Walking into a long weekend. Lens Wizard 📷@brentonderooyphoto

JVL
KIROKAZE
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Product Placement
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I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
almost home
noise dept.
$LAYYYTER
Stranger Things

Andulka
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
taylor price
Peter Solarz
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

izzy's playlists!
Not today Justin

JBB: An Artblog!
Jules of Nature
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@amsliding
Walking into a long weekend. Lens Wizard 📷@brentonderooyphoto
Sometimes you stumble across something special. Akoroa, Autumn 2016
Magic mornings. Thanks for the 📷 @scottyj1208
Jono's new custom wetty jacket arrived today. Looks great! @helloo_newman #ripcurlpro#billabong#quiksilver #flexible
Summer daze.
A snippet from the original track "Johnny and he's home for good" performed live by the Hayle st Hotties (Copyright pending). Demo tape due fall 2019. Ft @jimmywilliamson @waitwhatt_ dedicated to @helloo_newman
Father of Christmas and a hell night! 🍻@jimmywilliamson
All those years on the slip n slide paying off...Deus womp Comp 2015 📷@anthonydodds #slipnslide #speedos
My Hero Jonah I was 5 years old when I was first introduced to Jonah Lomu. Me and a friend Adam were flipping through some books in my primary school library. Although it was almost twenty years ago I can still remember Adam opening up a black covered book and pointing at a picture of this huge dark figure. "This is rugby, this is Jonah Lomu." He told me. Adam might have only been 8 years old (and really only a fan because he thought Jonah was Fijian like him) but in hindsight Adam's words couldn't have been more accurate. Like most kiwi kids growing up in the mid 90s, from my first glance I became absolutely obsessed with Jonah and with rugby. Soon my walls were covered in news paper clippings and posters of Jonah. I would stare at his pictures for hours infatuated by his size, rippling muscles, his puffing cheeks and the fire in his eyes. I couldn't comprehend how someone could be so big and strong yet so fast and agile. I lived and breathed Jonah and rugby. My rugby ball was like a vital organ that I could not function without. I'd spend hours on the back lawn pretending to bump off George Gregan, sprinting onto a short ball from Mehrts then diving for a try with four Frenchmen hanging off me like flies. By the time I was seven I probably knew more about Jonah than I did about myself. Although Jonah was from humble beginnings in South Auckland, Tongan and humongous and I was from a middle class family in a lovely seaside town, 28 kilos and white- I felt like we had so much in common, like we were brothers. Jonah confirmed this on our first meeting. It was 1998, an NPC game at then called Lancaster park and Jonah's Counties Manukau team were playing Canterbury. I was still at an age where my hotdog and chips was about as exciting as watching the game. However, with the full time whistle came the chance of getting autographs and I was jumping on my seat like a trampoline. Pitch invasions were the norm back then as was players telling kids to piss off. After running around the posts a few times I had done a pretty crap job of getting signatures. Although I was hopeless at getting close to the players mum was ruthless. Before the tears in my eyes had started to well she was pulling me round the back of the stadium to the team dressing rooms. The security was pretty relaxed and mum had no problem weaselling my flag into the Canterbury shed. Yea that was pretty cool but beside from Mehrts and Marshall I didn't have clue who the rest of the players were. All I cared about was seeing Jonah and a signature from Norm Maxwell just wasn't going to cut it. Mum tried to keep my spirits up by telling me that if we waited long enough he would eventually come. I had lost hope and tears were just moments away when all of a sudden mum whispered In my ear, "There he is!" I looked up from the ground and my jaw dropped. There standing 5 metres away was Jonah! I froze and could only stair but mum made sure I didn't blow my chance and pushed me over to him and quickly asked for a photo. "Sure