Welcome to the 3rd edition of The Bodyboard Report! 🤙

This week we cover a bit of everything, from how boards are evolving, to how the sport itself was built, to where it’s quietly shifting right now.

And we dig into something deeper, the fading of local crews, and what that’s really costing the sport beneath the surface.

This one’s about design, identity, and the small things that shape how we ride and why we ride.

Because beyond the waves, the clips, and the noise…

Bodyboarding is always evolving, whether we notice it or not.

Let’s scratch the salty itch and get right into it. 😎

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In The Bodyboard Report’s welcome letter I touched briefly on Mike Stewart’s Warp Tail design.

Now in his 60’s, the 9 x world champ is still dedicated to the innovation process of sketching, building in CAD, prototyping, and then doing the only test that really matters:

Taking it into the ocean and seeing what holds up.

According to Mike on the Science Bodyboards YouTube channel -

The Warp came from going back to the bat tail idea I worked on in the early ’90s.

Back then, I was riding more rounded tail boards, but I wanted more bite in the turns, so I started adding wings, and that’s really where the bat tail started.

The goal was always to keep that smooth, rounded pin feeling, but introduce little release points that give you extra hold, something that sits right between a rounded pin and a crescent.

With the Warp, I’ve pushed that idea a bit further, adding two wings and a slightly rounder tail, so it feels really loose, but still has enough traction to keep you from sliding out when you’re pushing hard.

If you would like to take The Warp for a test drive, here are some take-aways I found very interesting:

First, even though the board measures its full length from nose to tail, the effective rail line is noticeably shorter because of the wing configuration.

On something like a 42 inch board, you’re really only getting about 40 inches of rail, which makes it feel more like riding a smaller, more maneuverable board.

(I heard that once. It was dark and I remember her being quite cheeky…)

The 42-to-40 vibe comes into play immediately in the pocket, where tighter spins feel quicker and more controlled, and those split second decisions to hit the lip become a little easier to execute.

Because of that shortened rail length, it’s actually worth considering going up about half an inch from your usual size if you want to keep a more familiar overall feel under your chest.

Second, the inner wing plays a big role in how the board holds through turns.

It brings the hold point closer to the center of the tail, which makes it much harder for the board to slide out when you’re pushing hard.

What that allows is a slightly more forward weight distribution than you’d normally ride, and you can feel that translate directly into added acceleration while trimming.

Then you’ve got the deep quad vent channels underneath, which further reinforce that hold and give the board a really solid, connected feel through the wave face.

Sounds like a unique experience, doesn’t it?

Well, have no Fear and Loathing…

Stay off the cabbage.

Johnny be Good and shop the Mike Stewart Science MSCX The Warp Bodyboard on ebodyboarding.com

The countdown is on for the Antofagasta Bodyboard Festival 2026, and DropKnee is back where it belongs. If you missed it, check out The Bodyboard Report from 2 weeks ago right here.

This one isn’t just another stop, it’s set to crown the first world champion of the season in one of the most technical and underrated disciplines in the sport.

All eyes are on Sammy Morretino, the reigning world champ and 5 x title holder, who comes in as the clear man to beat.

But he’s not alone.

Amaury Lavernhe is stepping into the division with serious intent, chasing history as he looks to add a DropKnee world title to his already elite prone career.

Fabien Thazar brings raw experience and a reputation for going all in, the kind of rider who can turn any heat on its head.

Then you’ve got the local threat.

Leo Alar and Michel Copetta know these waves inside out, and with La Nilda serving up heavy A-frame conditions, that home advantage could be decisive.

When it all lines up, DropKnee at this level isn’t just riding, it’s a full display of timing, positioning, and commitment.

On the prone battlefield, Tristan and Alexandra are leading the charge.

Visit the IBC World Tour for more…

Bodyboarding used to be built on crews, not just loose groups of people who happened to surf the same beach, but tight circles of riders who showed up day after day, in all conditions, and built something real over time.

You knew who was going to be there before you even checked the surf, and more importantly, you knew exactly what level you had to rise to the moment you paddled out.

Because crews weren’t passive, they were demanding, and whether it was said out loud or not, there was always a standard in the water.

You earned your place through commitment, through taking waves when it was heavy, through not pulling back when it counted, and through slowly proving that you belonged in that lineup.

And that environment did something powerful.

It forced progression.

Not in a structured, coached way, but in a raw, unavoidable way where you either stepped up or got left behind.

You watched the best guy in your crew take a line you didn’t think was possible, and without even realizing it, that became your new baseline.

That’s how levels moved.

That’s how styles developed.

That’s how entire regions built their own identity in the water.

Now compare that to what we’re seeing more and more today.

More solo surfs.

More quick sessions squeezed between everything else.

More time spent watching clips than actually talking about waves with the people around you.

And on the surface, it looks like progression should be faster than ever, because access to world class surfing is unlimited.

But something doesn’t quite add up.

