I almost died. So was my life spent chasing waves worth it?

“Life is finite and chaotic!” Reflections of a surfer who almost died

If you’ve got the physical means to go for a wave, go get one for me.

I almost died a few weeks back. Eighteen days in hozzy, three wrapped up in wires in ICU. I’ve had a lot of time in a hospital bed and on the couch to think about things.

The cause of this sudden health challenge was a virus which triggered a severe form of myocarditis that led to my immune system attacking my heart and lungs and ultimately trying to kill me in a bad case of autoimmune friendly fire.

While I still don’t have a confirmed diagnosis, the leading contender is rare, and deadly (giant cell, pretty depressive data).

No, it’s not vaccine related, thanks for asking though.

One of the things I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about is surfing, what it means to me, why I’ve been so committed for decades to chasing it and my assessment of this commitment when I thought there was a reasonable chance of checking out.

Was it time well spent?

While not my only random dalliance with potential life changing/ending situations (couple of car crashes, heavy shark bump which thankfully missed my limbs) this was the most serious.

Surfing has been one of the core pillars of my life since my late teens and has been the driving force for a lot of decisions. One of which was leaving my native country, travelling and ending up settling in another geo due to the access to more consistent waves (+ a bunch of other upsides).

Side note: I’ve heard a working theory that if you’ve had to hustle and risk a bit to get access to better waves and a better life, you are way more appreciative of even marginal conditions. I agree with this. I also think you tend to avoid becoming jaded and burned out like those who were fortunate enough to grow up in high-quality surf zones with frequent exposure to ok > good waves.

I remember reading something Nick Carroll wrote years ago about surfing and the ephemeral nature of it as a sport. Nick had a line like, “the harder you try and hold onto it, the more it slips through your fingers”.

I think there’s wisdom in this analysis. I also think it’s equally applicable to trying to accurately describe the act of surfing and the long-term impact on a life spent with a lot of water time. I just don’t quite have the complete vocabulary to fully articulate what it means to me. Apologies for clumsy language and mangled metaphors ahead.

What’s my hot take?

On reflection, I have never felt more alive than peak moments in good surf, ideally with good friends. I’ve been lucky to get quite few of these moments over the past 30-plus years and had an excellent run in 2024 (Fiji, G-land, coupla sessions in Portugal on a work trip, north and south coast NSW and and at home in Australia). Again, hard to articulate due to the fleeting nature of the experiences, but a bunch of beautiful moments in beautiful waves. I have zero regrets about any trip I’ve been on or any local paddle out.

At point I’ve had high levels of stress and anxiety from the common challenges of life. Navigating these challenges is one of the privileges of being alive and a core feature of the human experience. Having the habit of going for a wave regularly has provided some emotional ballast and calm during times of internal chaos.

Is surfing a mental health therapeutic? Who knows, but I’ve found it helpful.

I’ve also found throwing myself in a stormy sea can calm a stormy mind. In my experience it’s hard to be anxious about much when you’re pinned in a four-foot shorebreak and have 15 duck-dives to nail to escape purgatory.

Being fit makes everything else in life easier and surfing has been a gateway drug for me to health and fitness. I started cross training and mobility stuff in my early thirties to deal with niggles and to stay in the water. This has had other benefits, mental health and resilience, more waves, more time in the water, potentially helping me recover faster in hospital.

Yeah it’s boring, no I’m not advocating becoming a gym bro (you don’t need a gym) – but for me a bit of other fitness work has made a solid difference. Again, zero regrets.

Surfing as social connective tissue. There is a famous Harvard longitudinal study on what the secret of happiness is. Eighty-five years of data shows it largely reverse engineers to love and social connection. Being perma-frothy has given me a tight group of close mates who I stay connected to and bullshit with. Our text threads are a mixture of arguing the merits of fin systems (I’m pro FCS2, controversial!), fin clusters (hail Simon Anderson!), boards, shapers, waves, past and future trips and other meaningless surf and life minutiae.

Social connection is also prominent during my average go out at my city local as there’s probably 50 regs that know each other and shoot the shit in the carpark and the surf in between hustling each other for waves. I don’t think this is a particularly unique experience, but I think it’s a beautiful thing. Those tight and loose social connections may all be making us a bit happier and keeping us alive.

Watching the kids take to the water. My kids both love the water and prior to this curveball I’ve been enjoying watching my elder one start on his surfing journey. I’ve been getting as much of a kick surfing with him and his mates in little three-foot beachies as I did at pumping eight-foot Kongs and the Ledge. And no, I have no deep seated competitive or professional aspirations for him. I’m no vicarious surf dad shoving my progeny out of the sky onto your head as you navigate down the line. My only hope is he keeps going and keeps learning and developing his own relationship with the ocean.

Surf media as mindless entertainment. I used to buy mags before the internet cruelled that model and have been lurking on BeachGrit for quite some time. For me the consumption of surf media is a fun distraction from the viciousness and seriousness of life. I appreciate anyone who can write well (Derek, Nick Carroll, Steve Shearer, JP, Jen See, Chaz, Matt Warshaw, Jamie Brisick, Bill Finnegan, Jed Smith, Gra Murdoch etc) and can capture what it means to ride waves, the associated peripheral “lifestyle” or who can simply make me laugh.

