Mick Fanning (above)

With the World Tour moving to a “one-world” ranking system, the recent dismissal of head judge Perry Hatchet, and now the announcement of a pro junior tour, the ASP’s definitely been undergoing a metamorphosis this offseason. And while the inner workings of the tour are being tinkered with, some of the surfers are noodling with their own game.

For the last week a crew that includes world champ Mick Fanning, Jordy Smith, Michel Bourez, Sofia Mulanovich, and Sally Fitzgibbons, to name a few, have been posted up in Lennox Head, NSW, for Red Bull’s inaugural “Project Air.” As it’s title would indicate, the first-of-its-kind training camp is solely dedicated to helping hone their above-the-lip prowess.

“I’m psyched, the future of surfing is definitely going to be more about fully, functional aerials and functional air combinations,” said Jordy on the first day.

read more at ESPN

In 1999, a New Zealand doctor named Dave Jenkins went on a surf trip to the Mentawai Islands in Indonesia. This in no way made him special. The Mentawais are still something of a haven for surfers — clusters of epic warm-water waves are packed into a small area that most surfers, including Jenkins, access by way of luxury charter. But in 1999, the Mentawais served as the latest Shangri-La of surf travel.

But even if the Mentawais were a popular destination, almost no surfers left their boats and went ashore on their trips. Jenkins did, and what he saw profoundly altered the course of his life and the lives of the people he encountered.

What he saw forced Jenkins, once a wealthy medical professional, to ditch his life and found a nonprofit called SurfAid International. SurfAid, whose U.S. offices are in Encinitas, is celebrating its 10th anniversary this year.

Read full story at signonsandiego

WE were less than 30 minutes from our destination of Robertsport, home to Liberia’s nascent surfing scene, and gliding along what one local had accurately described as “the best dirt road in the country,” when my driver, Andrew, and I got into a loud and boisterous fight.

“Whooo? People live on that mountain?” Andrew said incredulously, after I’d idly commented that it might be nice to have a vacation house on Grand Cape Mount. He whistled at the Western nonsense I was spouting after living 25 years in the United States. “No way,” he said. “Not in Liberia. You’ve been in America too long. People will only go to the mountain to make witch or talk to their ancestors.” To drive home his point, Andrew pulled over to ask a man walking along the road his opinion.

Sigh. Next to us stretched Lake Piso, the 40-square-mile, drop-dead beautiful oblong lake that dominates western Liberia, near the Sierra Leone border. Just ahead loomed the lushly green — and in Andrew’s eyes, ominous — Grand Cape Mount, the last natural landmark between us and the big waves at Robertsport. The waves that I would be examining to see whether Liberia, my birth country, could transform itself from poster child for West Africa’s wretched civil wars to travel posters for West Africa’s best surfing.

read full story at NYTIMES