Category: Uncategorized

Well, well, well. The Holy Father obviously didn’t spend all his time paging through the Bible. First, it is revealed that he was a dedicated paddler (see here). And now, according to a hilarious article by Lisa Anne Auerbach on Outside Online, we come to find that His Papal Hugeness was also a demon on skis. Here’s just the intro:

I’m snooping around the pope’s old bedroom in Kraków, Poland, checking out the gouges on his skis. I confess: I’ve been in a lot of bro-dorms, but none nearly as holy. Usually the decor consists of empty beer cans, a PlayStation, and smelly Capilene underwear. But in the tidy one-room pope pad—now part of the Archdiocesan Museum, located near Wawel Royal Cathedral, where Father Karol Wojtyla hung his skullcap from 1952 to 1958—there’s a dainty caf table, three chairs, a neat bunk with purple cushions, and an armoire filled with colorful priestly garb.

But right now I’m more interested in the two pairs of skis leaning in the corner. One’s an old hickory set with spring bindings and pointy tips, the kind you see hanging over bars in ski towns. The others, retired more recently, are 195-centimeter Head Pros with Tyrolia bindings. I can’t help myself—I have to touch them. The undersides are grooved with deep cuts and scratches. The skis don’t quite qualify as sacred relics, but they do serve notice that when he got away from it all, up in the mountains, Father Wojtyla wasn’t just sticking to the corduroy and cruising the green runs, like Gerald Ford at Beaver Creek. No—he skied over rocks! He was out there, off-piste. The man who became pope in 1978 might, in fact, have been a badass. As I clutch the skis, the docent stares, then quietly reminds me not to take a photograph.

Take the time to read the entire piece. You’ll laugh, you’ll snort, you’ll never think of ol’ JP II in the same way. Then say 100 Hail Mary’s for wasting time at work…

“And these were the blessed boots the Holy Helicopterer used for some monster hucks. They were no good for walking on water, though…”

East Coast surfers don’t get the big surf, but they get points for being hardcore. And the toughest of them are waiting for a call right now: a “We’re On” call from the organizers of the Red Bull Icebreaker, an annual frost-fest in which 30 qualifying surfers take to the winter waves of a surprise East Coast locale. The organizers have them on standby because they want to make sure the waves are big, the water is icy, and the conditions are frigid. We’re talking major shrinkage, if you know what I mean. Sounds crazy? It is. Read a little history here. And check out these two excellent videos. Clip 1 is a trailer for the event DVD. Clip 2 has great scenes from the Nova Scotia (yes, Nova Scotia) qualifier. Which took place in November. Yes, November. Cowa-brrrr-bunga…

“Uh-oh. I think that’s an iceberg I’m about to land on…”

Peter Wallerstein hardly ever sets foot in an office. He gets a lot of sun. And the deep, mournful sounds emitting from the back of his pickup truck often attract attention. Why? Because he’s the guy you call if you happen to find a stranded marine mammal on the South Bay beaches of Los Angeles. Last year he stayed pretty busy, rescuing 165 sea lions and seals, one dolphin and more than 100 seabirds. It’s not a bad way to spend your life, and you can read a full profile of Wallerstein here.

Here’s a typical scene in his Wetass life:

“In the truck’s bed is a huge steel crate, perforated with air holes.

“What do you got in there?” asks a goateed young man in the next car. Wallerstein knows better, but he can’t resist.

“It’s my girlfriend,” he says, anything but deadpan, his face breaking into a wide smile.

Wallerstein might be permitted a little dark levity. Moments before, dressed in shorts, T-shirt and hiking sandals, he was at water’s edge in Hermosa Beach, standing between the surf and a seizing, disoriented, 200-plus-pound sea lion.

With a big hoop net, Wallerstein will try to get the sick sea creature into the steel box, so he can take it to the local marine mammal emergency room. Of course, the sea lion doesn’t know that. It is very mobile on land with flippers adapted for walking — and charging if need be — and its every instinct is to get away.”

Wallerstein has his own website, with lots of dramatic and touching tales of marine mammal rescue. Sounds like a possible Baywatch-esue TV drama…

“Damn, here’s this nutjob again. Dude, I told you, I’m just trying to catch a little sun and check out the latest in bikini fashion…!”

