Taj Burrow, Jay Davies, Dino Adrian, and John Respondek dig into the bone-blasted outback of Western Australia.

In TSJ 28.6, we journey to the northern deserts of Western Australia to set up camp and hunt for slabs with surfers Taj Burrow, Jay Davies, Dino Adrian, and photographer John Respondek. Two weeks in the dirt saw sharks circle the jet ski, a caravan nearly blown off its hinges, reptile skin, and cell service anxiety. And a plethora of ramps and tubes, of course.

Watch the above video for some in-motion highlights and photographic outtakes of the trip, as well as narration by Burrow himself. And hit the subscribe button to the right to get the issue and deep-dive into the trip.

Cinematography by Wyatt Davies and Tom Jennings. Photography by John Respondek. Edit by Nathan Myers.



An inside look at Jack Coleman’s latest film.

Jack Coleman recently released ZONE FREQUENCY, which claimed Best Picture at both the Florida Surf Film Festival and the London Surf Film Festival.

We asked Coleman to share his favorite section of the film, and give some personal insights into why it means so much to him. To watch the full film, click here. To learn more about the filmmaker, hit the subscribe button to the right to read his profile from TSJ 28.4.

Watch Torren Martyn take a 6’6″ channel-bottom twin-fin to task at Jeffreys Bay, excerpted from his feature film, Thank You Mother.

“As daylight broke on an icy winter morning in August of 2017,” writes Jed Smith in his profile of Torren Martyn, “Go Along If You Like,”  in TSJ 28.5, “Martyn found himself on the beach at Jeffreys Bay, enjoying a rare moment of perfect alignment. In front of him was six to eight feet of groomed Indian Ocean swell, bending and bowling down the point. Behind him, his surrogate family—filmmaker and best mate Ishka Folkwell, and mentor and shaper Simon Jones—watched on. Under his arm was six feet and six inches of experimental, channel-bottomed twin-fin—a board he felt had the power to radically change the trajectory of his surfing.

“After navigating the keyhole, he sat wider and farther out than the pack until a set wave approached. Crouched low on the descent with his feet close together, he squirted off the bottom like a banana out of a peel into a high-line trim. With a deft adjustment of his stance, he then buried a cutback—equal shades of Michael Peterson’s classic Kirra carve off the top and, as he cut down the face into another bottom turn, Tom Curren’s seminal second wave at that very spot.

“The sequence appears as the opening scene in Thank You Mother, Martyn and Folkwell’s feature film, which is comprised mostly of footage from their month-long stint at J-Bay. It’s an exhilarating and improbable piece of surfing—a single turn that spans generations, connects the gods, and blends beauty and performance.

“‘You see a lot of guys pulling in here on all sorts of boards and they don’t surf the wave to its, or to their, full potential,’ says Deon Lategan, a photographer who has shot and surfed alongside pretty much every well-known surfer you can think of at J-Bay. ‘But Torren’s boards never hindered him. They only worked in his favor. We all enjoyed watching him surf. So much flow, yet there was also the critical aspect.’”

Click here to watch Thank You Mother in full.


A short film featuring TSJ profile subject Josie Prendergast around home in New South Wales, directed by Nathan Oldfield.

In TSJ 28.5 writer Phil Jarratt takes stock of social media influence and engagement as it continues to shape modern surfing by profiling light-footed cross-stepper Josie Prendergast’s surfing life in Byron Bay and her deep-rooted family ties to the Phillipine island of Siargao. 

Check out “The Dew of Little Things,” a short film by Nathan Oldfield featuring Prendergast’s graceful approach, free of likes and follower count, close to home in New South Wales. For more on Josie, hit the subscribe button to pick up a copy of the new issue. 


A documentary preview that looks into the burgeoning Cuban surf and skate communities.

“Cuba isn’t particularly known as a surf mecca,” writes Jacob Oster in his piece, “Revolución Continuó,” in TSJ 28.4. “Without official numbers to reference, a broad estimate of the amount of surfers in the country ranges from about 80 to 150. Compared to its 11.48 million citizens, wave riders are an extremely small minority, perhaps one of the smallest minorities in the entire country.

“Foreigners introduced surfing to the locals in the early 1990s, which is to say that it’s still very much in its infancy on the island. Aside from a few legitimate surf spots toward the eastern tip and a handful of hurricane setups near the greater Havana area, the majority of the known waves along the country’s 3,570 miles of coastline are more novelty than reasons to travel there.

“Nevertheless, Cuba’s waves are unique. Take Marina Hemingway, named after the writer who spent so many years in Cuba, which grinds and thumps against the concrete wall of the harbor. Or Baracoa Bay, which wedges off the rusted, tetanus-ridden hull of an old shipwreck. According to the New York Times, around 95 percent of Cubans have participated in a form of organized sport or exercise in their lifetimes. The country has famously produced some of the world’s best baseball players and boxers.

“But surfing and skateboarding are viewed differently than traditional sports in Cuba. The government has categorized them as pointless, renegade activities—nuisances. As such, there is zero acknowledgment or support from the regime and no financing for surf teams or contests. Since commerce is regulated by the government, there are also no surf shops to sell boards, fins, wax, or resin.”

Check out the trailer for the accompanying documentary project Surf Cuba above, and head to surfcuba.io to watch the full film, and to get more information and looks at the Locals Project.

Watch the still frames from TSJ 28.4’s profile on Jack Coleman come to life full motion and saturated color.

Single-fin hard jibes. Surf mat speed lines. The Wizard Hynd. For the last decade and through half-a-dozen independent surf movie releases, Jack Coleman has occupied a position of synthesis among some of surfing’s most creative, aesthetically poised, and conceptually re-inventive groovers and shakers.

