Listen: The songs that fuel the dreams of Caroline Marks!

The future is Drake!

Music is such a personal thing, don’t you think? For years and years I thought I had interestingly eclectic taste (The Dead Milkmen featured heavily in my younger rotations) but as I aged I realized it was just unrefined boorish taste and now I unashamedly listen to Miley Cyrus’s Malibu especially while writing.

In the book Cocaine + Surfing (buy here!) I describe it as “teenage girl” taste which, in retrospect, is very rude and could even be seen as an attempted going after the dreams of real teenage girl Caroline Marks.

And what does the sixteen-year-old future of professional surfing enjoy? Let’s turn to ESPN W!

While traveling the world for surfing competitions isn’t exactly the stuff of a typical teenage life, a great playlist can help to keep her grounded.

“I don’t always listen to music before I’m about to compete or surf,” she said. “But when I do, ‘The Greatest’ by Sia is on repeat. I absolutely love the words to this song. It gets me in a happy mindset — confident and ready to take on whatever I’m facing.”

For day-to-day training, Marks prefers rap.

“My go-go song when I’m training is ‘Trophies’ by Young Money and Drake,” she said. “I like more upbeat songs when I’m about to train. It’s crazy what a song can do to your mood, so for me this song gets me hyped!”

Here is her list for you but mostly for me!

The Greatest – Sia

River – Bishop Briggs

What do you Mean? – Justin Bieber

Back to the Old – Matisyahu

Bodak Yellow – Cardi B

Feel It Still – Portugal the Man

Remake: “Lemoore”, the sequel to kitsch surf movie classic “North Shore”!

Oh it's a real switcharoo!

Everything old is new again, yes? And this includes the kitsch surf movie North Shore, which was made in 1987 and, like all destined-to-become-cult-movies, was ridiculed at the time by critics.

This remake, imagined by BeachGrit reader Timothy Puñales, is set in a dystopia fifty years from now.

In a role reversal, the Hawaiian kid travels to Lemoore in an attempt to make his name as a professional pool surfer. Oh it’s a real switcharoo!

Let’s begin.

Hawaiian surfer Kamalei Moepono wins the championship at Pipeline and receives as his prize a ticket to Lemoore, California. One week later he travels to the mainland with his handmade Bushman, a small backpack filled with a wetsuit he has never used before and two freshwater wax pills.

“Don’t worry, mama,” Kamalei says before leaving. “Rick Kane Junior wins 100 thousand a year as a pond surfer. I’ll come back and buy you a new house.”

At the Ranch, he is greeted with ruthless bullying from local surfers, led by Rick Kane Jr, son of the star of North Shore.

“Hey guys!” says Kane Jr, “It looks like we have visits from the past!”

The boys make fun of his board and his appearance.

“This haole thinks he can surf El Rancho with a board made by a guy with his hands,” says another, laughing over the broken voice of Joe Turpel coming from the loudspeakers. Turpel, who is now eighty-seven years old, had left the WSL three years earlier and is reporting, live, each wave made by his late friend Kelly Slater.

Kamalei’s luck changes when he gets his dream job: working at a high-end surf boutique selling surf fashion clothes, accessories and the boards of his dreams, the Cable Fuego Pool Special.

The owner of the shop is Ferdinand Aguerre II, grandson of the President of the International Surfing Association, Fernando. The Argentinian businessman is skilled at discovering raw talent. He can feel that the Hawaiian deeply loves the perfection of the machine waves and Olympic surfing.

“I have noticed that you are not a young man like any other,” says Ferdinand. “I think that behind that ridiculous vintage surfer image you hide a true love for pool surfing and high-performance boards made in China.”

Ferdinand gets Pancho, the Ranch’s machine controller, to work an extra shift at three in the morning when Kane and his friends are usually at Lemoore’s best gentleman’s club, Leave it to Beaver (formerly Volcanic Eruptions).

Kamalei gets twenty waves a night between three and five am.

“I have noticed that you are not a young man like any other,” says Ferdinand. “I think that behind that ridiculous vintage surfer image you hide a true love for pool surfing and high-performance boards made in China.”

“Yes, sir, yes. Being the best freshwater surfer in the world is what I’ve dreamed all my life,” says Kamalei.

Meanwhile, the Hawaiian meets Dakota, an Arizonian stripper at Leave it to Beaver with augmented breasts and lips. She also works in adult films. A Lemoore princess.

Ferdinand Aguerre II gives Kamalei a magic board, so fresh from China he can smell the synthetics, just before the 50th Surf Ranch Pro.

At the same time, Kane finds out that the North Shore’s haole is not only is being supported by Aguerre but, in addition, he’s screwing his favorite dancer from Leave it to Beaver.

This makes Kane furious and he tells Ferdinand that the boards they are making in China are not what they used to be.

“These are ocean boards Ferdinand,” says Kane.

The surfers meet face to face in the final. Well, not really face to face, as one is inside the pool and the other one at the locker room, waiting for his turn.

