Hawaiian (left) upending conventional wisdom (right) with bountiful island snow (bottom right).
Hawaiian (left) upending conventional wisdom (right) with bountiful island snow (bottom right).

Climate change science thrown on head as surf-blessed Hawaii receives more snow than New York, Boston combined!

"Hey everyone! I'm currently visiting the islands, and I've noticed an abundance of ridiculously lifted pickup trucks."

It times back, the weather was a solidly safe holiday dinnertime conversation. Unlike politics or religion, the sun shining, or not, clouds raining, or not was a simple matter of observance. Easy. Clean. No longer. Any mention of the elements, these days, will ignite the table into full civil war. Daughter yelling at mother that the government is seeding the skies with chemicals. Son yelling at uncle to shut his gross polluting mouth.

Very uncomfortable.

The two broad camps, of course, are those who believe man is changing the environment through his consumption of fossil fuels and those who believe earth gonna earth and our smoking cigarettes etc. doesn’t make a dent.

The polite society thing to profess is, of course, the former except new details from Hawaii are baffling the most ardent climate change activists.

Hawaii, currently, has more snow than Boston and New York combined.

Per Newsweek:

Meteorologists described Hawaii as a “winter wonderland” earlier this season after a late November snowstorm dumped approximately half a foot of snow at the Mauna Kea Weather Center on Hawaii Island. The weather center is based on the Mauna Kea volcano. The peaks at Mauna Loa also saw snowfall. Meanwhile, Boston has only received a fraction of its average snowfall, with .2 inches falling on December 6. Snow has yet to fall this season in New York City.

While this should prop up theories that mans’ gas guzzling has irrevocably altered “normal,” Hawaii is home to this:

Peak gas guzzle.

Lifted V-6s and V-8s are a national treasure on the archipelago, praised and honored. A plume of holy smoke puff puff puffing out of polished exhaust pipes.

Glorious things but back to the snow issue, what to make of it?

This is the sort of vehicle popular in bone dry New York:

How to square with current theories?

Certainly more questions than answers.

Fast Eddie Rothman
"We kept it a lot safer. Send 'em in… what's the big deal. We used to that from V-land all the way down the coast," says Fast Eddie.

Hawaiian strongman Fast Eddie Rothman delivers home truths on gentrification of hallowed North Shore

"There's no consequences because it's so diluted. The local people don't have that…clout… that they had before."

The North Shore strongman Fast Eddie Rothman, daddy to big-wave world champ and ukulele prodigy Makua and almond-eyed vlogger Koa, needs very little introduction.

Although if you did swing into the sport late, and who didn’t I suppose, the following story, from the old Chas Smith book Welcome to Paradise, Now Go to Hell, where Fast Eddie slaps everyone at the Billabong House might be instructive.

He had left his compound at Backyards, a famously localized surf spot, after the sun set and drove south on O’opuola street before turning east on the Kamehameha highway, gripping his steering wheel with scarred knuckles.

He passed Ted’s Bakery, known for its plate lunches, its cream pies, and its impossibly slow service. He passed the only Chevron for miles, run by a family of transgendered Samoans who flirt freely when handing over packs of cigarettes or change. They are each over six feet tall, two hundred pounds, with the daintiest touches of eye shadow and blush.

He passed the rotting fruit stand selling fresh passion fruit and pineapple, Ehukai Beach Park and its just erected “Billabong Presents the Pipe Masters in Memory of Andy Irons” scaffolding, set up for the contest that would run the next day.

He passed sunset Beach Elementary school and then he abruptly turned right, without signaling, onto Ke Nui Road.Ke Nui is the size of a small alley and runs parallel to the Kamehameha for a rough mile. Banyans and palms hover over it like a frescoed ceiling.

There are no streetlights. Night can feel thick on Ke Nui. Dense. Eddie drove over the speed bumps without slowing and then slammed to a stop at its end. Directly in front of the Billabong house.

He got out of his car, went through the wooden gate and up the rock stairs and straight inside without ringing the doorbell and without the customary removal of slippahs.

Inside the house he paused briefly, glancing around, before walking up to Graham Stapelberg and fixing him in his dull gaze. Looking through him. Before reaching a scarred knuckled hand through time and space and grabbing his throat. The surfers and executives, those who had not yet left for Surfer Poll, froze. The horror. This horror.

And Eddie reached his other hand back, back, back, and then, as if it was a slingshot, launched it forward. It smashed into Graham’s cheek with a painful thud. Eddie kept slapping him and then dumped him in a pile and went on a tear through the house.

I have very fond memories of being welcomed into the Rothman compound on one of my early forays to the North Shore, meeting little Makua and baby Koa, and being granted an audience with Fast Eddie himself, of whom I wrote many complimentary things.

And deservedly so.

Anyway, during the Vans broadcast, Fast Eddie lit up with his classically ominous humour when it came to regulating, as they like to say over there.

After saying there was no way in hell the Backdoor Shootout would’ve run in those conditions (“We want it big, we want it gnarly, we want it Pipe,” said Fast Eddie) he described Pipeline in 2023 as a “shitshow.”

“There’s two hundred people out there sometimes. (Mimicking foreign accent) ‘I’m at the Pipelinnee, I love the Pipelinnee.’ You don’t even know what the bottom looks like. You’re gonna surf it, I’m here I’m gonna charge it. The respect for the local people has gone. You don’t come to other countries like, say, Brazil, paddle out at their break and start catching all their waves. You’ll get your ass beat. But over here it’s changed now. There’s no consequences because it’s so diluted. The local people don’t have that…clout… that they had before.”

Fast Eddie added, “We kept it a lot safer. Send ’em in… what’s the big deal. We used to that from V-land all the way down the coast.”

