Filipe Toledo's title hopes shot. Jordy squeezes out of a hole.
News from the East, sire. Dawn breaks. The sky takes notes when we speak and Teahupoo whimpers to life. Conceptually, and as a sporting spectacle, the fire and fury of J-Bay was always going to be a hard act to follow. Maybe impossible. Impossible for surf writers too, and I think a fresh approach, experimental even, is called for.
The mental sloppiness of J-Bay has to be replaced by clarity so in deference to the missing presence of the greatest Teahupoo surfer ever, Kelly Slater, and the great and glorious backer of pro surfing Dirk Ziff, it’s time to go clear.
No booze, no drugs of any kind (even legal pharmaceuticals). Nothing ingested except the fruit of the tree, the fish and fowl slain by my own hand. I’m sure Andy would approve.
And the words of the greats to guide us. Someone mentioned Witzig, Kampion maybe Hynd, maybe Rottmouth? We take their words and feed them into a random generator, voila, automated surf writing.
Is this legal? It is the future. Algorithms will make surf writing extinct in this generation and if I can help write the obituary, so much the better. Look for the double asterisk. **
It was heat five before a decent tube was packed in anger. Or nonchalance. JJF packed it nicely for a pair of sevens. The only true rivalry in pro surfing? JJF vs Portugese meat and potatoes surfing. The Hobbit and the Wolf are his kryptonite.
Who here has paddled out at Teahupoo? Surfed it without a sponsorship? As a recreational surfer, a donkey? Not you, Kelly. Allow me to guide. We begin the journey on foot, opposite the harbour a mile or so from the end of the Road.
Which way to go? Left, or right? Let’s ask a couple of day drinking fishermen wetting a line in the small mangrove lined lagoon next to the harbour. They speak no English. French or Tahitian only.
A toothless man pulls a warm bottle of Hinano out of a gunny sack filled with beer and offers it over. Without wishing to offend local hospitalities Shearer, née Longtom, accepts and using a proferred bait knife levers off the top. The danger in accepting beer from day drinkers is not having to drink warm Hinano, which is gaseous but not offensive, or getting glassy eyed and impaired before paddling out for a maiden surf at Teahupoo.
The danger is that the drinkers are now impossible to pass without sharing hospitality. And my liquidity is questionable because the little debit card I bought from Australia doesn’t work, so I am racking up a daily beer debt to the gatekeepers of the harbour. It will end with Longtom giving the shirt off his back – a Bob Dylan/Joan Baez Don’t look Back tee-o in organic cotton – to a 250-pound ladyboy friend to clear the debt. We digress.
We are walking the narrow road left, to the south-west towards a setting sun, past neat houses with bouganvillea hedges and roosters and chickens in every yard. Under shady trees rest big fucking dogs, mastiff and pit bull crosses lazily eyeing off chickens and pedestrians. Of which there are few in this heat of the afternoon. It reminds of Kahuku or some other sleepy windward Hawaiian village.
The road ends in a cul-de-sac encircled by ramshackle restaurants and fun houses. Coke signs, plastic chairs, red and white plastic table covers. A large Polynesian man expertly butchers a bull mahi-mahi with a twelve-inch blade on a fillet table in front of a smoking grill.
Looking seaward into the sun and the wave is impossible to see. It is below sea level and out and to the left, way past the reef pass proper. A blast of spit blown up into the tradewinds is the most obvious sign.
Where do you paddle from? Here or over the little creek which has a bridge across it?
There are children playing in the creek, in clear running water. Might as well jump in and start paddling seaward, out to the pass. Without a boat and with a beer buzz, it’s a long way. Maybe thirty minutes in Shearer stops, sits up and looks back at the mountains. Staggering.
Silently weeping, he paddles on, a changed man.**
Outside the lagoon the reality of Teahupoo sets in. It’s not a reef pass, it’s a crack in the reef a quarter-mile outside the reef pass. One paddles up to the wave and wonders what to do now. Catch a wave? Join the pack?
