Wilson: “You could put rails in there!”

Julian Wilson discusses winning it all and also maybe losing it all!

I have called Julian Wilson to win the title for three years running, I think. Oh he has it all… Fearless in bigger waves, still above average air game, experience, the last threads of youth, style, etc. All the markings of a potential champion and yet the grand prize has eluded him

Could this be the year?

He gave a nice interview to Australia’s Yahoo7 news about maybe. Let’s read!

I am past just ‘taking it as it comes.’ I feel like I have had some really good years on tour and I have learnt a lot and I just really want to go for that world title now. It is really what motivates me, I know it is achievable and I just want to apply myself as much as possible to get that goal.

I feel like for myself (the world title) is more achievable than ever. That’s the main thing, if I believe in it and I can see it happening, that’s when you get closer to it and I have that feeling now more than ever. It’s very much about consistency. I think I have had five finals in the last two years without a win. Obviously getting a win is a great goal to have but it is all about that consistency.

I feel like I am comfortable enough at all the stops on the tour to be making heats and beating those guys and giving myself a really good opportunity of getting that No.1 goal.

And that sounds like a winner talking, don’t it? Sounds like he’s got his head screwed on tight. There was only one little part of the interview at the end that left me wondering. When asked about Kelly Slater still being on Tour he segued into the pool in Tulare County.

Obviously the whole world has seen the quality of that wave, it would be a great addition to the tour. WSL has gone and bought the rights from Kelly so they are looking at it and planning for it and I would love to compete on a platform that was consistent. You could put rails in there and do rail slides and airs. There is so much exciting stuff that could be done there.

And haven’t we learned anything from Chris Coté and his patented Rail of Death? Are we doomed to repeat our ghastliest errors? Our gravest mistakes?

Or wait. I can’t remember. Was the ROD fun and awesome? More on this developing story as it breaks.


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Maddo: “I should’ve run the prick over!”

Robbie Maddison on Big Wave Tour VP Gary Linden after failed Todos attempt.

You saw it. In 2014, the Australian motorcycle rider Robbie Maddison rode a KTM250 with skis at Teahupoo. At one point he hit a west bomb, one of those kinky straight-into-the-barrel waves only the best surfers dare challenge. And nearly died. Six waves on the head. Underwater for two. In full moto gear.

Absurd, but beautifully absurd. Whatever your take, dumb, wonderful, you watched it.

Rob, who is thirty six years old, also holds the world record for jumps (three hundred and fifty feet) and once leapt onto the Arc de Triomphe at the Paris Casino in Las Vegas and back down onto the strip. A man who knows how to grip a pair of handlebars.

Since Teahupoo, Robbie has spent the last three years working on the idea of lassoing a bomb at either Cloudbreak or Todos Santos. Fiji was out of his one hundred and fifty thousand dollar budget so he went for the Todos, Mex, option.

We wrote about it a few days ago, first, taking one side (story pulled after threat of defamation suit), then jumping on the other side.

Earlier today, I called Rob to run me through his version. He tells me, oowee, it ain’t easy creating these viral events. Teahupoo hit twenty-five million views, sure, but money flows through your fingers on these things. Everything costs and it’s not as if you can just film it on your iPhone.

“Trying to plan and pull it off, it was a fucking nightmare,” he says.

But he did all the meetings in LA with sponsor Samsung (the Samsung Gear S3 watch was used to track the weather, to track speeds, his route, monitor his heart rate – fast) and media partner ViceHe sorted all the permits. Jumped through all the hoops of planning.

Organised directors, film crew, whatever else y’need for the creation of such a wild event. And when the swell hit, and the winds looked good, his crew hit the joint.

But, a storm. The port gets shut down. By the time he gets to the famous deep-water righthander, the swell has dropped significantly, the wind is blowing ruffles. Ten-to-twelve foot has turned into six-ish.

And waiting out the back is the Big Wave Tour VP Mr Gary Linden, from San Diego, and his pal Vincente Ya. Rob says the pair tell him he ain’t catching shit. Today, tomorrow or the next day. That they’ll block any attempts at catching, says he doesn’t have the permits anyway.

Robbie Maddison’s permit to moto Todos.

“I sat out there for three hours pleading to catch a wave,” says Rob. “I know the mentality of dickhead surfers who carry on like fuckwits… I grew up surfing. I understand about being respectful. I offered to pay ’em. Eventually the government officials came out and told me I could make a citizen’s arrest if I wanted.

“I’m out there doing business and them, in their beach culture shallow-mindedness stood in the way of a cool project,” says Rob, adding he’s caught a grand total of four waves in three years. “I hope this affects Gary’s relationship with the WSL. He’s been a prick about this. Out of line. He doesn’t own the place and he’s just a fucking old school guy that’s afraid of change. These guys are saying no to motorised equipment. I’ve seen video of Gary Linden being towed. He’s a fucking prick… It’s hard to get the right conditions at Todos and it’s not like I didn’t plan it right or wasn’t on top of my shit. I just had this hundreds of thousands of dollars project ruined by two individuals.”

Eventually, towards sunset, Rob announces, “We’re fucking doing it. By then the wind came ups the tide filled in, it just turned to shit. Looked six foot.”

Still, he tries: “It’s so hard to catch  a wave on a motorcycle, man. I got the one wave, right on sunset, and to catch a wave you gotta point the bow of the boat directly into the swell. I came down the ramp, and it’s gotta be perfect timing, and the boat was on a bit of a angle, the running ramp didn’t stay true, made me veer right, and I went from flat-out in third gear to a complete stop. Tore my high-tensile steel handlebars off my bike. The imapact was massive.”

