Surfer attacked by tiger shark at site of
Maui Pro dies of injuries; WSL confirms no further competition to
take place at Honolua Bay.
By Derek Rielly
"You can bleed out very quickly from an injury like
this."
A recreational surfer who was attacked by a Tiger shark
at Honolua Bay, the site of the WSL’s opening tour event for
women, has died of his injuries at Maui Memorial
Hospital.
The Lahaina man, who was fifty-six, was twenty yards offshore
from the old boat ramp when the shark hit, causing catastrophic
injuries to his left side lower extremities.
A paramedic on the scene, Maile Calasa, told KITV, “You can
bleed out very quickly from an injury like this… My partner and I
were watching the surf because we already got canceled from a call
that was already at the bay, and we got approached and told from
the Jet Skis that a person got bitten so we got down there in a
reasonable amount of time. Then, two bystanders in a truck picked
us up and took us in to him… and that was huge as far as timing
went. It really came down to the whole team of people that helped
him, honestly. From the people at the Roxy Pro, to the watermen,
the lifeguards, firemen, police, the ER doctor that had blood as
soon as we got in the ER at bedside, the surgeon was there… all the
nurses, it honestly was a really great team effort. And everyone
worked together really, really well.”
The man’s board was recovered with a seventeen-inch piece torn
out of it.
In a piece to camera from Oahu on the morning of the attack, the
WSL’s CEO Erik Logan called the attack an “incident” adding the
WSL’s “thoughts and prayers” were with the “victim” and that the
event may be cancelled, which would make it the third WSL event to
be called off because of shark attack, following Jeffrey’s Bay in 2015 and Margaret River in 2018.
There have been five fatal attacks in Maui in the last twenty
years, 2004, 2013, 2015, 2019 and 2020.
All hits by Tigers.
A week-and-a-half ago, a Californian woman suffered severe
trauma injuries to her front torso after a hit while swimming in
front of the Mahina Surf condos on Maui’s Lahaina coast.
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One new feature of the webcast was the
celebrity call-in. An extended video chat over the broadcast that
ranged from the languidly sexual with new mum Kelia Moniz to the
wildly homoerotic with Tom Carroll who could barely contain his
froth at the sight of Kelly Slater's Twin Fin (he wants to feel
that twinny in the backdoor, he wants to feel it, he's ready to
go!”).
Billabong Pipe Masters, Day one:
“Homoerotic! Languidly sexual! ‘He wants to feel that twinny in the
backdoor, he wants to feel it!'”
By Longtom
A glorious opening gambit.
What was the end is now the beginning.
Pipeline.
And it feels OK.
Come Trestles it might be a wholly different story, but right
now, even with backwashy weird Pipe that looked like an Australian
beachbreak at various points in the day things are OK. It was a day
of moreorless soothing entertainment, low grade soap opera to
paraphrase Kaipo.
It was weird seeing the draw, I’d forgotten half the people on
it were still on Tour. Jaddy, Alex Ribeiro, Fred Morais, Peterson
Crisanto, Seabass. I think Strider may have damned them with faint
praise calling them an “eclectic crew”.
Seems like the Tour consisted of Italo, Kai Lenny and John
Florence over the last six months.
We got the last heat of the Mikey Wright/Leo three-peat to
decide who gets the injury wildcard. Both will be on Tour anyway,
so no great stakes but a fun enough drama watching Leo up the ante
with minutes to go threading a deep Backdoor bomb and greasing a
tail-high reverse on the end.
Mikey needed a wave and it came. He got pitched from crest to
trough. And that was really the tale of the tape. Superior decision
making from the Italian stallion.
Wait, can that still be said? It seems too toxic
masculinity.
The Covid protocols seemed weird. Strider started with the mask,
then stripped it down. Filipe rocked it for the full presser. A
black branded Hurley. Jordy in the paper, generic blue mask. Then
they were dispensed with. Slater, in plain black, wore one down the
beach but not for the presser.
Hair styles were a feature. Voluminous and man-bunned in the
Thor style by Connor Coffin, extravagant and unruly SeaBass and
JJF, luxurious helmets like Medina. Bodies likewise revealed those
who had let go of the reins and those who had been in the gym.
John, with an extra 10 pounds of muscle, looked the strongest.
Italo brought the same high energy, reckless approach. One huge
rotation to the flats on the shallow inside section drew groans
from the booth. A similar throwaway flip attempt by John on the
buzzer despite a comfortable win made my heart leap.
Italo seems indestructible, John fragile.
