Kelly Slater complains of check-in staff receiving
"kickbacks" for slamming passengers with excess baggage
charges.
Just in: Kelly Slater complains about
money!
By Chas Smith
Getting robbed on an ultra low cost regional
airline!
There are only four certainties left in this
life. The sun will rise in the morning. Guns don’t kill people, I
do. Three is a crowd. And Kelly Slater hates spending money. He
hates spending it, I think, on anything but really really hates
spending it when he thinks he shouldn’t be. Like today for example.
It is Easter Sunday in the United States of America and also April
Fool’s day. I generally loathe April Fool’s jokes, especially April
Fool’s surf jokes but I haven’t seen any today so am hoping that
Easter mowed over the lame.
Whatever the case, 11x World Champion Kelly Slater took moments
out of his Easter/April Fool’s celebrations to complain about ultra
low cost regional airline Jetstar’s baggage policy.
Kelly writes on Instagram:
@jetstaraustralia loves thier baggage charges. Apparently
the people checking you in get a kickback on what they charge you
at the end of the month. Overweight charges equate to about
$.50/ounce!
Just paid over $200 MEL – OOL for baggage, more than the
price of my ticket… again. I’ll never learn. Just FYI, not an April
Fool’s joke.
Now. $200 Australian is roughly $150 U.S. which is a smokin’
deal for a ticket from Melbourne to Coolangatta. But with smokin’
deals come nightmare headaches. I don’t know if anyone has informed
Kelly yet but the low ticket price for ultra low cost regional
airlines is what’s called a loss leader. It doesn’t cover the gas
in the plane much less the upholstery on the seats. Those who feel
they are getting a deal are soon dealt a full deck of $50 dollar
charges covering everything from wearing shoes onto the airplane to
breathing. I was once charged $50 for bringing a briefcase onto
Jetstar and another $50 for breathing (after I passed out and my
body started doing it reflexively).
I get that surfboard baggage fees can be extreme but how much
does it cost to surf Surf Ranch again? Is it $10,000 for a few
hours?
Yeah?
Loading comments...
Load Comments
0
Career change: Dingo starts boxing!
By Chas Smith
Coolangatta star steps into the ring!
Oh man oh man oh man oh man… Oh man. Have you
ever thought about changing careers? Of course you have. You’ve
looked across the aisle and wondered how you’d look in a pilot’s
hat or fisherman’s overalls. You’ve drifted off to sleep imagining
that you are saving lives/changing the world. But a new day always
dawns and that new day features the career you are accidentally in.
There is no saving lives/changing the world, only TPS reports and
shared fridges.
Well, at least we have Dean “Dingo” Morrison. You might remember
the li’l charger as part of the Coolangatta explosion that brought
us Mick Fanning and Joel Parkinson. He, alongside those two, played
on the championship tour for some time before drifting into the big
wave game and then away.
Until now.
Dingo is back but as a boxer instead of a surfer and let us turn
to the Gold Coast
Bulletin for elucidation.
“It was a real life experience and I was really proud of
myself, proud of myself for facing those fears.”
Morrison, who has been sparring and training for fitness and
to learn the sport the past few years, says he felt he acquitted
himself pretty well against opponent Chris Hodges who already had
several fights under his belt.
Hodges won the three, two-minute round bout in a split
decision on points and Morrison said he was “no push over” and he
was just relieved to be standing at the final bell.
“It was a crazy experience and I have never been so
exhausted in my life. I was just gone and it took me 30 minutes
just to talk afterwards.
But despite the intensity of the experience, Morrison said
stepping into the ring at Seaguls Club in Tweed Heads was one of
the best things he’d ever done: “I love learning new things and
that was one of the best experiences.
“I wouldn’t say it was enjoyable but I learned a lot about
myself. But I won’t be jumping back in there any time soon, that’s
for sure.
Morrison says he can’t even remember much of the fight but
it was something he had always wanted to do.
Mmmmmm. Won’t be jumping back anytime soon? I suppose that’s the
thing with career changes. The grass being always greener etc.
Loading comments...
Load Comments
0
Seb Zietz lays the foundational bacon on a club
sandwich. | Photo: WSL
Bells, Day 2: “Drenched in gothic
gloom!”
By Longtom
Come thrill at another day of professional
surfing!
Soz for the appalling misery guts who filed
yesterday. What a negative Nancy, as Dave Wassel would say. Anyone
would think Saint Mick himself had been put on the cross and
crucified.
Y’see when Derek asked me to cover all the comps this year a
current of cold fear ran through me. Every day. Of every comp.
