2005 North Shore Week In Review: 11-11-05 to 11-18-05

Helloha, and welcome back to the circle of life, the place where all things surf return unto to themselves to be consumed, absorbed, destroyed and reborn again. The Alpha Male and the Omega Pi. The reef bounce low and the rodeo high. Where it's always perfect and totally sketchy, the heaven and the hell, the sweet hello and the big bad goodbye. Welcome to the SURFING Magazine's North Shore Week In Review, Episode One.

WHO ARRIVED: Hit the reset button. All pros to full power. Every house cleaned and stocked. Everybody somewhat shaven and relatively sober. The blue zone is for immediate loading and unloading only. The white zone is for immediate paddling and breath holding. Thanks you for paying $12 for a snack pack and $160 for your boardbag, and welcome to Hawaii. Everybody's here – the top {{{100}}} WQS surfers, the cream of the WCT and all da boys for da udder islands; everyone except for a seven-celebrating Mr. Slater and an injured-foot Taj Burrow. Slates says he'll be here for Sunset, and Taj is hoping to be healed in time for the Rip Curl Pipe Masters. (OK, the legendy type guys like to stroll in a bit later, but they'll be here soon enough too. And then it's really everybody.)

WHO LEFT: About fifteen mainlanders and Aussies just scrambled from the lineup Pipe down to Off the Wall or up to Ehukai after some local heavy just totally snapped, freaking out on the entire pale-skinned lineup for crowding his home wave. But aside from that, what, leave the island? Are you crazy? We just got here.

WHAT WAVES: The Aleutian juice has been loose all week. So much waves there's no way to even begin describing the ridiculous weeklong super-session looping itself on unending playback. Dane Reynolds started the week with a massive Second Reef double barrel. Andy Irons has been saddling ridiculous shacks for breakfast, lunch and dinner (he's also got a nice little pile of broken boards building up in front of his house – down to, like, 28 or something. Time to reorder?). Tamayo Perry, oh yeah. Jason Frederico, definitely. Jason Shibata, bombed from here to boo-yah. Kieren Perrow, over and over and over again. Jamie O'Brien spinning and flipping and tripping the freak side to switchstance to what-the-hell-was-that. Mark Healy broke his gun, got another, broke that, then paddled out on his 5'10" (this is on one of the macking Second Reef days, mind you) and got absolutely pitted off his keister. Pipe's been varying degrees of non-stop all week. Which means everywhere else is going on, too. Mick Fanning wrote his name on Off The Wall – it's his now, don't touch it. Jack Johnson and Team Roxy have been getting cruisy up at Rockies and Poops all week. Girls all laughing, riding longboard double and goofing off in the no-stress lineup. Waimea was even breaking for a couple days. Basically, if you're here, you're getting waves.

INJURIES: Kekoa Becalso lost his Op Pro heat when a nasty little reef-slash bled him so dry he said he felt dizzy paddling back in, and Phil MacDonald chomped his own lip so that blood was drooling down his face when he reached the shore. But the worst incident so far happened to Pipeline hellman Tamayo Perry, when a loose-lipped board cracked him in the skull while he was charging down the line of a Second Reef paycheck. Peeled his skull from ear to ear (around the back) and got him emergency rushed to the hospital, where he received 40 staples and license to kill the next idiot who ditches his board in the lip. Aside from that (as if it weren't enough), the week's been relatively injury free; surprising, consider all what's been going on 'round here. Maybe it's that there's still a bit of sand left on the reef. Maybe it's just nature's way of lulling folks into complacent couragousness. Don't get cocky, boys. Let's keep the blood off the sand this year.

NIGHTLIFE: This bit gets a little fuzzy…let's see if we can {{{recall}}}. Everyone's just so excited to be here, seems like anywhere you go someone's passing out a flier for the next big deal. Roxy hosted a huge bash at Waimea Falls last Friday night, commemorating 50 excitement-free years of women's surfing (oh, just kidding, girls, you know you rip), with every legend from Margo Oberg and Linda Benson to Lisa Andersen and Sofia Mulanovich on hand to give a toast or at least shotgun a tall-boy. The after-party moved down to Haleiwa Joe's, where someday women's champ Keala Kennelley was DJ-ing to the dirty dancing late-night crew. Then there was that loaded scum-lord from "Girls Gone Wild" hosting his (you guessed it) "Girls Gone Wild Night" at Joe's later in the week, with some sorta bikini contest, wet t-shirt, "show us your gear"-type contest making all the guys both blind and crazy. Next day the girls really went wild when Chelsea Georgeson won the Roxy Pro at Haleiwa and, of course, Roxy had to throw a big bash at their house, which always tends to turn into some sort of North Shore man-magnet. Woah, there was lots else going on…barbecues, poker nights, midnight runs to town for some late night sushi, you name it. But then again, with the surf so good, lotta guys just stayed home and got some sleep. Sounds cheesy, until you're getting shacked at dawn – now that's a killer buzz.

SCARY SHARK STORY: Did you here about the fifteen footer that did a little fly-by down at Lani's? What do you mean you don't want to? OK, fine.

CRAZY FRICKIN' ANECDOTE: Two nights back there was a serious rash of pro surfer shootings. Luckily it was only paint. That's right, publicity stunt heaven never ceases to amaze. This year, it was pro surfer paintball wars, with a $1200 bounty and DVD players to all the winners, the five-man assassin squad from Spy Optics. Nice shooting, boys. The highlight was the after-war free-for-all, where everyone unloaded their guns for five minutes on each other. Plenty welts in the lineup the next morning.

LOCAL SERVICES: Joel Parkinson has been offering a babysitting service. Got a kiddie pool filled up on the beach and the tadpoles are loving it. What a good daddy. Tom Whitaker will break your board for you if you need that. He broke most of his in a single session, just to prove the point. And if you need your reef scrubbed, just ask your nearest boogie – this froth squad will pull into anything; and they'll have it done before you're even awake.

What? What else? Come on, brah, only first week, and it's still miles and miles of sunshine and surf even as we try to write this. Kauai-boy Dustin Barca just did a turn at Backdoor that makes this whole page seem somehow irrelevant. Michael Ho's out there getting every other wave. Oh, no, Occy just paddled out and everyone's giggling at calling him Mark Occ-chalupo. It's still going and going, and there's plenty left. The swell charts are starting to show some bruising again, so paddle hard, don't back off no matter what and if all else fails, just go limp.

See you at the bottom of everything. Mall-hollow.