Surfphoto

How To Ignore Long Range Surf Forecasts...

If you try and calculate the probability of anything weather related happening with any certainty, let's just say will there be good surf a week from today the maths involved is so complex that you soon suck all the numbers out of the world and get a really big headache.

The weather is a complex beast made of water, air, heat, maths and chaos. Predicting what it will do next is next to impossible. It's like trying to punch smoke. No matter how many RAMs your weather centre's supercomputer has, even if you have on of them fancy double screen set ups and an iPad on the desk, it means nothing. If your supercomputer can do more calculations per second than the entire population of China with an abacus on each hand then well done you. But you might as well flip a coin. The coin flip operator will be just as accurate. He has a fiddy percent strike rate after all … and looks cool.

You see forecasting the weather, even with all our modern weather buoys, satellite data, Hadron colliders and string theories is just, at best, an educated guess. Add in trying to get swell predictions anywhere near accurate and it's a guess times a hunch times a thousand. All that happens is you chuck in the recorded data, press the big button that says 'GO' on the computer and watch it burp out a forecast.

A word which needs repeating a: forecast, not fact, a possibility based on the available evidence and similar looking prior events which becomes increasingly implausible the further it proceeds down times unfaltering highway away from the known bit at the beginning. It's like those sci-fi fantasies where there are a million parallel universes all coexisting. From any set of data the weather machine could do whatever it pleases. The possibility of the computer generated result being anything like the actual weather in a weeks time is impossibly remote. In one of the million universes it will be cock on. In the rest you'll be staring at a flat ocean and wondering why you got so excited the week before.

It's hard enough for the weather bods to predict if it will rain the next day. Forecasting weeks ahead is a mugs game, especially in that most chaotic of systems the Atlantic, which doesn't play nice like its brethren the Indian and Pacific. But that doesn't stop the forecasts, now readily available on the Interwebs for up to 16 mind-boggling days ahead. Which people see. Then get all excited and start doing a jig about how the best surf ever is looming. Then they start making plans, booking ferries and flights. Then a week later everyone wonders what the fuss was about as the charts have changed wholesale and now it's going to be a few feet and onshore as opposed to 20-foot and best ever.

It's confusing for all. Where one day there's a red beast on the WAM charts that puts the red spot on Jupiter to shame by the next day it's wimped out and gone all green and ill looking. Long range forecasts are ephemeral things. Shimmering in our sight for the briefest moments until the models are run again and a fresh set of charts appear. The best ever onion ring that was there in the morning is replaced by an unsightly hag of a low with all kinds of unpleasantness by the afternoon and by the end of the next day it's a flipping high.

Looking at long range charts is like tossing a coin and basing your happiness on what's cast.  'Heads! Hurrah! Happiness reigns!' 'Tails? Arse barns. Best flagellate myself again.'

Long range forecasts are addictive because good surf makes us happy. Knowing that good surf is imminent makes us do smiling. Just the knowledge of an impending adrenalin and endorphin speedball shot acts like a drug. This is why we are drawn moth like to their digitised flame.

Older surfers will remember the four day weather fax of pressure maps: a badly printed piece of shiny paper that cost you £1.50 a pop. A thin sheet shared around like a religious artefact. But those four days of pressure gave you a perfect insight into how the surf was shaping up. We can learn lessons from the past. Try just looking at the charts for four days, like the kick-ass Met Office Atlantic maps online. We need to go cold turkey on anything longer. The probability is on your side, the models firmer, the likelihood of the desired good surf better if the charts are playing ball. You can dare to dream, to get excited and start waxing your gun.

Pressure systems aren't conformists. They don't do what anyone tells them. They're free spirits just cruising on the jet stream. They don't care if they crush your dreams of perfect surf. We just have to accept what they give us with good grace and maybe learn to just go surfing when there are surfable waves. Offshore, onshore, whatever. Just get wet. Howling onshore surfs can be hilarious, especially when it's so windy carrying your board down the sand is a right kerfuffle.

We need to not be so caught up in the future and concentrate on the now. If in any doubt about going for a surf try this simple routine:

Now stop wondering what the weather is going to do in a two weeks time and go surfing today.

Ideal Surfer Jobs...

