Tracks May 2015

The apartments were little more than dishevelled cubes of rendered concrete. The external walls had been battered by decades of howling southerlies and the paint flaked away like sunburnt skin. However, somehow you could still just make out the faded, man-size, lettering on the front, which read 'Tama House'. Inside, tentacles of damp crept up the walls, the stairs felt a little unsteady underfoot and you didn't dare stand too long under the wobbling ceiling fans lest you be the first to suffer the fate of the spinning guillotines. But what the place lacked in aesthetics and décor it more than made up for in location. Perched high on the headland above Mackenzies Bay, the block looked straight across the enchanting coves of Tamarama and Bronte. When enough sand formed…

Peter ‘Bosko’ Boskovic is an eternal student of light. It’s an obsession, and to be a successful photographer, any kind of photographer, it has to be this way. While the majority of surf photographers work with the natural light provided by the sun, Bosko has long been attempting to perfect the art of introducing artificial light to his shots via flash. Flash photography is a technical discipline at the best of times, but when your studio space is a constantly changing ocean and your backdrop a vibrant morning sky, it verges on ridiculous. “Basically I have to look at the surf and choose a spot where I think the airs will happen,” explains Bosko. “Once I’ve got a fair idea, I set up a flash and reflector dish on the…

To be honest, I didn't even really bother shooting this day. Despite the fact that the cyclone swell buzz was afoot - there are few oceanic distractions for surfers to rival looming cyclones - the waves in Byron were not quite there. I'd heard that Parko and mini-Parko and Hippo had hit a coral reef island not all that far from here; I'd heard there were waves on the Goldy; and I'd heard it was all systems go any hour now. And freshly psyched from the obvious bonanza they'd had down south courtesy of a big south swell, I was up early, ready to shoot something nice and corduroy. First light however had revealed sublime conditions, but I couldn't really find the gold. The south-westerly wind was hitting Main Beach…

It begun with a generous helping of southern-style goodness at the V.I. . dinner. Current pros and past legends dined on the tender, slow-cooked grindz prepared by JR’S Smokehouse, the team regarded as the best cooks of authentic, southern-style BBQ in Aus’. If Floridian, CJ Hob-good, flounders in his next heat it’s because he went back for one too many serves of spare ribs and brisket – sorry CJ, we accept full responsibility. Yes, it was a classic, greasy-fingered feast washed down with cold Coronas and beats by Boston Switch and then taken upon another notch by a few Patron Margaritas and shots of electric blue Alize. Post V.I.P party we tucked the hard-working pros into bed and bolted to the Rainbow Bay Surf Club for a night of raucous…

D’BAH – SURFING’S GAZA STRIP BORDER POLICE STEP IN AT THE QUIKY PRO. "In the new whiz-bang world of WSL the narrative has to be controlled and every development – even if it means a re-location to a lesser wave – has to be presented as an exciting new adventure for the contest and its audience."… And this is precisely the reason why we all hate the fucking commentary team and the thinly veneered brave new world of the WSL. They lie through their teeth while grinning right at us. Shit waves are called "tricky" when we can all see how exactly how shit they are… right behind them! It's the American way - call a spade a gold plated shovel. Unfortunately for the WSL most surfers can smell this…

WHEN YOU’RE A SURFER IN SOUTHERN QUEENSLAND, NORTH STRADBROKE ISLAND IS AS CLOSE TO THE COUNTRYSIDE AS YOU CAN GET. THE LANDSCAPE DOESN’T POSSESS THE SAME BARREN ATTRIBUTES OF SOMEWHERE LIKE CANBERRA OR KEMPSEY, BUT WHEN YOU’RE AN ISOLATED ISLAND, GEOGRAPHICALLY SANDWICHED BETWEEN THE ALCOHOL FUELED VIOLENCE, STD’S AND MADNESS OF THE GOLD COAST, BRISBANE AND THE SUNNY COAST, THEN WELL, YOU MAY AS WELL BE CONSIDERED THE COUNTRYSIDE. MOST NTH STRADDIE LOCALS RETAIN A GENUINELY EASY- GOING OUTLOOK THAT CAN PROBABLY BE ATTRIBUTED TO THE LACK OF TRAFFIC AND CROWDS. ETHAN EWING IS ONE OF THOSE INHABITANTS. THE 16-YEAR-OLD OWNS A WARM UNPRETENTIOUS SMILE, A SINCERE DEMEANOUR AND A FUCKED UP FOREHAND HOOK, COURTESY OF REPEATEDLY BELTING WAVES ON POINT LOOKOUT’S RENOWNED BEACHBREAKS. IN 2015, THE KID HAS ALREADY…