Zigzag içinde June 2021 - 45.3 için içindekiler tablosu

Sylvan & Sea is a knife-making studio. I started it up in the dilapidated garage of an old farmhouse, on the coast outside of East London. I had a forge, a kiln and some other tools. I bought a belt sander, too. It was enough to do the job, and all that I could afford. Sculpting and drawing have always been among the few things I get beautifully lost in. I had hoped knife-making would be a similar experience. Before that I’d dabbled with casting bronze in my workshop. Smaller stuff. There was so much freedom in it, which made the learning curve very frustrating when I moved on to the chef’s knives. I suddenly had to be careful, and precise. It was repetitive, and often I’d lose focus and…

What’s it like for a musician just before stepping on stage in front of thousands of people, the combined expectations of multitudes pulsing from the other side of the curtain? “It’s like pure, pure terror,” says Jeremy Loops. “But there's a moment, basically as the lights go down and you're about to get on stage, where everything gets really quiet, and all your fear drops away. It’s a sense of ultimate presence.” Onstage, there are a million things that can go wrong in an hour and a half, he explains. “All you have is silence, in a way. None of the noise in your head exists. None of the stories about ‘What am I doing tomorrow?’ or ‘I can’t believe this person said this to me’, or ‘Man, I’m really…

"Surfing and zol went together like beer and bunny chow in the 60s, 70s and most of the 80s. And some of the 90s. And maybe last weekend." Big Willy, the editor of this magnificent organ, was his usual charming self when he called to impose yet another of his savagely unreasonable deadlines. When I asked if the upcoming issue had a particular theme, he muttered something about “surfers who make things”, followed by a long silence. I took the opportunity to fetch another beer. “You still there?” I said when I got back. “Who is this?” he barked. “It's … what? You called me.” “What do you want?” “This theme… surfers who make things. Do you mean…” “I don't have time for this,” shouted Willy. “I'm going surfing. Do…

The Umgeni River Mouth is a barometer for Durban surfers. Thousands cross the bridge each day, taking their eyes off the road to stare dangerously out to sea. At a glance, the view from the Umgeni bridge will tell you everything you need to know about the size and direction of the swell, the relevant wind and the general cleanliness of the water. But after the first summer rains the Umgeni becomes a lightning rod for outrage, as thousands of kilos of plastic waste get washed down the valley and into the Indian Ocean, choking the banks of the river mouth with plastic. Enter Cameron Service, who's equally mad about mountain biking and surfing. “I was the GM for Holla Trails and I spent a lot of time in the…

The decision to build a pair of wooden surfboards with my youngest grom, Kye, was taken after a serendipitous meeting with Cobus Joubert. A tenth-generation vintner (winemaker), Joubert gave it all up to follow his passion and make surfboards that are less toxic to the environment. He left the winelands and set up shop in Muizenberg, with a shaping bay that overlooks Surfers Corner. Besides shaping traditional alaia and wooden surfboards under his Wawa label, Cobus makes boards from reclaimed blanks, cork, hessian coffee bags, hemp cloth and bio resins. He’s even shaped a board from a blank made out of mushrooms. We didn’t know all this back then. All we knew was that Cobus’ carload of alternative craft was beautiful. He’d pulled up in the parking lot at our…

I’ve long been fascinated by big waves, and especially watching guys ride big waves. That moment when they go over the edge on those beautiful big surfboards is something that's always stood out for me. Perhaps it’s because those nine or ten feet of foam are the only thing between them and oblivion. I don’t know how it started, but I began collecting the boards they ride. Often, they get used for a season or two and then put under a deck or stuck in a garage and left there when the owner gets a new one, which seemed like a tragedy to me. The first one I scooped was John McCarthy’s board from Andy Marr’s house, a blue gun with a swallow tail. And then the boards just started…

It started with a surfboard. A custom Baron Stander thruster, that lifeguard Alvin Mtatshi ordered, paid for and gave to Ntando ‘Biggie’ Msibi, from Surfers Not Street Children. “I watched him surfing North and Dairy every day, ripping in the bowls, with his big surfboard,” says Alvin. “So I went to Baron and negotiated a good discount for the board. I was stoked to see him progress. The first air reverses he landed were on that board; and it was nice to see him going beyond, you know?” This impromptu act of kindness was a crucial turning point in the establishment of the Sisonke Surf Club. As Alvin explains: “I just wanted to see more people of colour in surf events at contests, surfing at a high level.” Today, Alvin…

"The thought of living in a wave-rich pocket of the world’s most wave-rich archipelago hardly seemed like a sacrifice, but I soon discovered what he meant." I saw the boat approaching from the horizon, travelling at a rate of knots. Even from a distance I could make out that it was a local-style longboat, and the wing-like plumes of white spray being propelled skyward indicated that its driver was redlining his two-stroke outboards. I was in a much smaller dugout, heading towards the rapidly approaching vessel. As the distance between the two boats closed, I couldn’t shake the thought that the incoming boat looked more than familiar, that it was one of our own. Then I recognised my friend Luke in the bow, frantically waving his arms and motioning at…

Like most groms growing up, I wanted to be a pro surfer. I was heavily influenced by surfers like Dane Reynolds, Jordy Smith and Julian Wilson in my late teens, but then I noticed guys like Craig Anderson, Dion Agius and Chippa Wilson forging successful careers out of free-surfing alone. Instead of competing on the tour, they were pursuing different projects and managing their careers themselves. Seeing them doing it their own way was inspiring and immediately seemed more relatable to me. The trick was, how exactly could I get there? A turning point came in 2012. I was in France at the time doing a QS, and all the Globe free-surfing guys were there working on the start of the first Strange Rumblings film. My friend and filmer, Beren…

One of my first memories is of a yacht taking shape in our back yard. It happened slowly, over the course of weeks, months and then years. I was endlessly fascinated by this elegant seafaring vessel, stranded on our lawn in Wellington, far from the ocean. And then, one day, it was set free. When my dad finally finished building the yacht, we would go to Gordon’s Bay on the weekends to sail, which is where I fell in love with the ocean and the feeling of salt air spraying in my face. Back home, his garage-slash-workroom was always occupied by some or other creation. As one of his two daughters, I took on the role of his apprentice. He didn't ha ve much say in the matter. Armed with…

As night turns to day, and day turns to night, 'normal' photography techniques stop being adequate to capture what's going on around you. Shooting flash opens up a world of new possibilities during those fleeting moments, just before it gets too dark or too light. It also extends my limited shooting time, which comes at a premium nowadays as life and commitments take their toll on hours spent in the ocean. I'm not a pioneer of flash photography by any means. It's been used to document surfing and the ocean for decades. But bringing a flash to the special places I love photographing around my hometown of East London started an epic journey of rediscovery. Suddenly, water and reefs burst with unseen life, full of wild colours and reflections. Previous…