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The Thing That Could Not Be

How pro surfing blew its date with destiny at the Volcom Fiji Pro.
Hands_Fiji_100 How pro surfing blew its date with destiny at the Volcom Fiji Pro. By Steve Shearer.

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Mother nature flexing her muscles in the south pacific. Pic: ASP/Kirstin

On Thanksgiving Day 1974 a nervous knot of 36 invited surfers to the Smirnoff Pro stood shuffling their feet in the Park at Waimea Bay. A 35 ft close-out set had just stood up black and inviolate before roaring in as an avalanche of whitewater up over the steep beach and into the park. The air was full of sea mist and the thunderous roar of huge surf.
“It’s too big Fred, too dangerous” said Barry Kanaiupuni, the acknowledged master of Sunset Beach, addressing Fred Hemmings the contest Director.
The square jawed man with the physique of a sawn-off linebacker grimaced so the muscles in his jaw bulged. Straight Ahead Fred they called him.
“That’s my call to make Barry”, he said, holding the man’s gaze.
“Now if I paddle out there and surf will you?”, he challenged.

A day of epic big wave grotesque theatre followed, in which a 21-yr-old haole named Peter Townend challenged an all-Hawaiian final to post a third place finish behind Reno Abellira [pictured below left] and Jeff Hakman. Up to that point Townend had been tagged Mr Three Feet and Under. An article written in Sports Illustrated at the time summed up the import of the day: “Is Abellira the best wave rider on earth? That is hardly in doubt now, for it was, indeed, the biggest, toughest sea ever surfed in competition.” Said the veteran contestant Craig (Owl) Chapman: “If you took all the waves surfed competitively in California for 20 years and on the East Coast for five, they wouldn’t add up to what you saw today.”

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Eleven years later in 1985 history repeated itself as the surfers in the Billabong Pro stared down 30ft surf at Waimea with a gloriously composed performance by former world champ Mark Richards cementing his place in surfing history.

They were momentous occasions when pro surfing made a statement about what was considered the pinnacle of the sport/artform. Many surfers stepped right out of their comfort zone and faced down the fear of annihilation at the hands of the ocean at it’s most awe inspiring. Others were unable to and slid into obscurity.

Friday could have, should have been, one of those line-in-the-sand days when the elite of the Tour put their mettle and skill on public display when the ocean offers the ultimate challenge. Lets not be unduly hyperbolic but it was a day of days at Cloudbreak and it was on the radar for at least a week.

Six days ago I sat on the broad brow of Lennox Head and watched majestic swells marching up the Tasman. 16,17,18 second swell periods, supercharged by a secondary storm in the Tasman Sea. This was an uncommon event, timed exquisitely to arrive smack-bang in the middle of the waiting period for the Volcom Pro.

Everyone could see it coming, the pros knew it was coming. There was time to prepare, to make a commitment, to secure the necessary big wave equipment, as the contestants at the Smirnoff had done.  

Fan expectation of epic tube-riding duels at massive Cloudbreak was sky high, boosted by the memory of last years mega event which Slater had missed J-Bay for.

There was reason to be cheerful as the day began at Cloudbreak with challenging wind coming up the face but plenty of waves being ridden. The call to go on hold seemed cautious and fans expected competition to resume. Sure it was super challenging and not perfect but the spectacle of riders spinning under the pitching crest and taking massive drops offset the hindered performance potential. Three times the call to stay on hold was made due to an unfavourable devil wind that made the surf extraordinarily difficult to ride. But it wasn’t impossible. And the tantalising spectre of perfect huge Cloudbreak was ever present.

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Hawaiian Reef McIntosh gets a perfect ten from the judges. Pic: ASP/Kirstin

At 2pm the Final Call to hold off the days competition was made, by the Contest Director, Head Judge and surfer reps. Immediately, social media erupted with howls of protest. It was a Code Red Day of cognitive dissonance for surf fans as images being broadcast live from Fiji began to show gargantuan barrels being made. Ironically, one of the first of these huge pits was negotiated by Damo Hobgood, one of the ASP top 34. Within a half hour of the call being made a stunned public watched on as waves of incredible magnitude, hollowness and perfection roared through the Cloudbreak line-up, mostly successfully ridden by an elite crew of big wave tube hounds.

But where were the pros? The best of the best? The webcast showed a drowsy CJ Hobgood fresh from taking a nap talking about the conditions. Ramon Navarro had just successfully ridden behind the foamball on a wave that shocked the world and here was CJ having a snooze? Of course CJ has figs the size of grapefruit, he has nothing to prove but it was a bad look for the Top 34. Kelly Slater spent time in the booth commentating the webcast as Healy, McIntosh, Jensen Hassett caught the waves of a lifetime. It was weird. Like Edmund Hillary watching Tenzing Norgay finally crest the summit of Everest from the safety of base camp.