Nobody wants to work. But very few of us are ever going to be good enough to get paid to surf. So how do you get your fix of surfing and still make enough coin to keep you in boards, suits, red wine and surf magazines?

Well here’s a cut out and keep guide to surfer friendly jobs. Working for the man sucks. We’ve all been there. The idiot boss, the aggravating colleagues, long hours for little reward and the slim chance of promotion. The 9 to 5 is a soul-jacking experience. If you think your job is the be all and end all then best not read on, but if you think your job is a way of making money to give you the means necessary to go and do the stuff you really want to do (i.e. surf), then read on.

One of the keys to a surf friendly job is the hours. If you are stuck behind a desk all day then you are rooted, you can only manage weekend warrior status like that. So with a little compromise on the hours you commit your wage slavery you will be the man (or lady) on the dawnie mission whenever it’s on.

Barkeep/Waiting On A classic surfer occupation due to the hours, it’s either lunchtime (when the surf is crowded) or evening (when it’s dark, durr). If you are working behind the bar you are less likely to be quaffing ales as well so you win on a few counts: 1) You are saving loads of money by not spending it on piss 2) You are staying healthy, we all like a few beers but a beer gut and surfing don’t really mix 3) You’ll be clear headed in the morning and on it for the early.

Maccas Much derided but an easy option. The work is uncomplicated, you get free food (even some healthy options these days) and they have stores everywhere. Once you have got some experience you can work in any of the restaurants, as they are all use the same equipment/procedures. So you can work in Newquay, Anglet, Sydney or anywhere else that you want to surf. Hours are flexible, the pay better than you think and when you are done with it all you can always profit by writing a book about how you flobbed on every burger you ever sold.

Bin Person A good way to keep fit and find lots of interesting things that people throw out. Hours are good, you’re done before lunch giving the whole afternoon to surf and the money is cool. Granted you’ll end up smelling like shit and may meet some very strange people in the gutters at 5.30 a.m. but it’s worth it. Get a rural route where it’s more driving than working and you’re styling.

Postie Same deal as above, start early and finish by lunch. You get paid for set hours and once the work is done you can bugger off for a surf so even though you are contracted till 1 o’clock odds are most days you’ll be outta there by 11. If you get a bike round you keep hell fit and around Christmas time you should be able to skim off plenty of cash from the Crimbo cards. Just don’t tell them you got the idea here.

Surf Photog There is no easy way to start being a surf photog. You just have to go out and do it. Sure you’re gonna make mistakes and you will blow heaps of cash on camera gear but get it right, make a name for yourself and you could find yourself getting paid to go on exotic trips. Never gonna make a million doing it, but you’ll be chasing the surf 24/7 and so will surf more than anyone apart from the pros. Unless the waves are firing and the lights good in which case you’ll be shooting with gritted teeth. It’s the devils bargain. You just have to pray for rain cos then you can surf all day.

Surf Journo A rare breed worldwide. All you need is a spark of originality, a good grasp of what works in the surf mags, a tonne of real life experience and access to a computer. A 2000-word article can net anything up to £300 from one magazine, write something really good and you can sell the same piece again to mags in the US, Oz and Europe. Ch-ching. The beauty of the job is you get to go on trips to simply surf and observe, unlike the poor photog that has to carry two tonnes of equipment.

Drug Mule/Runner Not technically legal in some parts of Europe but still a career path that surfers are always gonna take or be associated with by the lazy mass-media. Morally tricky, ethically unsound and there is always the risk of being gunned down when you step on some kingpin’s toes … it’s never pleasant when someone pops a cap in your ass. Not really advised unless you are extremely stupid/desperate/lucky/have a deathwish as recent cases in Bali etc confirm.

Drug Guinea Pig If you can get past the queue of South Africans, the drug test is a legal way to make cash quick for minimum effort. Jarvis is the world authority on the many aspects of this field. Some tests involve a control group being given a placebo (a dummy drug), so you get paid to take a sugar pill and not some shit that may thin your blood or something weird. Course you don’t know if you are on the heavy stuff or the dummy until people start wigging out and spewing everywhere. No surf for the weeks you are doing the test but you can score a couple of grand for a few weeks playing pool. The best we heard was one test where the control group had to drink vodka all day every day? That’s science?

