Yaz and Gaz, heavenly bodies. | Photo: @yasminbrunet1

Shock: Brazil media reporting rift between Gabriel Medina and step-dad Charlie, mammy, after wedding to model, “Their fear is that after so much sacrifice, everything will fall apart because of the marriage!”

“They have always lived through Gabriel's career. Imposing discipline, giving strength and controlling everything closely. Now, he is no longer a boy and shares his life with his wife."

Only one month after wild speculation that Gabriel Medina had formed a loving union with soccer superstar Neymar Jnr, Brazilian media is now reporting on a rift between the two-time world champ and his family after his surprise marriage to actress and model Yasmin Brunet.


Media there is reporting that “Neither the surfer nor Yasmin follow Charles Medina and Simone Medina, Gabriel’s stepfather, whom he always called his father, and his mother. The two also stopped participating in the networks of the model and her son” and speculates that parental sadness over losing their lil man, the ol empty nest syndrome, may have driven the split. 

For those who know the Medina family, Charles and Simone would be concerned about their son’s future on the waves. Although Gabriel opened the 20-21 calendar well, with a runner-up in December, they fear the boy’s focus has shifted.

“They have always lived through Gabriel’s career. Imposing discipline, giving strength and controlling everything closely. Now, he is no longer a boy and shares his life with his wife. It is undeniable how passionate they are,” says a friend.

Yasmin and Gabriel met at the beginning of last year and soon went to quarantine together.

The internship ended at a wedding in December in Hawaii. Without the presence of relatives. Charles and Simone are also afraid, according to people close to them, of the type of exposure that the marriage between Gabriel and Yasmin has.

In a brief search on the internet, most news related to the athlete is about the couple and not their profession. At 27, Gabriel Medina, one of the greatest surfers in the world, still has a lot of waves to catch.

“Their fear is that after so much sacrifice, everything will fall apart because of the marriage,” says one of the sources.

Star German beach volleyball duo brings Middle Eastern monarchy to its knees as Qatar reverses bikini ban: “There are no restrictions on female players wearing standard uniforms!”

Twists. Turns.

The most exciting international storyline of 2021 took another wild turn, hours ago, as the Middle Eastern monarchy of Qatar reversed its ban on bikinis ahead of a volleyball tournament in Doha.

Star German duo Karla Borger and Julia Sude had declared their intention to boycott the event, saying, “”It is not about wearing little, it’s about not being able to do our job in our work clothes. We don’t want to go along with that. This is really the only country and the only tournament where a government tells us how to do our job — we are criticizing that.”

The Qatar Volleyball Association had an extremely tense meeting in the wake of the declaration, changed course and issued a terse statement. “Following further discussions, the QVA has confirmed that there are no restrictions on female players wearing standard uniforms during the event in Doha, should they so wish.”

The Federation International Volleyball, which had initially rolled over to Qatar’s demands, also issued their own newly empowered decree. “The FIVB believes strongly that women’s beach volleyball, as all sport, should be judged on performance and effort, and not on uniform. Therefore, during the competition in Doha, should players request to wear the standard uniform, they will be free to do so. The FIVB and QVA are united in their commitment to host a welcoming, safe and inclusive event that allows athletes to compete at their very best.”

It is uncertain if Borger and Sude will use their new power to change neighboring Saudi Arabia’s law prohibiting women from traveling without permission from husbands or male relatives.

More as the story develops.

Surf Anthropology: As Surfline Man defines the soul of southern California does Mid-Length Man present the personification of Australia’s wretched VAL culture

A terrifying new cultural passenger… 

Mid-Length Man lifted his head off the pillow and watched lines of whitewash zip along the inside section of the point, smug with feelings of vindication at the decision to open the Transporter barn doors after his 4:30am piss on the nearby pandanus.

If not for the crochet beanie-wearing guy on the surfboard bench seat partially obscuring his view, his head need not be lifted.

Twenty-one hours earlier, Mid-Length Man was lost in thoughts of high-lining while grinding a carefully measured portion of Campos beans.

8:45… Urgh… Karen would be in soon for her single origin on soy. He needed a break. These cash-in-hand shifts were a great top up to JobKeeper but he needed to reset. The cafe’s patronage had surged when the restrictions were lifted but his stress levels were now peaking.

He needed to escape. A strike mission to Crescent Head.

Mid-Length Man flicked a text his snuggle buddy Sammi. She was keen, but had a shift at the local Mex joint that evening. They would hit the Pac Highway closer to tenand roll into Crescent by two-thirty. He opened the Seabreeze App. Port Macquarie was reading two metres of south east and light sou-west wind for the next three days. He could already taste the coastal estuary in the gentle offshore being funneled out to the point by Killick Creek.

In the muted greys of pre-dawn he could make out three figures sitting at the top of the point. Two wore hoods. The third scratching into one riding a kneeboard.

What would he ride?

A perfect morning for his 7’6″ MOTE twinny. Those channels would bite and drive. Not punchy enough for the Josh Keogh and the Mackie flex-tail, side-cut, long fish he’d packed could wait.