I also appreciate the sheer amount of good surf “content” online. For free. If watching a Mason Ho video doesn’t make you smile and immediately want to paddle out, do you even surf?

Could I have spent this time more productively? Absolutely.

Would it have led to a more fulfilling and richer life – who knows?

But watching a CT while chatting in the threads is real fun.

So what does it all mean?

Surfing has been a major positive for me and I’m happy to have chased it hard. While I’m not sure when I can paddle out again, best case three-to-six months, I’m hoping I get the opportunity and will suck the marrow out of every moment if it happens.

If you’ve got the physical means to go for a wave, go get one for me.

Life is a finite and chaotic thing and one day you won’t have the opportunity.

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Mick Fanning's gruesome injury (right) and how he would have been forced to see the world had it been any closer to his eyeball. Photo: Instagram
Mick Fanning's gruesome injury (right) and how he would have been forced to see the world had it been any closer to his eyeball. Photo: Instagram

Beloved surf champion Mick Fanning nearly loses eyeball as Tropical Cyclone Alfred barrels down on Australia

"This is not the opportunity for curiosity."

Now, anyone who knows anything about this surfing life has had eyes glued to wild video clips coming out of Australia’s east coast. Tropical Cyclone Alfred, due to make possible landfall in mere hours, would be the first to hit south of Brisbane since 1974. As a rare Category 2, it could pack quite the punch with extremely high winds, scary flooding, etc. Queensland premier David Crisafulli warned, “There is a chance this cyclone will cross in the middle of the night with a high tide. That is not the time to be making your evacuation plan, now is the time.”

But.

Very dreamy waves just right ahead of that aforementioned time. The sort of perfect racing right-hand barrels that have lit imaginations since Australia’s Kirra, Superbank, etc. became a thing.

Beloved surf champion and savvy businessman Mick Fanning joined a who’s who of local talent in wrangling the dreamy perfection seen here.

And here.

But things almost went horribly wrong for the three-time number one. Fanning appeared to suffer a gruesome injury that nearly popped an eyeball from its very socket.

Downplaying the severity, the platinum blonde simply shared, “Couple of stitches to go with a couple tubes. Good to go again haha.”

Well, Alfred is on schedule to kiss the Lucky Country as Thursday turns to Friday.

Brisbane Lord Mayor Adrian Schrinner would like you to know that “This is not the opportunity for curiosity.”

Sensible.

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Israeli surfers forced to hide identity at World Surf League event in Morocco

The perils of being a Jew abroad!

The perilous state of being Jewish abroad was laid bare last week when Israeli surfers asked the World Surf League to remove their nationality and flag against their names at the recent Qualifying event in Morocco. 

Anat Leilor, Israeli surfer, forced to hide identity for fear of reprisals
Anat Lelior, Israeli surfer, forced to hide country of  birth for fear of reprisals

Moroccans, as the worldly among us already know, have a comprehensive history of slaying the infidel, both at home and overseas. Moroccans, particularly from the diaspora in Europe have starred in major attacks, usually as part of al-Qaeda or ISIS network.

A non-exhaustive list of attacks by Islamists in Morocco might include the 2003 Casablanca bombings when a group of suicide bombers from the city’s slums hit five locations in the pretty city, including a Jewish community centre. The attacks killed 45 people and injured over 100. 

Four years later,  a suicide bomber detonated at an internet café, killing himself and injuring others. Four weeks later, three bombers blew themselves up near the U.S. Consulate and a cultural center, with one civilian casualty. Four days after that, two suicide bombers detonated near a police station, injuring one officer. 

All that splatter for nothing!

In 2011, a  bomb exploded at the Argana Café in Jemaa el-Fna square, which is a real popular tourist spot in Marrakech, killing 17 people (including 10 foreigners) and injuring over 20. 

In 2018, two Scandinavian backpackers were murdered, beheaded if you wanna to be precise, in the Atlas Mountains. The murderers posted a video of the beheadings online. 

Abroad! Very busy! 

Moroccans were over represented in the Islamist cell that killed 191 people and injured over 1800 in the Madrid bombings of 2004.

The coordinated attacks in Paris in 2015, which killed 130 people and injured hundreds more was the plan of the Moroccan-born Abdelhamid Abaaoud, 

The following year, Moroccans hit Brussels Airport and a Brussels metro station, killing 32 and injuring over 300.

In 2017, a cell of Moroccan-origin youths from Ripoll, Spain, were behind the van attack in Barcelona’s Las Ramblas killing 13 and injured over 100. A few hours after knocking over pedestrians in Barcelona, another terrorist drove through a crowd in Cambrils, one hundred clicks away, killing one.

That same year a Moroccan went wild with a knife in Finland, killing two and injuring eight. 

So you can understand why someone like the two-time Olympian from Tel Aviv might want to fly under the radar in Morocco. Reminds me a little of 1999 when Australia led a peace-keeping force in East Timor, which drove the Indonesians, who weren’t real happy East Timor voted to secede, absolutely nuts.

