Sommaire pour March 2016 (40.2) de Zigzag

Personally, I was rooting for Adriano de Souza to claim the world title at Pipe this past December. His warrior spirit first resonated with me when I saw him take a courageous win at the 2012 Billabong Pro J-Bay over Frenchman Joan Duru — during the time it was a Qualifying Series event and not on the Dream Tour. Watching him brush off the fact that he’d lost some skin coming in over the hungry Supertubes rocks, he sprinted up the beach, paddled back out and grabbed the winning wave in the final. That’s when he really cemented himself in my books as a favourite. Yes, he isn’t as flashy as John John Florence or some of the other fan favourites, but he showed a spirit and heart that many…

The name says it all: ‘King’ of the grommets - ruler of the young guns, the finest of the next generation. To be head of the royal family and wear the crown you have to be the best, most well-rounded Under 18 surfer in the world. Quiksilver’s King of the Groms has evolved into being something of a unique contest with every year featuring an innovative new format to see the cream rise to the proverbial top. And in 2015, it was South African standout, Sebastian Williams who showed the world he deserved the title. “BEING AN UNKNOWN REALLY, I THINK I HAD T O DO SOMETHING T O PROVE MYSELF.” Over 1000 A-grade edits were entered into the online video format in Round 1. After two rounds of online…

* The author chose to remain anonymous. For as long as any of us can remember, women have been considered the weaker gender, and one of the many places where this can be seen is in the lineup. One top male surfer (ahem, Dusty Payne) was quoted in the surf film Lost Atlas as saying, “[Female surfers] are terrible. They think they should just wait for it to get one foot again so they can go out and do their little tailslides.” As debatable (and patronising) as his comment was, it hits a home truth. It’s no secret that the level of female surfing is nowhere near what the guys are doing. Whether this is a result of a false start and years of being pushed aside, or just a…

There are those reefs – corals, jagged rocks, bouldery badness and what not – that if you wipeout and hit them, scrapes and bruises are guaranteed. Sometimes a far worse injury can be on the menu. J-Bay’s shelf; those serrated things on PE’s Wild Side; the unforgivingly solid slab at Cave Rock… You know the type. Then there are other reefs. ‘Softer’ landings. Sure, bouncing off any reef is not ideal, but if the Grim Reaper of over-the-falls came knocking and forced you into a choice, a red bait-covered shelf would be cool. Ever so slightly rubbery, with some give and (usually) not too many sharp edges, it can almost be plush when compared to more exposed reefs. From Kalk Bay to Outer Pool, Hulett’s Left in St Francis up…

I mistime my jump off the rocks and hit the water awkwardly. A wave smacks my face, freezing my eyeballs instantly. I wait a moment for them to thaw out before paddling towards what looked like an ocean on fire. The south-easter has been howling for days and massive gusts of spray are being whipped high into the air, like smoke from one of the wildfires that tear through the Cape Peninsula every year at this time. I didn’t want to go out. I really didn’t. It looked deadly. Not so much because it was big and breaking all over the place, but because the impact zone was infested with kelp. I’m not talking about bits of seaweed floating in the water. I’m talking about giant kelp forests that are…

The first time I surfed Kalk Bay, I received the spanking that my mother should’ve given me years ago. Now, this wasn’t an ordinary hiding with a wooden spoon, this was a torn wetsuit sjambok affair. Walking out of the water with a mangled suit and a black-and-blue butt, I knew that this wasn’t a wave to be taken lightly. Almost 20 years later, I still have the same feeling. History Located in the northwest corner of Cape Town’s False Bay, the Reef, as it is affectionately known by those that surf there, is pound-for-pound one of the heaviest and most coveted slabs in South Africa. Flip through any issue of Zigzag from the 80s and you’ll see classic images of Tammy Rutherford, Robin Auld, Peers Pittard, Tich Paul, Guy…

1 OF THE BEST ANDRE BOTHA, PIPELINE Andre Botha is no stranger to heavy situations. The two-times world bodyboarding champ has made a career of pulling into some of the most treacherous waves on the planet, but his greatest accolade came this past season in Hawaii. Botha rescued pro surfer Evan Geiselman at Pipeline after the Floridian was knocked unconscious while pulling into a huge double-up along the infamous reef. “His face was dark blue, he was foaming at the mouth…I thought he was dead,” said Botha, who was paddling back out when he spotted Geiselman’s board tomb-stoning after the wipeout. He found Geiselman face down in the water and immediately started to perform CPR while getting pounded by waves and washed down the beach. At that point the lifeguards…

The biggest waves ever paddled into. That’s what they’re calling the momentous session at Jaws on Friday, 15 January. There was no towingin, no wind-assisted sailboards; just core human strength shown by the warriors who paddled into some beasts at Pe’ahi with their bare hands. Among the world’s hardest chargers out in the thundering lineup was the bearded baker from Durban, Josh Redman. For the second season in a row, Josh paddled out at massive Jaws and showed the world what he is made of – and it’s certainly not gingerbread. We interviewed Josh shortly after the historic session to find out more. Zigzag: You’re a baker by profession. How do you manage to stay in shape to paddle into the biggest waves in the world working those long hours?…

The kid on a tiny board was sitting on the end bowl. He looked me straight in the eyes, watching my face steadily with a cheeky lopsided grin. His salt bitten hair was knotted into dreadlocks and his face was burned the color of peanut butter. The kids’ dad was out there too, prowling the backline like a restless lion. A bump appeared and the lion surged toward his eldest cub, giving the tail of his tiny board an almighty shove that sent the kid careering down the face of a wave. We were at the Crayfish Factory. The kid was Max Armstrong and he was 10 years-old. Eight years later and Max was still grinning ear-to-ear, looking like a magician who had just pulled a rabbit out of a…