance their own life’s. Currently the risks involved with hunting waves in this area were too high for us.

We are now headed back down to Bali but trying to avoid Kuta. A swell is arriving this evening and the mass amounts of tourists should have departed by now. Probably not, but if it’s too busy, we are planning on heading to other parts of Bali like the North and East.

The sad thing is that in Bali, we feel a lot more safe and its primarily a result of different religions.  Pretty much all of Indonesia except for the small island of Bali is Muslim.  The Islamic majority is trying to get more Islamic laws passed and many of the laws are threatening the Hindu and Bali lifestyles along with the tourist behaviors such as walking the beach in a bikini or with your shirt off.  The near future for Indonesia is going to change quickly with a continued influence of hard line Muslim culture.

Over and Out.

KP

We left Bali in search of somewhere less crowded and more relaxing.  We packed our bags and bought a ticket to Jakarta.  Our next destination would be Cimaja, a little town with a pebble beach and a small surfing community.  After landing in Jakarta we grabbed our bags and headed outside to arrange our transportation.  I guess something about us screamed tourist because instantly we were bombarded with drivers wanting our business.  It was a little overwhelming.  They were naming prices, all way too high, and they didn’t even know where Cimaja was.   A local guy noticed that we needed some help and recommend that we buy a bus ticket that would take us to Bogor (about half way there).  The ticket was a great deal at only 20,000 IDR about $2.50.  It would take about 3 hours to get to Bogor.  The bus ride was a great way to see the city.  Make shift houses and buildings were everywhere you could see and the kids played right along the grassy edge of the freeway.  There was a lot of traffic but we finally made it to Bogor at around 6pm.

As we were getting off the bus it began to rain.   We unloaded our stuff and made a break for the rest stop.  We decided to get a bite to eat while we planned our next move.  We needed to transfer to another bus that would take us to Pelabuhanratu which is just 8km west of Cimaja.  In order to catch the bus we would have to cross the street and walk about 200m.  While eating we could see flashes of lightning and the crashes of thunder were so loud they shook the windows.  The rain stopped for a moment so we grabbed our things and began making our way to the other bus station.

Our backpacks were strapped on and we were rolling our board-bags (thanks to Kahi’s brilliant skateboard idea) and everything was going great until it came time to cross the street.  There was one of those stairway pedestrian overpasses and boy was it a pain in the a** to carry our stuff up those wet slippery stairs.  Then the rain came.  Young boys with umbrellas were everywhere offering shelter from the rain for a small fee but we were already so soaked.

There were buses everywhere and it was difficult to find the one we needed to catch.  At first we accidentally got on the wrong bus and had to unload everything and get off.  After running around everywhere, Kahi found the right bus but we had to pay double for our boardbags.  The bus driver told Kahi and I to sit in the front of the bus (for a better view), Shaun sat in the back to keep and eye on our stuff.

Our bus driver drove like a mad man, but I guess that’s how everyone drives here.  It was pouring rain and he was passing people, weaving in and out of traffic on a two lane windy road.  There were many times where I seriously though we we’re going to get into a head on collision.  Then our driver found my motorbike helmet and decided to wear it, he drove with it on for about half and hour.  Anyway we finally made it to Pelabuhanratu four hours later.

It was quite late when we got off the bus and everything was closed.  There we’re a group of guys that surrounded us and wanted to take us to Cimaja on their motorbikes.  We had our backpacks and boardbags with us and it was still raining so that was not going to happen.  There weren’t any hotels open and for a moment we thought we’d have to wait until morning to catch a bus or arrange for a driver.
We were getting quite desperate, so Kahi went to see if he could find someone to help us.  He found a guy with a bus that would take us to Cimaja for 200,000IDR ($25 which is expensive for such a short drive but we were desperate).  We were so stoked to get out of that sketchy situation and gladly paid him.  He took us to The Green Room, luckily it had a bar and was open late.  It was the first time the guys at the losmen had ever seen a bus pull up to the green room and were shocked at how we were able to pull it off.

The Green Room is owned by Kerry a guy from California  and his local wife ChiChi.  The rooms were cheap at $3 a night and the food was great.  The bar was a great place to talk story, watch cable tv, or use the internet.  Kerry and ChiChi we’re so helpful and more than willing to help us out.  Kerry told us the best places to surf and also highlighted our map on where else we should check out.  ChiChi was a beautiful woman who cooked the best food that I’ve had so far on our trip.  She made the best sate (beef skewers) I’ve ever had.  They were so tender, her secret was to wrap the skewers in papaya leaves.

The Green Room was located right across the street from the surf break Cimaja.  Kerry said that we had come at the perfect time because it’s currently Ramadaan, so the locals aren’t suppose to surf.  The water was pretty dirty from all of the rain but it was a fun wave and there were only about 6 of us out.  The swell was a little too big for the spot though so it was closing out.

We were told that the street we were staying on was nicknamed “little baghdad” and that there we’re Alquaeda Training Camps right up in the mountains.  Knowing that September 11th was coming up we decided that we should get the hell out of there and move on to Ujung Gentang in search of Turtle Beach.