Watching the Pe’ahi Challenge go down at Jaws, you couldn’t help but be impressed by the guts and skill of the competitors. And it certainly helped that the World Surf League outdid itself with slick camera work and some truly breathtaking angles. But me, I switched it off and went and rode some two-foot mushburgers instead, thereby missing my old pal Dave Kalama’s stint as guest commentator, which was apparently the real highlight of a day full of them. Yeah, I know, they’re putting their lives on the line and this is the thanks they get. I’m sorry Billy, Greg, Mark, Makua, Shane et al, please don’t take it personally. Put the best of the best out at massive Chopes or Cloudbreak and you can’t drag me away, but the super-sized air drop stuff just doesn’t do it for me. Maybe it’s got something to do with my personal cowardice as a surfer (which is well known!), but more likely it goes back to my first years as a surf scribe, covering those long ago winters on The Rock for this august publication. PT took me out at Sunset on a day that was way beyond my comfort zone, but I managed to slide a couple of sly ones between sets and feel slightly less than a complete fool. On the gigantic days that people still talk about, however, I was reduced to watching specks on the horizon from the relative comfort of Bernie Baker’s verandah or the clifftop or the beach park at the Bay. It was frequently impossible to identify who was on a wave, unless you could spot a trademark move, like Reno’s low centre of gravity bottom turn, or Hakman’s surf chimp drops, or Terry Fitz’s beautifully precise full-rail cutback, or PT’s soul arch, and a bit later, Simon’s carve and MR’s seagull swoop. I would watch it for hours, but the bigger it got, the more boring it became. At 15-foot Pipe or 18-foot Sunset or 25-foot Waimea, you needed a weirdo out there. Of course, you could argue that anyone that surfs 25-foot Waimea is by definition a weirdo, but there were some super weirdos who would paddle out nonchalantly and make my day. Like Owl Chapman, who was blind as a bat and couldn’t see what he was taking off on, but usually managed to make the drop and strike a hood ornament … Read more

The big wave season in Hawaii is in full swing, with the most holy of surfing events, the Pipe Masters, having closed the year in competitive surfing. The divinely green and mountainous archipelago has an enduring native culture and a long sea-based history, and thus possesses a spiritual undercurrent all of its own. The paddle-out ceremony is one of many traditions that originated here, and is embraced across the world by even the most secular of surfers. With the 5-year anniversary of Andy Irons’ death on November 2nd 2014, followed by the Eddie Aikau opening ceremony in early December, the memorial paddle-out seems an interesting subject to pick apart. In 2010, paddle-outs in honour of Andy Irons happened simultaneously across the globe in four different continents. With the sea connecting each floating ceremony in its all-encompassing salty glove, it was a send-off for the record books, and surely cast some good juju into the atmosphere. Likewise, the Eddie memorial paddle-out, which is re-enacted annually to celebrate the life of Waimea Bay’s first lifeguard Eddie Aikau and to mark the beginning of the waiting period for the prestigious big wave event, is one of the most exalted of surfing ceremonies. The modern version of the ceremony can be traced back to the original ‘Waikiki beach boys’ of 1920s and 30s Hawaii – a group of renowned watermen who surfed, swam, fished and paddled outrigger canoes along the famous stretch of beach. They were the first clubbies (before clubbies and surfers became mortal enemies) and also perhaps the first to cash in on the surf tourism industry when they began teaching foreign holidaymakers how to surf all those years ago. Living their lives in and around the sea, the scattering of a fellow beach boy’s ashes in the drink seemed only logical. Duke Kahanamoku, the best known of the Waikiki beach boys was honoured with a paddle-out in 1968, after he died at age 77. Of the ceremony we know: “The beachboys sang their farewell song “Aloha Oe” and the shoreline of people began to weep. Duke’s ashes were paddled out to sea by an armada of outrigger canoes and surfers. Nadine Kahanamoku scattered his ashes into the sea. The mourners in the canoes, boats and on surfboards threw flowers and flower leis for Duke. Soon the ocean was a blanket of flowers and Reverend Akaka spoke amongst the tears, “Paoa was … Read more

West Australian photographer Russell Ord, 41, is world-renowned for his images of The Right. His good mate Darren McCagh, 34, is a cinematographer and part-owner of production company Farmhouse Films. The pair have been working on ‘One Shot’ – a documentary tracing Ord’s quest to capture “one shot” that defines who he is. Darren McCagh: It’s a funny feeling when you drop him in the zone. Part of me is pumped to see what he’s gonna come up with during the session and the other part is fearful of the possibility that something may go wrong. I’ve never felt like telling him not to jump off because I know he can handle himself, he’s trained hard for it, he knows what’s at stake, he knows when he’s in or out of position and what to do in either situation. The one thing with Ordy is he doesn’t hesitate to make decisions in any situ- ation and 99% of the time it’s the right one. It’s the unknown variables that scare me when it comes to that place and dropping him off smack bang in the middle of it. Particularly on those sneaky days when no one else is sitting in the channel and the strong period causes gaps of 20 minutes between waves. Those moments a scarier for me than the continual roll of massive waves. I know his family so well now, and it sometimes creeps into my mind, that one day I may witness an attack and have to tell them their husband and father is no longer around. The idea behind ‘One Shot’ was formed from a conversation at his house one day. Unhappy with his photos, frustrated with the industry, he went on one of his regular rants that lasted longer than usual. He talked about getting a shot he could look back on and say, “Jesus, what went into that?” So we decided then and there to attempt to tell that story. It’s taken way longer than we thought it would, and it’s been super challenging to line-up for shoots and swells over the past few years but in the end we know we’ll get there. He knows what I want to do with it and the story I want to tell, and he trusts me with his family and his life, which I’m very grateful for. Russell doesn’t change for anyone. He is who … Read more

