Kong at Sunset a real long time ago. | Photo:
Encyclopedia of Surfing
Mr Sunset: “Why the
six-fucking-sixes?”
By Derek Rielly
Gary "Kong" Elkerton unloads on paltry
sleds…
Yesterday morning, two-time Sunset
winner Gary “Kong” Elkerton, unloaded on the
equipment choice of competitors in this year’s event.
“10 foot plus Sunset Beach and everyone is on 6,6s sitting
on the inside while 10 foot bombs are going off out the back,”
Kong posted on Facebook and to, mostly, enthusiastic approval.
Until recently, he owned and ran a swim school, Kong for
Kids, at Billinudgel on the NSW North Coast. Last year,
he bought the Sunshine Coast license for what he says is a
revolutionary concrete sealing biz which was developed by a
Hawaiian pal, Brian Kissenberger, who he happened to bump into on
the Gold Coast.
Once the decks were cleared of small talk, I said, Mr Sunset,
why are you so incensed by equipment choice?
Kong groans and, momentarily, stutters.
“Oh, fuck…fuck… where do I start… I just… I just…
they’re sitting on six-sixes on the inside and not paddling out the
back and getting the bombs. I think Wilko might’ve read my post
because he had a go on a seven-six and he showed exactly what could
be done. He looked absolutely solid. I was pulling my hair out. I
was frustrated, watching these twelve-to-fifteen-foot bombs out the
back and guys are taking off in the whitewater and trying to get to
their feet.”
Why?
“The judges need to score a wave higher if it’s caught out the
back. I watched a young Hawaiian paddle way, way outside, caught a
wave off the button, a goofyfooter, did three turns on the inside
and got a seven. I don’t know if any of the judges have ever been
out at Sunset. It’s so much more difficult negotiating that west
and north swell peak out the back when it connects together. It
should be merited higher. And that would change the way it’s being
surfed.”
Kong puts a lot of store on Sunset. It ain’t always the most
photogenic wave, although it can be, but it challenges a surfer
like no other wave, he says.
“I’m still blown away that it’s only a qualifying event. Kelly’s
never won there and how many times has he tried? It’s the most
demanding wave on the planet, bar none.”
I ask Kong to defend his outrageous claim.
“The way the reef contour is and the manner in which the west
swell connects with the north swell and it makes this surging peak.
There’s so much water, a football field of water meeting together.
And to get into the correct spot, to get into what the lifeguard
Darrick Doerner calls The Saddle, you’ve got to have your lineups
completely covered. It’s not like Pipe where you take off behind
the boil to get barrelled. Equipment is everything there. And to
negotiate all that, there’s no other wave on the planet like
it.”
And how should the wave be ridden according to Kong?
“At that size, I’d ride an eight-o. I’d get in the saddle,
negotiate the big drop, big bottom turn, fade and load up on the
inside… where they’re taking off on the six-sixes.”
A dirty laugh.
“That’s what I would’ve been doing. Not saying I’d do it
now.”
Young Jack Robinson seen here driving an Uber. | Photo:
WSL
Help: I made the CT and lost
everything!
By Chas Smith
Is the Championship Tour where young dreams go to
die?
Getting on the World Championship Tour is the
dream of every blue-blooded young professional surfer. He has grown
watching his heroes Taj Burrow, Joel Parkinson, John John Florence,
maybe even Adriano de Souza, travel the world, surfing iconic
waves, winning, laughing, smiling. And he decided to follow in
their footsteps, through junior events then low-point Qualifying
Tour events before the stars align and he makes the cut. Makes it
into the very exclusive club.
Now his jersey will be hanging in a Gold Coast locker and the
thrill is just beginning.
Except it is not. Little does the blue-blooded young
professional surfer know, but now he must work two full time jobs,
toiling on both the Championship Tour and the Qualifying
Tour in order to make ends meet. The dream basically turning into a
lower-middle class American reality. Morning shifts at the
fertilizer plant. Evening shifts driving an Uber.
What a royal bummer and let’s let last year’s budding
flower/this year’s wilted weed Patrick Ewing give advice to Griffin
Colapinto:
“I’d say just have fun on Tour, but focus on the QS. I wish
I would have done that this year but I was too busy focusing on the
CT just trying to get heat wins. If I could’ve got a good start on
the QS early in the year I wouldn’t be in this position.”
What a giant downer having a “fun” job and a “real” job. Where
is the time to kick it with friends at the mall? To go to house
parties and whisper about who might be hiding half a beer? It seems
a real rip-off, making the Championship Tour and losing
everything.
I suppose, at the end, blue-blooded young professional surfers
are just like us. Except for those who count Adriano de Souza as
their hero. Working two jobs instead of five would feel like a
vacation for them.
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Breaking: SurfStitch buys Depactus!
By Chas Smith
Australia's most intelligent company strikes
again!
Your favorite online Australian surfwear
retailer is back in the news with a stunning counter punch.
