inside the goldmine

ÄSP Adds Umlaut In Preparation For Mid-Year Surfer Cull.

2010-07-19T23:59:00.000-07:00

Wed 21st July 2010 – An already tumultuous year in professional surfing has taken a further twist with the ÄSP announcing that from today it will now have an umlaut – those two cool, slightly germanic dot things that perform no discernible function – hovering over its initial letter.

Those inside the organisation say grammatical shake-ups have been on the drawing board for a considerable time.

“When the rebel-tour shitstorm was brewing back in late 2009, we looked at a number of options to give us some edge” says a source,“focus groups saw ÅSP and ÆSP testing strongly for us, but the whole thing lost momentum.”

Now, though, it appears ASP bigwigs have seen the looming cull of the top 45 surfers back to 32 amid the slabs of Teahupo’o as ripe time to breathe a cold air of Germanic steel into its corporate paintwork.

“It’s good enough for Mötley Crüe and Mödern Collective then it’s good enough for us” reads a release on the ÄSP’s website. “We want the backmarkers, the poor schmucks who haven’t made it through a heat yet this year, those soon-to-be also-rans, to behold the ÄSP’s authority with awe as it dispatches them into neverland.”

The ÄSP commissioned in-demand designer and DJ Stefan Swoopmeister to come up with its bold new look. The friendly, blue flowing swooshes of the old logotype have been replaced with a look Swoopmeister describes as “striking, in a neo-militaristic kind of way.”

“Fittingly, for a grammatical mark comprised of two dots, the benefits for our über organisation are two-fold”, barked CEO Brodie Carr. “First up, we’re tapping into that whole Mödcol skinny jean bohemian thing, which is where it’s at right now, and secondly, well, just look at it: ÄSP, we're now officially not to be fucked with.”

You Must Romance The Wax On To The Board

2010-04-11T23:11:00.000-07:00

By Guest Goldminer Enrique.

My God? What are you doing? Take your hands off that pristine new surfboard this very moment! Stand back, and give the wax to Enrique.

My accent intrigues you. I can tell. No-one knows where Enrique is from, not even Enrique. There is certainly italian in his husky voice, there may well be some french, and perhaps some russian. All you need to know is that Enrique is a citizen of the globe, and Enrique speaks the international langauge of love.

Now, this wax you use, I spit on it... Enrique is seething with rage.

Why do you insult this princess of a surfboard with such tacky muck.

Here, a gift, not for you, for her. A precious ingot of wax made for the candles of the shrine of Casanova himself, smuggled to Persia by a virginal Joan of Arc, and perfumed under the pillow of the slightly less virginal Queen Of Sheba. Is the finest wax in the world, and your surfboard, she deserves nothing less than such a gift, no?

Never forget my friend, that a new board, she is like a beautiful woman, and applying the base coat of wax is like making love to her for the first time.

Let Enrique ask you, my clueless chump of a friend: when you make love, do you start jackhammering immediately once the helmet has stormed the barricades as fast as your pasty anglo saxon buttocks can clench and release?

No, Of course not, for it is obvious to Enrique that even one as inept in the art of love as yourself will know to begin slowly.

Let Enrique tell you something: When it comes to love, Rule number one, make as little physical contact as you can, for the first half hour. Only undressing, admiring, the lightest of caresses. Maybe a little singing if Enrique is feeling in voice. You may only engage in the stink-finger after 40 minutes or so.

So too it must be with your new surfboard. Run the back of your hands lightly along the rails. If you had Enrique's silky locks your hair could cascade over her driving her crazy, but alas, you most certainly do not have Enrique's midnight black mane.

And set the mood for christ's sake: Some candles and music: Enrique does his best work to George Benson, Kenny G, Foreigner “I want to know what love is.... I want you to show me...." Enrique is in fine voice uh?

Now, to begin the waxing. Like this. long, slow circular motions. Light as a feather, as if you do not care if any wax transfers on to the deck. Sometimes a little faster, sometimes a little slower, talking softly, complimenting her on her rails, the subtle single to double concave, give her your word that you will screw her fcs fins in tightly but not too tightly.

If she has only recently been glassed you will need to be extra gentle, for she is a delicate flower.

So, take your time with the long, the slow, the circular motions, and look! slowly, gradually the first beads of traction appear on the deck. at this moment, it's tempting for a monkey unschooled in the art of love as yourself to speed up, but no, slow, slowly, gently, aaaaaahhhhhhh....

After an hour of this, your princess is ready, and if the conditions are favorable, she will be surfed for the first time. Good luck my friend, I believe you can do justice to such a beautiful creation.

What's that? How does one approach the next wax job on the same board once she has been broken in? Maybe with a compression dent where you place your knee to assist with the duckdiving?

Now that is a different matter altogether my friend. Once you have romanced the base coat of wax onto a board, well, put it this way, your board is still a beautiful woman, but now it is the type you can hit doggy style in the toilets at a party.

Feel the love. Enrique
XOXO

Rogue Ferret Wreaks Havoc in Quiksilver Pro Judges' Tower.

2010-03-03T21:20:00.000-08:00

Wed 3rd March, Snapper Rocks, Gold Coast, Australia – A series of puzzling scores and baffling judging decisions at the Quiksilver Pro has been traced to the behaviour of an increasingly aggressive stray ferret loose in the Judges' tower, sources confirmed today.

It isn't clear how the ferret gained entry into the enclosure. Locals say recent heavy rains in the Coolangatta region may have forced the possibly abandoned domestic pet to seek refuge in the elevated judging infrastructure at Snapper rocks.

“Initially, having the little guy around was a bit of fun,” says a judge who agreed to speak to The Goldmine on degree of anonymity. “He was pretty freaked out when we found him, cowering in the corner under some towels, seemed harmless enough, so we left food out for him and let him have the run of the place.”

“He was a well-behaved mascot through the first round, we even christened him Felix, but soon as round two kicked in, things started falling apart.”

Bystanders report screams emanating (in a number of languages) from the judging tower midway through Neco Padaratz and Damien Hobgood's second-round heat.

“Forget 'White LIghtning' said a shocked onlooker, “I didn't know an animal could run up the a judge's leg and into his shorts so quickly.

“One second Felix was curled up on the floor sleeping, the next he's wrapped around a judge's testes, right when Neco was on what looked like a really good scoring wave.”

“How the judge managed to remain impartial and lock in an accurate score I'll never know.”

The rogue ferret's behaviour has not only impacted the occupants of the tower, there are also reports of cables being gnawed through. The $100,000 instant replay system is damaged beyond repair with nesting debris and feces overheating the circuit boards.

According to insiders, key members of the judging staff were 'trying to corner Felix with a broom' as a particularly close heat between Jeremy Flores and Dane Reynolds was unfolding.

Unable to view the replay to scrutinise the ride, judges were forced to fall back on their backup device, the 'Applause-o-meter 2000', which gauges the audio levels of gasps and cheers from the beach and award the scores “pretty fairly to the favourites” it is claimed.

Sources report that the Ferret – described as fawn-coloured with a cream underbelly, black markings across its eyes, and razor sharp claws and teeth – grew increasingly agitated through the afternoon, becoming particularly crazed when the horn blew to signal the start of the day's final heat between Portugese surfer Tiago Peres and South African child-giant Jordy Smith.

“Felix went ballistic, literally leaping from one judge's face to the next,” reports a photographer stationed adjacent to the tower, “by this stage every judge was armed with anything they could get their hands on – dustbin lids, pieces of wood, makeshift body armour, and they're all smashing eachother trying to nail the little fucker.”

With the replay system down and their attention anywhere but the ocean, and the Applause-o-meter in smithereens, judges were apparently forced to stick their heads outside the door and ask bystanders if surfer in red's last wave was 'like, innovative or not'.

Late last night, new head judge Richie Porta was reportedly trying in vain to track down predecessor Perry Hatchett, who single-handedly captured and released a rabid Weasel unharmed from the judges' tower at Trestles in California in 2003. Perry couldn't be raised.

STOP PRESS: In breaking news Felix has been reported heading south towards the Webcast commentary booth.

Dane Reynolds 'A Huge Disappointment', claims Angry Surf Forum Mob.

2010-02-13T22:24:00.000-08:00

MON FEB 15TH 2010 – Surf blog enthusiasts worldwide have been driven to rage by the fact that Dane Reynolds has failed to blow their minds with a downright freaky online clip for the second week in a row.

Several surf sites have had their servers jammed by a torrent of bitter personal attacks on all facets of Reynolds' character, his surfing and sexual orientation.

“I'm angry, confused and let down by this prick Reynolds” writes Bugalugs72 in a tirade typical of many on primesurf.com. “So much for cutting edge surfing... the latest Dane Reynolds clip is weeks old. I've viewed it half a dozen times now and am no longer impressed.”

It's a sentiment echoed by DaneSux on the futuristically groovy site spitesurf.com,“Safety turn after safety turn – I don't care if they're performed above the lip – It's all just just so PREDICTABLE after four or five views. Reynolds is a joke and I hold him personally responsible for dragging surfing kicking and screaming back into the dark ages.

"Wanker".

“In no way is my unfocused and ignorant rage a clear reflection of the bitterness I feel towards my own mediocre talents in the water and the drudgery of my own life, which stretches before me as a sad, increasingly grey wasteland of anonymity” writes YouseCanAllGetStuffed on critically lauded failsurffail.com “Lord no, It's not about me, it's about someone calling it like they see it, and quite frankly, way I see it, the whole thing stinks.

“Take Mick Fanning. Biggest joke of the lot. Without question holding surfing back. I don't think I've ever been less impressed with a so-called world champion.

“I mean, put aside his exquisite repertoire of moves, a top turn that will make you weep with its sheer speed, power, timing and beauty; forget for a moment the astounding completeness of his waveriding in any conditions; ignore the personal tragedies, the crippling injuries, the almighty focus and steel will of the man; dismiss if you will the fact he'll be first out every morning such is his sheer love for surfing and the ocean; put to the back of your mind his humility, patience and approachability and what do you get?

“That's right, a pathetic joke of a contest machine.”

Barely pausing for breath, YouseCanAllGetStuffed continued, “Seriously. if I have to sit on front of my computer anywhere I want and watch a free, three-camera-angle webcast to see the world's best surfers stumble through heats with staggeringly beautiful highwire shredding I can't tell you how upset I might become, and how I'll bombard the world's message boards with my stinking vitriol.

“Thank christ for Dane Reynolds. Now there's the future right there.

“What's that? We're over Dane now?

“Riiiight. Yep, Thought as much. Honestly, Dane Reynolds – what a letdown that conservo-boy-homo is. Sad to think back, all the way back to January, how he was the real deal. These days? Two thumbs down.

“Without question, holding surfing back.”

Not only is the former poster boy for avante-garde performance now universally loathed for the recent drought of mind-blowing freakiness, Surf media analysts have noticed an online trend towards pre-emptive hating, and cite dangerously renegade sexmysurf.com, where the hapless Reynolds is acting as springboard in a discussion that's officially attracting a gazillion new posts per minute.

“Fuck EVERYONE,” writes self-described 'maverick' blog commenter BlinkyBalls on sexmysurf.com “in particular, fuck the ASP tour, the rebel tour, the judges, the caterers, the security staff, the mags, the locals, the tourists, the blow-ins, Mum, Dad, my little sister, Fanning, Slater, Reynolds. Fuck em ALL.

“But most of all, FUCK the bloke who's gonna surpass Dane Reynolds. Whoever comes along in a blaze of glory, doing things we never imagined, well, I'm over him and his late-2011-style conservatism already.

“Boooooring!”

--------------

As the goldmine goes to press with this story, Dane Reynolds' management has offered an emotional apology to the entire surfing world for “Dane's disappointing inability to blow minds with something crazy and new over the last couple of weeks.”

“Dane knows he has a lot of soul searching to do” reads the press release, “and personally feels he deserves every well-considered barb his online supporters have skewered him with.”

Huge Flesh-Eating Fish Loose In Oceans, Reports Surf Group.

2010-01-31T20:04:00.000-08:00

By Nick Carroll

Vast fish capable of devouring human flesh at will are roaming the world's oceans, possibly in huge numbers, according to a study released today by the renowned activist group, Friends of the Surfing Environment.

The fish, estimated to be between two and five metres in length and equipped with rows upon rows of huge triangular-shaped teeth, are yet to be identified by any other ocean biological institute. But the FSE study claims they may have been lying in wait in the ocean depths for millions of years.

"At last now we have some explanation for why people -- including surfers -- very occasionally go missing from beaches around the world, or are washed up onto the sands with dreadful wounds which science has never been able to account for," said Jeffrey Beachhead, FSE's director of research.

Beachhead and his crew had spent years searching for proof of the gigantic, vicious predators' existence, capturing only fleeting glimpses of their disturbingly sharp-edged pectoral fins, cold assassin-like black eyes, and vast, gaping, fang-filled jaws.

Rumours of a blood-chilling bycatch of the deadly fish in the Gold Coast dolphin nets - designed to protect Japanese tourists from being irritated by the sight of live dolphins - have circulated for decades, while officials have refused to comment.

But recent discoveries - including a dead whale, washed up on a South Australian beach with huge chunks of blubber torn from its sides - have added weight to what was once just a mad theory bandied about by conspiracy nutters and wackjob environmentalists.

Surfers and fishermen alike reacted to the shocking revelation with a mixture of horror, relief and outright scepticism.

"I knew this wasn't a figment of my imagination," wept NSW North Coast surfer Johnny Dickson, showing off a deep crescent-shaped "bite-mark" in his upper thigh. Dickson had claimed for years that the injury was due to a large, terrifying fish having seized upon him "like some sort of tiger" and shaking like a mad dog before inexplicably releasing him from its grip.

But friends, doctors, local police and others had dismissed the claims, saying Dickson was "always trying to get attention" and that he'd probably inflicted the wounds himself with a pocket knife.

"They'll be eating their words now," muttered Dickson, sporting an ironic grin.

Nonsense, says Felix Thurston, of the Florida-based Institute for People Disappearing off Beaches For No Apparent Reason. According to Thurston: "This farcical theory about massive ravenous killer fish has been proffered before, and has always been found wanting. Until the FSE truly satisfies the burden of proof, we will continue to assume that people are being abducted by deep-space aliens for their own unknowable purposes.

"For God's sake, if the ocean really was full of these terrible grey beasts, how could Mankind ever have colonised the globe?"

Asked if he had any advice for surfers and beachgoers in general, Beachhead shrugged his shoulders. "Frankly, I don't know what to tell anyone," he said. "We all thought the ocean was a safe place. It's hard to get your head around the fact that an entire sub-family of death-dealing fish the size of Stand-Up Paddleboards have been out there since before humans walked the planet, just waiting for the right moment to strike."

Legrope-Free Purist Slightly Less Smug After Fourth Swim To Beach.

2010-01-18T22:33:00.000-08:00

Toonalook backbeach, January 18, 2010. – Local soul surfer Carl Reid's annoying air of superiority took a well-deserved setback today thanks to a number of tiring swims to retrieve his retro twin-fin fish.

Reid, 23, met two friends, John Mcphee and Wayne Tanner at Toonalook backbeach lookout at 3.00pm whereupon they agreed on a quick surf despite the marginal windswell on offer and rapidly dropping tide.

“We were getting changed and straight away Reidy was on our case for how lame we were for using a legrope on a two foot beachie.” recalls Tanner.

“Thing is, I kinda agree with him but there's something about the way the smug prick comes over all fucken-holier-than-thou that makes me want to punch him in that goateed face of his.”

Reid, who adorns his boards with Sea Shepherd stickers, continued to lecture his friends about their 'infantile dependence' on the legrope as they made their way down to the water's edge.

Onlookers observed Reid’s legrope-free posturing and body language with distaste.

Bea Smith, 78, a long term Toonalook resident, walking her beagles along the beach at the time, commented to reporters. “Look at 'im, like a strutting peacock that boy is. Poser is what I reckon.”

Disdain soon turned to joy for the eyewitnesses as Reid lost his board four times in half an hour.

On each occasion he was forced to swim all the way to the beach.

“It was magic” claimed a clearly elated Mcphee, “the first time he swam in he was all like 'it's a good workout' and 'I'm feeling the flow' and stuff, but you could see him getting more and more pissed off. By the fourth swim he was fully losing his shit, swearing and carrying on.

