Is that Black Beauty? No, just white Jordy.
After 26 hours of flying I'm power-frothing to be in Reunion on another trip with the Modern Collective crew, not to mention a surf trip to a new destination. Only problem is no one here has been here either. Mitch Coleborn, Craig Anderson, Kai Neville and Barren Hall and I are eagerly awaiting Jordy Smith's arrival like a bunch of kids waiting to tear through presents on Christmas morning.
Luckily we are situated right in front of the left at St. Leu. The pad is appropriately named Le Dodo Spot, I guess because you got to be a fucking dodo not to get to the wave.
I think the Dodo bird is like a national symbol or state bird too. Even the beer has pictures of Dodo's on them. It's pretty fun to say "dua dodos, merci".
Our total lack of French is amazing or comedic depending on how you look at it. But somehow we are still getting by on sign language, pointing and guessing. The left at St. Leu is pretty amazing. The water is crystal clear and the reef is sharp as anywhere I've ever seen. Think Restaurants on glue and you'll have an idea.
So far it's been small but smashable and uncrowded. Of course a big swell is coming on the weekend and should bring everyone out of the woodworks.
Craig Anderson and moving target.
Mitch and Craig have been surfing well and enjoying the new environment to boot. This is basically my first time shooting Mr. Anderson and to say his style is unique would be an understatement. He loves to not pump or show any kind of aggressiveness on a wave and then all of the sudden he'll come off the bottom and pop a huge frontside 3. The shit is weird.
The waves have picked up immensely today unlike our French. Jordy creeped in last night under the radar but his boards went missing like a fart in the wind. We all woke up psyching and charged out front to some sick left burgers. Jordy rode some weird four-fin fish today that someone gave him and did some irie bottom turns. He said Slater shaped him the beast.
The wave at St. Leu kept bending out to sea and gave us all a semi. Everyone wants to see the bitch do its thing and slam her. But we can't, so we wait in angst. After a second session we jumped in the Hyndaui 4 banger and tried to surf this novelty right hander. The wave was as shit as our French so we grabbed some beers and checked the other side of the jetty.
Beer in hand we jumped up on the rocks to see some goatboater (sea-kayakers) charging this mini Teahupo left-hander. The first dude air dropped six feet and pulled it. We all whistled and cheered as if one of our buddies ate shit, expecting the dude to hold up his paddle in a full jousting Braveheart salute. He looked at us and wiggled in instead.
We finished our beers and jumped in our whip to head back to St. Leu. Jordy grabbed the ipod and began to pretend-mix up a shit storm. He hit every bell and whistle perfectly on his turntable like a true champion dj (sorry I'm a heavy metal dude).
Jordy's late entry into the trip has been nothing but spectacular. I've said it before and I'll say it again, "he's my favorite surfer," and not because of his surfing. He's absolutely the raddest dude to hang out with. He's shameless, energetic, shreds, and loves to have a good time no matter what. Sign me up anytime. We are about to go out so check back tomorrow for some more juice.