Been a while since i updated on what’s been doin sooooo:
ive spent the last month kickin it in my favourite part of the world in remote Pacific getting tubbed off my head with good mates mike brennan, andrew mooney, simon treweek and jimmy monie. It was one of the best trips i’d ever been on, finding new set-ups and living with the local people was amazing. Tropical infections followed after numerous run in’s with the coral bottom and our feet littered with urchin spines. The photos are from Mikey and Jimmy’s cameras and some frame grabs from Treeksy’s film clips.

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ALL PHOTOS LUKE SHADBOLT

A few days before the swell was due to hit west oz, i was speaking to Jamie Mitchell. He was planning to head to Margaret River and try his luck paddling some bombs and i was super pumped to join him on his journey. But there was also another spot i’d been wanting to check out on this swell and from what i could work out, the conditions were looking quite favourable. So with return airfares to Perth being well over my budget, i decided to ring Jamie and let him know i couldn’t make it and go hunt something new. I’ve always tended to go on the mission into the unknown rather than head somewhere that’s well known. But with this comes the reality that its a lot more likely your going to get a skunking. Research and experience are the two major things you need to score a wave pumping. The third one is co-operation from mother nature. When the forecasts aren’t truly defined then you can only hope that she pulls through with the goods.

I’d been speaking to another friend, bodyboarder Ewan Donnachie. He rang me to see what i was planning for the swell and we started to talk ideas, but neither of us wanted to give too much away. A couple of minutes later we started pissing ourselves laughing as we realised we’d both been talking about the same wave. He was heading there with filmer Mike Jennings and photographer Luke Shadbolt. I was looking after Volcom kid Jack Scollard and good friend Sandy Ryan was frothing for the mission. Everything was coming together, except for the fact that we knew stuff all about this wave. We knew it was surfable and by looking at maps we had a vague idea on what winds and swell it needed. So our experience was nil and our research was scarce and due to the fact that the wind forecasts were light and variable, the chances of us scoring was quite slim. BUT THERE STILL WAS A CHANCE.

After a ten hour drive with 3 petrol stops, 2 coffees, 1 McDonalds stop, a flat tyre and no sleep, we finally arrived at our destination a couple of hours after sunrise. Everyone was absolutely drained, we looked like a bunch of doped out zombies, but we were on a mission and as much as we wanted to sleep, the day was far from over. After doing a brief tour around the local scenery, we thought we worked out a nice place to launch the skis, which later turned into a disaster. The shorebreak was too big so we bailed to a different spot. Fifty metres up the track my car got completely bogged, delaying us another hour. The swell looked huge, maybe 10-15ft, although the winds were glassy it was still quite junky. The wave broke 4km out to sea so the only way to check it was to get out there.

With both skis chock a block full of crap, prepared for anything, we slowly made our way out to the wave. We were all super excited on what awaited us and as we drove around the back of the wave we all screamed with joy as a huge pit unloaded and spewed its guts out the back of the wave. From side on we got the true indication of what was in store for us. The wave broke for about 500 metres, but it was far from perfect. Some sections would barrel, others were really fat. Some would be flat bottom, then a second later be full fluff burgers. It seemed too big and also too messy. There were closeouts and just looked like an absolute nightmare to surf. But we’d put in a massive effort to finally get there so we were all willing to give it a crack. Once in the water and sitting out in the lineup it became clear just how sectiony the wave actually was. Both Shaddy and Mike had a ski each to shoot off while the rest of us tried to paddle into a few. It was ridiculous trying to find the take off spot and all of us were getting fuck all waves. A few nice looking empties would slide through, which kept us keen to keep trying. Ewan ended up snagging a gem but got too deep in the pit, wiping out and busting his ear drum. Sandy, Jack and myself got a couple of average ones but none that hollowed out nicely.

