"Sorry I said that stuff about your mama. She's a good woman."

Earlier today, the stand-up comic Bob Saget, better known, although he shouldn’t be, for his role as the Daddy in Full House, was found dead in an Orlando hotel room.

It wasn’t murder and it ain’t drugs, say the cops.

But, real sad, funny guy, and Saget, who was sixty-five, had a surfing connection, appearing in Pensacola surfer Sterling Spencer’s surf comedy Gold.

Spencer, who is thirty-six and the son of Gulf Coast legend Yancy Spencer III, became pals with Saget over social media.

“Feel like our voiceover connection brought us together,” Sterling told me today.

Saget appears around the ten-minute mark as Sterling’s shaper and lover of Sterling’s mammy, Lydia.

Unprecedented times.

The game has officially changed. In a stunning moment, a shark has attacked a foil enthusiast in Florida thus shattering the aura of invincibility surrounding Mark Zuckerberg, his best friend Kai Lenny, shaper to the stars Jon Pyzel and all those who have taken up foiling.

Hovering above the water’s surface, as if riding a magic carpet, foiling was seen as immune to the ugliness under the surface of the sea including, but not limited to, jellyfish stings, those weird fuzzy bubbles that sometimes float by and dreaded shark attacks.

All that changed, days ago, when Florida kite foiler Erika Lane became the second known foil shark attack victim. There she was south of Anna Maria City Pier in the gulf when a shark swam right up behind her, jerked her foil causing her to tumble then bit her right in the leg.

“I saw sharknado,” she told the local ABC affiliate, “like a cartoon character or Jaws coming at my face. I just didn’t know what was going on so I was screaming with my hands in front of my face, thinking I was going to get bitten or something. Then it was gone and I looked at my wing next to me and I just jumped on it like a pool raft.”

Luckily, Lane’s friends were nearby and they helped her to shore where they all wept loudly together over lost innocence. The first attack on a foiler happened in Maui but, in that case, the 35-year-old man was in the water, not upon his magic carpet, thus no different than you or me.

Florida shark experts believe the shark to be around four feet, based on the bite marks.

Foilers everywhere, from kite to electric, paddle to pump, are currently reassessing life choices.

Unprecedented times.

Difficult days.

What’s your longest unbroken run of surfs?

Carter Doorley, a ten-year-old shredder from Brigantine in New Jersey, is five hundred and ninety days into his plan to surf for one thousand consecutive days or a little short of three years straight.

Put that into perspective. 

What’s your longest unbroken run of surfs? I’d guess maybe thirty at some point, although I cannot confirm, I ain’t one for collecting milestones, but defs ten days straight on those Ments boat rides. 

I do recall moments on those long hauls that various performance barriers were trounced and, briefly, creating a modicum of style, my face no longer contorted into a grimace of fake unawareness. 

Doorley, a classic tow-headed grommet with a fine style on his various crafts, says he got into the consecutive surf thing ‘cause he had nothing else to do during a pandemic that cut a swathe through his home state, thirty k dead from almost two-mill cases. 

The kid’s mama, Dawn, keeps his dream alive.

First goal, one hundred days, then one year, now one thousand days.

“Me and Carter’s dad, we’re just so happy that he found his thing. And the ocean has always been his thing that kind of calms him and grounds him,” Dawn told News12 Bronx. “He’s so happy to be out there and we’re happy to help his passion every day.”

Doorley’s been using his fame to raise money for wronged animals (three hundred bucks raised for the Funny Farm Rescue Animal Sanctuary), bums (1100 cans of food) and five hundred towards repairing the local skate park etc.

Kid’s a legend.

Watch his little news spot here. 

When the wave is here, don't be here.

An apocalyptic swell is headed toward the Hawaiian islands, one that Surfline would describe as “the swell of the century.” Big, huge, potentially record breaking or at least tying and all during these unprecedented Covid times wherein Hawaii’s lifeguard department has been decimated by either infection or “close contact” with infection.

A perfect storm.

Yesterday, Honolulu Ocean Safety Chief John Titchen addressed the situation, telling KHON news, “Just like every employer, we do have a number of workers who are out right now because of COVID. We carefully monitor that. We have some people who come back in and leave, either for isolation or quarantine, or any other reason associated with COVID. We don’t anticipate shortages right now for the north shore and the leeward coast, and what we will do is if we end up needing to move personnel around or resources around, we will ensure we have mobile units covering these areas.”

These mobile unites cannot be all places at once, though, so the North Shore lifeguard lieutenant also implored surfers with eyes bigger than stomachs and all VALs to either not surf or paddle out at Pipeline or Waimea, telling the station, “That’s why we’re stressing for people to go to lifeguarded beaches because our mobile units are stressed with low staff. So, if you’re going to beaches that are unguarded and you get into trouble it might take us a second to get there. The best tip is to go to beaches like Pipeline, Sunset and Waimea where we have guarded towers that are staffed.”

Well?

Are you ready for either Pipeline or Waimea?

Destiny calls but, please, only paddle between 9am and 5:30pm.

Say "I love you" with five simple letters.

There was a time, not all that long ago, when you were going to do something with your surfing life. Win a contest, maybe two. Get on tour. Get sponsored. You’d wake up early in the morning, before the sun even, peddle your bike the the beach and practice all manner of cutback, closeout barrel, flyaway air then peddle home salty and improved.

One step closer to beating Damien Hardman.

Your mother was there on the porch, of course, cross because you were going to be late for school. Again. But you told her, you told her true, that you were on the way to surfing greatness. That you’d be someone someday. Greater than Gary Elkerton even.

Her ire would soften and she’d make your lunch then hustle you off, out the door, where you’d spend your day drawing a big barrel over the tennis player on your Pee-Chee folder.

Well, life took a turn. You fell in love, fell out of love, discovered alcohol, maybe drugs, went to college, got a job and that surf dream, that push toward excellence, slowly withered into a barely living salty plum.

Your mother, poor mother, now sits at home, candle lit by window, still waiting for news of your surfing victory over Ian Cairns.

Well guess what?

You can still deliver on your promise, all you need is a little help, your own personal digital fitness and health coach.

WHOOP is a great encourager. It reflects back, harshly, the soft lump you’ve become, initially, then motivates you to be better.

A little higher strain one day, more efficient sleep the next. Gentle feedback along the way. “You achieved above average strain.” “Start getting ready for bed.”

You listen, react, feel more refreshed, ready to take on new challenges and soon you are back at the beach before the sun pulling into closeouts, flying away with panache.

WHOOP doesn’t let you self-deceive, doesn’t let you take long breaks or participate in bad habits. It is there, constantly, reminding you of your pact, of the best you.

It’s only a matter of time before word arrives to your long-suffering mother that you, indeed, made your way to Huntington Beach and back paddled 1976 champion the poor man’s Ian Cairn, Peter Townend.

A lonely tear rolls down her cheek.

Her child has achieved.

Buy the dream here.