SurfStitch, former parent company of Stab and FCS, was
looking very on the ropes just weeks ago. Punch drunk. Getting sued
by investors, stock frozen, owners of Stab. It seemed that
a knockout was minutes away but suddenly, and without warning,
Stab bought itself back for free and then just seconds ago
it was revealed that the company purchased the surfwear brand
Depactus.
What thrills!
You may recall Depactus from… when… ummm… the brainchild of…
wait was it Luke Egan or Luke Munro? And camping gear? Did Depactus
make camping gear? I’m sorry. I’m writing the prologue to book
right now and not the detailed surf journalist you’ve come to know
and love.
In any case, Depactus then was rumored to have folded. Derek
Rielly wrote two years ago:
Word on the street is Depactus is done. The MEPs (Men of
Extraordinary Pursuits) are actively seeking alternative
sponsorships and the reason for its failure? We’re told the brand was marked by three major flaws. -Big salaries right out of the gate. -Branding that was tone deaf to the consumer. Depactus came in
high-end and expensive where Salty Crew, who is killing it, came in
low, came in blue-collar. Same waterman-fisherman-surfer vibe but
more authentic and value oriented. -Bold spending. Big ad agency employed, designers, staff and
the most delicious trade show fit-outs seen in a while.
And the world moved on. Except SurfStitch, the company that
reeks of value, of good decision-making, saw an opportunity to
strike it rich and scooped Depactus up for… I have no idea.
Nothing?
Some questions.
How was SurfStitch aware that Depactus had not totally died? Do
you think the SurfStitch x Depactus relationship will fare better
than the SurfStitch x Stab one? Will Depactus go out and
sponsor more Men of Extraordinary Pursuits? If SurfStitch came to
your house looking to buy you would you flee or ask, “How much you
got?”
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Power Rankings: “How’s John Sleeping?”
By Longtom
“Hi John, it's me Gabriel, I coming for you. How
you like me now?”
As you lay in bed, erotically musing before trying to go
to sleep, has your mind slipped to… the tour? The world
title? Pipeline, and so forth?
“Maybe life is just too good to justify the emotional hunger
for a world title. Nothing in his personality requires it, in the
same way Taj was happy enough without it, and hence he never really
puts himself on the line for it, for long enough to give himself a
realistic shot.”
1. Gabriel Medina
Current rating: #2
Straight up analysis: Gabe has a greater
tactical range going into Pipe. Three strategies present
themselves. First, if it’s bombing First Reef Pipe Gabe can roam
the ledge and deep-throat bombs, with cleaner mid-sized waves his
speciality. No falls. The so-called Teahupoo strategy. Second, if
it’s ratty he can find scores in the air in a way that John can’t,
or more likely won’t due to his pedigree and deeply ingrained
habits at Pipe.
Third, in overlapping four-man heats he can employ the “rabid
dog” strategy he used in Portugese closeouts. Roaming the lineup
and savaging anything that moves, not scared to fall, putting
scoreboard pressure on opponents too locked into patient strategies
ala John Florence.
2. John John Florence
Current rating: #1
Hows’ John sleeping these days? Waking in the
middle of night with his own Latin Incubus in the shape of Gabriel
Medina spooning him and whispering sweet nothings into his ear.
“Hi John, it’s me Gabriel, I coming for you. How you like me
now?”
And no matter how deep the preternatural calm that emanates from
John descends into the psyche, all that “Oh it’s so fun. It’s fun
being the leader. I’m really enjoying it. Nah, I’m not thinking of
the World Title.” That presence of Gabriel and a whole year of
red-hot favoritism, undeniably justified, will have to be
quarantined for whole chunks of time moving slow as magma in the
most intense pressure situation imaginable. If he falters here then
we all stand down from the dream of a John Florence dynasty. That
is a heavy burden to carry. At 25 he has to win back-to-back before
embarking on a revamped tour in 2019 that appears to be tailor-made
for his dominance.
3. Kolohe Andino
Current rating: #8
Kolohe Andino’s damp tongue.
Preparation is key to any endeavour of excellence and to
prepare for these power rankings I made a pilgrimage to visit
my friend and mentor Derek Hynd. Hynd commands a compound
in the hills behind Byron Bay, part Mad Max, part Blade Runner
techno-futurism. Derek was enthused about plans to shake the
foundations of Pro Surfing, another story for a different time but
had equal froth for Kolohe’s European performances. His make rate
and top turns in particular.
In his words: “How refreshing to see custard served up instead
of muck”.
Which I took to mean: His surfing was creamy, “tasty” to the
eye, and composed of an internal consistency which kept it together
but fluid enough to fit the shape of any oceanic container. How did
you read it? All the passion, the sporting fervour and
chickenwing claims might have served him well in Europe but look
like ballast for Pipe. Passion thrills but also kills. Clean
mind better.