The crowd is mostly on the side of Kamalei, the underdog from the forgotten North Shore of Oahu, where not a single pool has been built and surfers must settle for surfing only when the sea and the wind deem it possible.

The Hawaiian rips.

But Kane is not far behind and shows why he’s the number one in the ponds.

Michelob is sold in tremendous volume. Turkey-and-cheddar-cheese sandwiches run out.

Kamalei rides the last wave. If he achieves a 9.9995, he will win most prestigious tournament in the world.

The train begins its seven hundred yard journey. Kamalei paddles and stands up.


The crowd howls as Moepono reaches the hollow section and prepares himself for the main act: the tube ride.

In this very moment, with every fan’s eyes on the Hawaiian, Kane furtively approaches the train and puts a broomstick into one of the steel wheels..

The wagon begins to slow and the wave slows down.

Kamalei Moepono gets a shampoo rinse. A head-dip.

The Hawaiian can’t understand what is happening. Each and every one of the 785 rights he surfed there before threw the tube in the same place where now, a mushburger, spoils his haircut.

But inside him lives an ocean surfer. A rider who has depended on the instinct and the ability to react to face the unpredictable waves of the sea. That’s why he decides to get of the tube line, prepare an attack bottom turn and hit the lip with no mercy.

Like ancient times.

However, the force exerted by the wagon on the stick locked on its wheel is so great that it finally breaks. This happens at the exact moment when Kamalei opens from the line of the tube to lay down his bottom turn. With the train running free again the wave recovers its usual course, and it’s as if a South Pacific reef has grown underneath. The wave throws.

Kamalei is out of position. He can’t reach the tube.

The trophy goes to Kane.

Someone in the audience perceives the trap and starts to mutter. Soon, everyone boos the new champion. But he grabs both nuts with his hands and shakes them up and down, while two girls pour champagne on his head.

Ferdinand runs out to challenge Kane but Kamalei stops him.

“It’s just a contest,” he says.

Ferdinand smiles and winks.

Dakota interrupts the scene. She has arrived topless.

Shortly, Ferdinand, Kamalei and a couple of Chinese guys that use to work as shapers in the Cable Fuego factory, but were promoted to wash the floors in Ferdinand shop, engage in a joyous gang bang.

Final credits followed by hilarious outtakes and surfing scenes that didn’t make the final cut.

Dan Rose (left) Sheryl Sandberg (middle) and Mark Zuckerberg (right) pose with ...Lost surfboard.
Dan Rose (left) Sheryl Sandberg (middle) and Mark Zuckerberg (right) pose with ...Lost surfboard.

Aloha: The man who wed Facebook and WSL flees to Hawaii!

Heads begin to roll over J-Bay fiasco!

Oh it seems like just yesterday that we learned of the groundbreaking, earth shaking, gorgeously choreographed marriage between the World Surf League and the world’s largest social media platform Facebook.

Did you pop the bubbs when you first heard? When you first read Forbes crow:

The World Surf League and Facebook have inked a groundbreaking agreement which makes the social media platform the exclusive digital home for the WSL’s live events for the next two years. It is the largest deal in the history of the WSL and includes significant promotional aspects in addition to the annual rights fee. The WSL is expected to net an estimated $30 million over the two years, according to industry insiders.

$30 million over two years ain’t nothing to sneeze at. It is an amount I wish I had right now but, moreover, wish I had unfiltered/unlimited/unconstricted access to Facebook itself. The bastards throttle like you wouldn’t even believe and so the future was very bright minus Russian trolls and Mark Zuckerberg’s overuse of the word “senator” and… whatever.

But then there was J-Bay and the oops and the glitchy feed and the straight up lies lofted from the WSL’s Santa Monica HQ about the numbers of concurrent viewers etc. The rollout was by any measure a complete and utter disaster and let’s turn quickly to Awful Announcing which wrote:

The league was forced to apologize earlier this week to fans who experienced issues watching live streams of events on Facebook. As fans have tuned in to watch the early rounds of the Corona Open J-Bay, they’ve been met with a slew of streaming issues, including being unable to watch the event at all. The organization released an apology on their site, including information on how to watch the event until the issues are resolved.

Well bummer. But who was behind this potentially wonderful relationship? Oh. It was a man named Dan Rose whose title was Facebook’s Vice-President of Partnerships who answered the following question:

Facebook has funded some of the shows. How did you pick which ones to invest in?


Obviously, creating premium episodic content is expensive. Until we have a large enough audience – so the advertising revenue can cover the cost of creative — we helped fund some of them, so people see something when they go to Watch. Also, we wanted to inspire creators for what we think will work well for this product, to show the larger ecosystem what’s possible. The show with Mike Rowe [“Returning the Favor”], which has a real community focus, that was easy. World Surf League, which already has passionate community, is a perfect partnership. And the show with LaVar Ball [“Ball in the Family”] — that family has created a lot of conversation and interest.

