Let me tell you this. Eighteen feet. Very big. My finger, not my trigger finger, not my tequila boom boom finger, but a finger nevertheless, it snaps. Very big waves. Eighteen feet.

Tech billionaire breaks finger surfing “18-foot waves with Laird Hamilton!”

Is Adam Neumann the most important man in surf? He's got wavepools, Laird Superfood and big-wave skills…

You might’ve heard the name Adam Neumann thrown around if you follow the travails of new money and the inexorable rise of various tech billionaires.

Yesterday it was revealed Neumann, who is an “avid surfer with a house in the Hamptons” busted a digit while surfing “eighteen-foot waves with Laird Hamilton.”

(Briefly mentioned here.)

Neumann, thirty-nine, is an Israeli-American who was raised on the collective farming miracle called kibbutz and who served three years with a M4 machine gun protecting Israel from its vicious enemies.

His company WeWork, which is valued at twenty billion dollars, is based on similar collective principals, various workers share office space, enjoying the cross-pollination of ideas as well as the reduced cost of renting an office.

Two years ago, Neumann bought a “large stake” in the Spanish-German wave pool enterprise, Wavegarden and, earlier this year, he bought a stake in Laird Superfood, which promises ordinary people terrific benefits if you swallow the various potions, including performance mushrooms and Peruvian coffees.

Of course, the best part about Neumann, apart from his gun skills, is the story about the female employee of WeWork who said he “plied her with tequila shots during her interview with the company.”

The company used to have a free beer policy, with no limit stipulated.

Shortly after the suit, this was revised down to four beers a day.

Watch: Kelly Slater, Tony Hawk and Shaun White in “One chromosome too many!”

Thirteen minutes of your favourite hits from the eighties and nineties!

Rare are these sorts of pleasures. Awkward yet charming.

In this offshoot of James Corden’s Carpool Karaoke, skateboarder Tony Hawk, snowboarder Shaun White and Kelly Slater (surfer), all of whom occupy a similar plane in their respective sports (Shaun says he was called the “Tony Hawke” of snowboarding and all have been referred to as the “Michael Jordan” of their games) banter back and forth, some stories fly, some zig-zag like a fire lantern before crashing and fizzing out.

Songs include The Knack’s My Sharona, the The Ramones’ I Wanna Be Sedated, In Love with a Girl by the White Stripes (Kelly says he has to play air guitar to that song and explains that he’s been a guitar man for thirty years) and Shaun White does a very good parody of Kelly’s best pal Eddie Vedder with a theatrical version of Pearl Jam’s Alive.

The set closes out with Devo’s Whip It, although would you have preferred, say, Mongoloid? 

To get the full show, you gotta get the Apple TV app on your phone. Proprietary sons of bitches etc. 

WSL President of Content, Media and Studios wines and dines young surfers!

Smiles as wide as shakas!

The World Surf League President of Content, Media and WSL Studios, Mr. Erik Logan, is officially in the building and ooooee! Santa Monica’s high castle has never seen such hot surfer action.

Oh look, in that spacious office feat. floor to ceiling windows and appropriately reclaimed shelving. Who’s lounging upon the supple brown leather couches? Only professional surfing’s sweetheart Coco Ho, America’s only hope Griffin Colapinto and the boy who could turn Connor Coffin.

Now look courtside at the Los Angeles Clippers basketball game (top). Squint those eyes and take in Connor and Griff again but this time joined by Kanoa Igarashi in brand-new Gucci sneakers (such a power move considering the current Gucci ban), the Mother of Dragons and Courtney Conologue. Each wearing smiles as wide and tight as Mr. President’s shaka.

“Pffft…” You dismissively exhale. “The Clippers. Such a WSL move. If the League really wanted to show the world and surfers it has arrived it would have plopped them down courtside at a Lakers game.”

And while you’re right, that’s also just us being grumpy locals.

I am beyond excited to meet Mr. President in person though don’t expect the same treatment. Maybe we’ll get to chat in the High Castle’s basement conference room. The one with authoritarian slogans painted on the walls.

Or maybe across the street at Dogtown coffee.

But is it wrong for me to dream of a day when surf journalists cuddle on that supple brown leather couch? Nick Carroll’s legs kicked up on the soft arm, his head cradled in my own lap?

Is it wrong for me to hope that Mr. President might just might fill the WSL-sized hole in all our hearts?

Stay tuned!

Concierge: Come find “delicious glimmering triangles” at Noah Surf House, Portugal!

Want to paint yourself into overhead barrels on Portugal's surf rich coast but need a little sexy in your accommodation?

Looking out across the western horizon, an atmospheric haze atop a sea surface glaze heralds all the sunset you’ll ever want or need. Witnessing this final farewell on the terrace at Noah, you can’t help but feeling you’ve been invited to the only party that matters.