Not once in my career as a surf-writer have I missed an
opportunity to sink the boot into the over-sized date of Jordy
Smith of Durban, Republic of South Africa. No ticker,
can’t close, choker, safety surfer extraordinaire etc etc.
But something has shifted deep within, maybe that photo where
Jordy, walking past the autograph hungry throngs at Peniche with a
face twisted in a grimace of self-disgust and disappointment, was
the catalyst.
Maybe it was a dream last night. A loud noise, maybe a pawpaw
rolling down the roof, or a chicken in it’s death throes as a
python extinguished the last flame of life. Sitting bolt upright in
thrall to a vision: masked Jordy at the door, wielding a machete.
Raising it above his head “the shit talking ceases now bru” before
bringing the blade down with the final blow.
Safety surfing infuriates me, does it you Jordy? In your heart
of hearts? Come now Mr Smith, we’re not so different, me and you.
You, the subject of a high priced bidding war between surf industry
titans as a teenager. Me, the subject of a furious bidding war
between Stab and
BeachGrit. Both
trained seals trying to entertain an audience that can turn on you
with sudden and unexplained viciousness.
“Heres’ the thing,” said Ross Williams: Jordy Smith is still a
mathematical chance for this World Title. You feel that bile rising
in the throat when you read this Jords, the involuntary fist
clench, the feeling of luxuriousness as the blade comes down on the
faceless critics. Start there. Swing that blade. Take that title
and shut me the fuck up. I’ll give you a 500 word written apology
FOC, written the very next day if you claim the Title at
Pipeline.
Not enough? Swing by for a double date with Greg Webber and sink
the boot in in person. Character is destiny.
5. Miguel Pupo
Current rating: #23
Miggy, Miggy, miggy. We need a talk. We had you
pegged as the missing link, the one who was going to banish style
stereotypes of Brazilian surfers forever into the wilderness. The
one who could link the past with the future. I pegged you as the
Brazilian Gerry Lopez, a trope shamelessly appropriated by Martin
Potter. You have a problem with the mind? A lack of confidence that
seeps into the bones and makes nerves short circuit at the worst
times? You need some help. I know a guy, an underwater guy who is
available for coaching. A family man, like yourself. Will work on a
no result/no fee basis. Send plane tickets for Pipe Post Restante
Lennox Head. Let’s give it the ol college try eh and let the real
Miguel Pupo loose on the world. We saw more than glimpses of him in
Europe, which makes the spectre of possible relegation a bitter
pill to swallow.
6. Julian Wilson
Current rating: #4
What’s he done to deserve a world title, the objective
critic cries. Too much inconsistency and apart from the
finals against Gabe in Tahiti, not a single barnstorming
performance which would justify a world title. But there he is,
standing patiently in a queue behind Jordy Smith, or is it in
front? These world title calculations always perplex me, waiting
for everyone else in front to fall over.
Maybe life is just too good to Julian to justify the emotional
hunger for a world title. Nothing in his personality
requires it, in the same way Taj was happy enough without
it, and hence he never really puts himself on the line for it, for
long enough to give himself a realistic shot.
He says he wants it, but observed carefully over a year, his
actions betray his words.
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History: Don’t let thinking surfers
win!
By Chas Smith
It will be a Stalinist erasing.
I woke this morning to troubling news. Zach
Weisberg and his merry band of “thinking surfers” at your other
favorite Venice-adjacent surf website is attempting a coup.
Attempting to co-opt surf history in an effort to re-write the
narrative, I’d imagine. Matt Warshaw’s epic Encyclopedia of Surfing
and History of Surfing are in deep financial straits, you see, and
need of a few more subscribers to stay solvent. Zach, in a coldly
calculating move, saw his chance to strike.
In an open letter, he wrote:
As someone who understands how challenging managing the
vagaries of business for a digital-based editorial outlet in the
surf and outdoor space can be, I refuse to allow the Encyclopedia
of Surfing to exit Google’s fiber optics without a fight. And I’m
optimistic that with a call to arms of this magnitude – with this
much on the line for folks truly passionate about the history of
the most fun thing to do on earth – surfers will unite, pony up a
few bucks, and let Matt Warshaw (and the work he’s done on our
behalf) know that it is appreciated and will live to see another
day.
We cannot let this bald cynicism stand. If “thinking surfers”
save both the Encyclopedia and History of surfing then they will
effectively have the ability to transform our shared past into a
“woke” version of themselves. Troubling episodes, like the very
first production surfboards being called “swastikas” and Michel
Bourez being described as “a eunuch fainting on a daybed” will be
disappeared, replaced by “good vibes.”
Triggering words or phrases like “cunt” and “BeachGrit” will be
forgotten forever.
It will be a Stalinist erasing and the ocean will soon fill with
happy people on all manner of SUP and longboard attempting to
“share the stoke” and “live aloha everyday.”
The only thing standing between that reality and our current
racist, misogynistic, xenophobic, angry one is you.
