So today I went into the Surfer
magazine offices. If you have never been, they are located atop a
hillock very near Palomar airport some three or four miles from the
beach and two or three miles from a PF Chang’s pan-Chinese
restaurant outlet famous for orange peel chicken, soy dipped
lettuce wraps and girl’s night out.
The Surfer offices are mixed in with other titles owned
by The Enthusiast Network in a maze-like space that is very
difficult to navigate. I got lost and was forced to walk back and
forth near a wall and a break room that smelled like microwave
popcorn until being saved by a good friend who took me the right
way.
We passed Grant Ellis’ (the magazine’s famed photo editor. Look
at his gorgeous work
here!) work space and he happened to be there,
working, so I stuck my head in and thanked him for saving my life.
Last I had seen him, he had a large stitched cut on his forehead.
“Cancer” he told me and described the symptoms which I shared on my
chest.
Now, the large stitched cut is a perfect scar that blends in
with his forehead wrinkle. “I had mine done by an ex-military
plastic surgeon…” he said making me jealous.
“Well, you saved my life…” I responded. “I’m getting my cancer
cut out tomorrow. It’s one of those basal cell ones.”
“Hmmm.” He hummed. “Mine was a squamous cell. The basal cell is
sort of on the surface, squamous cell is deeper and a little more
serious and then there’s a melanoma which is more serious
still.”
I suddenly felt very sheepish. Of course I have the shallowest
cancer. Of course Grant Ellis’ is deeper and more serious.
Yes, he judged my cancer and it was found wanting. Tomorrow it
shall be gone. We’re born, we die. C’est la vie.
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Top Secret: “From Kook to Kelly”
training!
By Chas Smith
The ultra-wealthy have cracked surfing's code!
The very rich live better lives than you and
me. Sure there is a populist revolt shaking the globe
right now, trying through slogans on placards, to bring some form
of parity but it won’t matter. Nothing matters. The rich are a
rocket ship, climbing climbing climbing. Getting richer. The
non-rich are suckers writing slogans on placards. The rich have a
secret surf class taught only at select five-star resorts. The
non-rich have grouchy surfing uncles who dish unhelpful advice.
And how do I know about these secret surf classes? Oh. I read
the rich publication Bloomberg from time to time and learned of it
this morning in a piece titled The 10 Steps to Achieve
Surfing Nirvana. Here, I’ll distribute the wealth with
you. The writer has gone to Baja to ask his girlfriend to marry him
and also learn to surf. Let’s pick it up from there.
For a sport with a lot of unwritten rules about how to
behave, surfing doesn’t have many written ones. But Pinneo teaches
from an actual curriculum, which Tropicsurf (founded by Australian
Ross Phillips) calls “Kook to Kelly.” It’s in use at 16 of the most
luxurious resorts around the world, including Fiji’s Laucala,
Nihiwatu Sumba in Indonesia, and Mukul in Nicaragua. Think of it as
the surfing equivalent of ascending to a black belt from a white
one in karate. Its 10 levels range from the hardest, “Kelly,”
referring to Kelly Slater, the unofficial greatest surfer ever, to
“Kook”—surferese for a beginning, not-very-good surfer. A try-hard,
a gremmie, a grom.
For the past 20 years, Phillips, a former schoolteacher, has
been developing and refining one of the sport’s only written,
comprehensive, and standardized systems of teaching—the Eton of
surfing schools.
Satisfied with our stroke, Pinneo breaks down the levels:
We’re obviously Level 1. Level 3 surfers are starting to ride small
waves on their own. At Level 5, you’re finding your own style and
refining your bottom turn. By Level 7, you’re pretty good and can
ride the barrel—that quintessential picture of surfing, in which
you catch the inside part of the wave as it crashes over you,
forming a tunnel. If you’re Level 10, your name may be Kelly
Slater.
So it seems a bit like Scientology, maybe, like The Bridge to
Total Freedom. These steps, no doubt, cost much money and won’t be
shared openly even in a rich publication but the hints are
fascinating. A refined bottom turn seems like a real important
facet in moving from kook to Kelly. Step seven finds you in the
barrel. What do you think happens during steps eight and nine?
Which step are you?
Which step is Kai Otton?
Hmmmmm.
The piece ends with this:
There’s a scene in the 1994 surf movie The Endless Summer II
when Pat O’Connell, the shortboard star, is asked what his favorite
wave is. “The next one,” he says. I keep that as my mantra and,
about 15 next waves later, I stand and ride the board into the
whitewash. I still look like the poo-man, but for once on this day,
I feel the euphoria that drives hundreds of other kooks to keep
trying.
