Poetry.

Days ago it was revealed, here, that Greek god and part-time Hawaiian Laird Hamilton had utterly stupefied the general public by swimming underwater whilst holding a dumbbell.  An amazing feat of strength, will, endurance and witnessed by big wave surfers Billy Kemper and Luca Padua.

What was unknown, at the time, was that two short months before, Hamilton had been foil surfing Chicama in Peru and may have just caught “the world’s longest wave.”

Footage captures Hamilton dressed in a black spring suit, holding a GoPro stick and effortlessly gliding a very wide red and yellow foil all over the steady, but not very shapely, left-hander.

I counted each and every second until I realized that this particular ride may not be “the longest in the world” as billed by much media but rather Chicama is “the longest wave in the world.”

“Laird Hamilton surfs world’s longest wave.”

Very opaque.

In any case, I was glad I watched and you are glad you watched too. Tom Brady begins his quest for another Super Bowl ring tonight with his Tampa Bay Buccaneers. His 22nd season under center.

Ageless like Kelly Slater, like Laird Hamilton.

The same as they ever were, the same as they ever will be.

How much would you imagine a broth made from the bones of Tom Brady, Kelly Slater or Laird Hamilton would go for on the open market?

Superfood.

Smoldering.

Joe Turpel has been the official voice of professional surfing ever since billionaire Dirk Ziff purchased the Association of Surfing Professionals for free in 2013, changing its name to World Surf League two years later. There he sits in the oftentimes pallet booth, skin caramelized, voice a steady flow of Mrs. Butterworth’s syrup from an e-zee pour spout.

The broadcaster is rarely given to excess. When Australia’s Mick Fanning was attacked by a shark live, on air, during a heat, for example, Turpel, even-voice’d, suggested that he “hop on the sled and reset.”

But something, of late, has overtaken the man. As you know, Turpel is now, also, the voice of The Ultimate Surfer sitting there in a pallet booth next to his female cohost and last night he pushed to the very edge of sexual propriety.

Showing a clip of Gabriel Medina, Turpel explained, slower with much more body language than necessary, “Right there? That’s a floater. A good floater lingers… briefly on the lip just like a… first kiss from a… hesitant lover,” then made long and longing eye contact with her.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CTkjIpYp7Xx/

Which lover was hesitating left unsaid.

His cohost, clearly shocked, could only choke out, “Oh… well.”

And Joe Turpel, in the year 2021 when cancellation lurks around every corner, #MeToo still guillotining ol’ dinosaurs , decided this was his moment to smolder like it was 1960.

Mad man.

We can only hope that he is allowed to bring this heat to Lower Trestles.

Thanks Mick Fanning for majorly contributing to global warming.

Strange days what with former Bachelors and Bachelorettes enticing ultimate surfers, an underground clamoring for Seth Rogen to become King of Malibu and the world’s only anti-depressive surf website taking an honest-to-goodness environmental stand but here we are, living and loving in the time of Coronavirus.

In other apocalyptic news, Hurricane Larry is bearing down on Florida and as fate would have it, San Clemente’s best surfers (save the hot, young sponsored junior and Malia Jones) are bearing down on it too.

Kolohe Andino, Griffin and Crosby Colapinto, Luke Davis and Ian Crane are currently touring the United States with their just-released film Reckless Isolation, a documentation of a surf trip to Indonesia.

Very cool but they may just get a better film chasing Larry up and down the sunshine state. Allegedly #recklessisolarry is trending on Twitter in Florida with hordes of pandemic-crazed surf fans reaching fever-adjacent levels of thrill.

Jamie O’Brien is there too.

Maybe even Ben Gravy.

But back to San Clemente’s hottest. They will be in Orlando, September 9 at The Plaza Live. September 10 drops them to New Smyrna Beach at the Atlantic Center for the Arts (buy tickets as sellouts are common), the greatest place on earth to watch a surf film and September 11 sends them to Jacksonville, find them at Surfer the Bar.

Strange days but very fun ones too.

Thanks Mick Fanning for majorly contributing to global warming.