After decades of documenting the Mentawai Islands, I still find it refreshing coming back here with a camera.
Even when the trades are howling, these islands are ridiculously photogenic. Blue water, hollow peaks, colourful skies and nine days living on a boat, exposed to every little change in wind and swell. There’s always something to shoot, even when the surfing conditions aren’t cooperating.
Back in 2012, I reckon we brought one of the first drones into this region. It was a massive, custom-built octocopter carrying a brand-new Canon 1DX and lens. We flew it a couple of times before it malfunctioned near Teles and dropped straight into the Indian Ocean.
Drone. Camera. Lens. Gone.
We lost a small fortune and did the only sensible thing. Drank beers for the rest of the day.
I called the post Black Hawk Down.
Fast-forward 14 years and drones are everywhere out here. The technology has come so far that we’re launching tiny drones while the boat is hammering along. We use them to shoot, navigate reef passes, check beachbreak banks and even hunt for undocumented waves.
The Mentawais have changed too. There are more boats, more land camps and definitely more surfers. It’s almost impossible to doom-scroll Instagram without seeing someone tucked into a Mentawai barrel.
I’m also surprised by how many beginners are coming here now. These waves aren’t particularly forgiving. The reefs are brutally sharp and mistakes can have serious consequences. Just a few days ago we saw someone needing evacuation after a heavy impact, and over the years I’ve seen mates leave here with some pretty serious wounds.
But despite the crowds and development, it’s still an incredibly special place.
It’s remote. It’s hard to get to. It takes effort.
And maybe that’s exactly why it remains so good.
If it was easy to get here, imagine what it would look like.
Look at Bali.
That’s my last post from this part of the archipelago. We’re moving north now, past Nias and onto Simeulue.
:: uge
You always make my day Thank you Uge