Ross claimed starting at Pipe advantages rookies, a claim I
strongly disagree with. Toy three-to-five-foot Pipe
notwithstanding, there couldn’t be a wave on tour that favours
incumbents over aspirants more than Pipeline. Compared to the
traditional start at Snapper, where a warm-water playful right
really does favour the rookie unless it is behind the rock.
I think we will see a rookie bloodbath at Pipe, with the obvious
exception being Jack Robbo, who was imperious in the last heat of
the day.
Jack joined a small number to make double-figured heat scores.
An even smaller number went excellent. One, in fact. That being one
Jack Freestone. That’s a fair assessment of a day where grinding
was as vital as threading tubes.
One new feature of the webcast was the celebrity call-in. An
extended video chat over the broadcast that ranged from the
languidly sexual with new mum Kelia Moniz to the wildly homoerotic
with Tom Carroll who could barely contain his froth at the sight of
Kelly Slater’s Twin Fin (he wants to feel that twinny in the
backdoor, he wants to feel it, he’s ready to go!”) to the barely
comprehensible with Mark Occhilupo.
It was strangely surreal, mildly unsettling and very amateur
hour.
In other words, a perfect fit for the WSL.
More to come, I hope.
Kelly was in a mild froth himself. Two days arrived in Hawaii,
no warm-up surf, hasn’t paddled out at Pipe since Feb. Riding a
black 5’6”twin fin. “
It never ends,” he said, referring to the chase, the stoke, the
“ADHD we get from waves”. Hopefully, I interpreted, his career.
He said it was “fun to find a new feeling” in relation to the
twin-fin but my favourite moment was a new riff on an old classic.
The carving/sliding three-o he pulled when the heat was won was a
little bone thrown to the true believers. The twinny elevated the
heat beyond the meat and potatoes served up for most of the
day.
Comparing the frontrunners who will be there at Trestles or
thereabouts: Jordy looked insane. Very happy, very fresh, very
free. No soul crushing Pipeline waiting for him next year must be
the most delightful feeling for him. Get the worst out of the road
first. Cruise through the back end, forget about Tahiti and crush
it at Trestles.
Medina looked both absent and then harried. But did enough to
squeak through.
Did Italo steal his soul last year? Question one for the Medina
camp 2021.
Italo was pure Italo, ready to go. More than ready, maybe. John
looks superb. Very calm, very composed, very strong. Recent edits
have shown a surfer in his prime, framing every turn with pure
speed and stillness. Trestles could deny him a runaway Title, the
one he was cruising to last year.
Toledo has been parenting.
And as all parents know, time in the water comes at a premium.
By the time you’ve fed the kids and cleaned up half their bowl,
fitness can suffer.
Can Pip surf his way back to peak fitness at Pipe? It does seem
a little late in the day for preparation.
If you missed the day?
Go watch John’s waves, Jordy’s and Jack Freestones heat.
Every wave of Kelly’s. A barnstorming Kelly run on a twin-fin is
the dark horse pick for 2021, and after the madness of 2020,
nothing can be ruled out.
Watch the whole eight hours again, here!
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An average surfer reviews fleet of
secondhand boards: “Anti consumerist. DIY punk ethos. A true
waterman can ride anything etc.”
By surf ads
Seven boards in eight months, total cost
$1240…
(Editor’s Note: Your correspondent is six feet
tall (183cm) and weighs 200 pounds (90kg). He is of average skill,
though prone to bouts of unprompted fall-down syndrome.)
All boards purchased within last eight months, except the
Bonzer.
Sam Egan 7’4 x 19 ½ x 2 ½ $400
Maybe ten years old, but in beautiful
condition. Hidden in the bottom of a pile at a second hand
board store. Six-ounce glass all over, thick stringer. Mid ‘90s
blade meets middle age. Heavy in all the right places. Excellent
price.
Surfed from four-to-eight-foot in strong, wintry conditions.
Groundswell, stiff offshore etc. You already know this story.
What more is there to say?
Maybe: why does your correspondent waste so much time pilfering
through secondhand refuse when he could just go and order something
to his exact dimensions?
For moments like this. For the rare boards. The hidden gems
Plus, it’s anti consumerist. DIY punk ethos. A true waterman can
ride anything.
Etc etc etc.
Yeah right, kook.
5’9 x 21 x 2 ½ Modern Highline $300
Anyway, faced with the existential quandaries proffered
by one’s own existence, the question of what board to ride should
sit weak legged in comparison. Like meeting Buddha and
asking how the weather’s been.
Exposing the triviality of aquatic poncing v life n death. Mere
guff.
