Kick off your shoes.

Is this Australia’s hippest beach house? Surfer-artist-minstrel Ozzie Wright lists epic off-the-grid coastal spread on AirBnb, “An intentional space to disconnect from the modern world and reconnect to your creativity!”

“A colourful beach shack perched on top of a hill, looking out to uninterrupted ocean views… A mystical meeting of beach and bush."

The Australian surfer Ozzie Wright, and musician wife Mylee, have listed for rent the holiday spread they bought for $1.5 million in 2019, a dreamy beach shack on a quarter-acre of pristine national park dirt in Broadwater, seven hours north of Sydney, one hour south of Byron.

The sale came with a DA to bulldozer the old joint (“Build your dream beach house”) but Oz and Mylee have dressed it up in Classic Ozzie style, art on the walls, painted curtain dividers ‘tween bedrooms, couches covered in wild upholstery, a guitar in a corner. 

You wouldn’t have heard of Broadwater; it’s one of those towns you burn through along the Pacific Highway on the way from Sydney to Byron. Ain’t much there, you got the Richmond river, there’s a 150-year-old sugar mil that’s closed to the public, a pretty cafe operating out of an old Catholic church, ’bout it.

The national park is the town’s jewel, ten-thousand acres of coastal heath and wetlands and eight clicks of mostly empty beach. 

And, here you’ll find Oz and Mylee’s Happy Sun House, which is, as per the listing,  “a colourful beach shack perched on top of a hill, looking out to uninterrupted ocean views… A mystical meeting of beach and bush. A cosy and rustic shack not without things we love like, luxury linen sheets and a fully equipped kitchen… A truly blissful beach shack experience. A place where the sun hits the walls in a most beautiful way. An intentional space to disconnect from the modern world and reconnect to your creativity, gently allowing nature to ground down a busy mind.”

Five hundred bucks a night, if you want in, with a fifteen percent discount if you book for a week. A cleaning cost and service fee on top of that. Think four gees or thereabouts for a week in a little slice of Australian heaven.

Book, examine here. 


Ultra-surfer Kai Lenny reveals hidden sadistic relationship between big wave mastery and his new love of road biking: “It’s learning to love the hurt. I think there’s a translation there.”

Scary.

Kai Lenny is a generational athlete. A specimen so rare that it is difficult for a mere mortal to take in and appreciate his vast talents in real time. We will need the history books to marvel, appropriately, at his feats. His big wave mastery, windsurfing, foil boarding even his dark passions like SUPping and befriending Mark Zuckerberg.

Well, he has, apparently, mastered another dark passion. Road cycling.

I see the road cyclists riding on the Pacific Coast Highway, often, dressed in brightly colored lycra rompers often marked with IPA beer brewers, taking up a full lane of traffic because it is somehow their right and, I’ll be honest, I fantasize about hitting them.

Like this.

Nothing overly violent, just a small tap.

I would not fantasize about hitting Kai Lenny, though, and he has recently opened up about his new passion in a wide-ranging interview that appears on Velo News. (Velo, of course, Italian for IPA).

He told the author:

“What’s cool about riding here is that, in surfing when you’re put into a position on big waves, you’re committed to the situation you’re in, there’s no time out. I think it’s good mental practice when you’re climbing up the mountain here, you’re not going to stop… It’s learning to love the hurt. I think there’s a translation there — it’s key to have endurance when you’re surfing all day.”

Sadistic. Kai Lenny harbors sadistic thoughts, no?

Later, in the same article I read:

“I wanted to ride on every single island and foil between them. It was logistically kind of a nightmare and expensive. The reality is, I’ve really only ridden on Maui. I’ve ridden a little in other places but not with an intention. I have friends on other islands who have road bikes, so I thought it would be cool to link with them and connect the communities in between. It’s a long way, close to five hundred miles. The total between ocean legs and miles on the bike is 460 miles total, so we had nicknamed it the Hawaii 500. As soon as you landed on the beach, you’d have to get on the bike. No relaxing. Either always pedaling or always pumping. Pedal to pump. Pray for the downhills or a big swell. The joke was we’d all need wheelchairs on the way home.”

I’ver seriously never even imagined anything so horrifying.

Learn more here, if you dare.


Blood Feud between World Surf League and master surfboard shaper Matt Biolos intensifies after WSL’s repost of Ultimate Surfer contestant video, “They pulled back. Rescinded. Cancelled. They needed someone like me to show them how it was not a very good idea.”

Tables turned etc!

