Kelly and Mick, post sharkie at J-bay and, main photo, looking across to Shippies. | Photo: Inset by WSL

Millionaire surfers Kelly Slater and Mick Fanning called on to buy and preserve 100-acre coastal parcel built on track that leads to Shipstern Bluff!

Will new owner close access to track that leads to world's most sadistic wave?

If you’ve ever walked the eight clicks into Shipstern Bluff, a wave you might correctly describe as one of the world’s great sadists, you would’ve strolled through a fine one-hundred acre property fringed by national parks and which is now listed for sale for well under one million American dollars. 

This owner of this homestead and land at 888 Stormlea Road, Tasmania, has long allowed surfers access through his piece of pristine wilderness to access a wave that is now a popular stop for slab hunters. The new owner? Who knows. 

It’s a compelling sell. 

“This is a unique opportunity to secure a parcel of land adjoining crown owned National Park on two boundaries which is home to priority vegetation, flora and fauna, this incredible parcel of land is a generational investment. With an established dwelling in site to renovate or extend to suit your own needs, the ground work has been done. Set up to be fully off-grid, the property does have mains power connection but can run sustainably on its own.

“The gardens have developed over decades and there is an established fruit tree orchard with 20 assorted varieties along with 20 mature trees with could sustain a small dried berry business.”

The joint next store has approval for an eco-resort, whatever the hell that means, green sheds and a few solar panels maybe, but have yet to turn a sod. 

“The property could be purchased by someone seeking a private lifestyle, a developer that wants to work on a tourism venture, or perhaps someone looking to preserve the environmental status of the property,” says the agent. “There is a range of potential buyers.”

Be real nice to keep it lo-fi, buy some exotic animals, build a moto track etc.

Attack Gal and comic icon Pauly Shore! | Photo: Frame grab from Encino Man

Wild scenes at LA’s El Porto beach as woman stabs surfboard of Encino Man Pauly Shore’s nephew!

“To pull a knife, that was alarming. She walked down the beach and did that premeditated, wasn’t a heat of the moment type thing."

If you’re old enough to have operated a television set in the nineties, you’ll know, and maybe have loved to death, the pint-sized Jewish actor and comic from Beverley Hills, Pauly Shore.

Encino Man, Bio-Dome, In the Army Now, Jury Duty might’ve been hit with “sharply negative” reviews and Shore did win Worst New Star of the year for Encino Man, but the people adored Shore.

If the moon was in the right quarter and the winds were blowing just the right number of miles from the east, he was untouchable.

Then Pauly’s star waned. His shtick, once edgy, grew stale.

Hollywood, always eager for the next warm body, preferably teen or younger, moved on, leaving Pauly Shore washed up alongside other nineties icons Christian Slater, Alicia Silverstone and Macaulay Culkin.

Now, a fifteen-year-old ripper from El Porto beach in LA, reportedly a nephew of Shore’s, has had his board stabbed by a woman after the pair clashed in the water, the kid filming, poorly it might be added, the exchange.

El Porto Girls will cut ya.. adult girl attacks 15 year old boy.
byu/Prestigious_Syrup636 insurfing

Prestigious Syrup 636, who posted the video, writes:

“The 15 year old is a competition level surfer. The girl lets just say is not. From what i gathered from some surfline rewind cam vid is they bumped boards as they took off right next to each other. You hear him say ‘you bailed your board’. He made the wave she didnt. I think she got a ding in her board and got out of water. There is cam footage of The kid getting out to apologize and tried to offer to get her board fixed but she didnt want to talk and was yelling at him and went to her car and got that knife or whatever it is.. i been surfing porto for over 20years never seen that chick before. That kid is good kid maybe a bit aggressive In wave count but he gets alot of waves because he good at surfing. Hes got some sponsorship and rides for jon lalaane surfboards. He’s actually the nephew or something of comedian Pauly Shore. He was way more polite then i would have been especially at 15. The cops were called but she was gone and they said there was nothing they could do. Haven’t seen girl back at porto since but we haven’t had waves there in a while Now.. being a little cunt or not shes an adult hes a kid and to pull a knife or whatever that was is alarming. She walked down the beach and did that premeditated wasn’t a heat of the moment type thing.”

You like ’em feisty? I sure do.


Unnecessary. Photo: boring surf contest
Unnecessary. Photo: boring surf contest

Revered economist deduces there are approximately 720,000 professional surfers on earth!

Too many.

David Lee Scales and I get together every single week for a lively chat, an occurrence which with, I think, you are familiar. There are no topics off limits. We banter about men who prefer to ride shotgun instead of driving, whether a shopping cart should be returned after usage, the appropriate way for a man to urinate at home and, occasionally surfing. Quickly, did you know the Germans have a word for men who prefer to sit while taking care of urinating? They do. Sitzpinkler. How good is that?

In any case, on today’s episode number 235, a revered economist emailed with a shocking bit of information. He had been trying to discern while the surf industry is failing so hard, the World Surf League selling its offices, all the big surf brands being bunched into one and sold, etc., and he deduced that there are simply too many professional surfers.

720,000 to be exact.

An astonishing number and though he did not provide his research, it stands to reason. The more I thought about his assessment, anyhow, the more I found myself agreeing. No sport or pastime on earth can survive such a crushing amount of professionals. Tennis, for example, has 3500 professionals.

Eating has 50.

Now, surfing, as a competitive profession, should not be encouraged at all. Qualifying tours, ISAs, juniors etc. all stink. They are not enjoyable to watch, nor enjoyable to participate in, I’d imagine. They take way too long, are usually held in embarrassing surf and the prize money has not increased for years.

Parents who instill competitive professional surfing dreams in their young children should be prosecuted for abuse.