An hour into the session a set came through and it seemed to be bending in on a really nice angle. It wasn’t big but it looked like it was going to throw a barrel. As i dropped into it i realised i was super deep so i started to race it and as it started to pit i tried to stand tall. I travelled momentarily through the pit then got exploded by the shockie. The wipeout was fine and after a couple of duck dives, i was almost out the back. Then sure enough the horizon goes dark and one of the biggest sets of the day lands ten feet in front of me. I tried to duck dive as there was no way i wanted that leash to snap, but due to hanging onto my board, i ended up getting rolled really far inside. After getting another 5 waves on the head, id been pushed all the way off the frontside of the reef where the whitewash faded out into deep water. I tried a few times to punch back through the lineup but didn’t stand a chance, i couldn’t even get close to the whitewater. So here i am 4km out to sea, half a km from where my mates are surfing and the current is taking me out to sea, no where in the direction of where i need to be. The lads thought that i would paddle out down the line somewhere, but after half an hour they realised this wasn’t the case and began to search for me. I started to feel really angry that they hadn’t come to pick me up straight away and just started yelling shit into the air (this was all my fault though, as we didn’t put safety plans into place). After an hour i finally saw a ski scouring the edge of the whitewash about 400m away. They were looking in the complete opposite direction. They didn’t realise that the current was drawing me away from the wave. Also the chop and turbulence was making it even more impossible. I waved and yelled for half hour before i lost sight of the ski. I was starting to lose my nerve and started to realise this situation could very easily turn into something really bad. I was going over scenarios in my head. The anger had turned to anguish. The constant paddling was starting to drain my energy, but i knew if i stopped i would get dragged straight out to sea. Another option was to try paddle to shore, but that was going in a different direction to where we launched the skis so if i didn’t make it to the beach then theres no way they would find me. There was a bombie about halfway from the boat ramp to the wave that we travelled past on our way out there, but if i paddled to it then id have to wait until they gave up searching for me and started heading for shore, and by that time id probably have no energy and that’s even if i made it that far. Then i started thinking of sharks. I tried my hardest to destroy those thoughts, but once it was in my mind it wouldn’t leave. Another hour went by and i could faintly hear the skis buzzing around. They were looking everywhere but in my direction. Thinking i would of got washed down to the inside of the reef, where in fact the opposite was happening, i was drifting further out to sea. Due to the whitewash spanning over a kilometre, the field they were searching was huge. I decided to use the last of my energy trying to paddle as close as i could to the edge of the breaking water as that seemed to be where they were focussing the search. Half hour later i was done, no energy left, still a couple of hundred metres from the whitewash i just sat up on my board and pondered on the situation at hand. I had no other choice but to just sit there and hope they would come across me very soon, before it was too late. Finally i seen the skis again, they were half a kilometre away but heading in my direction. As they got closer i thought they had seen me, and then they stopped. They hadn’t turned around, so i gathered they were scanning the ocean. I had a fluro orange future fins sticker on the tail of my board so i just started waving it in the air as high as i could. I didn’t have a clue whether they were even looking in the direction as i was pretty much under the water but i just kept waving it . After 5 or 10 minutes i was completely exhausted and just laid back on my board and shut my eyes, my thought process was completely blank. I woke to the sound of the jet ski getting closer. The relief when i saw the boys a few metres away seemed surreal. They were as shocked as i was but we were all so stoked that the drama was finally over. If it had of been an afternoon session with fading light, there was a good chance they wouldn’t have spotted me. Even though we didn’t score amazing waves, that night i just felt grateful to be alive. Moral to this little story, “SAFETY FIRST”. We didn’t have the buddy system put into place and that would of easily changed the whole situation.

