G land dos and donts
freeride76 wrote:
Yeah.
When that person just got dropped off in a boat and paddled in to a deeper position straight off the boat?
Just jump.back on the jetski and reset @ freeride76
And you've been paddling to stay in position for 45 minutes?
Just jump back on the ski and reset @ freeride76
I like the guy that looks straight at you further down the line and judges you on his ability and thinks you won’t make it and drops in only to have you nearly run him down. Then he says “ sorry I didn’t see you “ and I go , well you looked straight at me and I called out twice . Then again he goes yeah I’m so sorry, I really didn’t see you . As if blatantly lying will somehow justify his cuntiness.
Supafreak wrote:
I like the guy that looks straight at you further down the line and judges you on his ability and thinks you won’t make it and drops in only to have you nearly run him down. Then he says “ sorry I didn’t see you “ and I go , well you looked straight at me and I called out twice . Then again he goes yeah I’m so sorry, I really didn’t see you . As if blatantly lying will somehow justify his cuntiness.
This is the stuff , gold even .
Classic
Supafreak wrote:
I like the guy that looks straight at you further down the line and judges you on his ability and thinks you won’t make it and drops in only to have you nearly run him down. Then he says “ sorry I didn’t see you “ and I go , well you looked straight at me and I called out twice . Then again he goes yeah I’m so sorry, I really didn’t see you . As if blatantly lying will somehow justify his cuntiness.
AKA the politician.
Bedtime story for Lanky #2:
Monday morning, Moneytrees into Speedies. High tide, eight foot sets.
I've been to G-Land before when the trades blow through the night, meaning you can wake up and the wind would already be light offshore. There's negatives and positives to that scenario as it's possible to surf more, make more use of good tide phases, but there's also an increased likelihood of cold water upwelling when the trades are constant and strong.
Nevertheless, this trip wasn't like that. We had to wait till 10 or even 11 o'clock before the trades got strong enough to iron out the kinks and open up the hollow sections. Because of the tides - highs were early and late - there were always a few in the water at sunrise.
On Monday I was one of them. A quick surf check in the half-light seemed to reveal a big drop in size so I downsized from a 7'0" to 6'4" and planned to sit a bit tighter.
When I arrived in the lineup the surface was glassy, no wind at all, but in short time a light land breeze came up sending small chop up the face. Time in the lineup also revealed the surf hadn't dropped as much as I thought. Big sets were still breaking down the outer part of the reef sending those inside scrambling.
I attempted to paddle for a set but between the chop, the lack of paddle speed compared to the 7'0" which I'd been riding the last two days, and possibly my own case of morning sickness where things just didn't feel right, I got blown off the back. A friend counted me lucky for that.
"That thing ledged out just underneath you," he said. "It would've been a freefall."
Unable to get the sets a game of cat and mouse began: darting in, sprinting out. It ended pretty quickly when a set stormed down the reef well outside and caught most of us inside. It broke twenty or so metres outside of me so I ditched the board and put trust in the urethane.
Oddly, the urethane held but the velcro didn't. It came undone at the rail saver and I surfaced with a bit of a swim ahead of me. No big deal as I was in deep water so simply dove under the next few waves without any drama, then planned to drift down the reef.
I wasn't overly bothered about my board as I lost a board two days previous at a similar tide and the board washed in near Bobby's. Someone grabbed it and left it on the beach. Figuring the same would happen today, and also that my session was over till after breakfast, I took my time, cruised down the line, watching a few surfers lining up waves towards the end of Moneys.
The plan was to drift down beyond Speedies and come in towards the boat channel. A nice set came down the reef and Riley, a young kid from Cronulla, was on one of them. I swam in tighter to float over the shoulder as Riley went past. A short hoot as he tried to lance it among the chop and wobbles.
I kept swimmimg, even saw the boat dropping off surfers and considered waving it down for a lift in but thought otherwise. Shortly after Riley rode past me I saw him down the line about 50m, 'cept he wasn't paddling up the line towards me but sprinting hard out to sea. Trouble brewing.
I floated over the first lump and saw an 8 foot wave that had swung well wide and was steaming onto Speed Reef. It was going to break outside of me so I swam hard towards it, dived down deep, all the way to the bottom, eyes open, and just got onto the other side of the turbulence.
