Kelly Slater is a magnificent specimen. The
closest thing our little world has to Tom Cruise. A massive,
worldwide superstar. A man who grows sweeter with age. A winner
time and time and time again.
Handsome?
Check!
Rich?
Check!
A smile that stops people frozen?
Check!
Eyes that plumb the very depths of a soul?
Check!
A broad global reach?
Check!
A wild intergalactic reach?
Check!
Scientology?
Check?
My coconut wireless buzzed yesterday, whilst I was sunning, and
the message skittering across its skin told me that Kelly Slater
and Tom Cruise maybe do indeed share the same religion?
Scientology is, of course, the path of stars! Many famous
celebrities have embraced the esoteric teachings of L. Ron Hubbard
which gives, maybe, such freedom and wonderful film roles (hello,
Frank T.J. Mackie!), or to quote its soothing website, “Scientology
is a religion that offers a precise path leading to a complete and
certain understanding of one’s true spiritual nature and one’s
relationship to self, family, groups, Mankind, all life
forms, the material universe, the spiritual universe and the
Supreme Being.”
Tom Cruise says, “It’s extraordinary, it’s extraordinary. And
you know, you always have to look at someone who criticizes you,
you have to look at them and say, okay, so? Who is that person?
Why? What do they know? And I can tell you, you’re sitting in front
of a Scientologist who knows. And I can tell you from my personal
experience it’s been extraordinary for me. I wouldn’t be here where
I am today without, you know, those things to help me out.”
And Kelly? My source tells me he is maybe an Operating Thetan V
and he knows this because he possibly gave surf lessons to other
Scientologists through the Church.
The Church of Scientology’s pamphlet What is
Scientology? says the OTV is “The Second Wall of Fire consists
of 26 separate rundowns and has been described as dealing with
‘living lightning, the very stuff of life itself.’ This level
addresses the last aspects of one’s case that can prevent him from
achieving total freedom on all dynamics. An audited level
ministered at Advanced Organizations or Flag.”
Kelly Slater certainly dealt with White Lightening for many many
years and very successfully. Those eleven world titles, many at
Mick’s expense, didn’t win themselves.
In any case, wow! I mean, wow?
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The Stories The Surf Media Won’t Print
By Rory Parker
How many stories are hidden away, uncomfortable
truths buried deep?
I was recently messaging back and forth with a fellow
member of the “surf media” regarding a story he’s been
kicking around. The subject isn’t important, he was weighing the
merits of really going after the story, versus doing something a
little mellower so as not to burn any bridges.
It could be a damn solid piece, enough so that I was a little
peeved he mentioned it to me. Now I can’t do it.
He was right to be concerned about the reaction to contacting
people for info. The wagons would circle, team managers would get
pissy. Not because the topic is super inflammatory, but because it
might cut into their bread and butter.
Make no mistake, everything you see is groomed, little candid,
almost nothing honest. Words without an agenda are few and far
between.
Which brings us to Anastasia Ashley. I mentioned, in passing,
that I’d seen some photos the other day. Word is that she
accidentally snapchat’ed them to her public account, when they were
meant as a private message to some very lucky man.
I didn’t see much of a story in it. Amusing enough to make a
punchline, but they weren’t anything great. Closeup of a landing
strip, a perfectly normal piece of female anatomy. By internet
standards pretty tame, barely worth the effort of a tug.
An undoubtedly embarrassing error for Ashley, but considering
she’s made a successful career out of selling images of her genetic
blessings they were hardly the end of the world.
What happened next was fairly interesting. Stab
put up an article on it, then immediately pulled it down.
Surfer removed a thread from their bulletin board, then
the pictures just disappeared.
The absence of the photo is easily explained away. Her people
got working, take down notices went out, everyone complied.
And I’m okay with that.
She didn’t do anything wrong, no reason she should face
consequences. And consequences there would be, no-one wants their
private parts dissected by the brutality of internet anonymity. Not
unless you’re getting paid, or you’ve got some sort of kink that
makes it work.
But the removal of words is something else. Neither the forum
nor Stab linked to her nethers, and discussion of a public
person’s foibles is fair game. It’s the cost of putting yourself
out there.
Unkind, often unfair, but an unavoidable effect of life in the
public eye.
It makes you wonder how much else is missing.
How many stories are hidden away, uncomfortable truths buried
deep, concealed from a public which very much wants to know?
