Wavelength Surf Mag Ian Battrick Profile

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the future of british surfing

the future of british surfing

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WORDS AND OPENING SHOT ROGER SHARP

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Getting barrelled is what sets surfing apart from the other more X-Games friendly ‘extreme sports’. Can you think of another activity where you can get momentarily enveloped in a unique, ephemeral, mind-bendingly beautiful slice of nature? A barrel is yours and yours alone and you don’t get another run at it… Those last seven words and the pursuit of watery holes are pretty much what define Ian Battrick. Sure a lot of surfers will say they live for getting tubed- but none dedicate themselves with an almost monk like zeal to the pursuit of watery caverns like Batty. From the frigid fringes of the Arctic Ocean to the malarial mosquito ridden realms of the tropics, a good barrel is worth the effort. Fleeting as it may be, the imprint on your mind is so strong it can stay with you for life. It’s for this sensation that Batty hunts- forgoing a normal life with a mortgage, two point four children and a career. He’s far happier stuck in a storm in a near sinking dug out canoe somewhere in Indo, avoiding hungry bears in Canada or dodging earthquakes in Mexico. He is, to use a much-abused word, hardcore. If 99% of pro’s were offered accommodation in a mozzie net tent with nothing but porridge to eat for weeks on end with no photographers around do you think they would last more than a day? They’d throw the toys out of the pram, ring their managers and complain about the lack of hotel, air-con, plasmas 082

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and PS3s. You then have to ask the question- who loves surfing more? Batty is from Jersey- a forty-five square mile lump of granite that’s closer to France than England. It does get waves but the spots are easily checked from your car, tide dependant and increasingly mobbed as every mother and his dog is taking up surfing ‘cos it’s cool’ and a good way to pull chicks in the summer. This scene is not for Ian. He is very much a ‘let your surfing do the talking’ kinda guy. Not one to ‘talk a good surf’ in the pub, more than likely because he is already in bed getting some shut eye for the early. Hence he likes to leave Jersey. Getting out there, seeing and doing are key, “Because when death does come around life is going to have seemed very short. You only live once and there is a lot to experience out there”. He’s decided that, when he dies he wants to have real memories, to have experienced and lived life doing the things he loved. “Not memories of regretful decades of 9.00 to 5.00 or masses of pointless material possessions that you can’t take with you anyway. I don’t think anyone in their right mind thinks ‘shit I wish I had done a few more hours at work’, it’s more like ‘I wish I had done the things I loved, and made myself and others happy’ and they probably would do, if they had the chance all over again.” the sentiments could have come from Tyler Durden himself. Stuff is meaningless, your job is pointless- it’s

nobler to experience everything you can before your atoms get re-mingled with the universe. Not many people can avoid conformity to the norm. Batty has. He’s driven by a desire to experience what he can because he can and because of friends that never could. He lost good friends to drugs, traffic accidents and cancer… Teenage lives snuffed out before they ever got to explore the world off the rock. More recently his mother also passed on- an event which kicked his already legendary travel exploits onto a higher plane. Pushing him longer, further and harder. There’s a point where it’s not really surfing anymore- Batty is an adventurer. It’s an old fashioned word but that’s what he is. He doesn’t fly in on a chart, surf for two days, get some clips and bugger off. He goes for months at a time, lives in the local community, interacts with people, learns their ways, their respect and love. Here’s some moments from the road less travelled… Indonesia- winter 08/09 Out front is one of the best right barrels on the planet, in camp are just a few hardcore tube fiends prepared to risk cerebral malaria -the kind of malaria that can kill you in 72-hours- for a few kegs. The malaria round here is off the chart, most of the locals have it, which means contagion is likely. If that’s not enough medical help is not an option- no

