Duke (pictured) left.

Hawaiian heartthrob Jason Momoa to play legendary “Father of Modern Surfing” Duke Kahanamoku in upcoming, highly anticipated biopic!

Hardened surf fans rejoice.

What are we, hardened surf fans, going to think about once the World Surf League’s 2022 season wraps in a matter of weeks? John John Florence’s knee? Gabriel Medina’s internal garden? Filipe Toledo’s gallbladder? Did you know the Chinese consider the pear-shaped organ to be the determiner of courage?

Intriguing.

But none will soak up as much time as it should leaving us idle and depressed.

Thankfully, Hawaiian heartthrob has just been announced to star as the Duke Kahanamoku in an upcoming biopic. You, of course, know at least some part of the “Father of Surfing’s” story. How he broke records and won gold medals as an Olympic swimmer, surfed around the world, was Honolulu sheriff for almost thirty years, etc.

Well, according to Variety:

Trademark rights to Kahanamoku’s name have been the subject of long-running legal disputes with members of his extended family and various business ventures. Momoa, (producer Peter) Safran and the (producers Susan and Eric) Carlsons are working with Don Love, the California investor who runs the Malama Pono Ltd. venture that has managed IP rights to Kahanamoku’s legacy since 1999.

“Duke’s story is one that has fascinated me for years,” Safran told Variety. “To now have the opportunity to tell it with the respect that it deserves, in collaboration with Jason, Chris and the Carlsons, is truly a gift.”

Added Eric Carlson, “We are all proud to be working with Malama Pono to tell the incredible true story of Duke Kahanamoku, one of America’s most overlooked heroes.”

The untitled film will “explore this iconic and gentle man as the legendary swimmer, trailblazer and the undisputed father of modern-day surfing,” according to producers. “Duke lived a life of compassion and inclusion as he embraced the true meaning of ‘Aloha.’”

Safran’s other credits include “Suicide Squad” and “Peacemaker.”

Wonderful.

Hopefully an hour thirty, at least, we can enjoy something.


A still from the excellent tranny movie Tangerine.

Critics of transgender women in sport silent as surfing’s first trans-competitor Sasha Jane Lowerson spectacularly fails in bid to win Australian title, “The press love to chant about how it’s only unfair when trans-athletes win!”

"I just finished fourth in the Australian titles and nothing but the sound of crickets!"

Only one month ago, it appeared surfing’s first transsexual competitor Sasha Jane Lowerson was on an unstoppable roll, adding yet another trophy to a mantlepiece already groaning with trophies.

Two months after her commanding win at the Western Australian longboard titles in May, Lowerson surfed with a remarkable grace to win the 23rd Lavan Whalebone Longboard Classic at Perth’s Cottesloe Beach.

Sasha Jane Lowerson, a forty-four-year-old Fly-In-Flight-Out worker in Australia’s lucrative mining biz, was one of Australia’s leading male longboarders, even winning the men’s longboard div as Ryan Egan, before transitioning a couple of years ago and joining the women’s side of the draw.

“Trans-girls aren’t going to take over the world, we just want to be included, we’re humans too,” Lowerson said. “I’ve been hiding in this male shell up… for 42 years. To still be made to be that guy that I’m not, it’s shattering,”

Surfing’s reactionary core was laid bare when Momentum Generation funnyman and Kelly Slater bandmate Peter King waded into the trans-athlete improblio saying,

“Stay out of women’s sports where you miraculously win after being an average performing man. Women’s sports is not a backup plan where you can’t win a trophy (And $) in the men’s division. Leagues like WSL and sponsors like Red Bull will you now stand up to this now instead of harming women’s sports?”

Kelly Slater added, “Make a trans division and we don’t have this confusion.”

Now, following her failure to win the Australian longboard title, which just wrapped up in the holiday hamlet of Port Macquarie, Lowerson says the media has been conspicuously silent.

“It’s pretty amazing the message that you guys the media send to us all!” Lowerson wrote in an Instagram DM. “I just finished fourth in the Australian titles and nothing but the sound of crickets! Listen, I am happy that there isn’t disgusting skewed opinions being published about my inclusion. However, I’m sure as two well-educated men that you two are, both of you can surely see the irony of what I’m pointing out right now! The press love to chant about how it’s only unfair when we (trans-athletes) win!