The next day the swell was half the size. We went back out to the wave but the tide was high and the wind was howling up the face. Group decision was to pack up camp and head to where we knew more about the coastline and had more of a chance of scoring some goodness. That afternoon we stopped off at a slab that we heard some boogers surfed that morning and said it was pretty good. But by the time we got there the swell had backed off even more and it was only just capping on the reef. We had one more idea for the day, so back in the car for another 2 1/2 hour drive further round the coast till we got to a nice little coastal town which had a couple of fun little slab set ups. Low and behold, the wind was onshore. It seemed like everything was against us on this trip. We couldn’t believe what was happening, it was like we were always behind the eight ball and couldn’t quite get to where we wanted to be. I guess it was funny, we had put in such a big effort and were getting truly skunked for it. The forecast was calling for conditions to be perfect for a left slab the next day, so we scoured the town for accommodation. As our luck would have it the whole fucking town was booked out. There were 4 beds left at the backpackers but there were 6 of us. The old mate at the counter was very stubborn about not overloading the place , but we had no choice. So four of us hired a room while the other two chilled at the pub till the hostel doors closed then sneaked in. We found a couple of mattresses in the hallway behind a couch, so all the lads were sorted with beds. Things were starting to come together (well barely, but we had to rely on the positives). Four in the morning the alarms sounded and we gathered our brains and jumped back in the cars. Two hours later we were looking at 8ft heaving spitting left hand slabs. Smiles appeared on everyone’s faces. Finally after everything we had gone through, it was all a big lead up to this day. We all scored some amazing waves and the vibe with the crew was so good. Everyone was happy with how the trip ended up. Photographers got there shots, surfers got there barrels, but poor Ewan got his ear perforated. He was still as happy as us but.

If it wasn’t for that last session at the left, we would of been totally skunked. Sometimes it doesn’t matter what happens on the adventure. If your with a good crew, the good times keep rolling. Jokes still get told and smiles still appear on faces. 82 hrs and 2000km later i was finally back home in bed, sleep deprivation was about to become a thing of the past.

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VIDEO BY DAVE OTTO www.shipsterns.com

FRAME GRABS BY TIM BONYTHON
ALSO CHECK TIM’S VIDEOU OUT AT:

http://www.coastalwatch.com/news/article.aspx?articleId=9699&display=0&cateId=3&#ooid=o2d3Z4Mjp0qnKKHRD9yDajuFMU38z0iH

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WEdnesday mad session at stern. Full story coming tomorrow. Frame grab courtesy Tim Bonython

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All Photos Andy Chisholm

Its been a slow season down south, couple of big swells, mostly with shitty winds. At home we were getting itchy feet, but so were a couple of mates on the other side of the globe. Alex (Gray) and Chops (Nic Lamb) had been pumping emails back and fourth to me for months now. There motivation and thirst for shippies was something else. I wouldnt even have to check for swells, because as soon as a blob would even look remotely like it could produce, guaranteed either Chops or Alex (or both) would email me asking my thoughts. But Shipsterns isnt as forecast friendly as many other waves around the world.

The weather patterns can change in a split second (which happens nearly every swell), which is why each year theres always a couple of big swells me and my mates still get to surf by ourselves. It could be howling onshore (as predicted) and just after lunch a sea breeze would kick in creating light offshores. Or it can be predicted to be 40 knots southwest, but just as the sun comes up the winds will kick in with a land breeze and strong offshores will fan the crooked lumps of ocean for the early hours of the morning. These are the times where if you dont live there, you aint scoring it.

Over the months talking with the boys from the States, i mentioned these scenarios. So when this last swell began to appear the boys got there froth on. Conditions were far from looking ideal, but something in the weather pattern just got me excited. It was looking big, huge almost. If we could battle the 45 knot onshores on the jetskis, theres a chance we could ride some mammoth mutating lumps. The next day of the swell was also looking like it might provide with some small clean paddlers. So Al and Chops, frothing at the bit, booked there tickets, knowing full well it could be a complete hoax. I guess thats what i loved about these guys, they just wanted to come down and check out the place, the wilder the conditions the more exciting it sounded to them.

The day of the swell was exactly as forecast, 45 knots onshore. Alex jumped on the back of my ski, while Chops walked in with Treeks (filmer). That ride around to shippes was rediculous, the wind chop and backwash turned a 35 minute ride into one lasting almost an hour. Once around at the stern we were briefly disheartened, as it looked utterly disgraceful. Eight ft burgers were lapping over the reef, but due to the long period swell we still had hope there could be some bombs. And twenty minutes after we arrive we seen our first taste of what the day had in store for us. A solid 12ft plus nugget began deforming along the reef then blasting its insides out into the channel. I gave Alex the nod, which translated to, “it aint gonna get any better than this, so get ya arse in the water and lets get shit done”.

