You judge by the amount of board-bags being loaded onto the ferry how many other surfers you will be sharing waves with. If you're heading to Sumba you look for tags labelled Wiangapu. Less than ten board-bags and everything is cool because only one ferry stops there from Bali each week, while another stops in every ten days.

Most surfers disembark an island earlier in Sumbawa, to surf the mechanical yet ridiculously crowded waves at Huu. Sumba, harbours no such blessed surf locations and is isolated in its southern location. Throw in misinformation in a main surf guidebook and unconventional surf-camps, and it all becomes a bit hazy for surf-starved travellers looking for safer odds. Even the official tourist brochure of West Sumba, with enticements such as, "there is a shore with one of the longest waves in the world for surfing, and for people who like to have fishing adventure, the sea is offering blue and black marvin games", doesn't seemed to have opened the tourist floodgates.

My first trip to Sumba was in 1997. There were six of us to be exact; an instant crowd, not that it made any difference. On arrival in the port town of Wiangapu, we opted to charter a bemo straight to the wave known as Occy's Left, made famous in the film The Green Iguana. We stayed for ten days at the small village of Watukarere, which overlooks the surf break from high in the hills. As is custom in Sumba, we made an offering of betel nut and cigarettes to the village head. Chief Mete Bulu and his wife Maria were used to catering for a slow trickle of surfers, who were housed in a traditional peak-roofed house.








On the way in, we had passed a solitary surfer walking to the main road to catch a lift out. But he was the only surfer we saw, for ten days it was just the six of us. Each day we'd trudge down the hillside through the forest, out onto the ride paddies below and then five hundred metres along the beach to the wave. It was a peaceful walk, a kind of pre-surf meditation, and on the hot walk back up there was a spring in the forest to cool off at.

The waves were four-foot for the whole ten days. Fun but not exactly what you visit Indo for - was the break a fickle hoax? It was too hard to tell. The woodwork inside the house was carved with moans and bitches from visiting surfers about the wave. The jury was out and we left Sumba having only visited Nihiwatu.


Four years later I returned with two friends, John and Adam. Our first destination was the expansive horseshoe bay at Tarimbang. Its right-hand point attracts most surfers who visit Sumba. The wave is an odd mixture of hollow intensity and faceless fat sections. To get out to this wave requires a paddle about 800 metres each way, an exercise which becomes a bit of a chore.

After three days the swell dropped and we'd had enough of paddling. It's not easy finding transport down Sumba's rugged dead end roads. But at least anything that moves is transport - trucks, jeeps, bemos, they'd all take our money. We left in a battered Land Cruiser, eight surfers and backpackers squashed inside. The four Sumbanese sat on the bonnet, able to jump clear should've the jeep faltered on the steep roads out of Tarimbang.

Our next stop was Watukarere and Nihiwatu Beach, and we were unsure of what to expect. In front of the wave at Nihiwatu is the Sumba Reef Lodge aka Nihiwatu Resort. When we were there in 1997, its only occupant was a caretaker. But it was now open for business with guests paying US$200 per night.

In the 'Surfing Indonesia' guidebook, the wave described as being the subject of some publicity in the past was now said to be 'off limits to all tourists, including surfers'. It described the area as an eco-tourism project exclusive to Nihiwatu guests - enough to stop most people from going. Claude Graves, the American owner of Nihiwatu Resort, was also the author of the Sumba chapter of this guidebook, and everything seemed a little strange.

Chief Mete Bulu and Maria greeted Adam, John and I when we arrived at Watukarare late one night. We offered betel nut and cigarettes and were housed in a new concrete building, which Mete Bulu must have decided visiting surfers would prefer. This was disappointing because staying in the old peak-roofed house was part of the Sumba vibe, but at least we were welcome this far, much to our relief.

An American named Randy was the only surfer staying at Watukarare. He'd been travelling continuously for nineteen years, working as a fisherman when he had to. Well travelled, he had numerous stories to tell. The one about the police-raping gay Mexican bandito born out of incest, with three fingers on each hand was disturbing, making us thankful to be in Sumba. To a lone warrior like Randy, four must have been a crowd, and before long he set off to an unknown location.

The walk down through the forest, over the rice paddies and along the beach hadn't changed. The wave however was totally different from the one of four years ago. It had turned into a solid beast, glassy and hollow, enticing but worthy of initial caution and respect. For ten days, the swell pumped and only the mood of the wave changed, subtle yet significant changes demanding alertness and concentration.

Strangely, the Nihiwatu Lodge was all but empty during most of this time. An American navy diver named Paul was its only guest. Owner Claude Graves was away and if the beach was off limits then we weren't aware of it. Paul seemed happy to share the waves with what were now four other surfers. Steve, an Australian who had a long time desire to surf Nihiwatu, had joined us at Watukarare.

One morning we headed down the track for one of our last surfs at Nihwatu. Steve got down to the beach way before us and when we came down he wasn't sitting in our usual spot. Claude Graves was back with some guests and had asked him to move along the beach where he wouldn't be noticed. It hardly mattered because we were ready to leave, but question marks still remained.