Surfacing, the next wave did likewise and I also repeated the process, swimming at it then taking a long dive to just escape its tendrils.
The third wave wouldn't allow it. I had to collect my breath and take the beating. It was violent and sent me on an underwater gymnastic routine - legs over my head, spiralling this way and that.
Breeched the surface panting hard to see another wave I wouldn't make. In 'Surf Is Where You Find It' by Lopez he writes of getting caught on Speed Reef and seeing no way to fight it, so he lets himself get caught up in the ferocity and pushed higher onto the reef.
I didn't think of Lopez at the time, that reference came later, but the reasoning was the same: take a deliberate flogging and get away from further energy. So I did. I let the whitewash belt me without diving to avoid it. Already tired it was the worst pounding I'd had in a while, caught up in the chaos unable to control my limbs or bearing, and also unable to bundy off. It flogged me well beyond what was comfortable putting me at the point where I almost breathed in before hitting the surface, praying there'd be no more waves in the set.
I surfaced to a maddening sight. Despite everything I'd just gone through I hadn't moved onto the reef at all. Another wave was looming and I was still squarely in the impact zone. The next wave took me to the fluttering edge of panic, requiring rigid control of calmness. Hard enough when in a still pool for a breathwork course, where external stumulation is near zero, almost impossible when pummelled by Grade 5 rapids and up is down and down is up.
Little moments of monologue:
You put yourself here, you deal with it.
No-one can even see me.
Humans can hold their breath far longer then we're aware.
The reef has to be getting shallower.
Once again I surfaced and once again another wave, though slightly further out, meaning I was slightly further in. As it approached I took a punt and dived a good way down. Touched reef! When the turbulence rolled overhead I put the flats of my feet, no booties, against what felt solid and pushed upwards.
It worked and I got through the whitewash without getting rolled. Big breaths while lolling in the aftertow, stroking to get closer to what I knew now was the rising reef.
A few more smaller bit of whitewash hit but I could keep my head above water at all times and breathe. Water was rushing sideways hard and I struggled to keep my footing without booties. When in shallow enough water I stood upright and spent a minute ot two filling my lungs and getting my breathing back to normal. My head too.
Now, my board? Unlike last time there was no-one in the lagoon signalling its whereabouts, so I walked across the reef, came in just down from Joyos and then began the jog/trudge back up the beach to find it.
I passed the Kiwis sitting on the wooden deck at Jawa Jiwa. "You got flogged, bro!"
"Too right I did. You see my board anywhere?"
"It went that way, bro," and they pointed down towards the boat channel. Silently I cursed their chipper mood and dry feet (when I broached it later on they said the board was way out in the lagoon travelling at a clip so was unable to be rescued).
No point running in the soft sand so I hit the pathway and made like it was Park Run on a Sunday morning and me a MAMIL in a lycra rash vest. Puffing away I passed a few crew wiping sleep from their eyes giving me quizzical looks. No sign of it at the boat channel. Fuck. So I shifted to the sand and kept running north towards 20/20s.
Another five minutes and I hear locals yelling at me from a fire just off the beach. They signal to stop, so I do, and sit.
"Selamat pagi!"
"Ya...."
One of them points north and I see a boat inside the lagoon heading this way. They yell at the boat and the driver responds by standing in the tender then picking up a red surfboard, my board, from the tail and brandishing it high. All laugh.
I said thanks to Captain Salim and later paid him 500,000Rp for his efforts.
Five pancakes barely filled the hole and not long after brekky I began to feel weird. My muscles hurt like the onset of a flu but without the fever or head sickness. It was the last day of the swell but I ended up skipping it all. Slept for six hours that day and backed it up with another twelve that night. Rose feeling fine the next day, with a renewed plan to train harder and maybe skip the Gudangs too.
stunet wrote:
Bedtime story for Lanky #2:
Monday morning, Moneytrees into Speedies. High tide, eight foot sets.
I've been to G-Land before when the trades blow through the night, meaning you can wake up and the wind would already be light offshore. There's negatives and positives to that scenario as it's possible to surf more, make more use of good tide phases, but there's also an increased likelihood of cold water upwelling when the trades are constant and strong.