High Class Professional Escort Manwhore Or Regular Lady Hooker: if you’ve got it flaunt it. Can work in any country, although local rates or awkward pimps may make it unworkable in poorer nations. Evening work as well so it frees you up for the early. Possibly illegal, depends on the country and obvious moral/health issues.

Lifeguard: Torture. Sitting on the beach watching witless tourists make tools of themselves whilst the waves pump. Only upside is you can annoy the shit out of other surfers by setting up the swimming area right on the best bank on the whole beach. Good money for sitting on your arse reading the paper all day.

Pilot: Bit of a long shot this one, but if you make the grade you are styling. Plenty of time off, oodles of travel, good salary and you can keep an eye out for new spots when flying. Just don’t let anyone know you’re taking the scenic route to check out that new reef.

Hostie: Traditionally a job reserved for ladies and and men that have a skin care regime but surfing is a broad church and as such all are welcome. Similar perks to pilotry but minus the fun of tooling around in a 747 like you are Luke Skywalker or something. Get an Indo or Pacific route and you will score heaps of waves.

Rig Worker: For the serious surfing monk. You want to surf? You want to travel? Don’t mind being cooped up on a rusting metal box in the middle of the sea, with some very butch men for four weeks at a time? Oil and gas rigs need cleaners, cooks etc and the pay you get for suffering low-grade porn, burly bearded men and having no life at all for half the year is ample. Enough to bog off to Indo every time you get a few weeks off between stints.

So there you go, a smorgasbord of job opportunities for you. Get out of the office and out into the real world and spend more of your time surfing and living than chasing the false gods of money and possessions.

A Green And Peasant Land...

This piece is from four years ago when freelancing was a workable proposition and international photo trips were the norm.

Your humble correspondent is proper knackered. That’s right, I’m ready for the knackers yard, fit for being boiled down into glue or fertiliser or whatever the hell it is they do with half-blind, old horses.

My current malaise is due to some grade ‘A’ jet lag. When I’m trying to get up at 8 a.m. Brit time my body clock is freaking out thinking Hey there! It’s still midnight here in California get some sleep buddy! or it might be thinking It’s still 4 p.m. in Indonesia dude, why are you in bed anyway you lazy sod, mid afternoon disco nap is it? Travelling will do that to you. Whenever you go anywhere that’s eight time zones away it buggers you up.

When you go to one that’s GMT+8 then make a beeline for one that’s GMT-8 without any good old regular GMT in between it ain’t good. Suffice to say in the first two months of this year I’ve hardly had a good nights sleep anywhere and am feeling pretty curmudgeonly (def: crusty, ill-tempered, usually old man). Which is good for one thing: writing bile.

My back to back trips couldn’t have been more polar opposite if they sat at each end of the planet, covered themselves in snow and started callings themselves Poles. In the red and white corner: Indonesia. Third world, malarial, subsistence living, people living a life on the land with a few making western style living through tourism (on Sumbawa at least), local surf population <1000. In the star spangled red, white and blue corner: United States of America. As first world as you get, the richest and most powerful nation on earth, celebrating a brave new age in politics with a fresh, funky leader what can actually read good. They’re the example the rest of the world supposedly looks up to, well, we’ll ignore the Central American style political coup of Bush getting a second term, but you get my gist. Local surf population in the thousands most of whom seem to be old longboarders.

I’ve not been to mainland America or the Bali/Nusa Tenggara end of Indo for ten years so I was expecting a whole heap of change in both. Arriving in Bali was a real clusterfirk for the brain, it took over an hour for the cab to do the few miles from the airport to Poppies Lane. I sat there open mouthed, marvelling, or wincing, I’m not exactly sure, at what used to be Kuta (which to be honest has always been a shithole). There’s a Marks and Spencers and Boots now. There’s Starbucks and Maccas everywhere (as opposed to one Maccas in all of that end of Indo last time) and more polished chrome and glass than you can shake a stick at. There’s even a new dedicated shopping street rammed with all the surf brands that wouldn’t be out of place in Santa Monica.

