Filmmaker Bruno Zanin remembers his close pal Ricardo Dos Santos…
Two days before the Brazilian big-wave surfer Ricardo Dos Santos was shot to death, his best pal and filmmaker Bruno Zanin was lighting him up on whatsapp for a beer.
Ricardo wasn’t down that time, he needed sleep, but they were going to catch up real soon. On the day he was shot, Bruno was sleeping and a mutual pal from Rio called him. Said he’d seen something on Facebook and called to check if it was true.
Bruno woke up and “freaked.” He drove the six clicks to the hospital and spent two days there, among the 50 family and friends who’d swarmed the hospital. There for the surgery, there for the hope as Ricardo’s godfather relayed whatever news the doctor’s had, and there when his best friend died.
“Why should we not believe that he’d survive? He was too strong,” says Bruno. “He got the biggest and scariest waves in life and we were praying al the time and thinking about him and making plans to do when he came out of hospital”
Fifteen hours after the shooting, they were told that the situation was critical and that “they should have faith and pray.” After 38 hours, Ricardo died.
“It was the most horrible day of my life,” says Bruno. “I can’t describe the feelings. I’m still really sad and tired.”
But Ricardo had a certain something about him. “He would want to be remembered as getting barrelled and coming out in a spray with a big smile on his face,” says Bruno.
And, yeah, he could drive you crazy. Like the time the pair travelled to Uruguay and Argentina. Twenty-three days, five thousand clicks, in a car together, Ricardo punching repeat on Chromeo’s Sexy Socialite, like, a million times, leaving the verses alone and jamming loudly in the chorus.
“Women are eyeing me
Their men are buying me
Drinks at the bar
You can’t go far
In this society
So why you coming at me, homie
With so much acrimony?
Your testimony’s phony
And the truth is you don’t know me
You’re a sexy socialite
(No I’m not, no I’m not)”
“He was a horrible singer,” says Bruno.
The pair had known each since they were kids. Ricardo lived on the beach where Bruno learned to surf but, in the past two years, they’d become really tight.
“I always like film surf, but as a hobby,” says Bruno. “And one day he invited me to start film him surfing, training and I did. He motivated me to be a filmmaker, to be a professional. He told me I should believe in myself and work.. and thats what ! As we travelled we became better friends. We fight, we laugh and we enjoy so much together.”
A little quirk of Ricardo was the nicknames he liked to attach to people. Bruno remembers Ricardo laughing as he announced each nickname. Some of the surfers he knew well, others he wasn’t quite as close to.
“Adriano told us he used to call him Minério, with a really fucking strange accent, Gabriel he called him Medal, Filipe was Filipinho and Miguel was Miguelito.”
As for Bruno, he’d been living in Australia for two years and had slugged on 24kg. “I came home like a bear,” says Bruno. “And in my first day back in brazil.. another friend when he saw me really fat called me Batavo and unhappily rRcardo heard about this history and said… ‘WHATTTT??? BATAVO??? FUCKING BATAVO!!! FROM NOW I WILL JUST CALL YOU BATAVO, BATAVO IS YOUR NEW ARTISTIC NAME.. LITTLE BATAVO!! BATAVEX!”
Batavo? It’s yoghurt!
Oh Ricardo, RIP, buddy…