ASL 213 - ALL About Shipsterns
Surfersvillage Global Surf News, 27 April, 2006 : - - Every once in a while, a swell comes along that is so talked about, so hyped by the media and so saturated into the surfing world that even your blind, 90 year old grandad is talking it up.
As the tents of the Quiksilver Pro were still being dismantled, one such swell drew itself into a tight ball and hurled itself head long at Tasmania, causing Shipsterns Bluff to go into overdrive. Andy Irons donned a steamer and got flicked into some bombs, Parko got possibly the worst flogging of his life and Laurie Towner paddled into a wave so abnormal in its proportions that it got him nominated for the Billabong XXL Awards.
From the three page, 18 frame intro to the two pull-out posters and literally from cover to cover, we bring you images that will have you frothing harder than Cujo and running for the toilet bowl. Oh yeah, there's a whole bunch of other damn fine material in there too. The party's coming to your door.
And Makes Four
There must have been something in the air. Possibly amped up by the World's elite gracing our shores, every surfer and his dawg hit any spot with the remotest inkling of a wave. Fortunately for a select few, their inspired choice of location was rewarded with cracking swells and some empty lineups. 'Connect Four' takes us the length of our eastern coastline, from the isolation of the Barrier Reef to the fun pits and puntable lips of Ulladulla.
Tweedle Dum, Tweedle Dee
Dane Reynolds is the 2006, ASL Peer Poll 'Next Big Thing.' Clay Marzo is winning every comp the other side of the Pacific. Both are getting talked up as heavily under-rated surfers with the mother load of potential. So why haven't we seen them blowing the ratings apart?
Are the two Statesiders afraid of the limelight, or are they just too damn "nice" to beat the sweet bejeezus out of anyone that comes up against them in competition? Under the scrutiny of Ryan Glen, a man with a penchant for thumb screws, the two unsuspecting Seppos spill their guts.
Maple Syrup And Meese
Okay, so what is the plural of 'moose?' When you're down at your local branch of Flight Centre, checking out possible destinations, it's pretty doubtful you'll ever reach for the brochures on Canada.
But one gloating reporter from the land of snow may well have the gear to make you reconsider. One empty lineup after another goes unridden all along the 250,000 km of the Canadian coastline and we offer you a tantalising glimpse at them.
Crack out the 7 mils and hoodies... For the exclusive, full interview with our very own mountie, Yassine, get into the Doubleup Section www.surfinglife.com.au/doubleup_canada.html right now
Valhalla is the Viking holiday spot of choice, post death that is. A mixed bag of our country's finest may well have stumbled across that haven of the Nordic gods in a recent trip to a little Pacific rock.
Darren O'Rafferty, Tom Innes, Dean Harrington, Adam Melling and Luke Dorrington check their pulses and test their reflexes, wondering if the grim reaper had snuck up on them overnight and taken them to the land of perfection. Empty kegs, numerous launchpads and water so clear you can't even see how clear it is. Certainly sounds like heaven to us.
Back O' The Boat
Andy Irons, Laurie Towner and Joel Parkinson. Stick that trio in two-foot shories and you'll get an epic session. But throw those boys on a boat and chug them out to one of the world's heaviest, most sphincter-softening breaks when it's almost maxing out and you'll end up with enough oh-my-god footage to fill a mag.
This is the footage that didn't hit every media release in Australia, and it's the mutt's nuts. ASL photographer, Stuart Gibson, donned fins and actually swam into that lineup, risking his life to bring us the very finest, most awe-inspiring shots from that aquatic anomaly known as Shipsterns.
The Lady In The Centre
Artists. They stink like hippies, never shave their pits and are usually splattered with paint. How wrong assumptions can make us. Our lovely poster girl is the direct opposite of any Van Gogh-loving stereotype you can possibly imagine.
There're no threadbare dungarees, no beret and not even the faintest waft of patchouli. When Celeste rocks up to her life drawing classes, you can see her fellow male students praying she's the model. She sure as hell stretches our canvas... I have no idea what that means, but you can get her on your desktop in our delightful Fox Gallery.
Burros & Burritos
With security tighter than Area 51, the exact location of the Rip Curl Pro Search, stop number five on the WCT tour, remains a mystery. But you have the chance to sample covert location first hand.
All you have to do is write a pretty little ditty about a surf trip you've been on and you and a buddy just may be winging you way, blindfolded and gagged of course, to the hidden break. There is a minor clause that comes with the prize though: should you disclose the location of the Rip Curl Search Pro, we will have to kill you, so ask yer mum's permission before entering.
The Enigma Of Curren
The mid-eighties were all about the two Toms: Carroll and Curren. The former went on to tow big waves, hit new-found locations and become a pioneering free-surfer. But Mr. Curren all but disappeared into obscurity. Locking himself up in Southern France, Tommy would pop back into the limelight on rare occasions and prove that he still had the exceptional form that has inspired so many.
Tom is interviewed exclusively for ASL, ironically by the brother of hie greatest rival, Nick Carroll, and reveals the true story on his semi-comeback, his competitive edge and what happened to one of the most influential surfers of all time.
Ocean & Earth have been wrapping our precious goods in padded sacks for years. They dumped a bunch of stuff on our doorstep for no good reason, but we're so buffed out we decided to give it all to you.
The apparel technicians have donated a hair containment unit, a board retainer, the very finest in polyurethane packaging and hefty sack, sturdy enough for 4.2kg of whatever you want, and then some. Tell us a holiday yarn and you may just find it dumped, unceremoniously, on your doorstep.
Whip ins are fun. On big waves, they're essential for early entry, speed and safety. On small waves, they give the perfect acceleration for boosting the fattest airs. But skis come at dollar value that is way out of reach for the average punter. Some innovative / insane UK citizens have found possibly the most stupid, yet ingenious solution to this costly problem. Its gotta be seen to be believed, but empty your bladder first, coz you'll be laughing your arse off.
The Quiksilver Pro had almost everything: shock defeats, big wins, the cream of surfing's elite and a whole bunch of hot honeys. The only thing missing was a decent swell. That said, contestants milked the available waves for all they were worth, busting fins out on every turn, boosting the foam and creating one hell of a show.
Free with ASL 213, is a DVD that wraps it all into a happy little bundle and presents it to you, bare to the bone. In depth interviews, behind the scenes footage, even following Taj and his lady to Sea World for shark feeding, make Quiksilver's complimentary DVD a keeper.
If you weren't there, you'll be able top see what you missed, if you were, you'll see those bits that only a VIP pass and a best pal in the top 44 will get you.
You can rip every leaf out of this issue and smother your walls with images of that off the hook Tassie session. You can leave the mag in your dunny and sit there 'til your legs go numb, marvelling at the plums of steel that those boys must have.
You can even stash it in your briefcase or school bag and impress your mates at coffee break or recess. But what are you going to do when you're sitting in front of your computer, trying desperately to concentrate when your mind's hand is tracing lines through the face of a wave?
You're going to get into our Eyedrops section www.surfinglife.com.au/fresh_iframe.html and download some of Stuey Gibson's bullshit images right onto your desktop. It's more PC than porn but just as sexy.
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