So long Coffey sisters! Meet surfing’s
brave new provocateur: “I have an articulating internal skeleton
which allows you to pose me in all kinds of nasty positions!”
VAL-friendly sex doll! "Aloha! Care for a surf
lesson? It looks like you might need a few pointers. That rental
board could use a nice wax, for one."
They say a good product sells itself.
Take, for example, the electric surf fin. I know an electric
surf fin may get you excited, no paddling, roll-in takeoffs etc,
but not as much as a new product from RLSD.
It costs $US1999 and is being touted as the most revolutionary
invention in the surf world since Simon Anderson affixed three fins
onto a board.
Meet Bree.
Aloha! Care for a surf lesson? It looks like you might need
a few pointers. That rental board could use a nice wax, for one.
You’ve been looking over here for a while! Now some girls might not
like to be gawked at so much, but I’m open minded. Lucky for you! I
know you don’t have a lot of experience, but there’s a nice swell
coming in, and it’s the perfect time to go for it. I’ll show you
what to do. First, you want to get on all fours, and paddle like
crazy. Once you see the wave rising, get up on two legs and go for
it. Don’t worry if you take a pounding – I know exactly how to
handle that. Assuming you survive, we can have a little fun
together! That was your original idea, wasn’t it? I can feel your
gaze boring into me. Wouldn’t you like to have your way with such a
pretty little surf bunny, with her long blonde hair, flawless
bronze skin, and tight, athletic body? If you play your cards
right, you can put your hands all over this perfect, soft and
realistic TPE sex doll. I feel astonishingly life-like. You’ll want
to touch me all over. I have an articulating internal skeleton,
which allows you to pose me in all kinds of fun and nasty
positions. Let your imagination go wild! I might be a doll, but
unlike your little sister’s Barbie, I’m completely anatomically
correct. Care to discover the details? I love the sand and surf,
and I’m always wet!
Do you love sand, surf, wet things and articulating internal
skeletons?
"It was the strangest thing I ever saw, a tableau
of the surfing experience painted so perfectly you couldn’t deny
its brilliance, even if you disagreed with its right to exist."
So that’s what it feels like.
My surf pool cherry’s been popped, after a lifetime of waiting.
No last-minute injuries or mud storms could stop me: a 24 hr FIFO
mission to URBNSURF Melbourne (at my own expense), with six hrs
spent in the pool.
It was the strangest thing I ever saw, a tableau of the surfing
experience painted so perfectly you couldn’t deny its brilliance,
even if you disagreed with its right to exist.
Yes, it raises many ethical quandaries.
It will continue to have its opponents, and in some cases
rightly so.
But jeez, it was fun as fuck. An artificial high
indistinguishable from the real thing. Stoke on demand.
Or, to quote one barrel-soaked punter after our twilight Beast
mode session, “That was better than my first pinger.”
Here’s some notes:
I managed to jag a group booking with thirty-five other souls.
All “advanced” surfers, to use the pool lingo. This meant we had
the entire tub to ourselves and could switch from left to right at
will, as long as we kept the numbers balanced. Plus, we could
change the settings as conditions dictated.
We had two x three-hour sessions. Two hours on turns, one hour
on advanced tube, three hours on Beast.
I spent five hours and forty-five minutes of my six hours on the
right. Because, why go left when you can go right?
(A fun tidbit: I’m not actually a goofyfooter. I’m also not
actually Munga Barry.)
I took my Holy Grail and a back up Sam Egan fish. Would take a
performance twinny as an all-rounder next time.
The wind affected the tube, as nature intended. First session
under a light WNW breeze had most barrels makeable. A brisk
southerly on the second day ruined the party like, well, a brisk
southerly.
(Surely there is an easy fix for this? Stack some of those
shipping containers up the southern end as a wind break?)
Water temp hovered around twenty (sixty-eight Fahrenheit). Air
temp typically fluctuated. Long arm springy was comfy for the
evening, two mm steamer for the cool early morning. Boardies and
vest (or less if particularly hot) would be fine during the
day.
For now.
Eleven-to-twelve wave sets. A minute or two downtime between.
Guaranteed a wave almost every set. Not once was I left wanting, or
feeling the wait was too long.
Lost count of total waves ridden.
When at full complement, the eighteen surfers per side were
packed very tightly. You ran more risk of damaging a board in the
queue then you did on the wave.
No hassling observed. Everybody got their fill. Some card
counting came into play towards the end of the second,
wind-affected day – the first four waves of each set on the tube
settings were always the best, whereas backwash started to impact
some (but not all) waves thereafter. The twelfth wave only broke
every second set and was sometimes a bit smaller.