Walking through Padang in Sumatra, you’d be stopped and asked what your nationality was. We had taxi doors pulled open by angry locals. Where you from! Where you from!

American, bro! 

The Israeli flags have since been reinstated as the tour moves to non-Islamic nations, including Tahiti, Peru, Australia, Brazil, Barbados and South Africa.

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Hoppus (insert) as punk rock Medici.
Hoppus (insert) as punk rock Medici.

Surf video soundtrack maestro Mark Hoppus to sell rare Banksy at auction!

"I want to be a punk rock Medici.”

There was once a time, almost lost in the mists, when the bleeding edge in high performance surfing could only be found on VHS cassettes, sometimes Beta cassettes too (if someone had a friend whose parents owned a Saab and liked to to “go agains the flow”). Radical clips of hot action all scored to the very latest in punk pop stylings. Pennywise, Lagwagon, NOFX and, of course, Blink-182.

The San Diego-area trio featured on the best of the best auteurs, Taylor Steele, before exploding to worldwide fame themselves. Fame and enough riches for frontman Mark Hoppus to purchase the Banksy painting “Crude Oil (Vettriano)” in 2011.

The work a riff on the 1992 painting “The Singing Butler” by Scottish artist Jack Vettriano, Banksy adding a sinking oil liner and two characters in hazmat suits moving a barrel of waste.

Well, Hoppus is now taking it to auction at Sotheby’s where it is estimated to bring in between $3.8 mil and $6.35 mil.

“It was first exhibited in (Banksy’s) landmark exhibition in Notting Hill in 2005, which really propelled (Banksy) into the public sphere,” Mackie Hayden-Cook, specialist, contemporary art at Sotheby’s, declared. “It’s rare for a work of this quality to come to market, and this one really has all the best ingredients. A fabulous owner, it’s hand-painted, impeccable exhibition history, and its subject is more urgent now than ever before.”

Hoppus says that he will use the money to buy even more art.

“Coming up in punk rock, it was always the ethos that if your band got any success, you brought your friends up with you,” he shared. “So with this art sale, I hope to take some of the money and put it back into the art community with up-and-coming artists that we’re inspired by and just continue that…I want to be a punk rock Medici.”

And there you have it.

But if you could invest in one piece of art, which would it be?

Do you remember when Blink-182 was supposed to play the Surf Ranch Pro but cancelled and was replaced by Social Distortion?

Heady times.

Bid here on the Banksy.

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Shockwaves as top female surfer nominates Brazilian wave pool “world’s best” over Kelly Slater tank in Abu Dhabi

Boa Vista, says Lakey, is "undoubtedly the best wave pool in the world"

One of the more enjoyable vlogs from pro surfers is the regular instalments gifted by the number seven surfer, philanthropist and motivational speaker Lakey Peterson. 

Her YouTube channel dates from 2010 and the vlogs have been getting dropped for since 2019. Lakey Peterson has been a force, as they say, in surfing ever since she started starting winning everything aged twelve and up, a legacy, maybe, of a mama that was was once listed in the Guinness Book of World Records as the fastest spring swimmer. 

Mama’s story is a wild one. 

Between 1978 and 1980 Sue Hinderaker held the American record in the 50-yard freestyle, a short-course event swum in a 25-yard pool, standard for NCAA competitions. This record-setting performance clocked her at a speed of 4.42 miles per hour, earning her a spot in the 1980 Guinness Book of World Records as the “fastest female swimmer” for that distance and pool length.

Her swimming career didn’t translate to Olympic gold, howevs. The 50-meter freestyle, her strongest event, wasn’t part of the Olympic program in 1976, 1980, or 1984—it debuted in 1988 at Seoul. 

In 1980, the U.S. boycotted the Moscow Olympics over the Commies invading Afghanistan, canceling the Olympic Trials. Although USA Swimming held a national championships meet afterward to name a symbolic Olympic team, Sue, who had placed seventh in the 100-meter freestyle at the 1976 Olympic Trials, said to hell with this, opted out and traveled to Hawaii instead. 

Two years later, she was married to Dave Peterson, whose daddy Herb Peterson, a McDonalds franchisee and later exec invented the McDonald’s Egg McMuffin, and a dozen years later birthed Lakey. 

Fascinating, eh?

A little earlier today, Lakey catalogued her visit to the Boa Vista wavepool in Saul Paulo, Brazil, easily the best of the genre. You’ll remember when sixty-year-old bodyboarding god Mike Stewart stole the show from world champs Italo Ferreira and Carissa Moore there with his arabesques, fouettés, picqué tours and port de bras inside the long tubes.

In her latest episode, Lakey Peterson travels from the Abu Dhabi pool to Brazil where she has a marathon eight-hour session to refine her airs and to shave off the burrs in her turns.

Boa Vista, which cost over three hundred million dollars, is “undoubtedly the best wave pool in the world”, says Lakey, hurling sand, metaphorically, at the Abu Dhabi Kelly Slater tank.

Like Abu Dhabi, howevs, it ain’t a place for the poor.

Starting at one million dollars, well-heeled surfers must buy their way in via apartments and villas built around the tank and then sling another one hundred gees a year for surfing access.

 

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