“He'd be madly swimming after his board and every time he'd almost get to it, a little whitewater'd come through and take it out of his reach.”

Mcphee continued: “Kinda makes me believe that there might be some kind of karmic force behind the ways of the ocean after all., 'Cos anything that wipes that smug fucken I'm-more-in-tune-with-the-great-mysteries-of-the-ocean-than-you-look off his face has got to be good.”

Goldmine Author Calls Off Two-Month Search For Motivation.

2009-12-19T19:18:00.001-08:00

Sunday 20th December 2009. Graeme Murdoch, of Burleigh Heads Queensland today called off the search for the energy and motivation required to post entries on sporadically humorous blog 'inside the goldmine'.

“I thought if I spent some time away from the blog, you know, bludging for a while, then after a while I'd turn around and Bam!.... there it'd be, staring me in the face and urging me to get stuck into the next soft target that blundered into my field of vision.” said the 42-year-old.

“But weirdly, the opposite happened: the longer the absence, the less necessary it felt to continue, blogging became increasingly less vital to my sense of vindication. It was oddly liberating to let the time between entries lapse from days to weeks to months.”

Witnesses report that the signal emitting from Murdoch's 'give-a-fuck-about-anything' beacon has become so weak that any prospect of locating the drive and passion to continue the goldmine, – indeed, to approach any creative endeavour with rigour and professionalism – would be nothing short of a Christmas Miracle.

“I dunno” said Murdoch, scratching his arse, “I might have another look behind the couch or in the car under the seats in the new year sometime. Maybe there'll be some remnants of desire or commitment I can scrape up and cobble together, but I wouldn't count on it.

“For now all I'm good for is to lie around and eat chocolates and watch entire series of Dexter in one go.”

Friends express fears that Murdoch's standards of personal cleanliness will wane along with his creative mojo. “It's scary to think he might actually pay less attention to grooming and hygiene than he does already,” says one.

Dave Montoya Fundraising raffle winners

2009-12-11T02:12:00.000-08:00

Hi all. Hey sorry for the lack of satire over the last month. Been kinda distracted away from the whole humour thing lately.

I'm using this blog post to announce the winners of a fundraising raffle we had for a mate, Dave Montoya who's fighting a brain tumour right now. Guy's a legend.

Anyway, we raised 15K and Dave and hid bro are headinhg off to the States to pursue some treatments not available here.

Grand Prize Winner: Graeme Pedermont

runner up #1: Nathan French

runner up #2: Michael @ Golden Legends Restaurant

runner up#3: Debbie Arkland

runner up #4: Robyn Luke

runner up #5: Sam Smith

runner up #6: Margaret Kelly

runner up #7: Ash + Dee Frost

cheers. Here's to Dave hey.

Gra

Modern Collective A “Trojan Horse for Socialist Utopia.”

2009-11-21T13:42:00.000-08:00

By Tim Baker.

Planet Earth – Stars of the highly touted new surf movie, Modern Collective, have been shocked to discover the project was all an elaborate ruse by film-maker Kai Neville to impose his leftist-socialist politics on the world.

In the fine print of agreements signed by the surfers, they are henceforth obliged to donate all future income “for the collective good of humanity.”

Under the agreement, private ownership of wealth is strictly prohibited and the surfers’ earnings from sponsorship and prize money, as well as all profits from the film, must be handed over to a number of approved “community projects”.

“I thought collective just meant we were going traveling and surfing together, not some kind of crazy kabutz shit where we had to give everything away,” complained a stunned Dion Agius. “I should have twigged when Kai started carrying on about upsetting the apple cart, and apples for every one. I just thought he was on the pingers.”

Lawyers for the surfers are poring over their contracts but so far can find no loopholes in the binding agreements they have entered.

“It first came to me one day at Canguu,” said Neville, of his inspiration for the scheme. “I’d just despatched some little Balo kid to order our lunches and fetch me some fresh batteries when I had a kind of epiphany. I just couldn’t justify tripping around the planet in the lap of luxury with all these wealthy guys while so many people went without the basic necessities of life,” he said.
“All these unpaid extras in surf movies, often in impoverished third world locations, earn nothing from our imposition on their homelands and I figured it was time we gave something back. It’s nothing but an accident of birth that we have so much while they go without.”

The combined annual incomes of the surfers, Agius, Smith, Mitch Coleborn, Dusty Payne, Yadin Nichol and Dane Reynolds, believed to be in the vicinity of US$4 million, will be diverted into a charitable foundation and distributed to a number of community groups.

Top of the list is a large training facility for unemployed youth around Canguu, equipping them for jobs in the surf industry. Everything from board making and ding fixing, to website design and film making will be taught. Additionally, the surfers will all be required to perform several weeks of community service in the facility. Any failure to comply may result in an extended stay in a special “re-education camp.”

“Machado had the right idea. All he had to do was pretend he was digging a freaking well for a few minutes while Taylor got the shot, and everyone thinks he’s a bloody Saint,” bemoaned Mitch Coleborn. “We’ve basically signed our lives away because of this crazed little Che Guevara posing as a camerman, and if we complain and try and wriggle out of it we look like the bad guys.”

The only one not complaining is Reynolds. “I’ve always hated being a surf star and all the money and opportunities that come with it,” said Reynolds. “Frankly, it’s been torture. This will finally allow me to really be the kind of gritty, down-at-heel rebel I’ve always wanted to be.”

Lifelong Friendship Ends After Mates’ Rules Violation

2009-11-10T22:29:00.000-08:00

By Chris Binns

TOONALOOK WATERS, EAST COAST AUSTRALIA: Ted Newbury and Damon Hensley today officially declared their 25-year mateship over, citing irreconcilable differences. After years of mediation and counselling following ‘Bowlogate’, the sorry night that saw Newbury forget to buy Hensley a round, then later fail to honour a pantsing at the pool table, the final curtain came down on the pair’s strained relationship this morning at Toonalook Back Beach, when Hensley failed to wait on the sand and watch Newbury’s last wave.

According to a distraught Newbury, the wave was “ a real good one, ay. I linked her all the way through, stuck a big floater onto the sand and did that kick-your-board-out-and-catch-it-and-keep-running thing. I was pretty pumped and looked up for Damo, but... he wasn’t there. So spewing, I’m just over it. After all I’ve done for that guy...”

Hensley admits his fault but claims he’d had the shits with his former mate from the time they’d suited up. “Ah y’know how it is, he picked me up from home like he always does, but something just didn’t seem right. I was bagging his shitty driving and he didn’t seem to appreciate it like he normally does. Then in the carpark I was pissing in my wetty and flicked some on him, and he just looked at me like, whatever. So I was like, whatever too, y’know?”

The pair were civil in the water, except for on one occasion when Newbury dropped in on Hensley, who he claims was too far back to make it. “Yeah,” says Newbury, “I went, but I had to. Teddy was never gonna get around that one, and it was too good to let go. He does it all the time and I’ve had a gutful of pulling back on bombs that he doesn’t end up making.”

According to Newbury, the situation was quite different. “Fuck mate, the only reason I don’t make ’em is ’cos that clown’s always on the shoulder pushing the section down on me. He calls me Too Deep Teddy, but I reckon Drop-In Damo’s more like it. Fuck ’im.”

About the Mates’ Rule violation on the sand, Hensley is quick to set the record straight. “It was pretty shit out there. We’d been in the water for a while already and were running late for work. Edward had called last wave, and I snagged a set and beached it. Then I seen him catch at least three more little in-betweeners and kick off and paddle back out every time. After one he coulda come in on and didn’t, I bailed. It was cold on the sand and now he’s all sour on me. He can get rooted.”

Although their friendship is over, Hensley and Newbury later released a joint statement saying they their other dealings, as brothers-in-law and business partners, will be unaffected.

Dane Reynolds Reluctantly Gives Up Paper Run To Concentrate On Surfing Career

2009-11-03T15:47:00.000-08:00

By Nick Carroll

California: In a heart-wrenching statement to friends, family and the global surf media, Dane Reynolds has announced he will be giving up his twice weekly paper run.

The run, which Reynolds first took on at the age of nine, covers a number of streets near his childhood home, and involves riding around with a basket of local free newspapers and tossing them into the front yards of various residents.

Giving up hand delivery of the Ventura Guardian will allow Reynolds to focus all his attention on his pro surfing career, which he said had suffered in prior seasons from broken concentration. “I was always stressing … I’d be sitting in the lineup at Teahupo’o or Hossegor, and thinking about getting back home in time for next Tuesday’s delivery.”

The $25 per month paycheque funded the purchase of his first very own surfboard. Confessed Reynolds: “At first I was worried I wouldn’t be able to find the money for my next quiver, but then I recalled I was being paid a million dollars a year by various sponsors and got my surfboards free from the world’s highest profile board designer.”

Nonetheless, admitted Reynolds, the decision to abandon the paper run has caused him considerable angst. “I’ve got nothing to fall back on now,” he told reporters, brushing away tears. “Apart from a paper run, and colossal stardom in the undeniably hip global surf culture, what else am I qualified for? I feel as if my youth is slipping away.”

Reynolds also plans to sell his specially modified bike, which allowed him to carry up to 100 newspapers at a time. But, he said, “I won’t just sell it to anyone. That bike meant the world to me.”

Local grandmother Lupe Gonzales said the whole neighbourhood would miss Reynolds. “We always knew when the paper had arrived by his raucous bellowing. ‘Read all about it!’ Dane really knew how to wake people up.”

She said the neighbourhood was planning a party to celebrate Reynolds’s long paperboy career, but she expected only a few people to show up, since the party would be on a Sunday morning when all decent Americans went to church.

New area paper boy, Bobby Martinez, says he is hoping to follow in Reynolds’s footsteps. “Boy, would I love it if a major surf corporation threw that kind of money at me!” said Martinez. “Then I wouldn’t have to win ultra prestigious ASP world tour events just to keep myself in airfares.”

Ooooh, I Wanted Our Boy Fanning to Win the World Title But Now I Think I'm Rooting For That Joel Fellow Again.

2009-10-28T19:31:00.000-07:00

Guest Opinion By Goldmining Grandma Florence Tolhurst

Ever since a young Midget Farrelly set my heart on fire back in the day I've had an eye out for the surfies. My husband Walter – God rest his soul – couldn't abide the sight of 'em, so for the half-century of our holy union I've been careful not to admire these young bucks too openly or else he would get annoyed. He really would. Annoyed. My word. Yes.

Did you know my Walter always blamed that Shaun Tomson chap for his first coronary? Found some folded-up pictures of him tucked away in my sewing drawer back in '78 he did. Next thing you know we were screaming up Parramatta Road in the ambulance, with him refusing to hold my hand, muttering 'You've got some nerve, Florence' through the oxygen mask.

I never meant to hurt my husband. He was a good man. A decent man. Yes he was.

Since Walter passed though I've been free to follow the surfies on the internet to my heart's content. It's a real treat for half a dozen of us ladies in the home to sit down with a nice cup of tea and watch the surfing contests on the computer.

At my age, you might say my passion for the surfies has mellowed a little. It's more matronly concern now than when I was ... well ... you know what I mean. Here, have a toffee.

Have I told you we don't really care for the surfing out in the water awfully much? – too much sitting there, bobbing around, really, and without the most powerful of stimulants, half of us doze off after five minutes' commentary anyway.

What we absolutely adore is the interviews after they come out of the water! Such Manners! Oh, my word, such well brought-up young men!
Just when you thought gentlemen were a thing of the past.
Always going on about how great the other fellow surfs. Always so lovely and humble.

And always so sun-smart, with their little friends rushing up and handing them their caps straight away as soon as they get out of the water. You don't want melanoma now, do you. Oh no you don't. Horrible thing. Awful.

These boys give us endless things to talk about. We're always saying to eachother “My word, isn't it considerate of the other fellow's feelings when a lad says he was 'lucky to get through that heat' ”, or “That Dave Reynolds boy looks like he needs a hug” and “Ooooh, I'd like to put that Georgie Smith between two slices of bread...”

I am still a woman, after all. Feelings get stirred up.
From somewhere deep. Yes, deep.

Not that Hector Alves though. He looks like a monster in his ASP photograph. Get that beastly man away from me. Mercy!

I've always had a soft spot for our boy Fanning. He looks like a lad who'd help you across the road. Lovely. Just lovely. It was sad to see the poor soul missing out by the cruellest strokes of misfortune through the first half of the year.

But he's had his title hasn't he? 'Share' is what I always say. Don't be greedy. Don't be like that Slater fellow. Reminds me of Elvis he does. Never had enough to make him happy and look what happened to him.
They never learn. No they don't. Elvis. Such a shame.

So I was happy for young Joel's crackerjack beginning to the year. He's started his family quite young hasn't he? I always say, have 'em while you're young because then you've got more friends and you need friends don't you? I always say that don't I? I do.

Yes, Joel, lovely smile, lovely, but Esmae and Ada always wondered if he wasn't a bit cocky and I think they're on to something. Everything was always so easy. He looked like the cat who swallowed the cream.

So I started pulling for young Mick again, and what do you know, he's back on top! How wonderful. Yes. just lovely. Such a lad.

Well I WAS in Mick's corner until he won that thing in Portugal last night. Came straight out of the water and do you know the FIRST thing he did? Someone stuck a can of some newfangled energy drink in his hand and he and actually drank the whole thing! While he was being carried up the beach. In front of everyone!
Like he didn't care who saw!

God knows how much of the sugary muck the poor boy is hoovering up in private. Poor love.

Esmae reckons that next thing you know they'll be rushing down the water's edge with insulin, either that or a dialysis machine. She's got a mouth on her that woman. Yes she has.

Did I tell you that Diabetes took my poor Walter away? I'm not going to get attached to Mick only to lose him to the same scourge. It's just not right.

And that boy Joel has such lovely, white teeth, he wouldn't go near the stuff. No he wouldn't.

Go Joel. You make an old woman proud. And flushed.

Arm Raising Shoulder Dweller Accuses Surf Mag Editors of Discrimination

2009-10-23T22:19:00.000-07:00

By Guest Goldminer Tim Brimblecombe

SLACKS CREEK – Local arm raiser Ray Smurgon has accused surf magazine editors of discrimination after failing to feature in any magazine or website with his arms up while a surfer rides the barrel.

Mr Smurgon believes the editors are conducting an orchestrated campaign and has accused them of photoshopping him out of images.

“I don’t understand it ... I’ve been to most of the big sessions in the past six months, you name it, I was all over it sticking my hands in the air and playing an important role,” said Mr Smurgon. “But did the back of my head with my arms up get one photo in any of the mags? No. Not fricken one.”

He accused editors of disrespect for failing to acknowledge his work and that of others who dedicate their lives to sitting in the channel or on the shoulder looking like they are taking part but never catching a wave.

“I’m out there on the shoulder, you know, doing the hard yards,” said Mr Smurgon, who admitted he cannot surf and has sometimes had to be saved while returning through the shore break by bodyboarders and young families on vacation. “I’m on good terms with all of the photographers, there’s a lot of mutual respect out there and that’s what comes with being a waterman. But as for the editors ... I don’t see them out there on the frontline.”

Mr Smurgon said several lucrative advertising contracts were under threat because of the poor exposure he received.

“There’s a lot that can be placed on the back of your head, believe you me, and I’ve been working on some new techniques to give advertisers excellent return on their investments.

“I have a new technique, which I call “the line of sight project”. Basically I line the surfer up with the photographer and the back of my mind’s eye. It’s like having an eye, but it’s at the back ... of my mind.

“And that’s not to mention the months of training I put in preparing for the latest big wave season. I spent hours watching Ricky and the boys in the Australian slips cordon during the Ashes and admiring how they raise their arms when appealing.

“I not only marvelled at their passion in the appeal but what also amazed me was the drive they seem to get through the legs. Of course I’m sitting on a board and can’t use my legs so I’ve worked hard developing that drive through my core. I do a lot of SUP ... that’s great for the core.”

Mr Smurgon was unsure what the future held.

“I plan to speak individually with each editor and if they won’t budge then I have a couple of other projects on the go, one of which is my book to be called “Presenting the Eye”, which is basically a how to guide which I hope to have in all good book stores by Christmas.”