Pleasing people doesn’t make them open up to you, it only makes
you their running dog. A disingenuous voice serving masters who’d
rather you didn’t exist. There’s no real upside in going along to
get along, there’s no future in writing about wave sliding.
The mags are destined to die, falling in step just earns you a
cubicle and terrible salary until the inevitable pink slip appears
on your desk one cold winter morning.
If we’re not being honest, why the fuck are we doing this at
all?
There are no bridges to burn, no awesome lifestyle to be had if
you only play the game.
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This is Kai Borg. He runs the Volcom House. Very good
at jiu-jitsu by all accounts. | Photo: All photos by
Laserwolf
How to: Survive a North Shore Season!
By Derek Rielly
Like, alive, and without emotional trauma…
A journey through life isn’t complete without taking a
real swing on the North Shore. Until those stripes are
stitched onto your arm, why, you’re just a boiled little cry-baby
who’ll never know what it feels like to be a real surfer.
Me? Yes! A baby! Five, maybe six campaigns, and never a wave
over six feet.
Why the North Shore? Why does it matter so?
You get the waves, you get the surf stars, you get the blood-red
sunsets and you get the rain-spotted meth vampires crouching under
the roots of trees in their stained undershorts just waiting for
you to leave your pretty rental car unattended.
It’s the violent, beautiful heart of surfing.
The photographer Brandon “Laserwolf” Campbell is from Florida
but has been plugged into the electricity of the North Shore for
the past seven years.
And this is the photographer himself, Brandon
“Laserwolf” Campbell at the heaviest wave in the Mentawai Islands,
as captured by Rodney Odgaard.
Oowee, he’s seen it all. He’s seen the gunplay, the romance, the
bonds and the remarkable beauty and strength of the place.
And he knows what you should do if you wanna make it there.
Let’s ask.
BeachGrit: What makes you shake your head when you see
new arrivals on the North Shore?
Laserwolf: I see guys all the time that don’t live here
hassle locals for waves or try to call a guy off a wave. Just
because you’re on the inside doesn’t mean the wave is yours. Not
here in Hawaii, at least. If you get burned, suck it up, kick out
and put on a smile. Never hassle an uncle for a wave. If I’m on the
inside and its my turn but see a guy like Uncle Mike Ho or Sunny or
whoever remotely interested in the wave, I won’t even look at it.
It’s just a respect thing and thats how it is.
BeachGrit: Give me a list of the dumbest things you
see people doing?
Laserwolf: Don’t leave valuables in your car. Tweakers
are in the bushes just waiting to do a snatch n’ grab. Every day I
see tourists on the side of the road in tears with a smashed window
in their rental car and all of their stuff gone.
Don’t walk up to the team houses uninvited. You
wouldn’t believe how often people walk into the Volcom House asking
if it’s some sort of Volcom museum or if they can use the
bathroom.
Don’t try to speak pigeon. You’re gonna sound like
an idiot and your not fooling anyone. It’s a tiny community so If
your not from here people know. You’ll get more respect for being
yourself. As long as yourself doesn’t suck.
Stay off the bike path after dark. It’s the dreamiest
little path in the day time but once the sun sets, the vampires
come out to play.
Speeding through neighbourhoods is a very very bad
idea. Go extra slow. I had been to the North Shore a couple
years prior on a surf trip but my very first day as an actual
resident, I had grabbed a beater truck on my way from the airport
and went straight to check the surf. I was driving through the
neighborhood at Sunset Point and thought I was going really slow.
Pretty sure I was in idle. Anyways, when I pulled up to check the
waves, one of the super-heavy hitters pulled up next to me and told
me to roll down my window.
I knew of his reputation and was practically shitting my shorts
thinking to myself, ” This can’t really be happening my first five
minutes on the North Shore.” I thought for sure I was gonna get
pounded but I rolled down my window and to my surprise one of the
gnarliest guys around very politely said “Eh’ brah, would you mind
driving a little slower, we’ve got a lot of kids in the
neighborhood.”
I was apologetic, explained that I was frothing to surf, left
out the part that I was JOJ, and assured him I won’t let it happen
again and he said something a long the lines of ” No stress,
have a great session” and drove off as I sunk into my seat
with a sigh of relief. I’ve basically pushed my car down the street
in neutral ever since.
BeachGrit: What are the other dumb things you
did?