The next few hours the yanks proceeded to throw themselves over the ledge and into oblivion. Driving the ski was a task in itself, due to how windy and angry the ocean was, it was hard to get on a plane and get enough speed to get him on a wave. Once the rope had been dropped he would then have to negotiate the speed bumps even before he’d hit the first step. It was by far from ideal conditions to surf shippies for your first time. Alex ended up busting his arm on his last wipeout and although Chops didnt make this wave, he still got to stand tall in a shippies beast. Both surfers felt the power and fury this day and although it wasnt as big as hoped, it still got there hesarts racing. Local lad “wipeout mckean” got the bomb, living up to his name and took on a 15ft slab that he didnt have a chance on.

That night i took Alex into the hospital. The arm wasnt broke, but it wasnt in a good way. The doc gave him a script for pain relief and told him he would be out of the water for a good stint. Alex was devo’d, and tomorrow was starting to look the goods for some nice paddlers. We all walked in the next day. I love the walk, it means something to me as my friends and i did it for years on end when we first started surfing there, i guess it just brings back memories. Poor Alex’s arm was wrecked, there was no way he was surfing, but he still gave himself the benefit of the doubt and lugged his gear on the one hour walk in hope of the pain suddenly retreating.

Conditions were clean and the sky was sunny. The swell had dropped considerably, but we still had hope to get a couple. Once in the water after 2 hours of waiting for a good one, i began to realise things werent looking as good. The long breaks between sets would give your body plenty of time to feel hypothermic and we would find ourselves paddling in circles just to try stay warm. Only a few fun waves got ridden that day, but overall it gave the boys a taste of what the wave does. Rudi Schwartz got wave of the day with a super deep paddler. They experienced it at both ends of the scale, big and stormy, and small and clean. They also really appreciated how beautiful the place was and not once did they complain about the long travels, early starts and torturous walking tracks. They were troopers and earnt good respect from that.

The afternoon was spent in the sun downing brews and spinnin stories with the local lads. im sure Alex and Nic will be down again soon enough and with fingers crossed im sure there gonna score what they come down Tassie for……

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Photos mike Barber and Rob Warden http://robbiewarden.tumblr.com/

I first moved over to the Mornington Peninsula when i was 21. I made some good friends and the local beachies were great fun. But there was plenty of coastline that seemed unexplored and rarely surfed. All my friends were either working as tradies or at school, meaning most days i was chasing waves solo. All i wanted to do was surf, so i got a dish pig job at the local RSL working 6pm-1am 3-4 nights a week. Due to farming property lining most of the coastline, it wasnt easy to access waves and i’d usually end up walking for km’s over headlands in search of something new to surf. Although many of these treks ended in disappointment, there was one bay i came across that seemed to have more potential than the rest.

The wave bent around a rocky noel, blocking your view from on top of the hill, which made it look like it just pushed up onto dry rock. It wasnt until you walked down to the wave and seen it front on, that you could see it was rideable. Its the type of wave which you really have to be selective. Once you take off, by the time you start to bottom turn, you have a split second to decide whether the wave will go dry or let you pull in. The good thing about the place is no one surfs it and to my knowledge, my friends and i were the first ones.

After checking it for a few weeks and sussing what conditions it might work best in, I finally convinced a couple of mates, “Palmy” and “Wardo” that we need to hit this joint. So one day when the conditions looked good, we ventured over  and paddled out. It was pretty eerie, the local fisherman frequently encounter very large sharks in these parts. We struggled to find anything rideable, but ended up getting a coupla waves each and were just stoked to of ridden it. Since that day, ive surfed the place almost a dozen times over the last 6 years and only twice with another person out. These days there’s a very small posse of locals who get out there when the place lights up, but im still yet to bump into them in the lineup….

