In a world where plastic bags are found in the deepest place in the ocean and where ocean levels are rising unchecked, it is good to know that there is only one difference between surfing and statistical environmental science. In the science of it the universe is in control. In surfing, you are. Because Science may provide an understanding of the universal experience, but it is our surfing that provides a universal understanding of our personal experience. Which is why, after 20 stoked years of publishing this magazine, we are even more stoked to tell you that all our environmental efforts are beginning to take hold.
As exclusive as The Lawn in Canggu may look from the outside, it still manages a very organic, tribal vibe on the inside. And the 14th Annual Surftime awards, held there on September 22nd was just that. More of a family gathering than an awards night, this assembly of the best and brightest of our surfing community was at once a joyous, raucous and very, very loud affair.
Canggu is all on it’s own. Once an outpost, now a surfing colony, it’s been cut off. The natural disaster known as tourism and development, combined with a total lack of subsequent infrastructure, has resulted in a geographical isolation due to snarled traffic. From Kuta to Canggu, a bad best of an hour of breathing near pure carbon monoxide, this traffic is a result of a massive exodus of adventurers, scoundrels, criminals and vegans who have forged Canggu into the most outlandish surfing community in the world.
Although just the mention of the word Java has been enough to send imaginations soaring throughout history, to the modern surfer it holds even more mystery than most imaginations are capable of. With a deadly, rough coast, ship eating waters, volcanic events that alter the very tectonic plates beneath us and over 1000 kilometers of exposed coastline, this 13th largest island in the world remains one of our last unexplored surf zones.
In 1991, a heartbroken Aussie surfer named Lance Knight lies awake and dreams of a perfect wave all to himself. He wakes up determined to move forward. He finds some Marine charts of the Indian Ocean and starts mapping out rumors he’s heard. He decides on a small island called Sipora, off West Sumatra. Having traveled most of the way from Australia overland, He arrives in the capital of Padang by bus.