Brazilian Storm

The Rainbow Bay Surf Club is swelling to capacity. Being amongst the common people of Coolangatta is a departure from the drums, bums and Brazilian flags lining the beach to usher in the Brazilian storm. The final between Snapper Rocks royalty, Joel Parkinson and excitement machine, Gabriel Medina will be a colossal clash. It’s the old guard versus new, Australia versus Brazil and Billabong versus Rip Curl.

Gabriel Medina walloping his way down the line in the final against Joel Parkinson. Photo by Peter Joli Wilson

As the hometown hero’s name is announced Parko’s fans cry out barely audible tones. Most have been drinking here all afternoon and it appears happy hour has stretched for the entire Quiksilver Pro. The scent of sea spray, beer and B.O hits me like a rubber thong as we all get up close and personal and I try to hold on to every inch of the timber deck I can dig my heels into.

The conditions are perfect. It’s 3-5 foot, pumping Snapper with a light offshore and the sky is a golden yellow. Joel knows this wave like the back of his hand. Instinctively, he instantly finds a nugget from behind the rock, falls straight into a barrel, unleashing a series of open face carves, setting the tone for what looks set to be a one sided affair.

Joel answered back, letting rip with big power turns and angry hacks. Photo by Peter Joli Wilson

With a solid Brazilian fan base on the Gold Coast, Medina wasn’t about to roll over. The goofy-footer answered back with plenty of variety. Hanging on the roof with a floater and punching through the lip with a series of backhand belts announcing his intention to take the title from the clutches of Joel’s hands.

Schooner glasses were being chinked and a sea of pickled smiles let on the first signs of celebration, as the local watering hole grew wild. The score sheet reflected a much more balanced exchange, 14.13 to 14.10 in favour of Parko. This was becoming more a dogfight than a cakewalk.

Medina flights one up into the golden light. Photo by Peter Joli Wilson

Supremely confident Joel strokes into one of the biggest waves of the final and is very, very deep. Committed to the barrel, he holds on but is ejected as backwash turns the potential perfect 10 into a warping mutant, squeezing him like a sandwich press and onto the rocks. He pops up, his magic stick blown in half, hands in the air, waving for his backup.

But where is Wes Berg? Probably planning the after party in the competitor’s Taj Mahal but is now blasting his legs, running towards the point to arm Parko with another blade. Joel looks pissed, his brow stern and eyes black, snatches the board, scurries up the rocks and composes himself for another round.

Parko went for the barrels but threw down some incredible man-turns down the line. Photo by Peter Joli Wilson

Medina catches a wave with priority and proceeds to go absolutely bananas, banking huge 12 o’clock snaps, up and into the pocket mercilessly. Each time extending his back foot to accentuate the tail and drift back into the face. Defying gravity he holds himself up in the lip, eyes fixed on a dance down the line.

He backs it up quickly, this wave more of a grower. Accelerating out of his turns, possessing nerves of steel, he blows the fins out of his turns and puts on a display of how to ride backside at Snapper Rocks. He finishes well into Rainbow Bay kicking out to the cheers and whistles of a bikini-clad crowd. The momentum shifts to team Medina.

Parko anxiously waits to see if he did enough to get the score. Photo by Peter Joli Wilson

Parko knows he needs a good barrel and goes on the hunt. Pulling into a bomb he can’t manage a Houdini exit. Gabriel now has Joel in a vice grip with less than three minutes to go, holding priority. His last two waves come in at an 8.5 and a 7.83, taking the lead by 0.06 and the crowd grows silent.

This is the exact moment that Gabriel Medina realised he’d won the Quiksilver Pro. Photo by Peter Joli Wilson

With time ticking down Parko strokes into a wave, knowing that he has to surf out of his skin to get the score. He wills himself down the line, surfing angry and banking a big hook in the pocket before getting slingshot down the line and pulls up into the lip to loosen the fins. It looks just about good enough to get him the score but he comes unglued on his final crack and the judges don’t like seeing that.

You can bet that all these fans and more will be partying with Gabriel tonight. Photo by Peter Joli Wilson

The seconds are counted out and Gabriel slots into a silky barrel as beach commentator, Chris Binns announces the young Brazilian’s victory. His head drops in elation and the emotion on his face is palpable. In the dying minutes Medina has gone from sitting in a distant second to claiming the Quiksilver Pro, the first ever Brazilian and only the second goofy footer in the event’s history. He’s managed to pip Joel at the post winning by the slimmest of margins, 16.33 to 16.27.

Light is fading and the spotlights come on to prepare for the presentation. The ASP couldn’t have written a better script. “Local hero defeated by twenty-year old, Brazilian wunderkind.” The beach is packed, and finally they’ve stopped playing Creed and Nickelback over the speakers. I’m just about sold that pro surfing is ok again.

The first time a Brazilian has won the Quiksilver Pro and only the second goofy footer to claim a title. Photo by Peter Joli Wilson

Gabriel Medina looks to have approached this year with a completely different plan. Instead of taking to the sky and trying to out surf his opponents with airs and chest pumping he is putting it on rail with plenty of muscle, serving it back to the veterans with good old fashioned power. But variety and a never give up attitude at this event is what set him apart. He’s contained his emotions and realised having a sense of entitlement for a world title doesn’t get you any closer to one. There will be a big party in Coolangatta tonight as the current Brazilian world number one drinks in the glory and sambas with adoring fans.