Send nudes.
Send nudes.

Warning: “Diabolically large” 2076 lbs Great White shark swims within 100 miles of Northwest Florida setting off alarms throughout the state!


The human mind cannot fathom what occurs within the firing synapses of Great White sharks. We can make guesses, hypothesize, but are constantly caught off guard by the movements and purposes of the apex predators. By where they go and why they go.

Just hours ago a diabolically large female named Unama’ki (Land of Fog and Eaten Men in an indigenous Nova Scotian tongue) “pinged” within 100 miles of northwest Florida, coming dangerously near the shore and let us turn to the scientific journal Daily News for the absolute latest:

The shark, known as Unama’ki, is one of the largest and was tagged at 15 feet, 5 in. long by research nonprofit OCEARCH, which tracks this info “to help scientists collect previously unattainable data in the ocean” and hopes to “accelerate the ocean’s return to balance and abundance,” according to its website.

Researchers are looking to learn more about the breeding habits of great whites — also known as white sharks.

“As a big mature female, Unama’ki has the potential to lead us to the site where she gives birth and exposes a new white shark nursery,” OCEARCH said, according to USA Today.

Adult great white sharks can “grow to a maximum size of approximately 20 feet in length, weigh up to 6,600 pounds, and are estimated to live for 30 years,” according to the nonprofit ocean conservation group, Oceana.

Oh even the thought of a Great White shark nursery sends shivers up my spine. I imagine it would look like The Omen. Or The Conjuring. Or any horror movie where possessed little kids come to torment their parents.

Also, it is very suspicious that Unama’ki decided to get closer to shore today, as it was just revealed Florida is near passing a law that allows full frontal nudity at its nude beaches.

Could the “man-eating” beast be looking for some delicate, unwrapped appetizers?

Very possible. Terrifying.

More as the story develops and no surfing in Florida until the alarms turn off.

No nude sunbathing either unless gender transition surgery is on the horizon.

Despite, as we all know, his happy place being the kind of waves we all want to see at Pipeline, Jack can summon the fortitude to win in those that no-one wants to watch. Is that not three victories where Finals Day has taken place in terrible conditions? Margaret River and G-Land last year, and Pipe today? That’s World Champion material.

Let the Sun Shine In: Florida advances bill allowing full frontal nudity on its nude beaches protecting the state’s $7 billion dollar “au naturale” industry!

Free to be free.

And yesterday we read the extremely troubling news of one-time Arkansas governor, bass guitar fanatic, Mike Huckabee and his successful quest to privatize most, if not all, of Florida’s beaches. No more surfing unless you can afford a beachfront manse.

Today, though, there is good news coming to us from the Sunshine State for an important bill has been advanced to the legislature, without opposition, allowing full frontal nudity on the still public nude beaches.

A celebration of the human spirit.

A celebration of the human vessel and let’s learn all we can before shedding our trunks and paddling out.

One Florida state senator is working to make sure you can wear your birthday suit, worry free, at the nude beach.

Sen. Jason Pizzo, D-Miami, wants to make sure folks who enjoy the states 34 or so nude beaches are not arrested and charged as a sexual predator.

SB 850 does not make it legal to expose one’s sexual organs in public, but does make it legal to be au naturale in the properly permitted areas,

Those areas attract about 2.2 million tourists each year pumping an estimated $7 billion dollars into the state’s economy.

There are cases where people have been arrested and charged while on clothing optional beaches.

“That’s ‘no bueno,’ as we say in Miami,” said Pizzo.

That is definitely ‘no bueno’ and are you surprised, even slightly, that 2.2 million tourists travel to Florida’s nude beaches and pump $7 billion dollars into the state’s economy?

I certainly am. I certainly am while thinking it would do BeachGrit real financial good to get in on the “au naturale” industry.

Have you surfed nude?

Did you like?

What did you buy afterwards?

VAL-friendly, too! "Aloha! Care for a surf lesson? It looks like you might need a few pointers." | Photo: RLSD

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?

Buy here. 

Surf Ads, in pool, and snatched by Urbnsurf's house shooter, Surf Chimp.

Melbourne wavepool review: “A whirlwind, a dazzling frenzied whirlwind that tore me up by the roots and carried me high into the heavens!”

"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.

My quick take?

Qui- lit has already established the decrepit nature of the contemporary surf grump. Lives, family, loved ones are placed on the sacrificial altar in exchange for our fix.

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?

"Everybody surfs great!"
"Everybody surfs great!"

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!”

You can't script this!

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.



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.

Owned by outsiders.

Brought low by a billionaire-funded app.

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.