Laserwolf: About five years into living here I maybe got a
little too comfortable and a little too cocky. I got lippy with one
of the boys over something stupid and was quickly put in my place
and reminded how not to act on the North Shore.
Another time, I stashed a bunch of camera gear behind the seat
of my truck while I was surfing Off The Wall. I came in and someone
had jammed a screwdriver into my door, took my gear, my phone and
even the pennies in my cup holder. The worst part is that I used to
live in the house across the street and every other day I would see
a car that had been broken into in the exact same spot I parked. I
knew better. Total rookie move.
BeachGrit: How easy is it to piss someone off and what
are the common things people do?
Laserwolf: It’s no different then anywhere else. You get what
you give. Be respectful, smile, look people in the eyes when you
talk to them and don’t give that stupid high-five fist bump thing.
No one likes that. It’s awkward and frat boy-ish. A firm handshake
like a man and some eye contact goes a long way. And, yeah, drive
slow, don’t step on anyone’s toes and don’t drop-in on anyone.
BeachGrit: How do you suggest one should behave if
confronted by angry local man?
Laserwolf: It ain’t like movie prison. Ha! Knocking the baddest
dude out isn’t gonna prove anything to anyone. I used to get in a
lot of fights when I was younger. I’ve won some and I’ve lost some.
Regardless, it was all stupid. These days I’m on a different path
and have no problem walking away from someone who’s ready to scrap
but I guess it depends who it is and what the situation is about.
I’m not gonna let some random hero push me or my family around but
I’m not about to have local problems either. Choose your battles
wisely and if you’ve done something to upset anyone it’s best to
just put your head down, be respectful and right your wrongs.
BeachGrit: How can you integrate yourself into the North
Shore community? Do you send chocolates to Ed? Maybe a custom uke
to Makua?
Laserwolf: I actually remember reading on Stab that
Wiggolly Dantes brought a jar of his mom’s homemade jelly over to
the Rothman’s house when he first came here. I wouldn’t recommend
knocking on any stranger’s door but well played Wiggolly.
So many people come here, take, take, take and then bail when
the waves get flat. I think it’s important to give back to any
community you’re spending a lot of time in.
I volunteer with a local non-profit called Friends Of
Sunset Beach who helps raise money for the music and
art program at the schools here on the North Shore. I do these art
appreciation days where I go in and teach the kids about surf
photography. I’ve got a couple companies who flow me gear and they
print up posters and stickers of my images for the kids. My
wife works with the Kokua Foundation which helps
bring environmental education into the schools and community. She’s
actually there right now working in the school garden.
The North Shore Lifeguard Association has a
big fundraiser every year. That’s an important one for me to be
involved with since those guys work so hard to keep us all safe.
Working with the Mauli Ola Foundation is another great way to give back
to the community. Don’t do it for the recognition though, do it to
help your community grow as a whole.
BeachGrit: Is it possible to actually catch a wave at
Pipe?
Laserwolf: During the Triple Crown, when the whole surf
world is here, I would say the odds of getting a legit Pipe wave if
you’re not a pro, one the boys or a dialled resident are slim to
none. Anytime before and after those six weeks of madness, you
could absolutely score the barrel of your life. Be ready to pay to
play though. Pipe is no joke. Heaviest wave in the world in my
opinion.
Yeah, the occasional, real occasional, wave
swings through without a rider at Pipe.
BeachGrit: How much you gotta spend on a crib during the
season?
Laserwolf: I’ve got a family and a dog so I need some extra
space and a yard. We pay $2,400 month for a two-bedroom at Rocky
Point and that’s actually a pretty good deal right now. Vacation
rentals and military housing allowance has shot rent through the
roof and made good places very hard to come by. You could
come solo though and find a nice room for rent around $800 a month.
Rates don’t really change by the season here.
BeachGrit: How much should you budget per week to
live?
Laserwolf: That’s a hard one to pinpoint. I guess it
depends how big you want to go. My friend Rob Brown is an absolute
nomad. He spent a winter camping in a tent at the skate park and
lived off PBJ’s and PBR’s. You could go feral or five-star here.
Anywhere from $10-$1000 day. In a tent at the skate park or a suite
at Turtle Bay. Either way you’re going to score!
BeachGrit: Where’s the best place to
live?