thing" he replied. He bent down from what must have been about 10 metres and then said the words that set my heart on fire. "Hey bro" Bro! Bro! Brooooo!!! That's right Jonah confirmed that we were brothers! Mum wound back her camera and snapped away while I stood there looking like a retard. Mum thanked him and he smiled and just as he began to walk off once more he consolidated our brother hood. "See ya later bro!" I just about fainted and don't think I said much on the way home I just starred at his signature on the ticket. Well if I didn't say much that afternoon I sure as hell made up for it for the next few weeks at school. Mum had the photo developed into a big A4 picture which I brought along to school and showed off like a new born while telling everyone about how we were brothers. As the years went by my infatuation with Jonah only became stronger. Next it was the 1999 World Cup where as an eight year old I was screaming Jonah's name in the middle of the night while Keith Quin stole the words from my mouth-"It's 1995 all over again!" I remember I had a sick day from school when we lost the semi to France and although my heart had been broken my love for Jonah was only stronger as he single handily attempted keep the All Blacks alive with tries that you could only laugh at. I can actually remember my brother laughing out loud as he watched the French attempt to stop him. The kids today don't understand what it was like being an All Blacks supporter in the late 90s and early 2000s. All Black wins were anything but a given and the Bledisloe was locked away at John Eales's place were he used it as an esky when George and Steve came over for barbies. They'd laugh over the fact that John hadn't kicked a penalty for years and then smacked one over in the Bledisloe decider- the bastards. It truly was a 4X golden era for Australian rugby which made the All Black wins that much sweater when they came. I was at friends 10th Birthday party in 2000 when what is now referred to as "The greatest game ever played" took place. It was a sleep over and me and my buddies were more jacked up on sugar than a dog at a tennis court. After the first 5 minutes our voices were beginning to crack as Jonah and the AB's ran wild. Then came that familiar feeling of heart ach and chronic anxiety as the Wallabies nosed back then ahead. We peaked through our fingers as the clocked ticked down all while I whispered under my breath, " Just give it to Jonah." It's funny to think that All Blacks game plan when Jonah was in the team was virtually the same as any under thirteen team that had an early developed Pacific Islander in it-just get the ball to him then keep up. Thankfully on that night in 2000 they got it right. "Here we go, can he make it, you bet ya, you bet ya!" After that try I reckon our cheers would have been heard in the neighbouring suburb. Me and a few of the boys got so excited we ran out onto the street howling Jonah's name before getting told off by the poor parent trying to host the sleep over. Over the next few years Jonah continued to produce magic moments but many critics started to question whether he still had his same flare. The coaches even doubted him and in what would have to be the worst selection ever started Caleb Ralph ahead of him. However, despite what any critics had to say, anytime Jonah stepped onto a field my heart would accelerate. People talk of the presence of greatness well Jonah had an aura of something almost supernatural-looking back maybe he was. Jonah Lomu was a hero. He inspired the world for what he could do on the field but also for how kind and humble he was off it. As my good friend Adam said all those years ago "This is Jonah Lomu, this is rugby." R.I.P.
Don't follow trends, snean them. #sneans#sneansinthecity#sneansforlife
Marvin's turning into quite the fashionista! He's especially stoked on the new boobie pillows from @sundayscrowd 🚐
I was really starting to find my feet in indo this year..
Nice to be in Noosa 😍
Breakfast time in Loas. - - - Yum. - @natgeotravel #almsround #alms#loas
Lankan lines.
Gnarly Nias! Clockwise from top-Damos Bomb! Pic unknown. Ed and hammock,Shakes and tubes, Rasta in a smoker-pic Jake_of_all_trades,groms, me, Jono, will, coco kids, view from the top.
