Heavy Water Thoughts

Back in July, Australia's East Coast was hit by a long period south swell. It wasn’t an exceptional winter for waves, but the season was punctuated by a couple of belters and this swell was one of them. For days the swell hovered in the ten-to-fifteen feet mark, but the onshore winds drove everyone into protected corners.

On the fourth day of the swell the wind turned offshore, and, putting old habits aside, I drove past the local and paddled out at a reefbreak thirty minutes further south. To call it one of the better waves in the region is to undersell it as it’s one of the better waves in the country, and it’s also one of the heaviest.

It’d been a long time since I surfed the wave and in the intervening years the place had changed a lot. Obviously the wave itself was the same, it broke with the same shocking fury over the same shallow rock platform, but the difference was the crowd.

Yeah, the numbers had swelled, that’s hardly surprising, they’ve done so everywhere, but the truly startling thing was just how many surfers were willing to step up and have a go. Not just the old TOADS either - you know, Take Off And Die Syndrome - the courage on display was equalled by a level of skill that left little room for those hesitating on the fringes.

That gave me a lot of time to watch and think.

In Swellnet’s coverage of pro surfing it’s hard to ignore Australia’s dwindling success compared to the period 1976 to 2010. During those 35 years, Aussie men - the same comparison doesn’t apply to the women - traditionally made up around half the top tier tour. In 1980 Australian surfers comprised 10 of the Top 16, when the tour split in 1993 it was 23 of the Top 44, and in 2010 we had 21 of the Top 44.

This year, Australia had just 6 surfers in the Top 34. There’s been many reasons forwarded to explain our lack of competitive success: our juniors aren’t as hungry, they’re too spoiled, we’ve turned to lifestylers on mid-lengths. I can’t explain the change and I don’t think anyone can, however if our results are dipping in contests, it’s not reflected in performance levels at slabs.

You don’t need to paddle out to a slab to understand this. Just tune into any of the recent Deadmans videos, or any from The Right, or perhaps Tim Bonython’s YouTube channel, and you’ll see surfers operating at the frontiers of human performance, and not just a special few but lots of them. The talent pool runs deep.

What used to be lonely waves visited by hard-charging travellers soon became hothouses for local talent. Shipsterns Bluff is a classic case: Once a plaything for East Coast visitors it became a testing ground for a generation of wild Tasmanians, who, by virtue of proximity and regularity, began surfing it better than anyone. Mikey Brennan, over the steps and into the void (Lance Morgan)

When it comes to slab surfing, Australia has a comparative advantage. Owing to favourable geology, no other country comes close to the number of top heavy waves that break on our shores. It goes without saying that slabs are notoriously hard to ride, so regular access has created a talent pool that’s also unlike any other country.

Wherever the geology lends itself to slabs, so too do local surfers lean towards that style of surfing. Western Australia is a classic example. With numerous limestone slabs across the Capes region, and even more across the southern granite belt, WA may have the per capita record for heavy water surfers. If we’re making comparisons, the same can’t be said of their capacity to produce contest surfers. Of the men, only Taj Burrow, Jack Robinson, and perhaps Jacob Willcox, have left any sort of impression in that regard. What that also means is that there’s little sponsorship money flowing around in the west. If you wanna chase waves you’d better do it off your own bat.

Dave Bowden is an archetypal WA surfer. A classic underground charger. When I call him he’s on site and takes a few minutes off to chat with me. Dave can do that as he answers to no-one. “I work for myself and run my own team, “ says Dave, going on to explain the benefits extend beyond taking time out to speak on the phone. “If there’s a swell at The Right or Cows we just down tools and go for it. No more work that day.”

Five years ago, I interviewed a bunch of professional big wave surfers about The Right with at least two of them, both in their physical peak, wondering if it was even worth it, such is the intensity of a wave many consider the world’s heaviest slab. If there’s any such trepidation from Dave, he doesn’t show it as he casually describes how he worked his way up from the reefs around Margaret River to arrive at The Right.

Like many other Western Australian surfers, Dave’s never surfed a heat in his life but always gravitated towards heavier waves. Yet while most reach a limit - a point beyond which they’re not comfortable passing - Dave and his brother Ben just kept on going till they were out at The Right alongside notorious hard-charging locals like Chris Ross, Brad Norris, and Chris Shanahan. He reckons he’s been surfing it for twelve years now.

