"They are artists driven by obsession, prepared to suffer and sacrifice in pursuit of their art."
For most of us, when we think of big waves - those tall, heavy and unforgiving slabs - we see in our minds' eye the glorious breaks of California, South Western Australia, Hawaii or Tahiti, giants every one of them. They're given fittingly domineering names such as Teahupoo (or 'broken skulls'), Mavericks or Jaws, names that give the passing surfer, despite his casual bravado, something to think twice about - if his eyes and racing heart haven't done so already.
There exists, though, a small circle of people, a collection of men driven by something deep within, something that most of us would love to have but really don’t - a kind of salt water ‘right stuff’ - for whom big and heavy conjures images of an altogether different place: the west coast of Ireland. In Winter, a small stretch of Atlantic-facing coastline provides an unpredictable and seemingly random selection of waves with the scale, power and weight that can comfortably compete with what the rest of the world has to offer. That they are named Aileen’s, Lauren’s, and Riley’s conceals their brutal nature behind a veil of charm. The names are an act of deceit perpetrated by a twisted sensibility. There is nothing human or approachable about these waves. When they decide the time is right, up they rear, as if from nowhere, like the malevolent but hypnotically beautiful monsters that they are.
The chaos of the North Atlantic meeting Irish coastline makes forecasting next to impossible. Technology might offer two or three days notice to the touring surfer in other parts of the world, but Irish forecasting means getting up in the dark, taking a perilous hike and staring out at the sea from the cliffs that tower 700 sheer feet over the action. What you see is what you get. What you lose in predictability you certainly gain in the natural drama of an ancient landscape acting as the final barrier to the progress of waves that have travelled across the Atlantic with intent.
Fergal Smith, Tom Lowe and Mickey Smith are three of the aforementioned men, part of that small circle. More than just athletes, they are Artists driven by obsession, prepared to suffer and sacrifice in pursuit of their art. While they can surf almost anywhere they choose, they have made it their purpose to pioneer and push ahead, to overcome these Irish waves through the long Winter, to feel out what is possible and then do the seemingly impossible. While every surfer who resolves to tackle the world’s big waves risks his or her life, there are few places that compare to Ireland when it comes to reminding us that nature holds all the cards.
Though these waves have crashed against Ireland's coast for unimaginable eons, Mickey was the first to see their potential and set events in motion. Now they are being respectfully pioneered by Fergal and Tom. Mickey documents their progress: it's good, bad and - at times - ugly.
Relentless are proud and privileged to document this Winter trial, to share a story of three remarkable and united young men extending the meaning of courage and dedication in one of the most beguiling, magnificent and deadly locations that could ever play host to the surfer.
Not logged in (Log in through The Community / Facebook / Twitter )