Lennix Smith | Chuffed & Charging Filthy Philippine Pits

Last year, when a QS competition in the Philippines coincided with an emerging Typhoon swirling in the Western Pacific, Lennix “The Beagle” Smith knew what he had to do. 

“I called my best mate Coxy (aka South Coast charger and Filmer Aron Cox) to come hang and film, and then checked in with Hughie Vaughan and convinced him to tag along. I’d been there a few times and knew there were waves. And a typhoon is good for waves, right?”

In theory. This particular cyclone, however, was one of the biggest in recent memory. It came too close to the Island and collected it.

“When it hit,  it was hectic. We had two days in our room, with no power, and all the shops were closed, and we were on rations,” he recalled. “That was fine for Hughie, who eats shit anyway. We ended up just eating jam on bread, using our fins as knives. I thought I’d butchered this trip.” - Lennix Smith

Eventually, though, the system spun back out to sea, and Lennix and the gang headed north to track down the right-hander he’d heard about on previous trips. They scored two days of barrels, backed it with a “few hell nights,” and some other fun waves on the island. 

“I love it there. It has such a good variety of waves for chasing clips. It’s like a version of Bali, with the same, or even better, or worse, partying vibes,” he said. “The typhoon didn't stop us; we were fortunate enough not to get blown away, and plenty of fun was had.”

If fun is always on the agenda, Smith is deadly serious about his competitive career. He’s fresh off a 3rd place in the World Junior Titles, back in the Philippines. Dogged by serious illness, and sleeping and chundering between heats, he was gutted not to go all the way in his last year in the junior ranks. 

“I lost in the last 10 seconds of the semi, and, fuck man, that really hurt,” he said. “I was happy that I battled through being so crook, and never gave up, but I really wanted to win that one. That’s the name of the game. That’s what I had worked so hard for.”

Earlier in the year, Lennix had moved to the Gold Coast, towards the coaches, training centres, and surfing with a cut-throat, high-performance crew in every session, from one-foot beachbreak slop and pumping points. It’s a well-grooved path. 

“That was purely to get myself up in the mix of it all, and train at the HPC, like go all in,” he said. “I fucking hated it. There were no waves. I didn’t surf. And I don’t like to train, never have,” he laughed. He was also travelling loads and basically paying rent to store his boards in an expensive apartment.

“I had to put my big boy pants on and try it, but honestly, I hated it. And now I know that I'll never ever leave the South Coast,” he said. “If this were the Gold Coast, there’d be 500,000 people on it, and look, there’s no one out,” he said, watching from the family home’s veranda, as lines spun and gurgled down the conglomerate at his local point.  

And while that move didn’t work out, he kept busy. Kept smiling. Loads of competitive action and Tahiti missions were mixed with extended Indo trips, a visit to Kelly’s pool, Stab Highs, Euro vacays and duelling, fuelling and gruelling with his best mate, and biggest rival, Hughie Vaughan. Aussie surfing’s newest double-act creased waves and stomach linings, seeing who can rip the hardest and laugh the loudest.