Because while exposure has increased, real, grounded progression often hasn’t kept pace in the same way.

And the reason is simple.

Watching is not the same as being pushed.

Scrolling is not the same as being held accountable.

And surfing alone, no matter how motivated you are, doesn’t replicate the pressure and energy of a tight crew in the water.

Because when you surf alone, you control the standard.

You decide which waves to go on.

You decide when it’s too big or too heavy.

You decide when you’ve had enough.

But in a crew, that decision gets taken away from you.

Someone else goes.

Someone else commits.

And suddenly you’re faced with a choice, step up or sit there knowing you should have gone.

That tension is uncomfortable, but it’s also where growth actually happens.

The same with training partners in the gym.

And beyond progression, crews gave the sport something even more important.

They gave it identity.

Different coastlines produced different styles.

Different spots shaped different approaches to riding waves.

You could watch someone for a few waves and have a good idea of where they came from, just based on how they moved, how they positioned themselves, and how they attacked a section.

Now, with everyone drawing from the same global pool of content, styles are starting to blend.

Not completely, but enough that the edges are softer than they used to be.

The rawness is harder to find.

The individuality isn’t as pronounced.

And while the sport has undeniably grown in reach, there’s an argument that it has lost some of that local intensity that made it special in the first place.

The deeper issue is that community has shifted from physical to digital.

You can be connected to thousands of riders around the world, but still paddle out without a single familiar face in the water.

And that changes the experience in ways that aren’t immediately obvious, but become clear over time.

Because bodyboarding was never just about riding waves.

It was about shared sessions, about rivalries that pushed you, about friendships built over years of showing up together, and about that unspoken understanding between people who have been through heavy conditions side by side.

Those things don’t translate easily to screens.

They don’t build the same way through comments or likes.

They require presence. Consistency. Time.

And that’s why the idea of the local crew still matters.

Not as nostalgia, but as a real, practical driver of progression, identity, and connection within the sport.

Because the truth is, crews haven’t disappeared completely.

They’ve just become less common, less visible, and in some places, less intentional.

But they can be rebuilt.

And it doesn’t take much to start.

Two or three committed riders showing up consistently at the same spot, pushing each other, calling each other out, and creating that shared standard again.

That’s always been the foundation. Not numbers. Not scale.

Just consistency and pressure over time.

If the sport is going to keep evolving in a meaningful way, it won’t come from more content alone.

It will come from rebuilding those pockets of real connection in the water, where progression is earned, not consumed.

Because at its core, bodyboarding has never been a solo pursuit.

It’s always been about who you share the lineup with, and what they bring out of you when it matters. 🌊

There’s a reason certain names keep coming up in bodyboarding, and it’s not just titles or trophies, it’s because they shaped the way the sport feels in the water.

Born to Boogie: Legends of Bodyboarding by Owen Pye captures that evolution, from the early days of Tom Morey through to icons like Mike Stewart, Guilherme Tamega, and Jeff Hubbard, who redefined what was possible on a wave.

This isn’t just a timeline of events, it’s a record of how progression actually happens, through individuals pushing limits in heavy conditions where most people wouldn’t even paddle out.

From Ben Severson and Eppo driving style and innovation, to competitors like Ben Player and Damian King refining high performance competition, every era added something new to the DNA of the sport.

What stands out is how much of bodyboarding’s history was built underground, in heavy waves, tight crews, and raw environments that never needed mainstream validation.

It grew because the riders were obsessed, not because the spotlight was on them.

And even when the sport dipped, lost visibility, or fractured, it kept rebuilding itself through the same formula, core riders, pushing limits, and passing that energy forward.

If you want to understand where bodyboarding really comes from, not just the moves but the mindset, this book is essential reading, and… it makes a damn good coffee table decoration.

Get yours at 👉 Bodyboard King

This week’s drop is all about energy, not the hype kind, the real kind that actually shows up when you paddle out.

Eating Patterns for Hormone Harmony is a simple, practical checklist that helps you dial in your eating habits so your body actually works with you, not against you.

Because most people don’t realise it, but your energy in the water is directly tied to how stable your system is throughout the day.

If your cortisol is spiking and crashing, your sessions feel the same, bursts of energy followed by fatigue, poor focus, and slower reactions when it matters. 🌊

Bodyboarding has never really been about just the board, the move, or the moment you capture on camera.

It’s been shaped by design, by the legends who pushed it forward, and by the everyday riders still figuring it out in their own way.

From new ideas like the Warp changing how we ride waves, to the foundations laid by those who built the sport, to the crews that gave it identity in the first place.

It’s all connected.

How you surf.

Who you enjoy it with.

And what you bring into the water each time you paddle out.

The Bodyboard Report is here to keep that whole picture alive and moving forward.

If this hit home, pass it on.

If this is your first read, here’s what you missed 👇

1st Edition 🌊

2nd Edition 🌊

Enjoy a strong week in and out of the water, and I’ll see you in the next one. 🤙