Sorry for the lack of posts... I've bin workin'.
Had a brief, fun surf last week in head high beachbreak, took some snaps but I won't bore you with them.
But.
I had a very interesting meal with a certain Derek Hynd last Friday. About what I won't say yet, so that I don't put the mozz on it but what he'd been doing that day will blow your mind.
Last Thursday the reports were calling for a pretty solid six foot and offshore in the Winki/Bells area.
So Derek loads up the car in Sydney, starts the 600 mile drive at around 6pm, hits Melbourne in the morning and is at Bells in time for the outgoing tide (good) around 11am.
So what.
Here's the rub.
He paddled out on one of 3 5'7' highly customised boards, with NO fins, and proceeded to rip the bags out of it, or as one young guy who spotted him when we were eating said, "you were shredding". He went on to say he couldn't believe a guy's face as Derek dropped down a wave backwards before spinning it 'round to come off the bottom.
I asked Derek a few things about control.
Can you bottom turn?
Yep.
Hold a high line?
Yep.
Get barrelled?
Yep
Cutbacks?
Not really.
So how do you stay close the curl?
Take it high and throw a three sixty.
Apparently he was making waves from Uppers to Lowers, (200+ metres) at speed, killing it.
Later, when I dropped him back to the car, I saw the boards. What were originally I think knee boards, had been scalloped, scooped, concaved and fluted in various configurations, some more successful than others, to produce enough drag in the right places to keep the back at the back when he wanted, and allow enough edge control to lay a decent turn.
Suffice to say a fascinating meal. Great guy.
After we finished he headed back to Sydney so that he could see his son's soccer match in the morning.
Things are afoot.
And did I mention he turns 50 this month?
Oh yeah... Happy Easter!
Friday, April 06, 2007
Monday, March 26, 2007
All sorts of stuff happening at the moment, a lot of it to do with surfing, but not about me riding waves.
More about that later.
As I work freelance you go through quiet periods, and boy had I been having one. Starting to get a bit paranoid, the usual insecurity that does your head in sometimes, but when these things happen I usually look for an opportunity for a surf and let my worries wash away.
No such luck as the surf has been crappy for weeks and then, last week, just as I was REALLY READY FOR A SPLASH, I get a call and I'm into an agency for a few days. Thank God, I'm earning again, great place, but you'd think they'd at least time it between swells.
And to top it all off, this happens...
Like they say, timing is everything. Perhaps I'll get lucky tomorrow.
Shots nicked from Swellnet...
More pics here:
http://www.swellnet.com.au/sessions/Return_of_the_Surf_Coast_240307.php
More about that later.
As I work freelance you go through quiet periods, and boy had I been having one. Starting to get a bit paranoid, the usual insecurity that does your head in sometimes, but when these things happen I usually look for an opportunity for a surf and let my worries wash away.
No such luck as the surf has been crappy for weeks and then, last week, just as I was REALLY READY FOR A SPLASH, I get a call and I'm into an agency for a few days. Thank God, I'm earning again, great place, but you'd think they'd at least time it between swells.
And to top it all off, this happens...
Like they say, timing is everything. Perhaps I'll get lucky tomorrow.
Shots nicked from Swellnet...
More pics here:
http://www.swellnet.com.au/sessions/Return_of_the_Surf_Coast_240307.php
Monday, March 19, 2007
Monday, March 12, 2007
Way back in '04 I had my 50th birthday trip to Northern Sumatra. We shot an embarrassing amount of footage... boy, was it embarrassing, and I've been slowly editing it all.
My poor old (42-50) mates have waited a long time, so here fellas, is a taste.
For those of you who have no clue what you're seeing, this is Bawa, a break in the Hinako Islands, off Nias, which is off the northern coast of Sumatra, not too far from Bandah Aceh. The break was made famous by Tom Curren a few years earlier when he rode it at 12 feet on a tiny little Tommy Peterson Fish style board. After riding the wave all I can say is Tom - respect.
Of the crew on the trip, there were three regular foots, Robbie, Hec and me.
