On Thursday, the details of the soon-to-be-built Webber
wave pool were leaked from a council pre-development
meeting.
To recap: the company Tunnel Vision Holding Pty
Ltd, which was founded by the skateboarder and
surfer Ben Mackay who made his cash with the retro-skateboard
company, Penny, was chasing approval to turn 95 hectares of dirt
between the GC and Brisbane into what will be called Tunnel
Vision Wave Park at Stapylton.
The leak, which was reported by the Gold Coast
Bulletin, took the four-month-old company by surprise and the
three-man team, Jay Baikie (media), Ben (money and front-man) and
Josh Neale (engineering) had to finish their branding (which is
very good) and frantically kick their dormant website live.
Now, we got an interview with Ben Mackay coming tomoz, but let’s
look at what you might call the known knowns.
Tunnel Vision is going to get the development
application to the Gold Coast City Council “well before
Christmas.”
It has a twenty-year “binding” agreement with Webber for his
pools in Australia. Which means, if you wanna build one in
Australia, you gotta go through TV.
The loop-shaped pool is going to be three hundred metres
long.
TV claims the pools will deliver 500 waves an hour or one every
seven seconds. The foil never stops. Just keeps going round and
round and round.
Twenty second rides. The company compares it to getting a wave
behind the rock at Snapper and all the wave through to
Greenmount.
It’s gonna be cheaper than the 80 Euros and $US60 one-hour
sessions at Surf Snowdonia
and NLand, the two
commercially operating Wavegardens.
Once it gets approved, in come the bulldozers.
That photo in the header? It’s the entry to the park. You come
in and burn your eyes on pretty wedges.
Will it happen or are we watching more piss on more trees?
Well, it…is… happening.
The game, our little world, is changing…
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Rumor: Andy Warhol killed Billabong!
By Chas Smith
Dead artist wreaks havoc on the bottom line!
In two short days Billabong will unveil its
next all-star collaboration this time with Iggy Pop. The Stooges
frontman, and icon of the masculine form, told the website, “I
don’t have great taste in clothes, so I don’t wear much of them. I
usually wake up and stay nude for three or four hours…and when I
feel like getting formal, I’ll put on boardshorts…Life is better in
boardshorts” I don’t want to doubt Iggy Pop here but I can’t recall
ever seeing him in boardshorts. I would have liked to read “…Life
is better in very skinny and ripped jeans.” Or “…Life is better in
heroin.”
But what do you think of these collaborations? Do you love? Do
you run down to your nearest Billabong store and purchase one of
everything?
Liar.
For I have been told, from a source very close to Billabong’s
managerial team, that the last collaboration with Andy Warhol did
very horribly for the brand. So horribly. “Lost tons of money…” was
the direct quote.
Andy Warhol always seemed to be a very strange fit for
Billabong. The sexually fluid New York artist boasted, “I have
never seen the sun and I hate salt water.” And yet Australia’s
one-time largest surf brand rushed out t-shirts, boardshorts,
button-ups and ladies’ bathing suits. Here is a picture of Jake
Patterson surfing a board with the word “Warhol” spray painted on
the bottom.
Oh I don’t know… I sound grouchy but these collaborations are
tiring. They seem not only inauthentic but try-hard. Am I sounding
grouchy? I am even tired of the letter “x” Billabong x Warhol.
Billabong x Iggy. Billabong x Bankruptcy. Actually, that would be
awesome if Billabong released their collaboration with bankruptcy.
T-shirts feat. the faces of Oaktree Capital investors. Boardshorts
with a graphic charting “the bottom line.”
I really do sound grouchy but while I’m here, would you like to
know what gets on my nerves more that the letter “x”?
Stab‘s usage of Spike Lee’s “joint” in their small films.
“A Stab x Summerteeth Joint.” “A Stab x Jordy
Smith Joint.” Co-opting “joint” is basically cultural appropriation
and Stab should issue a public apology to Do The Right
Thing, Jungle Fever and Crooklyn.
The End.
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Dear WSL: “I am not a retard!”
By Liam Carroll
"The WSL presumes its audience is completely
retarded," writes noted author.
Two years ago, I moved into an apartment on the
beach, the rent including cable television the
significance of which will soon become obvious.