Poo-man. Which step is Adriano de Souza?
Do you think Tropicsurf pays Kelly royalties on using his
name?
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Jamie O'Brien, who has broken both his legs at
Pipeline, is not afraid to push a little harder. | Photo: Damien
Robertson
Rothman: “Bring on the champion
judges!”
By Chas Smith
"It's enough already."
The clear highlight of my last week was not a
cancer
diagnosis but rather a lovely 30 minute chat with
Eddie Rothman.
The North Shore legend and Da Hui co-founder is such a breath of
fresh air. In this modern world where most people hedge opinion
with many caveats or simply refuse to go on the record, Mr. Rothman
lets fly without heed. He has the bonus of truly believing what he
says and of being able to back it up come hell or high water.
The reason for the call was about contest permitting for
Pipeline but like all good chats it bobbed and weaved, covering
other topics as well. We spoke, for example, of professional surf
judging and I thought he had an interesting point.
“Look at the judging ok?” Eddie said. “At our Pipeline event
(the Backdoor Shootout) we have champions judging. Do you ever hear
the ASP mention who their judges are… I mean the WSL?”
“Mmmmmm” I responded trying to think of the newly installed head
judge’s name.
Eddie continued, “There’s Ritchie something but whatever. Those
people have no clue. No clue. I watched some of the heats of the
Volcom where… I watched somebody take off on the two biggest,
meanest fuckin waves of the heat and almost come out. Just death
defying waves and he didn’t make it, he didn’t conclude
the wave, so he got a one point eight and a one point blah blah.
Then there’s some kid sitting in the channel the whole time, caught
a four foot wave, caught another four foot wave and he got a little
tiny barrel, made it and got the score, won the heat. The guy who
was charging the hardest, putting his life on the line, got fucked.
It’s enough already.”
And how about that? I have thought, for years and especially at
places like Pipeline, Teahupo’o and Fiji (RIP) that guts are
entirely undervalued. It is, I think, a reason why so many
“Pipeline specialists” get drummed out in the first few rounds of
the Pipe Masters. They are conditioned to paddle for the biggest,
the meanest waves. Seasoned WSL competitors know that the
risk/reward paradigm is tilted heavily in favor of taking easier,
smaller waves and making them look good.
But what of the thrill of watching somebody paddle as deep as
they can on unruly monsters? Or really going for the last section
as opposed to safely escaping? Can heart ever be figured in to the
scoreline?
Also, should the WSL employ surf champs as judges for events
where the wave is an equal star? Men and women who truly understand
the complexities of the tour’s various all-star waves? I suppose
it’s a shrinking list now with both Pipeline and Fiji disappeared
but something to think about nonetheless.
How can safety surfing be forever rooted out of our game?
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Dear children... let me be a warning to you re. the
dangers of questionable fashion choices.
Podcast: “Don’t judge my cancer!”
By Chas Smith
The mark of a life spent on the water. Or maybe
questionable sartorial decisions.
I was diagnosed with cancer last week but that
surf sort of cancer. The basal cell carcinoma sort that gets cut
right out of the skin no muss no fuss. Surfer magazine’s
Grant Ellis first identified it for me. I saw the laconic South
African at Surf Ranch and he had a neat row of stitches on his
forehead. I asked him why and he told me, “Cancer.” I asked how he
knew it was cancer and he quickly described the symptoms.
“I’ve got one of those on my chest here.” I said, pointing. to a
red spot near my sternum.
“Yah.” He responded. “Go get that checked out.”
I did and he was right.
Cancer.
Cancer right above where I insist on unbuttoning my button-up
shirts all rakish and suggestive. Cancer right below where a normal
t-shirt’s neckline would cover. I don’t own any “normal” t-shirts,
and refuse the top four buttons any pleasure. In this way, I
suppose, I have fashion cancer but it mirrors surf cancer and how
many of these have you had cut out of you? Three? Seven?
I feel badly that it took me this many years to get one. Like
pterygiums, surf cancer is the mark of a life spent in the water.
It cannot be faked nor can it be purchased. It is not a World Surf
League Gabriel Medina jersey.
Oh I know surf cancer and fashion cancer, for that matter, are
not real cancers and shouldn’t even be brought up in the
same breath but I do bring them up in the same breath on the latest
edition of The Grit, my bi-weekly conversation with David
Lee Scales. We also chat about Olympic surfing, the future of
aerial maneuvers and how to game the system. You can go here to see
a visual guide or sit
back and listen below.
