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Kelly Slater: Greatest Athlete Of All Time?

It is common knowledge among our tribe that June 20th is recognized as International Surfing Day so who better to celebrate then Kelly Slater, 11X ASP World Champion. In the spirit of ISD, we’ve created an Infographic comparing Slater to athletes from traditional sports who have made history and measured their achievements to our Champ’s. Have a look and decide for yourself if Slater truly is “The Greatest Athlete of All Time”.

A taste of the good things to come...

Surfers used to be great travellers, but we’ve become soft. Where 10 day boat trips and surgical strikes are becoming the norm in packaged surf tourism, Matt Rott rebels and dives head first into the cultural chaos and coastal beauty of India. In so doing he reminds us that travel and tourism are not necessarily the same thing and opens our eyes to the travel potential that surrounds us if we just open ourselves to the opportunities.

Talk about literally living and breathing the surfing lifestyle! Gideon Malherbe’s unbelievable journey to The Forbidden Islands in the middle of the Pacific Ocean is made more poignant but fact that he did it with his young family in tow. It is an inspirational example to us all that the dream adventure can become real if we have the courage to reach out and grab it.

Winter is a time when real surfers get busy and the posers vanish with the plummeting barometers. Terry Fitzgerald, known for his poetic approach to surfing Supertubes in the 70’s and a man who has certainly experienced his fair share of winters reflects on the value of winter to every real surfer in his essay ‘The Cold Heart of Surfing’.

Lance Slabbert has gone so deep under cover in Bali we thought we’d lost him forever. He’s not just embedded anymore, watching with his camera. He’s crossed over.  At this point we’d call it a full immersion.  Using the space and freedom of Bali and Indonesia as his laboratory, Lance questions where waves come from and what happens at that magical moment when they break. ‘Observations From Below’ is a visual and philosophical feast that reminds us of the simplicity and beauty of surfing.

If you think it’s all been discovered and there is no room left to explore, think again. Tim Nunn takes us on a journey off the coast of Scottland to the remote, wild and windswept islands in the north Atlantic. Tim’s endeavour shows us that beautiful perfection is out there in so many different places we haven’t even begun to think about yet and that it is just waiting for us to go out there and find it.


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Ok looking at the extended webcast things looked super gnarly as they ran those last couple of heats. The ocean clearly looked like it was overpowering the top 32 and from a spectators POV it looked like it was the right call to put the contest on hold. BOOM, then up pop like 15 of the best big wave riders in the world on big solid boards and the charging begins. To be fair to the 32 it did look like the local surface conditions improved but if anything it got bigger. So explain to our readers what was going through your head when you decided to drop everything and fly to Fiji, you must be sooo stoked they didn't run the event and you guys got to surf that historic session, please tell us how did it all go down?

 I am at a bit of a loss for words at the moment John, I took a big chance at coming over to Fiji as it used up my entire years travel budget in one trip but after what I saw last year at Cloudbreak and because it's my life's passion to surf the biggest barrels I can find I just couldn't bare to miss an opportunity to surf 15-20ft tubes at one of the only surf spots on earth that hold waves like that. So I took a chance and went and the rest is history. I just got back to California today (it was cheaper to fly the long way around via Dubai) and surfed Cloubreak for three more days at 6-10ft with hardly anyone out and would have paid any amount of money to have had that experience. It's hands down the best big wave in the world and I know I say this way to often but I just had the best waves of my life. 

Ramon Navarro and Reef McIntosh both got sick, crazy tubes, the one that you got around 4:45 on the vid was MENTAL! please talk us through that wave from start to finish, bru I know you're a loon but seriously, what if anything was going through your mind on that wave?. (If you didn't check it - live.redbull.tv/events/94/volcomproday3/#)

Well to tell you the truth in sessions like these it's all about patience and perseverance and trusting your judgement and experience. I would say that at a skill level my backhand is only about 50% compared to my forehand just because of my lack of experience in big lefts compared to rights so I really waited and chose my waves carefully all day. I had a crazy double up barrel early in the morning that was around 12-15ft and ran the whole length of the reef and that set me up nicely for the rest of the day as I could relax and enjoy the session from there. I then had a few nice big pocket rides that I picked up half way down the reef as well as two bad wipeouts when the wind picked up at a devils angle. It looked really clean out there but in fact the whole day had these crazy ribs going up the face and every wave was a bucking bronco ride from start to finish.

At around 2-3pm the wind clocked a little more offshore and I decided to push up the reef a bit more and see if i could try and make one from behind the first section and through the main bowl as every now and again these mammoth sets would come roaring down the reef and Greg and I talked about trying one out just to see if it was makable?