“Community regulation is a good thing,” said Makua.


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Nicolas Cage (pictured) grumpy and traditional.
Nicolas Cage (pictured) grumpy and traditional.

Ultimate grumpy traditionalist Nicolas Cage film “The Surfer” officially wraps!

"Surfing has always been about Bustin’ Down the Door — always about experimentation, leadership, individuality and innovation..."

I’ve been thinking about Dirk Ziff’s wife Natasha, this morning. Not in any sort of bad way, or even uncomfortable, just remembering when the co-Waterperson of the Year said, “Surfing has always been about Bustin’ Down the Door — always about experimentation, leadership, individuality and innovation, both in athletic progression and culturally. And this is how we want to be, and will always strive to be, at the WSL: innovative and always pushing forward. The surfers, past and present and future, are our guides — the surfing greats have never been grumpy traditionalists, but tough innovators.”

Remember that? It was five years ago, now, so you’d be forgiven for forgetting but I ponder that last “the surfing greats have never been grumpy traditionalists, but tough innovators” often.

Is that actually true?

Well, while you’re thinking, according to Variety, filming has wrapped on The Surfer, a Nicolas Cage vehicle shot entirely in Yallingup. The picture tells the story of:

When a man returns to Australia to buy back his family home after many years in the U.S., he is humiliated in front of his teenage son by a group of local surfers who claim ownership over the secluded beach of his childhood. Wounded, he defies them and remains at the beach, demanding acceptance. As the conflict escalates he is brought to the edge of his sanity and his identity is thrown into question.

Back to Ziff’s axiom, Cage seems like a grumpy traditionalist. The group of local surfers certainly seem like grumpy traditionalists. The whole movie, in fact, appears to revolve around the very idea of grumpy traditionalism. They all sort of seem sort of great too, in their own way.

Was she wrong?

More as the story develops.

Eimeo Czermak, almost crippled at Pipeline
"I came so close to losing everything but I’m alive and gonna be able to walk again hopefully soon…"

Teahupoo kingpin Eimeo Czermak gravely injured at Pipeline

"Hopefully I can walk again soon."

Ain’t it just one of the wildest quirks of surfing that Tahitian-born Eimeo Czermak would be an unbackable favourite against the reigning and two-time world champ Filipe Toledo if they ever surfed against each other at Teahupoo? Or legit Pipe?

Eimeo Czermak, who is twenty, has been throwing wild edits since 2018 since he was fifteen and putting himself inside the sorta west bowls that make better credentialed surfers tremble right down to the bones.

Now, it can be revealed, only days after world number four João Chianca was dragged unconscious from the water Pipe, Eimeo Czermak was hospitalised following a wipeout during his heat with the three Florence bros at the Vans Pipe Masters.

“This was probably one of the hardest and scariest moment of my life,” the carrot-topped heartthrob told his fans on Instagram.

“In the second slide there’s a little video of what happened and the crazy part is I don’t even remember anything of this…💔 I don’t know if I can even talk about what happened after I left the contest so I’m gonna keep it to myself but I’m so happy and grateful to be alive and looking forward to heal.

“I am really disappointed in myself for what I’ve showed in this contest, it’s really hard for me to accept but it is what it is and at the end of the day I came so close to losing everything but I’m alive and gonna be able to walk again hopefully soon so that’s what matters.

“The next few days are gonna be really hard for me so I think I’m gonna take a break from social media and work on my health.”

In the video, Eimeo Czermak is pitched head first, driven to shore by the water patrol where we find him retching on the beach.

As a testament to his brilliance in terrifying waves, a conga line of surf stars were quick to send their wishes for a swift recovery. Doz, Kai Lenny, Ian Walsh, Cory Lopez, Barron Mamiya… even North Shore strongman and daddy to Koa Rothman, Fast Eddie.

U a warrior and you will be back soon. Love u boy

Felicity Palmateer (pictured) charging.
Felicity Palmateer (pictured) charging.

Big wave surf legend accidentally shares training details so deadly her coached begged her to keep them secret

"I’m wary of giving people ideas where they can hurt themselves.”

I never thought I’d see a day wherein the Pipe Masters was “less than” but here we are, living in the wake of the World Surf League and its horrible decision-making. Thankfully, the “global home of surfing” has never, and will never, lay a finger on The Eddie Aikau Big Wave Invitational. Waimea’s iconic event honoring the surf and lifesaving legend Eddie Aikau has only run ten times since 1984, last won by local lifeguard Luke Shepardson.

To become invited to The Eddie is a great honor in and of itself, one that Felicity Palmateer certainly deserves. The 31-year-old who hails from Western Australia has made her indelible mark on the scene, having ridden the biggest wave ever for a female at Cow Bombie and more.

But how does she prepare to conquer the Bay?


Talking to The Sydney Morning Herald, Palmateer stated, “My trainer has warned me not to talk about it too much in depth because if you don’t do it properly it can get really dangerous. We’re talking shallow-water blackouts and it can develop into a life-threatening situation really quickly, so I’m wary of giving people ideas where they can hurt themselves.”

Later she added, “It’s all well and good to do static breath holds and say, ‘Yeah, I can hold my breath for four minutes’, but that’s not relatable to big wave surfing. There’s nothing relaxing about it, there’s no nice, calm setting. It’s violent. It’s disorientating. Your heart rate is going through the roof. So with the training, you’re trying to regulate your heart rate as quickly as possible, bringing your nervous system down. It feels like you’re running at 10-speed on a treadmill at a maximum incline while holding your breath. So it’s hard. It’s as much stress as you can manufacture, underwater. But it’s always with someone, never alone.”

So there we have it, accidentally. Passing out, face down, in a bathtub and running on a treadmill at maximum incline while holding breath.

Going to start this afternoon.