For its relative dearth of freedom of expression in nomenclature, notably in proper nouns for people and places, Portugal more than makes amends via the pursuit and delivery of earthly pleasures.

And nowhere along her fine shores do they manifest more than at the excellent Noah, perched just so above the golden stretch of sands at Santa Cruz, fifty clicks north of Lisbon.

The various Santa Cruz (holy cross) ‘s are many. Which begs the question, would He really want reminding exactly how He met His sticky end? Surely the actual method of offing is by the by compared with all the fine work. Perhaps the Feeding of the five thou’ would’ve been better commemorated in Iberian peninsula place names had He only had the extra foresight to turn a handful of Galilee seawater into Portuguese olive oil from Alentejo to dunk those loaves in, especially the kind served at Noah.

More of that to follow.

Both Noah Surf House and Restaurant & Beach House are smart, spacious, ambitious new builds where post-modern concrete, high-performance glass and bleached wood all open toward the big blue Atlantic.

A well-placed succulent here, a cross-processed surf print there, from the juice in a jam jar meets artisanal loft meets up-cycled fisherman’s hut aesthetic, mature surf chic abounds. At a glance you could be in the surf haunts of  Malibu or Avalon, only with added old-world charm and vertical history.

Welcome to modern Portugal’s pleasant shred-tinged confluence of gastronomy, design and internationalism.

The eight bedrooms and thirteen bungalows of Noah Surf House are cosy, comfy and well-appointed, and suit a range of budgets. Go all in on your own Mar & Cook Bungalow boasting seaview, kitchen, fireplace, outdoor shower and surf racks. Or merely toss your pack on a bunk in communal lot and get your Euro backpacker on in the finest of style.

Surf House’s cocktail bar, surf shop, wooden skatepark, organic veg garden, communal kitchen, gym, outdoor pool and jacuzzi all promise to nourish and stoke your rig to varying degrees.

Noah Restaurant & Beach House has nailed that rarest of vibe, refinement without fussy and wanky, cool without judgey. Whether you savour the Atlantic’s legendary local delicacies, or have virtue signalling hashtag plant-based requirements, a recurring theme of excellence and modernity runs through the menu.

And yet for all the culinary craft and cleverness, it’s the basics that steal your heart.

A wee dish of liquid sunshine to dip morsels of rustic loaf appetiser in (it’s still Europe, there’s gonna be carbs) became a daily highlight during my stay. I still think about that olive oil and its notes of artichokes, most days. It comes from the Alentejo wine district south of Lisbon and is called Angelica – another Good Book reference –  and I thought it was the finest olive oil in all the world. As did the New York International Olive Oil Competition jury of 2015.

From your base at Noah you’ll love moseying down to Ericeira, Europe’s finest surf town for variety of surf break, a half-hour south. Or saunter up to thumping Supertubos, slightly closer to the north. Perhaps boot an hour up to witness Nazaré’s unique sinister threat.

The surf at Santa Cruz crashes with varying degrees of violence out front of Noah’s. Some days it’s the best spot on the entire coast, when slightly overhead groundswells render it delicious glimmering triangles.

Other days, it’s monstrous and out of control, such is the whimsical nature of Atlantic cyclogenesis.

Book here. 

Windfall: Maui government coffers swell to overflowing thanks to big Jaws!

Kids who get free school lunches rejoice!

I am currently somewhere between Salt Lake City, Utah on the way to Jackson Hole, Wyoming holed up with family in a roadside hotel while a winter storm rages outside. All things considered not a bad situation or not as bad as it could have been.

A big storm hit Maui just a few days ago, for example. A huge storm and created maybe the biggest Jaws ever. Unsurfable sure but still a spectacle and people drove from near and far to see the extra-large breakers.*

Well, the Maui government rubbed its proverbial hands together and got rich. How? Let’s read the Maui News Now story titled Multiple Parking Violations at Ho’okipa Amid Mega Surf.

Maui police responded to reports this evening of multiple parking violations at Hoʻokipa Beach Park with reports of hundreds of vehicles at the location throughout the day.

High surf of up to 60 feet was being forecast for the north shores of Maui, attracting spectators and “triggering a multitude of illegal parking on the Hāna Highway” according to Nāpua Hūʻeu, a Resident Volunteer Organizer with The Kua Hawaiʻi Project.

The organization website describes the group as a resident volunteer program to enhance visitor safety and protect the sacred sites of Hawaiʻi.

Group organizers say the motorists created delays and hazards at various points along the scenic North Shore route. “High winds and rains added to the fragility of the scene with visitors traversing down the beach cliff side to, as one visitor noted, ‘photograph the surf up close,’” said Hūʻeu.

So see? My current situation could have been worse. I could have gotten a parking ticket.

*How do you feel when folk refer to waves as “breakers?” Have you ever used legitimately?