Clockwise from top left: All I can say about this wave is that it is ‘somewhere’ in Norway Photo: Tim Nunn; Ian at what is probably the best righthander in the world Photo: Tim Nunn; Ian in a mossie tent somewhere in earthquake ridden western Indonesia Photo: Heno


medivacs here, get in trouble you are buggered plain and simple, no phones, radio or civilisation. Come nightfall it’s in the sweatbox tent, Ian is not one to take chances, a mate of his died of the disease from spending two weeks at the same spot. No matter how many anti malarial tablets you take the only way to make sure you don’t contract it is by avoiding getting bitten in the first place. But the barrels are worth it even with no photographers around, other than the odd Aussie who lends his camera to the local kids to shoot off sequences, and of course the awesome head cam footage, shot by Ian himself with a jerry-rigged GoPro gaffa taped to his helmet. But if the malaria wasn’t enough to sit through then there’s the quakes, and this neck of the woods is quake central. It’s not talk either, whilst sat in his tent in the middle of the night a 7.2 went off with the epicenter just a couple of miles offshore. Ian though sat through it, not wanting to risk malaria

despite the fact the building he was in was swaying from side to side and people were fleeing for safety. Higher ground is a good twenty minutes sprint away- when you’re pretty much sat on the fault the chances of escaping a tsunami are not good. A big quake was brewing and everyone knew it… The Transit- autumn 08 The white van had a cement mixer in the back as Batty test drove it on Jersey. The owner had been using it as a storage shed on site for years, with only 30k on the clock cash was exchanged same day. Two weeks later it was a fully equipped expedition vehicle, but crucially still looked like a builders van- undercover is better than making a scene. Within a month it was in Scotland and in position for some of the better barrels our islands have to offer. Despite it being essentially an old shed Ian is house proud, it’s immaculately laid out, board storage, cooking and

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Clockwise from this page: Ian’s latest invention with shaper ‘Doc’, a 5’5 pug, just poking its snoat out at perfect Thurso Photo: Tim Nunn; A gun in Canada is not for show Photo: Timmy Turner; Ian’s mobile room with a view Photo: Tim Nunn; A bear can run at 35 mph, even if you could go that fast there is nowhere to go, what’s more they tend to eat you alive starting with the buttocks! Photo: Tim Nunn 084

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sleeping are well catered for although whatever you do, do not bring any mud in. For the Transit though this was just a warm up mission, the life of a travelling surfer like Ian isn’t about quick hits, blowing money on hotels and rental cars, it’s about existing in places, getting those special days that are usually reserved for hardy locals. Thus the Transit is the ultimate vehicle for a wanderer and he took it on the ultimate mission. Leaving Jersey for France heading north east, through Belgium, Holland, Germany, Denmark and Sweden to Norway. The van was to spend the next three months

out good waves but also got involved with the local boys permanent quest for something dangerous to do, “A couple of Norwegian mates I surf with, showed me a video clip of a home made illegal free fall bridge jump they did. Most of them are into their climbing or do maintenance work on the rigs. On the drive to the bridge I found out that the rope is over 10-years old and that after seven major jolts it’s meant to be replaced. He claimed it had well over forty already, and it was about to get five more from all of us in the van! All good clean fun. The van was then driven back, mothballed as Ian left again

absolutely hosed on the best day of the season. What’s more mental is he did it for the pure selfish pleasure of getting tubed, the only reason it got documented was because there happened to be a boatload of Aussies who filmed it, and gave him a disc as he was paddling in. That random way of collecting premium rides has led to him being more visible online this year than in the mags, his helmet cam footage racked up thousands of hits and went global and was closely followed by the Kandui barrel. He sat through twenty-six earthquakes to score the left. Two weeks after Ian left Padang

The barrel he got was later declared wave of the year in Norway, covering a crazy amount of miles, checking out the potential of the unmeasurable Nordic coastline. The Transit hopped ferries, drove scarily long tunnels and cruised through the most ridiculous scenery to end up in front of some of the most remote waves in the world. Having driven to the Arctic Circle he headed back to Stavanger, an oil industry town on the same latitude as Thurso and home to consistent waves and a bunch of Norwegian mates. He lived in the van for three months, scouring

for Indo, this time for one of the best left hand barrels in the world. Kandui Island- summer 2009 Ian’s mate Jordan runs the camp there, and said come and stay when you like, so he did, wanting to score one of the best barrels in the world- Kandui left. He went solo again, no photographer or videographer just a mossie tent on the edge of the jungle overlooking the left. It’s this sort of dedication to getting places at their very best that resulted in him getting

