sitd x

We just wrapped Kelly Slater for Stab in the Dark X. Our 10-year anniversary. The crown jewel of our projects — and the one our audience reveres most.

And who better to lead it than the surfer with the highest surfboard IQ on the planet?

Wrapped. Backed up. In the can.

I’ve spent most of my career convincing surfers to give us a seat at their table — and convincing our audience we belonged at theirs. This project? It was the table. Ours, theirs, yours.

Kelly said yes. And then everything got harder.

Kelly Slater has been asked for things — photos, favors, signatures, stories — every single day for over four decades. He’s learned to be evasive, fluid, slippery by design. He shows up when he wants, how he wants.

Given his schedule, his suggestion was that we shoot the project at the soon-to-be-opened Abu Dhabi wave pool. Pools are better to surf than to watch, but for this project, the consistent playing field made sense. We were happy to make concessions to make it happen — a tight shooting window, repetitive canvas, and the opportunity to have shapers on-site and mic’d up for real-time feedback. We also floated the idea of a two-day live event, with two-hour broadcasts each day.

We met with Kelly’s manager, Terry Hardy, and started to lock things in. Terry is one of those guys who rules the scene without being seen — and you understand why Kelly has worked with him for so long. He’s friendly, understated, and highly efficient.

We had pool bookings lined up, but other plans clashed with Kelly’s schedule. There was talk of shooting in September this year at the new Austin Surf Club in Texas.

Then Kelly suggested Krui, in southern Sumatra — a zone with peaky beachbreaks, a Teahupo’o-like left, and plenty of other options. We were ecstatic. Surfing this project in the ocean is what our audience wants.

Nate Lawrence spotted a swell, and we had a window booked for Krui in April — but it clashed with Kelly’s receiving his Laureus Lifetime Achievement Award in Madrid, Spain.

Then Kelly needed to bring his family to Australia.

Eventually, Kelly pointed to May as his shooting window. Indonesia has historically delivered the best results for this project, but our dates fell perfectly between swells. We discussed Fiji, but the boards were too small for Cloudbreak, and Restaurants is a wildcard for board testing, in my opinion. I also foresaw our team staying on the mainland while Kelly stayed on Tavarua — meaning we’d likely miss impromptu sessions.

And talking swells over text is very different from booking plane tickets. We still have PTSD from an unfinished Electric Acid Surfboard Test that never saw the light of day. Anyone who’s worked with Kelly has stories. When our team was set up on the hill at Snapper Rocks, Steph Gilmore walked past and joked: “Guys, is this episode two or three of Waiting for Kelly Slater?”

One of surfing’s great rivalries is Kelly and Andy Irons. When filming Fly in the Champagne, Andy arrived at Kandui and had to wait two days for Kelly. As he does, Kelly showed up with the swell.

Kelly has been peppered with requests for 40+ years. Can you imagine waking up every day to people asking for something from you?

While we were on production, I heard this line at least six times a day:

“I don’t want to interrupt, but I just have to [insert story about wife/son/brother/dying relative]…”

—before pulling out an iPhone or something to sign, mid-conversation or mid-interview.

School buses pull up with kids banging on windows. People produce decade-old Firewires to be signed. “Slats!” “Slater!” “THE GOOOOOAAAAAT!” from passing cars. It’s relentless.

My observation is: Kelly is noncommittal on almost everything. No firm start times. No firm end times. Life is built fluidly, so he can pivot on a whim and surf when he wants. The most specific time you’ll ever get is: morning, lunch, or afternoon.

Of course, some commitments are locked — awards shows, heat start times, flights.

But he’s unpredictable. This year, he missed both the Backdoor Shootout and The Eddie. But then I saw him at the OuterKnown booth at Surf Expo in Orlando.

Dealing with a scrappy outfit like Stab is tricky for someone like Kelly. He’s not about to miss a tee time. He’s not jeopardizing a Breitling contract. If he skips a heat, the tour keeps rolling. But with us? There are no levers. We’re not paying him. We’ve got no chips at the table. 

Yes, we have boards from the best shapers in the world — but Kelly can call any of them anytime (and strangely almost never has). Does this help his core audience? Definitely. But his career doesn’t shift because of this project.

To mark the occasion, we aimed higher — an Annie-Leibovitz-for-Vanity-Fair-style shoot with the board builders. In the studio. Lit. Styled. Interviewed. No hats. No ears tucked. We wanted the boards and shapers to have gravity.

We also hoped the images would underscore the weight of the project for Kelly.

Over three days, we recorded ten hours of interviews — covering careers, craft, and philosophy.

May on Australia’s east coast is known as Magic May: warm water, solid swells, and often, all-day offshores.

As the Tasman started lighting up, I asked:

Should we just shoot here, at the most documented coast in the world?

Should we just surf the Goldy?

The texts went back and forth. One stuck.

“My body is fooked,” Kelly texted.

That was my in.

Kelly has scoliosis. Mine’s worse. He has hip pain. I had Birmingham resurfacing. I used to wear a back brace. I could barely walk. But I’ve been doing Functional Patterns training three times a week for five years. I’m pain-free.

I knew this could help him like it helped me.

The challenge? I’m deeply self-conscious about the training. Most exercises look like memes. It’s parody material.

Forty-eight hours later, I’m shirtless in a gym next to a shirtless Kelly Slater. We’re doing the session together over facetime with my trainer, Tim. The terminology is confusing, so I’m relying on my trainer’s cues.

At one point, Kelly’s on all fours, and I’m all-up-in-his-shit, tapping his sternum with an index finger to help him inflate the right area. 

I’ve drawn the blinds.

Mick Fanning sticks his head in.

“What’s going on here?”

I’ve never wanted to disappear more. Mick bails.

Kelly and I take turns under Tim’s guidance. I’m grimacing through a set and Kelly deadpans:

“You look like a little kid who’s really angry.”

FML.

Forty minutes later, we’re in the sauna talking crypto and American politics.

Forty more, we’re doing the surfboard reveal and shaper guessing game near D-Bah.

Another forty, and he’s surfing a three-foot beachbreak on the Sharp Eye.

After two years of planning, false starts, and near-misses – Stab in the Dark X had begun.