Tell us about where you grew up, does it have any influence on your work? I grew up in Wamberal on the Central Coast of NSW which is about an hour north of Sydney. Wambi is the typical classic Aussie beachside town with its charismatic locals, fun waves and a boardriders club that loves a carpark hangout. It’s famous for the ‘Wambi Whopper’ which is the best burger on the coast! The coastal environment and associated cultures have had a huge impact on where I am today. When did you realise, ‘hey I’m not bad at drawing, maybe I can do this instead of cleaning up pots ‘n’ pans at Terrigal Beery?’ As much as I loved the free food & beers when I was a dishpig as a grommet, it couldn’t go on forever ha. I always knew that I wanted to combine a creative career with my lifestyle. Where has your work/career taken you since? I freelanced for a long time based on the Central Coast until I felt the need to get inspired by a team. From there I started working for a design company in Alexandria Sydney which owned a variety of labels that gave me a good scope of the fashion industry. I was offered a position at Quiksilver Inc in 2009 and I’ve been here since, relocating with the Roxy brand to California and last year to the south of France. Was there a massive culture shock moving from California to France? Yeah definitely!!! I’d only done one work trip to France six months previous so I didn’t really know what I was in for. The US is the land of convenience where everything is attainable at anytime of the day. The French way of living is very nonchalant and you learn quickly to slow down and appreciate what’s around. So what is life like in the south of France. What does an average day for Luke Taaffe include? A typical day starts with a couple of pieces of Vegemite toast and a wave at one of the nearby beachies. The campus/office is about 20 minutes north of the Spanish border in a town called St. Jean De Luz so it’s a pretty short drive from where I live in Biarritz. Work varies everyday depending on what part of the season we are working on but generally I’m creating yardage prints, graphics and assisting … Read more

“Filming came pretty naturally to me. Bob Evans gave me a crash course and I shot some footage for him and earned enough to buy my own 16mm camera. I started filming Morning of the Earth without a plan – it just unfolded naturally. The next project was a film on George Greenough with David Elfick. It was meant to go for 10 minutes but with George a conversation can go for days. I ended up staying with him for a year in Santa Barbara and helped build his boat Morning Light while we made Crystal Voyager. After that I kind of fell off the perch – sold Tracks, got a little bit of money and went walkabout. I travelled through Asia and made a series of documentaries on festivals of the Far East which screened all around the world. I felt I’d said everything I needed to say about surfing with Morning of the Earth. The documentary work took me to Tibet and I became fascinated with Buddhism. I think there’s a real connection between Zen Buddhism and surfing. A lot of seekers use meditation to reach the place we get to when we’re surfing. Surfers ride waves for different reasons but underneath it, really, the essence of what we’re doing is connecting with the wave’s energy. After years of travelling I worked on some surf films for Quiksilver (Metaphysical, Globus and Quiksilver Country). Then I met the founder of Island Records, Chris Blackwell, in Bali and he invited me to his place in Jamaica which happened to be Ian Fleming’s old house where he wrote all the James Bond books. Beautiful place. I did a film on Caribbean music and then shot another surf film on Lombok (Can’t Step Twice on the Same Piece of Water). I made a film about travelling across the Sahara Desert, one about Tibet and a film about Shadus [Indian holy men] attending the biggest gathering in the world, the Kumbha Mela. It’s on the banks of the Ganges and 20 million people go through in four weeks. I was there with my brother and we were the only westerners there. We ended up with all this incredible footage which I put to Brian Eno and Talking Heads music. I got to screen the film to the band members of Talking Heads in David Byrne’s New York loft apartment. They were really stoked … Read more