Except then there was J-Bay with the oops and the glitchy feed and the straight up lies and now this Dan Rose is totally fleeing because the grumpy surfer was his unexpected end. Shall we read a touch from CNBC?

Dan Rose, one of Facebook’s earliest executives, is leaving the company, he announced on his Facebook page Wednesday.

Rose joined Facebook in 2006 and reported to Chief Operating Officer Sheryl Sandberg. He’s moving to Hawaii where his family has lived for the last year, he said, and will not seek another executive position. He plans to “stay active through advising and investing in companies,” he said.

Rose’s departure marks another key exit for the social media company as it battles scandals around user privacy and its ad-based business model and angry grumpy surfers furious at the less than quality rollout of a World Surf League something.

So long, Dan! Or as they say in Hawaii, “Aloha also means goodbye.” Or as they also say in Hawaii, “Haole want cracks?”

But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and John John Florence is the sun.
But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and John John Florence is the sun. | Photo: Morgan Maassen

Shakespearean: Wherefore art thou John John Florence?

I miss him every day. Every single day.

Last evening as the sun slipped down the sky and crickets began playing their night music my mind wandered to professional surfing, as it is wont to do, and the current World Championship Tour Jeep Yellow Jersey Leaderboard.

Filipe seems to have a clear path forward with a 6300 point lead over second place holder Gabriel Medina but who could ever count Brazil’s first ever champ out? Julian Wilson is fading down the stretch, as he is wont to do, Italo is becoming a fan favorite and looks to have a title in him sometime in the next few years. Wade Carmicheal should savor his possible top ten finish, Owen Wright is finding his sea legs once again while the sun is setting on Jordy Smith’s almost average career.

Do you know which name did not float through my synapses?

John John Florence.

Oh how the last 3 years belonged solely to him and him alone. Back to back championships, awe-inspiring bigger wave surfing, a film by Blake Vincent Kueny that had people weeping in the aisles from its sheer beauty. John John, like the diamond, felt forever. He was just getting started and maybe just maybe had an outside shot at taking on Kelly’s mark of 11 titles. Even an outside shot at becoming the greatest surfer to ever live.

But then injury, a partial tear of his right ACL, sustained at the Corona Bali Protected. Then paddleboard competitions, then making his Instagram account private, then… quiet.

He always seemed like a reticent champ. Slightly uncomfortable in the spotlight. He never had that lust for attention that drives Kelly Slater’s nonstop “look-at-me.”

I bet he is happy, which many GOATs are not. They fill that gaping hole in their souls though accolades and eyeballs. John John appears not to need and if he don’t need why would he subject himself to the… torture?

Which makes me wonder if John John Florence is going to go enjoy his life then what are we all gonna do?

Sit on our porches, listening to crickets playing their night music and mourning? Or remembering those three golden years (2014-2017) with fondness, tipping little bits of julep out of our goblets for the fallen homie?

I prefer the later but if you are in a mourning mood I’ll join you there.

Witch Hunt: San Diego congressman busted for trying to save the surf industry!

These are dark days.

BeachGrit is fastidiously apolitical. Who needs more knee-jerk leftism or dark incel-flavored misogyny? I mean, besides the staffs of Venice-adjacent’s own The Inertia and Stab? Not you, that’s for sure, and it is both why I love you so and how I trust you to understand the following story in its true context.

Very quickly, it was revealed today that Duncan Hunter, a Republican congressman representing San Diego, was indicted for using campaign funds for family personal expenses. And let us turn to the Failing New York Magazine for more.

One of the first two congressmen to endorse Donald Trump for president was Chris Collins of New York, who recently ended his reelection campaign after being indicted on insider-trading charges. The other was California’s Duncan Hunter, who was today indicted along with his wife for using hundreds of thousands of dollars of campaign funds for personal use. This really hasn’t been a good day for the president.

The indictment wasn’t a total surprise: Hunter has been under investigation by the Justice Department for misuse of campaign funds for more than two years. But the actual indictment shows malfeasance at an epic level, as CNN reports:

Hundreds of thousands of dollars in unusual charges on Hunter’s campaign credit card had come under scrutiny, including among other things, an Italian vacation, dental work, purchases at a surf shop, and huge tabs at bars in restaurants in the San Diego and Washington, DC, areas. Among the most mocked charges was airfare for a pet rabbit to fly with the family, which an aide said was mistakenly charged to the wrong credit card.

So, the only thing I’m seeing here, and believe the only thing you’re seeing as well is, “…purchases at a surf shop…”

The man could have gone anywhere for his surf needs, let’s be honest. He could have gone to Amazon or Amazon or even Amazon Prime. But he did not. He went to a surf shop thereby infusing our industry with much needed cash.

I seriously can’t believe the hypocrisy. W bails out the banks to the tune of 7 trillion dollars and Obummer adds billions more through the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act but one brave man tries to save the surf industry and he is put on a rail?

These are dark days. Dark dark days.




I tell you what, the second I run for office I am going to spend every last campaign dollar at Hansen’s in Encinitas.

Shop here!