As soon as we paddled up there that wave came through! Just a full double up 18ft swell with not a drop of water out of place and I had to go. The takeoff was late but I managed to set my rail and get off the bottom before the main bowl but at the same time I could see if I wanted to make it I had to pull up really high on the face to avoid the shock wave and be able to gather speed to run down and out through the bowl. At one point I was so high on the face I thought I would loose it but then it just started funneling down the reef and took me along for the ride. I held on for dear life and felt it spit and then slow down and the next thing I know I can relax and take in the view of the biggest, most perfect barrel you could ever imagine.

What were you riding? That board looked solid and seemed to do what it should have in all the right places?

I was on a thick, wide Twig Model 8'0" that I designed for big barreling waves like Puerto, Bayview and some of the new waves we have found up the West Coast. It went insane and even though most of the guys where on 9'0" - 11'0"'s I felt super comfortable and felt that I probably would have not made my three best barrels if I had a bigger board because of how technical they where? I would like to thank Simon Fish for my boards this year, he is an amazing shaper and I really stoked to be riding his boards.

OK so you have the best swell in history for an asp world tour event and they call the event off... the big waves guys take over and shoulder their highly paid tour compatriots out of the way and take advantage of the conditions. Were there any of the top 32 who impressed you on that day? 

John John...He was the only one really giving it a go and he is and will be the man for the foreseeable future. 

In defense of the rest of the WCT guys, we are used to these types of waves and the equipment required to ride them and it's almost impossible to suddenly jump on a 9ft board and surf a 15 - 20ft wave. They are all totally prepared physically and there is no question about there ability but when the waves get like this it's all about your mind and mentally it's such a hard thing to do because the consequences are so sever. 

The fact that it was webcast live and that the best big wave guys in the world where there to finally show off what we can do in waves of consequence was amazing for us and the sport. The WCT is one thing and those guys are incredible at what they do but I think now more people understand how good the top big wave guys are at what they do and that they are on a very similar level, skill wise, as anyone on the WCT tour?

Like a top WCT World Title contender said to me afterwards "Who really is the best surfer in the world, Kelly Slater or Mark Healy"? And I think that says a lot about what went down this week?

Eish Twig, well done brother, what a ride!

Thanks John, I'm not sure what to do next....

Team Zulu - 2012

The hangover … SA Champs 2012

Where do I start?

9 days ago, I ventured forth on a journey to the annual SA Champs held down in Cape Town. The crew leaving the bay (Richards Bay) was tight knit, “Oupa” Mic was to navigate the team in his trusty caddy to our destination, while Vaughan “Gangsta” Weyer provided entertainment and I look forwarded to my best result to date.

We needed to klap a onetime detour to collect, the infamous south coast lighty Davey Gouws. For a guy that talks a lot of game, he looked pretty freaked out at Durban station all by himself when we eventually arrived.

White fisted and clutching every item that he owned tightly against his weedy frame, this youngster sure looked pretty happy to see a bunch of guys that were dropping phrases such as “putty rubs” and “zulu initiations” for the last couple days via text messages.

Blazing our way down the highways of Southern Africa, riding a wave of excitement and anticipation, our trusty surf van zigzagged across the countries landscape. As the temperature dropped, and our altitude increased, I could swear that it sometimes mistier in the car than out on the road.

Mic and I exchanged navigating the van in shifts. In the early hours of the morning, I crashed out leaving the two merry men (Vaughan & Mic) in control. The plan was to do a straight shoot, from Richards Bay via Bloem and all the way through to Cape Town.

The view from within the magic surf van

Sleep barely embraced me, although I can’t account for the time that past. All I know is that I awoke to a conversation between Mic and Vaughan, both amping in the dark looking through the windscreen as dawn approached.

WTF!

Vaughan and Mic, had decided during my time lapse that J-Bay sounded like a better bet and changed course once they hit Bloem. We had just missed an epic swell run, but St Francis had a couple funs ones as the sun crept over the horizon.

Frothing, the team put on our new suits. Each one of us had their own story as to how we had got these suits. Each a fine piece of equipment, a performance skin if you will, well except Vaughans.

Vaughan had been swindled. He had a Chinese “burn” suit. It made him look like the Oros man, with white and black patches. The seams were all wrong, it let all the water in at all the wrong places and didn’t go down to well with any of the onlookers.

