Feedzilla

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Hangin' in Newport Beach

Newport Beach is made of opposing pieces, sewn together like Dr. Frankenstein’s monster. Crusty old surfers carry sun-yellowed boards down the beach searching for waves, while affluent housewives lay on the sand in a Xanax-induced haze, killing time between collagen injections. With the amount of exposure Newport receives, and the fact that it has more pro surfers per capita than anywhere else on earth, you might expect consistently good waves—but you’d only be half right. There’s usually something to ride in front of the thousands of vacation rentals lining the coast between Crystal Cove and the Del Mar River Jetties, but paddling out will seldom be a life-changing experience. The surf industry loves Newport because it is the industry’s playground. When evenings run late, you’re seldom concerned with the surf at sunrise.
Alex Knost chugs through his hometown in a mildly-creepy van, scouring the coast for waves in the early hours, and always with interesting (and often self-shaped) crafts in tow. On this particular summer morning, I met up with Alex and fellow log-master Jared Mell in the parking lot at Blackie’s. It was mid-morning and the lifeguards were perched like dubious sentries—megaphones in their hands, and a desire to blackball in their hearts. In an hour the ocean would be overrun with inland adventurers and kids with neon water wings.
The scene was typical for this time of year in Newport: slightly bumpy, mostly gutless rights and lefts with a fair amount of people bobbing through the lineup, vaguely interested in their present activity. But therein lies the advantage to riding a single-fin plank. Alex and Jared split peaks, sliding their logs over flat sections like cubes of butter across hot frying pans. They’re stylish nearly to the point of parody, but were clearly having the best time of anyone in the lineup. Alex stood up on a wave, cross-stepped to the nose, turned around and hung his heels over, before nimbly moving back to the tail and whipping a smooth carve. Jared did one better than a fin-first takeoff, stroking backwards on his stomach into a left-hander with his feet toward the beach. He stood up as the board rotated and kept complete control as he spun around and started his line.
The piercing distortion of a lifeguard’s megaphone ended our session, and sent us off in pursuit of lunch. We went to Mother’s Market in Costa Mesa where we were joined by several of Al and Jared’s friends. It was health-conscious fare, where organic sprouts and kale-infused smoothies abound. We left with the intention of a second session, but the wind had picked up and what was playful mediocrity an hour before had mutated into full-blown dog shit.
Luckily, a foolproof coping mechanism came to mind, and we headed to a local pub for a few pitchers of Sierra Nevada, and discussed the best way to kill time in the Newport area.
Waves:
Although Newport is most consistent during the winter, its exposure to both north and south swells means there are usually rideable waves somewhere year-round. “I usually surf in front of Ford [Archbold]’s house, at River Jetties,” says Alex. “The shape isn’t necessarily as good as 54th Street, so, if you’re reading this, you probably don’t want to go there. There are less people at River Jetties, but it also gets really swamped out with the high tide. It gets too high tide for people to ride your average shortboard, but it works out pretty good for flat rockers and single fins—you can surf through the high tide and it won’t be as crowded. It’s a little more closed out at River Jetties, but there’s more face, so it’s easier to ride bigger boards, whereas 54th street has such a compressed take-off spot. So, if you’re riding bigger boards, you can’t help to feel some sort of an inconvenience. I usually surf River Jetties or Newport Point. Newport Point gets really good, but it’s probably the least consistent wave, in terms of getting it really good. If there’s wind swell, Newport is kind of the place to be in some weird way. You surf a lot of other areas that are really nice during long-period swells, but Newport gets pretty closed-out on those. Wind swell helps break it up and make it peaky.”
Sustenance:
Newport and Costa Mesa are joined at the hip, and between the two there are more quaint cafés than you can shake a vegan scone at. “I go to Mother’s after surfing usually. They have good food, and I have friends that work there, so it’s nice to visit them. The food there seems to give you a little bit more momentum for the rest of the day, rather than eating a giant burrito that puts the day on hold—you don’t really feel like doing much of anything after that. Mother’s has some food that gives you some fuel. It’s more like food and less like eating, you know? But there’s also lots of like really nice coffee shops. Alta down in Newport is pretty good. If you want to stay near the beach, they opened up a couple of expensive spots, but then there’s also really cheap donut places, which are nice for coffee, bananas, bran muffins, and stuff like that.”
After Hours:
Anyone who has ever spent a weekend in Newport will tell you that it’s a town that loves its booze. Alex is an early-riser, but he knows where to find a good time after the sun goes down. “I like going to Blackie’s, just because that’s where my Dad goes,” says Alex. “But if you’re looking for the nightlife action, it’s probably not there. Jared loves going to Cassidy’s. I live in Costa Mesa so I tend to go out up the hill and see live music. Avalon bar has really great live bands that come through there. I think that’s probably the easiest and they have cheap drinks—like one- or two-dollar Pabst. There’s a pool hall down the street here in Costa Mesa, on 19th street, called Games Plus. They have two-dollar Tecate Tuesdays, and they’ve got tons of pool tables, so that kind of makes for a nice social time.”