“Applying tints and animation to inventive perspectives,” writes Dodge Weirath in his profile of the filmmaker in TSJ 28.4, “Coleman loosely ties image and sound, allowing psychedelic tracks to bridge separate segments, which breaks viewers’ expectations of how a surf movie should be made. Whereas other filmmakers display only the best waves, Coleman’s debut movies present an unprecedented yet tasteful exposition of reality. Not every wave is perfect, not every surfer shreds all the time. Searching for trim is a storyline in and of itself in his films, and one all surfers can relate to.”

In this 3-minute highlight reel, the filmmaker provides full lo-fi motion to his still frames featured in the new issue of TSJ. To learn more about Coleman and his work, and to see his motion films peak moments frozen in time on ink and paper, pick up your copy of 28.4.

Watch an extended look into Andrew Kidman and Ellis Ericson’s recent film and book project.

“The Greenough edge board,” writes Steve Shearer in his piece, “On the Edge of a (Fever) Dream,” in TSJ 28.4, “is best understood as a multi-hull with multiple planing surfaces. The heart of the board is a central, scooped-out area (the center plane) circumscribed by a raised edge, which forms an interior outline of the board. Surrounding the edge is another concave surface that joins a rounded rail, forming the outline of the deck.

“The first impression upon handling one is of a dizzying array of planing surfaces and rocker curves. As test pilot, shaper, and protagonist of On The Edge of A Dream, Ellis Ericson told me: ‘There are essentially three rocker curves—the deck curve, the edge curve, and the center-line curve.’ You can see why surfers would balk at the complexity of the hull. It requires, as Greenough said, ‘a higher state of consciousness’ to ride.

“He gave me the overview of the theory while reclined on an old couch on his veranda. The Spoon begat his edge board design in 1967, he outlined, a child of both the boat design theory he was versed in, and a desire to develop a craft with higher top-end speed in more marginal conditions compared to the power-hungry Spoon. The idea, said Greenough, was to substantially reduce the wetted surface and thus reduce drag. ‘It’s common sense,’ he said. ‘Reduce the wetted surface and you increase the top-end speed.’

“For Ericson, the techniques and concepts were ultimately mind altering. His immersion in the design began when Dave Rastovich took him by Greenough’s place while Greenough was building a new 6’8″ gun. The experience, which Ericson describes as a “head fuck,” rattled him. Then in a shaping bay in Bali, he carved out a three-board quiver of edge boards, consisting of a chopped square single-fin, a twin, and a thruster all based on the Greenough concepts.

“This initial Ericson quiver, which was brought to the attention of Andrew Kidman by Morning of the Earthcreator Alby Falzon, was the catalyst for Kidman’s On The Edge of A Dreamproject. The film and accompanying book chart the Greenough edge board concept from its inception to the present, specifically focusing on four years of intense testing and development by Kidman and Ericson. It’s half Morning of the Earth, a delicious, visual poem in shimmering North Coast point surf, and half The Right Stuff, test pilots pushing the edge of the performance envelope on radical designs in oceanic waves instead of the air above the Mojave Desert.

“‘In the future,’ says Kidman, ‘every surfer on the planet will have some edge element at play in what they end up riding.’”

Checkout the trailer above for visual highlights. Both the film and book iterations of On the Edge of a Dreamare available at ontheedgeofadream.org.

And to read more from Shearer’s piece, subscribe to the Journal.

A West African video diary.

In TSJ 28.3, brothers Julian and Joaquin Azulay long-haul down the western coast of Africa in an outfitted Unimog truck in search for untapped surf. Along the way, they share tajine with a Bedouin in Western Sahara, are detained by the military in Ivory Coast, and pick up the African Flu in the Republic of the Congo, amongst other high and low points in between waves.

Check out the clip above for live-action highlights from the trip, excerpted from their forthcoming film African Territory. For a more detailed look into the bumps and stops on the road and wave-rich encounters, pick up a copy of 28.3 to read the “South from Gibraltar: A West African diary.”

An Afrobeat experiment with Michael February.

In TSJ 28.2, surfer Michael February, writer and filmmaker Sam Smith, photographer Alan Van Gysen, and cinematographer Wade Carroll land in West Africa to explore the local music scene, plus the rhythms and pacing of a sand-bottom point wave.

Check out Nu Rythmo, a short film by Smith and Carroll, for the motion and sonic documentations of the escapade.

And pick up a copy of TSJ 28.2 to read about their rotation though West Africa.

“He glides under the radar and is happy to let his work speak for itself. But he’s one of the best surf photographers in the world.”

Nate Lawrence built a career around documenting core elements of the disparate surf nuclei in Santa Cruz and Bali. He then went to work with Surfing and What Youth magazines and, on related film and print projects, dove deep with the likes of Kai Neville, Dane Reynolds, Craig Anderson, and others of similar ilk to document a mix of cutting-edge surfing and candid moments in and out of the water.

We set aside 22-pages of the current issue to showcase his photos. The short biopic above by Blake Myers puts some additional flesh on the bones of Lawrence’s work.

To read and see more, pick up a copy of TSJ 28.1 or subscribe.

An Aussie fireman epitomizes the required mindset of the true slab hunter.

In TSJ 27.6, author Jed Smith chronicles the career of Australian hellman and fire fighter Justen “Jughead” Allport.

The profile ranges from Jug’s early days at a wave called Crackneck, to his rise as a professional surfer, to his current-stage vocations splitting time between slab hunting and putting out structure fires. It also charts how, in a particularly dark moment, Allport used surfing to cope with the suicide of his brother.

To read more, pick up a copy of the issue. (We’re sold out so you might have to scour the newsstand at your local surf shop). And to see more of Allport’s story, settle in for the vid above.