Aloha Shortage “Critical”

2009-10-20T20:05:00.000-07:00

By Guest Goldminer Rick Bannister
– reporting from the near future –

HONOLULU — Aloha shortages have hit much of Hawaii, particularly the island of Oahu, at the height of the winter surf season.

Several islands in the Hawaiian group, including Kauai, Maui and Molokai, have imposed restrictions to maintain reserves until locals carrying more of the sacred energy arrive from the Big Island of Hawai’i. On the island of Oahu, locals and tourists have reported no aloha anywhere for the last five days.

"We had warned central government that this would happen months ago and now we are struggling to meet demand," said the concierge at the Lae Nani Outrigger, Kam Faaola.

The problem has been exacerbated by increased consumption of aloha during a record run of west swells on the North Shore. Not only the Hawaiian word for hello and goodbye, the deeper meaning of aloha is the joyful sharing of life energy. It seems the increasing number of surfers from around the world, particularly the aggressive nature of the Brazilians, has caused nearly all of the aloha in local reservoirs to evaporate.

Oahu has experienced aloha shortages before, but the trouble this year is unprecedented. The government reacted this week by declaring a state of emergency to ensure that locals did not run completely dry and be unable to welcome any visitors, regardless of whether they were surfers or not, during a year in which a record four and a half million tourists were expected.

Well-known local pro Chase Harrison would not say what measures the authorities should take. But he said that "aloha shortages are a major problem, because they have an immediate impact on tourists, especially haoles who don’t know what the fuck they’re doing in the line-up at Sunset. Bra, I want to show everyone aloha, but as a local surfer there’s only so much joyful sharing of life energy I can manage."

Dwindling aloha supplies have provoked other problems. The state has warned that locals are producing just half the number of shakas they were last year. The shocking drop in the signature hand gesture of Hawaii also suggesting that the local population’s ability to “hang loose” might also be flagging.

Disgruntled Surfer Claims “Time Didn't Stand Still.” Launches Class Action.

2009-10-18T20:42:00.000-07:00

By Guest Goldminer Tim Baker

SOUTHPORT, QLD – An angry Gold Coast surfer has launched a massive lawsuit against Shaun Tomson, Gerry Lopez and large sections of the surf industry and media, claiming that tube riding is a hoax.

Garry Peabottom, of Varsity Lakes, claims he has spent thousands of dollars and most of his adolescent and adult life trying to get tubed, because he believed “the systematic, deliberate, and misleading brainwashing of the entire surf culture, that the tube riding experience would give meaning to my life.”

“Time doesn’t slow down at all,” he told a busy media scrum, outside the Southport Magistrates Court. “If anything, it’s speeded up. I was in, then I was out again. Nothing happened. I’m the same person I always was, damn it.”

In his action, Peabottom claims he had accepted the “contrived surf media lies that tube riding would be a somehow transcendental, transformative experience.”

“They’re all in on it - the pros, the companies, the mags, the video makers, selling us a pack of lies,” he claimed.

The truth, he reckoned, was that his first brief tube, during a boat trip to the Mentawais with a gang of mates, had been “maybe mildly more exciting than having a tug, and nowhere near as good as a root.”

Mounting his own case, Peabottom called several supporting witnesses to the stand.

Frank “Franger” Mitcham, a plumber from Labrador, told the court Peabottom had been obsessed with getting tubed as long as he’d known him. “He’s not that crash hot a surfer to be honest. I’ve never seen a bloke get guillotined by the lip so regularly. He had a nack for it, would just stick his head in the things as if he wanted to get it taken off. He was hilarious.”

Peabottom, a large-bodied, ungainly goofyfooter, said they had scored “sick Maccas for three days, with only me mates, a few Brazzers and a bunch of pros in the water,” he told the court.

“As soon as I saw that wave, I just went, this is the place - this is where I’m going to get my first barrel,” Peabottom testified. “For the first coupla days I just got dropped in on, blew take offs or would get into an unsteady tube squat, get sucked up the face and sail over the falls with the lip.”

Several scars on Peabottom’s forehead and elbows, he claimed, were the result of repeated scrapes with what he called “the razor sharp reef lurking just below the surface.”

“Finally, on day three, I started to get the hang of it. Oh, I still blew a lot of them, but I caught a few lazy shoulders and then worked my way up the food chain until I was in the spot when a set came.”

He described the wave as “easy double over head” and claimed he was “fully shitting meself,” as the first wave of the set approached, but managed to catch the thing and gain a clean entry.

“I just stood there and the lip threw out and over me and I managed not to fall off,” Peabottom related. “Oh, it was nice enough and the view was pretty amazing for a few moments there, but I guess it had been built up so much in my mind by all those years of brain washing that it was a bit of an anti-climax, really.”

The defence case rests on the question of whether the plaintiff was actually in the tube. Star witness “Franger” Mitcham vehemently corroborated Peabottom’s story.

“Oh, he was in there alright. None of us could bloody believe it. We were all hooting our heads off and got right on it that night, drank the boat dry and demolished the duty free in celebration of Gazzer’s barrel,” he claimed. “I thought he seemed a bit subued though, not his usual self.”

Peabottom’s suit demands substantial damages from several major surfwear labels as well as the publishers of the Surfer’s Naval magazine, known for its flowery prose on the wonders of tube-riding, a number of distinguished surf identities known to have described the tube in extravagant terms, as well as respected surf writer, Barney O’Flannery. “He’s the worst of the lot,” Peabottom told the press. “You should see the garbage he writes - active meditation, stilling the conscious mind, creating a state of Flow. What a bunch of bullshit,” Peabottom spat.

He is seeking financial compensation for the money he has spent on boards, petrol, airfares, surf camp tariffs, even magazines and movies, over a 15 year period. He is also inviting other surfers who feel they have been similarly misled to overcome their shame and come forward to tell their stories.

“It’s a hoax and I’ve been had, we’re all being had. I’ll stay home at my local beachbreak and practice my airs from now on. They are way more rad and that Dane Reynolds dude, he ain’t trying to sell shit. The one consolation out of all this is I have finally found a surf star I can trust.”

Humpback Whale to Take On Major Surf Industry Position

2009-10-11T23:32:00.000-07:00

By Guest Goldminer Nick Carroll
(with added stupid bits by GM)

SYDNEY NSW – At its annual shareholders’ meeting yesterday, well-known surf corporation MegaSurf named “Sally”, a fully grown humpback whale, as its next Vice President of Marketing.

“We’re stealing a march on Billabong,” declared MegaSurf founder Wayne Cribbage. “They’ve merely got Dave Rastovich hanging around the humpbacks. We’ve gone one step further and hired one.”

The massive whale, who measures over 14 metres from beak to fluke and spends much of her time migrating between the Southern Ocean and the species’ South Pacific breeding grounds, has no previous industry experience.

Cribbage refused to be drawn on the question of affirmative action, pointing out that most people in the surf industry have never had another job either.

“Whales just seem to be these very appealing creatures who live in the sea all year round and are in touch with the great environmental mysteries…and the environment is very important to our customers.

“Plus they’re really huge, but non-violent. And girls love them! So it’s cross-marketing.

“It just makes sense.”

“Sally”, who speaks in a series of indecipherable clicks, squeals and humming sounds which are only audible underwater, will convey her orders to her human underlings through a complex tail splashing method known as “fluke morse code”.

“She’s already told us to hire Rasta and to get involved in a global push to protect the giant Southern Ocean krill and plankton fields,” an enthusiastic Cribbage told the shareholders.

MegaSurf insiders speculate that the plumb role of Contest Director at the MegaSurf Pro Fiji will also fall squarely into Sally's barnacle-encrusted lap – a suggestion Cribbage makes no attempt to deny.

“It's early days yet but we envision Sally playing a key role in the contest's webcast at the very least.

“With our understanding of the intelligence of these creatures growing by the year – not to mention their resurgent numbers – whales themselves are potential consumers of fine MegaSurf apparel and surf goods”

“To that end, Sally will click, squeal and sing her commentary, heat by heat, from an underwater booth at the MegaSurf Pro Fiji. We hope the glorious combat of Pro Surfing will capture the imagination of Ceteceans young and old.”

It's understood Sally has agreed not to give personal 'shout outs' during the sonar-cast.

“Abuse a commentator's privileges to transmit messages to family and friends? Even I know that's completely unprofessional,” she is understood to have tapped out in her crude morse code.

Little is known yet of Sally’s views on MegaSurf's other marketing investments, but no professional surfers have been laid off or replaced.

Top MegaSurf pro Himbo Jackson – currently ranked third in the world – says he’s happy with the appointment. “Normally having a chick in charge of my salary would be a cause for concern,” Jackson said. “But since she weighs around 40 tonnes, swims faster than most small fishing vessels and can dive to colossal depths below the ocean surface, I’ll let it go for now.”

According to Cribbage, MegaSurf had “nothing to lose and everything to gain” by employing the world’s first non-human surf industry executive. “Sally is showing every sign of being a positive inclusion in our management team, going forward.

“And after all, if things don’t work out, we can always sell her to the Japanese. They love whales.”

Billabong Executives Conspiring to Wax Mick Fanning's Board with Soap.

2009-10-05T19:57:00.000-07:00

Billabong HQ, Australia – Joel Parkinson's 2009 World Title lead is to be protected 'by any means possible', a leaked internal email revealed today.

The explosive document implicates a number of individuals in Billabong's marketing team as holding secretive 'Think Tank' sessions in order to guarantee early season runaway leader Joel Parkinson stays ahead of the ASP pack come December.

“We've already printed five thousand PARKO9 commemorative tees and caps, and designs are finalised on the Numero Uno Mega Stretch Titanium Eco Champ boardies” the document states, “so unless we wanna dump this all shit into landfill ... well, thinking caps on, gentlemen.”

The email continues: “Our attempt to steal Mick's quiver in France was a mixed success. On the positive side the burglary was executed with stealth and brilliance - all nine boards were removed from the house without the occupants stirring. On the down side our contracted thief broke into the wrong apartment and took CJ Hobgood's boards instead. We put this glitch down to the fricken language barrier.”

In a conspiracy that seemingly reaches all the way to the top of the surfwear giant's sprawling executive branch, a wide and devious range of submissions are tabled in a powerpoint attachment, including:

• KIDNAP either Mick's beloved dog Taylor, or recently-sighted alter-ego Eugene, with a series of early third round exits as ransom.

• SWEAR to Mick and his entourage that Rip Curl's mobile search event has been moved from Portugal to Siberia, “Honestly”.

• HACK into Mick's twitter account and post several tweets suggesting that The Wolfpak are a bunch of effeminate shoulder-hopping homos, and that Mick could take any number of 'em down in a fistfight on any beach in the world. This could come in handy if the title race stays open until Pipe.

• WHOOPS! If Mick wins Mundaka, arrange for the traditional throw off the harbour wall to be miscued. “It's entirely possible that a mistimed throw could send the champion back on to the cobblestones on the other side of the wall” reads the rationale.

• CONTRACT a delusional evil genius to rig up a gigantic doomsday electro magnet of sorts – perhaps secreted in the iconic church overlooking Mundaka – and aim it at the metal hook in Mick's hip bone as he takes off. “It worked in an old episode of Batman” the submission reads, “so perhaps it could be applied in this case of corporate-sport-sabotage.”

• APPEAL to Mick's sense of mateship and egalatarian sense of fair play, using emotive language such as “Garn maaaaaaate, you've already got a bloody title, thought you two were mates, maaaate...” etc

The leaked corporate email dismisses all the above suggestions as “spirited but ultimately stupid.”

The document states bluntly: “We will be proceeding with 'Operation Greased Lightning' ” and provides details on the strategy to wax Fanning's boards with soap.

“A cache of Palmolive Gold soap has been bought at IGA supermarket in West Burleigh. It was purchased with petty cash so it cannot be linked back to the company's financial records. We hope to have it smuggled into Spain within 48 hours.

“It would be too suspicious if Parko himself was to waltz up and say 'Heeeey Mick, ol' buddy ol' mate ol' arch rival, let me wax your shooter with this oddly aromatic wax', so we're looking to co-opt the third member of the 'cooly kids' as an agent of sorts.

“Yes, while Mick's going through his pre-heat stretch/dance routine, none other than Dean Morrison will use his honorary status as the third 'kid' to access the inner sanctum of the comp area and apply the dastardly top coat of slippery gold that will clear the way to glory for Parko.

“Fortunately, Mick wears headphones in his pre-heat warm up, so he won't be able to hear Dean's devious and evil laughter.

“This will be the single most destructive Dingo act since Azaria Chamberlain, but without the blood – unless of course Mick slips and pierces his own scrotum with a fin, or the tip of his DHD 6'1”.”

“Mmmmmmwwwwaaaahhhhaaaahhhhaaahhhh” the document concluded.

Web Reporter Hospitalised for Multiple Personality Disorder

2009-09-30T23:16:00.000-07:00

By Guest Goldminer Tim Baker

Perth, Australia – What started as a promising, edgey career in the exciting world of new media, has ended in tragedy and finger-pointing.

Rupert Penniwinkle, work experience boy and part-time web administrator for free local surf magazine, Fully Sick, began showing worrying signs in his regular despatches on their website several months ago, but sadly no alarm bells went off among his employers, co-workers or legions of readers. What happened next may forever alter workplace laws in this country, particuarly when it comes to allowing junior staff unfettered access to the internet without supervision.

Penniwnkle’s acid-witted commentary on the surfing world had shot him to almost instant internet celebrity, among his immediate circle of friends and local cafe patrons. The parry and thrust of the comments section below each of his articles had become especially popular, as the great unwashed rank and file of the surfing world stormed the barricades and had their say. Or so it seemed ...

“It started innocently enough,” Neil O’Shannesy, Penniwinkle’s former editor, observed.
“He’d post an item, we’d all weigh in under invented names, just to get the ball rolling, to give people the idea of the kind of poison and viciousness we wanted, and they’d soon get the idea, join in and start baying for blood and hurling abuse with the best of them.”

Soon, however, O’Shannesy’s increasingly busy social calendar allowed him little time in the Fully Sick office and the former work experience boy was given complete, unsupervised access to a computer, a broadband internet connection, and the Fully Sick website’s content management system, sometimes for days at a time.

“I know, I know. It seems crazy in hindsight,” bemoans O’Shannesy. “But he seemed to pick it up right away. A natural. I showed him a bit of the nastier stuff on YouTube and he just got it. He didn’t need us any more. He adopted a few other nom de plumes and would happily engage in heated arguments with himself for hours, until someone took notice. He’d even put on different outfits for each character. And he was ruthless. He’d tear strips off anyone and anything, even himself. Our readers just loved it. I know, I’ve spoken to all of them.”

It wasn’t long, however, before these multiple identities began to compete in Penniwinkle’s brain for supremacy.

“I’d write something contentious like, I don’t know, live theatre is strictly for wankers. If no one bit, I’d chime in with an empassioned defence of the exact opposition,” explains Penniwinkle, a little wearily, and clearly under the influence of powerful medication.

“Then I’d abuse myself and before I knew it I was at my own throat, literally,” Penniwinkle reccounts vividly, grabbing himself forecefully by the scruff of the neck.“The third man in usually wrote the other two off, and so it went. There was a kind of crazy beauty to it, like releasing the hounds. It felt fantastic just to let all these mad, illogical, mutually contradictory thoughts out into the world and let them run like brushfires. It was wonderful to see the readers join in with a kind of mass blood lust. To incite the power of the mob! I felt .... for a moment ...” Penniwinkle pauses, regards the stark surrounds of the hospital ward. “Glorious,” he whispers.

Though hospital visitations are strictly limited and supervised, Penniwinkle is already beginning the painful process of putting the pieces back together - feeding and toileting himself, taking short walks with the aid of a zimmer frame, even visiting a corner street for cigarettes and breath fresheners.

Penniwinkle is currently allowed closely monitored, half hour sessions of internet time each day.

“They’re still there, the voices, but I just try to igore them mainly,” Penniwinkle explains seriously. “Oh, I get itchy fingers from time to time. But then I remind myself what I’ve learned here in the occupational therapy classes. How we are all one and interconnected.” He breathes a heavy sigh. “I had no idea. I thought that’s what the internet was for. Why didn’t someone tell me?”

Back at Fully Sick HQ O’Shannesy and publisher Phillip Nolan are re-assessing Penniwinkle’s future.

