58 59

The Oceansof Kandui

Talking about it is running

your mouth at a backyard

barbeque.

Doing it means moving

to Indonesia.

Talking about it means

endlessly poking around

Google Earth and posing

bullshit questions like,

“I wonder what that point’s

like on a full moon?”

Doing it means selling

the farm and wandering

completely off the grid,

building a dream out of raw

clay with your bare hands.

That’s what it meant

for John and Ainsely Ocean.

Jungled Upwith Johnand AinsleyOcean

explains John in a follow-up some weeks later. “He also

knew we had a little bit of money to start a project, which

eventually became Kandui. So we sold our farm and left

with our backpacks stuffed.”

“After doing much research, watching September

Sessions over and over, as well as a National Geographic

special on the Mentawai Islands we were prepared—or so

we thought,” adds Ainsley. “We were ready for our dreams

of a wave-filled future, where it’s always offshore at that

secret spot, and we’re all just shredding. You know the

dream: we wanted to surf more and live simply. The Big

Island just wasn’t hitting the spot in the wave department,

and we needed to get away from crowded surf, the war on

terror, away from the TV and crack heads. It was simple,

we wanted to go back in time…and we have.”

The Oceans were married in 1999 after a chance

meeting down a lonely Big Island road. John had arrived

by way of Long Beach and Oahu, Ainsely via New Zealand

and Canada to the Islands. By 2004 they’d sold the farm to

their then caretaker, liquidated all their other assets and

animals, and officially pulled up stakes in search what

Thoreau called, “a deliberate existence.” Armed with “board

“How we got here? Planes, cars, boats, smiles, tears,

and many a hard lesson learned,” says Ainsley.

“We met on the Big Island and were married on an

11' 11" tandem board we called The General,” she continues.

“John shaped and glassed it.”

It’s hard to pinpoint specifically where her words

are coming from. She’s e-mailing either from a satellite

connection somewhere in the Mentawai Islands or maybe

from an Internet café in Padang. Who knows? The safe

assumption is she’s somewhere in the nether reaches of

Sumatra.

“We owned and operated Ocean’s Organic

Avocadoes on the Big Island of Hawaii,” says Ainsley. “John

has a streak of Doctor Doolittle in him, so we were always

surrounded by animal friends. We had sheep, peacocks,

ducks, cats, turkeys, monkeys, bats, anteaters, and a lot

of dogs. We bred Neapolitan Mastiffs and shipped them

around the world. Our organic farm was happening, and

we were eating like royalty. Looking back, maybe it was in

preparation for so many meals of fish and rice in the future.”

“We had an acquaintance in Hawaii who was

working in the Mentawai islands and knew I was a carpenter,”

62

another tsunami. We dragged anchor, and our boat ended

up on the beach.

Overcoming the initial cultural and environmental

shock, their lives began to find real purpose. “We pretty

much spent the first three years building and working on

Kandui,” explains John.

As the boat trip fad started to wane and the

popularity of land-based camps grew, Kandui blossomed,

hosting A-list surfers like Kelly Slater and Andy Irons.

Business blew up. The Oceans became disenchanted. “We

realized it wasn’t what we wanted,” admits John. “It had

become too commercialized, so we left. We just wanted

the lifestyle and weren’t really after the money—just the

good life. So we bought a boat in Sibolga.

“We wanted to get around and see more of the

islands,” says Ainsely, “so we rebuilt the wooden hull into

a houseboat by scavenging and salvaging driftwood from

around the Mentawais. We spent a lot of time at anchor

in so many neat nooks and crannies. In the off season it’s

so quiet out here.”

“We motored around the islands for a couple years,

worked for Surf Aid, helped with the Quiksilver Community

Center, and earthquake assessment in south Pagai after the

8.0 quake hit Padang in 2008,” recounts John.

bags packed to the brim, a tent, an Alaskan chainsaw mill,

a spear gun, a random orbital sander, a book about what to

do when there’s no doctor around, and some avocado seeds,”

they set out into the idyllic Indonesian island chain.

“Within the first few months of being out here,

we went through some pretty gnarly electrical storms,” says

John. “I got hit by lightning.”

“Mother nature is the boss out here, that’s for sure,”

affirms Ainsley. “Earthquakes, tsunamis, raging tempests,

wind, rain, sun, lightning, fire, insects, animals. Seems like

the planet is under siege sometimes. We like to say only the

strong survive out here. One exceptionally vicious night

lightning hit a coconut tree beside our tent and we got

zapped liked no body’s business…glad we were floating on

our rubber air mattress, which was kind of serving as a boat

as it was raining so hard. John was zapped by lightning

again this year. He is a magnetic kind of guy. Three times

is a charm, or so I’ve heard.”

“Then there were the earthquakes and tsunami

in Aceh,” says John. “The big ones always seem to happen

at night. One week we experienced over 300 quakes,

relatively small ones, but most were right under us, which

makes them feel big. After one small tsunami we vacated

the island and went out to sea on a charter boat in fear of

tattooed sailor out here, even himself. I’m the nurse. I

prepare the tools and bail, with no interest in blood.”

“No Haagen-Dazs, that’s the hardest thing,”

confesses John, acknowledging that sometimes it’s the

little things in life that you miss most. “But really, maybe

one of the biggest challenges is reaching an understanding

with some of the locals. They’re so poor and sometimes

drive me crazy for the smallest amount, uang roko, or

smoke money. Then again, not having to deal with all the

laws and rules of the modern world is pretty nice. And

out here you meet a lot of interesting people you never

would have otherwise.”

And as for lessons learned and the evolution of

their relationship? “I think the biggest thing we have

learned is to accept ourselves and other people for who

they are, our flaws and humanity,” says Ainsley, delving

into the impact the last six-plus years of jungle living has

had on them. “It’s allowed me to let go of the expectations

we have and the feelings we hold onto and just flow and

appreciate how things are right now. Because this is it, this

is all we have this very moment. Just today.”

Being the good husband, John’s quick to add, “I’m

also so thankful to have such a loving, strong wife who has

been right there through it all with me.”

But life adrift can be a lonely affair and besides,

John’s hands seem to have a need to constantly be at work.

Eventually the couple stumbled upon what they’d been

looking for.

“We now find ourselves on a 12-hectare island in

the middle of the Indian Ocean. We’re 100 miles from

anywhere,” says Ainsley.

“It’s a tiny place called Pitojat,” adds John.

Back to square one, the couple set up camp and

began work on the newest incarnation of their dream, the

Togat Nusa Retreat.

“The buildings on the island are made from

recycled and salvaged wood, the lights are antique Dutch

boat lamps and glass balls the locals have found,” explains

Ainsley. “I think you need to actually walk in something

John has built to feel it—it’s alive. The Togat Nusa restaurant

is an example of that. The most recent addition is a pilot

whale skeleton that washed up. It was a tasty feast for the

locals. We raised it up onto the roof, a chandelier with two

glass Japanese balls for eyes. Yes, it is very Night at the

Museum over here. Are we more prepared this time? We

tried to be, but can you ever really be prepared? You can’t

know how you will react in time of disaster—luckily John

is calm. With his steady hand he’s stitched many a reef-

67