It didn’t feel right surfing it now. It was ordered for the Ments, the Barrenjoy, Lances.


Mid-Length Man quietly suited up in a three-two Need before accidentally kicking over an empty stubby of Coopers Sparkling he’d placed next to the tyre only hours before. Sammi stirred, pushed a mat of golden blonde hair from her face then reached out and closed one of the barn doors. A faint waft of the face balm she applied last night drifted from the van, mango, coconut and jojoba.

Pre-purchase, he had debated internally between the Need four mm boot and the Vans Surf Hi. Need are core but Vans are Vans. Superior grip and that stripe. Even more so the offset white toe jammed perfectly with the volan deck of the MOTE. Look good, feel good he told himself. They slipped on effortlessly and he folded his wettie back down, though careful to keep the checkered pull tab exposed.

Mid-Length Man delicately placed his board on the weathered sandstone at the back end of the keyhole. He tied up his hair in a bun and watched a hooded dad-bod streak down the line on pistachio-tinted Tracker. Probably drives a Kluger he mused. He flex checked his fins out of habit. Torren Martyn keels.

A lump surged across the suck rock and he swung.

Relax. Consider your movements. Stay low. Feel the energy.

A soupy brown wall stood up and he adjusted slightly, aiming down the line.

The kneeboarder hooted and threw a shaka.

Mid-Length Man rinsed off under the public shower behind the surf club and sauntered passed the swelling crowd ordering banana smoothies round front. Two Coastalwatch Dads in Carve tees were setting up their tripods rapping about the Surfline buyout. Their sandy haired offspring – Taj and Kai – waxed their sticker-covered Pyzels. This morning they were to focus on combos.

With any luck, Sammi would have a fresh brew of Kenya Gikanda Kangocho on the portable gas stove.

As he neared the Transporter, there she was, wearing that pastel yellow dress. The lace detail resting on her knees drew his eye to her slender set of warmed brown sugar legs. Barefoot. She wore his denim sherpa jacket. A perfect messy bun of golden blonde hair held together by a tortoiseshell colored clip. Steam rose from the Bialetti capturing the soft morning rays.

She was reading a story about Lee-Anne Curren in the new Acetone mag.

It was Sammi’s turn.

Mid-Length Man sipped from his Huskee cup as Sammi stroked effortlessly into an inside runner.

Her new 9’6″ Gato supplying an ample catwalk for Sammi to traverse.

He could not be further from Sydney’s cafe hustle.

Mid-Length Man tasted notes of plum jam and grapefruit.

Listen: World’s most popular surfer Gabriel Medina reveals once-controversial, now widely-accepted, lifestyle adjustment!

Kelly Slater hates this!

It is undeniable that the world’s greatest surfer is Florida’s Kelly Slater. Also undeniable, the current most popular is Gabriel Medina, as measured by social media, dwarfing Kelly’s 2.7 million Instagram followers with 8.4 million of his own. The two-time World Surf League Championship Tour winner has it all, looks, talent, money but will a recent once-controversial admission send his legions of fans running into other arms?

Medina, as you may already know, recently came out as a vegan and while the lifestyle is widely accepted, there are also some, maybe especially Brazilians, who doubt its moral value.

Brazil, as you certainly already know, is home to churrasco.

And while it may be possible to cook mushrooms, carrots, etc. on a spit it is not traditional.

It is uncertain how Medina’s no-animal-matter diet will affect his performance nor is it certain if he meant “pescatarian” or “vegetarian-who-eats-cheese” instead of “vegan” but we all must keep a close eye on the reaction.

Especially from all the Brazilian ranchers.

David Lee Scales and I spoke about Medina’s lifestyle adjustment today along with Kelly Slater’s hatred of not only podcasts but David Lee Scales himself, the television program Silver Spoons and… Erik Logan?

Listen here.


Breaking: Man shatters glass door, steals $1232 worth of grade-a surf denim from Lompoc, California surf shop!

The return of a wonderful market!

Do you remember those halcyon days when surf denim was, like, a thing? Quiksilver, Billabong, Rip Curl, RVCA, Voclcom? Everyone was in the game, producing multiple yards of acid washed, bleach washed, stone washed cottons billowing and pillowing around thighs.

Very cool though, sadly, the drive to make jeans seemed to have dried up right when all the surf-consuming customers did.

Well, recent events in Lompoc, California signal that a rebound may be imminent as a man there broke into Surf Connection, the local surf shop, and made off with $1232 of grade-a surf denim.

According to the authorities, the theft occurred sometime around 2:00 am and the culprit, Michael Limon, was only arrested after authorities spotted him running into his nearby hotel room.

They identified his name etc. because he used it to book the very same room.

The denim was returned to the shop and now Limon must go to court etc. but off all the things to steal from a surf shop, boards, wetsuits, boards or wetsuits, the fact he stole jeans must indicate great things for that market.


Which was your favorite surf jean?

Hot Buttered?

Ocean Earth?

An almost impossible choice.