Nevertheless, this trip wasn't like that. We had to wait till 10 or even 11 o'clock before the trades got strong enough to iron out the kinks and open up the hollow sections. Because of the tides - highs were early and late - there were always a few in the water at sunrise.
On Monday I was one of them. A quick surf check in the half-light seemed to reveal a big drop in size so I downsized from a 7'0" to 6'4" and planned to sit a bit tighter.
When I arrived in the lineup the surface was glassy, no wind at all, but in short time a light land breeze came up sending small chop up the face. Time in the lineup also revealed the surf hadn't dropped as much as I thought. Big sets were still breaking down the outer part of the reef sending those inside scrambling.
I attempted to paddle for a set but between the chop, the lack of paddle speed compared to the 7'0" which I'd been riding the last two days, and possibly my own case of morning sickness where things just didn't feel right, I got blown off the back. A friend counted me lucky for that.
"That thing ledged out just underneath you," he said. "It would've been a freefall."
Unable to get the sets a game of cat and mouse began: darting in, sprinting out. It ended pretty quickly when a set stormed down the reef well outside and caught most of us inside. It broke twenty or so metres outside of me so I ditched the board and put trust in the urethane.
Oddly, the urethane held but the velcro didn't. It came undone at the rail saver and I surfaced with a bit of a swim ahead of me. No big deal as I was in deep water so simply dove under the next few waves without any drama, then planned to drift down the reef.
I wasn't overly bothered about my board as I lost a board two days previous at a similar tide and the board washed in near Bobby's. Someone grabbed it and left it on the beach. Figuring the same would happen today, and also that my session was over till after breakfast, I took my time, cruised down the line, watching a few surfers lining up waves towards the end of Moneys.
The plan was to drift down beyond Speedies and come in towards the boat channel. A nice set came down the reef and Riley, a young kid from Cronulla, was on one of them. I swam in tighter to float over the shoulder as Riley went past. A short hoot as he tried to lance it among the chop and wobbles.
I kept swimmimg, even saw the boat dropping off surfers and considered waving it down for a lift in but thought otherwise. Shortly after Riley rode past me I saw him down the line about 50m, 'cept he wasn't paddling up the line towards me but sprinting hard out to sea. Trouble brewing.
I floated over the first lump and saw an 8 foot wave that had swung well wide and was steaming onto Speed Reef. It was going to break outside of me so I swam hard towards it, dived down deep, all the way to the bottom, eyes open, and just got onto the other side of the turbulence.
Surfacing, the next wave did likewise and I also repeated the process, swimming at it then taking a long dive to just escape its tendrils.
The third wave wouldn't allow it. I had to collect my breath and take the beating. It was violent and sent me on an underwater gymnastic routine - legs over my head, spiralling this way and that.
Breeched the surface panting hard to see another wave I wouldn't make. In 'Surf Is Where You Find It' by Lopez he writes of getting caught on Speed Reef and seeing no way to fight it, so he lets himself get caught up in the ferocity and pushed higher onto the reef.
I didn't think of Lopez at the time, that reference came later, but the reasoning was the same: take a deliberate flogging and get away from further energy. So I did. I let the whitewash belt me without diving to avoid it. Already tired it was the worst pounding I'd had in a while, caught up in the chaos unable to control my limbs or bearing, and also unable to bundy off. It flogged me well beyond what was comfortable putting me at the point where I almost breathed in before hitting the surface, praying there'd be no more waves in the set.
I surfaced to a maddening sight. Despite everything I'd just gone through I hadn't moved onto the reef at all. Another wave was looming and I was still squarely in the impact zone. The next wave took me to the fluttering edge of panic, requiring rigid control of calmness. Hard enough when in a still pool for a breathwork course, where external stumulation is near zero, almost impossible when pummelled by Grade 5 rapids and up is down and down is up.
Little moments of monologue:
You put yourself here, you deal with it.
No-one can even see me.
Humans can hold their breath far longer then we're aware.
The reef has to be getting shallower.
Once again I surfaced and once again another wave, though slightly further out, meaning I was slightly further in. As it approached I took a punt and dived a good way down. Touched reef! When the turbulence rolled overhead I put the flats of my feet, no booties, against what felt solid and pushed upwards.