There can be no doubt that a big day at The Right includes surfing that, by any measure, is world class: the reaction times needed, the mental calmness, the sheer courage on display. Yet despite my questioning, Dave won’t be drawn when I suggest that skillset puts him, and all of the surfers at The Right, into a special class of surfer.

“Maybe,” is Dave’s hesitant and not-at-all convincing answer. He’s much more comfortable when I steer the conversation towards the younger crew. All the aforementioned surfers were in their twenties when The Right was discovered so despite being local, they came to it late. “Ollie Henry has been getting some great ones,” explains Dave. “Ned Hart too. There’s a few new faces turning up and getting the odd sick one.”

“In the next few years,” says Dave, indicating the young WA crew who are gathering experience from a young age, “we’re going to see some incredible surfing out there.”

The magic hour aesthetics are a distraction from the real knockout punch in this shot: Dave Bowden going the double arm drag at the base of an absurdly proportioned wave (Ren McGann)

“I think a lot of surfers really benefit from surfing The Right,” says Ben Rufus, yet he’s not necessarily talking about their physical health. Ben lives locally, shapes many of the boards ridden at The Right, so he knows a lot of the crew. I’d rung Ben and asked some other questions about slab surfing but this answer fascinated me.

“When you take off on a wave at The Right, you can’t be thinking about anything else. So it silences your mind,” explains Ben, “It’s a bit of a generalisation, but I think a lot of surfers really benefit from that.”

An old quote comes to mind. “Weight training is zen for violent men,” wrote Gregory David Roberts, the author of Shantaram, so, following a similar line of thinking, perhaps slab surfing is zen for thrillseekers?

That surfers experience a quieting of the mind isn't such a radical thought. Mindfulness, after all, has reached the mainstream. It’s understood how the burdens of the world, the voices and the impulses, drop away after directing your focus towards one vital goal - in this instance, making it to the channel intact.

Nor is it a short term thing. “Truth be told,” says Ben in his soft and measured voice, “we hardly ever surf The Right - I think we had three swells this year - but so much energy and focus goes into it.”

Like I said, fascinating stuff, but I’m neither qualified nor knowledgeable enough to place it all in context. That said, I'd say it's no coincidence Australia’s greatest big wave surfer, also from WA, just named his newborn son Zen.

Local shaper and surfer Ben Rufus piloting self-shaped equipment under heavy skies (Andrew Semark)

“They’ve got an itch and they have to scratch it,” is how photographer and bodyboarder Ray Collins explains the slab surfers’ desire to huck themselves over the edge. He knows because he’s one of them.

The desire, of course, has to outweigh the self-preservation instinct, but when it does the result is addictive. “It’s addictive to scratch down a watery cliff and have more water over you than under you,” says Ray in his own inimitable manner. “It’s not always healthy, but it’s way healthier than drugs or alcohol.”

Perhaps it’s the difference between east coast slabs to their heavier west coast counterparts, I’m not really sure, but when I ask Ray about the skills required to surf slabs well he tends more towards the mental than the physical. “When it comes to slabs,” says Ray, “a lot of very ordinary surfers have been incredibly coned. And that’s just because they were willing to have a go.”

Incredibly coned, though there's no shortage of talent here. Slab surfing was never a side hustle for Kipp Caddy, it's been his focus since he was barely a teenager, as documented in his recent movie 'Desensitised' (Cameron Staunton)

“When I think about it, the best surfer in the world could, if they wanted to, also be the best slab surfer in the world,” says Justen ‘Jughead’ Allport, who’s spent years riding slabs and also thinking about them.

“At the moment, it’s just the mindset that stops them.”

When he was growing up on the NSW Central Coast, the word ‘slab’ hadn’t yet entered the vernacular yet he’d ride the local ledges and found they were a great proxy for legitimately big waves. “We don’t get big waves that often, so I found I could ride a six-foot slab and get the adrenaline hit, and it filled the gap of not being able to get big waves very often.”

In time, chasing slabs took precedence and Jug spearheaded the hunt for many now-famous waves, yet he’s always had a mind for marrying performance with danger. “When I was twenty, I used to love watching surfers like Adam Replogle, Flea, Peter Mel, Skin Dog…all those Santa Cruz guys doing aerials,” explains Jug. “And it blew me away when I saw they were also surfing twenty foot Mavericks. Like, ‘how are these guys doing that?’”