It was only the ever-present sweet smell of incense and sewage and constant cacophony of car horns that convinced me I’d not got on the wrong plane. A day and two islands later I was in the tourist dollar free end of Indo: Sumbawa. The people there live simple agrarian lifestyles, growing rice, fruit and veggies and living in wooden shacks they knock up themselves. Family is important, village life is strong, everyone’s looked after, polygamy is fine, there are no doors to have locks on and everyone seems happy. Well I say everyone. If you toil in the tropical heat in a rice field all day you get something in the region of 50p for your trouble. If you give surfers rides to other surf spots on your moped or video them surfing the going rate is six times that for less than a few hours sitting on your arse. Yet these guys are the unhappy ones, guys who on a good day can make 1000% more money for a 1000% less effort than they would without the surfers. Some were so unhappy they threatened some surfers with violence to leave as they weren’t getting paid enough. Not enough for them to buy as much beer as they wanted at least. The surfers did leave, so it kind of backfired. A classic case of biting the hand that feeds.

On to California. The one thing that struck me most about most of Cali is how wild and undeveloped it is. Outside of the madness of L.A it’s easy to find wilderness and solitude. Wildlife is so abundant I saw dolphins, seals, sea otters, pelicans, hummingbirds, coyotes and odd little squirrel things without even trying.

The American way is every man for himself, which is fine if your winning, not so if you’re losing. The society the world wants to emulate lets the poor and damaged slip through the cracks. Which explains why there were beggars, homeless people and ice-fuelled mentalists wherever we went (even in the really posh towns). In Indo where the people have nothing you can roam at night only worried about snakes. In the richest nation on earth there are no go areas, places you just can’t go to at night if you value your safety. Everyone has fences, intruder alarms and guns. Something somewhere seems a bit arse backwards but I can’t quite get my head around it.

Driving down from Ventura towards L.A there are vast tracts of fruit farms. In the most high tech society on earth the fruit is picked, not by some whizzy automated machine, but by gangs of sweating Mexican labourers. The only visible difference between them and their Indonesian counterparts is they had portable loos on a trailer, the Indo’s just squat and crap in the nearest gutter.

I can’t help but wonder who is happier. In the surf it doesn’t make any difference which society is on land- some people are really friendly, some are dicks and most keep themselves to themselves. The waves are infinitely better where the rice grows though.

15 Things That Are Law (Girl Version)...

I had a request from a friend to make the 50 Laws post below a bit less boycentric. So here's some handy lady specific surf laws:

1.  Hairbands. Hairbands. Hairbands. Can't reiterate how much a good hairband is your friend while surfing. You'll need as many hairband spares as you do leash strings and FCS keys. No hairband equals swallowing your hair after duck dives and that's really grim as is getting it trapped under your hand as you pop up. Of course a sensible bob hair cut stops the issue. 
2. Waterproof make up. Don't do it. Surfing is about being natural. It's about having fun, not looking hot. (Well maybe just a tiny bit of eyeliner). 
3. Fake tan is useful for easing the gradation of the farmer/surfer tan poohead look that's an unavoidable factor of British surfing. Brown face and hands white everything else is tricky to pull off. On land of course. Fake tan in the sea is silly. 
4. Simple fact: no one looks stunning in a wetsuit. No matter how perfect your figure a goofy rubber suit is still just that. It's function not fashion. 
5. Surfing in a bikini is liberating and fun. But always do the three point check after a wipeout. Don't give the boys a free show. 
6. Being a lady gives you a certain latitude in the line up. Men won't grumble so much if you paddle past them or snake them as if you were a fella. But take it easy. Rule breaking is still a crime no matter how pert your bottom. 
7. Bikini's under wetsuits. Not needed but it does make getting changed easier. As things can fly out when you're not concentrating. 
8. Were all equals here so don't expect the boys to tie your board on the roof. A woman that knows her way round a roof rack strap is hot. 
9. Your hair will hate you. End of. Conditioner is your friend.
10. Don't be sucked in to the 'oh you're a girl you can cook thing' on surf trips. Boys will pretend to be useless and expect you to be their mother if you let them. They're just lazy.
11. On surf trips abroad packing light means not bringing a litre of shampoo and a litre of conditioner and your whole bathroom of product. Buy what you need when you get there. 
12. A good sunbathing bikini is rarely a good surfing bikini.
13. Boardies are essential at the start of any tropical trip. otherwise you will burn your arse.
14. Good sun cream, as in sticky fudgey stuff that stays on in the sea, will stop you looking 40 at 30. Protect yourself
15. Long nails are nature's own wax comb.

