BOBBY MARTINEZ, BOBBY MONSTER

Conquers Chopes

Aside from the blue and amber dayglo sparks of the Empereur fish that dart in and out of the coral heads, the Teahupoo reef is also now littered with shards of what, two weeks ago, were Bobby Martinez's complete quiver of brand spanking DHDs.

In the past week, Bobby has been driven through them like nails or had them snap on serious impact with the ledge.

Thus, last night he was foundering around the Teva residence, stroking his Captain Haddock beard, working out how he was going to be on some familiar equipment for the final day's play.

He got word local lad and part-time Gold Coaster Alain Riou (who Fanning crashes with each year) was riding almost identical equipment shaped by Handley, and had it stashed in his garage up at Vairao.

With boards firmly underfoot, Martinez was a man in complete control and demolished his side of the draw, even in his semi against the unkillable Aritz, even in his final against Taj whose surfing was as sharp as the coral below him.

Just as hungry but more composed: Martinez had fewer outward manifestations of desperation or even exertion. With low shoulders, and a drive that comes direct from the lower torso, he gave the impression he was riding an airport travelator ...

... A forward-moving conveyor belt that could only be stopped when he had a wooden tiki trophy in one hand and a blue and amber bottle in the other.