Robbie, just recovering from melanoma, avoided the sun like the plague, always wore a wettie, and while making a comeback after a long time away from the water, surfed in a lovely, relaxed style.
Hec was our doctor, and resident free spirit. The only longboarder on the trip, you can read more about Hec and his amazing exploits in the November archive.
Me, you can tell me because I have a dreadful habit of raising my left arm as I cutback or come off the top.
Of the goofies, we had Neil, Robbie's brother. An expert in artificial intelligence (couldn't I do with a bit of that), he doesn't appear in this sequence. Neil had the habit of 'paddling up the reef' to solo it at any opportunity. Nickname: Charger. I now know why.
Bim (real name Harold) was our best surfer. Usually riding a mid length board, he also ripped on Hec's long board, then kept borrowing our little boards and tore it up on them, too. He went short when he got home.
Marky organised the trip. Mark you'll see sipping a Bintang at the end. A human dynamo, Mark organised the trip, and entertained us every day. A long time top sailor, he's been in two Whitbread Round the World races.
Why'd ya give up surfing for so long, Marky.
... So I could ride 80 foot waves in the Southern Ocean.
And Rich, the guy I surf with more than anyone. You'll hear Rich pay out on me for "claiming" on the last wave in the clip. Top bloke, big smile, not much hair.
Also in the clip is spidery Aki, from the crew of Southern Cross, now one of the guides on Sumatran Surfariis. Knows the Ments and North backwards and a lovely, gentle soul. Plus, two Uruguayan rippers, living feral on the island, hop in to a couple and embarrass us.
That's about it.
Boys, if you read this, we've got to do it again before too long. To everyone else , don't laugh too hard.
It was a blast...perhaps you can join us next time.
PS: The tsunami of 04 struck three months after this footage was taken. The break hasn't been the same since.
My poor old (42-50) mates have waited a long time, so here fellas, is a taste.
For those of you who have no clue what you're seeing, this is Bawa, a break in the Hinako Islands, off Nias, which is off the northern coast of Sumatra, not too far from Bandah Aceh. The break was made famous by Tom Curren a few years earlier when he rode it at 12 feet on a tiny little Tommy Peterson Fish style board. After riding the wave all I can say is Tom - respect.
Of the crew on the trip, there were three regular foots, Robbie, Hec and me.
Robbie, just recovering from melanoma, avoided the sun like the plague, always wore a wettie, and while making a comeback after a long time away from the water, surfed in a lovely, relaxed style.
Hec was our doctor, and resident free spirit. The only longboarder on the trip, you can read more about Hec and his amazing exploits in the November archive.
Me, you can tell me because I have a dreadful habit of raising my left arm as I cutback or come off the top.
Of the goofies, we had Neil, Robbie's brother. An expert in artificial intelligence (couldn't I do with a bit of that), he doesn't appear in this sequence. Neil had the habit of 'paddling up the reef' to solo it at any opportunity. Nickname: Charger. I now know why.
Bim (real name Harold) was our best surfer. Usually riding a mid length board, he also ripped on Hec's long board, then kept borrowing our little boards and tore it up on them, too. He went short when he got home.
Marky organised the trip. Mark you'll see sipping a Bintang at the end. A human dynamo, Mark organised the trip, and entertained us every day. A long time top sailor, he's been in two Whitbread Round the World races.
Why'd ya give up surfing for so long, Marky.
... So I could ride 80 foot waves in the Southern Ocean.
And Rich, the guy I surf with more than anyone. You'll hear Rich pay out on me for "claiming" on the last wave in the clip. Top bloke, big smile, not much hair.
Also in the clip is spidery Aki, from the crew of Southern Cross, now one of the guides on Sumatran Surfariis. Knows the Ments and North backwards and a lovely, gentle soul. Plus, two Uruguayan rippers, living feral on the island, hop in to a couple and embarrass us.
That's about it.
Boys, if you read this, we've got to do it again before too long. To everyone else , don't laugh too hard.
