G-LAND ISN’T ALWAYS GNARLY

It all started with a volcano. Rising 3031 meters above sea level, Gunung Agung lords over the island of Bali. The Hindu people of Bali believe that each earth day begins when the first rays of the morning sun touch the volcano’s summit. They call this moment “the morning of the world.” In 1972, a young Australian filmmaker named Alby Falzon debuted a fledgling surf film which featured the first idyllic images of surfing in Bali. He had borrowed the name of his movie from this Hindu summit belief, naming his movie Morning of the Earth instead. And from the moment it flickered on screen in Australia, surfing in Indonesia would never be the same. Surfers flocked to Bali in droves to ride her absolutely perfect waves. Bali was flaming sunsets over golden beaches, postcards of bare-breasted native women, and swirling, impossibly colorful dance troupes in terrifying masks. Fully booked airlines landing on Bali International’s runway 090 afforded a dream view out the starboard windows of the five best waves on the planet marching down the Bukit Peninsula. Surfers would deliberately book their seats on the right side of the aircraft just for the chance to glimpse this otherworldly sight. Bali was exotic, friendly, and cheap. Everything from beach huts to beer was always near at hand for the budget surfer. Why, oh why, look any further for a surfing Shangri-la? Yet it was inevitable that all these global surfing pilgrimages would eventually interrupt the idyll. And as the crowds grew and grew, a few minds turned to the possibility of new discoveries. After all, Indonesia was a country of 17,500 islands. And the fire was lit. And the first place the outer island expansion found was in the Alas Purwo Nature reserve on the edge of a dry jungle named Plengkung. A magnifcient cape of perfect, powerful waves in a jungle setting tailor made to create myths and legends.

And so, named after the fishing village on the northeast base of the great bay called Grajagan, G-land was thrust into the consciousness of the entire surfing world. Today, almost 50 years later, it remains not only the longest running established surf camp in the world, but a playground for international surfers and locals alike. Though its reputation has been solidified by images of giant powerful barrels, there is a kinder side to G-land for those in the know. Especially local families seeking a launching pad for their surfing young. Which is exactly what happened recently when Andrew Nalendra, impresario and owner of this magazine, invited his friends and family to Bobby’s G-Land Camp for a smaller swell jamboree. Along with such luminaries as Bob Hurley, it was the perfect opportunity for Andrew to introduce his two kids, Paris and Helio, to the tubular charms of G-Land without the thundering awe that a big swell brings to the place. These days G-Land is many things to many people and will always be on the radar for any surfer, whether seeking the adrenaline rush of a big swell, or the charm of the simpler magic of calmer days.

Day’s end at G-Land always brings jungle reflections and fire and the imaginings of the tomorrow.

Like any good Father, Andrew Nalendra, shows his cubs how it’s done. There is something sacred about surfing with your children. A timeless right and a sacred act.

Suri Jabrik, 15yrs

SInventive, Committed, Graceful.

Training Grounds: Canggu

Surftime Call:“Ignores the challenge of being a girl in the line-up. She just goes out and puts in 100% everytime. The boys treat her as an equal in the line-up and her surfing measures up”. Photography by Tim Hain

Shia Jabrik, 10yrs

Smooth, confident, aware. Training grounds: Canguu

Surftime Call: “His wave judgement is the key. He reads the ocean, gets the right waves. He surfs like he has listened to Indonesian Champion Dad”. Photography by Tim Hain