Failure. 

“I should’ve run the prick over,” says Rob. “I spent 150 thousand dollars out of my own pocket. Now I’m sitting here realising I would’ve been better off being an electrician these last three years.”

Is he going to do it again? Maybe Cloudbreak, where he says he would’ve been welcomed?

“I want to, but the sour way this ended it may never happen again.”


News: Slater “brainwashed” you!

Greatest-ever turns surfers from drug and sex fiends into Gaia-worshipping hypocrites!

Don’t we exist in a golden age of opinion? With a few  clicks and swipes we announce ourselves on our little social forums as experts on everything from the political machinations of foreign countries to breakthrough medical cures (cannabis oil) to the technical and tactical mistakes of our favourite surfers.

All that hoopla re: Kelly and the sharks? Oowee. None of us know shit.

Kelly was fool enough to open a debate on the bedevilled subject in an attempt to share information and got showered in insults.

In the Slater era, surfing has transformed from a sybaritic subculture to a pastime pursued by way too many brainwashed Gaia-worshippers who liberally accuse others of hypocrisy between loading their toxic surfboards onto planes and flying to remote tropical destinations, where their western habits are quickly in conflict with the supposedly natural attractions.

Now, as Fred Pawle posits in The Australian, Kelly has brainwashed us all.

Fred writes, “Ever since he burst onto the scene in 1990, aged 18, Slater has been the thinking person’s surfer. When he became the subject of the most frenzied sponsorship battle in surfing history, he chose to go back to finish high school in Florida.

“A lot of guys that start to make money think that they don’t need anything else,” he said at the time. “I don’t look at it that way. High school isn’t a hard thing to do. It keeps your mind in gear.”

This, at a time when the pro tour was a teenage hedonist’s paradise of women, drugs, money and waves. Slater eschewed all that, and single-handedly raised surfing out of its prolonged juvenile delinquency.

But his influence might have been too strong, even for him. In the Slater era, surfing has transformed from a sybaritic subculture to a pastime pursued by way too many brainwashed Gaia-worshippers who liberally accuse others of hypocrisy between loading their toxic surfboards onto planes and flying to remote tropical destinations, where their western habits are quickly in conflict with the supposedly natural attractions.

Slater’s high-school diploma could never have prepared him for the phenomenon of millions of surfers becoming enamoured by the very creatures that would eat them, and spewing vitriol at even fellow surfers for daring to espouse a different opinion. It’s as if some surfers have forgotten their own contribution to the collective happiness of mankind, or how lucky they are to be surfers at all.

Slater himself has often been the figurehead for all this misanthropy and self-flagellation. He even once endorsed Sea Shepherd, the radical group that more than any other backs the preservation of sharks, at the expense of surfers’ limbs and lives.”

Have you been brainwashed by Kelly? Do you hear a humming sound when he appears on television or your computer screen? Proof!

You can click here to read the front and tail of this story but it’s hiding behind a paywall…


POV: Slater Goes Loony in the Tub!

One look into those green eyes will mesmerize the soul...

As far as I know, this is the first POV vision released from Kelly’s pool. After such a rough week for the King, it makes sense for him to lighten the mood by releasing such a mesmerizing clip. Some might call it a coping mechanism, but Kelly calls it shark-free fun!

The internal view of this wave, when paired with Kelly’s lackadaisical approach, reaffirms the absolute flawlessness of their design. The lipline is so clean and without blemish that Slater is able to about-face multiple times per ride without fear of reprisal. Dare I say it almost looks… too easy? Like, maybe not even that fun?

However this is probably a stupid thing to say because getting barreled is always fun and as Kanoa Igarashi once told Surfing Magazine, “Honestly, before coming here, I was never really that stoked on wave pools. I really appreciate the unpredictability of the ocean. So I was excited heading to Kelly’s wavepool, but I figured I would get over it after the third wave. But then I was getting barrels where I was freaking out, literally screaming every time, it felt like I was scoring perfect Kirra.”

So this begs the question, when the hell is Beach Grit gonna get an invitation? Oh, never? Yeah that’s probably fair.


Buy: Lisa Andersen in the Journal!

One of the most beautiful surfers of all time!

I had the great pleasure of profiling Lisa Andersen in the latest Surfer’s Journal. I think she is one of the most beautiful surfers to ever live and not just physically beautiful, though she is that too, but her style. The way she rides waves.

A big Lisa project is in the works right now and you’ll start to see snippets here, soon, but in the meantime take a little taste of hangover food before heading over to the Journal for a wonderful video feature!

“I remember looking up the cab service in the Yellow Pages,” Lisa Andersen is saying while ignoring her shrimp ceviche, “calling and saying, ‘How much does it cost to get to Orlando in a cab from here? One way…”
“…from here…” is Daytona Beach or more speci cally Ormond Beach. A dead-end Florida town most famous for being home of the last living Civil War officer, a carpetbagging damn Yankee who died in 1933. Not famous for surf.

Her shrimp ceviche looks good si ing there in a reddish broth next to a bowl of delicate corn chips. And she is recounting her running away from home, running away from a boozed dad and a scared mom and a two-year stint in juvenile hall at the tender age of 16.

“How much was it?” I ask mid bite of bacon-wrapped hotdog. I am severely hungover and need the doubled pork. She should be scowling at me but understands. Understands that I need a bacon-wrapped hotdog, cheese-drenched refried beans, an al pastor taco and Tijuana street corn just to stay upright.

Because she has been through the wars too.

Subscribe to read more you cheap bastards!