Saturday, August 18, 2012

Billabong Pro Tahiti 2012


Miguel Pupo needed a near-perfect heat to advance past Yadin Nicol into Round 3. Photo: ASP/Kirstin
It’s Friday afternoon in Tahiti and, like on building sites all across the world, next door the work has stopped and tools have been set down and beers are being drunk. The scene doesn’t look dissimilar to how it did at lunchtime, the Tahitians never likely to rival the Japanese for efficiency, however after a week of toil the cinder block shell of a dwelling stands and the stout men who put it there toast the achievement.
Workmen of another kind meanwhile are laboring out on the reefs in front of the village, workmen with soft hands but hearts hardened by their adventures on the same reef last year. After a lazy opening day, the Billabong Pro Tahiti notched up a gear or two today. With man-on-man heats beginning and the sword of Damocles hanging above them, a trip back to Faa’a International Airport awaiting the losers, things got a little spritzier out on the reef. It doesn’t seem fair to dispatch anyone from this sylvan paradise after only two days, but the forecast is a demanding mistress and the forecast here is demanding heats are run before this lick of southwest swell fades away. Today heats were won and heats were lost and the fine line between winning and losing, barely the thickness of a cigarette paper, was made patently clear.
Losing after scoring a perfect 10 takes a special skill, and Kai Otton has it. At this event last year, he opened his heat against Matt Wilkinson with a perfect 10. He then, somehow, conjured a way to lose after being unable to find a three-point backup score in half an hour of surfing. It still haunts him. “That was pretty much rock bottom for me,” he recalls. “Melling (Kai’s roommate in Tahiti who he’s christened Prince Joffrey after watching Game of Thrones together) still laughs at how sour I was after that. That was pretty shocking cause I needed a result at that time and it was the first wave of the heat so I had 30 minutes to find a three and I just couldn’t. I raced home, packed my boards as fast as anyone has ever packed a boardbag, and drove straight to the airport. I was straight out of there.” The thing with Teahupoo is that the dark, deep waters beyond the break—as deep as the mountains behind the village are high—have the ability to deliver a Hail Mary or a left hook, depending on who gets it. “It’s never over out there,” offers Kai. “It never is. Someone can turn around and get two nines in two minutes cause it’s a 30 second paddle out, and the wave is coming out of deep water so you never know what’s going to show itself.”
Kai lost here last year, and perfected the skill of losing with a perfect score when he did it again just two months later in Portugal, opening with a 9.97 against Julian Wilson before capitulating in a bad dream, one where you’re being chased by a malevolent pursuer but are running in honey. The two losses developed a special form of neurosis in Otto which results in sweating whenever he scores anything above a 9.5. I Google searched “perfection phobia” but no such condition exists, so Otto’s condition I believe is unique. Today against Travis Logie, Otto had flashbacks of last year when he opened with a 9.43, before again searching for a backup score that he just couldn’t find. “To be honest I didn’t think about it, I just tried to better a score. It took me about an hour, but I did eventually.”
Do you sometimes ever wonder why a large finger will occasionally point down from the clouds Monty Python style and touch one surfer on the crown of the head, a guy who will proceed to surf with divine mojo and wheelbarrows of good fortune, while the other guy is left living in a cardboard box? The heat where the paper-thin line between winning and losing was made patently clear today by featured Tour rookies Miguel Pupo and Yadin Nicol. Yadin came into Tahiti after an unlucky year. He’d lost in the second round in Fiji to Gabriel Medina, who opened the heat with a perfect 10 and, unlike Otto, had no problems backing it up. This morning had been slow, and so when Yadin opened with an 8.67 his fortunes looked to have turned. Queue the finger from Heaven touching Miggy Pupes on his young and wooly Brazilian noggin, followed immediately by three waves all topping nine-point scores. It was orchestral. Yadin lost with a heat score that would have won every other heat, and he was last seen headed north in the general direction of the airport in Papeete. “I got out there to see one of Yadin’s eight point rides and one of Miguel’s nines,” says Otto. “I know it’s Yadin’s first year and it’s just one of those things. I remember my first year; I started good but went shocking after. He can turn it around.”
Tomorrow the third round is likely to run. At dark here at Teahupoo, there is still enough juice in the swell to get it done if it can prevail through the night. Heats to note include two that have overtones of retribution. Mick Fanning has Fred Patacchia in the first heat of the round, a replay of a Round Three heat last year that effectively ended any chance Mick Fanning had at a third World Title. Joel Parkinson meanwhile has Taylor Knox, who beat him in 2009 and started the rot that would eventually cost Parko a first World Title. The Owen Wright/Miggy Pupes, Damo Hobgood/Josh Kerr, and Kelly Slater/Ricardo dos Santos heats all hold mondo interest, while Kai Otton has drawn good mate, Taj Burrow. If Otto opens with a 10, go to the fridge, grab a beer and sit down, because the following 20 minutes will be entertaining one way or another.