Laserwolf: Pupukea up the hill is really nice and quiet
and it keeps you away from the riff-raff but you have to get
in your car every time you want to go to the beach. For me, it
couldn’t get any better then an oceanfront house at Off The
Wall.
BeachGrit: What can you do to earn
cash?
Laserwolf: Waiting tables is the ideal gig for a surfer.
Play all day, then work for five hours at night. The money is
killer if you can get into a good restaurant. Three hundred bucks
or so a night.
BeachGrit: What’s the biggest misconception about the
North Shore?
Laserwolf: That there’s no chicks here. I always heard
there were no cute single girls in Hawaii but I met my wife here
and she’s an absolute gem. My single friends are killing it.
No girls on the North Shore? It ain’t
true!
BeachGrit: What’s the cliche that’s most true about the
North Shore?
Laserwolf: There is a lot of petty crime. Mostly thievery
so lock up… everything. I caught a tweaker breaking
into my wife’s car at five in the morning the other day and
when I yelled at her to beat it, she yelled back “FUCK YOU BITCH,
YOU DONT OWN THE BIKE PATH ” and continued on with her coat hanger.
She was so spun on meth, just full-on, one-track zombie mode.
“There is a lot of petty crime,” says Laserwolf.
“Mostly thievery so lock up… everything. I caught a tweaker
breaking into my wife’s car at five in the morning the other day
and when I yelled at her to beat it, she yelled back, “FUCK YOU
BITCH, YOU DONT OWN THE BIKE PATH!” and continued on with her coat
hanger. She was so spun on meth, just full-on, one-track zombie
mode.”
BeachGrit: What’s the best thing about living on the
North Shore?
Laserwolf: Tweakers aside, it’s a great little community to
be a part of and raise a family. I’ve made some amazing friends
since I moved here seven years ago. My daughter was born here, I
met my wife here and I started my career here. Although my roots
will always be in Florida, I’m grateful to feel like I can
call the North Shore home. Its a special, unique place and I don’t
ever want to take that for granted.
"I'm only 35, still long for this world, but
ridiculously injury prone," writes Rory Parker. "A lifetime of
broken bones, sprains and strains and tears. Constant trips to the
ER, two life-threatening infections in the last twelve months. It's
terrifying to realize there will come a time I don't bounce back.
I'm still young and strong, I heal fast. But I can feel it adding
up. I know I'm not the only one. A doctor once remarked, as he
looked over my medical history, 'Your entire generation will be
using walkers by fifty.' A few years later he killed himself,
rather than go to prison." | Photo: Brian Bielmann
“Your generation will be on walkers at
50!”
By Rory Parker
You surf? You young? Get used to the idea of
walking frames…
I don’t much fear death. That’s not meant
in some bravado soaked, “who wants to live forever?” sense.
Though there’s a decent chance that the things I enjoy will turn
off my hunk of flesh one day, I don’t revel in the fact, I take
every reasonable precaution to avoid it. I just believe (I’d say
know, really, but that smacks of too much hubris to admit) that
when we die it’s nothingness all around.
No afterlife, no reckoning. Lights out, you’re done.
May as well have never existed. Maybe in some hippy-dippy, we’re
all made of star farts, way our existence holds some meaning
outside ourselves, but if you’re not a conscious being that point
is pretty much moot.
I’ve come as close to drowning as you can in a controlled
setting, I can tell you the end feels euphoric, confusing, and
empty.
But aging, she holds some terror.
My landlady had a slip and fall this past weekend. She’s 88,
active, and when the ambulance pulled into our drive it scared the
shit out of the wife and me. I’ve fallen into a kind of houseboy
role for her, nothing crazy, just little things. Fetching shit off
high shelves, carrying in groceries, hanging the occasional
picture.
No big deal, happy to help. Super minor effort on my end, tons
of appreciation on hers. She rents us a nice little two-bedroom at
below fair market value, definitely don’t want to kill that golden
goose.
She’s got a dark sense of humor, “I read the obituaries to see
which of my friends died” and drives like a maniac. Takes a pretty
fatalistic view of her ever encroaching demise.
When she got back from the hospital we hung out for a bit.
“I’m just glad I didn’t break my hip,” she said. “When that
happens it’s always surgery, then just… death. That’s how
it works at my age.”
Which rattled me. I’m only 35, still long for this world, but
ridiculously injury prone. A lifetime of broken bones, sprains and
strains and tears. Constant trips to the ER, two life threatening
infections in the last twelve months.