Last month things came together. I met up with my mate “Skeeta Derham” and old mate “Wardo” (who now shoots stills) and hit the trail . As we were getting changed old mate “Palmy” showed up for a look. It felt pretty surreal, the original crew plus “Skeet” and the wave looking very inviting. A few high fives got thrown around on the rocks then off the platform we jumped and into the lineup. Next hour and half was slow, but we got some pits and had heaps of fun. It’s a complete novelty wave, far from any quality and It wasnt the best ive surfed it, but it was definitely the most enjoyable session id had out there.

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All photos Dave Thomas, Bobby’s Camp “GLAND”
Land shot is of Shanza, water shot is of me, both pits at speedies section of Gland

Big south swell hits and i do what i say il never do, “follow the sheep and head somewhere super crowded”. But with calls like “looks like the best swell in over a decade” and “its gonna be 8ft freight trains”, plus its a wave that every surfer has to surf one day, how could i say NO to a nice easy trip to G-LAND.
A week after being in Bali, it was well and truly time to get out. Although it was heaps of fun chilling up at Canguu, living at the beach, hanging with good crew, eating great food and surfing fun beachies. Mix that in with a couple of nights in the heart of Kuta and losing a motorbike and G-land sounded like a great idea. My friend Shanza was flying over from oz the night before we were leaving, so i gave hime the deatails for the trip and he was on board frothing. His plan was simple. Land in Kuta 11pm, head to hotel, wake 530am, head to Gland. However it ended up going, land in kuta 11pm, check into hotel, head to strip, drink lots of arak, get to hotel at 445am, head to gland 530am hahaha.
The boat ride was an experience in itself. It was like we were on a special forces operation. 30 pro surfers (including Makua and Koa Rothman, Chalk, Dingo, Twiggy list goes on) and half as many photogs and filmers all descending on G land , all with the same thing in mind. While everyone scrambvled for the best seats for the 2 hour journey, Shanza scrambled to the toilet for the “dead man walking, i need to spew, passedoutwookie.com”.
We were staying at Bobby’s Surf Camp. Included with our accomodation was all meals and a few beers a day. The staff were great too and every afternoon was spent watching the sunset down the foreshore, sinking binnies, listening to tunes and talking riddles with some great people. The surf was pretty good, but because of the crowds, it was hard to get the good ones. You would take off on a 6-10ft outside peak known as launching pads, once it squared back onto the reef, you would pick your line through the down the line barrell section known as speedies.
By the end of the trip, even though i hadnt had what i was after in the way of memorable pits, the best times were the ones just chillin out meeting surfers from all over the world, watching the sunsets, punishing bintangs and beating Twiggy at pool hahaha (i was one shot away from pantsing him off the break).
Back to Canguu for some more chillout therapy with a fun sesh at Bingin thrown in and some great time spent with my friends Eddie and Claire who got married over there, CONGRATS guys..