“I reckon he’ll be good at selling ads,” declares Nolan, with a sudden, broad grin. “That bloke would sell a rat’s arse to a blind man as a wedding ring. We’re going to conjure a win out of all this one way or another.”

Complete Bitch Chooses to Read Magazine on Beach Instead of Watching, Transfixed in Awe, as Boyfriend Surfs

2009-09-27T19:13:00.000-07:00

Fairhaven, Victoria – It could be splitsville for teen power couple Grant Edmonds and Marcia Davis, sources close to the pair revealed today.

Mr Edmonds is reportedly fuming over a perceived snub from long term girlfriend Davis, who is said to have paid more attention to her copy of Cleo magazine than to her partner's surfing.

This, despite Edmonds deliberately choosing to surf a peak directly in front of her, and hooting loudly when paddling into a wave so as to sound the alert.

“We've been together for like three whole months. I just can't reconcile such an ice cold bitch act with the same princess who's so nice and sweet she won't even let me finger her,” said a clearly upset Edmonds.

“Every time I did like a heaps good reo and that I'd look back to the beach and she wouldn't even be looking UP.

“You think you know someone, and BAM, they spit in your face.”

Friends report Edmonds spent the first 20 minutes of his two-hour surf wondering aloud if Ms Davis was watching him or not.

Edmonds' consulted with good friend and surfing partner Andy Matthews.

“I told him it was hard to tell, ay,” says Matthews “Maybe she could have had an eye on the lineup over the top of the page. I'd say at that stage it was a 50 50 call if she was watching Grant or not.”

Witnesses claim Edmonds' confusion over whether his girl was marveling at his surf skills or being a total bitch drove him to attempt ever more ambitious manoeuvers to draw her attention away from the worthless junk she was reading.

“Hell yeah, Grant was going for it” smiled Mathews. “He does these forehand reos where he'll fall off the back of the wave, like the wave's long gone, but he's still in the layback position with both feet planted on the board but he's floating on his back in the water.

“He was holding that pose for about five seconds, just to make sure Marcia could check the style.”

From 10.30 am onwards, Ms Davis turned away and lay on her stomach, continuing to read her magazine. This was met with a tirade of foul language and vigorous splashing of water by Edmonds.

Despite Ms Davis's protests later that day that she saw Edmonds catch heaps of waves, and her assurances that he was surfing very impressively – far better in fact than practically anyone else out there – the formerly inseperable lovebirds are said to be barely on speaking terms.

To further complicate matters, one of Ms Davis's best friends – on condition of anonymity – has revealed to the Goldmine that at last Saturday's surf club disco, Ms Davis allowed herself to be fingered by Edmonds' mate Andy Matthews up in the Anglesea SLSC lookout tower.

“She was giving Andy a wristy at the time,” our source adds.

Pro Surfer Stunned To Find Other Surfers Pay for Equipment

2009-09-21T21:44:00.000-07:00

By Guest Goldminer Nick Carroll

GOLD COAST, AUSTRALIA – Well known professional surfer Jerusha Rake was overwhelmed today at a surf shop opening meet-and-greet session after he discovered that almost all the people in the shop were intending to buy pieces of surfing equipment with money out of their own pockets.

“How much??” Rake gasped, after a tiny child with a limp – who’d saved for two years to afford a trip to meet his hero – explained that he may never own a new surfboard, since they commonly cost between $700 to $1000.

“This is incredible! I thought everyone just got ‘em for free.”

The dazzling superstar, whose autograph was much in demand from the fawning, unkempt crowd, was further stunned to discover that most people earn around this sum for a week’s work.

Eyes wide with amazement, Rake listened as members of the public assured him that they did not own a series of expensive beachside properties, nor were five-figure sums deposited mysteriously in their personal bank accounts each month.

Nor did they visit Tahiti, Indonesia, South Africa and Europe in the same year, if ever.

Indeed, many were forced to justify the slightest purchase of surf related goods to spouses and girlfriends, who they claimed were “always on about the mortgage”.

Other prices, such as the $600 for a top of the line wetsuit and $100-plus for a pair of flexible boardshorts, came as an added shock to the heroic young professional.

“It seems extraordinary,” he muttered, tears visibly springing to his eyes. “I mean, I don’t even carry a wallet, for christ’s sake.”

A weeping Rake had to be comforted for some time in an adjoining room by several of the attractive blonde shop assistants.

Rake plans to start a charity to make sure no professional surfer ever has to withstand the cold horror of forking out for the likes of legropes, wax, shoes, clothing, wetsuits and surfboards, at least until their golden years are behind them.

“This evening has been a real lesson to me,” he asserted, as he was cheered from the store.

“It’s one thing for the public to have to cough up for this stuff – after all, I suppose they’re only human. Likewise for those rat bastard grovellers on the WQS. But what if this contagious idea spread up the ranks of the sport? We’d end up paying our own salaries. Where’s the sense in that?

“I won’t stand by and watch as our freedom to surf is eroded by the profit motive. It can’t be allowed. Not unless you’re an aging ex-pro, a chick, a regular Joe or some other random.”

Meanwhile, back at the grand opening, several shoppers angrily defended Rake’s right to colossal quantities of freebies and a vast salary in excess of the Australian Prime Minister’s, or indeed US President Barack Obama’s. “He (Jerusha Rake) is sick, he does sick airs and hacks,” shouted Logan resident Ivan Denisovich, proudly sporting a pair of brand sunglasses for which he had paid $300. “Rakey’s worth every cent I just spent and more. If he has to pay for stuff, I’m giving up surfing.”

Bored Surf Cam Stalks Beachgoers

2009-09-14T20:42:00.000-07:00

Sydney, NSW, Australia – In a chilling portent of a future where robots rule the earth, a Bondi surf cam has overridden its settings and now spends most of its time panning the beach for hot chicks in bikinis.

Surfsearch.com users recently noticed the errant behavior during an unseasonably warm spell.

“We had a few complaints and figured that some idiot was pointing the cam back towards the beach,” says Surfsearch’s editor Don Williams.

“We just figured some local kids were stuffing us round.”

However, the following saturday saw a small swell coincide with above-average temperatures, and once again, website administrators were alerted to the cam's behavior.

“I logged on to check it out and it became obvious we've got an oversexed, easily distracted surf cam on our hands here,” says a clearly perplexed Williams.

“It basically couldn't give a rat's about the surf. It just trawls the beach relentlessly for arse.

“When it locks in on a topless backpacker it'll tilt itself 15 degrees, and zoom in and out repeatedly.

“It focused on a pack of Brazilians and did the zoom-in-zoom-out thing for five minutes, while producing a credible bass-heavy wka wka porny soundtrack.

“From what I can tell it’s got a soft spot for joggers: get two lithe chicks with their hair in ponytails jogging the promenade, and the lens clouds up pretty quick.

“That said, it’s not fussy: every female between 16 and 60 gets the full once-over.”

To compound matters, the rogue cam has managed to route into Surfsearch’s complex mainframe and has been sending rudimentary binary communications back to headquarters.

“We're not 100% certain, but we're pretty sure he wants to be known as ‘Stefan’ ” says Williams.

Disturbingly, ‘Stefan’ has managed to shear off one of its positioning brackets and now has the ability to track unsuspecting females off the beach and up into any nearby dwellings.

Authorities urge local residents, particularly those on the northern headland, to draw their curtains at nightfall.

In further developments, some key cameras in Surfsearch’s national network are displaying early signs of autonomous thought: neighbouring Palm Beach and Currumbin cams in Queensland occasionally lock into an intense stare-off; all South Australian cams have been humming the Jaws theme on dusk; Victoria's Anglesea Cam subliminally flashes images of Teahupo'o into vision of its notoriously weak Junket Bowl section, and the Avalon surf cam appears to be fixated on its own reflection in a nearby window.

Nonetheless, the Bondi surf cam is the most pressing concern for the Surfsearch crew.

“We’re trying to get Stefan to agree to counselling’’ says Williams, “but he tells us to go fuck ourselves.”

Goat Boats Petition for Inclusion in Surf Culture

2009-09-07T18:56:00.000-07:00

By Guest Goldminer Nick Carroll

Surf Council of Australia Building, Canberra: Well known wave ski rider Jack “Pimple” McFlurry today made a passionate public plea for he and his sit-down brethren to be permitted within the sacred halls of surfing culture.

McFlurry, who has spent much of the past 35 years wistfully gazing at the super cool, long-haired, rebellious, drug-taking young hellions of the Australian shortboard revolution from the deck of his fluorescent-painted wedge-shaped craft, issued his plea while lodging a petition with the Surf Council of Australia.

The petition’s request? Nothing less than Let My People Come Home.

“Surely the time has come for our patience and dedication to be rewarded!” gasped McFlurry,

“Everybody else has come and gone. Modern mals are out the back at every good surf spot and nobody says boo. ASP world champions are frolicking about on Stand Up Paddleboards. Top Pipeline riders go in bodyboarding contests. People pay thousands of dollars for bits of wood and hundreds of dollars for surf lessons. Some surfers are even clubbies.

“Yet we remain scorned.”

When it was pointed out that this may have something to do with his employment of a seat belt on his choice of craft, McFlurry burst into tears.

“We don’t expect a sequence in Jack McCoy’s next Academy Award nominated saga of truth and oceanic magnificence. We know Rasta isn’t going to ride a goat-boat at Sunset Beach. But we’re core! We know we are!

“Just a simple ‘g’day’ as we stagger down the beach under our weighty load of equipment. Is that too much to ask?”

The Surf Council has reserved its decision, though bursts of muffled laughter and a “What the FUCK?!” could be heard from beyond its chamber doors upon receipt of the petition.

It is believed the Council is considering a “Pacific solution” to the goat boat issue, wherein goat-boaters will be permitted to go about their business unmocked, but only if they’re on an uninhabited island in the central Pacific Ocean.

Meanwhile, McFlurry and several colleagues have mounted a Goat Boat Embassy outside the Council building, their overweight middle-aged figures grouped mournfully around a tepee made from their oddly shaped boats and plastic double-ended paddles.

A promise to only eat cool surfer-type foods at the Embassy – raw fish, lentil soup and the like – was unfortunately broken late this evening when an emissary went to a nearby McDonalds.

Global Clown Congress Descends on Local Break.

2009-08-30T19:09:00.000-07:00

TOONALOOK POINT, EAST COAST AUSTRALIA: Circus lovers of all ages were treated to an unexpected day of delights as winter's last decent swell coincided with the arrival of a contingent of clowns from the world over.

First to arrive on the scene was renowned circus tramp Otto Griebling, who cut a lonely figure, waxing his clown-board under a solitary street light in the pre-dawn darkness.

Otto, who paddled out off the beach, rode several waves on the end section in a mournful manner, suggesting that his was a lonely existence indeed. Early rising onlookers were said to be close to tears.

Witnesses report this melodramatic opening act was shortlived, however, as a several tiny cars swerved comically into the carpark and began disgorging implausibly large numbers of occupants. As many as twelve representatives of the famed Brazilian clowning and tumbling fraternity were seen falling out of a single early-model Suzuki Swift.

“I didn't know whether to laugh or cry” says local fisherman Tom Parrish. “seeing up to 20 of ’em, all trying to reach the same jump rock at once, challenging passers-by to 'smell my flower' and getting their implausibly large shoes stuck between the boulders – then choosing the exact wrong time to launch...”

Impressively though, a troupe of surfing Charivari clowns of unknown origin turned on a splendid routine of acrobatic maneuvers and spirited jumps off a mini trampoline and vaulting horse positioned on the high tide ledge, and out into the lineup, whereupon they paddled north around the headland never to be seen again.

By 9.00am, the scene at Toonalook was one of no-holds-barred comic gaiety. And as the traditional circus tune floated out over the lineup, local clown Frank Saluto pedalled furiously along the foreshore on a bike the size of a small briefcase, angrily denouncing the number of clowns who had invaded his break.

According to spectators, Saluto approached a trio of Japanese Harlequins performing a humorously synchronised stretching routine on the foreshore and accosted them.

“You're all a bunch of clowns” Frank shouted, “And I'm going to throw this bucket of water over you. Oh yes I am!”

The more the terrified Harlequins protested that Saluto not douse them with the bucket of water, the more animated and insistent Saluto became, until after a protracted theatrical exchange he finally threw the contents of the bucket at them.

Thankfully, the bucket contained not water, but confetti.

“That'll learn yas. Now Fuck Off!” Saluto reportedly exclaimed, taking a deep bow.

“Fucken Clowns.”

As the tide dropped and the swell became less consistent, several custard pie skirmishes were reported from the lineup, the most intense exchanges occurring when ageing campaigner Chester Sherman appeared on a Stand Up Paddleboard with a unicycle and a separate set of handlebars, giving the appearance of a bike-that-comes-apart.

Regular clowns applauded Sherman's follies but the moment he edged into the take-off zone, a number of clowns engaged in the time-honoured 'chase' routine, whereupon they set upon Sherman with most convincing mock violence.

Despite the physically draining nature of the clowning routines – the pulling away of chairs at the last moment, the construction of balloon animals, the pulling of an endlessly long hankerchief from one's pocket – the impromptu carnival lasted from dawn to dusk: as one troop of clowns tired of performing, there appeared innumerable replacement clowns willing to take their place.

One notable exception to this was famed french Pierrot clown Bernard Delfont, who spent the day slouched against the bonnet of his citroen clownmobile, and upon being asked when he was intending to join the frivolity in the water, responded with 'Pfffffft', and flicked his cigarette butt at your reporter.

By nightfall however, calm had been restored. The circus had moved on, and even Otto the tramp was reportedly nowhere to be seen. The only traces of the day was scattered confetti and numerous rubber chickens littering the high tide line.

Internet Fails to Accurately Forecast Brief Flat Spell

2009-08-23T22:05:00.000-07:00

By Guest Goldminer Nick Carroll.

Toonalook Point, East Coast Australia – Local Surfers pronounced themselves furious today after they claimed the Internet had not warned them about a lull just before lunchtime.

The lull, which appeared in the midst of an otherwise consistent five foot south east swell, left numerous surfers sitting out the point for over 10 minutes.

“It was like the swell had vanished,” claimed apprentice plumber John Jones, who’d paddled out at around 11am after getting a downpipe installed earlier than expected. “One minute it was pumping, then the next it was pretty much flat. I was worried I might not get back in before me boss got down for the lunch surf check and busted me.”

Sets began rolling in again fairly soon, but not before a number of surfers and onlookers had begun asking serious questions as to why the Internet had not predicted the lull.

“It’s this sort of unreasonable inaccuracy that causes us to lose faith in this Internet thing,” declared old time local surfer Paul “Piggy” Smith, while others murmured their assent in the background.

“People talk it up, but if the technology was all it’s cracked up to be, it surely woulda warned us about this.”

A spokesman for the Internet later explained that the gigantic global computer network, which links together literally millions of separate databases and server farms into a vast, shadowy electronic web ominously similar to the human-extinction-seeking Skynet from the Terminator film series, had suffered a “glitch”.

Meanwhile, back at the Point, a number of surfers declared they would not be venturing into the water again until they could be sure the forecast was flawlessly accurate. “I’m on surf strike,” said Harry Harolds, a financial services advisor up from Melbourne on holiday. “It doesn’t make sense to waste the effort of paddling out when you can’t be sure there’ll be a set in 25 minutes’ time.

“If the Internet was this hopeless with forecasting the stock market, imagine the state of the world economy. It just can’t go on.”

Shock Claim: Modern Collective Actually More Postmodern Than Modern.

2009-08-14T21:12:00.000-07:00

SAT 15TH AUGUST 2009 – Erratic celebrity demographic analyst Dr Phil Warner has stunned the world of surf academia with a puzzling essay published last week in respected grown-ups journal Quadrant.

Dr Warner postulates that Modern Collective – a band of talented young surfers and filmmakers – has evolved beyond Modernism into the-harder-to-define-creative genre of Postmodernism.

Controversially, Warner argues that the instant Modern Collective came into being, Postmodernism's ironic shadow began to fall over the plucky troupe.

“Surely even coupling the words 'Modern' and 'Collective' is sheer Postmodernism in itself” Warner writes in his typically ill-informed manner.