It was a blast...perhaps you can join us next time.
PS: The tsunami of 04 struck three months after this footage was taken. The break hasn't been the same since.
Friday, March 09, 2007
DOH MOMENTS
Every surfer, as a kid, dreams of getting a picture of themselves in a magazine. I was no different but like most of us...no chance.
Then, on my first trip through Europe in '79, my mate, Ren, and I where in a town called Figuera da Foz, on the Portuguese coast, enjoying a couple of plates of our version of spaghetti bolognese, when a white Kombi pulled into the camping ground. In it where Brian and Kathy, a couple of Californians doing the surfing thing through Europe,and shooting some stuff for Surfing magazine.
They wanted to know if we wanted to come south with them and surf this epic beach they'd found. It was, they said, huge and 'like Hawaii' and "we want someone to surf it so we can send it to the magazine"
The sentence was barely finished before we'd packed and fishtailed out of the campground. (I exaggerate)
When we arrived the next morning we found 8-10ft peaks breaking 50 yards offshore and reeling off in both directions, light offshore and pretty...well...epic.
Three days of this and it got bigger, we started to call it 18ft but in reality it might have got to a smidge over 12, I dunno, to us it was BIG. We'd only been surfing maybe 8 years at this point and looking back at the shots, we were rough.
Brian was a very good surfer himself, and mixed it with us, while Kathy shot from the beach. On one wave I remember taking off, backside, hitting a chop on the way down, and swinging an arm up in front of me to stay on.
"I hope she didn't take a shot of that" I thought.
Three months later this appeared in Surfing.
DOH!
Twelve years later I'm surfing at a break called Two Mile down south here in Vicco. Now this is a serious wave, and this was a SERIOUS session. It was a once in a lifetime, 12-15ft solid gold special, with a list of stars in the water a mile long. Tom Carrol, Martin Potter, Derek Ho, Brad Gerlach, Ross Clark Jones, Tony Ray, Cheyne Horan, plus the locals, and a few semi regulars like... me.
I'm making a fist of it, and getting the odd one, and the odd belting, including one wave where I got in cleanly, very relaxed, maybe too relaxed, maybe...oops dig a rail, stick my bum in the air then proceed to get absolutely hammered.
Script reads.."I hope no one took a shot of that."
A couple of months later...
DOH (2)
Now the thing about that session was I got one wave where it all went right. I paddle in clean on a BIG one, made it to the bottom and looked along a looong wall, and thought 'do I straighten off or pull in?'. I swung off the bottom, and as I drew up onto the wall the lip folded over to give me the biggest barrel I'd ever seen, much less been in. While in there I saw three guys paddle up the face, screaming, and I remember smiling back at them before I finally came out to another 100 metres of big, blue wall.
I pulled out right in front of Tom Carrol "Nice tube" was all he said.
I thought "nice?'
Thanks Tom.
Ten years later I'm sitting out at Winki when Craig (aka Pinhead) (now CEO Quiksilver in Torquay) says to me:
Micky, remember that big barrel you got at Two Mile that day?
Yeah Craigy.
That still plays in my head,even today.
Mine too mate.
A couple of years later, again out at Winki and again Craig says:
Micky, remember that big barrel you got at Two Mile that day?
Yeah Craigy?
Tom Carroll said 'that was the best wave that guys gonna get in his entire life...'
DOH(3)
So far he's been right.
Every surfer, as a kid, dreams of getting a picture of themselves in a magazine. I was no different but like most of us...no chance.
Then, on my first trip through Europe in '79, my mate, Ren, and I where in a town called Figuera da Foz, on the Portuguese coast, enjoying a couple of plates of our version of spaghetti bolognese, when a white Kombi pulled into the camping ground. In it where Brian and Kathy, a couple of Californians doing the surfing thing through Europe,and shooting some stuff for Surfing magazine.