Something no surf journalist has ever attempted. For good reason,
as it turns out. The problems with intensive pro surfing coverage
are despair and gaffes. Already I compared Sophie G’s enthusiastic
embrace of wave systems to the Nazi’s extermination of Jews in
World War II, a completely unintentional Freudian slip and we are
only at stop two on the Tour. Despair?
Well, I came up with the solution to that today.
While head judge Pritamo Ahrendt has raised the bar, very high
as it turns out, on what is excellent surfing, I did the opposite.
I dropped expectations so low that any heat, no matter how mediocre
would effortlessly reach them.
And they did! To quote Freddy Nietzsche, “Nothing succeeds in
which high spirits play no part”.
Seeing as the Grit has a man on the ground covering the play by
play I guess that allows me to freestyle as the colour bloke. Or
color guy. In which case, let me tell you about the time I pulled a
root from the Torquay pub and maxed out the points, as Rondawg
Blakey would say, in the judging platform at Winki. No, let’s a put
a more wholesome subject on the block. Let’s put Fanning’s legacy
on the judging into context instead.
Dane punched a huge hole in the judging criteria in 2009/10.
Judges lost their minds. A crossroads was reached in the final at
Bells, 2012. Kelly dropped a huge air for a ten and a bunch of
weird stuff. Fanning produced classic Fanning rail-work and the
judges, seeing the two side-by-side chose the Australian. That set
the template for the next five years: Neo-Classical Australian
Power Surfing. Everyone adapted. Adriano mastered it, Medina did,
even John John developed mastery of the form for his twin
titles.
Now, Pritamo has junked the script and the pro’s look lost.
Deers in the headlights. There’s a call for new blood and new
surfing but exactly in what form that will manifest is yet to be
fully determined. There seems a lot riding on the slender shoulders
of Griffin Colapinto. Weirdest thing for me yesterday was watching
Griff huck and Filipe trying to best him with power surfing. The
script has been flipped Filipe, I wanted to shout, and you’re the
new fucking author. The old game is deadly bones.
Bells was at its prettiest early, as it always is. Unlike
Snapper which becomes more sublime as the day wears on Bells reads
like an Edgar Allen Poe story: glittering and sun-drenched early,
becoming drenched in gothic gloom as the day wears on. Fanning
waited, and waited, for an opening ride. In the end, he stitched
together a couple of sixes for the win. It was utilitarian surfing
at it’s finest.
It set the tone for a day of hard yards in the Bells Bowl. Pro’s
seemed content with sixes and sevens, happy enough to limbo the new
judging bar rather than high jump it. Seabass, J-Flo impressed in
that space with neo-classical surfing that at least demonstrated
some fine edge work. I started writing my own number next to heats
as a measure of entertainment value, then looked at the lengthening
list of fives and sixes and stopped. No point.
We agreed yesterday that mental health is a vexatious bitch. It
was for Michael Peterson, it is for Shane Herring, was for the
late, great Andy Irons, even the great Kelly Slater struggles. It
sure was for the gal who threw herself off the cliff at Lennox
Point yesterday eve. My go-to self-help to rebuild the psychic
shield after a rugged day on the internets has been Marcus Aurelius
or that little Thai buddhist Thich Nat Han, but after today I’m
switching to listening to pro surfer pressers. Ace Buchan said
competing at Pro Surfing helped him be the “best version of
himself.*”
Could any surf writer stand before the creator on Judgement Day
and say the same? Or do we blame God for admitting the awful truth
that our good and bad are so intertwined that by throwing away the
worst of ourselves we also discard the best?
Finally a heat appeared from the Victorian gloom where someone,
both surfers, had a crack at broaching the new judging bar.
Rodrigues signalled an intention to go big with a clean, tail-high
air and Italo put the pedal down, hammering huge high speed hits.
If you watch one wave today on the Heat Analyser watch his 8.33 and
appreciate the speed. With the Griff in the box commentating it was
a sublime moment of entertainment.
This part of the demystifying campaign, where they get the pro
surfers in the box, is working brilliantly. From Jordy’s home-spun
parables and definitions to Griffin’s kooky, semi-articulate but
rock-hard assessments to Kelly’s pitching the Wave Tub Davis Cup
Tennis Tournament, it’s all working wonderfully, wonderfully
well.
After a day where, once again, too much pro surfing was barely
enough it put me on the top of the forking world, guv’nor.