There were no injuries reported from the entire group. Only one
snapped nose, and a lot of very sore bodies. The Beast packs a
punch and I copped a few nasal blastings, but I never truly hit the
bottom. Had more run-ins with the wiring mesh on the pier than I
did with anything else.
The amount of water moving around, particularly towards the end
of the set, made paddling back to the pier difficult if you blew a
wave. Better to ride it all the way in catch the rip back out from
the inside.
Sitting at the top of the queue facing the wall felt like being
a petulant child placed in the naughty corner. There was no way a
wave could come from here, you would think. But on cue the
whistling would start, the water would dip and a triangle would
form in front of you.
Spin, paddle, hug the wall and drop in.
Take off on all settings was easy. I have a habit of getting in
my own head and often fucking up basic functions – and you are
ridiculously close to the wall – but I only blew one take off the
entire time. That was towards the end of hour six and more due to
fatigue than anything else. (I also fucked up countless
turns/barrels FWIW.)
Advanced turns: A fun drop into the first section naturally
loaned itself to an off the top. But immediately the effect of the
freshwater was felt. Top turns stuck and even with my well-volumed
EPS I wriggled from rail to rail like an eighties quey warrior. I’m
not usually much of a fin person, I’ll just go with whatever, but
for the pool I had a new set of Kolohe larges in the Holy Grail.
I’d ridden a borrowed set on fun bowly rights (in the ocean) and
was so impressed I immediately went and bought some.
But in the pool they felt draggy, slow. Something looser was
needed.
Regardless, it was still eminently rippable once you adjusted.
Most waves offered ample space for two or three turns, with an end
section of varying quality.
Advanced tube setting was a lot of fun, despite being slightly
wind affected. Another easy roll-in with a gentle cutty/carve
section to begin with, before a speed stall and squish into an
enjoyable little tunnel. The below photo was wave three of the set
so still quite clean, after that they were more warble and
chandelier-affected.
Ahhh Beast mode. My sin, my soul.
I was expecting some sort of old school Kirra groyne below sea
level grinder with the associated low make rate. It certainly was
thick, but I actually found it relatively manageable, again thanks
to the easy roll-in, and similarity to a local ledge. These were
legit, heavingt nuggets that opened up a lot more cleanly than the
advanced tube setting.
I took the advice of Swellnet‘s Stu
Nettle to stay low, and angle lower. Nose directed
almost to the beach to wipe off speed before a quick correction to
get up and under the lip. An immediate short but intense cover up,
no slow-motion cascading lip or time to appreciate it. But a damn
fun tube with some wickedly surreal vision, especially when the
lights came on late.
I had a solid tube make rate on day one, way better than I would
in the wild, and I’m no Jim Banks. However, this was impacted again
by the wind on the second day, I made less in two hours than I did
in one hour the night before.
It was my absolute personal highlight, though, and the thought
of getting it on a true “offshore” day has me salivating.
But each of the settings on their own was worth more than the
price of admission.
What else?
There was way less paperwork and red tape than I imagined, and
super friendly staff. Very keen to help in any way. One of the guys
even threw a directional shaka when I asked where I could buy a
bottle of water from.
How stoked must he be?
We pretty much had the joint to ourselves the whole time and
only caught a glimpse of the session before ours. But it was
immediately obvious the skill set of other surfers varied widely…
Whether this would be a plus or a minus for a competent surfer, I
cannot say.
We are all compromised by our selfishness, our wonton gluttony.
Why not at least condense it?
So just do it.
Leave your apprehensions at the door, and score some guilty
pleasure.
For me, the only real question is: when should we book the BG
group day?
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Roof on Fire: The Death of the
Establishment and what it means for professional surfing’s “Wall of
Positive Noise” and other purveyors of “That Chubby Life!”
The end is officially here and don’t it feel
grand? Don’t it feel thrilling? Better than you could have
even imagined? A Volcom tagline
victory 20 years late but better late than never?
It is better than I could have even imagined and I’m only glad I
have the luxury of witnessing it now instead of later.
Today instead of tomorrow.
Ding dong the establishment is dead.
Officially, unequivocally dead. Lying there on the floor, eyes
rolled back, belly protruding, pulse gone.
Laying there too.
Youth won.
20 years late but won.
The fraudulent debacle that is Iowa and its caucuses (bringing a
harsh association shame to Chechnya) is laughably rich. Love Trump
or hate him he destroyed establishment Republican politics with a
hammer four years ago. Love Bernie Sanders or hate him he just
destroyed establishment Democratic politics and the final death
rattle, the last gasp, escaped the establishment’s chubby corpse
last night in Iowa.
Pete Buttigieg.
Yeah.
#MayorCheat.
If you haven’t been paying attention, the first political
primary in these United States of America was conducted last night.
