Just 30 miles apart, two women’s events were running simultaneously, one in diamond-strewn Honolua with a slack-key guitar on the breeze, the other one on the Pe’ahi knuckle a half mile out to sea, the ocean black, the sky leaden, the swell building and doubling up on the ledge. Jaws looked horrific.
Layne Beachley is currently hiking through the Tasmanian wilderness – maybe a coincidence, maybe not – but surely at the very moment the hooter went and Steph was now also a seven-time world champion, Layne stopped for a second, a crow cawed, and Layne began thinking how many QS events it might take to requalify.
He had a colour line for everything – “If this is the humans versus the dragons, the dragons would be winning right now” – but he made sense of the lineup for everyone watching, interpreting swell direction and lineup markers and what was actually going on for those of us who haven’t surfed 50-foot Jaws.
Read more here: Surfer Mag