Innholdsfortegnelse for No. 562 i Tracks

No longer is anywhere on the planet safe from the envy-inducing reach of Instagram. I recently went on a trip where I was convinced my phone would be obsolete. The location was an isolated stretch of coast, deep in the subcontinent. I was looking forward to being completely free from the clog of emails, the relentless banter of Whatsapp groups and the F.O.M.O (Fear of missing out) spew of Instagram. The digital detox hit a serious curve ball when we arrived at our location. Apparently you could by a cheap SIM card that worked just dandy while you were drifting through a region where you’d hoped smoke signals and conch shells were the only viable means of communication. Determined to honour my vow of Vodafone abstinence, I held out and…

Retro surfboards are big business these days, especially if they are rare, or owned by a famous older surfer who had happened to ride it in some classic old surf movie. Big value! But what about if you were the older guy and you were lucky enough to come across one of your own boards from back in the day? A board you had achieved some of your best contest results on? The one you had ridden in some of the most perfect waves of your life at Padang Padang in Bali. The board you were riding when you met your wife down at your local beach 35 years ago. What would that be worth to you? To be able to put that thing back under your arm and under…

Filipe Toledo’s sinewy frame is folded over the balcony railing of a first floor apartment like a wet towel that has just had the life wrung out of it. It’s March 2013 at the Quiksilver Pro; Filipe’s first contest of his maiden year on tour and he’s just been bundled out by Taj Burrow in round three by little more than a point. He lifts his head as I walk by and those intense eyes speak of pure anguish, frustration and unrealised potential. It’s a highly visible Coolangatta corner block and anyone walking past would be struck by the emotional torture he’s putting himself through. It’s just a passing moment, but at the time I can’t help but think that someone who takes a loss that hard could be lethal…

To start with the “Now” part first, I was sitting at the window table of an Indian restaurant in inner Sydney recently, waiting for the editor of Tracks to join me, when I spied across the crowded road the unlikely sight of a man hurrying along the pavement with a phone in his ear and a surfboard tucked under his arm. Now in Manly or Cronulla maybe it wouldn’t have looked so surprising, but this was Crows Nest! And within a matter of seconds it got even weirder. The editor of Tracks came crashing through the door and proceeded to my table while almost decapitating other diners as he ripped the board bag off to reveal a yellowed beater of a thing from the early ‘70s, to judge from first…

//_CRAIG_ANDERSON_RESPONDEK_A99Q8776.JPG Throughout this magazine you’ll find a bunch of mind-bending imagery from one of the finest groundswells to strike the NSW coast in a very, very long time. Under its influence, the length of NSW’s 2137 kilometre coastline roared to life. The cleanliness of the lines, which some say were as manicured as the black nail polish on the fingers of Craig Anderson, combined with a gentle westerly zephyr to turn the key on even the most rare of spots. Ando and photographer John Respondek were making the most of the bounty on the South Coast, and had been bouncing between some of the better-known spots throughout the morning. Having had their fill, they headed for an off the map wave known for its unique and photogenic behaviour. Normally the…

“ The art of living is the art of leaving” — Garth Murphy, surfer, environmentalist  In my twenties I had an older friend who reveled in a kind of Dude-from-The-Big-Lebowski insouciance. He was a wake-and-baker, and took his first Jack Daniels and 7-Up at about 4 pm. He never missed a Lakers game. He laughed at those of us who tried hard. Perry liked to tell the story of his one and only job. In his late teens he worked as a boxboy at a supermarket in North Hollywood. His co-workers, most of them in their sixties, adored him. At lunch hour they sat on crates in the back of the store, eating sandwiches and playing cards. One day they were all gathering for lunch. “Per, shall we deal you…

It was mid week, around the 19th of July, when a menacing low pressure system set up shop off the coast of New Zealand in the southern, Tasman Sea. Once there it revved its engine, dropped the foot to the floor and began to spin like the rear tyre of a drag car. LLike thick rubber smoke, a southeast groundswell shot from the maelstrom, the majority of it aimed square at the New South Wales coastline. When it arrived on the weekend of the 22nd of July, it provided one of the most sublime days of winter surf in recent memory … The best ever according to some, including Newcastle’s Ryan Callinan, who rode the best waves his arms have ever stroked him into at home. For others it was…

Not too long ago I was in the water at The Pass in Byron Bay, hovering in the channel, watching unhappily as another surfer flew toward me on a set wave. This lump of swell seemed perfectly formed, a glimmering, emerald wall of water reeling steadily along the tapered sandbank, growing as it travelled the length of the point. As per usual, it was a bit of a circus out there, and I’d not had a wave for some time. Ah, how I wished to trade places with that surfer. So much so that I began to chant in my head, a kind of mantra: fall off, fall off, fall off. If I willed it enough, just like Roald Dahl’s Matilda, surely this guy would lose his footing. He didn’t…

From The Vault. The Ocean Dome Long before the Wave Park and the Kelly Slater Wave Pool were vying for status as the world’s premier man-made wave, the Ocean Dome in Miyazaki, Japan was generating pits at the Sheraton Seagaia Resort. Sadly, the ‘Dome’ last broke in 2007. Follow. EOS @encyclopedia_ of_surfing Listen - ‘Dying Majority’ by Mini Skirt. “I accept defeat as I stand at a urinal, next to a racist who follows the same team as I do, and sadly I’m the minority. It’s easier to pretend that I blend in, which is piss weak and fucking embarrassing ...” Potent shit from the Byron Bay Pub Punks. Behind The Cover. John Respondek We really have to say a special thanks to Craig Anderson for this cover shot. He…

Collecting vintage surfboards can be a serious business. Iconic boards sell for thousands and the competition among bidders can be intense. Some cashed up collectors want them as wall trophies and conversation pieces for their beachside weekenders. Others think of them as mainly financial investments and trawl garage sales, council pick-ups and op shops looking for a tidy profit. Which is why original handshapes by big name shapers are increasingly difficult to find. Most have already been snapped up. Then there’s Sydney’s Damion Fuller whose passion is for riding old foam, learning from it and sharing the knowledge. Fuller runs the Board Collector blog whose motto is: buy high, sell low, enjoy the ride. Fuller is focused on boards shaped between 1975-1985, known as the innovation period. Forget sawn off…

“Enjoy yourself. It’s later than you think.” - Chinese proverb  Last November I found myself inside an ornate temple in regional Taitung, on Taiwan’s east coast. Head bowed, hands clasped, I sought a direct line with the gods. New to Taiwan, new to temples, new to prayer, I only hoped I wasn’t setting back my cause. Specifically, I was angling for a thumping big typhoon to send overhead waves and offshores howling in my direction. It was an appeal that probably ran contrary to the wishes of the local fishing and insurance industries but I was willing to give it a go. Everyone I’d met so far in Taiwan had been very accommodating and the temple was devoted to the Goddess of the Sea. I figured if anyone could rustle…