Less than one month ago, and with very little coaxing, surfboard shaper Matt Biolos unleashed on the WSL after the billionaire-owned sports league threatened legal action and the possible deleting of his personal IG account for reposting a photo of Carissa Moore. 

“If you’re incapable of breaking even without extorting your fans then you should be in the business,” Biolos, whose surfboards are, or were, ridden by world champs Carissa Moore and Tyler Wright, as well as Griffin Colapinto, Kolohe Andino, Yago Dora and Caroline Marks, posted in response. 

When BeachGrit called, Biolos said, 

“I have long-term friends working in the organization… But it doesn’t mean I’ll bow down to the barely-surfing- outsider-corporate-executives who invaded our culture and don’t really understand it but are willing to alienate the core followers and lifers who the precarious stack of cards is built upon so they can chase Main Street dreams. They are scared to death to charge pay-per view on the events because they damn well know that a lot of the public with tell them to fuck off. The viewership will tank to the point that sponsors will run for the hills. So what do they do? That come up with some scheme to come after us, the fabric of surfing’s existence, all us independently owned and operated surfboard builders who supply boards to the athletes.”

Now, a switcharoo after the WSL posted a video of Lost team rider Luke Davis, footage owned by Biolos. 

The WSL-supplied caption, a masterpiece of short-form prose. “When the barrel provides a head rinse, it’s on you to provide the shampoo.”

“I bought all this footage from Luke. Should I send you guys an invoice?” wrote Biolos, the mood of his coup de grâce emphasised with a laughing emoji.

Before being removed, the video had been viewed 137,000 times.

Users of Instagram were quick to side with the World War II enthusiast, whose surfboard models include the V2, named after the world’s first long-range guided ballistic missile that was hoped to be game-changer for the Third Reich, and who recently debuted his new cool-mom-that-will-let-everyone-drink-at-the-house-as-long-as-no-one’s-driving look, on Stab magazine.

“Solid,” wrote one.

“That was a little joke on my side,” Biolos told BeachGrit. “They pulled back. Rescinded. They cancelled the whole program (charging board builders a fee to repost content). Pretty smart on their part. They just needed someone like me to show them how it was not a very good idea. We’ve all had bad ideas.” 


The shadows draw long on Kelly Slater.

Just in: Surfing legend Kelly Slater signals potential troubling shift in social media tactics to his nearly 3 million Instagram followers!

Rats.

Any student of the professional surfing game knows that surfing legend Kelly Slater’s Instagram feed is the most entertaining space of all. Better than Rottnest Island, better than unboxing with Koa Smith, better than Zeke Lau as Ultimate Surfer.

The 11x World Champion dishes out a sometimes daily, sometimes weekly, helping of unfiltered opinion, advice, criticism, direction on issues as wide ranging as Britain’s royal family, Elon Musk’s cryptocurrency strategy and the silliness of those who believe the earth is flat amongst many, many other things.

Wonderful.

But his nearly 3 million Instagram followers were treated to a shock this morning when Slater cryptically, and without elaboration, posted the cover of Mark Meadows’ book titled How to Build Self-Discipline: Resist Temptations and Reach your Long-Term Goals.

Meadows writes of the book:

Although I’ve been a self-disciplined person ever since I can remember (thank you, Mom!), I always seek more information and advice about making myself more effective at resisting temptations.

Self-discipline is the key that will help you make these hard decisions instead of sticking with what’s easy and comfortable. People who focus on instant gratification – things that are safe, easy and comfortable – rarely reach their long-term goals.

I have no doubt there’s nothing more important to a successful life than to maintain a high level of self-discipline and keep growing on a daily basis. Hence, I wrote this book.

Most of the advice shared in this book is based on scientific research referenced at the end of the book. To help you get the most out of the book in the shortest time possible, I decided not to go into details about each study. Instead of sharing with you the detailed “why,” (with confusing and boring descriptions of studies) I will share with you the “how.”

How do you exactly build self-discipline in your life? How do you resist short-term rewards in order to reach your long-term goals? This book is the answer to these questions.

Is this going to alter Slater’s approach to social media?

It certainly would appear so.

Rats.


Watch, The Derek Hynd masterpiece, Pro Land: “Compare it to the heavy-handed narratives pumped out by the multimillion-dollar WSL ‘media house.’ By manufacturing drama, the WSL is robbing itself of the very magic it wants to create!”

As a psychological drama, surfing as storytelling, Pro Land is still engrossing, more than twenty years later. 

Derek Hynd’s movie Pro Land  follows the infamous 1999 world tour battle fought between, primarily, Danny Wills, Mick Campbell and Kelly Slater. 

