Rare enough footage of two-time world champ John John Florence and bro's Nathan, Ivan, as tweens and teens.
Thirty-six years ago, a pretty goofy footer from Ocean Grove, a Christian seaside community in New Jersey, told her parents she was going to go live on Oahu’s North Shore and asked if they’d, like, mind, driving her to La Guardia airport.
The surfing thing had been in Alex Florence’s head ever since she was 12 and she was soaking her brain every day in surf movies like Beyond Blazing Boards and riding skateboards all over town and surfing in oversized wetsuits.
One day Alex was sitting in the room of one of her pals watching surf vids on the portable television set with the giant video cassette recorder hooked up and said: “I’m going to be one of those girls!”
With a backpack and a skateboard and a couple of c-notes in her purse, the lil blonde teenager landed in Honolulu, walked out to the Nitmiz and just stuck out her thumb.
A few years later, while backpacking through Europe, the one-day two-time world champ was conceived after a night out in Austria.
Two other kids soon followed.
The partnership with the daddy, whose name is also John, didn’t work.
Daddy soon disappeared into the penal system.
Alex remembers driving in her ancient Valiant, the ex-husband gone, John, five, Nathan, three, Ivan, a baby at one-and-a-half, looking over at her little boys and saying: “What do you guys want to do? We don’t have to do anything or be anywhere? We can stay out til 10:30! We can go to thrift stores!”
Alex took her kids everywhere and despite what y’might call a massive hand break, felt this sudden freedom. A total freedom. She took them everywhere.
They built a half-pipe in the yard. Magazines British Vogue, US Vogue and Elle couldn’t help themselves when they heard about this gorgeous solo surf mom and her shaggy haired boys.
Alex felt like she had a guardian angel. No money, but she was on the beach, was feeding her three boys and, well, you tell me that this ain’t the life.
Meanwhile, Alex was studying for her degree in English literature at the University of Honolulu. And, this is where it gets real good. Alex says that if you saw the size of her student loans, which she’s only just paid off, you’d think she was the “gnarliest surgeon ever.”
But, her gig was using her loans to support the family, to raise the kids. She didn’t want to leave her kids with just anybody. So she went to school at nights and took in boarders. Yeah, sometimes dinner was corn flakes, but the kids were playing outside in the sun and were getting pushed (or towed) into waves by a role call of surfing icons including Nathan Fletcher, Danny Fuller, Kala and Kamalei Alexander, Herbie Fletcher and Pete Johnson.
This excerpt from the 2015 film View From a Blue Moon, shows the fam at that period where the boys are starting to come into the first flush of mango, John, maybe thirteen, Nathan and Ivan, a few years behind.
Brown faces, yellow hair, slumberous eyes, gazillion watt smiles.
Mason Ho, a whooshing flash.
Sunset Beach’s “Queen of Crazy” Mason Ho strokes Ala Moana Bowls in “What kinda pretty dreams you having wide awake?”
While other surfers balk at the threshold, Mason Ho leaps over the fence!
In this short from the studio of Riordan Pringle, we see the thirty-three-year-old Mason Ho, still lithe despite a diet of candied yams, pistol-whipping Ala Moana Bowls, a summer time treat out the front of the marina there.
The short is eight minutes long and although the surfing wraps at 3:50 Ho moves like a ballet prima donna through the rubber-necking crowd.
Heavy veined and thick with blood.
Dirty Nell puts his processed curls through the rinse in Scotland!
Hawaii’s queen of crazy Mason “Dirty Nell” Ho releases final, epic sequence from hair-raising month-long romp through Scotland, “His eyes are wild, psychotic slits that bat-dance in your soul!”
A tutorial on how to cling to a flying trapeze, every fibre at breaking point while trying to postpone the inevitable fall.
How many times have we seen Mason Ho, the thirty three year old from Sunset Beach, hissing with pleasure as he flings his thighs open to throes of the thrill?
In this, the final instalment from Mason Ho’s month-long romp through Scotland, described in an earlier instance by JP Currie as like watching “dog chasing its own tail, even if it ends in success it’s going to hurt”, Mason bombs his biggest challenge yet.
The eighteen-minute edit is a tutorial on how to cling to a flying trapeze, every fibre of his skin at breaking point while trying to postpone the inevitable fall, giving an impression of ease and grace.
Even Ho's bleed!
Mason Ho ditches gloomy Scotland for rock-and-cock POV tubes on a barely habitable island in Fiji, “I stick to what the audience needs, which doesn’t really change all that much!”
Small, busty, doe-eyed Mason Ho courts danger and adventure in Fiji!
Whatever Reef and GoPro are paying little Mason Ho, thirty-four years old or close enough from Sunset Beach in Hawaii, nephew of much-loved world champ Derek Ho, gone too soon, and son of Pipe Master Michael Ho, brother of Coco if that counts for something, it ain’t enough.
The last time we saw Mason “Dirty Dick” Ho, he was in Scotland, where the men are handsome and the whisky is delicious if we dare believe TERF JK Rowling. There, he wrestled obstinate waves that wish to cut you from ass to earlobe. In those extraordinary edits, you can almost hear the urgency in his testicles.
Here, a few days in the life of a haul to Tavarua, that barely inhabitable rock in the Pacific Ocean, although money has manicured it to something close to heaven for the Americans who assault it from March to September, as viewed through his POV lens, with much attention paid to the Reef shoes that dress his little feet.
Before you turn off, wait for the POV tubes, the drop-in by a kite-foiler, the hit on the reef that draws blood and flesh from Dirty Dick’s shoulder.
As always from the studio of Rory Pringle and Mason Ho, essential.