Sacred Caves
Words by Angus Piper
Waves play, the trade wind whistles softly, sculpting steamroller sets lined up, patiently waiting their turn to be danced on by the feet of all nations. Slightly dazed in what feels like eternal sun, jagged cliffs dressed with green remind me where I am, the island of the gods.
Ten days ago, exhausted but excited I arrived in Bali for the incoming swell of the season. I have been all over the world surfing but was yet to dip my toes into the turquoise drink that almost swallows Indonesia. I wondered, is this place going to live up to its name?
As sunset begins I am surrounded by smiles and laughter, the Bintangs begin to flow and this feeling floats to the sky in a haze of tobacco smoke. You can see the salt on peoples skin and it sparkles in their eyes as turns and barrels are talked up, with the waves of eternity hanging over their heads like stars. Groups of friends split as the normal boundaries of who you can talk to come crashing down. The crowd is from everywhere you can imagine, I hear brash German, fine French, not so subtle Spanish, Aussie twang and intimate Indonesian. These voices form the song that surfers dance to, with nothing to do and all day to do it.
What took me by surprise was the true friendliness of every local around, nothing but smiles and winks as they laugh at Aussies struggling with the spice of an Indo classic, Nasi Goreng. I asked a local, Aldo, who has been living in Bali for most of his life, how the locals remain like this, amidst drunken tourists, moped incidents, plain disrespect, and the tragedy of a crowded line-up. Aldo simply said:
‘You guys are the reason we can survive, Bali is tourism, and everyone wants to come back to a friendly face’
Aldo also said ‘And I love watching people try to walk over the reef at low tide’
Some of the happiest people in the world I have met.
When I first set my eyes on the famed Uluwatu I let out an audible gasp, it really felt like heaven at once, seemingly endless lines of swell with a red eye sun using each wave as a canvas of colour. The maze wedged between cliffs, dotted with bars and restaurants, all with one collective, to surf or simply watch. You see ambitious surfers nervously smiling as they descend into sacred caves whilst battered, tired faces slowly pace upwards, undoubtedly smashed to bits on a not so friendly reef.
Although these days it can be viewed as such a ‘scene’ with plenty of surf and boutique shops, it still has a beautiful Indonesian charm intertwined in its web, with local Warungs and the countless street vendors giving you a breath of fresh air.
I cautiously wonder what this place will be in 10 years, with resorts popping up like pimples and rubbish becoming uncontrollable, will the gods heaven be preserved?
I would like to believe so and I implore all who visit to be respectful and to do our best to preserve what is certainly one of the wonders of the world, at least for us surfers.
Waves continue to break as the ocean continues to sing, an ode to the traveling surfer and the sacred caves of Bali.