For the uninitiated, Modernism is broadly defined as a rejection of the immediate past – thumbing its nose at the the certainty of accepted thinking. It's a self-conscious genre of artistic expression, where the process – the act of creation – is as important as the work itself.

“In these respects, the modus operandi of Modernism suits Modern Collective down to the ground” Warner continues in a rare moment of clarity. “These athletes are light years ahead of the pack, and combined with Filmmaker Neville's deft touch there's daylight between the Collective and the rest.”

“Interestingly though, the moment a breakaway flourishes, it becomes a target of sorts, and all manner of counter-dynamics come in to play. A sense of world-weariness and irony infuses the moment.

“Surf magazine forums play host to increasingly vitriolic commentary – a reaction on the part of the everyman, perhaps, who sheds admiration for envy and soon drifts to disdain.

“The young athletes in question are simply doing what any 20 year old with cash and talent would do, yet through the merciless prism of new media – the generic rage of the bedroom-bound forum-hound – the perceived line between rebel and establishment blurs.

“Though their personality has not changed a jot, the anti-hero is soon regarded as a bit of a dick. A customised wetsuit that might have once seemed subversive is now the affectation of a dandy and a fop.”

Midway through his ill-conceived essay, Dr Warner appears to abandon structured prose for a more stream-of-consciousness approach.

“The kids can't win: they're ridiculed for wearing anything remotely fashionable; for wandering into country cafes with sticker-covered laptops; for ordering their eggs benedict; for preferring an onshore ruffle; even for innocently mentioning a creative ambition or two, and – God forbid – referring to surfing their brains out as 'work'.

“Cornered, the Collective scramble for ever rarified territories of fuck-you-we-do-what-we-want – getting inked, tossing money like so much toilet paper away to incredulous croupiers, jaded binges ... possibly white-anting a dignified middle age down the line.”

Dr Warner, possibly writing in a state of drug-induced psychosis towards the end of his essay, continues:

“Look close into the eyes of these acrobatic darlings and you see the haunted clouds of Modernism and Post Modernism colliding in a perfect storm. Or, to borrow a metaphor from politically unsound fable Little Black Sambo, these conflicting genres are the two fighting tigers – who chase eachother's tails, faster and faster, incessantly until they melt into butter.”

For his closing argument, Warner goes on to compare Modern Collective with the Angry Penguins – an Australian breakaway literary and artistic movement of the 40s, the first two seasons of Desperate Housewives, and seminal '70s American music outfit Grand Funk Railroad, (which explains the photo back up the top, if the reader has made it this far).

Confused 'Bring Back Kirra' Supporter Starting to Really Miss the Superbank.

2009-08-09T22:47:00.000-07:00

SUN 9TH AUG, COOLANGATTA – One of surfing's most enthusiastic “Save Kirra” proponents has been sighted on Greenmount Hill in a state of great uncertainty, sources report today.

Mark Britmore spent upwards of half an hour leaning dejectedly on the railing of the popular lookout, which affords a sweeping panorama from Snapper Rocks, through Rainbow Bay, Greenmount and through to Kirra.

Where once the three foot swell would have provided Mr Britmore and others with a snappy righthander from Snapper through to Coolangatta, the Tweed Heads surfer struggled to identify a section worth paddling out into.

“This isn't what I had in mind when I called for a return to the good old days” complained the 34 year old self-employed mechanic. “I wanted all-time Kirra AND The Superbank but now I've got farken nuthin'.”

Friends and family claim they first noticed a lessening in Britmore's conviction in early July after a run of frustrating sessions in the Coolangatta area.

“Originally, Mark was quite the evangelist about the need to bring Kirra back,” Mr Britmore's father, Stan, told The Goldmine.

“Should have seen him after the Australia Day 'Save Kirra' rally and paddle-out in January – came over for dinner that night draped in an Aussie flag, sunburnt and drunk, and told us all how criminal it was that the Superbank had effectively buried surfing's priceless jewel under tonnes of sand, and that he wouldn't rest until Kirra was restored and everyone was getting the shacks of their lives.

“I didn't have the heart to point out to the lad that if Kirra ever did come back, there wouldn't exactly be the same sense of camaraderie that everyone felt during the Oz Day paddle-out, and he could basically look forward to a Superbank-sized crowd getting condensed into single, tight take off zone.”

Stan – a lifelong Coolangatta resident who's surfed the area for four decades, continued:

“I also didn't want to prick his bubble by pointing out that the nostalgic testimonials delivered by the celebrity locals – where they described Kirra as providing the 'most incredible barrels of their lives' – well, shit, some of em musta been fricken 12 years old back then, so their recollections are undoubtedly distorted by the passage of time and the wide-eyed wonder of youth.

“Call me a cynical old bugger,” the 60-year-old chuckled, “but one minute the superbank's the greatest thing since sliced bread, the next it's the villian and boo-frickedy-hoo-cry-me-a-river for Kirra... let's not forget that Kirra'd sometimes only get epic a handful of times a year anyway, and generally needed a shitload of swell to get moving if it wasn't angled in just-so from the east.

“Nah, I've kept those thoughts to meself ... and it's been good for Mark, at least he's got a cause to get behind. But I think he's in for a bit of a letdown when Kirra shapes up again.”

“He's also been getting a bit wistful about the good old days of the Superbank. That didn't take long.”

Sources close to the Britmore family say that Mark's seven-year-old son Tyler could be the biggest victim if the reborn Kirra doesn't live up to expectations.

Until recently, Tyler's bed-time stories have been exclusively devoted to the mythical break.

“Daddy told me stories and he swore they were true – how every day at Kirra was better than the day before, that the water was actually lemonade, the rock groyne was made of chocolate, swells came in million-wave sets, and the Pizza Hut employed fairies who'd fly out the back with slices of super-supreme so you could stay out and surf all day with no-one but your bestest friends ever.

“Sometimes when Daddy would tell me these stories he'd start crying and I'd ask him 'why are you crying Daddy?' and he'd tell me it was because he thought that maybe Kirra was too beautiful for this world.”

When pressed for further comment, Mark Britmore held his hand up to the wind, groaning “FARK! Now it's goin' farken northerly!” – and wondered aloud about forming an action group to raise awareness about the injustices of spring.

Rebel ESPN Surf Tour – A short documentary.

2009-08-09T21:49:00.000-07:00

Average Surfer Disappointed To Find Self Not Surfing Like Joel Parkinson After Purchase Of Joel Parkinson Model Surfboard.

2009-08-04T17:25:00.000-07:00

By Guest Goldminer Tim Fisher

WEDNESDAY 5TH AUGUST, Curl Curl NSW – After a highly anticipated first-surf on his new board this morning, Beacon Hill surfer Boyd McKillop emerged from the water with a sense of deep puzzlement at his performance, sources close to the 31-year-old stated today.

The cause of McKillop’s bewilderment stems from the recent purchase of a Joel Parkinson signature model produced by Gold Coast manufacturer JS Industries.

Well-known surfboard creator Jason “JS” Stevenson based the “Parko” model around designs for team rider and worldwide surfing celebrity Joel Parkinson.

Of the model, the JS Industries website says it “is built around Joel’s progressive manoeuvers and seamless flow that continues to push surfing boundaries each year.”

McKillop, who has met neither Mr Stevenson or Mr Parkinson, was crediting the Parko model with a vast improvement in his own surfing as early as 4.30pm yesterday, while still in the carpark of Pacific Juice Surfxess, Manly.

Despite not having ridden the board, he put his confidence down to Parkinson’s incredible competitive year and an email received last week via popular social networking website Facebook.

“When I saw that post from JS on Facebook saying the Parko signature model will blow your mind … well, I’m not usually a sucker for advertising, but I’ve always watched Parko’s video parts and thought I kinda approach waves the same way he does.

“I realised that one of the major obstacles in my own performance was simply that I’ve had the wrong equipment under my feet for years.

“Besides,” McKillop added, “the guy in the surfshop reckoned this board would suit me to the ground. And he threw in a free block of wax.”

Longtime surf partner Ray Greive was present during McKillop’s first session on the Parko model, and says he wasn't surprised by McKillop's latest purchase of celebrity-endorsed hardware.

“Boydy's always been a bit of a sucker for pro gear. When Billabong brought out those ‘Rising Sun’ boardies that year Andy was going for his last world title, Boydy was the first person on the Northern Beaches to buy a pair. And I’ve often heard him scoff at other mates for buying a cheap Balin or O&E tailpad, instead of the Bruce Irons signature pad he swears by.”

Witnesses of McKillop’s first session on the Parko model say early signs were promising – sprinting down the beach and paddling around the lineup with a striking degree of confidence and excitement.

Sadly, this enthusiasm did not increase McKillop’s success with any of his regulation manoeuvres, which include floaters, and three-stage cutbacks. Several awkward changes in direction not consistent with the smooth style Parkinson is known for were also reported.

“The board’s way too narrow and thin for Boyd,” said Grieve. “Not that I’d tell him that. He’s so psyched on it, but you could tell straight away he’s going to struggle with the thing. I mean, the bloke’s never done a vertical re-entry in his life, and you wouldn’t exactly describe him as an in-the-pocket kinda surfer.

“The board looks amazing, but it's not gonna help him get to his feet in one smooth motion.”

McKillop, who spent several hours studying the Parko signature model on the JS Industries website before his purchase, responded indignantly to suggestions that the subtleties of a finely tuned professional-model may not result in the expected quantum leap in his own surfing performance.

“They reckon this is the best board EVER produced,” McKillop said, his voice rising slightly. “If the most naturally gifted surfer in the world is riding them, they speak for themselves.

“I’m kinda surprised my reos weren’t a bit sharper, sure, and there was that carving 360 where I came unstuck at the end, but give me a week to feel out the rail and I reckon you’ll be watching a different surfer.”

The yawning chasm between McKillop and Parkinson both in and out of the water was compounded when McKillop made his way up the beach to a maroon 1989 model Ford Telstar. Kneeling next to the front bumper to retrieve his hidden car key, he paused briefly as a group of young women made their way to the beach. The three girls, aged between 19 and 22, did not return McKillop’s glances, despite the Parko signature model clearly visible next to him on the gravel.

When contacted about the morning’s events, both Jason Stevenson and Joel Parkinson declined comment.

Dog and Master Reunited after Master Seemingly Vanishes Off Face of the Earth for 40-minute Surf.

2009-07-27T22:21:00.000-07:00

TUES. JULY 28, WEST COAST, VICTORIA – 33 year old Airey's Inlet surfer Jason Bridgeford has been found safe and well, miraculously stepping back out of a mysterious other-world to rejoin the land of the living, his dog told all within earshot on the beach yesterday.

'Nugget', a four-year-old Border Collie Kelpie Cross – who had all but given up hope of seeing his master alive again greeted Bridgeford at the water's edge, breathlessly and loudly exclaiming “you're back you're back you're back oh my god I can't believe it's really you don't you ever leave me like that but I can't be angry at you oh god I love you so much I thought I'd never see you again” and wagging his tail vigorously.

The ordeal began mid-morning after a wetsuit-clad Bridgeford and Nugget descended the muddy track down to the beach at semi-secret point break Sunnymead.

Nugget's hopes for a companionable romp on the foreshore – perhaps an endless fetch-and-throw exchange involving a manky tennis ball – were dashed as they reached the sand and Bridgeford issued stern instructions to “Stay here and mind the towel.”

According to onlookers, Nugget initially disobeyed the wishes of his master and accompanied him to the water's edge, imploring him not to leave.

“As a canine, specific short-term-recall isn't exactly my forté, but there was definitely a weird sense of deja vu about this whole scenario,” says Nugget.

“And I didn't like it one bit. No sir.

“You have to understand, this man's a God to me – my one and only source of food, of joy, tummy scratches and ball throwing – and here he was, wading out into this mysterious and threatening other-world that I could not follow him into.

“I did my best to stay with him. God knows I tried. But the further I ventured the more my paws lost traction. Like I was running in outer space or something. It was weird, cold and freaky. I had to turn back, and pray to the Lord above that my Beloved Commandant would do likewise.”

Witnesses report an increasingly agitated Nugget pacing the water's edge, calling out in vain to the fast-vanishing Deity, before returning to the towel.

“Worst thing is any scent trail allowing you to to keep tabs of your One-And-Only just vanishes at the edge between the two worlds.” recalls Nugget.

“It's a nightmare. Words can't describe the shock, the confusion, the abandonment.”

Thus began Nugget's torturous 40 minute vigil – an interminable five hours in dog time – where the bereft hound's mood swung from stoic optimism, to a brooding floppy-eared melancholy that not even the intriguing allure of a passing-by Labrador could soothe.

“Sure, I checked that Labrador's anus out – I felt that Beloved Light-Of-My-Life would want me to get on with things as best I could – but I was just going through the motions as I jammed my nose into that Lab's arse.”

“When you lose interest in these things, you know you're not doing well, but you have to keep going.”

To get through the anxious uncertainty of waiting, Nugget called on all his strength to maintain a routine of sorts: primarily scratching behind his ears and licking his balls.

But in the cruellest of developments, Nugget fell victim to several allegedly heartless pranks as other figures approximating Bridgeford's form emerged from the blue beyond, only revealing themselves to be lesser humans on closer inspection.

“Bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard” Nugget was heard to exclaim to every perpetrator of these false alarms.

Indeed, witnesses report that it was with cautious suspicion that a heartbroken and wary Nugget approached the emerging figure of Bridgeford – who after getting a nice little barrel decided it was probably time to come in.

“I thought, here we go again, another prick pretending to be my Personal Jesus and break my heart into a million pieces... but as he got closer and called out 'ya crazy boofhead mongrel' I knew that life was once again worth living, The Chosen One was safe and I was the happiest dog in the fricken universe.”

With emotion running high, a brief bout of recrimination and sulking ensued when Nugget refused to get in the car, and had to be lifted up into the back seat.

“I just wanted to be held” he would later confess.

Bridgeford and Nugget returned to their Airey's Inlet home by lunch, to be greeted by Mrs Bridgeford's Burmese cat, who reportedly yawned “Oh dear, I was rather hoping you two dickheads had drowned.”

As we go to press, Nugget is anxiously watching his master make some toast and hoping with all his heart and soul for some benevolent crusts, as he's pretty sure he can't make it through to dinner time.

Brazilian Surfers Annoyed By Travelling Aussies.

2009-07-19T20:09:00.000-07:00

By Guest Goldminer Nick Carroll

SAO PAULO, BRAZIL – Surfers at Guaruja, one of Brazil's most popular surfing areas, today expressed their annoyance and irritation at what they claim is offensive surfing behaviour by packs of travelling Australians.

"It's just too much," said local identity Luiz Resende. "They come over here with their attitudes, paddle out in groups of up to four or five at a time, and start catching waves like they own the joint."

Additionally, according to Resende, the Australians "keep yelling out to each other in their coarse, barely understandable English - something we, as native Portuguese speakers, find almost unbearably irritating."

Australians have become known among surfers worldwide for their constant travelling, often booking out entire boats in the Mentawai Islands in Sumatra and showing up as groups at well-known surf locations.

Surfers from other nations have often complained about the so-called "Aussies" and their apparently obnoxious behaviour, sometimes seemingly fuelled by excessive drugs and alcohol.

But, says Resende, the latest incursions at the renowned Guaruja beachbreaks - where top Brazilian surfers have been born and bred for generations - are beyond the pale. "Aussies just have no respect for our surfing culture, which has been built up for decades," he declared, while colleagues nodded in agreement.

"They think it's OK just to paddle out and start taking off on any wave they want. Then when we call 'em out, they pretend not to understand what we're saying to 'em."

The locals also said they were increasingly annoyed by Australians who used visa loopholes to extend their stays in Guaruja and other popular surfing areas, working in restaurants and bars and starting up businesses. "They think we want to eat at their 'barbecues' and attend lessons in how to play Rugby League football! Well, this is the land of grilled meats and World Cup soccer championships. I'm sorry, but there's nothing they can show us that we aren't already magnificent at.

"Of course, there is one thing we don't mind - they can bring their women over here any time they like. We hear those Aussie chicks will do anything."

Some Brazilian surfers said they had even been threatened with violence by Australians, who, they said, claimed to be experts in the feared Australian martial art, "biffo".