“On a second note, have you ever asked yourself why the anti-trans agenda argument isn’t using data of a trans-woman that has endured a set time and set level of Hormone Replacement Therapy?

“The answer is obvious! Instead they insisted on using data of a CIS male versus a CIS female! The comparison is totally irrelevant! The irrelevance is that obvious because you would get the exact same comparison/result from comparing the data of CIS males versus CIS females as you would comparing the data of CIS males versus trans-females.”

Lowerson added she was made welcome by all the other gals in the event.

“(They) celebrated my inclusion as they are my peers and they also train hard and put the time in the water that is necessary to surf at that level to win a title. Also, they would never use the inclusion of a trans-athlete as an excuse for their own inabilities to perform well in an event.”

All very good points.

Now, again, and more importantly, and since we couldn’t agree last time, what are your favourite tranny movies?

Mine are Boy Meets Girl and Tangerine, the trailers of both you can examine below, as well as various scenes on adult channels.

Bust out the tissues. And not just for the tears.


Slater (pictured) gold.

World Surf League throws accidental shade on South African surfer Jordy Smith, posts video of seemingly epic Teahupoo barrel with surf great Kelly Slater critically shattering Wall of Positive Noise in background!

Truth Social.

Memories, ahhhhh memories. Teahupo’o 2022 locked into the record books with only a cloud of recollections and confusion about how to appropriately mispronounce that place at the end of the road. As already discussed, we were treated to very memorable moments courtesy of Nathan “Hog” Hedge, Filipe “Brrr” Toledo, the greatest surfer of all-time Kelly Slater both in victory, defeat and sitting in channel providing realtime commentary that would cause heart attacks amongst top World Surf League brass.

Here, in a clip maybe accidentally posted to the WSL’s robust Instagram account, tour mainstay Jordy Smith can be seen hucking into a proper bomb. Slater, on boat, responds by hooting loudly then adding, “He’s not very deep though.”

Now it is clear that the WSL social team, maybe consisting of CEO Erik Logan and Head of Tours Jessi Miley-Dyer, did not hear Slater’s aside but imagine with me for just one moment.

Imagine that this sort of honesty, truth, critical eye was allowed into the World Surf League booth even for a few heats an event.

Fans of professional surfing, at home, are certainly craving this sort of gimlet eye and, maybe, dreaming that Slater will enter the booth once his competitive days are over or possibly even before his competitive days are over.

A commentator-surfer much like Pete Rose was once a player-manager.

Charlie Hustle.


Robinson (pictured) roaring.

Question: Will the World Surf League break apart under weight of sheer rage when li’l lion Filipe Toledo beats Jack Robinson at 2 – 3 ft Trestles to be crowned 2022 world champion?

Deep thoughts.

The Outerknown Tahiti Pro is now, officially, in the rearview mirror and what a show, at the end. Young wildcards wowed, elders shined, an unlikely champion, but wonderful, was crowned. And now we have, cemented, our final five who will fly from Teahupo’o to Southern California’s timid shore to compete for the entire season’s jewel, best surfer in the world, 2022.

When the World Surf League envisioned this final day, winner take all, and rolled it out for the first time last season, it was an attempt to reprise the excitement of the 2019’s showdown between number one and number two Italo Ferreira and Gabriel Medina at very fine Pipeline.

Chicken skin.

But this year, the oft used WSL-ism may have a different meaning. As you know, current world number one Filipe Toledo put on a very memorable performance at Teahupo’o’s day of days. Memorable in that he bravely refused to paddle while two geriatrics swapped absolute bombs underneath his priority.

As you also know, current world number two Jack Robinson put on memorable performance too, weaving through the blue maw, sliding vertically down, though less memorable because conquering beasts is part of his repertoire.

Now, at Trestles, the two may come up against each other, assuming Robinson gets through his penultimate heat. There they will bob in 2 – 3 foot surf, swapping snaps and air reverses, the world’s best small wave surfer Filipe Toledo a heavy favorite but, herein, lies a problem.

