The Untold Making of 'The Strait Path' – Bali to G-Land Crossing

Rider: Josh Ku
Photos & Film: Dane Wilson
Location: Bali to G-Land, Java, Indonesia
Film: The Strait Path

Date: June 2025

What started as a bold idea to foil across the channel from Bali to Java's legendary G-Land turned into an epic tale of adventure, survival, and homage to surfing's roots. Pro foiler Josh Ku and filmmaker Dane Wilson teamed up for a project that blended downwind foiling, raw ocean exploration, and classic single-fin surfing. But as with any true quest, the sea had its own plans. Here's how it unfolded, straight from the duo who lived it...

JOSH KU

The seed for this trip was planted after seeing Dane's project with Zane Westwood—a film that wasn't just about foiling, but about embracing the ocean in all its forms. I've spent years chasing waves in Indonesia, from Uluwatu to G-Land, and I knew the trade winds and swells could make a downwind crossing possible. No one had done it before, at least not on a foil. Dane was all in from the start, even joking we'd fund it ourselves if needed. We locked in four days, watched the forecast align—wind, swell, everything—and pulled the trigger.

We launched from Bali with an escort boat: three 300-horsepower engines, captain, deckhands, and Dane filming. I was on my downwind setup, no food or extra water on me since the plan was to grab snacks mid-run. Early on, it felt good—catching groundswell rides, trading bumps with the wind chop. But about 20-30km in, Dane signals we're off course. The boat had been leading me astray, so we regrouped, checked the GPS, and pushed wider offshore.

That's when things got real. The ocean turned angry—conflicting swells, light winds, no land in sight. I ignored the groundswell pushing back at me and focused on the wind direction, trusting it'd carry me to Java. My Garmin watch was my lifeline, with waypoints set to keep me on the rhumb line. Then, poof—the boat vanished. I waited, scanned upwind, even flagged a fishing boat that motored right past. Nothing. My mind raced: Did they capsize? Hit something? I was alone in 360 degrees of open sea, no sustenance, debris everywhere—logs, plastic wrapping my mast.

Panic? A little, but survival mode kicked in. I'd foiled long distances before, tested my limits in Hawaii and beyond. Cramps are my nemesis, but my body held. I saw whales breaching, fish darting—life out there, but no rescue. Tunnel vision: Follow the wind, hit land, radio for help. If the boat was down, at least I'd get to shore and send a search party. Hours ticked by—this was my farthest foil ever, pure edge work across technical chop.

When I finally heard engines and saw the boat approach, relief hit like a wave. Dane's long-lens shots from that final stretch, with Java's jungle backdrop, captured the stoke returning. We made it to G-Land, and the surf was pumping—two days of perfect barrels. My shaper Amos hooked me up with a Jerry Lopez Lightning Bolt single-fin, glassed in carbon. Riding that board there? Bucket-list magic. Tucking into tubes on a piece of history, paying homage to the pioneers who explored these spots with nothing but instinct. The adventure wasn't just the crossing; it was rediscovering that raw spirit in a crowded world.

DANE

Josh pitched the idea, and I was hooked—using foiling as a tool for adventure, not the whole story. Like my Zane project, this was about the Waterman ethos: foil when it fits, surf when it pumps. Bali's breaks are mobbed these days, but that channel? Untouched playground. We eyed maps, currents, winds—no downwind forecasts exist for this, so it was old-school guessing. Swell and trades lined up; we went rogue.

Filming started smooth: Josh gliding, Bali fading behind. But nerves built—comms sketchy, no waterproof radio, internet promised but gone. At 20-30km, Josh falls; we motor back on track, but waves crash over the bow. Offshore chaos. Then disaster: We snag a 20-foot bamboo log, motors up, crew scrambling. Josh disappears behind a swell—gone. Three-four minutes to clear, but he's vanished. Captain speaks limited English; I'm yelling directions, but he's fixated on the old groundswell path.

An hour-plus of dread: No service, no one to call. Staring at empty ocean, thinking, "Did I kill my friend?" We check beaches downwind—nothing. Circle the point—flat, low wind, big swell. If Josh makes it, he'll beach and hike. Finally, we blast to camp for radio help... and spot him, a dot on the horizon. Relief? Massive. First words: "Did you call my wife?" Nah, bro—no signal.

The jungle shots sealed it, but G-Land delivered the capper: Pumping surf, Josh on that Lopez single-fin, drawing lines like the legends. I filmed non-stop, stressed to capture every wave—four-plus hours each day. Editing was tough; how do you bottle that rawness? But it worked. This wasn't us in the story—it was bigger: Echoing Jerry Lopez's era, exploring with heart over tech. In a forecasted world, we rolled the dice and won.

The crossing tested us, but it reignited that lost sense of discovery. You don't need perfection; just show up and try. As Josh said post-trip: "When's the next one?"

Where to watch the film: Friday 7th of November at 7pm: Collaroy Cinema , Sydney , Australia

Tune into the episode! It goes live tomorrow - Nov 4 @ 6pm EST.