*Sadly, but truly my wife thinks the best version of me is the
one heavily sedated on tramadol and…
Rip Curl Pro Bells Beach Round 2 Results:
Heat 1: Filipe Toledo (BRA) 9.50 def. Carl Wright (AUS) 8.33
Heat 2: Adriano de Souza (BRA) 11.57 def. Mikey McDonagh (AUS)
8.87
Heat 3: Sebastian Zietz (HAW) 15.17 def. Ian Gouveia (BRA) 9.43
Heat 4: Patrick Gudauskas (USA) 14.33 def. Kanoa Igarashi (JPN)
11.03
Heat 5: Ezekiel Lau (HAW) 11.43 def. Connor O’Leary (AUS) 10.00
Heat 6: Frederico Morais (PRT) 7.73 def. Michael February (ZAF)
6.43
Heat 7: Jeremy Flores (FRA)11.60 def. Keanu Asing (HAW) 9.84
Heat 8: Conner Coffin (USA) 13.74 def. Yago Dora (BRA) 13.64
Heat 9: Willian Cardoso (BRA) 13.36 def. Caio Ibelli (BRA)
11.33
Heat 10: Italo Ferreira (BRA) 13.83 def. Michael Rodrigues (BRA)
9.73
Heat 11: Wade Carmichael (AUS) 14.00 def. Tomas Hermes (BRA)
11.70
Heat 12: Jesse Mendes (BRA) 14.26 def. Joan Duru (FRA) 12.80
Rip Curl Pro Bells Beach Round 3 Matchups:
Heat 1: Jordy Smith (ZAF) vs. Wade Carmichael (AUS)
Heat 2: Kolohe Andino (USA) vs. Michel Bourez (PYF)
Heat 3: Owen Wright (AUS) vs. Jesse Mendes (BRA)
Heat 4: Matt Wilkinson (AUS) vs. Griffin Colapinto (USA)
Heat 5: Mick Fanning (AUS) vs. Sebastian Zietz (HAW)
Heat 6: Julian Wilson (AUS) vs. Patrick Gudauskas (USA)
Heat 7: John John Florence (HAW) vs. Ezekiel Lau (HAW)
Heat 8: Joel Parkinson (AUS) vs. Frederico Morais (PRT)
Heat 9: Adriano de Souza (BRA) vs. Conner Coffin (USA)
Heat 10: Filipe Toledo (BRA) vs. Italo Ferreira (BRA)
Heat 11: Adrian Buchan (AUS) vs. Jeremy Flores (FRA)
Heat 12: Gabriel Medina (BRA) vs. Willian Cardoso (BRA)
Loading comments...
Load Comments
0
Just in: Shortboards banned from
Trestles!
By Chas Smith
An inglorious fall.
What an inglorious gut punch this year has been
for southern California’s most iconic wave. Trestles, located just
south of San Clemente in bucolic San Diego County, has long enjoyed
its position at the top. Two whole generations have explored the
very fringes of progression while photographers stood shoulder to
shoulder upon the cobbled stone, bringing super-human feats to our
attention.
The wave has hosted the world’s best surfers and judges as an
important stop on the World Surf League’s Championship Tour and it
seemed like nothing but nothing would ever get in the way. Air
reverses ad infinitum.
Except then the wheels fell entirely off.
First, Trestles was dropped from Tour, leaving the entire United
States of America with zero events.
Now, shortboards, and progression, have been banned from
Trestles.
You read that right. This September 9 – 19 there will be a
minimum 9-feet-of-surfboard required to paddle out for the alt
longboard tour Relik is coming and has captured the permit. Let’s
read from the event website:
Relik unites the global longboard surfing community while
building a sustainable competitive platform for all disciplines of
longboard surfing. A modern and classic Longboard World Tour
hosting 50 of the top longboard surfers from around the
world.
Our goal is to perpetuate the growth of modern longboarding
as well as honor the masters of traditional logging and
style.
Relik’s modern pro division is complemented by an equally
impressive line-up of sixteen traditional standout competitive
loggers. These mavericks of style continue to perpetuate the art of
surfing and have been influential in enriching the longboard
community by honoring tradition and authenticity.
Son of a bitch. The end is certainly nigh.
Loading comments...
Load Comments
0
When Jordy was in the booth as part of the demystifying
campaign he was asked by Joe Turpel to define flow. To his great
credit he said the simplest definition of flow was no double pumps.
Which I heard as spaz pumps. By this definition the women were all
over the men and the men showed horrible flow. Worst offenders: Pat
Gudauskas and our World Champion John John Florence. Terrible,
terrible spaz pumping. I am a horrible horrible Judas having dark
thoughts about our beloved pro surfing comrades. | Photo:
WSL
Bells, Day One: “Fuck I’m glad I’m not
there!”
By Longtom
Bad thoughts on Good Friday…
I’m so fucking glad I’m not at Bells.