If you've got any more suggestions fire them to me on Twitter.

@surf_photo dude this is 100% true haha it's perfect

— Grace (@Grace0crespo) May 1, 2013

@surf_photo 🔎 My extensive Global research revealed the thinner the bikini material the less it moves/falls down as not weighted with water

— Wendy (@Wendy_McG) May 1, 2013

50 Things That Are Surf Law...

Surfing is not about rules, it's groovy and not for squares, it is a counter-culture after all. That's all well and good but even counter-cultures need rules and regulations. Make sure you abide by these for a fulfilling and happy surfing life.

1. Always have two blocks of wax in your car. One freshy for your stick and one sandy, pube-ridden, possibly dog-chewed, fragment for lending to the inevitable wax taxing pikey in the car park. It’s a win-win.
2. If you’re getting a lift with a mate for a wave make sure you pack a bin bag for your post-surf, piss-ridden, damp suit. The driver doesn’t want the acrid taint of your piss haunting their car once you’ve gone.
3. Never claim the surf by text message to your mates until it’s too late. When it’s near dusk and any chance of getting in has evaporated then by all means drop the OMG it was off its fricking chops today! Where were you? LOL! to rub it right in.
4. Never ever use LOL or OMG in a text message or online unless you are a teenage girl or pretending to be a teenage girl.
5. We don’t need to tell you this but just to be sure: DO NOT ever wear board shorts outside of your wetsuit. Unless you want every single right-minded person in the universe to think you are a tool of the highest order; and yes it is okay to point and laugh if you see someone doing it. 
6. Ultra hairiness is not cool. Chicks do not dig it. Invest in some clippers. Keep that shit at ’number two’ max. You’ll be surprised at the benefits. One being not peeling your suit off and it appearing that its been borrowed by a mountain gorilla. The other being, err, some things look larger. That said a Connery style chest wig is acceptable as long as it ain't too much of a thatch. 
7. Always be as careful as a brain surgeon if you are bringing razor sharp mechanised clipper blades of doom anywhere near your meat and two veg. Trust us it smarts when it goes wrong and it's a tricky area to apply a plaster.
8. You can never have too many of the following: fin keys, leash strings, leashes, fins. Keep spares squirrelled in your car, garage and girlfriend's house.
9. If you are too deep for the wave of the day go anyway to give the crowd a show. Everyone loves a good swan dive into the flats and someone on the right spot can still enjoy the ride.
10. By all means hack down a tree and shape yourself an alaia board if you feel the need to be a hipster. Just don’t expect a spot in the line-up rotation. They don't paddle, can't turn and if you really want to be doing stand up 360s you can buy a bodyboard. 
11. No matter how many fin keys you own, the length of time it takes to find one is in direct proportion to the quality of the waves. Where's yours right now? 
12. See. Told you. Get one on your key-ring. 
13. Ladies, barbecues are a man thing. They may never cook normally (and sadly spag-bol ain't cooking, that's warming) but when it comes to fire-based, outdoor cooking the inner caveman takes over. No questions. 
14. There's no such thing as a veggie BBQ. Would you really want your Quorn burger burnt on the same grill as the hydraulically reclaimed meat and abattoir floor sweepings that pass for burgers? You may not win any friends with salad, but you will miss out on the E-coli food poisoning. 
15. Never hang a wetsuit out to dry near a BBQ, unless you get off on the smell of burnt rubber and/or greasy meat debris on your precious. 
16. Boffins have calculated it takes exactly four and a half minutes from when you buy a new board until you ding it on the nearest solid object with a sharp edge.
17. Riding a longboard is actually only legal from July 30 to August 30. The police told me so. 