In the meantime John flew home, and Adam, Steve and I went west to Pero in a bemo called Tragedy, which our driver picked us up in on a flat tyre. Sumba bemos carry no spares and he forced Tragedy 20km to Waikabubak on the flat tyre before the rim and axle began to overheat. Problem fixed we made it out west, and ended up staying in the village of Ratan Garo, right in front of a beach covered in huge megalith tombstones.

Unfortunately a flat spell was upon us. We lived in our host's peak-roofed house; our every move scrutinised by dozens of staring eyes. Out here we were a novelty. This region was remarkably poorer than east and central Sumba, money was almost non-existent and we were constantly asked for cigarettes. The overbearing attention and lack of waves ground us down, forcing us to retreat to the town of Waikabubak for our final few days in Sumba.

But doubt over Nihiwatu still remained. Would it be open to surfers in years to come? It was well known that Mete Bulu and Graves had had many disputes over the years and at certain times Graves had tried to keep people from surfing the wave. Weeks before John, Adam and I had visited Nihiwatu, Graves had issued two surfers with trespass notices. I had to make contact with Claude Graves to clarify his position in respect to the wave.


Graves told me the track from Watukarare, down to the beach is owned by Nihiwatu Resort. Apparently there is no way to access the beach without crossing the resorts land. Up until now an issue had not been made of trespassing across the resorts property because few people had been staying at Watukarare. But the resort has recently employed marketing reps in USA, Europe and Australia who are selling Nihiwatu as an up-market hideaway for divers, bird watchers and Europeans interested in culture.

Because these guests will be expecting an exclusive property, from March 2002 the resort will be invoking its rights to keep non-Nihiwatu guests off its property, which includes the beach.

Graves went on to say that the government authorities are aware of this problem and supportive of the decision to keep access through the property restricted. "They know that 12 high end accommodation units will bring in more tax income than 150 losmen rooms selling at $15 per room. It's important to note that less people equates to less pollution and cultural conflict".

"We are the largest single employer and taxpayer on the island. We provide aid to the people where the government cannot. Through our marketing we are providing a world-wide awareness of Sumba. We initiated the expansion of the Tambolaka airport. We funded and built the 12 kilometres of land accessing Rua and Lamboya. We are building a new clinic at Hobawawi. We are purchasing our own drilling rig so that drinking water wells can be provided to the local villages. All local people from up to 1km outside the property boundary can access the reef and beach, tourists not staying at Nihiwatu cannot. All of this is clearly stated in contract".

When asked why he became involved in the Periplus Surfing Indonesia guidebook, when there was clear conflict of interests, he replied, "I didn't want to be involved with the Periplus or any other guide for that matter. But I was convinced to and my reasoning at the time was that by writing the article I could write Nihiwatu out of it". This was good for a few of us because it kept the crowds down, but was it what people should expect from an objective guidebook?

The majority of surfers, who travel on a limited budget are now to be denied. We stay in the village living simply like the locals, enjoying the culture and surf. What about the money the surfers bring to Watukarere? "The financial contribution of surfers at Watukarare is negligible. I know the amount for the last two years and it amounts to only about 2 weeks of Nihiwatu's contribution" said Graves.

"We have established a non profit organisation called the Sumba Foundation. The purpose is to turn the resort over to the foundation and all of the resorts profits will be used for aid projects in Sumba.

The waves will never stop at Nihiwatu, Tarimbang, Kodi, and Kalala or at the other great places you don't yet know about. Regrettably the only difference is that the other places will become, yet again, additional surf slums on the map of Indonesia. Like G-Land, Rote, Sumbawa and Sumatra, Sumba, once publicised will be inundated with too many surfers, losmen and the bad vibes that go with it all.

The problem is not really with the surfers. It's with the surf industry, the surf magazines, guides and product sellers who create the awareness of the new locations. Remember 'the search' it what it's all about".

But Graves was the one who had given Nihiwatu its profile. He invited Occy and Jack McCoy to come and make The Green Iguana, which created the awareness of this new location. And now he's trying to hush it up, claiming exclusive ownership to the beach accessing this five-star wave. What's worse is that most of Nihiwatu's guests don't come for the surf, which leaves the wave predominantly unutilised.

Most locals we talked to said that the beach was government property, and open to everyone. Graves states that ownership of the beach is the jurisdiction of the local government. "As far as I know Indonesians have the right to access beaches in most but not all places. In some area designated for tourism, even locals don't have the right to access a hotel's beach. I don't agree with that but that's the way it is" he says.

When asked how he would stop surfers from walking across the beach he said, "I'll let the government decide the best way to sort access out. So far they've suggested us building a barbed wire fence and having access gates for the local people to use. Police support has also been offered. I will be planting a 'living' border fence this rainy season. This fence will consist of trees closely planted together and will be 6km long".

I put it to him that if the beach can be owned, then at least the ocean can't. What would he do when people started turning up in boats? "I would leave that to the local government to decide. My immediate concern is trespass on private property".

It's amazing what money can buy, especially in a cash strapped area. Unless you have $US200 per night to spare, Nihiwatu will soon be off limits. That's unless you own a boat, or can find any other way to run the gauntlet and get out to the wave, to surf what belongs to everyone or no one at all.

by Paul Kennedy © 2007