It’s breaking from the west-south-west, a peak that breaks so hard in such shallow reef and grinds into dry reef it doesn’t seem rideable. But it is, because a bunch of cackling pro’s are getting spat of of backlit caverns. Shearer gets pitched, hits the reef, rickrolled and then tip toes off it into the reef crack. As the sun sets finally gets a clean open cave, sucked backwards with the reef below and mountains framed by the falling lip then spat out, gliding over the shoulder. The paddle back across the lagoon in the twilight then the walk home along the road. The scariest thing. The pit bulls and mastiffs are awake now, sniffing for intruders and this whitey smells weird. Like stale beer and fear. Whitey picks up a stick and walks in the middle of the road. There is no traffic, only the sound of a man playing a ukelule and singing a lullaby.
Wilkinson through, JJF through. Medina through. The second most important heat of round two was Jordy Smith v Taumata Puhetini, a man who embodies the Tahitian goofy foot tube-riding technique of burying the arm and digging in like a tick on a bull, holding the wall until the channel. But there are no tubes on this gurgly, scrappy day and Jordy scrapes through.
The most important heat: Filipe vs Ewing. Ewing knocks out Toledo and any hopes for a Toledo title.
This is going to be a grind but there’s no way out when the comp is spit-roasted by a forecast as grim as the prospect of a nuclear war before the winner is crowned.
Still, I feel fine. Don’t know about you.
Billabong Pro Tahiti Round 1 results:
Heat 1: Joel Parkinson (AUS) 10.00, Jadson Andre (BRA) 8.30, Jeremy Flores (FRA) 7.50
Heat 2: Adriano de Souza (BRA) 8.77, Nat Young (USA) 6.27, Bede Durbidge (AUS) 3.63
Heat 3: Italo Ferreira (BRA) 12.50, Owen Wright (AUS) 9.40, Josh Kerr (AUS) 7.57
Heat 4: Joan Duru (FRA) 12.26, Jordy Smith (ZAF) 7.83, Ethan Ewing (AUS) 7.17
Heat 5: John John Florence (HAW) 14.90, Ezekiel Lau (HAW) 10.93, Aritz Aranburu (ESP) 9.37
Heat 6: Matt Wilkinson (AUS) 7.33, Taumata Puhetini (PYF) 7.13, Wiggolly Dantas (BRA) 7.10
Heat 7: Adrian Buchan (AUS) 14.33, Filipe Toledo (BRA) 8.33, Miguel Pupo (BRA) 5.27
Heat 8: Julian Wilson (AUS) 12.77, Conner Coffin (USA) 12.40, Kanoa Igarashi (USA) 10.03
Heat 9: Gabriel Medina (BRA) 14.06, Stu Kennedy (AUS) 8.60, Caio Ibelli (BRA) 6.50
Heat 10: Connor O’Leary (AUS) 13.10, Leonardo Fioravanti (ITA) 11.94, Sebastian Zietz (HAW) 10.64
Heat 11: Kolohe Andino (USA) 13.57, Mick Fanning (AUS) 13.43, Jack Freestone (AUS) 11.67
Heat 12: Ian Gouveia (BRA) 15.00, Michel Bourez (PYF) 10.67, Frederico Morais (PRT) 9.56
Billabong Pro Tahiti Round 2 results:
Heat 1: Jordy Smith (ZAF) 11.83 def. Taumata Puhetini (PYF) 9.60
Heat 2: Owen Wright (AUS) 14.50 def. Aritz Aranburu (ESP) 12.10
Heat 3: Ethan Ewing (AUS) 10.06 def. Filipe Toledo (BRA) 6.56
Heat 4: Mick Fanning (AUS) 13.00 def. Josh Kerr (AUS) 8.16
Upcoming Billabong Pro Tahiti Round 2 match-ups:
Heat 5: Frederico Morais (PRT) vs. Nat Young (USA)
Heat 6: Michel Bourez (PYF) vs. Jadson Andre (BRA)
Heat 7: Sebastian Zietz (HAW) vs. Miguel Pupo (BRA)
Heat 8: Caio Ibelli (BRA) vs. Kanoa Igarashi (USA)
Heat 9: Conner Coffin (USA) vs. Stu Kennedy (AUS)
Heat 10: Jeremy Flores (FRA) vs. Leonardo Fioravanti (ITA)
Heat 11: Bede Durbidge (AUS) vs. Jack Freestone (AUS)
Heat 12: Ezekiel Lau (HAW) vs. Wiggolly Dantas (BRA)
Commented on Disqus? Log out, tap the Disqus button, and your old name and comments come back. The box is ours.
Your comments are still here. Every one of them.
Twelve years of BeachGrit comments came across from Disqus. Connect and we will show you how many are yours. We get your username, nothing else.