Windsurfer supremo Finian Maynard has done it again. This past weekend, on the wings of a 40-knot Mistral, blowing at a perfect 126 degree angle over the custom-designed French Trench, Maynard raised the sailing speed record yet again. His new number: 48.7 knots. Gulp. Karin Jaggi also set a new woman’s outright record at 41.25 knots. Maynard was not wearing a GPS on his record run, but you have to assume that at times he was flying along at 50-plus knots. So while the sailboat designers keep fiddling with their eccentric contraptions, Maynard is steadily heading toward the magical 50-knot barrier, one of the few monstrous challenges left in speed sailing. I’ve got my money on him…

Flying Finian: “Dum-de-dum. This is getting routine. Now, let’s see. What should I have for lunch today? And will it be Guinness or lager…?”

Question: How do you get some coal barges and a tugboat under a low bridge with the river running at flood stage? Answer: watch and learn…

“Hey, Charlie. Low bridge ahead. Release the barges and let ’em float through…”

“But how are we going to get under, Skip…?

“Heh-heh. Ever play tugboat limbo, Charlie…?”

“How low can we go…?”

“Limbo, limbo, limbo-tug. Sing, Charlie…”

“Surfacing. Aooogah. Aooogah. I love this tugboat sh*t…”

“Dum-de-dum. Time to hook up again…”

“Ahh. That’s enough fun for now, Charlie. Crack me a beer and let’s find the next bridge on the chart…”
(Thanks to TWC reader Bruce Kendall)

Some people are into swimming with Great White sharks (how bored with life do you have to be?). Fabian Cousteau, the legendary Jacques’ grandson, is into swimming in them. Now, I guess that some of the people that swim with them end up in them, but that’s not what Fabian had in mind. He wanted to be the shark, so naturally he contacted the one place where you can be anything you want to be: Hollywood. And he asked famed animatronics guru Eddie Paul to build him a life-like mechanical Great White shark that he could dive in. And thirty years after the lame, obviously fake “Bruce” which ate Robert Shaw in Steven Spielberg’s breakout movie, Paul came up with a pretty damn good shark (he also built a mechanical shark for Fabian’s father, which worked fine until another Great White ripped its head off). If you want all the gory technical details (“The shark’s skeletal frame consists of a Makrolon polycarbonate spine and stainless steel ribs.”), you can check out this feature in Design News. But all you really need to know is that this guy is self-propelled by compressed air, is nicknamed “Troy,” and has three cameras to record the fishy action. Fabian has already taken it for a few rides off Baja, and while he says the other Great Whites seem to accept it is some sort of shark they apparently treat it like a “retarded cousin from Australia.” Using Troy to film real sharks in action is innovative and cool, but I have to ask whether this is really the best use for him. I mean, think of all the trouble you could make off the coast of Florida. Hell, you could blackmail the tourist industry. Even better you could have CNN in certified shark frenzy for a month (and maybe even get them to cut back to just 10 hours a day of Michael Jackson)…

Fabian And Troy Swim With The Fishes: “Uh-oh. That guy behind us is looking a little amorous. Oh well. I wanted unusual footage and I guess I’m about to get it…”
(Thanks to TWC reader Luis Vieira for the original tip)

Snowmobile porn. I don’t condone it, I just post it. Make sure no environmental activists are looking over your shoulder, and click here…

“Woo-hoo. Just look at those caribou scatter…!”

It sounds like a question for Wetass Philosophy 101: how many surfers can you squeeze onto a surfboard? The answer is quite surprising: as of last weekend the number is 47. Yup, 47. No, it wasn’t a normal board. It was a steroidal, super-sized surfer. Here’s are the key details:

Crafted by renowned Gold Coast shaper Nev Hyman, the monstrous 40-foot long craft is a super-sized replica of World Championship Tour (WCT) surfer Dan Wills’ (Byron Bay, NSW, Aus) standard 5’11 competition board.

Thousands of spectators and media gathered to watch more than 30 people carry the craft to the water’s edge before it was towed into the lineup with the aid of a 1200cc jet-ski.

Wills and fellow WCT competitors Troy Brooks (Aus), Chris Ward (USA), Victor Ribas (Brz), Neco Padaratz (Brz) and Hyman were joined by 41 others, including Hyman’s factory staff, all of whom climbed aboard to try and surf their way into the record books.

