Filmed: Jamie Hancock / Rebecca Ashton
Edit: Jamie Hancock
Artist: Ryan Taubert
Track: Written for us
Via jamie hancock
The post THE END OF AUTUMN – NITON appeared first on Windsurf Magazine.
Words KEVIN PRITCHARD // Photos JIMMIE HEPP
I hope this will inspire you to try the move. I am still learning, believing and spinning and you can too! Enjoy.
“spin it to win it”
The post KEVIN PRITCHARD – AIR TAKA HOW TO appeared first on Windsurf Magazine.
The post TEST THE BEST – TRY BEFORE YOU BUY! appeared first on Windsurf Magazine.
Words Kevin Pritchard // Photos Mark Wengler
Operation Viking
I looked at forecast charts every day of summer and autumn 2014, and I could not see a long stretch of windy days. When winter 2014 rolled around and the wind picked up, I told myself “too cold.” My Denmark connection Mark Wengler sent weekly weather updates. Some good, but none perfect. Denmark is cold from winter through to spring. Every forecast was accompanied by a drop in temperature that I thought I could not handle. As summer returned, I said to myself, “Ok, let’s get this project rolling.” But summer is high tourist season in Denmark and my local connections were all busy. Not to mention that I was competing full-time on the AWT. Then summer ended. Autumn 2015 came and went, but I still hadn’t returned to Denmark.
With the Aloha Classic ended and my commitments for the year finished, WindGuru lit up with an epic storm hitting the North Danish coast. One problem: December is winter and winter is cold in Denmark. Living on Maui with year-round 25 degrees Celsius, I am not accustomed to seasons or winter cold. A little naive, I decided to book the trip. “Sure it will be cold, but I am a man, and I can handle the cold” is what I told myself. Oh you little Maui boy…if you only knew the truth.
I um-ed and ah-ed and finally booked my flight with just 8 hours until departure. Stoked with joy to be going back to one of my favourite places, I headed down to Ho’okipa to ride some last-minute waves. The waves were big, and the wind was strong; and in the back of my mind I doubted my decision to leave the paradise of Maui. But with that reasoning, I would never leave Maui. Time to break the monotony. And so the journey began. Maui to San Francisco, San Francisco to Washington DC, DC to Frankfurt, Frankfurt to Aallborg. 8,670 miles flown. I planned to arrive at 12:30pm, pick up the rental car, and meet my friend Lars at the beach at 2:30 to go sailing. Reality hit as soon I landed in Aallborg. Reality was a 50 knot gust of frozen rain into my face. And even at 12:30 the sun was nearly set. What had I got myself into?
Cold Hawaii?
They call this region “Cold Hawaii”, but at that moment I only saw Cold, not Hawaii. On the way to the beach, I could not see 10 feet in front of me. Rain flew sideways against the car. Even with the heater on full blast, the cold hit my bones. My courage dwindled towards fear. “I have to go windsurfing in this???” At the beach, the local windsurfers were just finishing a session still covered in booties, gloves, and hoodies. It all looked miserable to me. But when I looked closer, I saw that the stoke warmed their faces. This was the same stoke that drives me everyday I get on the water. Except, unlike me, these guys are hardcore. Without a doubt, windsurfing on the North Sea in December for fun is hard core.
A group of about 6 guys live in north Denmark for the wintertime wind and swell. And believe it or not, they actually enjoy windsurfing in the cold. Lars Petersen is one of these long-time locals. I knew him back in the PWA days, and we reunited for this trip. He eats, breaths, and sleeps Danish windsurfing. He greeted me with a smile and a very cold handshake. My mind was still saying, “oh sh*t I am not sure I can handle this”. I had arrived too late to score a session on that first day, which was already becoming night at 3pm. I felt lucky, like I had just dodged a bullet by not having to go out but hoped that the storm would last for a few more days of conditions.
The house shook all night. My nerves were high, my jet lag was high, and my fear was high. The next day started with an 8:30 am cup of coffee with Lars. Oh, I should mention that the sun did not rise until 9:30. Full of coffee and some Danish pastries, I was fired up for windsurfing. The house shook in the wind, and I took that as a good sign for the day.
At the beach, the ocean was empty of people but full of waves and wind. Mast high swells pumped, and side-offshore wind blew the white of the waves into the air. I rigged and dressed in my 6mm wetsuit, booties, gloves and a hoodie. As I put my board in the water, I thought “this is not so bad, I am actually warm”. But once sailing, the cold rain pelted my face, and with the thick rubber gloves my hands could not grip the boom and my forearms swelled. Soon I lost my balance and found myself swimming in the cold, dark North Sea. “You’re not in Maui anymore!” The frigid water crept down my spine, and my body hunched in on itself, trying to survive the cold. “Relax, breathe, get back on the board and get past the waves” I told myself. Gusting to 40 knots with patches of wind around 5 knots, I needed all my energy just to sail straight. Ho’okipa has a channel where no waves break that we use to get to the outside. Cold Hawaii showed me no channel, just walls of white-water. I had yet to see a resemblance to my paradise home. Once on the outside, my arms were pumped up and exhausted as if I had just sailed for 3 hours without a harness. Breathe breathe breathe became pant pant pant. I gybed onto a massive wave, and I could not believe how foreign my gear felt. I rigged everything the same as the day before on Maui, but the weight and stiffness of the extra rubber made every action different. I spun out every time a gust hit, thrown sideways with no control in the cold. Valhalla
I charged down the line of that first wave, dropped in, and remembered the reason I love windsurfing. The same gusty offshore winds that made getting out so difficult were now glassing off the wave, smoothing it into perfect butter. Down the line I went, getting five or six turns and a finishing aerial. Thirty two hours of travel later and one wave took all the pain away. I started to feel my arms again and I got comfortable in the 6mm of rubber covering my body, finding a new balance. Lars and I traded off waves till the sun set. Arms dead, body warm, ready for a nice shower, and alive!