First, a caveat.
I love surfing, the actual activity of surfing, taking whatever
bit of fibreglass you like and going for a paddle, preferably away
from as many other cunts as possible, getting the odd cover up or
doing a semi-decent turn in between bogging rails and falling on
drops. Happy days.
But the ins and outs of the surf “industry”, the contests, the
web clips, the stickers on boards, the Dion Aguis’ in their German
cars, failing miserably to cover up their balding melons with
ridiculous dome knitwear, whinging that their five-star Airbnb’s
have regulation Kleenex toilet paper rather than the more nuanced
jet-stream Evian water bidets that really fuel the creative juices
a “freesurfer” needs for survival.
Creativity starts from the ring piece, Oscar Wilde famously
wrote.
What a terminal fucking wank the whole scene is.
Well, being as self-righteous as I am lazy, I put aside my
disdain for the façade of professional surfing and opted to stay
nuzzled up on the comfort of the couch and watch most of the 2015
Goldy Quikky event. I could have ridden my pushie a few clicks
south to watch the whole shebang in real life but, you know,
yuck.
Filipe was blowing minds, Turpel was blowing Pottz and I can’t
really remember much else of 2015 apart from Owen Wright stroking
into the bomb of the year at the Box like it was two-foot North
Steyne and Mick belting that massive Noah to a pulp in the
bristling offshore afternoon at J-Bay.
Recently, I decided to watch Steph Gilmore slay Honolua and
realised what it is specifically about the WSL that leaves its
viewers feeling abused and very unlikely to ever return – the WSL
presumes its audience is completely retarded. Well fuck you, WSL.
You harp on and on about the rules of the sport as though anyone
watching your contest has only, just today, discovered the
sport.
Joe Turps will painstakingly explain what a “Combo” is replete
with a paragraph on the screen describing “Combo” too. Pottz will
then throw in his waffling two cents about “Paddle Battles” and
how, back in his day, before he was a neutered WSL employee, he
actually was worth listening to.
Then they’ll cross to BL, frothing out almost to death in the
channel, foam literally oozing from the edges of his mouth, fresh
from watching some girl stink up a wave in a new and innovative way
that no one could have previously envisaged and how it’s so lucky
Micro Hall is a super coach otherwise there is no possible way
anyone could even function another moment on Earth without his sage
counsel.
It’s just a big, endless, backslapping, squirrel-gripping, human
centipede farce.
I don’t tune in to see Conor McGregor belt the living shit out
of some poor fella in a cage and have Joe Rogan seriously explain
to me what a fist in the face, an elbow in the ear and a knee in
the ribs will do.
WSL, why do you persist on assuming anyone watching your product
has somehow stumbled upon you, completely forlorn and bewildered,
in need of your patronizing guidance like we’re all in
kindergarten?
And why do you feel the need to back-slap everyone as though a
piece of honest commentary will have you all facing off against a
sea of litigators? It’s pathetic.
(Editor’s note: Liam Carroll is the author of Sweet Dreams of Fanta, a
lovely memoir of a boy who was a “fat tub of freckly lard… a young
fella with bright eyes, open ears and big dreams, blessed with the
invincible strength that every child has when they know with all
their heart that the people they love the most in this world love
them right back even more.” Mr Carroll, who is thirty-seven years
old and lives in Sydney, also wrote the book Slippery, “a
lad’s story about capitalism on steroids.”
"At some point, when the money is flatlining, you
gotta say the market has spoken and get out."
Two days ago, the custodian of recorded surf
history, Mr Matt Warshaw, announced he would quit and
take his archive with him if thirty thousand dollars wasn’t donated
immediately.
Thirty k seemed a very arbitrary number, a figure pulled from
the jaunty cap of a boy who’d shift, suddenly, from adorable to
jaded.
What happened? How did we suddenly find Warshaw on the
precipice?
I had to ask.
BeachGrit: What precipitated this sudden lunge for
thirty gees? Did your wife say you’d have to go out and get a real
job if you didn’t make some cash?
Warshaw: Jodi and I made a deal in 2011 that EOS had to be in
the black — expenses paid, me earning 30K a year minimum — by 2012,
or I go back to print. I got five extra years. But here we are.