(the port that serves the Mentawais) the city got flattened, including the hotel Ian stayed in before he flew out. The barrel he got was later declared wave of the year by camp owner Jordan, not bad considering the number of top pros that come through the area on a weekly basis. Dedication to a wave which is fickle, but perfect, paid off again. Iceland- summer 2009 48-hours after leaving Indonesia he went from sweating in a mossie tent to keeping

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Slotted in France Photo: Tim Nunn

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warm in a tent in Iceland. Exploring Iceland sums up Ian’s philosophy on travelling- having spent almost two months there, on the road in the far north to the far south, mid summer to mid winter one thing has always been constant, Ian has never slept under anything but canvas, simply wanting to immerse himself in the country, it’s waves and culture. Even when there was a foot of snow on the ground he was still camping, blizzards whipping off the sea in April straight from Greenland, it’s the only true way to experience the place. He has scoured the island for points and reefs, and although quality is fleeting, emptiness more than makes up for it and the surroundings blow minds. Canada- autumn 2009 Into the wild with Timmy Turner. They scored heaving barrels at a back-country 088

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right-hand slab. A wave so isolated that there’s no radio or phone reception. A wave so remote it drove Dane Reynolds to drink and Jamie O’Brien to try and build the Internet out of rocks. A wave shallow enough to hurt and no casualty department. But the real danger was on land. Until you’ve been close to a bear you can’t imagine the size and power of these creatures, and although they look a bit tubby they can cover ground a lot faster than you think, what’s more it was salmon season and the river beside the camp was prime feeding ground. Ian takes up the story, “We were dropped off at a spot our friend Raph has out in the middle of nowhere. Raph comes and stays whenever the swell is good. It’s way out there, a long way from civilization, no phone reception, no net, no help, no Maccas. All we said when we got dropped off was, just come back and get

us in 3-weeks please! We went there to surf and film for Timmy’s upcoming film Cold Thoughts (sequel to Second Thoughts). We drank river water and a large part of our diets was fish- salmon from the river, gooseneck barnacles from the rocks. It’s a very fickle spot, but when it works, the wave we were camping out for is just like Backdoor- just nobody out and you’re in full rubber! Even though we only had three real good days of waves in the 3-weeks we camped there, it was totally worth it, a mind blowing experience. It got pretty heavy though and on the first good day Timmy hit the reef hard at low tide, cracked a few ribs with the initial hit, before hitting his head and splitting his helmet open. Seeing as he’s had brain surgery six times after that horrendous spinal staph infection that nearly killed him it was pretty scary. You realize how far out you are when that kind

of thing happens. And the bears? Within 15-minutes of the boat leaving us there I was doing a piss just looking at the sea minding my own business, halfway through it I looked to my side for some reason and right there on the beach I had full eye contact with a bear, 5-metres away. I edged slowly back into the camp with the old boy still hanging out. Another time, when we were setting up the tarps and tents Eric looks up and a large bear was maybe 10-metres away standing upright on its back legs, one front paw leaning on a tree, like it was checking us out in a bar. Eric fires a warning shot into the air to scare it off, it doesn’t move, I’m telling him reload but in the heat of the moment he jams the shotgun chamber... with a big bear stood there. We shit ourselves, I fired the flare gun/bear banger at it and it buggered off thankfully...” These bears are serious shit too, not one


Clockwise from sequence: Not just a barrel merchant, Ian hacks the life out of a wave somewhere in Indo Photo: Pete Ash; There are many freaks of nature who enjoy a good nudie surf, but in Scotland? Batty going for a ball shrinkingly cold duck dive at Baggies Photo: Tim Nunn; Ian Battrick with Timmy Turner, Raph Bruhwiler and Eric Ramsey deep in Canada Photo: Timmy Turner; Tent life, Iceland Photo: Tim Nunn