The next day I saw the sun for the first time of the trip. The northern latitude sun in winter is nothing like the Hawaiian sun I know back home. When not hiding behind clouds, this Danish sun sits low, moving across the horizon and never going over head. For photography, this means perfect golden light all day long. The wind took a nap that day, so we gathered the landscape and lifestyle shots that we needed for our video. I finally warmed up and felt like a Viking. This golden light, I realized, is why I dreamt about coming back to Denmark for the last 5 years. What beauty! Hills roll into grassy bowls, and the painted boats sit watching the sea rise into waves. Most of all I was struck by the people’s kindness and readiness to share their spots with the lonely tourist that I am. When the sun went back into hiding behind clouds again the next days, their bright smiles illuminated the land for me. I was surprised by the openness of the locals who shared a certain secret spot when the wind came up for just 45 minutes. That would never happen in Hot Hawaii. I felt more Aloha in this beautiful part of Denmark than at home in Hawaii.
The next few days saw unreal sailing conditions. The sun shone sometimes, and the air stayed brisk. I gradually met my inner Viking: the gloves came off, and I saved the hoodie for when I was swimming. As I got to know the area better, I could see the origin of the name “Cold Hawaii.” Lots of waves, beautiful landscapes and seascapes, and a serene rawness not found in many places on the planet. As the sun sunk on my final day, I felt a magic attached to the people and the place. There is something awesome in the state of Denmark!
The post WINTER’S TALE – THE VIKING TALE appeared first on Windsurf Magazine.
Here is the official brand video of the 2017 collection.
Gaastra / Tabou 2017 Collection from Gaastra on Vimeo.
The post GAASTRA / TABOU 2017 COLLECTION appeared first on Windsurf Magazine.
The official product video for the 2017 Tabou Pocket real world wave board.
Via Tabou Boards
The post TABOU BOARDS – 2017 POCKET appeared first on Windsurf Magazine.
Carving is the milk and honey of board sports. A good carve feels amazing and looks good too – a combination of power and flow. To carve a cutback, surfers guide the board with their arms. The surfer’s method does not work on a windsurfer since we have a boom in our hands, so a bit of extra technique helps! Also, on a windsurfer the wind pulls us laterally, counteracting the centripetal force needed to keep the board carving in an arc. If you remember only one thing: push the board below and around you, as your body pivots in place.
The post GRAHAM EZZY – HOW TO: CARVING CUTBACK appeared first on Windsurf Magazine.
Words Kevin Pritchard // Photos Mark Wengler
Operation Viking
I looked at forecast charts every day of summer and autumn 2014, and I could not see a long stretch of windy days. When winter 2014 rolled around and the wind picked up, I told myself “too cold.” My Denmark connection Mark Wengler sent weekly weather updates. Some good, but none perfect. Denmark is cold from winter through to spring. Every forecast was accompanied by a drop in temperature that I thought I could not handle. As summer returned, I said to myself, “Ok, let’s get this project rolling.” But summer is high tourist season in Denmark and my local connections were all busy. Not to mention that I was competing full-time on the AWT. Then summer ended. Autumn 2015 came and went, but I still hadn’t returned to Denmark.
With the Aloha Classic ended and my commitments for the year finished, WindGuru lit up with an epic storm hitting the North Danish coast. One problem: December is winter and winter is cold in Denmark. Living on Maui with year-round 25 degrees Celsius, I am not accustomed to seasons or winter cold. A little naive, I decided to book the trip. “Sure it will be cold, but I am a man, and I can handle the cold” is what I told myself. Oh you little Maui boy…if you only knew the truth.
I um-ed and ah-ed and finally booked my flight with just 8 hours until departure. Stoked with joy to be going back to one of my favourite places, I headed down to Ho’okipa to ride some last-minute waves. The waves were big, and the wind was strong; and in the back of my mind I doubted my decision to leave the paradise of Maui. But with that reasoning, I would never leave Maui. Time to break the monotony. And so the journey began. Maui to San Francisco, San Francisco to Washington DC, DC to Frankfurt, Frankfurt to Aallborg. 8,670 miles flown. I planned to arrive at 12:30pm, pick up the rental car, and meet my friend Lars at the beach at 2:30 to go sailing. Reality hit as soon I landed in Aallborg. Reality was a 50 knot gust of frozen rain into my face. And even at 12:30 the sun was nearly set. What had I got myself into?
Cold Hawaii?