They wanted to know if we wanted to come south with them and surf this epic beach they'd found. It was, they said, huge and 'like Hawaii' and "we want someone to surf it so we can send it to the magazine"
The sentence was barely finished before we'd packed and fishtailed out of the campground. (I exaggerate)
When we arrived the next morning we found 8-10ft peaks breaking 50 yards offshore and reeling off in both directions, light offshore and pretty...well...epic.
Three days of this and it got bigger, we started to call it 18ft but in reality it might have got to a smidge over 12, I dunno, to us it was BIG. We'd only been surfing maybe 8 years at this point and looking back at the shots, we were rough.
Brian was a very good surfer himself, and mixed it with us, while Kathy shot from the beach. On one wave I remember taking off, backside, hitting a chop on the way down, and swinging an arm up in front of me to stay on.
"I hope she didn't take a shot of that" I thought.
Three months later this appeared in Surfing.
DOH!
Twelve years later I'm surfing at a break called Two Mile down south here in Vicco. Now this is a serious wave, and this was a SERIOUS session. It was a once in a lifetime, 12-15ft solid gold special, with a list of stars in the water a mile long. Tom Carrol, Martin Potter, Derek Ho, Brad Gerlach, Ross Clark Jones, Tony Ray, Cheyne Horan, plus the locals, and a few semi regulars like... me.
I'm making a fist of it, and getting the odd one, and the odd belting, including one wave where I got in cleanly, very relaxed, maybe too relaxed, maybe...oops dig a rail, stick my bum in the air then proceed to get absolutely hammered.
Script reads.."I hope no one took a shot of that."
A couple of months later...
DOH (2)
Now the thing about that session was I got one wave where it all went right. I paddle in clean on a BIG one, made it to the bottom and looked along a looong wall, and thought 'do I straighten off or pull in?'. I swung off the bottom, and as I drew up onto the wall the lip folded over to give me the biggest barrel I'd ever seen, much less been in. While in there I saw three guys paddle up the face, screaming, and I remember smiling back at them before I finally came out to another 100 metres of big, blue wall.
I pulled out right in front of Tom Carrol "Nice tube" was all he said.
I thought "nice?'
Thanks Tom.
Ten years later I'm sitting out at Winki when Craig (aka Pinhead) (now CEO Quiksilver in Torquay) says to me:
Micky, remember that big barrel you got at Two Mile that day?
Yeah Craigy.
That still plays in my head,even today.
Mine too mate.
A couple of years later, again out at Winki and again Craig says:
Micky, remember that big barrel you got at Two Mile that day?
Yeah Craigy?
Tom Carroll said 'that was the best wave that guys gonna get in his entire life...'
DOH(3)
So far he's been right.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
FIFTY BLOODY THREE last Thursday!!
If I 'm not careful I'll enter my third or is it fourth mid - (ha ha) - life crisis.
Thankfully my family and friends have been very kind to me and it's been a lovely few days, notwithstanding the fact that I've got a poxy cold and the waves have been flat or crap for a couple of weeks now.
Little Tom turned twelve the day before me as well so it was birthday land all 'round, and to be honest it's much more fun celebrating twelve. I reminisced back to my twelfth, and then thought right back, and remembered this little shot of me at a bit past one year old, on a beach in Fiji, where I was born in 1954. See the little right hand barrel near my foot? I was born to be a regular foot.
The only problem is the surf gear. My bathers (that's what we called them then) were a crinkly blue nylon that I remember (and strangely, I do remember) as being pretty cool.
I don't think they'd pass muster today.
If I 'm not careful I'll enter my third or is it fourth mid - (ha ha) - life crisis.
Thankfully my family and friends have been very kind to me and it's been a lovely few days, notwithstanding the fact that I've got a poxy cold and the waves have been flat or crap for a couple of weeks now.
Little Tom turned twelve the day before me as well so it was birthday land all 'round, and to be honest it's much more fun celebrating twelve. I reminisced back to my twelfth, and then thought right back, and remembered this little shot of me at a bit past one year old, on a beach in Fiji, where I was born in 1954. See the little right hand barrel near my foot? I was born to be a regular foot.
