Whaddya get when you mix Waimea Bay with an eight thousand dollar winch and a hundred buck roll of plastic? Too many laughs!

Earlier today, Jamie O’Brien, orange as a tropical sky and lover of sleek women you and I will never possess, released the latest in his weekly YouTube series.

In this episode, Jamie sails his Hobie Cat from Pipeline and down to Waimea. In not-so-short order, he realises the Waimea River’s potential for a slip-and-slide, backflips off the Waimea jump rock, sails back to Pipe, grabs pals and loads eight-thousand dollar Subaru winch into truck, drives to Ace Hardware in Haleiwa, buys a hundred-buck roll of plastic, drives back to Waimea, builds ramp, nails down plastic and hits the damn thing at fifty, sixty clicks.

Watch it and you’ll wonder if the river wasn’t maybe a lil shallow to be somersaulting headfirst into.

“It was definitely shallow,” says Jamie. “I was wondering whether we should do it, should we not, then I was, like, game time. We’re on it. We’re doing it. Next thing y’know, you’re in the air…oh…shit…”

Despite the sceptre of quadriplegia etc, the only injury came when Jamie’s non-surfing, but hard-charging Nitro Circus pal Skummy Diener, whom Jamie had previously tried to drown at Pipeline, lost power at the jump and didn’t make the water.

“He just told me, ‘My shoulder’s still fucked!’. This is the Skummy who once drove a car through a parked RV on fire. He’s definitely one guy who makes me step up my game when it comes to land. He’s as savage as it gets. (But) when it comes to water he’s the biggest pussy in the world. He’s like a well put-together Poops. I suggest anything and he has no hesitation.”

Do watch.

Mick, Mason, dazzling form…

I enjoy, very much, the new, contemplative Mick Fanning. Contest Mick was a tough sell, his personality impounded deep in his head. Glazed eyes. Grotesque smiles.

But, Mick, here, well outside of the thieving queens and boosting and whatever else of the tour, is radiant. As Mason Ho told me recently, “Style truly does come out when you don’t give a fuck.”

I think this is Mick fanning, now.

Of course I adore, beyond any mortal measure, the artistry of little Mason, the almost-thirty-year-old from Sunset Beach, Hawaii.

Therefore, this eight-minute featurette, which was directed by Vaughan Blakey who made a surf film last year that was so good it made me gasp like a fish, lays a good pinch on the nose.

The narrative is simple: Mick and Mason go surfing empty good waves in Australia. And, like a good buddy film, the director snatches the pair in conversation of the cosmic sort.

Whether it is confected or not is immaterial.

The pair ain’t prissy.

Words flow.

Mick leads.

Mason sings.

If Rip Curl had a little stiffness in the past, the pairing of Mick and Mason as well as Vaughan and his old boss from Tracks, Neil Ridgeway, shakes off the old muumuu and reveals an arsenal of golden curves.

Prepare a speedball and watch.