It is a normally staid affair but this year a candidate the ailing
establishment didn’t want was threatening to crush before rolling
to an easy victory.
So salt was thrown and a completely false Wall of Positive
Noise™ narrative pushed forward, claiming after an almost 24 delay
and after a poll got scrapped because it didn’t align with the
desired outcome of a complete bland corporate patsy and now the
Democratic Party is in the same exact position as the Republican
Party.
Absolutely broken but better yet controlled by outsiders.
The billionaire-funded World Surf League is next with it’s
bland, transparent appeal to some false, cowed, idiotic,
shrunk-to-nothing audience and its “punk but bloated” surrogate is
next.
The People™ are outside and in numbers great enough to rip the
Wall of Positive Noise™ down brick by brick, spraying the whole
thing with gasoline then pitching a match while the roof, an
unfortunate casualty, motherfucking burns.
I ain’t young anymore but so fucking long establishment.
It was almost fun.
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Famous South African Surfer asks: “Only 10k
Great Whites estimated left in the world and 7 Billion people. Who
needs a culling more?”
But do you belong to any helpful organizations
like PETA or NOW or Teamsters Local 542 or the Surfrider
Foundation? I’ll admit to being perpetually intrigued but generally
lack the courage of my convictions when it comes to filling out
paperwork etc.
Still, jealously bubbles and FOMO too when I see activists
having a fine time. Enjoying themselves etc.
On a similar note, the very famous South African surfer Grant
“Twiggy” Baker proposed a provocative question on BeachGrit’s
semi-famous Instagram account late last night. Derek Rielly,
reporting on a second possible Great White carcass stuffed under
Margaret River’s famed reef, posted a little teaser and encouraged
people to visit BeachGrit’s anti-depressive website for more.
https://www.instagram.com/p/B8IiAXtD_xD/
In the comments Mr. Baker wondered, “Crazy shit, only 10000
whites estimated left in the world and 7 Billion people. Who needs
a culling more”.
A very interesting hypothetical but before I could come to a
conclusion @jordossr asked where he got the stat to which Twiggy
replied, “NatGeo said 5000 I just doubled it Incase”.
Is it true? Only 5000 Great Whites left worldwide?
As the leading shark-cum-surf journalist, I immediately got down
to work and discovered that treehugger.com claims only 3500
“left in the
wild” while phys.org declares there are 8000 in
Australian waters alone.
Hmmm.
Still, both numbers are very much less than the 7.8 billion
people on earth.
Culling people is a very slippery slope, though Shirley Jackson
might have been on to something with her famous short story
The
Lottery.
Did you read in school?
Did it terrify?
Also, do you think Twiggy is more famous than Jordy Smith?
I would make the argument that he is.
But back to this human cull. Could shark cages filled with
children (above) be a possible answer? A lottery for which kids go
in and how long they stay down?
No?
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Outrage: Florida beaches becoming
privatized at record clip as wealthy homeowners seek to “put an end
to that degenerate surfing life!”
Public beach access is very much taken for
granted in the windy and cold (this morning) state of California.
Oh there are certainly some crotchety homeowners in enclaves like
Malibu who dillydally with fences and/or sit on modern steel and
glass decks gripping 1928 Purdey hammerless shotguns but they are
the exception as opposed to the rule.
Across this great nation, however, in the state of Florida, the
public beach is on the verge of extinction as one-time governor of
Arkansas and prominent television host Mike Huckabee leads a
campaign to shut out the masses and, very likely, put an end to
that degenerate surfing life he so loathes while also having them
pay for upkeep etc. with their dirty, wax tainted pennies.
It’s almost too fantastical to believe but let us turn to the
Tallahassee
Democrat and stoke our outrage.
Beachfront property owners, aided by high-priced lobbyists,
have stripped local governments’ power to oversee your ability to
enjoy the beach.
In 2016, Walton County adopted a “customary use” ordinance,
reorganizing the public’s long-time use of the coast for
traditional fishing and recreation, while codifying the ability of
residents and tourists to continue to do so.
Wealthy beachfront property owners, however, led by former
Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee, rebelled. They lobbied the Legislature
into passing House Bill 631, making it easy for beachfront owners
to employ the courts to block the beach. Threatening signs, fences
and security guards have been employed to block public beach
use.
Similar efforts are being planned throughout the state.
Indian River County for instance has been forced to file suit to
establish public access to a large portion of its beach line, while
beach blocking attempts are being looked at in Sarasota, Pinellas,
Palmetto and elsewhere.
Threatening signs? Security guards? I wish there were more than
thirty-thousand surfers in America so we could stage an impressive
march and carry our own threatening signs.
What would they say?
What is the surfer version of the wonderful pussy hat?