They call this region “Cold Hawaii”, but at that moment I only saw Cold, not Hawaii. On the way to the beach, I could not see 10 feet in front of me. Rain flew sideways against the car. Even with the heater on full blast, the cold hit my bones. My courage dwindled towards fear. “I have to go windsurfing in this???” At the beach, the local windsurfers were just finishing a session still covered in booties, gloves, and hoodies. It all looked miserable to me. But when I looked closer, I saw that the stoke warmed their faces. This was the same stoke that drives me everyday I get on the water. Except, unlike me, these guys are hardcore. Without a doubt, windsurfing on the North Sea in December for fun is hard core.
A group of about 6 guys live in north Denmark for the wintertime wind and swell. And believe it or not, they actually enjoy windsurfing in the cold. Lars Petersen is one of these long-time locals. I knew him back in the PWA days, and we reunited for this trip. He eats, breaths, and sleeps Danish windsurfing. He greeted me with a smile and a very cold handshake. My mind was still saying, “oh sh*t I am not sure I can handle this”. I had arrived too late to score a session on that first day, which was already becoming night at 3pm. I felt lucky, like I had just dodged a bullet by not having to go out but hoped that the storm would last for a few more days of conditions.
The house shook all night. My nerves were high, my jet lag was high, and my fear was high. The next day started with an 8:30 am cup of coffee with Lars. Oh, I should mention that the sun did not rise until 9:30. Full of coffee and some Danish pastries, I was fired up for windsurfing. The house shook in the wind, and I took that as a good sign for the day.
At the beach, the ocean was empty of people but full of waves and wind. Mast high swells pumped, and side-offshore wind blew the white of the waves into the air. I rigged and dressed in my 6mm wetsuit, booties, gloves and a hoodie. As I put my board in the water, I thought “this is not so bad, I am actually warm”. But once sailing, the cold rain pelted my face, and with the thick rubber gloves my hands could not grip the boom and my forearms swelled. Soon I lost my balance and found myself swimming in the cold, dark North Sea. “You’re not in Maui anymore!” The frigid water crept down my spine, and my body hunched in on itself, trying to survive the cold. “Relax, breathe, get back on the board and get past the waves” I told myself. Gusting to 40 knots with patches of wind around 5 knots, I needed all my energy just to sail straight. Ho’okipa has a channel where no waves break that we use to get to the outside. Cold Hawaii showed me no channel, just walls of white-water. I had yet to see a resemblance to my paradise home. Once on the outside, my arms were pumped up and exhausted as if I had just sailed for 3 hours without a harness. Breathe breathe breathe became pant pant pant. I gybed onto a massive wave, and I could not believe how foreign my gear felt. I rigged everything the same as the day before on Maui, but the weight and stiffness of the extra rubber made every action different. I spun out every time a gust hit, thrown sideways with no control in the cold. Valhalla
I charged down the line of that first wave, dropped in, and remembered the reason I love windsurfing. The same gusty offshore winds that made getting out so difficult were now glassing off the wave, smoothing it into perfect butter. Down the line I went, getting five or six turns and a finishing aerial. Thirty two hours of travel later and one wave took all the pain away. I started to feel my arms again and I got comfortable in the 6mm of rubber covering my body, finding a new balance. Lars and I traded off waves till the sun set. Arms dead, body warm, ready for a nice shower, and alive!
The next day I saw the sun for the first time of the trip. The northern latitude sun in winter is nothing like the Hawaiian sun I know back home. When not hiding behind clouds, this Danish sun sits low, moving across the horizon and never going over head. For photography, this means perfect golden light all day long. The wind took a nap that day, so we gathered the landscape and lifestyle shots that we needed for our video. I finally warmed up and felt like a Viking. This golden light, I realized, is why I dreamt about coming back to Denmark for the last 5 years. What beauty! Hills roll into grassy bowls, and the painted boats sit watching the sea rise into waves. Most of all I was struck by the people’s kindness and readiness to share their spots with the lonely tourist that I am. When the sun went back into hiding behind clouds again the next days, their bright smiles illuminated the land for me. I was surprised by the openness of the locals who shared a certain secret spot when the wind came up for just 45 minutes. That would never happen in Hot Hawaii. I felt more Aloha in this beautiful part of Denmark than at home in Hawaii.
The next few days saw unreal sailing conditions. The sun shone sometimes, and the air stayed brisk. I gradually met my inner Viking: the gloves came off, and I saved the hoodie for when I was swimming. As I got to know the area better, I could see the origin of the name “Cold Hawaii.” Lots of waves, beautiful landscapes and seascapes, and a serene rawness not found in many places on the planet. As the sun sunk on my final day, I felt a magic attached to the people and the place. There is something awesome in the state of Denmark!
The post WINTER’S TALE – THE VIKING TALE appeared first on Windsurf Magazine.
Originally published within the August ’16 edition.
Using a testing partner is the optimum way to find your fastest racing combinations. Taking turns to change one piece of equipment, you and your partner line up together on the water with enough distances between you so that you both have clean wind, but close enough to tell if there is a difference in your respective speeds, commonly referred to as the “buddy system”. It’s a method most pros use and it works well as long as there is trust between‘buddies’ and you’re sure your mate isn’t going to sandbag you (sail slowly intentionally). I also use GPS as a reference to double check what I am feeling in the equipment and how my speed is against my mate on the water. Not that I don’t trust my testing partners, but more often than not I don’t have someone to go sailing with and time can be precious, so I will also use GPS to sail with when alone and this can be a much quicker way to work through a large amount of combinations in one session.