It worked and I got through the whitewash without getting rolled. Big breaths while lolling in the aftertow, stroking to get closer to what I knew now was the rising reef.
A few more smaller bit of whitewash hit but I could keep my head above water at all times and breathe. Water was rushing sideways hard and I struggled to keep my footing without booties. When in shallow enough water I stood upright and spent a minute ot two filling my lungs and getting my breathing back to normal. My head too.
Now, my board? Unlike last time there was no-one in the lagoon signalling its whereabouts, so I walked across the reef, came in just down from Joyos and then began the jog/trudge back up the beach to find it.
I passed the Kiwis sitting on the wooden deck at Jawa Jiwa. "You got flogged, bro!"
"Too right I did. You see my board anywhere?"
"It went that way, bro," and they pointed down towards the boat channel. Silently I cursed their chipper mood and dry feet (when I broached it later on they said the board was way out in the lagoon travelling at a clip so was unable to be rescued).
No point running in the soft sand so I hit the pathway and made like it was Park Run on a Sunday morning and me a MAMIL in a lycra rash vest. Puffing away I passed a few crew wiping sleep from their eyes giving me quizzical looks. No sign of it at the boat channel. Fuck. So I shifted to the sand and kept running north towards 20/20s.
Another five minutes and I hear locals yelling at me from a fire just off the beach. They signal to stop, so I do, and sit.
"Selamat pagi!"
"Ya...."
One of them points north and I see a boat inside the lagoon heading this way. They yell at the boat and the driver responds by standing in the tender then picking up a red surfboard, my board, from the tail and brandishing it high. All laugh.
I said thanks to Captain Salim and later paid him 500,000Rp for his efforts.
Five pancakes barely filled the hole and not long after brekky I began to feel weird. My muscles hurt like the onset of a flu but without the fever or head sickness. It was the last day of the swell but I ended up skipping it all. Slept for six hours that day and backed it up with another twelve that night. Rose feeling fine the next day, with a renewed plan to train harder and maybe skip the Gudangs too.
Quite the trip!!
Great yarns and writing, felt like I was there..
Great stories Stu..
Story 1 - Sorry but I'm calling bullshit on old mate who dropped in. Not as in he wasn't sorry, but that he went because someone called him in. That's not ok in my book. If you're out in 8-10 ft Gland then YOU make your call on when to go knowing it's clear and/or they're not making the section. Going on someone else's say so is BS.
Story 2 - I felt that one, minus the lost board detail, I've been anchored in that zone multiple times. It always seems to hit you physically after the event - amazing how the mind and adrenalin handle the experience at the time, but then your body becomes overwhelmed afterwards.
I feel you're entitled to a redemption story Stu - gives us a run down of the best wave of your trip - it will be read by all as a joy not as a brag.
crg wrote:
I feel you're entitled to a redemption story Stu - gives us a run down of the best wave of your trip - it will be read by all as a joy not as a brag.
Appreciate that. TBH the initial freefall on the drop in wave was one of the highlights of the trip. Felt I pushed it hard, beyond what was comfortable, and like all big moments it included a little bit of good fortune - I landed with weight forward, spray came off the nose but not enough to dig in and nosedive.
Other than that? One smaller but longer barrel through Speedies where I found a sweet spot on the board and drifted slightly lower and higher on the wave face. Was on the 7'0" and as it went to let me out I felt I was a touch too high and would nosedive in a nasty spot, but instead the rocker kept the nose clean and I exited knowing it was a close call.
Many other moments of clarity, noteworthy to no-one but me, some while standing on the board, others just sitting and watching things. You know how it is.
Nice - sounds like that 7'0 is a keeper - nothing better than building rocker trust on a bigger board and knowing she'll kick up and not in.
You're right about the moments in Gland - it's such a vast landscape, so much energy...a breadth to it...it tends to transcend it's expansiveness to your thoughts.
Such a special place.
Thanks again (and to everyone in this thread) for the stories.
stunet wrote:
Bedtime story for Lanky #2:
Monday morning, Moneytrees into Speedies. High tide, eight foot sets.
I've been to G-Land before when the trades blow through the night, meaning you can wake up and the wind would already be light offshore. There's negatives and positives to that scenario as it's possible to surf more, make more use of good tide phases, but there's also an increased likelihood of cold water upwelling when the trades are constant and strong.
