84 jul/aug 20<strong>12</strong> www.deweyweber.com.au
TRAVEL: THE MALDIVES Over a few beers in Arugam Bay, Sri Lanka, Victorian surfer Jules Tehan and mates Ofer and Chris had a flash of inspiration… Could it be possible to explore the Maldives on the cheap – not to do it by a surf boat or luxury resort – but to stay on local islands, eat local and get around on local ferries? There’d be no surf safari boat, no luxury resort and no guidebook - just have to fly into Male and figure it out from there. The plan was to score world-class waves while travelling on a tight-arse budget. Using the powerful logic a dozen beers creates, the three concluded there was only one way to find out. WORDS AND PHOTOS: JULES TEHAN We stepped out onto the tarmac a week later and were greeted by the neon lights welcoming us to the Male International Airport, our naive idea quickly started to become reality. Male is the capital and the primary transport hub. It’s a cosmopolitan city covering the entire 2km by 3km island, where the call to prayer is easily heard over the whole island. For most visitors it’s just a meeting point for their resort transfer. There’s one main break and nearby Villingilli Island also works on a big swell. With 1-2 foot closeouts, neither option seemed appealing, so it was time to move. After scanning and comparing maps to get our next destination, we heeded local advice and headed south to Guridhoo Island, as it looked likely to have three accessible breaks: Riptide at the west end of the island which breaks with most swells, holding up to 10ft; the very racy hollow left-hander of Foxy’s that breaks over a super shallow reef; and the shallow, fast, right-hand barrelling reef break on the other side of the neighbouring island of Kandooma. We boarded the old wooden ferry heading to Guridhoo and stowed our boards amongst shopping bags, boxes of fresh fruit, fresh bread, pieces of furniture, motor scooters and random household items of mops, brooms, lights and a new fridge. Local families on board watched us quietly but curiously. The ferry headed south from the aquagreen waters of the Male dock and in no time we were passing by luxury resort wooden huts nestled together over lagoons. Dolphins drifted by in the distance and flying fish continuously leapt out of the way of our slow noisy vessel. Word must have spread quickly of our pending arrival because Amman - a short, thin wiry local fisherman, father of eight and man-abouttown – was there to greet us at the dock. He’d taken the liberty of waiting to show us all of our accommodation options on his island. Little did we know that Amman, his thirteen brothers and their wives and families, made up the vast majority of the island’s population and had good reason to know exactly what our options were. We scouted the small tropical island made up of dirt roads, brightly painted concrete houses and narrow streets occupied only by pedestrian traffic, and quickly settled on the empty surf-camp style local hostel that was easily within the realms of budget accommodation. First thing next morning we set off to check the offerings of Riptide. Breaking over an isolated reef some 500m off the island, it is reached by walking first across a shallow sandy reef, paddling out over a narrow deep channel, and then into the break. We reached it in ten minutes to find an empty break made up of 3-4ft right-handers peeling inconsistently across the reef. Added to this was the discovery of aquamarine water so clear the reef itself, the colour of its coral and the bright tropical fish only metres below, were clearly visible while sitting out the back. We savoured it all morning, with the only interruption being a pod of some 200 dolphins passing through the channel we had just crossed earlier. Riptide provided a mixture of waves over the next few days, shared with the occasional passing surf boat. We still needed to get access to Kandooma Right though. It is situated on the opposite side of the neighbouring Kandooma Resort island, which is separated from Guridhoo by a shallow channel 20m wide. Relying on complete naivety and some gall, we paddled straight across the channel and attempted to sneak straight across the resort island to the break. But in less than a minute we were confronted by at least four island security guards. No powers of persuasion would convince them to change their minds, and sent us straight back across to our island. The next logical step was to negotiate a ride with local fisherman, but this was becoming as complex as the Middle East peace negotiations and was ridiculously priced for the distance involved. So with a mild dose of dengue fever putting Ofer out of action, Chris and I decided we’d paddle to Kandooma Right. jul/aug 20<strong>12</strong> 85