Connect Disqus to reveal.
Above all that can be said about competitors, only one thing can be said, specifically, about this Teahupoo …
https://uploads.disquscdn.c…
Though I don’t like this particular algorithm, which was a bit too impressionistic for my taste, it was an interesting gamble, and I’m glad that BG published it. Hopefully you’ve got a more disciplined book in development.
Derek hated it too, so your in good company
Come on Nick. You’re better than that, this forum certainly is…
the wsl resident pigeon commentator just called kanoa igarashi a “test tube surfer”
lol… it was funny… to me it sounded like the Orwellian surfing robot Kanoa is…
As it was organic cotton, I think Poema would have escorted you lagoon to door if only you’d have asked. His coconut and lipid-tinged sweaty fragrance has calmed many an aroused beast.
Poor Felipe. Poor us. At least we have Longtom’s beautiful narrative to ease the pain, however I’m not sure it will help Toledo. He should scuba dive out during Igarashi’s next heat and emerge like a blood thirsty shark, equipped with a can of water proof pepper spray and temporarily blind the sneaky fucker.
Isn’t all pepper spray under pressure, therefore,”water proof”? Put down the pipe.
It’s bong. Wait, aren’t those just water pipes? doh!
https://uploads.disquscdn.c…
And I didn’t think you could get any dumber! Amazing!
Wow, really went digging for gold on that one. I just picture the dork from family Guy who thinks he’s slick being you, stupid but hilarious.
Thanks you Fergie!!!! xoxo
Ok,ok so what I’m getting is chopes is like really hard to get too?
Between the crappy waves an the commentary guys constantly talking to the viewer as if we have no idea what’s happening I could only watch maybe 15min? When will they realise the only people that watch this shit are people that surf? Middle America doesn’t give a fuck an unless the wavepool thing takes off probably never will.
if they ever realize it, it’ll be the end of pro competitive surfing
Would we really miss it? It’d be the end of the annoying helicopter surf dad ,an I for one wouldn’t miss those wankers one bit.
not really. i’d be fine if it was like skating and BG just gave somebody surfer of the year (SOTY) and it would never be for riding alternative craft
I just spent the morning surfing with Craig Ando having a slight whine about how hard being a pro surfer is. Admittedly it was brought up that he was getting paid to surf while the rest of us were just there to have fun. But he didn’t seem overly happy. All in all fuck pro surfers an the people that pander too em. Most of em dumb cunts anyways.
Yo Bitter, Is your email legit to send a message?
yeah
does this contest even matter with such crap forecast? BORING.
They ran round 2 to make sure Felipe WASN’T a factor in the title race!! Otherwise all the conspiracy would have come out if he wasn’t banned he could have been champ etc etc.
Saying that he did himself no favours sitting around doing fuck all
Doing fuck all never helps winning heats
Assume that you ain’t actually there but reminiscing about the time swellnet sent you?
Nah, a reader funded trip before Swellnet sacked me.
Nice read again Longtom/ surf-writing algorithm.
Did you put surf writer into this?
http://www.abc.net.au/news/…
If The Commisioner decided to run heats in that shit, the forecast must be truly horrible. Never thought a wave average of under five would win you a heat at Chopes.
Bummer.
I think he far outdid his zero from last year. As bad as jbay was good.
I won’t be defending Felipe despite the surf being junk (although I was wondering why they started round 2). Felipe was pathetic. What was he doing sitting around for at least 20 minutes?
Still, it was reasonably amusing watching him self-immolate. You could understand holding to it if needing a score, but waiting wide and out of position while needing a 2 for the lead with 10 minutes to go?
This article was a fun read! Just when I thought this 8 year wait b/t events would never end, you gift us an ‘end of the road’ short.
Study Taumata Puhetini’s jog across the reef. His gait, the sureness of foot. Replicate it as you walk the middle of the road. The dogs may respect you for being taught it by a local. It could be your little secret cause dogs don’t understand what webcasts are anyways. May take some of the fear stench off ya as you pass the mastiffs and pit bulls.
If there was one day in history that Felipe could win a heat at a reef wave, it was today. It looked like a bad day at Rio (sans faeces)
Or the worst River day in Berlin?
Berlin? Blasphemy.
Are you saying there’s no
Berlin vs. Munich Blut Fehde?