Having just got back from a somewhat unauthorized journey to Grajagan, or G-Land as it’s commonly referred to, I couldn’t help but notice something more than the multitude of crazy critters, English-language-butchering Aussies, the wave itself (a fucking beast!), and the impenetrable, thicker than hell jungle. It was the accessories. Reef walker booties, surf hats, traction pads, nose guards, removable fins–anything you could imagine under the guise “surf accessory” I saw. There was one guy who really took the cake however. We’ll call him “Wilbur” because I didn’t want to talk to him for fear I might catch his over-accessorized disease, rumored to be worse than the ever-present threat of malaria.
It amazed me that “Wilbur” could even paddle. Starting from the top, Wilbur had his sun-protecting, flapping-in-the-face, surf hat, his grill was covered with a thick coat of white sunscreen, a long sleeve rash guard was under his short john wetsuit, a waterproof watch that probably told the time in every damn corner of the world was attached to his wrist, and on his feet were those silly reef walker booties that “reef phobics” wear. Unfortunately it didn’t stop there. His surfboard had a nose guard, was covered in traction, and he sported a leash (understandable). Oh yeah, “Wilbur” also had a pack of some sort strapped to the small of his back that held god-knows-what. A video camera? Evacuation routes from the island? A how-to-look-like-a-dork book? Yes, “Wilbur” had it all, except one glaring omission: a wave count. I never saw the guy get one freaking wave.
The moral of the story is “keep it simple.” A bunch of crap hanging off your body and board doesn’t make you surf better, it just makes you look stupid!
By the way, the waves were just as good as youï¿½ve heard, and believe it or not, the price of staying at the three camps there has dropped over the years. I paid less than one hundred and fifty dollars for four days, including meals and transportation. Go there; just leave all your accessories at the surf shop.