The King of Saquarema’s Cho-e-hu-p’o’o act will be all too fresh in the spectator’s mind and will he or she be able to accept him as master, carried high above the cobbled stones on Brazilian shoulders, or will the sheer weight of rage break the World Surf League apart?

Banners hastily spray painted “NOT MY CHAMPION!”

“#STOPTHESTEAL”

“ROBBO’D”

What do you think about that?

The best case scenario, likely, for the League is that someone other than Toledo wins at Trestles, even though that is very harsh. The Brazilian flyboy put together an incredible season save one glaring moment of cowardice.

The problem, I suppose, is that surf fans place courage high on the list of desirable traits, maybe even equal to skill.

Many years ago, I bobbed in a boat in Te-ay-cho-p’u’u’s channel with Robinson, Leo Fioravanti and Kanoa Igarashi. It was not a big day but those around claimed at that size it was more terrifying than extra large because it broke directly upon the reef or something. Robinson and Firoravanti were right into it, hooting and laughing. Igarashi got out of the boat slow, paddled to the shoulder, paddled back without catching a wave. The team manager, also aboard, told him he had to go back and charge. The young boy did want to, did not want to at all, but did paddle back and try.

Many years later, Igarashi has found his heart and is unafraid of the big and though many don’t like his claims or his chains, his courage is not questioned and, thus, neither would a crown if he were to win instead of Toledo or Robinson at Trestles. Ethan Ewing charges and Italo Ferreira does too.

The question at the end, I suppose, can a champion, our champion, be a shrinking violet?


Little-known Brazilian Miguel Pupo stuns world at Outerknown Tahiti Pro with “sheer wizardry… as good as anyone could have surfed!”

When we think of the Brazilian Storm, no-one mentions Miguel Pupo.

The eternal problem with good waves is that they must die.

Casual surfers can mourn the end of a run of swell but look forward to the next. It’s just part of the staccato rhythm of life.

For competitors there’s no next time. Each day you paddle into a different arena. Often in surf competitions, we face finals that have little relevance to all that has preceded them.

Finals Day at Teahupoo did build momentum towards a climactic ending and worthy final, but the beginning felt a little flat.

The canvas for the heroic artists of yesterday was gone. Good waves still appeared, but they were of a different nature. Today was about positioning, not pluckiness.

And so heroes fell in the quarters.

Matt McGilivray was convincingly vanquished by Kauli Vaast.

Nathan Hedge looked like he might have retained the flow of yesterday when he opened with an 8.83, but then couldn’t find a 2.17 to overcome Ibelli, despite having thirty minutes to do so.

“Those couple of millimetres and moments went my way yesterday,” Hedge said in his post-heat interview, referencing a couple of waves he never made that would unquestionably have sealed victory.

I disagreed.

Yesterday was not about millimetres or moments for Hedge, it was about sheer force of will and experience.

Where does he go from here, I wondered? It seems a strange question to be asking of a man of forty-three, and I certainly don’t expect him in more CT comps, but I do wonder how you come down.

Slater was fortunate to overcome Yago Dora. Needing a seven-something in the dying minutes he found a wave that looked solid, but had commentators humming and hawing about whether it was enough. It came in well above the requirement at 8.10, and the event sponsor progressed.

Miguel Pupo defeated Kanoa convincingly, but not yet with the panache that would eventually lead him to overall victory.

While the swell continued to lull and ebb, some women’s heats were run.

When we came back, it was to the unlikely spectacle of local wildcard, twenty-year-old Kauli Vaast, decimating Kelly Slater in a manner that might never have been done before.

Much was made of this in comment sections, claims that Slater choked etc. This was absolutely not the case. What did transpire was Vaast racking up rapid fire scores for threading tubes on the inside ledge, whilst Slater waited for bigger outside waves that just weren’t there.

You might put it down to a tactical error, a mis-read of conditions, but really Slater was probably resigned to the fact that the swell was dying and with it his chances of winning. I’m sure he sat outside hoping to will the waves that might allow him to work his magic.