Nevertheless, this trip wasn't like that. We had to wait till 10 or even 11 o'clock before the trades got strong enough to iron out the kinks and open up the hollow sections. Because of the tides - highs were early and late - there were always a few in the water at sunrise.
On Monday I was one of them. A quick surf check in the half-light seemed to reveal a big drop in size so I downsized from a 7'0" to 6'4" and planned to sit a bit tighter.
When I arrived in the lineup the surface was glassy, no wind at all, but in short time a light land breeze came up sending small chop up the face. Time in the lineup also revealed the surf hadn't dropped as much as I thought. Big sets were still breaking down the outer part of the reef sending those inside scrambling.
I attempted to paddle for a set but between the chop, the lack of paddle speed compared to the 7'0" which I'd been riding the last two days, and possibly my own case of morning sickness where things just didn't feel right, I got blown off the back. A friend counted me lucky for that.
"That thing ledged out just underneath you," he said. "It would've been a freefall."
Unable to get the sets a game of cat and mouse began: darting in, sprinting out. It ended pretty quickly when a set stormed down the reef well outside and caught most of us inside. It broke twenty or so metres outside of me so I ditched the board and put trust in the urethane.
Oddly, the urethane held but the velcro didn't. It came undone at the rail saver and I surfaced with a bit of a swim ahead of me. No big deal as I was in deep water so simply dove under the next few waves without any drama, then planned to drift down the reef.
I wasn't overly bothered about my board as I lost a board two days previous at a similar tide and the board washed in near Bobby's. Someone grabbed it and left it on the beach. Figuring the same would happen today, and also that my session was over till after breakfast, I took my time, cruised down the line, watching a few surfers lining up waves towards the end of Moneys.
The plan was to drift down beyond Speedies and come in towards the boat channel. A nice set came down the reef and Riley, a young kid from Cronulla, was on one of them. I swam in tighter to float over the shoulder as Riley went past. A short hoot as he tried to lance it among the chop and wobbles.
I kept swimmimg, even saw the boat dropping off surfers and considered waving it down for a lift in but thought otherwise. Shortly after Riley rode past me I saw him down the line about 50m, 'cept he wasn't paddling up the line towards me but sprinting hard out to sea. Trouble brewing.
I floated over the first lump and saw an 8 foot wave that had swung well wide and was steaming onto Speed Reef. It was going to break outside of me so I swam hard towards it, dived down deep, all the way to the bottom, eyes open, and just got onto the other side of the turbulence.
Surfacing, the next wave did likewise and I also repeated the process, swimming at it then taking a long dive to just escape its tendrils.
The third wave wouldn't allow it. I had to collect my breath and take the beating. It was violent and sent me on an underwater gymnastic routine - legs over my head, spiralling this way and that.
Breeched the surface panting hard to see another wave I wouldn't make. In 'Surf Is Where You Find It' by Lopez he writes of getting caught on Speed Reef and seeing no way to fight it, so he lets himself get caught up in the ferocity and pushed higher onto the reef.
I didn't think of Lopez at the time, that reference came later, but the reasoning was the same: take a deliberate flogging and get away from further energy. So I did. I let the whitewash belt me without diving to avoid it. Already tired it was the worst pounding I'd had in a while, caught up in the chaos unable to control my limbs or bearing, and also unable to bundy off. It flogged me well beyond what was comfortable putting me at the point where I almost breathed in before hitting the surface, praying there'd be no more waves in the set.
I surfaced to a maddening sight. Despite everything I'd just gone through I hadn't moved onto the reef at all. Another wave was looming and I was still squarely in the impact zone. The next wave took me to the fluttering edge of panic, requiring rigid control of calmness. Hard enough when in a still pool for a breathwork course, where external stumulation is near zero, almost impossible when pummelled by Grade 5 rapids and up is down and down is up.
Little moments of monologue:
You put yourself here, you deal with it.
No-one can even see me.
Humans can hold their breath far longer then we're aware.
The reef has to be getting shallower.
Once again I surfaced and once again another wave, though slightly further out, meaning I was slightly further in. As it approached I took a punt and dived a good way down. Touched reef! When the turbulence rolled overhead I put the flats of my feet, no booties, against what felt solid and pushed upwards.