18. Cruising on a foam board is okay any time of year as they are super fun and are amazing for doing big floaters on, knee friendly and ding proof too, also you can run over tourists who will think you're an inexperienced tourist too. 
19. Surfing leashless maybe a freeing experience and great for your fitness but it’s lethal in busy waves. If you’re doing the 4:30 a.m. dawny then knock yourself out; anyone else in the line-up and you'll be knocking someone else out.
20. Coffee maybe the poor man’s cocaine, but stained teeth and bad breath are preferable (and 10x cheaper) than paranoia, impotence and a heart attack in your thirties. 
21. The first rule of Surf Club is: you don't talk about Surf Club.
22. The second rule of Surf Club: no smoking. 
23. The third rule: no sandy feet, we've just had the carpet valeted.
24. You don't need to get every biggest and best set wave of the day. Sharing is caring and sometimes the smaller ones run better.
25. If you see some litter on the beach on your way back to the car pick it up. Might not be yours but it'll do wonders for your karma.
26. Recycling doesn’t only apply to newspapers and bottles. 
27. Give broken boards away to people less fortunate than yourself. Especially when in the Third World. 
28. When you say, ‘This is my last wave!’ mean it, even if it's a smoking deep keg. If you paddle back out for just one more you can guarantee you will either a) paddle around in a mirror calm ocean for half an hour and have to paddle in looking like a bona fide idiot or b) snap your pelvis on the next one. 
29. Never drive away from good surf.  
30. You will regret it, cos you can guarantee that by the time you get back from searching up and down the coast the tide will have changed and the bank will have turned to mush.  
31. Never piss in your wetsuit in the car park. 
32. And really, never piss in your suit in the car park then kick piss drips at your friends from the ankles. That's just gross. 
33. It goes without saying that dumping in your wetsuit is a no-no. 
34. Unless you have dysentery. Or if the surf is the best it's ever been and ever will be, although this is a movable goalpost. It has been known in Ireland on epic tow days. 
35. Don't attempt to dry your wetty using the hang it over the wing mirror whilst driving at speed technique. It will blow off into a cow field or become grill decor for the following HGV. 
36. Cheap is not an option. Your wetty is not a style statement. It is a technical item. By the best one you can. Warmth and flexibility are worth paying for. A twenty quid from the garage job is not a good suit. 
37. Chafing is an unavoidable hazard. No matter how good the suit if you surf a lot you will get neck rubs. Which look like obscene love bites. Doesn’t matter, let the rest of the world think you're still having frenetic teenage style sex. 
38. Never love bite a wetsuit rub, it's sticky. 
39. Surfing is done on the water not on the Interweb. 
40. Winter is the surfing season. Summer is for tourists, surf schools, hobbyists and longboarders. 
41. You should always tell at least one newbie that the wax goes on the bottom of the board to make it go faster, like a snowboard then watch the confusion.  
42. Conversely always tell a beginner that the zip does indeed go on the back of the wetty, no one should be allowed to walk down a beach like that.  
43. When travelling don't haggle over two pence it makes you seem like a twat. Spread the wealth. 
44. One drop in is an accident, two is rude, three is a twatable offence. 
45. Living somewhere for a year does not make you a local. 
46. Living somewhere for five years still does not make you local, it makes you a regular.  
47. Being a true local is not a license to act like a twat.  
48. Learn how to forecast waves the old school way using pressure maps alone.
49. Learn how to cook a roast. Nothing better than making your own Sunday spread. 
50. Making lists is a really easy way to do a blog post... ;)