You remember the story.

Baby-faced Danny and fiery Mick as tour frontrunners, seemingly destined to bring a world title back to Australia. Only for Slater to swoop in on finals day at Pipe and take crown number six.

One of the closer, grittier championship runs of the modern era. All documented by Hynd on a handheld camera, well before the days of webcast. The independently produced documentary was uploaded to YouTube a couple of years back with Hynd’s blessing.

Pro Land wasn’t the first behind-the-scenes look at the tour grind. Nor was it necessarily the best (see: Scream in Blue). Watching through a contemporary lense the surfing has dated.

The production quality is poor. There’s cringey, borderline voyueristic T&A smattered throughout.

But as a psychological drama, surfing as storytelling, Pro Land is still top notch. Engrossing, more than twenty years later. 

The narrative is simple.

Follow the top five surfers (Danny, Mick, Kelly, Beschen, and Occ) as they progress through the tour. Stick a camera in their face at opportune times. Document the story however it plays out. 

The film opens in Japan, after the Australian leg, and is a slow burn at first. There’s scrappy surfing in meagre waves. A reminder of the bad old days of world tour conditions. Short interviews with key players. An updated scorecard at the end of every contest. Otherwise, very little exposition. More Sarge’s Surfing Scrapbook than Scream in Blue. 

But form soon emerges.

As we move from comp to comp, Hynd the auteur begins to inject himself, and the storyline unfurls.

Just as Erik Logan and Pat O’Connell identified some twenty years later, it’s in the top five where the bone’s marrow lies. What a spread of characters Hynd had to work with. 

The re-emergent Occy, warming up for his eventual title run the year following. His small-wave game in particular is still incredible to watch. 

Slater, evergreen, at one of his many peaks. 

Beschen, the sage cynic, in whom Hynd surely sees the most of himself. Incredibly precise surfing, to the point of austerity (see: economy of movement). But also honest, cutting commentary both on his own performance and that of his competitors.  

Willsy and Campbo, the best friends. The heart and soul of the story. Two ocker Aussies, LMB tragics, ready to take back the crown for Australia. Just stinging for a fight, whether with each other or any other cunt willing.

As Hynd continues with his peppering of the subjects as they move from J-Bay, to Europe, to the US, to Brazil, nuggets of insight emerge. The interplay between best mates Wills and Campbell is absorbing. Willsy, the inordinately blessed talent that struggles with the number one target on his back. Campbell, the competitive animal who delights as the underdog. 

Then there’s Slater, the tritagonist, emerging from the shadows like some Dionysian villain to steal the show in the final act. 

This was DIY Reality TV. But it was raw. Honest. The human condition played out on a tinny VHS screen. 

Or at least it felt like it when viewed after a couple of Saturday afternoon tins.

The late David Forster Wallace said world-class athletes are profundity in motion: “To be a top athlete, performing, is to be that exquisite hybrid of animal and angel that we average unbeautiful watchers have such a hard time seeing in ourselves. So we want to know them. We want to get intimate with that profundity. We want to get inside them. We want the Story.”

So it goes with any type of sports journalism. Hynd got the Story. It ain’t hard.

That a lone operator with nothing more than a handycam and a nose for drama can create a compelling documentary shouldn’t be surprising. 

Pro Land treats its subject matter with the respect, earnestness, and subtle piss-take it deserves. It understands the product for what it is, and doesn’t try to make it anything more. 

Competitive surfing is like war. Long periods of boredom punctuated by short periods of excitement. It’s never going to be mainstream viewing, because it isn’t a mainstream product, no matter how you try to package it. It requires investment from both the audience and the director. 

But the hard work will pay off if you’re patient enough. Give ‘em enough rope and they’ll hang themselves, as the saying goes.

Pro Land takes us behind the veil.

It’s in the top five where the bone’s marrow lies, sure. But it doesn’t mean you should chuck away the rest. Just look at ‘99. The world title was decided on finals day, but we also got to see tour veteran Jake Paterson beat wildcard Bruce Irons in one of the most nail biting finals in Pipe’s history.

There’s storylines everywhere, if you let them breathe. 

Compare it then to the overproduced, heavy handed narratives constantly being pumped out by the multimillion-dollar WSL ‘media house.’ Top Five. Ultimate Surfer. By artificially manufacturing drama, the WSL is robbing itself of the very magic it wants to create.

Disrespecting and disservicing the sport it is so desperately trying to monetise. 

Any fool with a handycam can see it. 

But hey, maybe Trestles will prove me wrong.