A critical accessory for any well-dialed surf rig
Get a changing bucket. Your wetsuit will thank you. Your car’s interior will thank you. And most importantly, your coworkers that you grab lunch with will thank you.
An underbite of World Champion caliber
The additional weight of his jaw adds anywhere from 6 to 8 gallons of spray to his turns.
Yet another reason to avoid duckdiving
Smells good. Put it in dry hair, and it kind of gives you that post-surf look. What could be better?
The sound is great and there's a bro in the box
Combine a long-lasting battery with a rugged rubber exterior and you have a speaker system perfect for long summer days on the beach. When you power the Blaster down and the bro in the box says “See ya later,” you actually want to believe him.
Just wax it and go
You can’t lay into a testosterone-rich man hack without a stomp pad, right? Wrong! How can you be so daft?
They fold, and how!
This is no place for fashion advice, but we can’t help but to extoll the virtues of these sunglasses. They fold up, not like the standard "hook ‘em in your collar” fold, but more like a multi-hinged, MacGyver, gotta go, life on the run, front-pocket type of operation.
Roomy, classy, tank-like. What's not to love?
With dedicated care, they run forever. Dane Reynolds even drives one. If it's good enough for him, it's good enough for you. SURFER approves.
Your wax belongs on your board, not melted into your trunk
It's a rectangular plastic box big enough for one bar of wax. Brilliant.
From Vince in North Shore to Subotai in Conan the Barbarian, Mr. Pipeline had range
In the surf world, we knew Lopez was legit on the silver screen after his complex and deeply nuanced portrayal of a steely Hawaiian local named “Vince” in the 1987 classic North Shore. His brooding performance wasn’t enough to get the nod from the academy, but it was more than enough to make him the greatest professional surfer/actor to ever live.
A tribute to SURFER Mag's founder, who worked his way to a dream job
This is how it’s supposed to be. Any job with the word “surf” in the description—especially founder and editor of SURFER magazine—ought to allow a three-hour workday, the wearing of flip-flops and trunks at work, and a chance to escape the office when T-Street is firing.