2008: The "Bintang over Basics" Era

My first ever surf was in Bali back in 2008 when I travelled there with two friends who already knew how to surf. They showed me some basics, taught me how to do a knee pop-up, and sent me on my way on a 6'4 step-up that we bought in a Kuta secondhand surf shop. No soft-tops, no longboards, nothing.

I spent about one month using that board in Kuta, Canggu, and Medewi just winging it, without any surf lessons. We were poor students at the time, and spending 20 euros on a surf lesson instead of Bintangs seemed like a waste of money. In the end, we were racking up quite a wave-count every session. Look, the pop-up included at least one knee (and sometimes two), the waves were almost exclusively closeouts and whitewash, but I had a blast!

The Turning Point: Taking It Seriously at 30

After that month, I never really picked up surfing again except for the few times I returned to Bali and took some lessons with local surf schools. When I turned 30, I asked my family and friends to get me a Catch Surf 6’6 soft-top (54L). This is when I decided to take up surfing as a real hobby. I got myself a nice 3/2 summer wetsuit and started going out whenever I saw waves at my home break in the Netherlands.

I did not know how to read forecasts, understand wind impact, or time the tide windows—I was just winging it. Eventually, I got in contact with the local surf community and joined a WhatsApp group. There was a lot of collective knowledge about the surf forecasts in that group, so I just followed along whenever they said it would be good. This went on for a few years; I would go out two to three times per month during the summer, and basically stopped from November until April when the water got too cold for my 3/2.

Post-COVID: The Volume Progression Trap

Fast forward to after COVID: my family and I went to Bali for six months, and I decided to buy a surf lesson package from a local surf school. This included five lessons, a day trip to Medewi, and surfing on my own as much as I could. To begin with, I bought a 6'6 Kayu board of around 40-something liters. This was not a good board to restart my lessons on, as it lacked the buoyancy and stability you want to maximize wave catching and riding. There were still plenty of waves, but let’s say 4-5 waves per hour in combination with many falls and missed waves.

I ended up selling it and getting a 6'4, 44L CI Rocket Wide-inspired board from local shaper Robi Hendra. I decided to go with these dimensions after using a brandless 7'0 provided by the surf school during my lessons, followed by trying out my instructor's personal 6'4 Channel Islands Rocket Wide. After trying his actual 6'4, it felt like the right board to continue my surfing journey on. In those dimensions, the board can be considered a groveler, which is great for catching waves.

This was my first shortboard. I thought I was surfing pretty well by then; I managed to catch quite a few waves by myself every time I went out and started experimenting with turns, though nothing top-to-bottom yet. During the last two months of that post-COVID Bali stay, I purchased a Pyzel Phantom 6’2 to continue my improvement. I wanted to try moving up to a daily driver with less volume to help improve my duckdiving, and I ended up having a blast on this board in Bali as well as when we were back home in the Netherlands.

The 11-Month Reality Check

When the family and I went for another 11-month adventure to Bali, I decided to get a copy of a Pyzel Mini Ghost 6’0. This board seemed like a slightly more performant daily driver, well-suited for the Bali waves. Arriving in Bali, I figured I would not need surf lessons anymore, so I started paddling out on my own. However, I noticed that there was something very different about the Bali waves compared to the Dutch waves—there was immense power, and I missed a lot of waves. I initially thought it must be the board, but in hindsight, it was my overall surfing strength, endurance, and skill.

I took another three lessons with the same surf school I used before, and they gave me typical tips like, “work on paddle fitness,” “work on mobility,” “your pop-up needs to be more explosive,” and “you probably need a bigger board.” While all of that was true, it was not helping my progression at all.

Instead, I bought a 6'8 Big Baron mid-length. Combined with a little additional paddle fitness gained from struggling in the water for a month or so, I ended up catching a lot of waves. My pop-up still sucked (using 1 knee), but the Big Baron was so forgiving that I could easily recover and flow down the line, sometimes catching 250 to 300-meter waves at Kedungu and Medewi without any issues. My pop-up had become a sort of two-step movement: after I popped up, I would land on my back knee and front foot, and only after that would I step up into my full surf stance.

The Dry-Land Training Illusion

This was the point where I figured I just needed to surf more and work on my explosiveness and mobility using YouTube, Instagram, and ChatGPT programs to fix my pop-up. According to those sources, it shouldn't be hard at all. Just do 90-90 movements, mountain climbers, bear-to-surf-stance pop-ups, and practice 10 slow and fast pop-ups every day on dry land. Seems easy, right?

In reality, I ended up not progressing my pop-up at all for a period of eight months. Even though the Big Baron was working well, I was still convinced I was an intermediate surfer and wanted another shortboard similar to my Phantom, but this time a twin fin. The Christenson Lane Splitter was getting a lot of hype from reviewers all over the world at that time, so it seemed like an awesome board to buy. I ended up getting one and loved it right away—it went amazingly once I was on my feet. Still, I never really got the feeling that I was in control of my take-off. I had simply learned how to match the speed of the waves on all the boards I was riding, especially when going frontside.

Sumba and Facing the Backside Flaws

At the end of my 11-month Bali stay, I went on a week-long surf trip to Sumba with a friend and had the time of our lives—sick waves, amazing spots, and incredible people. The waves were way outside of my comfort zone, but my surf bravado really progressed there. I surfed bigger and more slabby waves than I ever had before. It turns out all you need to do is try one, fail horribly, and realize that you are still completely fine after wiping out.

But still, the take-off felt very sketchy. I noticed this especially when going backside, where I could not compensate for my technique and catch up to the waves like I am able to do on my frontside.

Enter my first real surf coaching experience…..