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WELCOME TO GAME DAY
Behind The Race For Teahupoo's Next Big Beast
by
Ian Walsh

Sitting on the North Shore on a flat Tuesday, waiting for the waves to come up during the Xcel Pro, I couldn’t help but wonder if my priorities were in the right place. A few days earlier I was supposed to go to Tahiti for a photo shoot with Red Bull, but I passed on account of the contest. Now the contest was on hold and the biggest swell in more than two years was heading straight for where I should have been in the first place. That’s when I decided to do I what any self-respecting surfer would do: I weighed the pros and cons of skipping town for the sake of that one great ride and packed my bags.

Even though I’d analyzed it 20 times over, I checked the forecast once more before calling Shane [Dorian] to get him on the program. Dorian was in Canada at the time, so we had to put the pieces together long distance. The immediate plan was that we’d both redeye it into LAX, hook up at the Sheraton on Wednesday morning, and hop the eight-hour flight to Tahiti from there.

And while that sounds relatively simple, nothing turns out the way you planned when you’re talking about Teahupoo. These days, when a wave as impressive as Teahupoo comes to life there’s a swarm of people prepared to document it for every type of medium you can imagine. It was as if our phones were being bugged, because suddenly a huge number of people wanted to tag along to document our every move—a complete logistical nightmare.

FROST AND TRANSLATION
Why Remote Parts of Coastal Japan Remain a Mystery
by
Joe Curren

Shibuya station is the Time Square of Tokyo, the famous crisscross intersection where pedestrians blend together like ants. Frazzled by the shifting currents of people, I try my best to dodge bodies coming at me from every angle. Welcome to Tokyo, the most populated metropolis in the world, home to over 33 millions inhabitants. I’ve made several trips here in recent years, and while I’m fascinated by Japan in many ways, adapting to huge crowds is just not my thing. It's always a suffocating experience that includes horrific traffic jams, shoebox-size hotel rooms and being packed like a sardine into trains. Sadly, the nearby beaches are hardly a refuge.

Even when it’s tiny, surf breaks around Tokyo’s suburbs like Chiba and Shonan are so clogged that hop scotching across surfer’s backs to get to the takeoff spot is an option. But this doesn’t seem to bother many of the locals. Keigo is my local connection here. He’s an avid surfer who’s helped me organize photo exhibits and supplies me with a wetsuit sponsorship in Japan. When I asked him if he ever gets tired of being surrounded by so many people he just looked confused, “No…why?” His lack of concern made me realize just how little personal space actually meant to him. Tokyo does have a lot to offer: wild nightlife, exquisite food, and great shopping, but I’ve long wondered if there’s is a place in Japan for the surfer who just wants to get away from it all?

RELIABLE SOURCES
When Second-Hand Information Pays Off
by
Grant Ellis

After being behind the SURFER light table for more than four years now, deciding where and how to spend my allotted “out of office” time has become much more difficult than I ever imagined. With each new photo submission that comes in, the possibilities overwhelm me. Such is the curse with this job.

Truth is, I’m not the shopping type. If I walk into a store without a very clear picture of what I’m after, I won’t buy anything. If there’s too much to choose from I usually choose nothing, and I notice the same problem occurs when I’m trying to cherry pick the right surf trip. After pondering each corner of the globe, deciding on one feels impossible.

WHERE ANYTHING GOES
Why Chaos Is California's Biggest Contribution To Surfing
by
Sam George

In early October a modest southwest swell lit up the sandstone reefs of Pleasure Point in Santa Cruz, producing clean, 3- to-four-foot right walls with glassy surface conditions prevailing under sunny blue skies. Traffic was thick along East Cliff Drive—cruiser bikes, dog-walkers, SUVs bristling with boards rumbling by the old Pleasure Point Market and past the weathered benches that look out over the surf from the edge of the bluffs.

On one of these benches sat two surfers, Randy French and Matt George, both enjoying an afternoon beer while checking out the action at First and Second Peak. During one particularly picturesque set, George got up, and with his tiny cell-phone camera, snapped a quick shot of the timeless Monterey Bay surfing tableau.

"Hey!" came a voice, surly, challenging. “What are you gonna do with that photo?”

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