The only problem is the surf gear. My bathers (that's what we called them then) were a crinkly blue nylon that I remember (and strangely, I do remember) as being pretty cool.
I don't think they'd pass muster today.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
The surf is crap this weekend.
Yesterday I visited my dear friend, Louise, in hospital.
Being an advertising guy you work with a lot of people in a lot of different offices, as the nature of the business means burn out if you stay too long, and also,if an account goes wrong, you're out of a job.
Most become 'friends' to some degree or another, but few have had a deep impact on my life outside the business.
Indeed, I think my career would be much more lucrative if I had played that game of lunches, award shows, all that crap.
I was always too aware of the call of the other, and I was and am still working in an industry I'd happily see the back of.
That being said, sometimes you meet classic, wonderful people.
Louie was my copywriter over 20 years ago, and again back in the mid nineties we teamed up again, then as part of a "Threem' (as in three people in a team), so it was me, Lou, and Heather Rose (what a wonderful name).
Two writers and an art director. Work was fun.
Then the account went west, and so did half the agency.
By then though, a great friendship was forged though with Louie, Bruce, Kara and Mimi. I'd sung her girls to sleep, and Sue and I have had many wonderfully funny evenings, laughing at Bruce's endless jokes and one liners, or sitting open mouthed at Louie's appalling language and wicked sense of humour.
Actually, we're all pretty good at being appalling.
Today the girls are both Bachelors of Music, Cara in violin, and Mimi, one of the best little jazz singers you'll ever see.
Louise is a published author, and running a writing school. Bruce has piffed art direction (yes, he was one too) to begin a new career in photography, his great passion.
Just when things were going swimmingly, Louie is diagnosed with multiple myeloma.
She nearly died during her stem cell transplant. Into remission with hopes high, she and Bruce took her students on a writing/photography tour of Italy. A great success.
Now she's relapsed.
Yesterday I popped in to see her, to be confronted but her curled up in a little ball. Bruce said - Mick's here to see you darling - and she turned, smiled and started to cry.
Take me out of here Micky, it hurts so much.
By then I was sitting on the bed with her and said - Louie, if they let me I'd grab you by the heels and drag you out the bloody door.
She laughed at this and rallied, sat up and revealed a chest like a pin cushion, with bruises, tubes and bandages detailing a couple of weeks of desperation as the doctors searched for a chemo alternative that would make a dent in this miserable disease's progress.
As she sat up her nightie started to fall from her knees so I said - Watch it Louie or I'm gonna get a view straight up your fanny.
She laughed - Don't worry Micky, they've got me in a fucking NAPPY!
The old Lou was back and Bruce wheeled her out into the garden. It's hot (again), and as we stepped into the sun I began to think we should try and get some sunscreen. I looked down to Lou as she threw her gown off and arched her neck to take in every blessed ray.
I laughed at myself. The last thing she has to worry about is skin cancer.
We got talking about a lot of stuff, including death.
I'm not afraid at all, says Louie, I just worry about leaving everyone behind.
She's not religious, Louie, nor am I.
No one knows what lies on that other side, and I reflected inwardly something I've said to Lou in earlier chats, and have often said to the kids.
They've asked me, more than once, as they've grown older - Dad what happens when we die?
I tell them what the different religions believe, about Heaven for the Christians, Jews and the people of Islam, about achieving Nirvana after a long cycle of reincarnations for Buddhists, and my favourite part of Buddhist belief.
That there is an ocean of universal life, and individual lives are like waves that rise up from it, travel for awhile, before falling back into that great universal sea.
In truth, we haven't a clue.
So I say to the kids, two things.
Did you know that every atom in your bodies formed inside stars billions of years ago?
No.
You're made of stardust.
Cool.
And remember before you were born?
No.
Was that so bad?
No.
Well that's the worst thing that can happen.
Their faces relax.
And when you die, one day you'll be stardust again.
Be the best you can, treat people the way you'd like to be treated, and whatever you choose to believe, don't force it on anybody else.