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Indonesia is and always will be a paradise for surfers. Travel there in the months from May – October each year and you would be hard done by if you didnt get a barrell…
Nias has been on my to do list since i was a kid, so when a swell looked like it could offer some goods, i booked my ticket and started my jpourney to the island off North Sumatra. I was travelling with my mate Callum who decided to jump on the mission the night before i left. 35 hrs later we were stting in our accommodation at Lagundri Bay Happy Losmen (run by Rahel, local ripper) staring at the set up that enticed me into coming to this part of the world. The conditions were 4ft and light onshore, but the best day wasnt meant to be til the next arvo so after a solid feed and a couple of Binnies we hit the hay. Just before i nodded off, Cal says to me “Marti were gonna score pits i guarantee, i got a little spot up my sleeve”.
The next morning we wake to glassy conditions and the wave looking about 4-5ft. It really needed a stiff offshore to clean it up and we waited all day, but it only ever showed glimpses. It seems like the hardest part about scoring the wave is having those clean, groomed conditions. The swell started to pulse later in the arvo and while out surfing i bumped into my friends Mikala and Daniel Jones. They were on the same program as me, flying out here for the swell, hoping to get some great pits, but feeling a bit bummed about what we were getting. We decided if tomorrow wasnt any better, then we would hit the road and go in search, there were at least 50 plus surfers staying on the point, so anywhere uncrowded was a move forward in our minds.
On our second morning it was slightly bigger but still with that morning sickness feel to it. While watching the surf i bumped into a few of my booger mates from sydney.. Ewan Donnachie, Jem Cresswell and Jase Finlay. All seven of us had been checking this slab out that was round many corners for the last couple days and we all agreed today was the day we had the best chance of hitting it. It was a really intimidating set up, breaking at 6ft plus and right in front of dry coral ledge. There were two sections to it, with the end section being pretty much a closeout. Conditions werent in our favour, with a dropping swell, not many waves got ridden. But im defenitely hungry to hit it up next time. We said goodbye to the boogs, as they packed to head back to oz, while we planned the next part of our journey. Mikala and Daniel had had enough of Nias too, so Cal said it was time to pull out a couple of secrets.
We left Lagundri at 2 am the next morning. All i will say is, we had to use cars, boats , bikes and local villagers to get there. One night we stayed at the dirtiest hotel known to mankind. It was like thee ones you see in the movies. There was no air con or fans, it smelt like shit, was next to a mozzie infested stream of sewage that flowed threough the village and the beds had rat shit all over them. But it was all worth it the next day, when we finally found what we were looking for. Sure it wasnt 10ft flawless freight trains, but all we werew after was some nice clean pits in an area thats untapped, knowing your one in only a handful of surfers to have scored the joint, and its just you and your friends out. The next two days were spent trading 4ft flat bottom slabs and getting spat out of every wave. It was so glassy, as you were taking off you could see every inch of the razor sharp reef. Both Mikala and myself got up close with the bottom and came out with some nice free tattoos to the shape of claw marks all over our bodies. We were all so stoked Cal had shown us his little paradise, it definitely made our trip.
With more swells on thew horizon, i decided to head back to Bali to catch up with crew and refuel for the next mission…

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Cape Circus from Josh househam on Vimeo.

All photos Ben Newman. Vids by Josh Househam and Darran Franks

The east coast of oz has been going crazy this winter and last weekend i ventured up to Sydney to try duck under a few slabbing lips…
My friend Benny Newman picked me up from the airport with his mate Daz. They were super hung over from a big Saturday night, but were keen as to head over to Cape Solander to take some shots and shoot a few clips. We arrived into the car park at “OURS” and it was by far the most crowded i’d ever seen the arena there. Storm Surfers were shooting there stuff with RCJ and Tommy Carroll and the usual locals were out there getting amongst it. But for how many people that were watching the action, the lineup was pretty uncrowded. Throughout the day there were only a handful of people paddling (sometimes no one) and 2-3 crew towing..
I paddled a few waves to warm up, then “Bones” came over to whip me in. On my first wave it was a bomb, i hadnt really towed “ours” before, so i was a bit sketchy and how to approach it. Ended up hitting the step on take off thinking i had it in the bag, however when i landed my board stopped dead and i proceeded to face plant and get sucked over slamming into the bottom.
It was really slow all day, but when the good ones came it was great. The arvo glassed off and the swell got cleaner and we had an amazing session trading waves with Chalk, Dingo, Bones, Roo and Dom.
I was staying at Dingo’s pad that he shares with Parramatta Eels legend Reni Maitua Fuimaono and Ren’s girlfriend Nat. They were the best hosts ever and during the time i was staying there i met some really great people. Ren’s pad is just behind the beach with a full view of the coastline and the kid surfs pretty damn good too.
Dingo was being his usual self, waking up an hour before dark frothing for surf, we head round to Chalks and wake him, then load the bus for a mish down south. The waves weren’t as good as we had hoped, but we still had heaps of fun pulling into 4-5ft spitting rights and no one else around.
Overall was a great trip with good crew, fun waves and great food. Was great hangin in Maroubra and meeting the people and surfers that make up there community. Cheers everyone that i met and thanks for the hospitality…And big thanks to Reni and Nat and Dingo for lettin my crash at there joint, Bones for whippin me into some nuggs and Chalk for taking me surfing….

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