"Mason first tries his 4’9” 20.00 liter Mini surfboard ...Lost Rad Ripper and almost dies."

Mason “Baby” Ho riding little surfboards over the sorta reef ledge that’d have most of us dirtying our darling little panties, ain’t new.

But this has a feeling of madness, like a drunk beating his against the floor. Here, it’s Mason and pal, Sheldon “Bubba” Paishon, ploughing dry tubes under the hot North Shore sun.

“Mason first tries his 4’9” 20.00 liter Mini surfboard …Lost Rad Ripper and almost dies,” says filmer Rory Pringle.

And, it’s not as if Baby is immune to regular ol fear of sharp reef.

“Not reefs in general ‘cause I love reefs, but razor sharp reef,” Baby told me a few years back. “That shit makes me cringe. I’ll never snorkel at Pipe ‘cause I’m too scared to see what’s underneath.”

In that same interview I asked him about his worst fight,

“I’ve had a few good ones!” said Baby. “I’ve never really gotten too beaten up, though. I like to talk it out and do it nicely, like what just happened recently at Deserts (Desert Point, Lombok, Indonesia). I don’t want no problems after. I like to be respectful. I’ll say, “I’m sorry you’re pissed, and I respect you big time, but you look down to fight and I’m down to fight, so let’s go in, fight, then shake hands and have a beer afterwards.” That’s my theory. If you’re going to fight, respect ‘em and they’ll respect you back and maybe not tag you so bad if they catch you good. If they call me a bitch, at least I tried. I’ll come in and… bang… dynamite! When I was a kid, an Aussie guy cracked me really good. We made friends ‘cause I elbowed him in the face and he was all stoked. That was on the Gold Coast.”

Sufficiently primed?

A masterclass in the childish-but-thrilling-to-watch fins-first takeoff…

In this, the fiftieth instalment of Mason Ho’s North Shore winter and spring, our innards are yanked out by Mason’s capacity to ride waves fins first.

Oh, it’s childish trick, I know, and to some about as clever as losing one’s teeth to improve the ability to fellate, but it’s a skill that has forever fascinated me.

Mason, almost thirty-two, is as light as a fart and controls the movement of tail and nose on his little five-feet and two-inch surfboard with such dexterity it leaves the viewer gasping for air like a caught fish.

Semi-essential.