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A number of the ASP’s top 34 elite showed plenty of cag, Joel Parkinson was one of them. Pic: ASP/Kirstin

I told Kelly Slater by email that fans were “struggling to comprehend” why the event wasn’t held. He replied with a testy email: “What people at home didn’t understand is that there were 3′ chops up the face of the waves basically until it was called off making barrel riding nearly impossible. Then, yes… it got really good from about 2:30 on. Amazing actually. Prior to that hardly a wave was made and it definitely wasn’t good by anyone’s standards. At that point only 3-4 more heats would’ve run. The best big wave guys on earth charged waves that most people couldn’t deal with or will never see and it really was life or death. That’s not really worth points and money, it’s for if you really love that environment and have the experience to back it. Today was a milestone in (big wave) surfing no matter how you slice it.  It could’ve been really rad for ASP but it also could’ve seen lots of wasted waves with only two guys and not a crowd pushing each other. Sounds like you are searching for a negative angle IMO. Why focus on the negative? Take today for what it was. I’ve never seen waves like it. Insane!”

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Another Hawaiian charger, Ian Walsh. Pic: ASP/Kirstin

I was surprised, shocked even that Slater hadn’t been able to see the historical opportunity available to the ASP and the Top 34. Dangerous? Life threatening? Of course! That’s the primal attraction of live sport broken down to the simple equation: Risk=reward. It’s been the same since the best and bravest dared emerge from the cave to face the snarling beast in the night. Since Theseus slew the Minotaur. The emotional pay-off for the spectator comes from experiencing the thrill vicariously and witnessing ultimate skill in the teeth of danger. What Hemingway termed courage.

Early this year I wrote in an article that “One hall of fame day at Cloudbreak could obliterate the criticism surrounding the sport and supply it with the legitimacy it desperately needs.” Actually I didn’t, but I’m saying it now.

Friday presented an historical opportunity to seize the narrative and demand respect from an ever-cynical public. Objections such as the ones outlined by Slater could have been dealt with by preparation and planning. Slater himself had the perfect solution to the problem of unridden waves. Overlapping 40min heats would have seen four men in the water and a challenger for each set wave at a bare minimum.
The opportunity cost missed in seeing John John Florence take on a heat in 15 ft Cloudbreak alone should have rattled the ASP hierarchy to the core. As it was John John stared down and speared between the eyes a monster tube; the kind of wave that could have re-defined contest surfing for a generation.

A little while later I got another e-mail from Kelly. The earlier certainty had been replaced by a more reflective ambivalence. “Did they blow it not running? I’m not sure. Historical rides happened during that time. Was it the best decision at the time? Probably.”

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“I thought you said you were going? I would’ve gone (cough, cough) for sure!” Pic: ASP/Kirstin

1977 World Champ and one who felt the sting of Straight Ahead Fred’s uncompromising sense of machismo, Shaun Tomson, was unequivocal in his assessment: “One of the worst decisions in the history of the sport was not to compete at Cloudbreak – truly a missed opportunity of epic proportions both for the fans and the pro surfers themselves. A one-two punch to the head of the ASP = A black eye for the organization and a black eye for the best surfers in the world denied of showing the world what they can do in epic surf. “

He understood perfectly well what all armchair warriors had felt so keenly that afternoon: “We would have seen surfing from the best surfers in the world that would have redefined big wave performance. And some surfers would have found the courage they never knew they had.”

Joel Parkinson called it a missed opportunity and proclaimed, “seriously, we should have surfed”.

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When good intentions go awry, top 34 surfer Pat Gadauskas puckers up. Pic: ASP/Kirstin

But Slater is right about one thing. This is not the time to dwell on the negative. That would be churlish in the extreme. We witnessed an epoch-defining display of paddle-in tube-riding and an historical power shift in terms of defining the elite. The moment has now passed and the consequences will filter slowly into the bedrock of the culture.

For any pros reading, a perusal of the sporting wisdom of Vince Lombardi might give a glimpse to the chasm between what was offered by fate and what was chosen as destiny. “Unless a man believes in himself and makes a total commitment to his career and puts everything he has into it – his mind, his body, his heart – what’s life worth to him?”

There was a time in professional surfing when those words might have meant something but it’s hard to see that today. Lets go back to that hot and sunny afternoon in Hawaii in 1974. The young prince Reno is being crowned the champion after a day riding giants. Had the winner ever ridden bigger waves? Reno flashed an incandescent smile. “No,” he said, “not bigger than those.” How had he felt out there? “I was scared.”

This comp has finished with another display of Slater mastery but the moment to re-define the sport has been lost, maybe forever. Thats the way I see it. What do you think?

– Steve Shearer

Note: Read Col Bernasconi’s opinion (blog) on that fateful day HERE

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