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Here we see Volcom's international team manager and
Fantasy Surfer winner, Matt Bemrose alongside WCT rookie Yago Dora
and super coach Dave "Deep, Steep and Complete" Riddle. | Photo:
Andrew Christie
Volcom Team Manager Smashes Fantasy
Surfer!
By Derek Rielly
Former pro turned pro minder Matt Bemrose beats
living hell out of Fantasy Surfer on first attempt!
Until the 2017 season, Volcom team manager, the former
pro Matt Bemrose, had never played any of the various
Fantasy Surfer games.
But, last year, after a pal asked him to join a club of eighty
within Surfer magazine’s Fantasy Surfer, Matt figured, “I
might be able to suck some money out of these dudes.”
And he did.
Won three-and-a-half grand in his little club, and he finished
first out of 21, 708 other punters via Surfer, winning a
trip to Hawaii, five nights at the Turtle Bay and some spending
money. Of course, Matt, as international team manger for Volcom,
didn’t need the prize, so he gave it to his brother-in-law.
“Then after I won, I spoke to the Surfer guys they
said, ‘Sorry dude, the Turtle Bay pulled out so no prize.’
Like most Australians, Matt, who is forty years old, is familiar
with betting for money. And surfing had always been an easy
mark.
“It’s almost like cheating ’cause you know everyone so well.
You’re at the event, you know who’s looking good, you know who’s
got a magic board under their feet. This year, for example, I’m
going to Snapper early to get a good look at the guys. You can see,
immediately, who’s been working on shit in the off-season. Filipe,
last year, it was obvious he’d been working on his rail game, that
extension. He was thirty-percent better.”
Four keys to winning, says Matt: Knowing the surfers, knowing
the seeds, knowing the waves, knowing the forecast. Last year at
J-Bay he knew it was going to be good, but on the small days, with
that swell direction, he knew it was going to be all Filipe and
Mick. “They’re the fastest surfers on the fucking planet.” And he
knew the rookie Zeke Lau was going to spill blood at Bells.
The biggest rookie error punters make on Fantasy Surfer, says
Matt, is hanging onto surfers too long “because they were cheap.
People will say, ‘I’ll keep him because I got him cheap. Fuck that.
Who gives a fuck if he’s cheap if he’s going to get knocked in
round two. I pick up my guys every event. Coming into Brazil last
year, I saw the banks, spoke to the boys, and knew the contest was
going to be run on a left down the beach and a tricky little right.
Perfect conditions for Ace Buchan. He’d get two sharp backhand
whips on the lower tide… and he did. He did really good there.
(Second, lost to Adriano de Souza.)”
Matt picks his team at the last minute, when the swell forecast
and alternates are locked. For Snapper, he’s got a little fever, so
far, for Michael Rodrigues (“he could be lethal”), says it ain’t
such a stretch for goofies to do well now that judges are throwing
eights and nines for blowing the tail out in the pocket and says
Jordy, who traditionally flakes at Snapper, is going to shine.
“He’s got more variety than anyone on tour. Nine different
turns from takeoff to bottom turn… holy shit!”
Kelly Slater?
Last year Matt had him for Pipe, figuring he could win even with
a broken foot, and Fiji. This year?
“I’m going to watch him at Snapper. You never know what Kelly
you’re getting. With his wave pool, his boards, his clothing, his
focus might not be there. If he refocusses about surfing, he could
be fucking gnarly. Maybe John John winning everything might bring
him back. When the waves are shitty, and you have Filipe going from
zero to one hundred in one pump, he’s not going to win.”
Pool?
“It’s going to be won by the guy who can go ten-fucking-foot in
the air. That’s what it’s made for. Everyone will get barrelled and
come out and do a carve. The only way to make that wave exciting is
a guy doing fucking flips. The judges want to see guys experiment
in the air.”
Matt says Yago, Gabriel, Colapinto and Rodrigues are fine bets,
even Joan Duro although we both laugh knowing Matt’s job
description.
World title?
“Everyone’s saying Filipe. Take out Fiji and add in the pool and
Keramas and it does look likely, but I still think it’s going to be
head-to-head between Gabriel and John John. They’re going to
be like Andy and Kelly for a long time. They’re going to be
fighting for the world title for the next five years. It’s their
mental toughness. When shit gets gnarly they raise the bar and keep
raising the bar.”
Matt Bemrose is a former world qualifying series
competitor, and peer of WCT surfers Kai Otton and Dayan Neve. This
is Matt at South Narrabeen. Photo: Andrew Christie
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Jon Pyzel and Matt Biolos by
@theneedforshutterspeed/Step Bros