Indo here we go. "We caught the wrong boat!" Hangover and in hysterics we pulled into the bay of Gilly T....not Lombok. Canggu, or as we affectionally called it-the Gu, had sucked us deep within its vortex. The Deus event had well and truly been and gone and the waves were about as good as Sumner but the awesome foursome were locked in. We knew the locals, what warungs to hit and more importantly what was on every night. Finally, after our 100th onshore hungover surf we had reached breaking point and knew it was time to get out, and get out fast. We deliberated for awhile about where would be out next destination. Toddy only had a week and as much as we wanted to get away from built up Bali we didn't want to miss a Sunday session. With a trip back to Uluwatu starting to look as adventurous as we were going to get we had a chat to a travel agent in the street. Anok, sold us on week long mission to Lombok. Connecting busses and boats from our doorstep included it was all going to be a cruise-what unfolded was a little different. It all sounded so easy. A thirty minute van ride to the port and a half hour speed boat and we were good to go! So with this mellow day of traveling in mind me and Toddy decided a night out in Syminyak would be a a bit of harmless fun...after two hours of sleep we awoke in agony. The taxi van was waiting and arguing that our tickets didn't include the transport of our surfboards. We battled for 10 minutes before relenting and giving him his extra rupiah. It seemed the driver smelt our night out and after pissing him off about the payment was going to get his remittance by ferociously throwing the van into every corner. Only half an hour I told myself. After two of the most painful hours of the trip we arrived. Relieved to have made it without releasing my Seminyak over the passengers in front of me, we snatched our gear from the torture truck and headed for the fun ferry. Bradley took charge of the situation and inquired with the boat men if this was to be our vessel. They happily took our tickets and hiffed our boards aboard. We jumped on the top deck with a warning we might get a few splashes of water on us but with the sweat gushing down our faces it would be a welcome refreshment. Thirty minutes into our thirty minute trip we had barely made it out of the harbour. We asked some of the other passengers on there expected time frames. Everything from twenty minutes to three hours was thrown into the mix. We accepted the unknown and ordered a Bintang. About one hour into the trip the first splashes of water began brushing our faces. About one hour and ten minutes into the trip we were struggling to take breaths between the waves unloading on the deck. We were wet to the bone, soaked to the core and Bradley had the whole deck in hysterics with his titanic reenactments-even the boat hands, who had know idea what he was saying where pissing themselves. Two soaking hours later we idled towards land. Thinking Lombok looked smaller than we had envisioned we asked the drivers if this was it. "No this Gilly T-Lombok there" "O okay so we drop some people off here then go to Lombok?" "No Lombok different boat ahahahaha" Well if the boat thought Brads titanic routine was funny this had stolen the show. We had to laugh aswell, four hours of brutally hungover travel and we had arrived at the wrong island. Toddy looked like he was smiling but I'm pretty sure it was that slow smile you make when you first start crying. One night in Gilly T- Me and Toddy went into hibernation, Brad went hiking and Ed went and scored hell waves which we all were pretty pissed off about. The next day we caught a public ferry to our intended destination. Five days in Lombok went in a flash. Some fun waves, some even better scooter rides (unsurprisingly ended in a crash-toddy was fine) a fun night and some new friends from California and South America and it was time to sail back to the mainland. Toddy had 5 days left in Bali and we had his uncles villa to ourselves in Seminyak. We had lovely few days relaxing by the pool, games of scrabble and scenic walks...Well somewhere between that and the Wolf of Wall Street. As you can imagine Toddy was always going out with a bang. Gnarly Nias! With teary eyes me, Ed and Brad said goodbye to our captain Toddy. Still dazed from the last five days we had no plan what our next move was. We went to Kuta and our base the Sayang Maha Marta hotel. They were used to us rocking up with no booking and haggling them for a cheap room that we could put more beds in. The next two days were traumatic as we wondered between travel agents and idea's of where to go. Covered in a filthy coat of Kuta we all desperately wanted to have something sorted but all had differing ideas of where it was we should be. After far too long at the scummy Internet cafe tossing up between Nias, Lances right, playgrounds and Canggu I selfishly made the call I was going to Nias. It was a days travel and a world class right hander. It also meant my old mate Jono could tag along. Ed, reluctant of the crowds, jumped on board, Brad delayed a decision. Back on the backfiring beasts, we scooted out to Ulu's for a few days of familiar comforts before