Where in the world is Dane Reynolds?
By: Dane Reynolds
Dane Reynolds has been quiet of late. His usual subtle and relaxed approach to publicity replaced by an almost total absence from the visible spectrum of the surfing world. This has been compounded by the recent announcement by Dane that his Marine Layer website as we knew it had run its course. Whether it is re-incarnated in another form will be revealed in time, but without what was essentially the only place Dane’s fans could hope to see him doing what we all want to see Dane doing – destroying waves with maximum abandon – the question being asked is, where in the world is Dane Reynolds?
In an attempt to find the answer, Tracks put pen to paper and began correspondence with everyone’s favourite Venturan. In order to get an idea of where he’s at, we threw Dane a bunch of different topics and asked him for a paragraph or two on each.
An initial reply from Dane assured us the answers were coming, but then Dane did what he does and seemingly vanished. That was until hours before this magazine was due to be sent to print, when we received a message that read, “hey guys, sorry I’m on the eleventh hour kooking it. Sending it over in one hour. I swear. hahah ferreal!”
Keeping us guessing Dane, that’s why we love you.
Tasmanian surfers are patient or mad or both. The island state is littered with waves – points, reefs, slabs, wedges, beachies, bomboras – but most are fickle or frustrating or frightening. Challenges loom like dolerite columns. Access roads are dirt or pot-holed or non-existent. The ocean is a ruffled aggressor – cold enough to shatter your teeth and freeze your kidneys. The weather blows wild and reckless and ever-changing. Yachts sink. Hikers get lost in Middle-earthian forests. Four seasons scud by in one hour. You’re toasting, you’re cold, you’re hypothermic, you’re bolting from a bushfire. It’s awesome.
At least these are the stories and impressions that make it sputtering and wild-eyed across Bass Strait. We hear about a Forest War that has chain-sawed the state in half. We’re told about clean air, world-class whiskey, ancient forests and breath-stealing scenery in boundless national parks. But also about high unemployment, limited opportunities and stagnant growth. It is an island of contrasts and contradictions. A land of devils (real) and angels (maybe) with a dark history and an uncertain future. Most especially it’s a place where wilderness and adventure are an everyday reality for the hardy local surfing fraternity.
Adriano De Souza is sitting in the Merewether line-up, visibly flustered. With two minutes till the start of the heat, he’s frantically looking for Matt Banting, his semi-final opponent. “Andy King had worked with Adriano and knew that he always likes the inside position at start of heat,” Matt tells Tracks from Hawaii. “We figured if he didn’t know where I was, he won’t be able to get the inside and he’d start thinking about me rather than surfing the heat. So I paddled out way round the corner and waited. It took me an extra 10 minutes or so, but later I heard he was a bit rattled, so it may have worked.”