After a heated debate of what one windsurfing set consists of, while the rest of the plane had boarded, we finally reached an agreement that if I paid a further $325 then they would allow me to travel. I accepted. It can be the most stressful part of a trip when you are checking in with an airline and you’re not 100% sure of the rules with the excess baggage. My advice is to always phone up the airline first and explain what you are travelling with and see if they can make a price for you in advance so that when you turn up to the airport there can be no nasty surprises.
By the middle of the week we just about finished the first elimination in very tricky conditions. My semi-final was run at least four times before it was decided who would advance through to the final. I was lucky enough to make it, so now I had a shot to take the first bullet of the season. In the final I was able to finish in 3rd, which was great, and I was feeling confident with my equipment. The forecast for the rest of the week looked bad apart from a small chance of wind on the last day; back from a more normal direction but with a lot of rain.
In past years, wind with rain meant no wind, fingers crossed! Nothing is 100% sure till it’s over so I always keep focused until the final horn is blown.
The post ROSS WILLIAMS – OPERATION PREPARATION appeared first on Windsurf Magazine.
Originally published within the September ’16 edition.
In Korea I tell Matteo Iachino, who’s quickly becoming one of my good friends due to a shared passion for silly jokes, “If I always pass the first round I should finish top 30, right?” Well… wrong. I finish 36th, a harsh reality check. First lesson of racing: don’t ever calculate, just race. That’s what I do in Costa Brava and finish 14th. I feel on top of the world. Everyone patting my back, the windsurf media wanting interviews and videos, enjoying my first PWA prize money, peers giving me the first bits of respect, industry starting to slowly notice the too small competitor from a too small market. “Let’s see how he does in Fuerte”, they’re thinking. The answer? Crap. Back to the drawing board.
No more girlfriend (“how can I be with someone who’s never here?”) and no more university (“how can we pay a scholarship to someone who’s never here?”). No more getting excited about 14th places. I was sitting at the gate with Josh Angulo once and he told me: “As a slalom sailor all you have to do is be top 4 every heat”. And that’s pretty much been my motto ever since. Some guys love winning first round heats even risking everything to get from 2nd to 1st. And a lot of the fans were more excited when I won a first round heat in front of Antoine in New Caledonia then when I got 7th overall in Sylt, which to me is absolutely ridiculous. I’ve even been branded “The Worm” by Finian due to sliding through heats Kevin Pritchard style. Offence to some, but an honour if you ask me. No more hanging out for no reason. I realized that hanging around and talking to people during the contest actually takes a lot of the energy and focus away. Sounds like a veteran? Well, not really. That hasn’t changed at all. I still feel as young and as fresh as in my teens. I still learn every day, the hard way a lot of the time. Like every year when negotiating contracts for example. Every year it’s different and every year, new circumstances come up. It starts the same with all the brand/team managers coming to Sylt for the PWA contest in October and sitting down with all their present and possibly future riders. From there they chase the biggest fish, the top 3, top 5 riders in each discipline. Then they move onto guys like me, which means between the nice chat you had in Sylt to the actual agreement, can be a 2-month gap sometimes. 2 months of not knowing what gear you’ll be riding next year, when you are going to get it and what your future is going to look like in general. The first year this happens you panic, as if the silence or the stalling means you’re not going to get picked up by anyone. Then you sort of get used to it and then start to use that time to improve as a windsurfer and as an athlete, which definitely won’t harm your negotiations. You can’t control everything, but control what you can control. This year I signed with GA/Tabou in December, after 4 years on Patrik and 3 on Point-7. As much as you would love to be loyal and be on the same brands forever, Ross Williams style, you learn that windsurfing is a business and you just have to approach every situation with an open mind, just looking at it as the way it unfolds.
So yes, the road to the top is long and winding. And yes, I believe, actually I’m pretty confident I can make it all the way. But if for some reason I don’t I’ll be ready to take on any new challenges in life. Only because of windsurfing and how much it’s given me. And I’m still “only” 24. So thank you windsurfing. You’re the best!”
“ When it comes to money, hope for the best, prepare for the worst ”
The post MACIEK RUTKOWSKI – ROAD TO THE TOP appeared first on Windsurf Magazine.
Gaastra and Tabou introduce the UK freestyler, Nic Hibdige, to the international windsurfing team!
instagram.com/gaastra_tabou_international
tabou-boards.com
gaastra.com
Via Gaastra
The post INTRODUCING – NIC HIBDIGE appeared first on Windsurf Magazine.
The official product video for the 2017 Tabou Pocket real world wave board.
Via Tabou Boards
The post TABOU BOARDS – 2017 POCKET appeared first on Windsurf Magazine.
Originally published within the October ’16 edition.
The fact there was a swell forecast was not in question. Windguru was giving around 2.3m at 14 seconds, which in my books normally means a pretty solid day at Ho’okipa. I drove up the Hana Highway first thing to check and at 7am there were absolutely zero waves rolling in on any of the reefs from Mama’s all the way up to Ho’okipa. With that in mind we made the decision to head down to Sprecks in the morning to finish off some urgently needed race and freeride shots before reconvening at Ho’okipa at three to catch the premium session on the rising swell.