“A few surfers followed, Shane Dorian could surf everything, Slater too, John John, Josh Kerr.” Yet to a large degree specialisation rules. Choose contests, or choose slab chasing.

For many young Australian surfers, they’ve chosen the latter. “In 2018 I was in Nias for a huge swell,” says Jug. ”There were some well-known Hawaiians there, yet what blew my mind was how many underground Australian guys were sitting as deep as anyone, just sending it on the thickest of walls.”

“All day I was like, "Who's that? Who’s that?" And it’d be some unknown Australian - unknown to me and probably unknown to anyone outside of where they live - and there were just so many of them."

"It was a proud moment watching other Aussies just going hard.”

Between the acute angle and water drawing up the face, just holding a line at Cape Solander can be a triumph. Doing it backside requires a peculiar mix of courage, reflex, body integration, and sheer bloodymindedness. Max McGuigan putting it all on display (Tim Bonython)

So is this where Australia’s lost CT surfers have gone? They’ve gone and got trades and are working flexible jobs, dropping tools when the swells hit. If so, that makes Max McGuigan's path the new normal.

"It doesn't matter who's in the water [at Cape Solander] Max is the best out there," says videographer Tim Bonython. Yet being a slab standout wasnt his initial goal.

"I was doing all the comps," says Max about his grommethood, "having some success...and that was my dream, to be a pro surfer: to be paid to travel the world and surf."

"At some point I came to terms with the fact I wasn't going to be the best," continues Max, "and companies just weren't throwing money around like they used to. As I faded away from comps they [sponsors] just werent seeing the value."

While chasing the comp circuit, Max had the sense to also put himself through a trade - he's a carpenter - and he was fortunate enough to have an understanding boss who'd allow him time off to surf in contests. Rather than seeking sponsor backing, Max now works for himself and takes time off to chase waves when he can. 

"I'm not sure what the future holds," says Max when I ask him to look in the crystal ball, "there's a bunch of kids who it seems are going to make the tour, like Dane Henry, Lennix Smith, they've had good career input, and they also surf heavy waves really well. There's also young guys like Ned Hart, Noah Hassett, and Joel Barry, who surf big waves well but also rip in anything."

"Right now, those guys are making all the right moves."
 

Hugh Vaughan casual entry at a wave that's claimed many scalps (Tim Bonython)

"I went away with Hughie Vaughan just last week," says Jughead of the 18-year old Central Coaster, and younger brother to Joel Vaughan. "Joel was maybe going to come away but had to get ready for Portugal [the Ericeira Pro, a Challenger Series event].

In the Vaughan brothers, Jughead can see the diverging paths - choose contests or choose slabs - and he's not sure which way Hughie will go.

"There's no doubt about it," Jug says adamantly, "the kid can do it all - he recently got a third in a QS [at Surfest Newcastle] - and he's watching his brother Joel do his third year on the Challenger Series. It's a huge financial outlay every single year to go and chase waves that are very rarely good."

The pay off is far from assured. Just ask Jacob Willcox who put in eight full years on the QS/CS grind, only to be bumped off the CT in less than six months. Then there are all the surfers who just never even make the tour.

"If you're a kid and you have some talent, maybe you're getting paid by sponsors, do you want to hustle on the QS and CS..?" Jug leaves the question hanging a while. "Keep in mind there's only ten spots for the men, five for the women, and a lot of those are requalifiers."

In Jug's mind, it's clear why so many young kids are choosing slabs - either on their sponsor's coin or their own backing. "Who wouldn't want to go and surf quality heavy waves? Compared to spending your money on chasing the QS or the Challenger Series with nothing to show at the end."

Who knows which path someone like Hughie Vaughan will take, but he no doubt received solid fireside advice from Uncle Jug during their recent mission.

My session wasn't quite waveless but it wasn't far off. I really should've stayed at the local. The banter between sets may have been friendly but the spirit of generosity gave way when the sets came through. It was the sort of competitive lineup I once relished but it's no place for old men. The thought stings a bit.

Yet it also comes with a relief that Aussie surfing is renewing itself. We're not devolving into lifestyle surfers, riding $1,500 mid-lengths at Creso. There's a new vanguard, they're not as visible due to not being on the WSL program, but they're young, skilful, and insanely courageous.

// STU NETTLE