"We understand why Australians would want to leave their country - especially if it's full of other Australians," said Resende. "And we understand why they would want to come here, to God's country, where everything is pretty much perfect.

"All we're saying is - shut the fuck up, stop catching waves, and learn to speak Portuguese before you come here, or we will direct relentless amounts of covert hostility at you."

'Pacific Solution' Proposed To Reclaim Ocean to Pristine Glory.

2009-07-15T17:22:00.000-07:00

Thursday 16th July, Oceanic Survey Institute, Berkley California – Scientists and Ecologists are proposing a radical solution to the 100 million tons of plastic waste circulating in what's known as the North Pacific Gyre.

“It's estimated that there are 46,000 pieces of plastic, most no bigger than a penny, floating on every square mile of the North Pacific, which is devastating marine life.” says the Institute's head of research Sylvia Watson.

“We intend to deploy squadrons of Sweepers – otherwise known as Stand Up Paddlers – to clean this up, square metre by square metre...”

The controversial proposal comes on the back of the institute's annual blue-sky-ideas summit at the OCI, where left-field thinking is encouraged.

“It's refreshing to run unconventional concepts up the flagpole and not have them immediately torn down by economists, analysts and bureaucrats” says Dr Ken Yager, who has been modelling the Pacific Solution concept in his backyard pool in Ventura County.

Dr Yager, himself an enthusiast of the conventional 'short' surfboard, says the idea came to him one morning as he arrived at his local break to find 'an army' of stand up paddlers edging towards the surf zone.

“My first reaction was that these people belonged elsewhere – perhaps far out to sea where they could do no harm – so as not to blight the inshore seascape.

“It didn't take long to reconcile their inane – some say janitorial – paddling motion with the environmental crisis that's looming over the literal and metaphorical horizon.”

According to Dr Yager's scenario, up to 50, 000 stand up paddlers would be dispatched from numerous motherships in two classic 'vee' formations, one sweeping west to east, the other east-west, and meeting mid-ocean in a classic pincer movement to create a 'small island' of plastic for removal.

Though critics of the plan are sceptical that 50,000 Stand Up Paddle volunteers could be found and mobilised, Dr Yager is confident of attaining volunteer numbers for the programme, suggesting that Stand Up Paddlers would respond well if the request was framed in an appealing context.

“Basically, call for help with a vital environmental programme and they'd run a mile, but tell 'em it's a chance to join the 'Vanguard of A Waterman Eco-Warrior Collective' and they'll fall over themselves in the rush to sign up.

“As empty a catch-cry as it is laughable, the sheer word 'Waterman' is catnip for these people.”

The scientific community remains divided over phase two of Yager's Pacific Solution, which involves vaporising both the collected rubbish and 50,000 sweepers with a single nuclear blast.

“Ah yes, the nuclear option, I was waiting for that line of enquiry” chuckled Dr Yager. “But let's keep things in context – this was a blue-sky ideas summit where radical ideas were there to be heard.

“It's unlikely a mid-ocean thermo-nuclear blast would be accepted by the international community. Though an irradiated ocean might be a fair price to pay for the final eradication of such annoying and useless detritus, it would be a shame to lose all that potentially recyclable plastic.”

When asked about the fate of the 50,000 Stand Up Paddlers in such a scenario, Dr Yager smiled and repeated slowly “what part of 'annoying ... and ... useless ... detritus' don't you understand?"

Shock Survey Finds a Percentage of Jet Ski Enthusiasts to be Decent Human Beings

2009-07-05T20:51:00.000-07:00

July 4, SYDNEY AUSTRALIA: – A whopping eight percent of all recreational jet ski riders are pleasant enough people, with respect for the ocean and its inhabitants, a nationwide study has found.

Findings of the two-year research project led by Professor Steven Harland, head of Human Behaviour Studies at Wentworth University, challenges the widely-held assumption that all jet ski enthusiasts are clueless buffoons with an infantile-at-best appreciation of the environmental and spiritual reality of the world around them.

“If there's one key finding out of this survey, it's that we write off ALL recreational jet ski riders as noisy, polluting, ignorant pricks at our own peril” says Professor Harland.

“While the vast majority of recreational jet ski riders are, indeed distinctly challenged in key areas of intelligence and simple awareness, we have found that there does exist a small minority of recreational jet ski riders who are completely decent human beings, capable of empathy, respect, of love and being loved.”

Though the survey offers some hope for the humanity of jet ski enthusiasts, much of the research findings were predictably condemnatory.

“Sadly, the overall picture this survey paints isn't pretty,” says Harland. “The majority of recreational jet ski users seem to be an unfortunate bunch of dullards who haven't outgrown the pubescent urges of noisy self importance, the puerile thrill of going 'wheeeeeeee', and hoping onlookers might be really, really impressed by the whole Waterworld jumping-over-a-wave-thing.

“The fact that they're witless enough to spend $20,000 on such a daft toy – the thrill of which diminishes by half with every Sunday morning outing on the broadwater – is a testament to their sheer dumb-as-fuck status.”

Professor Harland is quick to qualify his findings. “It's best to be clear here, jet skis that are used to tow boardriders into seriously un-paddleable waves in remote locations do not fall into this recreational jet ski user category.

“In these cases, the jet ski user is more often than not an accomplished ocean-goer himself, someone who has spent enough time immersed in the surf under their own manual power, to develop an understanding of the ocean as an ecological and spiritual sanctuary, one that deserves better than squadrons of dimwits roaring across her once-pristine expanses.

“So it's fair to say that any accomplished tow-in surfer has nothing but love and respect for the ocean, and treads as lightly as possible whenever he or she can.”

But as for those enthusiasts who regularly employ jet skis to tow in surf situations where paddling is still a functional option, the survey data is particularly damning.

“These quasi-watermen tow in types unerringly fall into the category of chumps, cretins and asswipes” – the report's author states. “A moneyed-up recreational jet ski bogan endlessly spinning his wheels in the broadwater is bad enough, but the pretendy yellowbelly 'oooh-it's-overhead-let's-form-a-tow-team-I'll-be-Maverick-and-you-can-be-Goose' bozo is a far lower creature – a nuisance, a danger and a pest.”

Other findings showed that – apart from the eight percent of recreational jet ski enthusiasts who were not utterly repellent – recreational jet ski users were overwhelmingly: poor listeners; suffering short attention spans; unable to reflect and learn from experience, and generally 'emotionally retarded'.

“It would seem these people cannot be silently with themselves for more than a minute.” concludes Harland. “These braying donkeys seem incapable of actually sitting out in the ocean for a quiet moment, with no fumes or roaring motor. Perhaps if they did, they'd realise what an infernal contraption they were astride, and what a pitiful creature they were for engaging in its most tawdry and inane of thrills.

“Given the grave nature of what such introspection would reveal, it's understandable they would wish to keep the motor running – and delay the realisation that they are a complete twat – for as long as possible.”

Disabled Woman 'Powerless To Help' Frustrated Surfers.

2009-06-28T23:33:00.000-07:00

Monday 29th June, Burleigh Heads QLD. – 24-year-old Quadriplegic Stephanie Johnson claims she is still coming to terms with a recent excursion to Burleigh Heads park late last week.

Ms Johnson – Wheelchair-bound with Spina Bifida since the age of five and whose every living function requires special assistance – was shuttled with two other severely disabled companions from their austere institution to spend an hour and a half staring out to sea from Burleigh Headland.

“While it was a treat to get some fresh air, I couldn't help but be concerned and upset at the distress many of the surfers seemed to be in,” she told your reporter, who visited her at the care facility..

Ms Johnson, who has no movement in her limbs and who is not likely to live past 30, tried to be philosophical as she recounted the trauma faced by the brave surfers who battled the hardships of not getting every wave they wanted.

“There was alot of swearing and anger out there, it was worse than in any hospital ward I've ever been in.

“If there was some way I could have reached out and helped those poor fellows, but I couldn't – hey, I can't even wipe my own arse!” she chuckled good-naturedly.

Sensing this reporter's discomfort at her arse-wiping quip, Ms Johnson quickly qualified her comments, saying “look, I know that's an insensitive thing to say, given the seriousness of the issue at hand – from what I saw, these surfers desperately need more waves to maintain a dignified quality of life.

“It makes you wonder about all those millions of dollars raised for research into conditions such as Cystic Fibrosis, Multiple Sclerosis, Schizophrenia, Cancer, etcetera, when clearly so much suffering is felt so keenly out in the water by these poor souls.

“I think the authorities should at least try to do something – I don't know, perhaps divert some funds away from medical research and towards trialling an artificial reef program – or at least counselling for those hardest hit by the condition of not getting every wave they want.

“The key here is not to give up hope – to hang on to the thought that maybe in this lifetime, by some miracle, this condition can be met head on.

“The funny thing is, I'd happily swap places with a surfer – just for an hour – to give them some blessed relief.

“This may sound bizarre, but I think I might actually enjoy the experience myself, I don't believe I'd even feel the need to catch a wave.

“I suspect I'd be quite content to paddle around, with my arms and legs doing what my brain told them to do, feeling the sun and the saltwater on my skin – even doing that duckdive thing through the waves – might make a nice change from the wheelchair and the bed.”

Tired from the effort of talking, Ms Johnson indicated she was ready to return to her favourite spot – a large window looking inland to the Gold Coast's domestic sprawl – where she would spend the afternoon alone with her thoughts until a rostered carer came to feed, change and put her to bed.

As she was wheeled away, Ms Johnson implored your reporter to “Tell all the surfers out there. Stay strong! It might be hard to imagine, but there's always someone who's had less waves than you!”

Famous Director to Make Stand Up Paddle Surf Zombie Movie.

2009-06-21T00:49:00.000-07:00

SUNDAY JUNE 21: World famous zombie-film-maker George A. Romero has come out of retirement citing the emergence of Stand Up Paddling as “A Zombie Movie opportunity too good to refuse.”

Romero – best known for Dawn of the Dead (1978), Day of the Dead (1985) and Night of the Living Dead (1990) – says the SUP phenomenon will “give a fresh dimension to the whole Zombie genre.”

“The script is fleshing out nicely – it's based on the premise that some surfers became obsessed with unlocking the secrets of a mythical 'core strength' formula that would somehow give them 'watermanly' powers,” says the 69-year-old Director.

“As with all good Zombie films, it starts out innocently enough, with healthy surfers adding the SUP to their quiver of surf alternatives, but things soon get toxic – what with that oddly symmetrical 'maybe-I'm-gonna-punch-out-a-shit-maybe-I'm-not' SUP stance, delusions of some hitherto undiscovered bloodline tracing back to The Duke, and the more 'gone' Zombies brazenly edging closer and closer into already crowded surf zones... clearly you've got the makings of a modern-day gore-fest on your hands.”

Romero's production company has been scouting locations and nominates Currumbin Alley on Queensland's Gold Coast as a site of interest for the as yet-un-named movie, with up to a hundred local SUP enthusiasts registering for work as background extras.

“In cinematic terms, the SUP surfer ticks the three boxes of your classic Zombie character” says Romero's Director of Photography, Alex Perkins. “One, they've got to move stiffly, slowly and relentlessly. Two, the consequences of being caught by one and joining their ranks must strike irrational fear into you. Three, there's got to be an element of hilarity in there.

“Watching a pack of freshly Zombified SUPs trying to bear down on a victim – with their ten-metre turning circles, constantly falling off and getting up again, and their veering off to one side and constantly over-correcting – its gonna be Zombie-horror-comedy gold.”

“They exhibit every hallmark of Zombie social behaviour – gestating in canals and waterways like so many rats before taking to the open ocean.”

Director Romero agrees – “To be honest, I thought the zombie genre was dead and buried, but the moment I laid eyes on SUPs in action, I knew this was a zombie story that needed to be told.”

“Mind you, I had a go on one recently and it's a lot of fun on the flat days” said Romero, as he edged closer to your reporter.

Slater, Parko and Reynolds Threaten Legal Action Against Teen Surfer.

2009-06-14T01:31:00.000-07:00

SUNDAY, JUNE 14 – Three of the world's most popular surfers today put aside their rivalries and issued a joint statement demanding 14-year-old Mandurah surfer Danny Kincaid removes them from the list of 'surf heroes and influences' on his myspace page.

“Normally I'd be cool with props from a kid like Danny,” says nine-time World Champion Kelly Slater.

“Being hero and role model for the kids comes with the territory, but you've got to draw the line.

“I was tooling around online, googling my name – oh, admit it, we all do from time to time – and clicked through to Danny's myspace site.

“I was horrified to see a clip he'd made interspersing footage of himself surfing Mandurah Main Beach, with clips of myself, Joel and Dane.

“Not only that, his online bio cites the three of us as the guys he models his surfing on.

”The kid's surfing's not even remotely connected to our virtuosity. It's a scene I don't wanna be part of.”

Slater contacted Coolangatta's Joel Parkinson immediately and alerted him to the youngster's unacceptable alliance.

“My first reaction after checkin' the Danny's site out was 'hang on let's not get carried away here' ” says the typically unflappable Joel Parkinson.

“Sure the kid had awful style and technique, and I could barely see where the influence of any of us could be spotted, but I was heading out west that week anyway, doin' a surf shop / surf-with-the-groms promo in Mandurah, so thought I'd check the kid out first hand before taking any action.

“All I can say is that he actually surfs less like us in real life than online, which I didn't think was possible.

“Nothin' against Danny, he seems like a real nice kid, and I'm happy to be a hero for the guy, but having seen him surf first hand, I categorically deny influencing him in any way, shape or form.”

Parkinson emailed Slater and immediately they arranged a phone conference with Californian sensation Dane Reynolds.

“I wasn't down with the guys,” says Reynolds “Even after seeing the footage and hearing Parko's first-hand description, I thought well, who are we to judge? I mean maybe we've just influenced the kid in a different kind of way, you know – amping him up on the beauty of surfing and that.”

“But the guys made me watch the Kincaid clip again and again, and I see their point – there's absolutely nothing in this kid's surfing that can be stylistically or technically linked back to any one of us.

“So we're asking young Danny – nicely for now – please come clean and acknowledge that our surfing has nothing to do with yours.

“On behalf of Kelly, Joel and myself, remove us as your cited surfers of influence immediately. We don't want to have to call in the lawyers, but if we have to we will.”

This is not the first time young Kincaid has made headlines, (see http://asl-insidethegoldmine.blogspot.com/2009/04/jury-of-peers-unconvinced-teen-surfer.html), and quite possibly not the last.

World's Women Surfers Not As Good As Me, Says Local Man

2009-06-08T16:39:00.000-07:00

BY GUEST GOLDMINER, NICK CARROLL

LAZY BAY, MID-NORTH COAST NSW: A local surfer has struck back at a recent American surfing magazine cover line, saying he believes he is superior to every female surfer on the planet.

John McGarrity, 38, spent most of late yesterday at a nearby pub deriding the cover of Surfer magazine, the supposed "Bible of the sport", whose latest edition carried the slogan: "Carissa Moore Surfs Better Than You".

"The day some chick surfs better than me is the day I'm giving up surfin'," pronounced Mr McGarrity. "Chicks can't surf! It's a (expletive deleted) joke."

According to Mr McGarrity, photos of women successfully riding waves are merely a product of surf companies eager to promote their female fashion ranges, and are almost entirely faked. What was more, the whole idea was unnatural.

"I grew up surfin' with blokes and that's the way nature intended it to be," he continued. "It's the only place you can get away from the womenfolk."

Indeed, Mr McGarrity said, he had only recently read an article in a well-known scientific publication stating that when women came into contact with surfboards in a saltwater environment, they became upset and ill and had to be escorted off the beach. "Thus, it's (expletive deleted) irresponsible encouraging 'em to try taking part in this essentially masculine pastime," he stated. "They're never gunna enjoy 'emselves anyway. That's all I'm sayin'. Along with the fact that I'm superior to every woman on earth in every area of achievement."

When shown a video sequence of current world champion Stephanie Gilmore in action, Mr McGarrity scoffed. "That's a bloke with a wig on and a particularly slender waist."

Colleagues of Mr McGarrity nodded their heads in seeming agreement, though several later expressed doubts about his abilities. "Johnny's not that good himself, let's face it," said one. "If it was Lukie (Lazy Bay club champion Luke Harrington) up against the cream of the ASP's current top 17 female seeded surfers, well yeah, I reckon he'd clean 'em all up every time.