Have a good weekend y'all!

Photo: Oli Adam's home run.

9 Reasons Surf Photography Is Painful

Taking pictures of surfing is double awesome obviously. It's getting paid just to have fun. While shooting from land the only risk is pulling your back from having a stupidly heavy camera bag.

It's in the water where you really pay your dues. Here's a little cut out and keep guide to the kind of stuff we put up with whilst trying to get aquatic images. This list is made from real world experience.

Torn Off Nails Swimfins are your friend. The little rubber blades are your lifeline and propulsion when out swimming. Losing them is a ball ache. Which is why we tend to tie them on in heavy conditions with shoelaces to prevent this happening.

If a lip lands on your heel as you are swimming under a wave the force of the wave can parachute the fin momentarily off your foot before the elasticity of the rubber heel strap brings it back on. All well and good. Except rubber is quite grippy. That ping back can snag your toe nails and snap them clean off in a jiffy … and yes it hurts as much as you imagine having a nail torn off would, except being in the sea you then have salt/sand going straight in the open wound. Not to mention still needing to swim. Yes. Fricking painful. 8/10 on the Pain-O-Meter.

Frozen Flesh Something that only us Northern European and North American types have to worry about. Flesh exposed to the elements while swimming can go a bit funny. I don't wear socks when swimming as they are shit. So am use to my feet turning to blocks of ice.

What's not so nice is when you get out and the last bit of ankle skin before the toasty wetsuit starts all just falls off cos the skin has in fact just given up and died. Leaving a bloody, sticky ring of destruction around your ankle. A mere 2/10 on the Pain scale as it's so cold and numb you can't feel jack shit anyway.

Stuffed Right Knee Going over the falls in a front flip on a wedgey beach break, say like the Wedge in Newquay, and landing in six inches of water with your leg locked hurts. Blown cartilage thanks very much. 7/10 Pain. It's more the long drawn out nature of rehab that's the bugger here.

Broken Rib Going over the falls with a brand new housing and surfacing to find it leaking is bad, but not painful. Until you break the golden rule of never turning your back on the ocean to survey the potential damage to a couple of grands worth of camera gear and you get blown into the air by a shorebreak whomper and get pile driven into the sand breaking a rib. Pain factor 5/10. Main annoyance: not being able to laugh or breathe without it hurting for a month after.

Board To Head Tourists. Do not trust them. Board to side of head tearing a hole in front of ear and leaving a kickass headache for a month afterwards is what happens if you give them a chance. Pain factor: 8/10. Fear factor of internal brain bleed 9/10.

Bust Left Knee Going over the falls at perfect Mundaka and getting driven straight legged into the bottom (other leg, so it all balances out) for nuked cartilage, buggered ligament and a sprinkling of bone chips on the side. Pain factor: 9/10. Longevity factor 10/10 … as in it was 11 years ago and still hurts every day.

Broken Thumb Same wipeout. Didn't even know until knee Doctor pointed it out. Cracked thumb knuckle by refusing to let go of housing whilst getting Mundaka whipped. Pain factor: 4/10 no biggy.

Sand Under Contact I'm a little bit blind. So wear contacts when shooting. They sometimes float off a little bit and you can get tiny bits of sand stuck under them. Which then scratch the bejeezus out of your retina. Double ouch. Salt factor makes it excruciating. Pain factor: 8/10. Feels like someone's stabbing a fag on your eye and the pain lasts for weeks afterwards.

Bottom Whomping Swimming under waves is all well and good when there's sufficient water to get under the waves. When there isn't … Well. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what happens when you get caught inside. You get royally rickrolled.

You can curl up in a ball on the bottom and just get smashed or you can lay flat and just take the free chiropractic session. It's actually a remarkably good way of freeing any kinks and tensions in your back and spine. Pain factor: 3/10 the biggest worry is the housing twatting you in the face or getting stuffed into the bottom. As is in sea floor bottom, not your bottom, that's just weird.

The Biggest Wave In History?

This article was written over ten years ago. Before the Boxing Day tsunami of 2004 that unleashed hell across the Indian Ocean and the mind-blowing destruction of the Japanese tsunami of 2011. I've dug it out as there was a doco on BBC2 last night on mega-tsunamis that's well worth checking out on iPlayer.

For as long as I can remember 'Lituya Bay' has been lodged in my deep subconscious. I don't know where I picked it up, probably as a kid whilst reading the Readers Digest Bumper Book of Essential Knowledge on a bored, rainy day.

Best Put The Kettle On...

I'm a surf writer. I don't tend to tackle serious subjects. Yet the events in Boston yesterday were despicable. There's no suggestion at this point who or why innocent people were targeted. The column below was written the day after the 7/7 events in London which were equally shocking. So here goes:

Writing a column for a surf mag is a fun thing to do, surfing is fun, the whole deal is fun.

Fun can be a bit selfish. As surfers we can sometimes be accused of having our head in the sand when it comes to the rest of the world. Looking towards the oceans and heavens all the time, shunning the real world and real issues, more intent on looking for our next fix of wave-sliding natural bliss.

How To Couch Surf...

If you surf you will travel.

Whether it's in this country or the far ends of the planet you'll meet people on these travels and form bonds. Some are temporary and involve mixing your genetic code with each other for fun.