departing. Of those familiarities was Brads favourite milkshake and catching up with Lockie and Lana who escaped NZ when a German tourist made a complaint they received hyperthermia after Lans hired him a spring suit for the ten degree water. Then it was the night before our 4am departure. Jono arrived at 9pm so we had seven hours to show him a good Bali night-where better place to do it than the guuu! With his little blue hat on, Johnny was always going to steal an old mans heart. We ruled the dance floor the same way we had as year 7s at the mt pleasant disco. Nothing had changed even Jono trying to casually tuck his boner under his belt when he was dancing with a hot girl. Somehow around 6am Ed had us all in a taxi van headed for the airport. Sadly, although we had gained jolly Jono we said good bye to Bakery Brad-who would spend his final week is Bali continuing his research in what makes milk shake. Three flights later and a three hour drive and surprisingly we arrived without a hitch at Lugundri bay, Nias just in time for a sunset surf. Nias is said to have been discovered by Kevin Lovett and John Giesel, two young Australian surfers, in 1975. The pair spotted the horse shoe bay on a Chiefs map while in North Samatra. Their adventure and planning paid off and they surfed perfect Nias barrels for 3 months alone. Sadly, Giesel, died 7 months later after suffering repeated bouts of malaria and contracting pneumonia or maybe because his mind had found heaven and his body followed? The pair vouched to keep the wave a secret and 35 years later we had secretly been told to go by our friend Hammy. One of humans best kept secrets is that we all secretly love telling other people, people's secrets. "Hey Toddy told me not to tell anyone, so just between you me he's taken up Ballet again." And that's exactly the way it's gone with Nias and Toddys Ballet- everyone's in on the secret. There are about ten losmen (strange name for guest houses) that line the point in Nias, each one accommodating up to ten or so surfers. All of which are facing the wave-so everyone's watching all day everyday. Although it sounds like a recipe for a crowded disaster we spent our first week surfing three times a day with a mellow 5-15 person crowd. Staying at our losmen was a bunch of well seasoned Indo travellers from home. Nick introduced us to his hour glass crowd theory. Pretty much you aim to go out just before you think a bigger crowd was going to start coming in. That way you could surf a good in-between phase which was empty before people realise it wasn't crowded and all started coming out! So for a week we waxed the night before so we wouldn't wake others in the morning, turned our hour glasses and scored really fun waves! Early on in the week we began hearing murmurs that a big swell was coming, which is pretty standard in indo as everyone loves to hype waves. Well as the week went on the hype for the swell became substantially more than standard. Tracks, Surfer, Funny pet pics, Magic Seaweed were all posting, gramming tweeting and twitting the shit out of this thing. Jono panicked and caught a flight out the day before the swell arrived (jokes he had to go) and as he did a bunch of the worlds best big wave Daves started arriving with 14 boards each and 12 cameras. The first day the swell started to show I had a great dawnie. A few good tubes and some better close outs- I was frothing. Thinking it was too deep to really hit the bottom I started taking off deeper and looking for a few more of the double ups. This was all going great until I got slapped straight to the reef, bounced, dragged and abused. I came in tail between my legs knowing the swell had hardly started filling in... The next day we awoke at dark and could just make out the lines starting to wrap into the bay. As the sun began creeping up the reality of how big it was became visible. House sized swell lines marched at pace before hitting the reef, the bottom of the wave dropping out completely creating a huge cavern for the likes of Rasta, Anthony Walsh and Alex Grey to get a portfolio of covers, ads, grams and features in funnypetpics.com. Encouraged by the boys at the losmen I paddled out, sat wide, got a couple and survived. The next day was same same but better. The swell had held all of its size, possibly grew, but was lining up perfectly. Someone was getting the wave of their life every set. I was starting to get more confidence aswell and as everyone was waiting for the tsunami's it left me plenty of smaller ones. The same day I watched Damo, a teacher from the goldy and all round legend get the wave of the swell. With no sponsors or personal photog, Damo caught the wave he said he'd been trying to get in 9 years of Nias trips. It was mind blowing. Three days later and I was riding a beat up longboard on head high rollers...The Chargers had left with full hard drives as quickly as they had come in. Me and Eddy hung with local groms who hassled us to buy coconuts and doughnuts which we consistently obliged. Then just as the first mumblings of new swell started it was our time to leave. Nias had been epic, an eye opener an experience. Now it was time for a new one-Sri Lanka was its name. 🐘