In the end he only caught one wave for a 1.17, simply so he didn’t end the heat on zero, which he admitted later he had considered.

Vaast, by contrast, had five solid scores on the way to a 17.33 total.

Noteworthy was his switch-stance barrel, a skill we’d seen him foreshadow yesterday. The judges didn’t really buy it or award the supreme difficulty, causing much consternation among pundits and fans.

“I do believe the future is utilising both directions,” said Pete Mel later.

In the comment section, Matt Warshaw took a more artistic view. “That’s the most Slater thing I’ve ever seen,” he noted.

In the second semi, Miguel Pupo caught fire.

You’d never know it looking at his 13.50 final heat total, but in reality he weaved tube after tube on the inside, negotiating foamballs and falling sections here, planting arms in the face to control his speed there. It was sheer wizardry, and as good as anyone could have surfed the waves on offer.

For some reason, the judges appeared to be waiting for something more. In my view, Miguel’s high sixes were more like eights. His mastery of the conditions was absolutely on a par with Vaast in the preceding heat.

The flow for both Vaast and Pupo carried over into a highly entertaining final match-up, blessed with solid waves.

The two men were unquestionably the best surfers on this day, as evidenced by their trading of technical barrel riding in the final.

There was vociferous support from the channel for both men. The local boy enjoyed a partisan crowd, of course, but Miggy Pupo seems an enduringly popular figure among fellow professionals, none more so than his brother, Sammy, who was overjoyed to witness his big brother’s first final in ten years at the culmination of his own wildly successful rookie season.

In the end, it was Pupo’s day. He had tapped into a rare rhythm that you might recognise from your own good sessions, in your own meagre context, of course. It’s also something you can spot if you watch enough pro surfing.

It finally came together for Miguel Pupo, and ardent fans of professional surfing should celebrate that.

He’s been on and off Tour since 2011. Not only had he not won a competition until today, but his only previous semi-final appearances were Snapper in 2015 and Pipe this year. That’s scant encouragement to keep plugging away at a professional surf career. Especially in the face of more heralded countrymen.

When we think of the Brazilian Storm, no-one mentions Miguel Pupo.

He’s of a different mould, of course. He’s less likely to explode above the lip with waving arms and more inclined to keep his rails set and arms low. His is an aesthetic that the purists can admire, a blend of fundamentals and style.

He harnessed a flow state today, catching endless waves and seeming to make everything he went for, even hunting them down under priority. It was a masterclass in tuberiding, physical fitness, and flow. A relentless flurry that rendered Ibelli catatonic and pushed Vaast harder than anyone else had.

And although the majority of today was just slightly overhead, not perhaps the Teahupoo we revere, he can wrangle the heavy ones as well as anyone. He did it yesterday. He did it at Pipe to kick off the year.

Pupo, if you’ll believe it, is only thirty. On evidence of Hedge and Slater, he could be contending for comps in hollow waves for a decade or more to come.

How dogged are you?

It’s a quality that can’t but be admired. The ability to stick to a task or goal until you achieve success, to keep getting back up, keep battling against all adversity.

I consider this to be one of my short-term strengths yet long-term flaws.

I’m prone to reverie. Always have been. I love things intensely then let them go. My life is filled with washed-out ghosts of things I once adored. Like an egg collection. Some I should’ve loved more, some far less.

Amidst these flaccid husks I wander, searching for the next thing to love fiercely.

It’s an autistic-type tendency that would almost certainly have been diagnosed if I were born a decade or two later. I’ve got my coping strategies, destructive as they may be, and I cope.

I cope.

In many ways I don’t want to change. I feel waves of ecstasy in moments you might never imagine, in situations I least expect. Paradise lost then found.

What would I be if not for chasing these feelings?

But I’m always searching for a higher high. My mind never rests. I’ve a tendency to quit things with a melodramatic flourish.

The ability to focus on what you perceive to be your one true purpose is to be revered. I reserve deep admiration for those who can find contentment, and eventual success, in simply chipping away.

As you progress through life, you might begin to realise that it’s steadiness that brings reward.

We could all do a lot worse than being a little more like Miguel Pupo or Nathan Hedge.