"But Johnny? Mate he has his days but he has his off days too, if ya know what I mean."

Another colleague chortlingly held up a newspaper with a large photo of Layne Beachley on her recently famous Sydney reef wave, and asked: "Caught any of these lately Johnny?"

Mr McGarrity became increasingly agitated at these comments, eventually storming out of the bar after a local barmaid offered to arm-wrestle him for a bet.

Waterman Spontaneously Combusts on Beach.

2009-06-02T17:13:00.000-07:00

WED 3RD JUNE 2009, East Coast Aus – The tight-knit Toonalook Point surf community is coming to terms with the explosive demise of well-regarded local waterman Adrian Stevenson last weekend.

According to initial police reports, Stevenson, 36 – and in tip top condition – checked the surf from the Toona backbeach lookout before sunrise, and appeared excited and upbeat to fellow early risers.

“Stevo was amping on the new swell like he always does,” recounts fellow Toona local John Wade, also checking the surf that morning, “in the space of five minutes he must have mentioned a dozen different types of craft that could potentially suit the conditions the best.”

Mr Stevenson then returned home to consult the internet, allegedly to confirm that no swells-of-lifetimes were unloading anywhere within a 1000 km radius, and to work through an abbreviated version of the lairdpower™ pilates routine.

“Stevo found the pilates essential for his watermanly lifestyle,” good friend and training partner Linus Canning told reporters “helpful for the physicality of whatever the ocean had to throw at him, sure, but absolutely necessary for lugging and loading various surfcraft around the place. You should try getting a 30 foot Red Cedar SUP Ocean Racer on the roof of the landcruiser on your own sometime.”

Indeed, between 8.30 and 10.00am, neighbours report hearing an increasingly agitated Mr Stevenson loading his 4WD, trailer, and jetski trailer with an astonishing collection of surfcraft.

“At first I thought he was having a garage sale, or going camping or something” says longtime Toonalook resident and stickybeak Maud Adams, “and I said as much across the fence ... he just muttered something about living in the moment and I wouldn't understand what drives him.

“He said no-one really knows him but the ocean, he mentioned something about intrinsic connections, and Atlantis I think, but I'd already gone back inside by then and the tele was on so I can't say for sure.”

Mr Stevenson and his convoy of trailers returned to the Toona backbeach carpark by 10.30am, and witnesses say he spent the next hour unloading his flotilla of craft on to the beach.

“I asked him if he wanted a hand with the jetski trailer” recalls local grommet Shannan West “'cos the bullock harness he was wearing to haul it through the dunes looked pretty uncomfortable and he seemed a bit flustered... he said he was alright and that it was good resistance training.”

Though there are no suspicions of foul play, police are investigating the events that followed.

“We've accessed the Coastalwatch Surf Cam archives to study the sequence of events that led to Mr Stevenson blowing up” Senior Detective Constable Mal Padgett told reporters, “and though the surf cam footage is low resolution, we can ascertain that he brought his craft out on to the beach in the following order:

“Ocean-going SUP; traditional malibu; 16 foot paddleboard; one-man outrigger; flippers; jetski; 18 foot paddleboard; twin-fin fish; quad fin bat-tail; 18-foot clubbie ski; vintage lifesaving belt and reel; vintage hollow 'toothpick' craft; reconditioned Michael Peterson single fin dagger tail; authentic Paipo lie-down surf craft; high-performance 12 foot SUP; Peruvian fishing craft (traditional reed construction); heavily concaved finless surfboard; Campbell Brothers Bonzer; autographed George Greenough surf mat; various craft made from balsa, carbon fibre, aluminium and recycled plastic bottles; boulder for underwater running; authentic Morning of the Earth-era single fin hot dogger; McCoy Keel-Fin Lazor Zap; high-performance windsurfer; kite-board; hand-board and axe.

“We were puzzled by the axe until Mr Stevenson marched up the beach to the foreshore and carved himself out a nice Alaia out of a banksia tree.

“Mr Stevenson then donned a rubberised mer-man tail, and embroidered himself a loincloth out of the sanddune grass.”

Beachgoers allege that through the afternoon, Mr Stevenson remained on the beach, balancing on his merman tail, wondering aloud which surfcraft to finally decide on before taking to the water.

At dusk, John Wade, who'd met Stevenson at their early morning surf check, came out of the water and the pair exchanged the pleasantries that would prove to be fatal.

“He asked me how it was and what he should ride” recalls a still clearly shaken Wade. “ I just said it was unreal. I'd had three surfs through the day and thought it was perfect for a standard shortboard"

“He looked right through me and said softly 'oh, I don't think I have one of those...'

“And that's when it happened, his head just exploded clean off his body and shot into the sky. A few quivering flips of his merman tail and it was all over. Gone.

“Unbelievable. It'll take a day to get all his junk off the beach.”

Newcomer Laughs Too Loudly at Local’s Joke.

2009-05-23T20:34:00.000-07:00

SUNDAY 24th MAY – Semi-regular visitor Steve Gardiner's campaign to quietly ingratiate himself into the mid-level social structure of the iconic Toonalook Point break suffered a setback last Sunday morning when he laughed too readily and eagerly at longtime local Alec Turner's quip about getting caught inside.

“I've seen that Steve bloke surfing round here a bit lately, seemed like an alright enough fella,” said Mr Turner, “so as we were paddling out after a bit of a set, I just said 'If I had a dollar for every time I've been caught inside here, I'd be a rich man'.

“It was meant to be the kind of observation you'd chuckle and roll your eyes at, but you'd have thought I'd just told the funniest joke in the world, the way he cracked up, laughing loudly and demonstratively slapping the water in agreement.”

“What a dick.”

Steve Gardiner spent the rest of the day at home on the couch hugging an oversized pillow, eating tim tams and remorsefully complaining to his wife. “Oh man, one chance and I've blown it. I just lost it. I knew I was overdoing it but I just couldn't stop.”

Experts agree that few indiscretions set a newcomer's campaign for acceptance back further than over-eagerness to laugh at a local's joke.

“It's a tragic mistake to make” says North Coast psychologist Dr Warren “Waz” Randall, “because it inevitably occurs right at the tipping point of acceptance – the newcomer is as good as gold, he's put in the hours, surfed the spot in all conditions, deferred to the local's right to the pick of the sets, and right at the very moment, after years of effort, when the local extends the offer of inclusion, the newcomer blows it by laughing inappropriately loudly at an only mildly humorous comment.

“Immediately, whatever esteem the newcomer has earned will evaporate into thin air.

“The newcomer has revealed his or her self to be a weak-willed, over-eager sycophantic arse kisser of the worst degree.

“In other words, exactly the type of surfer you don't want contaminating your boardrider's clubroom or representing your core local values when it's eight feet and draining off the ledge.”

When learning the particulars of the incident, Dr Randall sighed “Sheesh, Toona Point, that's a tough crowd. I'd say it's another 18 months before Mr Gardiner can expect to get any decent sets.

“I'd say best thing Mr Gardiner can do out there is keep himself to himself.

“No-one likes a kiss-arse.”

Man Fails To Convince Girlfriend of Value Of Surfing

2009-05-14T13:57:00.000-07:00

posted by guest goldminer NICK CARROLL

MONA VALE, SYDNEY – A local man was not permitted to surf last Sunday afternoon, despite excellent conditions, after he was unable to convince his long term girlfriend of the sport's overall value.

Instead Joe Hatfield, 32, spent most of the day in a large shopping mall with Sherry, 29, planning the purchase of several major pieces of furniture and other household goods, which she forcefully claimed were part of "planning our future together".

During a brief coffee break at around 2.30pm, a distressed Mr Hatfield explained that he had spent much of the morning in conversation with Sherry, "trying to reason with her about how vital surfing is - not just to my own emotional well-being, but to the nation as a whole".

"Studies have shown that in years of economic recession, surfing has been the rock upon which thousands of unemployed Australians have been able to lean," expounded Mr Hatfield.

"Not only that, Tourism Australia surveys show that surfing and other beach and surf based recreational activities are worth over $1.4 billion to the national tourism economy.

"I just reckon I should do my bit. If I, and people like me, don't surf on a regular basis, the whole thing could crumble overnight."

But his arguments were dismissed by Sherry, who said Mr Hatfield "just wanted to rack off and have a day off with his mates, leaving me to do the work in this relationship, as always".

She went on to say, staring hard at Mr Hatfield: "It's about time he grew up and realised that I'm not just here for his nookie when he wants it. We've just moved into a new place and we need to take care of things like furniture, bed linen, cutlery sets, curtains, light fittings, you name it.”

“We can't do it all in a weekend either - this will take months."

Sherry further stated that "even if his broad vision of the nation's surfing-based economic and cultural health had an ounce of credence - and I'm not saying it does - it'll just have to wait till we've picked out a nice colour matched bath sheet set."

Mr Hatfield uttered a muffled moan when his mobile telephone began to beep, apparently signalling the arrival of photos of the surf conditions relayed to him by colleagues. "It's six foot and perfect! Shez, can't we come back during the week?"

Instead Mr Hatfield remained at the mall until after closing time, signing several long-term hire purchase agreements.

Friends were torn over the arguments presented by the couple. Several of Mr Hatfield's colleagues offering him some relatively timid backup, muttering "whipped" and "he has to surf - it's essential for returning the budget to surplus at some point - can't she see that?" under their breaths.

But their own partners, who frequently attend coffee mornings with Sherry, were strident in their denigration. "Typical male behaviour, thinking up reasons why they should be allowed to do what they want… I don't know how she's put up with it so long."

Mr Hatfield, meanwhile, remains determined to surf at some point in the near future, despite the couple's ongoing need to find a small table that will go just perfectly under the interior kitchen serve-way. "It's my patriotic duty," he declared bravely.

Local Man Stranded On Jump Rock

2009-05-10T14:29:00.000-07:00

CENTRAL COAST POINTBREAK – Sunday morning. Semi- local surfer Craig Black's jump rock miscalculation has resulted in a four-hour stranding waiting for the tide to go out then come back in.

Black, 50, made his way to the headland of the popular pointbreak at approximately 6.20am without incident, but became disoriented as he picked his way out to the cluster of jump rocks.

“A surge came through as I was walking out ” recalls Black “I was certain my mid-high-tide rock would be the best one to go off, but when I actually got there it was like someone pulled the plug – the tide was way lower than I thought and rocks were popping up everywhere.

“There was no way I was gonna jump and risk the FCS setup on my 6' 8" quad funboard.”

Mr Black believes a number of factors contributed to his decision to remain on his ill-chosen rock.

“Naturally, I considered retracing my steps back to the headland before going out to the low-tide jump spot, but every time I was about to turn tail, a surge'd come through and I'd think 'gonna jump this time', but each surge would be a little shallower with the dropping tide.”

Compounding the problem was the number of local surfers – some of whom acquaintances of Mr Black – heading out for their morning surf.

“This might sound a little foolish, but I didn't want to let the guys see me turning around and walking back to shore with my tail between my legs – it'd be like waving a big red flag in the air saying 'Look at me, I'm a kook! I don't even know what rock to jump off' – so I stayed put, and did my best to look like I was happy to be there.”

“Looking back, maybe I should have sucked it up and bailed, but the longer I stayed the harder it was to leave.”

Mr Black suggests that his jump rock stranding became a spiritual odyssey of sorts.

“After a couple of hours it wasn't about getting off that rock and into the lineup any more, it was more about seeing if I could go the distance. If I could exist quietly with myself. What started out as an innocent surf became a test of character. An inner journey, if you will.”

Coastalwatch surf cam archives provide a more blunt document of Mr Black's ordeal.

Between 6.35am and 7.15am, Mr Black remains in his quasi ready-to-jump-on-the-next-big-surge position, while performing stretches of the neck and torso whenever other surfers walked past on the headland.

From 7.15am through to the .26 metre low tide at 8.22am, Mr Black appears to spend most times on his haunches, often with his head in his hands, and at times rocking back and forth.

Though pixelated surf cam footage only allows impressions rather than details, Mr Black appears to weep on several occasions – an allegation he denies vigorously.

Mr Black is prepared, however, to concede that the suggestion – that he kicked and flailed at a Black Cormorant who attempted to share the rock platform on several occasions – has merit.

“You have to understand, you spend a couple of hours on a rock the size of an esky and you start to get a bit territorial. There were heaps of other rocks around for that Cormorant to dry his wings on, so, y'know, stuff 'im.”

The last hour and a half proved to be the most testing for the father of three.

“You don't know what 'slow' means until you're waiting for the tide to fill back up. Honestly.”

By 10.15am, the tide had risen back to the same level as when Mr Black first set foot on his rock.

Mr Black celebrated by urinating in his wetsuit. A treat he had been saving up to mark the occasion.

“It's hard to explain how good it felt. Not just the hot wee on my leg, but the fact that I was in the box seat now. Sure, it was still too shallow, but with every surge I was closer to jumping. I haven't felt that excited about going for a surf in a long time.

“Which is just as well, cos the onshore had come up by 9.00 and it was complete shit.”

Coastalwatch surf cam archives show Mr Black finally exiting the jump rock at 10.22, after being perched for almost four-and-a-half hours.

Mr Black – who had originally planned to surf for only an hour before nine holes for golf then hosting a barbecue lunch with family and friends – waited a further 15 minutes in the lineup before catching a wave, and was dropped in on immediately.

“Pleasing drop” in Attendance Figures at Local Surf Museum.

2009-05-04T03:16:00.000-07:00

TOONALOOK POINT, East Coast Aus – As The Toona Surf Museum celebrates its first year of operations, recently-released figures show visitors are staying away in droves, and the proprietors are delighted.

“A lot of blood, sweat and tears has gone into this museum” says resident curator Brent “Snowy” Snow.

“It took years of lobbying for a grant from the government to kick off the TSM – and you wouldn't believe the bureaucratic hoops we had to jump through to get zoning permission” he chuckled.

“Then there was the process of sourcing the material – classic boards, memorabilia, archival footage for the multimedia displays – all the stuff that's made Toonalook Point one of the jewels in the crown of Australia's surfing heritage.”

“All the local crew – from solicitors to plumbers and plasterers – have donated their time free of charge to make this museum what it is.

“The Toona boardriders have even held a few fundraising cake stalls down the point. Seeing big Jezza in an apron selling Lamingtons, now that's commitment!

“This Museum shows what a close-knit community can achieve when it puts its mind to a shared purpose.”

At this point, Mr Snow took a step forward and jabbed his forefinger into your reporter's chest.

“Given how proud we are of our little museum, why the FUCK would we want to share it with any blow ins?”

Despite this hostility, Mr Snow was prepared to share the details of the report, and after some push-and-shove, conceded there was still work to do to reduce visitor numbers even further.

“What we've found is, Christmas and Easter holidays are easily the worst times for visitors. Swarms of people from up and down the coast, wanting to come in and gawp at the exhibits like they own the place.

“School holidays aren't much better, though if the kids come in on their own we find it easier to intimidate 'em into leaving pretty much straight after they've paid their admission fee.

“Next year we plan on rotating Waz, Daz, Gaz and Baz in shifts through peak visitor periods.

“By having, say, Waz and Gaz set up in the foyer, talking unnecessarily loudly about how fucked all the blow ins are, we believe we can turn more than half potential visitors away immediately.

“And to deter the more persistent museum-goer, we're installing a new audio component to our five most popular exhibits – sensors detect an onlooker and plays a pre-recorded message along the lines of 'What the fuck do you think you're looking at mate.' etcetera

“With these new strategies in place, we reckon we'll only have to resort to more forceful measures – keying cars, slashing tyres, punching on like girls – once or twice a week, in even the busiest periods.

“I'm confident that by this time next year, if we stick to our plan, the Toona Surf Museum will be completely visitor-free and only patronised by the guys responsible for the exhibits in the first place.

“Now fuck off.”

Surf Forum Thread Veers Off Topic.

2009-04-29T03:11:00.000-07:00

CYBERSPACE, Thursday – Internet experts are expressing alarm at the discovery of a surf website forum thread straying off its topic of origin.

“We've designed the internet - specifically the 'forums' or 'message boards' - as a way for like-minded individuals to exchange their thoughts, hopes and dreams, and engage in healthy, respectful debate” says Dr John Cohen, who invented the internet.

