If Clay Marzo calls it heavy, you can probably stop the argument there. Less like a surf spot and more like a badly considered meeting with a rocky shelf, with mutant shorebreak detonating over what appears to be about three feet of margin for error. Marzo, naturally, treats it like an invitation. Heavy drops, freakish lines and that trademark Marzo looseness — graceful, committed and slightly unhinged. The kind of session that has the comments section reaching for words like “nuts” and “bloody good leash.”
Hit play and pull in.
