In early September, I found myself back in Indo—aboard the Sibon Jaya—with Samuel Pupo and Mateus Herdy for twelve days chasing waves through the Mentawais. The boys had booked the trip as a proper escape. No heats, no jerseys, no pressure. Just surfing for the sake of it.
For Mateus, that meant a lot. Until only a few weeks before the trip, he didn’t even have a main sponsor and had spent the past five years chasing the World Tour dream with the added pressure of having no sticker on the nose of his board. It was time for a breather.
I’ve known Mateus a long time. We worked together full-time for five years before I went freelance. We’ve spent countless hours on the road, chasing QS events across the world. I even competed against him and Sammy as kids. I beat Mateus once—he was twelve. Sammy got me on a buzzer-beater in the U16 final that cost me a shot at the Rip Curl Grom Search International Finals. Still stings a little.
Years later, I ended up as Mateus’ sidekick. I handled everything from filming and editing to sorting flights, paying bills, even knowing more about his bank account than he did. We travelled everywhere—Japan, Hawaii, Europe—always in comp mode. Which means you live in a bubble. When you’re chasing results, there’s a nervous energy that never really switches off. Every decision feels loaded. Every surf is about finding form, not freedom.
This trip was different.
“I just want to surf and forget about everything,” Mateus told me one night.
You could feel the difference instantly. The goal wasn’t to win or prove anything—it was to surf, film, talk shit, and reset. There were still moments of deep surf chat—about points, qualification scenarios, and the state of the industry—but mostly it was about chasing good waves and stacking clios.
If I had to sum up the two of them after this trip, it’d be simple: Sammy is patience. Mateus is confidence.
Sammy’s the personification of calm. You’d have to really try to annoy him. He’s unbothered, unfazed, just floating through life. He’ll sneak out for a solo session without telling anyone, not because he doesn’t care about clips, but because he genuinely loves surfing. And when he does know the camera’s rolling, he turns it on.
Our first surf at Lances Left set the tone. After sitting for what felt like an eternity, a solid set swung wide and Sammy was a touch too deep. Anyone else would’ve kicked out. He went for a full-rotation air, landed in the lip, disappeared in the foam, and somehow rode out clean while the boys lost it in the channel. It was the perfect opening act.
That’s Sammy: patient, selective, quietly explosive. He’ll wait all day for the wave—usually the best one of the trip.
Mateus is the complete opposite. He wants reps. He wants data. He wants clips. Every surf has a purpose, even if the vibe’s casual. He’s always scanning for angles, feedback, improvement. That approach has earned him real credibility in the surf world—not just as another Brazilian powerhouse, but as a surfer with taste, vision, and intent.
He’s demanding, sure, but not in a bad way. He holds himself to the same standard. If we set out to get a specific clip, he’ll stay in until he nails it. When filming, he’s across everything—light, lens, composition. He knows what he wants and isn’t shy about saying so, but he also gives props when things click. He’s got that creative drive that pushes projects from good to great.
Working with both of them at once was like riding two very different waves. Sammy’s energy is pure flow—“it’s all good” vibes—while Mateus is all focus and fine-tuning. But together, they’re balanced. In the water, they’d constantly compare waves, swap tips, and break down turns.
“That rotation was a bit flat,” one would say.
“Yeah, if your arm was more like this, it’d hit better,” the other would add, miming it in the boat.
It wasn’t competition—it was collaboration. They wanted to lift each other. No ego, no rivalry. Just two elite surfers refining their craft in real time.
Both seem in solid places with where they’re at in life and their careers. Sammy just won in Saquarema and looks locked for another CT season. Mateus has been one spot short of qualifying too many times to count, but there’s a sense this is finally his year. You can see it in how he surfs—loose but deliberate, confident but calm.
Even when the waves weren’t pumping—and truthfully, we didn’t score an epic swell—the energy stayed high. We surfed nearly every day, sometimes twice, and still logged over a hundred solid waves from each of them. Their standards are ridiculous, so only a fraction will see daylight, but it’s crazy how much they can squeeze out of average surf.
They’re both working on their own projects now, and the footage from this trip already has its purpose. Nothing’s been rushed out as a reel or a TikTok, which feels refreshing in 2025. It’s rare to see surfers holding clips back, building something more meaningful.
Twelve days, endless nasi goreng, boat beers, and good laughs. Not the trip of the decade wave-wise, but maybe one of the most memorable in other ways. For me, it was a reminder of what surfing looks like when you strip away the pressure and just chase lines with your mates.
Two of Brazil’s best—one patient, one relentless—meeting in the middle of the Mentawais, both still hungry, both still evolving. And somewhere between the waiting and the hammering, between patience and confidence, they found exactly what they came for.