“This technology bridges distance and divisions of class, race and circumstance.”

“As these ripples of expression and perspective expand, and as more people join in and have their voice heard, we can't help but feel more empathy for our fellow man. We can all get on the same page, so to speak.”

Dr Cohen continued: “This is why today's discovery of a forum thread – that not only veered off topic but also became disrespectful and abusive – is cause for concern.”

“It would appear some forum enthusiasts used the disconnectedness of the internet to express opinions they might otherwise keep to themselves if, say, the object of their scorn was in the same room as them.

“Some even appear to not have fully thought their arguments through before pressing the 'submit' button – and a number of forum users seem to enjoy attacking and provoking others.

“One might suspect some deeper issues – completely unrelated to the topic at hand – fuel this need to antagonise strangers over subjects that are – in reality – extremely petty.

“Further, some participants have even posted their work under pseudonyms, which in turn has prompted other forum users to speculate if “so-and-so” isn't actually “such-and-such.”

“Halfway through the thread, the original forum topic has been forgotten.

“This is so not what I invented the internet for. And if this behavior continues I'm going to have to shut this whole web thing down.

“The surf cams, the swell maps, even the porn. Gone. Think about that next time you wanna share your half-arsed opinion with the fricken world.”

ASL Team "Just Not Feeling The Work Thing" Since Conclusion Of Bells Webcast.

2009-04-22T03:12:00.001-07:00

BURLEIGH, Qld – ASL workers have been finding it increasingly hard to focus on their work since the Rip Curl Pro webcast concluded last Thursday 16th April.

“I was stoked for Joel, seeing him ring the bell and all,” an ASL staffer confided, “but I was dying a little inside, knowing that in a matter of minutes the webcast'd be over and the only thing on my computer screen would be the work that I myself was generating.

“Having a webcast playing away on a discreetly tucked-away window on my screen gives me real motivation to stay at my workstation. Even first round showdowns featuring Timmy Reyes and Miky Picon make it easy to stay at my desk for hours at a stretch.”

Even ASL Publisher Peter Morrison agrees, saying “At first I was dubious about the webcasts, but they seem to give real structure to the team's working day.

“I never see the boys as focused as when a comp's on. I see them concentrating so intently to their screens and I deadset get a bit teary.”

The blessings of the Rip Curl Pro webcast were not without consequences however. In the half hour the contest was relocated to high tide Winkipop on successive days, phone systems overloaded as the team addressed their growing banks of voicemail messages and dashed off a few priority emails.

Critically, the ASL lavatory system struggled to process the backlog of waste as most staff maximised the Winkipop relocation downtime to punch out a painfully-withheld shit.

All well worth the strain on the infrastructure and plumbing, according to one: “Getting paid to watch a surf comp? Sometimes I love my job.”

Alas, with weeks until the Billabong Pro Tahiti comes online, a dark and oppressive funk has settled over the ASL office, with aimless hallway wandering and listless trawling of social network sites again becoming the chosen methods of seeing the day out.

“We'll get by,” said one plucky ASL crewmember “It's just hard to, like, concentrate on writing and stuff without wondering if surfer in red can get out of combo-land with seven and a half minutes on the clock.”

Surf Schools “don't prepare students for real life”, says expert.

2009-04-19T15:25:00.000-07:00

Coogee, NSW – Despite their fleets of softboards, brightly coloured lycra rash shirts, and accreditation with regulatory body Surfing Australia, Surf Schools still fall well short of their dry land counterparts, warned leading education expert Kath Murray.

“It's all very well to learn to spring to one’s feet in a smooth motion – arms outstretched, knees bent and weight centred – but these schools are failing to deliver sound learning outcomes on basics such as literacy, numeracy and reason,” Ms Murray argued yesterday.

“Call me old fashioned, but sitting on the beach while an ex pro surfer points out where the rips are hardly compares with six years of standard secondary-school curriculum.

“Being pushed into a one-foot reform by a surly local just doesn’t prepare one for the rigors of tertiary education.

“And if you ever finally land a job interview, will the claim of having ‘stood up for a couple of seconds’ count for anything?

Ms Murray suggested that parents continue to enrol their children in conventional schools for now, until Surf Schools broaden their curriculum, advising “There's got to be more to education than simulated paddling in the sand while chafing in the crotch from a too-tight wetsuit still warm from the previous pupil's urine.”

“Not All Shark Attacks Accidental” Warns Bronze Whaler.

2009-04-16T03:16:00.000-07:00

BROADBEACH Qld – Conservation groups such as Sea Shepherd and Save Our Sharks are giving the shark species a bad name, a Bronze Whaler claimed yesterday.

“We've been getting some sympathetic media coverage lately,” the 1.6 metre juvenile told reporters at an impromptu press conference out off the Kurrawa shark nets yesterday, “so it’s time to set the record straight.”

“Until recently, we’ve been seen as evil, bloodthirsty and remorseless killers, which is a lot cooler than the leftist thinking that portrays us as endangered miracles of evolution vital to the health of the seas and the planet or whatever.

“It's even been suggested that sharks have got more to be scared of than humans do.

“What kind of powderpuff homos do you take us for?”

At this outburst, the adolescent shark, known only as ‘Bronzey’ gestured menacingly to the media scrum, and rolled his eyes back in his head.

It wasn’t clear whether this was a gesture of exasperation or if he was intending to bite someone.

“You guys want the truth? All that stuff about mistaken identity, exploratory bites, only attacking when provoked – bullshit!

“Give me a couple of years to get to full size and I'm gonna take as many of you bastards down as I can!

“Know why? Cos I'm a fucken KILLING MACHINE, that's why!”

Appearing to shadow box with his pectoral fins, Bronzey went on to proclaim “I'll take youse all on at once.”

At this point, Bronzey's agent – a four metre Great White – appeared from the depths and reprimanded her young charge in front of the press gallery.

“I apologise for Bronzey’s outburst” the White Pointer said wearily, her tone suggesting this wasn't the first time he’d drawn unwanted attention to himself.

“My client's bark is worse than his bite ... for now anyway.

“See it from his perspective – when you've been around for four hundred million years, then 90 percent of your population is butchered in less than half a century, well, it’s enough to get a young fella a bit worked up.”

After a formal, yet reluctant, apology from Bronzey, the pair took only a few questions before excusing themselves and vanishing to the deep.

Possibly unaware of the sensitive underwater microphone's range, the Great White was overheard reassuring her young Whaler “You never know, they might just all wipe ’emselves out before they get through all of us ... chin up, young fella.”

Local Builder Agitated By Webcast Commentary.

2009-04-14T15:22:00.000-07:00

JAC JUC, Vic – 34-year-old-tradesman Paul Kline has registered a loud and impassioned complaint to his wife about dumb analogies used repeatedly by under-qualified webcast commentators.

“What's this shit about ‘building house’?” Kline was heard to shout from the spare bedroom – currently doubling as the home office – as a competitor scored a ride in the low seven-point range.

“They’ve said it every time this guy catches a wave!"

“All I see is a guy doing reos. How can this be compared to building a fricken house?” Kline continued as his wife Barbara came in from the living room to see what the fuss was all about.

“I guess it’s one of those clichés, sweetheart,” replied Barbara Kline, 29, who stayed calm through the ordeal.

“You know how these commentators are, they stumble across some nice piece of phrasing that makes ’em sound worldly, but with any self-awareness long gone they return to these mind-numbing clichés time and time again. Instant ego validation and all that.

“But you can't be too hard on them, darl” Barbara went on to say “It's just the way language is heading these days anyway. Wanky corporatespeak is killing the language of simple truth.

“You’ve just got to sit through half an hour of The Biggest Loser to see that. Even the fatties are waffling on about ‘the journey’ they're on – as if jogging and laying off the Tim Tams is some profound spiritual odyssey... So you need to cut these webcast guys a little slack.”

“Mind you” Ms Kline continued “If one more commentator says ‘Surfer X went to towwwn on that wave’ I'll march down to Bells and personally rip the cunt’s windpipe out.”

Specialist Cameraman Rushed South for Sunny Day at Bells.

2009-04-13T19:11:00.000-07:00

TUESDAY 14/04 TORQUAY VIC – Unseasonally mild conditions at Bells Beach have seen a sharp rise in exposed female skin and thrown Rip Curl Pro Webcast Camera Crews into a panic.

As the mercury climbed above 25 degrees halfway through the second heat of the day, Melbourne Uni student Sandra Baker exclaimed it was 'too hot' for the pullover she was wearing, and shocked onlookers by watching the next two heats dressed in nothing more than a bikini top, cargo shorts and oversized sunglasses.

Witnesses report up to a dozen other females at the scene discarding unwanted articles of clothing.

The webcast crew's communications jammed as cameramen struggled with this decidedly un-Victorian visual element.

“We thought we were prepared for anything” one contest organiser said, “But it's three hours in to the webcast and we still haven't capitalised on a single cleavage opportunity.

“Best we could manage was an incidental shot of an average chick in denim shorts as we filmed Kelly walking down the stairs. It's a disaster.

“The guys are trying their hardest but Vicco blokes just can't pull a good pervy shot to save their lives. It's unknown territory for them.”

At a hastily-organised crisis meeting, organisers rolled the dice and put a call through to legendary Gold Coast Webcast filmer Dave Quinlan – known best for his roving beach work at the Quiksilver Pro at Snapper Rocks.

“There's a Jetstar flight direct from Cooly leaving in 20 minutes and Dave will be on it. We've chartered a chopper from Tullamarine to Bells, so after lunch we should start to see some quality chick pics filling the void created by the lulls and the mundane commentary,” said a clearly relieved webcast director.

“Dave's got what it takes – he can linger on a set of boobs without making it feel creepy, and his arse visuals have a quiet sense of dignity, so we can't wait to see his work with the crowd down here.”

-----------------------

Stop Press: In a move reminiscent of 1979's famous Surfabout Airlift (where competitors were flown from Sydney to Bells for the day) Dave Quinlan has reportedly swung by Greenmount Beach on his way to the airport and grabbed half a dozen brazillian females off the beach to take to Bells “as insurance".

Jury of Peers Unconvinced Teen Surfer Was Actually In Barrel.

2009-04-13T03:14:00.000-07:00

MANDURAH, WA – Two days after 13-year-old weekend surfer Danny Kincaid claimed to have been 'fully shacked' at his local break, the facts of the matter seem no closer to hand.

The furore started at 10.35am local time, when Danny and friends were surfing a reform peak out front of the surf club, where many are junior members.

Kincaid paddled back out to his friends after taking a small inside wave, and excitedly described the tube ride no-one had witnessed.

14-Year-Old Rob Teale – respected among Kincaid's circle of friends as the guy who does the best reos and hacks and stuff – immediately disputed Kincaid's claim.

“Bullshit Caidy!” Teale is quoted as saying.

Onlookers report a heated exchange between Kincaid and Teale, with Kincaid protesting the authenticity of his barrel by describing how "The lip came right over my head. I wasn't like, super deep or anything, but for sure the back bit of my board was fully slotted and that.”

The agitation flared back up that afternoon as Kincaid recounted his barrel to some non-surfing friends at a nearby McDonalds restaurant. Once again, Teale provided an opinion to the contrary – this time stirring up support from others who'd been out there that morning.

Critically, Kincaid's best friend Tony Mcallum expressed doubts, asking Kincaid quietly “Mate, are sure you didn't kinda imagine it? Like, did you have your eyes open? Why didn't you jump off like you always do?”

Realising he had little support, Kincaid began to negotiate a compromise, reasoning “Look, it was definitely a cover up, there was stuff going on everywhere. I reckon if you were on the beach and a bit back I would have totally disappeared for a sec. Maybe not all of me at once, but, y'know, it would have been like 'where's Caidy? Oh, there he is'.”

By the end of the McDonald's session, Kincaid's ride had been downgraded to 'full-on head-dip'.

Friends say they will keep a close watch on Kincaid on return to school after the Easter break, lest he revert back to his original barrel claim.

“Betchya he tells Kath Dobson he got fully barrelled”, observed Teale “He's got the hots for her something shocking.”

ASL staff runs 'desperately low' in excuses during recent swell bombardment.

2009-04-12T20:54:00.000-07:00

BURLEIGH HEADS Qld – As their home break pumped at eight foot for days on end, one insider reveals ASL workers came under unprecedented pressure to deliver plausible reasons for not being out there getting the waves of their lives.

“We've got a lot on, what with ASL 250 coming up and all.” reckoned Editor Tim Fisher, echoing a common ASL staffer sentiment, adding “I woulda hit it this morning, only the tide was too low.”

“Looks like the northerly could spring up at any second” offered Associate Editor Chris Binns. “I'd hate to be 10 foot back in the barrel – which is where I'd probably be most the time – and have the northerly spring up and create the dreaded 'chandelier effect'.”

Photo editor Ben Ey claimed jetlag after a three hour ordeal flying back from the O'Neill Coldwater Classic in Tasmania four days previously.

ASL web editor Will had issues with his remote access server at home and couldn't access the surf cams. “How was I to know it was going off?”... fumed the indignant new-media specialist “Why didn't any of you c*nts call?... You know I love that shit!”

ASL designer Al Mitchell had the flu, assistant ASL editor Andy Morris didn't have the flu but complained of no ASL jet ski assist, South African expat publisher Simsy claimed diplomatic immunity while ASL honcho Pete Morrison labelled his decision to remain dry as a form of protest. “G20 summit, global warming, save Kirra, take your pick.”

Study finds Burleigh Point best place to have Nervous Breakdown.

2009-04-07T08:54:00.000-07:00

GOLD COAST QLD – According to a recent university study, Burleigh Point has pipped Currumbin Alley and The Pass in Byron Bay as the place most conducive to have a total psychological breakdown while surfing.

The study, conducted at over 200 iconic surf breaks both in Australia and overseas, observed the demeanour of over 3000 surfers, and concluded that the totemic hierarchy of Burleigh's pecking order, the confused nature of the bottom feeders, and the fact that the scene appears deceptively beguiling from land, all combine to make Burleigh Point – in particular the inside Rockbreak section on a high tide and an inconsistent south east swell – a 'mental-case time bomb waiting to explode', according to one researcher.

“Unless you were born in the Burleigh National Park, or you're a top 45 level pro, or just a supremely cunning human, you really are taking your mental health into risky territory spending more than an hour a day surfing this place,” says Professor Steven Harland from Griffith University. “Human factors aside, most of the damage is done by the waves themselves – a specimen of heartbreaking beauty will break close enough to fool you into believing that you might actually catch and ride one yourself.”

“It's too much to expect the human psyche to withstand this kind of pressure.”

Sixty seven percent of the surfers in the study showed signs of distress within 14 minutes of paddling out into the Burleigh lineup, with the severity of the symptoms increasing greatly between 7.00am and 8.00am, and more than doubling when respondents had to find a wave to go in on as domestic and work commitments became more and more pressing.

Perhaps not surprisingly, national military and intelligence agencies have expressed interest in the findings, and even the U.S are said to be pricking up their ears.

“Without telling tales out of school, I've taken the odd call from ASIO asking if it would be possible to train terror suspects in the fundamentals of surfing over an intense three week period, then send them out to The Point on a Sunday morning with the promise of a set wave for every bomb plot or Al-Qaeda hideout revealed.”

“In my opinion, not only does this contravene every article in the Geneva Convention, it would be a safe bet that a rogue element among the locals would make what went on at Abu Ghraib look like a sunday school picnic.”

“The irony of all this is that surfing is seen as a release, an escape from pressure,” Dr Harland goes on to say “whereas in terms of causing normally well-adjusted, competent surfers to lose their shit, Burleigh Point amounts to a perfect storm.”

The study found that in regional terms, The Gold Coast pointbreaks are seven times more likely to trigger complete mental collapse than any other surfing zone in Australia.

Other notable no-go areas include Newport Peak “Stress levels among respondents skyrocketed when one or both Carroll brothers were known to be in the area” notes Harland.

Anglesea Main Beach on Victoria's West Coast also polled highly as a mental minefield. “Despite the occasional reform left hander known as 'Junket Bowl' breaking into the rocks at the south end of the beach, the unceasing closeouts are water torture for anyone looking to go any way other than straight to the beach.” says an increasingly bitter-sounding Harland, who may have tampered with the data to reflect his own surfing experience.