With a news helicopter hovering above and vision of the feat being beamed into hundreds of thousands of homes worldwide via the quiksilver.com live webcast, a huge roar erupted from beachgoers as the board was pulled into position and onto a small wave.

The world’s best surfers clung to each other for balance and jockeyed for position on the deck of the massive craft which slowly tracked shoreward, before its over-sized fins eventually dug into Snapper’s famous ’Superbank’ sandbar bringing the monstrosity and its passengers to a grinding halt.

Most riders were thrown laughing from the board into waist deep water and two of the fins were also ripped from its underside, yet the incredible ride is considered a successful entry for the Guinness record books.

“I almost didn’t believe he was making it when he told me,” said Wills of his shaper’s early intentions. “I was freaking out thinking about what might happen if we nose-dived? Or got caught by a massive wave? Or even how we’d manage to catch a wave! But it actually handled really, really well.”

“I was opting for the rail,” laughed Wills. “I wanted to be able to bail out if I needed to! But I reckon we could’ve had another 10 guys, easy!”

Hyman laboured for over a month to complete the giant shape which also required more than 300 litres of resin, ? ton of foam, 220 metres of fibre glass and cost more than $50,000.

“I’m just beside myself,” gasped Hyman. “All 47 surfers, we were in hysterics as we were getting pushed along. It only lasted a short time, I would love to get straight back out there and catch more waves, but we busted two fins out. But this has been a mission for me for a long time, and it’s turned out fantastically.”

The previous record for the most people riding a single surfboard was set in Cornwall, England with 14 surfers riding a narrow shaped paddle-board. The record for the longest surfboard has been held by surfers who constructed an oversized board in New Zealand, but today said Hyman confidently, “We smashed ’em all!”

I’d love to see them try that baby on a 60-footer. Calling Laird Hamilton…

“Goddammit! Who just pinched my ass…?”

Wondering whether the new Volvo Open 70 is a fast boat? Wonder no longer. Telefonica Movistar, skippered by Bouwe Bekking and on the way from Wellington towards Cape Horn, just broke the outright monohull 24-hour record. Their mark? 530 miles, which beats the old record held by Mari Cha IV (which is almost twice as long) by 5 miles. Equally impressive, they reportedly hit speeds of 36 knots at times, and were just 10 miles shy of the 1994 solo record set by Laurent Bourgnon in his Open 60 trimaran. We’ve come a long way in monohull design when we are comparing a sloop and an Open 60 tri. What can we conclude from all this? Well, it is complicated so pay attention: these boats are f*cking fast. Which will be great for the Volvo Ocean race which I’m reasonably certain starts sometime this decade (seems like forever since the last one).

If you want to slurp up more color about these new super-surfers, check out the transatlantic crossing diary from ABN AMRO. Here’s Sidney Gavignet’s account of what it’s like to drive these babies:

“Balaclavas and gloves of all kind appeared on deck. Last night the atmosphere was not the same. No wool hats, but true diving balaclavas with helmets with an attached visor. 30 to 35 knots of wind, and the bridge turns into a waterfall. 25, 28, 30, 32 knots: the speedometer goes up relentlessly.

One can only guess what the digital instruments are reading while the boat attacks another wave! We don’t know anymore, is it better to surf it or to go through it? In one of these waves, doing over 30 knots, the bow pulpit (that stainless steel tube structure) did not resist the encounter between the boat’s speed and the sea water resistance. It ended up completely bent.

In this specific wave I had totally eased the spinnaker to alleviate the pressure on the mast. At the wheel, constantly doing close to 25 knots, with small decreases to 20 knots, the accelerations are enormous. The amplitudes to turn the wheel have to be very brief: any rotation is amplified by speed.

At these speeds we never use more than half a turn of the wheel,compared to its entire perimeter in normal conditions. The key momentis the change of the Helmsman. “All sails up” means you have to get into the rhythm in a split second in the black and referenceless night.”

Hmm, contrary to many expectation maybe this Volvo race thing is going to be a pretty good show…

“Heh-heh. Nice work, Bouwe. Now let’s call Bob Miller up and suggest that Mari-Cha will make a hell of a planter…”