By noon, I was kind of regretting the earlier call to spend the morning down the coast since during the course of a matter of hours the swell had kicked in and was already mast high and grinding. A quick chat with Thomas Traversa confirmed that the early session as the swell kicked in was all time with just a couple of guys out and the perfect size for water shots. By 1pm some of the sets were already closing across the channel next to the rocks and the likes of Jason Polakow, Robby Swift, Levi Siver, Brawzinho, Timo Mullen and Robby Naish were all out charging giant sets. This was probably the best wave day of the trip so far and we had spent the whole morning shooting hand drags and chop hops at Sprecks, doh!
Right at that moment Jason Polakow walked past and I shouted over to him ‘Hey ‘Pozza’ is that big enough for Jaws?’ He was obviously busy changing boards in the midst of the JP shoot but hollered back ‘Err yeah could be a couple of small ones sneaking in up there’. One thing I did not want to do at this stage was blow the whole day on a wild goose chase up to Jaws and with no jet ski or rescue cover in place, we could easily waste a few hours going up to check without any plan on how anybody would launch or be able to sail it. A few minutes later Timo came in off the water and when I mentioned that we might be heading up to the ‘Big J’, his eyes lit up as he rushed off to derig shouting ‘Don’t leave without me, whatever you do!’ I know sailing Jaws has been on Timo’s bucket list for a few years and maybe this was his one shot and there was no way he was going to miss out.
By this time, there was no stopping Thomas, his mind was set and by the time the rest of the crew rolled up for the 3pm meeting I was feeling the pressure that this day was going to be a write off. Ross was shaking his head with an obvious look of disapproval when he heard of the possible Jaws check, while Graham Ezzy seemed open to the idea but wanted to launch from the lighthouse and sail up, which apparently would require a 4 wheel drive which none of us had! Cut a long story short, and thirty minutes later the whole GA team, plus Timo were up on the cliffs overlooking Jaws desperately trying to fathom how big the sets down below actually were. We were alone on the hill. Not one other surfer, windsurfer or tourist had come up to even check it.
Most of the waves seemed to be barely breaking but Thomas reckoned he had seen one bigger set just before we arrived. With only a few hours of light remaining the clock was ticking but Thomas seemed totally relaxed and happy to just sit tight and wait. Another twenty minutes passed before a slightly bigger set reared up and then kind of faded. This certainly wasn’t the kind of day that would break big wave records but for the likes of Timo, Aleix and Cederic Bordes it was probably the perfect day to pop their Jaws cherry and tick it off the list!
By 3.45pm Traversa had lead the way and jumped off the boulders while the others nervously watched his fate. He just crept out through the surging waves without getting pounded. Within two or three minutes he was already out to the line-up and setting himself up for his first wave. Last time I saw Thomas sail at Jaws he was incredibly impressive and by the looks of the way he approached his first ride, today he was not going to mess about either, charging deep from behind the peak with no fear whatsoever. With Tommy T belting a solid mast and a half Pe’ahi special straight off the bat, the others were left with no choice but to follow suit. After witnessing the first wave of Thomas, Graham Ezzy had to rush back up to grab his gear, there was no way he was going to miss out on the session no matter what risks they were taking.
Graham was slightly annoyed because it was the first time he had sailed Pe’ahi without hitting the lip but at the same time he reckoned it was easily the cleanest he has ever sailed there and he still scored a few memorable bombs. Timo was ecstatic, I knew sailing Jaws was one of his windsurfing ambitions but to score that one particular wave that caverned over in his wake was even more of a special bonus. Thomas was happy to be reunited with his wife and daughter at Ho’okipa and was definitely buzzing after charging a couple of those massive lips. I’ve seen a few top quality sailors riding Jaws in my time but Traversa somehow is in a league of his own and almost treats it like sailing a logo high beach break rather than a triple mast high ‘life or death’ threatening monster. I felt a bit sorry for Ross who was unable to sail because of an injured ankle but it was still cool to see he was genuinely stoked for his teammates after they had scored Jaws, especially during the GA/Tabou photo shoot. Needless to say, we happily sat around at Ho’okipa until most of the beers were polished off, but after scoring waves like that who could really blame us!
After 20 minutes of waiting while holding his rigged windsurfer, Thomas Traversa scrambled like a crab across the rocks towards the ocean and swam holding on to his back footstrap to drag his equipment with him – the windline sat forty metres off the shore. The shorebreak paused for only 20 seconds, barely giving Thomas enough time to reach safety before the waves returned. Aleix Sanllehy attempted launching after Thomas. He mistimed and a man-high white water climbed over him and pushed him back and beneath his sail. He tried to stand but his foot was stuck between boulders and the weight of the sea pressed against the surface area of his sail. I turned away because I did not want to see his leg break. I climbed back up the cliff to my pickup truck.
Maybe my recollection sounds melodramatic, but you must understand that this is the scale of Jaws. Everything is bigger and more powerful – the consequences more dire, more real.