But maybe it’s also a microcosm of those quandaries. A symptom
of them. Ignorance isn’t bliss, but enlightenment comes with
baggage too. The grass is always greener.
Or, in this case, shorter. After a winter of riding big boi
boards, your correspondent had sudden spring-time urge to do as
many throw away, un-landed airs as possible.
This five-fin biscuit presented itself on Gumtree. A machine
pop-out but purchased secondhand so less guilt attached. Still
glassed well. Ostensibly a learner’s board, but ridden as a twin it
had an almost mini-Simmons thing going on .
All the usuals. Paddled crazy, turned on a dime.
But ultimately the vibe of riding a pop-out VAL machine began to
singe this correspondent’s few measly stands of core credibility.
Felt like some sort of crime was being committed.
Also, correspondent does not like shorter boards. Your back
foot’s gotta go somewhere.
Footnote: Sold to a kindly English backpacker. Arranged for pick
up out the front of work. As correspondent was taking board from
boot, managed to crack rail on internal wheel mount. Fifty dollars
knocked off agreed sale price. Penance for sins committed.
Immediately took 7’4 out in two-foot onshore slop, like John the
Savage with his whip. A struggle, but that’s the point.
Salvation still awaits.
6’5 x 19 x 2 ⅜ Psillakis $40
Magic. Absolute magic. Picked up at garage sale. Still
in great condition under layer of grime (no, I didn’t try to fuck
it).
Standard shorty, but also not. Foiled, sharp rails. Wide point
slightly forward. SDV – the holy trinity shorty bottom shape. A
severely angular square tail. Neck beard-esque, but with slightly
less width. Looked like it had been cut with a set square.
The everything-in-one board (does that mean your correspondent
is one with everything?). Tight, controlled surfing. Would go
anywhere it was told. The hold and release on back hand reos in
particular offered a full twenty percent more range than comparable
shorties. However a slight shift of weight into the wider point
would allow it to press over flat spots, maintain drive etc.
Possible highlight telling people in the surf how much the board
cost.
“See this one? Forty bucks. Can you believe it? Forty. I can’t.
Forty bucks.”
Buckled on a backhand floater over a small draining section
after a dozen or so surfs. Crease above the fins. Terminal. Genuine
disappointment.
Toyed with idea of getting Psillakis to reshape but as with all
things in life, correspondent was too indecisive to organise.
Is this really where I want to be?
8’4 x ?? X ?? Swapped
The dreadnought. Has the ascetic lines of an
Imperial Star Destroyer. Less a surfing experience than a
forty-minute workout, with random wave cameos. Swapped for a custom
twin-pin mid-length which was evoking similar vibes to the Modern.
As featured in a couple previous stories on here already.
Quad but has lost both side fins, so surfing it as what can best
described as a mini-duo.
Beautiful entry into swooping bottom turns… but that’s it.
Turns like a dog.
Have somehow managed to crease despite thickness. Near terminal,
can feel board flexing through turns. Will ride until death then
maybe get a more functional version shaped. Still like idea of
something straight and pure for big, windy, unruly days.
Footnote: Recently popped out second to last fin on a bottom
turn, rendering it almost unrideable. Prepared to consign to
scrapheap but upon coming in from a later session at the same spot,
somebody had found fin and left it at showers, like a Chucky
doll.
Reminded when riding this board that you’re always somebody’s
reason to smile. It’s just that you are the joke.
5’11 quad fish Swapped
A recent fight with correspondent’s wife (asinine,
probably own fault, standard bullshit, with a chorus as familiar as
your favourite song) led to a hate-browse on Gumtree. Came
across this fish. A good replacement for the Highline.
Agreed to swap for an unridden mal. Excellent condition. Resin
tint. Unknown cenny coast shaper. Deep swallow, full through nose,
swooping curves. Radio edit of a Mackie sidecut fish.
Still haven’t properly inspected bottom shape, suffice to say a
quick run of the hand says there’s a lot going on.
Mainly ridden as a twin but had one fantastic surf with quads
in. Back foot planted deep over the swallow. Incredible hold and
drive.
Minor sticking point is the phallic shape of board, noted in a
recent surf paparazzo photo. Looks like Fisher’s famous dick
board.
Is this enough to stop your correspondent riding it, despite
superior performance? Probably.
Footnote: Shooting fish in a barrel might be easy, but riding
them in one sucks
Simon Anderson 6’4 x 18 ¾ x 2 ⅜ $50 on FB Marketplace
It’s December. Your correspondent started
watching Xmas movies most nights. But the criteria this year has
significantly loosened. Now includes movies with actors who have at
one stage or another have been in a Hollywood Xmas film. Dylan
McDermott, hunky star of the remake of Miracle on 34th
Street, is also the lead in ‘80s Vietnam war classic
Hamburger Hill.
