Cimaja

So it had to happen. The first serious motorbike mission. Yep, the motorbike is on the road! Yikes! I must say, leading up to it, I was more intimidated than actually looking forward to it. As mentioned previously, I am a rookie motorcycle enthusiast, and really, Indonesia is probably not the best place on the planet to learn (worst maybe?). But, I just figured I had to get on that bad boy and ride. If we can’t go on a motorbike surf trip…what exactly are we doing here? J

The background to the mission stems from the fact that I had a 4-day weekend. Like in Canada and probably most countries, Indonesia has official stat holidays – in fact, last time I counted there was about 20 of them, plus/minus. I say “about” because like almost everything here, it’s been hard to get a firm and direct answer to the question. I actually have no idea what the stats are for (does anyone really know?), all I know is that I have Thursday-Friday off, adding up to a nice loooong weekend.

OK, 4 days. Perfect length of time to load up the bike, and head south. South here means towards the south coast of Java, and into the surf zone. All surf in Indonesia is born as swells thousands of kms away and coming from the Southern (Antarctic) and Indian Oceans to the south and southwest, which then break majestically onto the first bit of land they encounter: the south shores of Indonesia.

The closest mapped out surf spot to Bogor is a place called Cimaja (pronounced see-ma-ja), a low-key surf area near the town of Pelabuhan Ratu (see previous posts). Bit of a ride because of the insanity of Indo traffic chaos, and roads laid in by villagers before Columbus discovered the Americas. The 100 or so kms takes about 4 hours. Yep, average speed: 25-30 km/hr, if you’re going 40, you’re killing it.  

The main break at Cimaja is a consistent right-hander that peels off Cimaja Point (starting to get the lingo here J) and breaks on a steep rocky beach with a serious rip. Not beginner friendly unfortunately (I am a zero on a scale from 1 to 10). But from what I can tell listening to my new California surf dude friend, Ryan, (this guy is the poster So-Cal surf dude with the long blond hair, and calls you dude; he’s a beach lifeguard near San Diego, nuff said), it’s a good wave, and worthy of the trip to come here. Sounds promising. Maybe one day we’ll be all growed up and we can surf here J

Fortunately there are other waves around (it is the ocean, after all). The kiddie pool (i.e., beginner area) is a sandy beach break (more lingo) down the road called Samudra. So OK, off to the kiddie pool then. I rented a board and lined up an instructor/guide/lesson (again, not really clear what he is) to take me out there. So in walks Hanki, the standard Indonesian 18-yr-old ripped surfer dude in shorts and flip flops that looks like he was actually born on top of a surf board. OK, so we’re going now? To which he replies: Yes, OK, we take you motobike. What?! Like, with you, and 2 surfboards!? He obviously has no idea that my total accumulated experience with this motorbike is under the average length of a couple good movies. OMG, do we have to? Yes….we do. I don’t know, I thought maybe he would have a van with a nice Thule rack or something. J

So we survived the motorbike shuttle. Barely. On the way back, I mistook a patch of greenery for ground, when in fact it was a 1-m drop off. Both me and the motorbike go down into the depths of the shrubbery. I realize now that having my wet slimy flip flops on was a bad move, and failed to catch my fall, despite the thumbs up reassurance received from 18-yr-old Indo surf dude that flip flops are perfectly good motorcycle footwear. Rookie mistake, won’t happen again. It, or something like it had to happen. Growing pains, as they say. Luckily this was a zero km/hr event, and the biggest damage was done to my manhood.

Insult to injury then occurred when one of the Brazilian surfers witness to the whole debacle calmly asks me “why don’t you use the moto with the surf rack on it?” And there it was, around the corner, the moto with the surf rack on it, generally available for anyone to use. Doooh!! So ya, lesson learned: always ask for, or rent, the standard surf rig in Indo: motorbike with surf board rack. Got it.

So Cimaja. Kind of a strange layout. You wouldn’t know you’ve arrived, unless you have it loaded on your google maps phone app, and the little blue dot tells you you’re there. In fact, I rode right past my accom, The Chill House – the low-budg surfer option, great people, fun times – on the first past. Everything, other than the wave, is nowhere near the water. From what I can tell, surfers don’t seem to care, as long as the wave is good, and you can feasibly get to it somehow. The 5-mins walk down the trail from the road qualifies obviously. Unfortunately though, it’s a tad disappointing to not be living on the water.

Not to worry though. As mostly a recon mission, the area has now been thoroughly scoped out, and the perfect beach bungalows with beer and comfortable chairs (which are shockingly rare here in this land of 90-degree straight-back wooden chairs) has been located down the coast, and complete with beginner beach break. Now all we need is Amy, and another long weekend! No doubt, the topic of a future post. See you then.