Mikey Brennan Confronts A Foam Blizzard, Shipstern’s Bluff

“When we rocked up in the boat we knew it was going to be huge.” Recounts lensman Alasdair Shurman of the Tasmanian expedition. “The trip around had left us soaked head to toe. Fifteen foot-plus swell was smashing into the cliffs, sending six foot of swell back out to sea. The first wave we saw was massive and perfect, one of the best I’ve seen down there. The rest were evil, triple-ledge beasts that were going to be frighteningly consequential if someone lets go of the rope.”

Mr Shurman and friend Alex Zawadzki, bobbing about in their modestly-sized abalone craft, watched the lineup take turns in the rogue conditions before an exceptionally large mass appeared. Mikey didn’t hesitate once as he was promptly whipped into what was clearly tipping the ceiling of what the reef could handle. The bomb pushed unusually wide, catching the spectators dangerously off-guard.

“A few frames before and it was a cascading, surging mess. He was arched over his board, bottom-turning, straining on the tow straps, summoning every last drop of focus and strength to stay upright. At this point I had one eye in the viewfinder, the other calculating where we’d end up if this thing hits the boat. Mikey held it right to the end before it swallowed him into oblivion. We lost sight of him as the tinny and the other skis scrambled to assure our own safety. It was a scene I’ll never forget!”