I had the pleasure this weekend of meeting a couple of legends.
One a certified Living National Treasure, literary figure of note in Australia's and much of the English speaking world's universe. The other a young fella who though not a legend yet, may well become one.
Last Friday I attended a charity art auction at the Australian Marine Conservation Society in support of the banning of the shark fin fishery and its abhorrent practice of cutting off the fins and returning the sharks alive, but finless, to the sea. Hundreds of millions of sharks are killed every year to service shark fin soup. Clearly a cultural wall of massive proportions will make a worldwide ban difficult but in our backyards why should we put up with it?
Some very desirable works were up for the hammer, supported by an introductory talk by writer Tim Winton.
Tim's writing is like a knife through technicolour butter. His ability to paint you into a moment with words is pure delight for me, so to meet him afterwards made my month. Some of you may know his book, Breath, and know too that in his spare time he is also a surfer and freediver of great experience.
I'd wanted to get a copy of Musica Surfica into his mitts, in thanks for giving me so much reading pleasure and also as a gift to someone I felt would enjoy it. Seeking him out in a quiet moment, we ended up having a conversation of more depth than I'd expected given the demands being placed on him ina crown of 300 or so. It turns out he already had a copy, loved the film, but said give me that one anyway, and make sure you sign it.
As if I wouldn't?
We got talking about the sea, riding fish and his love of Tom Wegener's boards. An easy, unpretentious, delightful guy...
And yesterday, a call from Ed Sloane, who wanted to hook up for a chat and maybe take a few shots, but really just to say g'day.
I mentioned Ed in my previous post, and discovered yesterday his real job is as an environmental scientist, with a working brief to survey water quality over a range encompassingthe hinterlands of some of the best surfing in the country. Naturally this gives him ample moments to be on the spot when light and the elements combine for magic. Little wonder his shots sing.
At fun but sorta sloppy Bells, Ed parked his lens on the stairs in an attempt to get a shot of me at it, but he quickly realised his mistake and joined me in the drink, as the waves were so inconsistent waiting for one was more fun that watching me wait, and wait, catch it, then stuff it up.
Whatever. I did get a couple worth the effort, if not photographing.
The guy has great deal of talent, I hope he manages to keep its flame alive long enough to see it grow, and we manage to catch up again, to gasbag some more.
Oh and by the by, big lumpy son Joey wanted me to take a snap of him as a bookend to one I took of small ratbag son Tom, using the Hipstamatic app on my iPhone. There is a particular combination of lens and film in it I love, though in Joe's case I fiddled about some more just to be difficult.
So shots today... Winki, in the dawn light, Richie checking a "secret place of colours' prior to going back to Bells, and my darling boys, set for the wall when I get the prints back, just before I nail them to it.