It’s terrifying to realize there will come a time I don’t bounce
back. I’m still young and strong, I heal fast. But I can feel it
adding up.
I know I’m not the only one.
A doctor once remarked, as he looked over my medical history,
“Your entire generation will be using walkers by fifty.” A few
years later he killed himself, rather than go to prison. He wasn’t
looking at much time, for a young man.
But he was very old, not likely to see freedom again. Suicide’s
the coward’s way out, but I don’t hold it against him. We make our
choices.
I, and likely you, have spent decades heaving my body at the
ground. Beating my joints into dust, plenty of stretching and
creaking and a long hot shower each morning to get moving smoothly
again.
I fear how fifty-five will feel.
Twenty more years of this, can I hold up?
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Blood Feud: JetBlue responds to JJF!
By Chas Smith
Every blood feud has two sides...
Yesterday, BeachGrit‘s own Derek
Rielly broke the story of the moment (read here). John John Florence, our
young prince, heir apparent to Kelly Slater’s throne, got mad at
JetBlue Airline for breaking his board and posted about it on his
Instagram account.
Not only did this bit of journalism further our goal of winning
surfing’s first Pulitzer prize, it was also very funny.
Professional surfers hither and yon jumped into the fray, decrying
JetBlue’s heartless corporateism. “Maybe airlines will never care
about surfers or our boards…” wrote CJ Hobgood.
“#instagramisthenewyelp” added Peter King.
JetBlue’s own Instagram account was overrun with surfers telling
them to “Go back to the valley…” and “What a bunch of Barns…” and
“Beat it, kooks…”
With such salty, surfy talk I wondered if JetBlue actually
understood they were being criticized? Also, I don’t like many
airlines but I have never had any problems on JetBlue. Their
DirectTV almost always works and the snack selection/Tito’s vodka
is nice. And so I decided to call and get their story. Every blood
feud, of course, has two sides.
Ironically, the song that greeted me, as soon I was put on hold,
was Jack Johnson’s radiate. “We turn so slow I know it’s hard to
wait. Take your time, sun is yours to take I’m gonna watch you
raaaadiate….” he crooned. And in case you have been hiding under a
rock, Jack Johnson also penned and performed the View from a
Blue Moon original tune (read here).
I was very quickly, and surprisingly passed up the chain until
reaching Morgan, a seemingly nice man. I asked, “Are you aware of
the brouhaha surrounding a kind of famous surfer lashing out on
Instagram?”
Note: I say kind of famous because, let us be quite honest,
no surfer is actually famous. Not even Kelly.
Morgan responded with a friendly sigh, “Yeah we are aware of
it…”
“Do you understand all the surfspeak getting thrown your way?” I
wondered. “It’s all so slangy!”
Morgan chuckled a little. “I don’t surf myself but we have a lot
of surfers who work here and they translate it for me.”
“Well…” I continued “…what is JetBlue’s position on the
matter?”
Morgan, refreshingly, did not slip into corpo parlance and said
simply, “As far as I understand, the baggage folk tried to work
with him. He had four boards packed into one board bag and we have
very specific rules of one board per bag…”
Aha! That cheap little bastard John John tried to game the
system! Any surfer knows that flying one board per bag is a virtual
impossibility except John John ain’t any surfer! He could hire four
little men to walk behind him, anywhere he goes, each toting a
crisp Pyzel in a crisp new bag. What if they were all five feet
tall and from India? What if he dressed them each the same? I’m
thinking maybe an Egyptian cotton Tom Ford tunic paired with linen
harem pants and red Louis Vuitton driving moccasins. What if he had
each of them wear a delicate red fez? Of course, the fez is
Turkish, in origin, but if I have learned one thing it is who
cares! Orientalism is a state of mind!
And here is the real problem. Surfers are notoriously cheap and
professional surfers more so. A lifetime of free swim shorts and
fins and boards makes them stingier than stingy. John John could
have had a retinue of manservants for a relatively small fee and
his life would be a pageant. Instead he tries to save a few pennies
and ended up with a hurt board/feelings.
I told Morgan, “Don’t ever let surfers fly JetBlue. They are all
cheap bastards.”
He, kindly, didn’t agree with me.
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Jon Pyzel and Matt Biolos by
@theneedforshutterspeed/Step Bros
