By Margaret Maccoll
I have to admit I’ve been glued to the box quite a bit since returning home, what with Margaret River coming alive by day and the cricket World Cup kicking in each evening, but never more so than last weekend’s “Super Saturday” at the terrifying Margie’s slab known, fittingly, as “The Box”.
As a certifiable world tour tragic, I’m all for watching the WSL decided in the most challenging waves on offer, but The Box on Saturday was not only next level (as the commentators said over and over again); in the latter stages of the round, as the tide backed off the reef, it was downright deadly.
How times change. The first time I went to Margaret River, in a previous century, Mainbreak was a left only, and that clump of reef at the north end of the bay that stood up when the swell got serious was an aberration not even on our radar. When I went back for the pro event a couple of years ago, I was amazed to watch what the best surfers could do at the virtual closeout of North Point, and stunned to see what they would take off on at The Box.
Of course, world tour events have long been held at so-called “waves of consequence”, notably the razor-sharp reefs of Pipeline and T’eahupoo, not to mention Big Wave Tour events at ridiculously life-threatening breaks like Nazare in Portugal. But there is something quite sinister about the thick, swirling death-trap monsters of The Box.
The writing was on the wall soon after dawn when the Italian stallion Leo Fioravanti struggled in from a practice session with his shoulder hanging from its socket. But there was no way the WSL was going to be denied the most exciting day of the entire tour. And for most of it, while there were plenty of spine-tingling wipeouts and oh Martha moments on the couch at home, there were also some incredible performances from the likes of Brazil’s Italo Ferreira and hometown injury replacement Jack Robinson.
But as the day wore on, the tide drained off the reef and surfers were skating the thin line between the full force of the Indian Ocean and a clump of jagged rock. By the time Julian Wilson jumped off the ski for his heat against Jadson Andre, it was truly, deeply dangerous. As the ocean boiled around them, both surfers showed total commitment, pushing over the ledge to air drop onto the reef and hope for the best, but clearly it was going to end in tears.
Andre took the drop on the biggest wave of the heat, got ferociously blasted off his board and onto the reef in a sickening “scorpion” back-fold. As Perry Hatchett rounded on the jet ski to pick up the pieces of the gutsy Brazilian, my mind went back to the middle of the night a few years back, in front of my laptop watching Julian waiting for the set to pass so he could see if Mick Fanning had survived the shark attack at J-Bay. Real time. WSL has got it right, you can’t script this.
As it turned out, Jaddy was okay – bruised and battered but no breaks. But no one wants to see surfers at risk like this. I was on the beach at Pipeline one early December day in 2005 when Tahitian Malik Joyeux took an air drop on a monster and was knocked unconscious by his board. I’ll never forget the fear and trepidation that filled the beach until the body was found washed into the rocks at Pupukea.
Malik was a fearless big wave rider at just 25, a funny, sunny kid who was a star member of our Quiksilver Europe surf team, representing the Gotcha brand. Like many of us who witnessed the frantic search and tragic discovery that morning, I knew Malik well and often surfed with him in France. His loss was terribly painful for all of us, but it was a free surf. No one had told him to put on a rashie and get out there to win or die trying.
I just hope I never see that happen.
Ready, Wrecks?
There’ll be no death-defying stuff at the 15th running of the Noosa Malibu Club’s Wrecks and Relics comp this weekend, although you can be reasonably certain the Celebrex and the Nurofen will get plenty of use.
I’ve surfed in a lot of them and I love this annual gathering of old surf dogs, even though as I get older the Over 50s division is beginning to look like a pack of grommets who have no place surfing with their elders and betters! We’ve had some pretty fun waves for the event over the years too, and this weekend looks promising, hopefully for First Point but more likely the banks at Noosa West.
And when we’ve walked the plank, cornered left and right and kept it nice and tight, we’ll be repairing to the Reef Hotel on Sunday evening to dance the night away to the only band in town of approximately the same vintage as us – the Surfin’ SandFlys. Cowabunga!