The Wiz journey: In 1967 I began working at Bennett Surfboards under Dick Laycock gluing up and making fins. However, in 1969 I had aspirations to be a glasser, and I learnt at Shane Stedman’s factory. I would head over there at night after gluing up my fins and glass a couple. I eventually began glassing at Bennett before I moved up to Byron in 1974 and began working for Warren Cornish and Bob McTavish. I did do a 25-year stint in the bush at some point, but McTavish is the only place I’ve worked since and I’m quite proud of that. Transition: When skateboards began getting popular in 1975 Warren Cornish showed me a fibreglass skateboard and asked if I could make them. I said, of course, I could, but only better (laughs). Making those skateboards was basically the same process as making fins so I told Warren that we were making skateboards, we might as well make our own fins. 100% handmade? Absolutely! From a roll of fibreglass and a pail of resin, all here in my little man- cave of disorganised chaos! I also make fins differently to everyone who makes fins today. It’s in the way I lay them up. If most people want a red fin they just use one colour and lay it up all at once. I do three lay ups of different colours over a number of days. That’s how I get my colour fades and shading. Beautiful Fins: The aim for me is to have a bit more dimension. It’s also all about good quality. Anyone could lay up a fin as long as they’re diligent, but it has to be made by a person with a good heart. It’s never gonna be any good if it’s not made by a person with a good heart. That’s very important. The name Wiz: From the aforementioned Dick Laycock. When I was gluing up the fins back in those days, often I worked early in the morning because I was running behind like a young idiot. Winter was cold and I used to have these super hot mixes of resin going so they would cure faster and I could get the bloody things on the truck waiting out the front! Dick liked the comic strip The Wizard of Id, and he walked in one morning to smoke and crackling and super hot mixes … Read more

When Jack Freestone soared to victory in the world Pro Junior as an 18-year-old back in 2010, most of us expected him to waltz onto the world tour. His surfing already had the strength and power of a rugby centre (a career alternative he had in fact turned his back on) and the pop of a slam-dunking NBA player. Freestone also seemed like the natural heir to that long lineage of Coolangatta surfers who have claimed frontline roles in pro surfing, from MP all the way through to Mick Fanning. Jack, by his own admission, also expected the graduation from dominant junior to world title contender to be a relatively straightforward progression. However, history had a plan to humble the golden boy, who was perhaps a shade too handsome and talented for his own good. While Jack toiled unsuccessfully in his first forays onto the WQS he could only watch on as Gabriel Medina, one year his junior, made his presence felt on the world tour. Meanwhile, Jack’s close friend and former flat mate, Mitch Crews, got tossed around and bounced after just one year in the top flight. They were both journeys Jack watched from the outside looking in. While the WQS formula initially eluded him, Jack certainly didn’t let his overall act stagnate. He became world junior champ again in 2012, courted the most glamorous girl in surfing, made bank on a beer company and laid down stellar sections for those free surfing king-makers, Kai Neville and Taylor Steel. Finally this year, after being a bead of wax away from qualifying at the end of 2014, Jack Freestone has arrived in the elite realm of pro surfing. In an era where the Brazilians are storming the gates of the WCT and threatening to challenge Australia’s historical dominance of the sport, Australian surfing fans are elated to see Jack entering the 34-man Battle Royale wearing the green and gold colours. We want Jack to be nimble and Jack to be quick and like Mick Jagger howled, we hope Jumping Jack Flash is a ‘Gas, Gas, Gas!’ but only time will tell if Mr Freestone does all those things Jack is supposed to do. You can be sure his fins will fly when Jack paddles out at his first event at Snapper. Photo: Macfarlane Junior Beat Downs: When I first started doing the ‘QS after winning the first world pro … Read more

In 1792 four French explorers landed on the southernmost point of unknown southern lands that would become known as Australia. During their 26 days ashore they collected many samples of flora including the blue gum. Prolific in that area of the world, those same trees are still the most prominent species in the landscape’s composition. At the time of landing the explorers wrote of a place that seemed just as hostile and impervious as it was alluring and beautiful: “It will be difficult to describe my feelings at the sight of this solitary land situated at the extremities of the globe, so secluded that one feels separated from the rest of the universe. Everything is influenced by the wilderness of the rugged landscape. With each step, one encounters the beauties of unspoilt nature, with signs of decrepitude, trees reaching a very great height, and of corresponding diameter, are devoid of branches along the trunk, but crowned with an everlasting green foliage. Some of these trees seem as ancient as the world, and are so tightly interlaced that they are impenetrable.” — Bruni d’Entrecasteaux, 1793 Author, Shaun Wallbank, finds his moment and drops into a bomb, ending up with a unique perspective of the lineup after being rinsed over the bouldersAuthor, Shaun Wallbank, finds his moment and drops into a bomb, ending up with a unique perspective of the lineup after being rinsed over the bouldersAuthor, Shaun Wallbank, finds his moment and drops into a bomb, ending up with a unique perspective of the lineup after being rinsed over the bouldersAuthor, Shaun Wallbank, finds his moment and drops into a bomb, ending up with a unique perspective of the lineup after being rinsed over the bouldersAuthor, Shaun Wallbank, finds his moment and drops into a bomb, ending up with a unique perspective of the lineup after being rinsed over the bouldersAuthor, Shaun Wallbank, finds his moment and drops into a bomb, ending up with a unique perspective of the lineup after being rinsed over the bouldersAuthor, Shaun Wallbank, finds his moment and drops into a bomb, ending up with a unique perspective of the lineup after being rinsed over the bouldersAuthor, Shaun Wallbank, finds his moment and drops into a bomb, ending up with a unique perspective of the lineup after being rinsed over the bouldersAuthor, Shaun Wallbank, finds his moment and drops into a bomb, ending up with a unique … Read more