On Maui, tourists are always doing stupid shit and dying. The rules of engagement don’t always make sense to outsiders. Currents can’t be seen, and certain tourists think it ridiculous that they would be unable to swim back to shore. Yet, an Olympic swimmer drowned on Maui while swimming against a current. Same with flash floods. It rains on Maui more than almost anywhere else in the world, and that water can come rushing down dry river beds and carry people and cars into rocks and off cliffs and into the sea. “It looks fine. I can handle a little flooding,” is a common reaction to the “Flash Flooding Warning” signposts on the trailheads after a heavy rain. And despite my current morbidity, most of these tourists don’t actually die. They hike, the flood never comes, and life goes on. But when the floods do flash, the water knocks over their Jeep Wranglers and they drown. Those who live are just lucky. The survivors are not brave, just ignorant of the danger.
The whole problem is that most of the time, nothing happens. But when something does happen, the consequences can be catastrophic. The local rules are heuristics passed down from generation to generation – a collective wisdom. One of these rules is that locals don’t launch off the rocks at Jaws. I’m not sure why. It’s just something we don’t do. I have sailed Jaws more times than I can count, but until that day, I’d never launched off the rocks at the base of the Pe’ahi cliff. I guess the shorebreak is too powerful and the current too strong. Luck becomes too big of a factor. Locals go to Jaws with boats or jet skis. Or, we launch elsewhere – Ho’okipa, Maliko, the Lighthouse. I have a favourite spot to launch, just to the right of the rocks at the Haiku Lighthouse where Robby Naish famously launched in the movie RIP (see YouTube). But ever since the timing chain blew on my Land Rover, I’ve been without a vehicle capable of making the off-road drive through the pineapple fields to the Lighthouse. I grew up swimming off the north shore cliffs. On winter nights, the thunder of Jaws could be heard from my crib. I’ve had to swim in from Jaws after crashing and breaking my gear. And yet, I was scared to go off the rocks – I was more scared to go off the rocks than to sail Jaws. And I was scared for these tourists who were also my friends.
Jaws is easy, which makes it dangerous. Most places, when the waves are big, the ocean becomes survival-at-sea – the currents become freight trains, the channels disappear, the waves close out into a single explosive line of erupting white water. Once the waves at Ho’okipa go above 6 metres, the best windsurfers in the world struggle to make it out past the breaking waves. In contrast, even when the waves are bigger than a building, on either side of the wave at Jaws is a channel as calm as a swimming pool. Everything is easy, unless something goes wrong. The waves were not massive when Polakow was held under the water at Jaws for over a minute – while he was wearing a flotation vest.
After I launched and had caught a few waves myself, I saw Aleksy crash a crash that could have killed him. As I sailed back out in the channel, he rode towards the shore on a wave small for that day but huge anywhere else (over 6 metres). He was too deep, too far behind the peak of the wave. That day was windy and the wave was not too large, and Aleksy could have used the power of the wind to speed in front of and around the breaking wave into the safety of the channel. To my surprise, he instead went upwind and further into the no-man’s land. As he slowly turned more and more into the wind, my surprise turned to leaden dread – a wipeout was unavoidable. The wave rolled past me and began to break, and Aleksy went out of my view, still heading upwind, heading to nowhere but a wipeout. Worried, I kept watching. Eventually, Aleksy and his pink sail popped out of the whitewater wake of the wave – separated by a distance of 50 metres or more. The next waves pushed Aleksy’s rig onto the rocks at the base of the cliff. I knew Aleksy was still in the water, somewhere to the left of where the wave breaks from the perspective of a surfer in the water looking back at the land. I wanted to help Aleksy, but he was too far inside and too far upwind to reach with a windsurfer. I could have sailed upwind until where the wind died and then swam to where I thought Aleksy to be, but I would have been impotent to offer any real assistance. I would have just been there to keep him company, an act of solidarity, rather than a rescue. Half of the Tabou crew were stood on the Jaws rocks, but they too would be unable to help Aleksy – any attempt at rescue would be futile. With no jet skis or boats, he was on his own.
There was nothing I could do – nothing anyone could do – to help Aleksy. Maybe he was already dead or broken or scared to death trying to find a way to put land under his feet. So I continued my session.
The next day, with the euphoria faded and fallen into an endorphin hangover, I was disappointed that I had not been more aggressive and hit the lip for a big aerial. Everyone talks about the ego-stoke of individual-centred action sports like windsurfing, but no one mentions the ego-drain, the ego-suffocate, the ego-shame that is the inevitable yin to the yang. I’m not religious, but riding Jaws comes close to being a religious experience. Riding a Jaws wave is to be part of something so much more powerful than yourself, you become insignificant. But at the same time, in riding the wave, you become part of the wave, part of a force so inhumanely powerful. The self disappears in the power of the wave and becomes the wave at the same time – but only for an instant. And then life goes back to normal until the next set wave, which is what we are still looking for. Just one more. Just one more.
