August 12th 2025: Johari windows in the Ments

Day 10 on any surf trip gets a bit strange. People started getting weird, familiarity and comfort breeds an environment where everyone's Johari window slides wide open – that's a psychological model that describes how much you share about yourself with others. Shy, quiet people have a closed Johari window. I don't mind the wide open Johari windows – I'm not judging anyone and really like to see people's quirks and individual characters come through.

But by Day 10 the wheels can really fall off the happy, super-positive, group-dynamic bus. I brace for it, but on this year's Mentawais trip it never came. Instead, a new swell filled our heads with dread and fear and excitement – all at once. 

We'd taken a slightly different approach this year – guided by Sumatran Surfariis' legendary guide, Scuzz, we avoided the main spots and had a field day at spots with no names and often copping the brunt of a swell. Having surfers of a very good level on board helped a lot. That meant we could hit the bigger spots without any real concern.

So when we arrived at a magnet that is usually the last roll of the dice on flat days we weren't out of our depth, but certainly on our tippy toes. Scuzz and Dave Lyons immediately paddled around the corner to the bigger and more raw giants detonating on the outside, while the rest of the crew gingerly paddled into the arena. 

The bigger sets were often backed up by even bigger ones making any sort of comfort level difficult to grasp. For some reason 63-year-old Phil Isaac, who has been travelling for surf since the '80s, decided the smaller 4-5 footers had better shape. His approach was to sit inside to catch those and dart out to avoid the bigger sets. I'm not completely sure he'd read the arena right, but you don't question a man with that much experience.

In the meantime a lone figure stood on the reef way up and around the corner. Dave's leash had come off and he'd had to swim after his board. He then decided to paddle back out through the sets. I did not think that was possible. I expected we'd see him come rushing past in the river of whitewater that was raging around the island. 

Then, all of a sudden, Phil was consumed by a wave that ripped his leash off. He was left swimming around in the foaming river without any buoyancy. Given the white water had been churned up so much with more air than water, it is almost impossible to swim in. You just sink to the reef until the air bubbles leave the water column. Phil was experiencing that firsthand as he tried to; stay alive and get to shore without shredding his legs on the reef. He eventually made it, which was a huge relief for us all. He reckoned he very nearly didn't. 

Somehow Dave managed to punch back out, we found Phil's board and the grommets, oblivious, continued taking turns dropping into the big walls together like they were at Waimea Bay. 

Needless to say, the post-surf debrief was a doozy. 

See you at the beach, Derek

PS We have some exciting things looming for Box of Light readers. We're about to finally launch our photo workshops and we're planning our first 28-day photo expedition to Sumatra. If you're keen on a workshop or a photography expedition that will put you in the jungle with orangutans, elephants, maybe even Sumatran tigers, plus give you access to the remote Mentawai Islands, then get in touch and we'll add you to the list so you can be first to hear about them. These trips are very limited with numbers so don't hesitate. More to be revealed soon ...