Worlds worst wetsuit After a fun session, we shot down to Still Bay and met up with our mate Hanco, whom runs the Garage Surf Shop. What a classic guy. He welcomed us home, put on the braai and provided much needed beers. The next day after checking out some of the local spots, we got on the road. Meeting up with the rest of the Zulu team, we had a quick afternoon session down at Witsands and were pleasantly surprised by the water temperature. Well everyone except Oupa Mic. That evening, the Zulu’s looked Don arriving in our tradition turquoise and black team kit. You could feel the eyes on us as we entered the Kommetjie Primary School hall. I think some people must have thought that the zulu team had really turned a new leaf, that we had let go of our traditions and taken a metamorphic transition into what look like a well run team. The team looked solid, I was pumped and so the event started. Team Huddle   For the next 48 hours I had the opportunity to surf all my heats in 1ft low tide onshore long beach. That’s pretty much all I have to say on that point. Brutalised, depressed and left feeling “unfinished” we headed to the bar. 2nd round exists are never cool, and so the 24 draughts of Stella flowed. At one stage a heated debate and argument broke out between us. Girlfriends phoned in worried, as one of our phones had taken a call and all that could be heard where drunken slurs and bad language. At one point a group of local youngsters actually handed us a draught and wished us all the best and left the bar, I think it was probably due to our festivities. It was tragic. Barely making it home along the coastal road back to Scarborough we spotted the SKZN junior house. This is where Davey Gouws and the rest of the underlings were staying for the duration of the contest. Brave on beer, and in fine tradition we took it upon ourselves to redecorate their place for them while they slept. Toilet paper accessorised the roof and fencing, while nicely drawn language and remarks were left on their windows with our newly purchased cold water wax. I believe  a creepy from the pool was also found on the road outside the establishment the next morning.   For the next 2 days we watched as the rest of the Zulu’s were massacred in dribble.    Saturday evening came along. With that, news that our surf caddy had been the scene of a horrible crime. Apparently one of the guys had given a local “coloured” guy a lift being the friendly zululander that he was, only to realise much later on during the day that items from the vehicle had been slicked as part of the transport levy. With tears in their eyes, Mic and Vaughan confessed their ignorance and told me how they even went back and found this guys mom in an attempt to retrieve the wallet. I’m sure the little old coloured women was thinking “are you guys for real?”. It now was all on me, to ensure that Mic, Vaughan and Davey were catered for financially until we got back. Getting a little anxious and annoyed, I started feeling the need to get back home and told the boys not to worry they could sort me out when we got back. We watched as the last Zulu fell on the final day. Philip Nel put on a gusty performance as a first time zulu and what a classic guy. Much respect for paddling through the gnarly misty cliff set that bombarded him in his heat. So battered and bruised, we packed the car and started making our way back. Again the plan was to shoot straight from Cape Town, along the N1 via Bloem and then back down towards Durban. I could taste the humid air of zululand already. A quick stop at a petrol station, to fill up and meet up with Hanco were in order before we left. We said our good bye, and prepared to get on the road when Mic dropped the line “now whatever you do Mal, don’t lose your wallet”. WTF! In and amongst all the chaos, I somehow managed to leave all my valuables on Hanco’s car roof. He was gone now, leaving us with no money and very little hope. In vain, we ran along the road desperate to locate my wallet. I am a man of faith, and obviously the man upstairs has a sense of humour because as we all started to breakdown emotional Mic’s phone rang. It was the little old coloured lady, she had Mic’s wallet. With what fuel we had left, we turned around and drove back 45mins towards Kommetjie. We ended up, picking up a rasta dude with a tattoo on his forehead. Charming young man. As we bobbed and weaved through the township in our caddy and trailer, we eventually arrived at the predetermined location. A bit of hussling, R40 donation to the charming young man with a tattoo on his forehead and we were back in action. This time, Mic would be the financial aid that got us home. We shot straight from there to the local mall to withdraw funds and get back on the road. Mic hit the ATM while we all hangout in the car celebrating our new found victory. WTF! Mic returned, without a card as the ATM had now swallowed his card. Johannes Loubser, ex Zululander, now Capetonian spiritual lawyer hippie invited us to stay with him in Kleimond at his family’s house for the evening. At least we could rest up and hit the banks in the morning. The loubser family house in Kleinmond is truly beautiful and it oozes family tradition and history. With no real proof of identification, and no phone, Absa weren’t able to assist me. Mic was able to access some funds in a limited way but things still looked pretty grim. A quick message to my boss, explaining in 140 characters my drama, stirred a simple response “waves must good”. But wait what is this. A mate is willing to pay us R800.00 to transport his newly bought puppy from Mossel Bay to Richards Bay. That’s us! Wishing J-Lo all the best and thanking him for his hospitality we set off once again with regained strength and faith. We absolutely missed the puppy guy, got lost, got found, collected the pup, hit the road, drove 22 hours and eventually rolled into the bay absolutely finished. Would I do it again … absolutely!