Let's go, muscles.
- Hey! Where do you think you're going?! Huh? - Ah!
- Go! Go! - Open this door, woman! So help me God!
Open the bloody door!
Go, mom! Drive!
Ah, look at that.
Come back here. Goofy, get back here!
Can you go get your brother, please?
Nuh-uh. No way, kiddo.
I've got a job interview in Albany and it's still a day's drive away.
Albany's gonna suck.
And it's not going to have waves like that.
You could find a job here easy.
Andrew, I'm not going to ask you again.
Come on, it's a sign.
We'll fit right in.
Big boy, let's go! Hit him!
Say it again, I dare you!
I'm all ears, mate. Got anything else you want to add?
Come on, Lincoln!
Go on then, piss off back to Sydney
Boys, break it up!
You lads break it up!
Get off of him!
God! Nothin' but trouble, you lot.
I'll be back in an hour.
Don't even think about going anywhere.
We'll talk about this then.
Feel like a quick wave?
# Deep down in Louisiana close to new Orleans #
# way back up in the woods among the evergreens #
# there stood a log cabin made of earth and wood #
# where lived a country boy... #
Hey there. I'm Gus.
How's it goin', fellas?
It's a bit nippy, eh?
Be warmer back on land, mate.
Guess I'll see you when I see you.
# He used to carry his guitar in a gunny sack #
# go sit beneath the tree by the railroad track... #
# Oh, the engineers would see him sitting in the shade #
# strumming with the rhythm that the drivers made #
# people passing by, they would stop and say #
# "oh my, that little country boy could play..." #
Hello, Mr. fix-it.
Oh, just basic patching, glassing.
Caravans and canoes and stuff.
The nearest ding-fixer's in Perth,
so I do most of the locals' boards as well.
Yeah. It's unreal.
Sweet. All right, let's take a look at ya.
The nose section's pretty stuffed.
I can try and bog her up, but I'm not too sure how good she'll turn out.
Why don't we just chop it off?
That's Dick Brewer. Bloke's a legend.
Probably has dozens of boards.
- So? - So we've only got the one.
What if we stuff it up? I'm already in a enough shit with mom.
Couldn't make it any worse.
Sorta makes sense.
Less surface area, less drag.
Your board, but.
Pointing it the right way? Ya little mullet.
No, Jim, no no no no, not that one. Jim!
And for the first time in the history of the comp',
we've scored ourselves a sponsor!
Which means finally someone else gets the privilege
of putting on the keg.
And that someone is Mr. ocean king himself,
- Over to you, gordo. - All right.
Look, ocean king are stoked to be here,
supporting surfing at a grassroots level in Western Australia.
By now you've all seen candy wandering around.
Where are you, darlin'? Now come on, come over here.
Right? Ha ha ha!
Look at that, eh?
If you're nice to her, she might even give you
a free stick of ocean king surfboard wax.
I'll give her a stick!
Yeah, right on, mate. Back in your box.
I can tell we all want to have a beer, so let's get on with it.
Okay, the winner of the 1972 ocean king
seacliffe amateur surf comp'
on what I am told is his trademark red rocket,
it's Jimmy Kelly!
Come up here, son! You got it!
- Oh! - Whoo!
- Yeah! - Speech! Speech!
- Let's get pissed! - Yeah!
Ah, slow down a bit, mate.
Anyone'd think you got somewhere else to go.
Yeah, wind's going off-shore, Percy.
Be clean as a whistle out there right now.
I knock this one off, I'll get half an hour in the water
before the sharks come out and eat me.
Rather you than me, mate.
Come on, Percy! Chop chop!
You old bag of bones! You're not done yet, mate.
Hang in there, Andy.
You won't have to carry the old bugger for much longer.
He's been carrying me long enough, Stan.
He probably deserves a bit of a breather by now, don't you reckon?
Aw, you're a soft touch. Plenty of time for that when he's not on the clock.
- Right, Percy? - Oh, right as rain, Stan.
About bloody time.
You were supposed to be here this morning!
You blokes don't mind working back to unload it, do you?
Ah. Hey, ladies.
- How you doin'? - Nice car.
Goofy, you smelly old bastard, mate.
Jesus, I thought my day sucked.