A quote:
“This is Mr Nathaniel Victor, and gets his rocks off watching
you die. Some of you think you have problems because you’re against
the war. You demonstrated in school. You wear peace symbols on your
steel. You have attitudes. ‘I’m orphaned, my brother’s queer, the
city of Chicago gave the clap to my sister. Mum drinks, Dad coughs
blood, I have ringworm, the draft ruined my chances of being a
brain surgeon.’ People. You are in Vietnam. You have no problems,
except me. And him.”
Hardcore.
Anyway, latent masochism left your correspondent wanting to ride
something more brutal. Powerful. Plus, still trying to replace the
Psillakis. Picked up this $50 SA special. Excellent condition for
price, with fins. Refined shape. Full rockered. Needle nosed. (Just
had to remove GoPro mount – ew).
Realised this is close to the dimensions correspondent rode in
his early twenties: 6’3 x 18 1/2 x 2 ¼
Those were the days.
Only one surf so far. A couple of eviscerating turns conceived.
But when sitting out back, waterline comes up to your
correspondent’s chin. Is this board the equivalent of a mid-life
earring and leather jacket?
“I’m sick and tired of filling body bags with your dumb fucking
mistakes,” said ol’ Dyl McDermott to the rag tag collective of FNGs
at the beginning of H-Hill.
So it goes with your correspondent’s board purchases..
6’6 Campbell Brothers Alpha Omega $450 with board bag
The twinzer. Honorary mention. Mint condition.
Rare rounded pin (usually shaped as a swallow). Surely worth twice
this much. Purchased two years ago and has since been ridden almost
to death. Excelled in everything from grim one-inch slop to
eight-foot heaving Lances. As close to a one-board quiver as one
can get.
Simple enough design but intricate powers dwell beneath. Rich
tapestries of channelled energy. Plus it gets heaps of waves.
Sometimes we search through life while the answer lies rift in
front of is, with set fins and a partially delaminated deck
But even at the point of enlightenment, more questions present
themselves.
Like, does it come in a 6’4?
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Open Thread: Comment Live, Day One of the
Billabong Pipe Masters in Memory of Andy Irons presented by Hydro
Flask!
By Chas Smith
A deluge of professional surfing!
But did you watch the Pipe Trials yesterday,
here, with your best friends all naturally socially distanced and
appropriate? Doing the right thing, flattening the curve, not
putting undo stress on emergency rooms.
What fun.
I remember the halcyon days when sixteen, or such, Hawaiian
wildcards were entered into the main event. Somehow, some way, the
World Surf League convinced them all to fight each other, for our
pleasure, for just two wildcard slots.
Very “Gather the Native Americans up and march them to a
reservation.” Extremely “Trail of Tears” and we shall, henceforth,
call the Pipe Trials the “Trials of Tears.”
How will Josh Moniz and Miguel Tudela fare after surfing many,
many, many heats?
Let’s watch together.
And discuss below.
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“Best day ever” Mavericks has normally
stoic big wave surfers writing gorgeous sonnets: “Let those who are
in favour with their stars of public honour and proud titles boast,
whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars caught a full Mavs bomb
and it was super sick!”
By Chas Smith
Art.
But can you believe the feast of surfing we’re
in the very middle of being served? The women’s event kicking off
in Honolua Bay, Maui, with stirring performances from young
upstarts and vintage pros alike with a sprinkling of wonderful
identity politics. There very next day, yesterday, the Pipeline
trials ran in full while the women’s event was postponed due shark
attack while, across the Pacific, Mavericks put on an absolute show
with typically stoic locals writing sonnets to its
magnificence.
“Today is probably the best and the biggest day in recent
memory,” Surfline’s local reporter sang, dispensing with typical
chill.
Kai Lenny was there in the lineup and so were Jamie Mitchell and
Ian Walsh not to mention Grant Washburn and Taylor Paul.
Surf height ranged from the low 30s to the upper 50s, groomed by
gentle offshore winds.
“The best day I can remember,” crooned Grant Washburn.
“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely
and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date; Sometime too hot the
eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm’d; And
every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature’s
changing course untrimm’d; But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st; Nor shall death brag
thou wander’st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou
grow’st: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives
this, and this gives life to thee,” Taylor Paul whispered, tears
coating cheeks, watching the sun sink into the gorgeous
brownish-grey.
You can watch for yourself here. A little appetizer before we
climb back into the Banzai Pipeline.