FAST TRACKS

Who was the first surfer? What drove them to stand on a plank hurtling shoreward? The first woman, or perhaps even a man, bored of the prone belly-boarding frolics on rough-hewn wood or reed craft* decided to say ‘hold my beer’ one day and stand up. Which leads to the obvious point: at that moment in history they were the only surfer. Can you imagine the reaction?
“What the?”
“Mabel, what the fork are you doing? We’re riding the waves not walking on water! Get down right now! It’s ungainly, and possibly an insult to whichever deity we currently believe controls the sea.”
Change is always regarded with suspicion. Boards getting shorter, fins going from one to three, performance going into the air, surfing becoming mainstream. For a supposed counterculture surfing can be deeply conservative when forced in a new direction. So the prone to standing paradigm shift must have been a doozy. Campfire gossip about this new fangled way of riding the ocean-going rollers must’ve been heated. Will it catch on? Is it an insult to the proud culture of flopping around on belly boards? What happens next? Is it too damn hard? And how the hell do you decide which foot goes forward? The forethought and skill to ride a board carved out of a log (or bundled reeds) with stone tools would’ve been immense; especially as it was pure recreation. Our ancestors engaged in finding food, shelter and safety. Leisure time wasn’t a consideration. So surfing was one of the early, selfish for sure, hobbies or pastimes. “Can’t believe he’s riding the breakers again instead of tending the crops or hunting boars!” Maybe this is why the Easter Island culture failed. Chopped down all the trees to make kick-ass big olos to shred the gnar didn’t they? We are, of course, far removed from such matters. Change still happens. We can never put the genie back in the lamp. ‘Unspoilt by progress’ is a slogan merely on antique mirrors in old-school pubs. We are the now. The latest, greatest, best boards and suits are available at the mere press of a pocket computer. We can surf anywhere in the world if we have enough green in the bank. But some things don’t change, that first time you stand up on a surfboard the thrill echoes through the ages. ‘I am walking on water! I am a surfing god!’ Albeit briefly. But those few seconds of the first successful stand are priceless. Not to mention the transformational moment you go from being someone interested in surfing to being a surfer.
If you’ve been with us for years, thank you, if you’ve just started your surfing journey, welcome to the crew.

Now go get wet.

Sharpy

Editor

*The jury is still out on who the first surfers were, the Polynesians on their carved wooden craft or the Peruvians and their reed-based goat boats. It’s kind of nice not to know. Imagine if we knew who the first surfer was and they were an utter douchebag?

UNSPOILT BY PROGRESS

You will surely agree that Kelly’s Californian water feature is a marvellous feat of engineering. An excellent example of taking a first world problem and applying a Damonesque “I’m going to have to science the shit out of this” work ethic to its solution.
No one will argue the fact that the Surf Ranch produces the most exceptional human-made wave is without a doubt.  We’ve covered the rise of the machines in the pages of the magazine. These contraptions are newsworthy, fascinating and if you get the chance at a slide in a lake fun as hell. But are they the future? Are they the future we want? I couldn’t even bring myself to watch much of WSL Surf Ranch Pro. Witnessing minutes of my life steadily disappear while waiting for the machine to reset was painful. No surveying the horizon for sets, no wonder as to what curveballs nature would throw in the heat. Just painful predictability and repetitive surfing. The words ‘sterile’ and ‘boring’ kept flashing in my mind’s eye in giant neon letters. Surf comps work because they’re a gladiatorial battle. The person vs person dynamic is vital. The dance of randomness provided by an oceanic canvas keeps it interesting. There are no buzzer beaters, paddle battles or sporting drama in the pool. A four-day event is worse than flipping cricket. No sport needs to last four days of repetition, especially with waves literally at the press of a button. Surf comps aren’t fair. The ocean does not care what score anyone needs. It’s this capriciousness that keeps us on our toes.  The pool’s only advantage is you can say the comp will start bang on the dot Saturday morning at 8:30. It’s a good time keeper, a level playing field. As long as you don’t need a scoring left. It doesn’t satisfy the building performance level of snowboard and skate jam style comps where the excitement is palpable either. Non-snowboarders get the halfpipe comp in the Olympics. It’s fast, frenetic and exciting. Not like watching paint dry. The WSL doesn’t need to make surfing more popular. It needs to excite the folks that do it already. Of course, surfing competition means not a jot to most of you. The bulk of you won’t have ever competed or have the slightest interest in it. I’ll wager a lot of you don’t even watch the world tour either, which is fine. We surf because it enriches our souls. It’s fun. Being out in the sea is beneficial for you in so many ways. The pools won’t ever replace the ocean. One day we might look back on this era as an expensive cul-de-sac in surfing’s rich history, the possible fork in the timeline when pro surfing competitions jumped the shark into irrelevance. The waves will keep on coming without mechanical assistance in the salty realm. We will continue to seek solace and spiritual connection to the good earth in their briny embrace. When they can reproduce Cloudbreak in a tank maybe then I’ll change my mind.

Sharpy

Editor