It worked and I got through the whitewash without getting rolled. Big breaths while lolling in the aftertow, stroking to get closer to what I knew now was the rising reef.
A few more smaller bit of whitewash hit but I could keep my head above water at all times and breathe. Water was rushing sideways hard and I struggled to keep my footing without booties. When in shallow enough water I stood upright and spent a minute ot two filling my lungs and getting my breathing back to normal. My head too.
Now, my board? Unlike last time there was no-one in the lagoon signalling its whereabouts, so I walked across the reef, came in just down from Joyos and then began the jog/trudge back up the beach to find it.
I passed the Kiwis sitting on the wooden deck at Jawa Jiwa. "You got flogged, bro!"
"Too right I did. You see my board anywhere?"
"It went that way, bro," and they pointed down towards the boat channel. Silently I cursed their chipper mood and dry feet (when I broached it later on they said the board was way out in the lagoon travelling at a clip so was unable to be rescued).
No point running in the soft sand so I hit the pathway and made like it was Park Run on a Sunday morning and me a MAMIL in a lycra rash vest. Puffing away I passed a few crew wiping sleep from their eyes giving me quizzical looks. No sign of it at the boat channel. Fuck. So I shifted to the sand and kept running north towards 20/20s.
Another five minutes and I hear locals yelling at me from a fire just off the beach. They signal to stop, so I do, and sit.
"Selamat pagi!"
"Ya...."
One of them points north and I see a boat inside the lagoon heading this way. They yell at the boat and the driver responds by standing in the tender then picking up a red surfboard, my board, from the tail and brandishing it high. All laugh.
I said thanks to Captain Salim and later paid him 500,000Rp for his efforts.
Five pancakes barely filled the hole and not long after brekky I began to feel weird. My muscles hurt like the onset of a flu but without the fever or head sickness. It was the last day of the swell but I ended up skipping it all. Slept for six hours that day and backed it up with another twelve that night. Rose feeling fine the next day, with a renewed plan to train harder and maybe skip the Gudangs too.
@ stunet
All in ,
Thanks so much , I'm taking it all in.
It's like I'm there sureal !
never been there and probably never will, but thanks for taking me there stu, awesome read!
This is a great thread. Thank you all. Stu, you're good at mentally noting the important and interesting stuff, and putting it into words.
Thoroughly enjoyed the Bali thread back and forth too while we were there.
Cheers IB, CRG, and all.
Much affection for the country, that wave, and all the people who commit themselves to it. Outside of family interactions there are few things on this earth as rewarding as a day of waves on Indo's west facing coasts followed by sunset beers in easy company with like-minded souls who've travelled there for the same reason you have.
Agree wholeheartedly @Zen, Stu's G land notes in this thread, the post above and the tale of the drop in put me right there, (even riding right foot forward in my mind's eye), I could read a book of that stuff.
Great writing, great website, great value for such a small subscription fee. Thanks boys!
Has any clips/ pics been uploaded on social media by any of the camps etc of this swell?
Be great viewing.
Yep great thread, thanks..... made we want to be there, and not be there at the same time.
andy-mac wrote:
Has any clips/ pics been uploaded on social media by any of the camps etc of this swell?
Be great viewing.
Yep great thread, thanks..... made we want to be there, and not be there at the same time.
Plenty of clips on instagram from various camps .
Supafreak wrote:
Has any clips/ pics been uploaded on social media by any of the camps etc of this swell?Be great viewing.
Yep great thread, thanks..... made we want to be there, and not be there at the same time.
Plenty of clips on instagram from various camps .
Wanna see the drop in on a red board! :)
andy-mac wrote:
Has any clips/ pics been uploaded on social media by any of the camps etc of this swell?Be great viewing.
Yep great thread, thanks..... made we want to be there, and not be there at the same time.
Plenty of clips on instagram from various camps .
Wanna see the drop in on a red board! :)
I must’ve been having a senior moment, it says 22 July 2024 not 2025 .
Heading to G land next week to get scarred up and beaten, never been , any tips any topics from old hands be appreciated. Taking a 7.0, 6.8 & a 6.3.