Others are more tangible: those fellow surfers you share waves, beers and good times with that become mates. So it's inevitable that you'll be offered to crash at a mates house while on the road. It's a simple courtesy that can be a lifesaver. Couch surfing is a fact of life; if you are a decent human.

To ensure your welcome and that for others after you stays open make sure you do it right. Being a good guest is a skill which needs to be learnt … fast.  

• Suss the situation asap. Is there a partner/wife/husband/kids? This is a major thing, what's cool in a single guy's pad is not cool in a dude's family home. Respect and consideration are key. 
• Stay as long as was agreed. Most couch surfs are a night or two. If it's a longer stint then you really need to make sure you win 'House Guest Of The Year'. You want to leave the hosts with a happy tear in their eye as you leave so sad are they that your glittering and easy company is going. 
• Don't be a sponge. Turn up with bread, milk and a bottle of wine/beers. Even if it's not needed it lays out your intention not to be food hoover. That consideration we mentioned earlier is key here. Help out with groceries. Try and feed yourself as much as possible. Of course it's inevitable your hosts will offer you meals but don't take the piss. You've got free digs so shout them a good takeaway or take them out for dinner. Nando's never broke the bank. Also learn how to wash up/load a dish washer. Helping out spreads the load and earns you brownie points. 
• Be hygienic. Keep yourself clean and smelling good. A shower every other day is no big deal and always deodorise. Bring your own towel and leave the bathroom immaculate. You want your hosts to wonder if you ever use the bathroom. So that means no skids in the pan, floaters or stenches that would fell a frail person. The good old lighter trick works if you've got a rank, odour producing dump, a quick flame will burn your noxious methane bum burps. As does going for a flush the second you've dropped the main load out the bomb doors. 
• Keep your language respectable. Shouldn't need saying but especially if there are kids around. No mother wants to have to try and deprogram their child from saying 'sick hunt' because they picked it up from dad's visiting surf buddy. Also avoid the sensitive subjects like religion and politics. You may be Richard Dawkins biggest fan but everyone is entitled to their beliefs. Even if you consider them mental. 
• Sleep tight. If you've been lucky enough to score a guest bedroom then keep it spotless. Don't be a sloth. You're here to surf so make sure you're off and out early. Drag your host if possible. They'll thank you for it. Don't hang out all day watching Jeremy Kyle. Even if the surf goes bung explore the local area. If you are sleeping on the couch sleep when the hosts go to bed and be up before they are. Bring a sleeping bag. Good guests don't turn their hosts lounge into their bedroom. 
• Be polite. As with language make sure your actions are beyond reproach. No flirting with your host's partner. Down that road a chinning lies. So eyes front soldier. Don't be stupidly polite though, if someone offers you a cup of tea they shouldn't need to have a debate with you to convince you it really is no bother. 
• Don't get pissed. Simple. The two drink rule applies. Two glasses of wine or two beers gets you a nice buzz on and keeps the conversation lively. You're here to surf so waking up with a brain dehydrated to the size of a walnut and scrambled guts is not a good idea. If you dig chemical recreation then it goes without saying that shit doesn't float when you're being a guest. 
• Leave well. Suss out what is favoured in the wine department. Leave a bottle that your hosts will dig and maybe some chocolates to say thank you. And of course offer your couch/floor space in return should the need ever arise. Once on your merry way drop a text when you've hit your next destination thanking them for the hospitality. 

That's about it. It ain't rocket science. Be considerate. Be funny. Be warm. Be you. Leave your hosts thinking the sun really does shine out of your bomb doors and eager for you to swing by another time when the surf is cooking.

Photo: Felix Dickson getting some PT gold earlier this year shot by moi of course.

An Ode To A Crook Neck...

There was a time, back in the day, when sleeping in your car was the done thing. We thought nothing of rocking down the Welsh coast* for a surf, having a good session, then getting out near sun down before heading in to town to get fish'n'chips and a few tinnies for the evening.

After the deep-fried, fat-injection we’d truck back to the beach, watch the last wisps of the sun go down over a few cold ones and talk story. As the dusk turned to night we’d still be there, talking crap, drinking, by now slightly tepid beer, and chewing over the days rides. At some point, generally when the beer was all gone and the regulation Austin Powers style piss had been unleashed, we’d assume our positions.