I’m kidding, it’s an annual pilgrimage of impeccable
history where the best surfers in the world gather to test
themselves, longest-running surf contest in the world, best
surf journalists on hand, you can pull a root from the Torquay pub,
best CEO’s and the best crowd etc…
Fuck I’m glad I’m not there.
It’s as cheery as solo drinking a warm beer in a mausoleum.
Kidding but not kidding, watching a CT live is so incredibly
different to watching on the webby it might almost be a different
event. After Snapper, I had to spend hours reviewing the video tape
to see what I had missed watching live and to parse the data. Live,
the crowd responds like a single organism and, by and large
,historically speaking they get it right. They responded in the
past to Slater, to Dane, to Fanning in his prime, Parko. Look
at this vid of Dane vs Parko 2009. You couldn’t get near the beach.
In 2018, it felt like it needed the defibrillator most days.
At Snapper they responded to Toledo, Mikey Wright and the rest
might have well as been rubber dummy’s sitting in the lineup.
Ace Buchan? I couldn’t find a single note on him, not a murmur,
maybe a polite golf clap, and he made the finals! Has this new
judging direction taken the surfing away from the people? Question
one for Bells.
The context of the question. Commenter Twillsy detected a sad
note in the coverage of Snapper and he was right, but I couldn’t
work out why. Days later it hit me like a wet fish in a cold sock.
The crowd. T
The crowd was way down on highlight moments in the past and
maybe the people, the Australian surf fan in particular have turned
their backs on pro surfing. If so, and in the rush to “audience
build”, the antipodean surf fan is alienated, disaster awaits.
There is nothing more fundamental to the continuation of pro
surfing than the Australian surf fan. They lend legitimacy to the
whole enterprise. It’s the bedrock on which the whole
creaking edifice rests.
In the parallel universe where Sophie G is the under-employed
surf writer and L.Tom is WSL CEO, the first order of business is to
make sure the Australian surf fan is the most duchessed, cosseted
sports fan on Earth. If the Australian surf fan don’t like it, it
don’t happen.
Back to Bells. Wimmins kicked it off in sunlit dreamy runner at
Winkipop. The opening wave, of the opening heat from Carissa Moore
was close to the highlight of the day. Coco kicked the tail with
abandon, Silvana looked formidable and Lakey looked sharper, more
powerful than the men.
Later, when Jordy was in the booth as part of the demystifying
campaign he was asked by Joe Turpel to define flow. To his great
credit he said the simplest definition of flow was no double pumps.
Which I heard as spaz pumps. By this definition, the women were all
over the men and the men showed horrible flow. Worst offenders: Pat
Gudauskas and our World Champion John John Florence. Terrible,
terrible spaz pumping. I am a horrible horrible Judas having dark
thoughts about our beloved pro surfing comrades.
Why can’t it be…cool? Why can’t it be something we can
all get behind? How did we ever lose faith in our beautiful little
endeavour and hand it over to opportunistic suits?
Alvin Toffler in his book Future Shock described the surfing
sub-culture as a “signpost pointing to the future.” As the wind
turned onshore and we ground through heats it seemed an almost
irredeemable throwback to the past. Bad thoughts on Good
Friday.
And the weirdest thing: Bells works. People pay,
real money!, to show up and imbibe the pro surfing Kool-aid. Always
have, always will. In 2025, when the rebel Real Ocean Tour
presented by Oculus Rift tussles with the WSL over locations and
talent Bells Beach will be the site of the turf war to end all turf
wars. Dreary old Bells. The beginning and the end.
The surf turned to gurgled-out runner. I was rooting hard for
Local Lennox Grom Mikey McDonagh to do some damage. He’s a smart
kid who rips, but he couldn’t get started and he couldn’t finish.
John Florence looked unconvincing, to my eye.
The smoothest goofy was Owen Wright with Wilko second. Did you
see that 1997 Skins Video posted up the other day? Supposedly, Occy
did the best surfing ever that day allegedly with a fair amount of
psycho-chemical assistance and a wonderful Dalhberg channel bottom.
I believe he would have won any heat today. That is the most
objective comparison I can muster.
Mental health is a bitch, is it not ? I thought succour from
this dour assessment may lie in the last heat of the day with the
final round one appearance of Saint Mick. He has been elevated
beyond a champion sportsmen, which he is, total champion, and been
fully canonized as a saint. A barefoot messenger of the divine who
walks among us mortals, bringing us ‘strine, beer and performances
to soothe the dark thoughts and inner demons of the Australian surf
fan.
But in the end, as the gurgle worsened and the gloom deepened,
even that hope was denied us by the commissioner. He pulled the
plug after heat eight.
Day one at Bells was left on the cross, flapping in the onshore
breeze.
