By Phil Jarratt
The huge event village erected at Snapper Rocks may have sat forlorn and lonely all week, but around the corner at Duranbah the World Surf League’s 2019 season got off to a cracker of a start.
Granted, it wasn’t the dreamy kind of start to the tour that we’re used to seeing at the Quiksilver Pro – who can forget Julian’s barrel at Kirra last year to claim the yellow jersey? – but D-Bah delivered just enough of its powerhouse beachies to get results, and the whole southern Gold Coast was just going off, in and out of the water.
Of course, running the entire event at the backup venue took world tour event surfing back about 30 or 40 years to two tents on the beach and an Esky full of water. The workout room in the athletes’ enclosure went untouched, and the VIPs never got to appreciate Karen Neilsen’s retro bamboo beachhouse design of the hospitality space. But no one I talked to seemed to care, although Tourism and Events Queensland may not have been delighted that the entire focus of the event moved from the southern-most surf break in Queensland to the northern-most one in NSW.
Oh well, them’s the breaks, literally.
What both the men’s and women’s contests highlighted was the changing of the guard that’s been coming for a season or two, but really seems to have kicked in this year. Reigning world champ Steph Gilmore was no match for 17-year-old Caroline Marks from California, while Kelly Slater just can’t keep up with the Brazilian stormtroopers who are less than half his age.
I’m not suggesting that either of those veterans – with a total of 18 world titles between them – are done and dusted. But for Kelly, in particular, the years are taking their toll. Everything would have to go very, very right for him to win another world tour event, let alone another world title. After two back-to-back shockers, I’m pretty sure a big part of Kelly would want to put his comp boards back in the rack and call it a day, but the fact is he’s committed to making a documentary of his final year on tour, and to surf at most of the events.
Of course, the wags are having a field day already on what that doco might be called if Kelly goes all year without winning a heat. The best one I heard was “From GOAT to GLOAT” – from greatest of all time to greatest loser of all time. That’s almost too cruel to share, but Kelly’s got broad shoulders.
Off the beach, the WSL banquet rocked The Star casino, Wendy Botha was inducted into the Surfing Hall of Fame at the Q Hotel, and Ian “Kanga” Cairns launched his biography in front of a packed house at Surf World museum. But the most poignant gathering of the week occurred further down the coast at Spookies Point, Angourie, where many hundreds of surfers farewelled David “Baddy” Treloar, one of our best-loved underground heroes.
I was on a mission, driving north to meet another commitment and was unable to be there, but I’m told that it was the most moving tribute since we saw off the great Michael Peterson half a dozen years ago. I wish I could have been in two places at once.
The non-birthday party
No, she said. Not having a party, don’t want one and you can’t make me. Her wish is my command, of course, so we decided to have the extended family up to our place at Agnes Water. Out of sight, out of mind, maybe we could even buy up the town’s supply of candles and have a little birthday cake.
But the friends down south evidently didn’t get the no party memo. “I’m flying up and you can’t stop me,” said one lady. “Me too,” said another. We soon outgrew our little pad and had to rent a couple more beach bungalows. We surfed, we lolled around and laughed a lot, drank a little good wine, told outrageous lies, as old people do. We had a ball. And just quietly ticked the box on another good decade.
California in the spring
Around about the time you’re reading this, we’ll be settling into our little garden studio home away from home in Laguna Beach, California, en route to adventures in Mexico. We can never touch down in LA without touching base with old mates, and just to get us excited about our Laguna stay, our friends sent us a couple of snapshots of what the garden looks like after 17 inches of late winter rain.
As you’ll know if you’re old enough to remember the song, it never rains in Southern California, so this blaze of colour is pretty special. Hope it’s an omen for a great start to our trip.