Time’s up.
It’s humiliating to be 57 and making what I make. It feels like
a judgement. EOS, I think, does a such a good job at showing the
world of surf in full. Look at us, maybe the most fucked-up
wonderful interesting thing on the planet, it’s all here on the
three sites I’ve made, in photos, video, and words — and for
building that I get less than I did as a SURFER intern in 1985.
Does it feel a little odd that you, the custodian of the
sport’s history, one of the sharpest writers in the game, can’t
peel off a living from a multi-billion dollar
industry?
Well, you and I made that decision a long time ago, right?
Anybody who’s ever asked me about going into surf writing, I say
some version of “keep your day job,” or “marry well.” In 2017 you’d
have to do both. But I love the work. Ever since the sites
went up; this is the happiest I’ve ever been just in terms of doing
the job. Not just the writing, but doing video and working on
photos and all the back-and-forth with readers. I literally throw
the covers off in the morning and run to the computer. I will
happily do what I’m doing for 30K a year. But less than that — and
I don’t know why 30K seems like the magic number —but less than
that and my mind wanders to the place you mention, to a darker
place. It’s just kind of humiliating, to be 57 and making what I
make. It feels like a judgement. EOS, I think, does a such a good
job at showing the world of surf in full. Look at us, maybe the
most fucked-up wonderful interesting thing on the planet, it’s all
here on the three sites I’ve made, in photos, video, and words —
and for building that I get less than I did as a SURFER intern in
1985. It’s humbling. When I step away from the computer a few hours
and think about it, I can get depressed.
Anyway, why thirty grand? It’s a very arbitrary
number…
The subscribers I have right now, as it happens, pay just enough
to cover EOS expenses. The 30K will go to payroll. Which is me.
Two days in, what’s the balance?
Two days in, 12 grand. Which is great, more than I expected. But
these things burn hot at first, and cool off really fast. The
numbers are going to drop today, I’m sure. The trick will be
holding some momentum for the rest of the month.
What if you hit 20? That enough to keep it
going?
Before pulling the plug I’d probably get in touch with
subscribers and see what they think of a rate hike, from say three
to five buck a month, something like that. That idea actually came
from a subscriber. But I don’t really know. At some point, when the
numbers are low enough, when the money is flatlining, I think you
gotta say the market has spoken and get out.
What happens, like seriously, if you don’t get enough
cash? What’s going to happen? Are you going to pull it offline?
Would it turn into a print product?
The last real money I made, $125K, was the advance I got for
History of
Surfing. Which I think was 12 years ago, and I
know book publishing is the sick man of media, but I’ll go back
anyway and make deals for EOS and HOS. Whatever I can get. Those
are the two projects I feel really strongly about. I’d much rather
have them online, but they’re still in print already, and if I can
do new editions to keep them circulating, that’s fine.
Who’s dropped the biggest donation so far and how
much?
Sam McIntosh, one-thou. It came in like three minutes after the
donation button went live.
Sam always was a generous boy, and I certainly don’t
mean it in the facetious way it might be taken. Anyway, we’ll match
it, wait…one…thousand…dollars? How about we drop five
c-notes into your hole when a certain 120-day overdue invoice gets
paid?
Maybe not in my hole, but yes!
Now, you said, Jodi, your wife, gorgeous thing by the
way (how’d you land someone so terrific and ripe?) gave you until
2012, and then gifted five more years. Did she come home from her
serious job one day recently, see you in your pyjamas and dipping
biscuits into your bowl of Lucky Charms and…fuck
this?
She’s not much for the salty language, and I was wearing my Team
Body Glove track suit, but in so many words, yes.
In September, you said, in regards to Surf Ranch, that
we’d traded “magic for perfection.” With the passage of time, and
obviously further contemplation, what’s your current
position?
Upon closer inspection, my current position is . . . Kelly
Slater could solve EOS’ financial problems with one click. Let’s
you and I make a date to talk about the Surf Ranch on February 1.
Full disclosure. Deal?
Describe your current mood.
Tyler Wright when the donations comes in. Sally Fitz the rest of
the time.
And listen to Warshaw perform on this very good podcast
here.
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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.”