“ Riding a Jaws wave is to be part of something so much more powerful than yourself, you become insignificant ”
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In April 2016 I was in Maui filming the 2017 GA / Tabou photoshoot with all the team. We had an amazing week of windsurfing conditions which included a solo session at Jaws. We hadn’t really planned to go there earlier in the day and had started the day shooting freeride at Sprecks beach. By the afternoon Hookipa looked massive so we took the gamble to check Jaws, one that definitely paid off. My problem was that my tripod wasn’t packed into the car at Sprecks, so for the first time in history I had forgotten my tripod and it was the time we were about to score a session at Jaws… Not good. But to make the best of a bad situation I positioned my camera on a rock and left it running and took to the sky with the drone. The launch / landing site was under some trees and a very small area for any take off and landing. The spray from the waves was impossible to see at 400 metres away but in the end the footage was great and gave a very cool view of the guys catching a few bombs. I have a huge respect for the guys going out that day. Thomas was going nuts and even 21 year old, Aleksy Gayda, wiped out unassisted and dealt with a pretty bad situation amazing well. Not bad for a kid from Essex..
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New stylish edit from Jamie Hancock with Graham Ezzy in Portugal.
Guincho from jamie hancock on Vimeo.
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Another slick edit from Jamie Hancock. This time in Irealnd with Timo Mullen. Enjoy..
Ireland from jamie hancock on Vimeo.
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The island nation of Madagascar, off the southeast coast of Africa, was first pioneered for windsurfing in the 90s, when French lensman, adventurer and windsurfer Gilles Calvet travelled to its remote shores and found a break that inspired a lust to return. After more than two decades, Leon Jamaer and Thomas Traversa accompanied him on a trip back to discover that the passage of time has not made the journey any easier but set against our modern world of convenience, choice and comfort, the harsh reality of life in Madagascar forges an interesting and inspiring perspective.
I get a call from a photographer whom I met during a contest in La Reunion a few years ago. My memories of Gilles Calvet, the insurgent who prefers to sail himself instead of taking pictures, are still bright and clear. He says he is planning a trip to Madagascar to rediscover a wave that he found many years ago and asks if I would be interested to come along. By instinct, I ask about the travel and get “long and difficult” in reply. My mind starts spinning and I overhear the gnashing of teeth on the other side of the line.
At 30,000 feet we draw near to the equator. Thomas Traversa, next to me, is already asleep. I close my eyes and leave all negative thoughts behind. I try to grasp my excitement for this trip, which has been growing stronger and stronger in the last week, and then I fall asleep too. The next morning we arrive in Madagascar´s capital, Antananarivo, and take another plane to Fort Dauphin. From there we travel on land. From my German point of view our movements seem rather unorganized and improvised.
I am not sure if group leader Gilles doesn´t want to share his exact plans with us or whether he simply doesn´t have any. However, I am happy when we arrive at a campsite by nightfall. We are still far from our final destination and I am already overwhelmed by Madagascar. I saw people in their villages and huts, on the fields or, mostly it seemed, somewhere on the road. They travel, trade and transport goods, children play and many wave at us when we drive by. Some are smiling, some wear heavy expressions that must resemble their daily life I assume. With an average speed of 25 km/h we move south through vegetation that becomes more and more hostile, people and cattle appear thin and starved.
We cross a dry riverbed. Women dig for the last bits of water to wash their clothes. I realize my first world problems must be far away from the people here who actually have real struggles. Lavanono is a small village with a church, school, shop and lots of simple huts where a few hundred, mostly fishermen, live. The tribe is called Antandroy and gather in the main on the beach and centre their life around the sea. They seem to accept us and are happy to share the ocean. Every morning the fishermen swarm out with their tiny canoes while we play in the beautiful waves. They need the sea to feed their families whereas we use it for pure pleasure. Even though our motives are so vastly different, the people seem to like the commitment that we put into our outlandish looking activity called windsurfing. Some try to resemble us in our athletic doings, either on surfboards that were left behind, planks or whatever else was found and stays afloat. The atmosphere in Lavanono is warm and welcoming despite Madagascar´s in general difficult socio-cultural situation.
We arrive in Fort Dauphin and check in for our flights to Paris. I notice I am full of inspiration for future trips and simply happy that I came on this trip and experienced those strange but beautiful weeks in a different world and have quickly forgotten about the bumpy road that brought me there. Special thanks to our partners for this great trip – Jean from Info Tourisme, Nico from Babaomby lodge, Gigi from Lavanono lodge and Benedicte from Beranthy lodge.
“ Every morning the fishermen swarm out with their tiny canoes while we play in the beautiful waves. ”
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THE LOW-DOWN
The 97 is the largest sibling in the new compact Pocket range, designed for fast turning in onshore and side shore conditions. We tried the 87L version in last month’s compact wave board test and were really taken by its ease, speed and turning potential, so we started this test with high hopes for this 97. Taking a closer look at its design, it is very chunky, trying to cram volume into its short 218cm length. Possessing the same deep-channelled, double-diamond and wingered tail design as the 87, it has a particularly wide 1ft off tail width measurement, due to the wingers starting early. The stance is moved back on the board, the double-plugged back strap right over the fin, whilst the contoured dual density pads provide excellent traction. It’s an eye-catching design with its domed deck and a familiar pointed nose shape giving way to such a complex design in the tail. And as the only ‘compact’ design in the group, some 11cm shorter than the longest here, it would be interesting to see how it faired…
BRAND CLAIM
“We tested every kind of nose and tail shape, and the new Pocket features our favourite combination: a double-diamond tail and a normal nose, for a mix of manoeuvrability and comfort. The short length and winger outline make turning radically easy, which allowed us to use a very straight rocker so that the Pocket accelerates even when the wind is light or the current is strong.”