Surfing as a YouTube profession should, likewise, not be encouraged. Not that all “content creators” must go away immediately, we just don’t need anymore for a very long time and inspiring young children to pursue the influencer life is equally troubling.

I figure if we can get the number of professional surfers down to a manageable 30, we’d right this ship and quickly.

Happy days here again.

What do you think?

David Lee Scales and I, anyhow, also discussed Stab doing Jack Freestone dirty. Having not watched the How Surfers Get Paid drop, I had no idea that the premium surf blog actually pulled the old using-answers-for-one-question-for-another-question-that-was-never-asked-because-of-fear trick.


You can listen and enjoy here. Share it with your children, in fact, and reduce the number of future professional surfers by however many you have.

LAIRD HAMILTON Photo: Instagram
LAIRD HAMILTON Photo: Instagram

Surf deity Laird Hamilton tickles fans by showcasing whimsical new yoga practice while sharing secret to eternal life!

"Decompression is the key to longevity."

Oh to be Laird Hamilton. Desired by every woman. Desired by every man. Desired by every machine. Did you know when I type LAIRD HAMILTON into my computer in automatically capitalizes his entire name and I have to go back and delete it then retype it it I want it in lower case? It’s true and the surf deity can, truly, do no wrong.

Which is why fans were so delighted, days ago, when the Maui Malibu local took to social media to share a whimsical new yoga play. “Decompression is the key to longevity,” he wrote underneath the video of him being held in the air by an extremely handsome other man’s feet and hands.

The beloved Instagram account @kookoftheday gently tweaked LAIRD HAMILTON over the piece of performance art only to get blasted for being “normie and cringe.”

What’s normie?

Enjoy here.

Reading those who have dipped their pen into this tired inkwell often conjures images of old men no longer able to paddle into waves, cursing me for my youth and still-intact hairline.  But, on the wrong side of 25, maybe it’s my time to enter these hallowed grounds.  | Photo: Old School

Quit-lit: Is it possible to keep surfing “on the wrong side of 25”?

Dark days for a once happy boy-man whose eyes have been opened to the horrors of being a lifelong surfer.

The Disney-ification of surfing has been written at ad nauseam: the advent of the leash, big-wave vests which suddenly enable the likes of me and my 50 closest friends to paddle out at waves far beyond our grasp, the dreaded midlength. 

Reading those who have dipped their pen into this tired inkwell often conjures images of old men no longer able to paddle into waves, cursing me for my youth and still-intact hairline. 

But, on the wrong side of 25, maybe it’s my time to enter these hallowed grounds. 

Surfline is killing surfing. 

It has been an abysmal summer in San Diego. Small, windy, and inconsistent. I’m pretty sure I’m getting scoliosis from schlepping my log down to the beach every morning. At best, maybe two swells since May. 

Still, like the junkie I am, I check the forecast religiously, multiple times throughout the day. And, to my utter amazement, I notice something. Maybe, just maybe, a swell. In fact, the first swell of fall. Nothing special, but just enough to pull the trusty shortboard off the rafters. 

Surfline sees it too. That all seeing monster. It knows. It always knows. A week out, it gives the day a modest 2-3+. Seems about right given the forecast. 

But then, an Instagram post. “First WNW Swell of Season Provides Widespread Waves to California.” A menacing blob dashes across the screen, plunging into California. 


It’s 24 hours before the swell arrives in San Diego. 4-5. Surfline posts a cam rewind of Mavericks, captioned “Swell Update: @peter_mel packed one this morning at Mavs.” A lone figure pulls into an unremarkable closeout at Mavericks. 

I check the forecast before bed just for giggles. Has the swell turned code red yet? What’s the Surfline color code for “Epic” again? 

2-3+. An unremarkable 2-3+. Exactly what the forecast calls for. Surfline pulls off the ultimate bait and switch. 

I pull up to the beach a little earlier than usual. I have to be at work early and I have a feeling there’s going to be a crowd. 

The street is full. A surfer next to me pulls on a brand-new changing poncho. It matches his out of the box suit. I can almost smell the new neoprene. 

Now, I surf a nondescript spot every morning. No camera; not even a Surfline entry. A C-grade spot that can get fun but is tucked away and crushingly mediocre. 

On any day, 5 or 6 guys, 10 max. Today, 40. 

I paddle to the outside peak, a tricky part of the reef that is seldom surfed. Two locals turn and grin at me, quietly lamenting the absurdity of a 40-person lineup. 

One of the bigger sets swings wide and I’m in position. It’s standing up on the reef. I set my rail. 

Like a gimp-styled superhero, he drops in from the heavens. Arms flailing, an unintentionally delayed bottom turn. I straighten, lest my bang rails with this intruder. He does a few ungainly pumps, straightens, and kicks out. 

And then, the pièce de résistance. He flashes me a shaka. Not a limp, ironic shaka, but a hard, twisting shaka. The kind that makes your forearm cramp. It’s not an apology. It’s an “aloha, bro.” 

You know who he is. He exists in every lineup. The surfer just competent enough to wreak havoc in a lineup. 

Jen See’s already made the connection, but it’s worth repeating. This is your fault, Surfline. You’ve created this agent of chaos. You’ve pumped him full of color-coded, easy to read, always embellished forecasts and pushed him out to sea. 

And that was fine. Even nice. A discerning beginner could piece together how to read buoys. You taught us something. You taught me something. 

But then you decide to double down. You started throwing out meaningless buzzwords to your 2.2 million followers. A post (or two) for every “swell.” Code red. First swell of the season. Hurricane X. Raising the temperature, giving the masses exactly what they wanted. 

And yes, the brands didn’t help.

They clothed him, put him on a 7’0” funboard, and told him jazz hands look cool on a wave. 

But you’re the one who put him in the water.