Great White breaches in front of champ. He keeps surfing.
It’s been almost a while since our last shark fright in SoCal.
For a minute there, it felt like we might have a legitimate issue on our hands. Like we were gonna be the next Ballina or Reunion or lesser-known-but-equally-as-potent sharkbite hub, Maui. Luckily our whites are small and seem mostly non-aggressive, unless you’re a bather who decides to dance with a blood-spurting seal. (Is that really what happened, or are the fine people of San Clemente just victim-shaming?) Anyways.
According to recent reports, the sharks are still around, so any sense of surf-zone confidence is nothing more than ignorance disguised as bliss. None know this better than Robert Kelly Slater, who spent last evening frolicking close to a prehistoric beast. He said:
Do you think it was necessary, though, to add, “There were six people out and I think four of us saw it jump. Caught a couple more waves” *shaka*? Or was that a bit much?
Not one to claim his dick without swinging it, Slater dove deep into Lower’s camera rewind to find this blurry splashing out the back (This should be a video, but there’s no way (to my knowledge) to link an Instagram story. Imagine a small portion of the blue screen turning white for a brief moment, and you have the essence of the clip.)
Proof? Sure. But did you really doubt him in the first place? Did anyone? Kelly seems a little paranoid about his public persona, but maybe that’s a natural response to surf sites and their overzealous commenters psychoanalyzing his every move.
So, does this recent shark sighting make you feel anything? Has the fear risen from your toes, taken a quick pitstop to constrict the testicles, before continuing to erect every follicle across your hide? Or do you not give a fuck whatsoever?
I’m leaving for Costa tomorrow so leaning toward the latter.