PERFORMANCE
Stepping on the Pocket, it instantly feels the shortest and most compact – something a little bit different to the others in the group. The balance is easy to adjust to and it tracks well off the plane, yet requires a positive push off the wind to release quickly. Once going, the Pocket feels alert and alive, the ride more clattery than we can remember of its smaller sibling. It feels fast and on the limits, yet comparing your speed to others, you realise it is more to do with the character of the board than your actual speed. And as with the 87, the rear deckpad has a raised heel cushion, enabling you to reposition the backfoot out of the strap and push effectively against the fins to go upwind. Its stance on the water is quite corky, sitting high in the water, its nose and shoulders well clear of any danger. There is certainly a lively, responsive nature to its sailing style, encouraging the rider to hit oncoming ramps and throw the Pocket into the aerial trickery of their choice. It also really inspires you to push hard in the turn during a wave ride … yet this is where we came a little unstuck. If you drive through the front foot, the Pocket 97 tends to scrub its speed off and stall! It took us several waves and quite a bit of playing to find the board’s sweet spot, requiring a much more upright style, pivoting through the back foot. It is better for wave slashes than hard drawn-out turns, and in our opinion worked better in cross, even cross-offshore conditions than cross-onshore. In overpowered winds, its alert nature and high riding stance began to count against it, leading us to believe it’s best suited as the largest board in someone’s quiver for making the most of float-and-ride to comfortably powered conditions, in cross to cross-offshore waves.
THE VERDICT
Whilst not possessing the same spark as its smaller sibling, the 97 provides an alert and exciting ride in comfortably powered conditions, responding best to a positive back-foot biased riding style.
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Originally published within the September ’16 edition.
In Korea I tell Matteo Iachino, who’s quickly becoming one of my good friends due to a shared passion for silly jokes, “If I always pass the first round I should finish top 30, right?” Well… wrong. I finish 36th, a harsh reality check. First lesson of racing: don’t ever calculate, just race. That’s what I do in Costa Brava and finish 14th. I feel on top of the world. Everyone patting my back, the windsurf media wanting interviews and videos, enjoying my first PWA prize money, peers giving me the first bits of respect, industry starting to slowly notice the too small competitor from a too small market. “Let’s see how he does in Fuerte”, they’re thinking. The answer? Crap. Back to the drawing board.
No more girlfriend (“how can I be with someone who’s never here?”) and no more university (“how can we pay a scholarship to someone who’s never here?”). No more getting excited about 14th places. I was sitting at the gate with Josh Angulo once and he told me: “As a slalom sailor all you have to do is be top 4 every heat”. And that’s pretty much been my motto ever since. Some guys love winning first round heats even risking everything to get from 2nd to 1st. And a lot of the fans were more excited when I won a first round heat in front of Antoine in New Caledonia then when I got 7th overall in Sylt, which to me is absolutely ridiculous. I’ve even been branded “The Worm” by Finian due to sliding through heats Kevin Pritchard style. Offence to some, but an honour if you ask me. No more hanging out for no reason. I realized that hanging around and talking to people during the contest actually takes a lot of the energy and focus away. Sounds like a veteran? Well, not really. That hasn’t changed at all. I still feel as young and as fresh as in my teens. I still learn every day, the hard way a lot of the time. Like every year when negotiating contracts for example. Every year it’s different and every year, new circumstances come up. It starts the same with all the brand/team managers coming to Sylt for the PWA contest in October and sitting down with all their present and possibly future riders. From there they chase the biggest fish, the top 3, top 5 riders in each discipline. Then they move onto guys like me, which means between the nice chat you had in Sylt to the actual agreement, can be a 2-month gap sometimes. 2 months of not knowing what gear you’ll be riding next year, when you are going to get it and what your future is going to look like in general. The first year this happens you panic, as if the silence or the stalling means you’re not going to get picked up by anyone. Then you sort of get used to it and then start to use that time to improve as a windsurfer and as an athlete, which definitely won’t harm your negotiations. You can’t control everything, but control what you can control. This year I signed with GA/Tabou in December, after 4 years on Patrik and 3 on Point-7. As much as you would love to be loyal and be on the same brands forever, Ross Williams style, you learn that windsurfing is a business and you just have to approach every situation with an open mind, just looking at it as the way it unfolds.
So yes, the road to the top is long and winding. And yes, I believe, actually I’m pretty confident I can make it all the way. But if for some reason I don’t I’ll be ready to take on any new challenges in life. Only because of windsurfing and how much it’s given me. And I’m still “only” 24. So thank you windsurfing. You’re the best!”
“ When it comes to money, hope for the best, prepare for the worst ”
The post MACIEK RUTKOWSKI – ROAD TO THE TOP appeared first on Windsurf Magazine.
Gaastra and Tabou introduce the UK freestyler, Nic Hibdige, to the international windsurfing team!
instagram.com/gaastra_tabou_international
tabou-boards.com
gaastra.com
Via Gaastra
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