January was a strange month on the North Shore, the buzz of John John taking the World title was still the talk of the town, the vibe to go surfing was beyond contagious as always, the only issue was... we didn't have any waves. The month started super slow with consistent yet weak 2-4ft swells lapping the shore everyday for the first 10 days of the month. As always, there is confidence in large swells that travel across the North Pacific, and mid to late January had a couple of intense systems that would directly hit the famous 7 mile miracle. The first swell was a solid one from the NW around 16 seconds, The Backdoor shootout would run the length of the swell period and allow some of North Shores finest to display their local knowledge and enjoy some world class waves at their local break. The main event of the month or even perhaps the season would happen on the 19th January, the much anticipated swell hit over night with the sound of thunderous giants unleashing their power onto the Pipeline Backdoor reef, keeping everyone awake throughout the night. At first light, you could truly see the power and spectacle that is Pipeline on its day, the worlds best surfers and underground chargers lining the beach as they size up some of the biggest and heaviest pipeline they have ridden. This swell was a little more West and much bigger in size (3-4 times overhead with occ bigger sets at 18 seconds) with 2nd and 3rd reef lighting up and also causing some chaos and carnage with endless broken boards and bruised egos washing up on tho the beach. For some riders, the day would be the best of their surfing life, Sebastian Correa scoring a WOTW contender at Backdoor that I'm still not sure if he has come out of yet! John John Florence, Josh Kerr, Koa Rothman and many more Pipeline legends were also on hand to score what could possibly be the day of the season.

• published: 23 Mar 2017
• views: 4171

In this moving and often funny documentary I supported award-winning filmmaker Sean Langan as a 2nd cameraman. Langan, who specialises in reports from some of the most dangerous parts of the world, suffered in 2008 a terrifying three-month kidnap ordeal at the hands of Afghan Talebans. Unsurprisingly, his first film since his release found him on much safer ground. African Railway is a leisurely, wryly amusing documentary in which Langan rides the ramshackle rails of the vast Tazara Express, Africa’s so-called freedom railway linking Zambia’s copper belt to Tanzania and, eventually, and significantly, to China. Once a symbol of Africa’s post-independence hopes of prosperity, the entire network is now on the brink of collapse. Lack of money means lack of fuel and parts, leading to excruciatingly lengthy delays, derailments and breakdowns. The staff are overworked and underpaid, and the whole system is overseen, after a fashion, from a rudimentary control office without direct contact with drivers – instead they have to call stations to ask whether they’ve seen any trains – and with timetables drawn by hand according to an unreliable clock. (And people complain about the trains in this country.) The finger of blame points towards the gross mismanagement and self-interest of their Chinese paymasters, who built and funded the railway shortly after independence (a portrait of Chairman Mao still hangs in Tazara’s virtually deserted headquarters). Supposedly their biggest investment in Africa, Tazara reportedly went bankrupt in 2008. Given this vast investment, it was sadly no surprise when Langan revealed that China eventually placed Tazara in the sole care of a Chinese company. Africa’s freedom railway is now anything but. With a camera strapped to his shoulder, Langan travelled alone through spectacular scenery, endless delays, and surprisingly jolly encounters with Tazara staff members, most of whom seemed to regard their predicament with varying degrees of resigned amusement. Or perhaps they were simply tickled by the genial tenacity of this displaced nosey-parker from the BBC. Langan charmed his way into various offices, carriages, homes and warehouses – full of rusting engines to provide a disbelieving overview of a crumbling edifice in the heart of paradise. For someone used to rubbing shoulders with terrorists, he must have been relieved that his biggest difficulty this time was – in scenes redolent of Nick Broomfield – gaining an audience with Tazara’s conveniently indisposed Chinese bosses. Despite their reticence to appear on camera, Langan hardly needed any more proof that China is exploiting Africa’s natural resources, just as foreign investors have done since time immemorial. A bittersweet tragedy.

• published: 08 Mar 2011
• views: 3071