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rofile Clockwise from below: Baggies, Ian made this place his home for a couple of autumns and has had almost as many pits out here as the local boys Photo: Tim Nunn; This is what is known as ‘chilling’ Iceland Photo: Tim Nunn; Thurso, an area Ian has spent more than a fair bit of time, the people and the waves bring him back on a yearly basis Photo: Tim Nunn

there is no wilder place to go on a surf trip than here, all for a couple of days of insane barrels

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swipe and you’re dead either, local Indians describe a bear attack as the worst way possible to die. The theory used to go that the best way to survive a bear attack was to play dead, cover your neck and the bear would lose interest. This is true with a grizzly, but a black bear, which is the predominant species on Vancouver Island will simply pin you down like a cat does a mouse and start on the choicest bits of flesh, namely the arse and lower legs. Screaming is useless, these are no cuddly toys, they are powerful 70 stone killing machines. When you know this it puts the whole experience into perspective, yep the wave is mental but the wildlife on land is as dangerous as wildlife gets. The boys didn’t have enough

time to get extra ammo either before they headed out, so to supplement their 20 rounds they purchased a contest air horn, Timmy and Batty thought it would be enough, it wasn’t! If the bears aren’t enough there were also the cougars (as in the cats not predatory older women), the difference is you never hear or see them until their teeth are clamped round your neck, but because you never see them you forget about them, well that’s the theory - “we were living mostly on fish, every night after BBQing them we’d walk a long way from the camp and throw the scraps away, one night it was dark and rainy and I threw them close by, about 1am we were all woken by a full cougar fight, on the edge of camp, over the

scraps”. What’s more every day they would see cougar tracks in the mud around the river, there is no wilder place to go on a surf trip than here, all for a couple of days of insane barrels. The Transit- present day It’s December in France, a week before Ian was sat in The Orkney Islands, now he’s outside McDonalds somewhere south of Hossegor, scabbing the free wifi to see what the chart is doing . He’d driven from Orkney to France for this, searching for a quality wave in Europe, Thurso was fun, a couple of the slabs got ridden but it’s all about sand bottomed barrels this week… This is his life. Experience. Barrels.

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Friends. Good times. Sure it’s not all rose tinted, travelling this way is hard, but the harder the travel the sweeter the reward when it comes… As a post-script a few years previous Ian spent time living within one of the most isolated indigenous tribes in Indonesia. It was a real source of awakening and

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taught the truth about ourselves. We have been taught to conform, taught to think in straight lines, to see only the visible, to imagine only little things. In our modern world, people are measured by passing things, what clothes they wear, how they look, what structure they live in, how many possessions they have collected,

As you read this Ian is back in Indo, in the earthquake zone enlightenment. Gaining an insight into their lives and traditions and making him stop to think what was really going on in his. “Following a 60-year old shaman on jungle treks, he explained (through a translator) how they use the jungle for everything from food to medicine.” It made me realise the futility of our own consumer generation. “They ‘Live in the now and celebrate the wonder of life here at this moment. They believe it’s destructive to imagine happiness exists in the future, but that it’s born here this instant, now, that we don’t need to wait.’ It outlined how rarely we have been 092

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where they live, what colour they are. These are so irrelevant but can distract people for whole lifetimes…” Pretty profound for a man that also reckons everyone should surf naked at least once in their lives… As you read this Ian is back in Indo, in the earthquake zone, back on the dug out canoe, porridge and mossie tent program. Crossing his fingers he can dance around the edge of earthquakes yet again… All so he can get tubed. Give us your feedback, email us. feedback@wavelengthmag.co.uk

Top to bottom: Punting in Indo Photo: Sharpy; Where ever I lay my hat (sleeping bag) that’s my home, in this case under a truck in Canada Photo: Tim Nunn; framegrab: For more on Ian head on over to wavelengthmag.co.uk. There you will find epic movies from Indo (like the wave above) and some crazy bridge jumping in Norway plus all the shots we couldn’t fit in the mag


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