Just before I left Louise got some good news. Chemo is working. Better blood count. No more dialysis. You'll be home next week.
You could have bottled her smile.
Yesterday I visited my dear friend, Louise, in hospital.
Being an advertising guy you work with a lot of people in a lot of different offices, as the nature of the business means burn out if you stay too long, and also,if an account goes wrong, you're out of a job.
Most become 'friends' to some degree or another, but few have had a deep impact on my life outside the business.
Indeed, I think my career would be much more lucrative if I had played that game of lunches, award shows, all that crap.
I was always too aware of the call of the other, and I was and am still working in an industry I'd happily see the back of.
That being said, sometimes you meet classic, wonderful people.
Louie was my copywriter over 20 years ago, and again back in the mid nineties we teamed up again, then as part of a "Threem' (as in three people in a team), so it was me, Lou, and Heather Rose (what a wonderful name).
Two writers and an art director. Work was fun.
Then the account went west, and so did half the agency.
By then though, a great friendship was forged though with Louie, Bruce, Kara and Mimi. I'd sung her girls to sleep, and Sue and I have had many wonderfully funny evenings, laughing at Bruce's endless jokes and one liners, or sitting open mouthed at Louie's appalling language and wicked sense of humour.
Actually, we're all pretty good at being appalling.
Today the girls are both Bachelors of Music, Cara in violin, and Mimi, one of the best little jazz singers you'll ever see.
Louise is a published author, and running a writing school. Bruce has piffed art direction (yes, he was one too) to begin a new career in photography, his great passion.
Just when things were going swimmingly, Louie is diagnosed with multiple myeloma.
She nearly died during her stem cell transplant. Into remission with hopes high, she and Bruce took her students on a writing/photography tour of Italy. A great success.
Now she's relapsed.
Yesterday I popped in to see her, to be confronted but her curled up in a little ball. Bruce said - Mick's here to see you darling - and she turned, smiled and started to cry.
Take me out of here Micky, it hurts so much.
By then I was sitting on the bed with her and said - Louie, if they let me I'd grab you by the heels and drag you out the bloody door.
She laughed at this and rallied, sat up and revealed a chest like a pin cushion, with bruises, tubes and bandages detailing a couple of weeks of desperation as the doctors searched for a chemo alternative that would make a dent in this miserable disease's progress.
As she sat up her nightie started to fall from her knees so I said - Watch it Louie or I'm gonna get a view straight up your fanny.
She laughed - Don't worry Micky, they've got me in a fucking NAPPY!
The old Lou was back and Bruce wheeled her out into the garden. It's hot (again), and as we stepped into the sun I began to think we should try and get some sunscreen. I looked down to Lou as she threw her gown off and arched her neck to take in every blessed ray.
I laughed at myself. The last thing she has to worry about is skin cancer.
We got talking about a lot of stuff, including death.
I'm not afraid at all, says Louie, I just worry about leaving everyone behind.
She's not religious, Louie, nor am I.
No one knows what lies on that other side, and I reflected inwardly something I've said to Lou in earlier chats, and have often said to the kids.
They've asked me, more than once, as they've grown older - Dad what happens when we die?
I tell them what the different religions believe, about Heaven for the Christians, Jews and the people of Islam, about achieving Nirvana after a long cycle of reincarnations for Buddhists, and my favourite part of Buddhist belief.
That there is an ocean of universal life, and individual lives are like waves that rise up from it, travel for awhile, before falling back into that great universal sea.
In truth, we haven't a clue.
So I say to the kids, two things.
Did you know that every atom in your bodies formed inside stars billions of years ago?
No.
You're made of stardust.
Cool.
And remember before you were born?
No.
Was that so bad?
No.
Well that's the worst thing that can happen.
Their faces relax.
And when you die, one day you'll be stardust again.
Be the best you can, treat people the way you'd like to be treated, and whatever you choose to believe, don't force it on anybody else.
Just before I left Louise got some good news. Chemo is working. Better blood count. No more dialysis. You'll be home next week.
You could have bottled her smile.
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