Welcome to Paradise, Now Go to Hell, is surfer and former war reporter Chas Smith’s wild and unflinching look at the high-stakes world of surfing on Oahu’s North Shore—a riveting, often humorous, account of beauty, greed, danger, and crime.
For two months every winter, when Pacific storms make landfall, swarms of mainlanders, Brazilians, Australians, and Europeans flock to Oahu’s paradisiacal North Shore in pursuit of some of the greatest waves on earth for surfing’s Triple Crown competition. Chas Smith reveals how this influx transforms a sleepy, laid-back strip of coast into a lawless, violent, drug-addled, and adrenaline-soaked mecca.
Smith captures this exciting and dangerous place where locals, outsiders, the surf industry, and criminal elements clash in a fascinating look at class, race, power, money, and crime, set within one of the most beautiful places on earth. The result is a breathtaking blend of crime and adventure that captures the allure and wickedness of this idyllic golden world.
In what might be the ultimate in geographic irony, I read this book about the surf culture of Hawaii's North Shore while I was in the depths of the frigid Alaskan wilderness. Did it keep me warm? Naw, brah, but this Trash Prose kept me mightily entertained. What's Trash Prose? According to this rendition it is both languid and swift, punctuated by crisp character descriptions and decimations, along with celebrity name-dropping gossip. Catty too, with literary grenades strewn casually about relentless journalistic-style prose, all a little bit frightened of its potential. In short, a non-fiction mash-up strung together by a strong and colorful authorial voice. But it gets even better: I learned something from this book. And not some psycho-babble life lesson about how a person grows by suffering through grief, addiction, a crappy childhood or whatever - as seems to be the current fashion in pop non-fiction first-person writing. Not so here. Thankfully. From this book, I learned about a place, a mental space, a culture and a history. Hawaii. North Shore. Surf. The geomorphology and magic that make up big ass waves. Wow! It's gonzo Margaret Mead sprinkled with amped up Jacques Cousteau-style ocean love hidden inside an anarchistic anti-capitalistic tribute to the surfin' Sopranos of the North Shore. I loved it. Props to Chas Smith for bringing it to life for the rest of us eternal outsiders.
I had a hard time getting into this book or even caring about it. An autobiography with author Chas Smith telling the tale, we get to hear more about what Smith is wearing, his hairstyles, his self-labeled "coolness" than we do about anything of interest on the North Shore.
When I reading a surfing book, I don't want to read about reeking, run-down-at-the-heels Vans shoes - repeated times.
Disjointed narrative and an unlikable protagonist made this tale a real chore to get through. There were glimmers of humor and some interesting passages about the North Shore, which is why I gave this two stars rather than one.
NOTE: I received a copy of this book in exchange for my honest opinion.
I found this book to be vapid and totally self-serving. Sure, there are a few interesting anecdotes about the surf industry and the inhabitants of the North Shore, but mostly this book is about CHAS SMITH, who, frankly, is not even remotely interesting. I lost count of how many times he mentioned his "pink button down", skinny jeans and red Vans. Also, he would like the reader to know that he is cool enough to throw loose shakas, that he once dislocated his arm 4 or 5 times in one night of passion with "his lady" (hurk) and you will be reminded repeatedly that he has an "addiction to destruction". Smith writes with almost laughable admiration about the local thugs who dish out slaps and chokes to those who violate their code of ethics, while trash-talking the actual surfers who just don't care about "fashion" as much as Smith himself does.
It's a shame he can't see past his own reflection; with the access he had to the North Shore during peak surf season, he could have written a really fantastic book. This isn't it.
“This is a book written by Chas Smith about Chas Smith,” readers lament. They are right, and wrong. The author is not writing a third person narrative, he is writing about events as he experienced them, so it seems intuitive that he would direct attention to himself. Is it too much attention? Maybe a little bit. Smith does get repetitive, but his observations about himself and others are part of the appeal. He may be a narcissist, but he is a self- aware narcissist and I like that. He calls things as he sees it. He is brutally honest about himself and the other individuals with which he interacts. I find his style refreshing. So, enough about the author what about the story? This book is like a magical mystery tour. Exotic location, oddball characters, intense action mixed with the gritty, violent and surreptitious side of paradise. The author’s description of the North shore, its local customs and its inhabitants are vivid, perceptive and hilarious. Laugh out loud hilarious. Smith shines a completely different light on the Hawaiian surf fantasy, uncovering unsavory bits about the surfing industry and the surfers themselves. But the book is not all expose, there are some beautiful and delightful descriptions of the North Shore surf: its origins, the tiny intricacies of its breaks, its merciless brutality. The chapter describing the rival heats between surfers in the WTC at pipeline had me on the edge of my chair. Mouth agape, I read the account of Laurie Towner wiping out. White water pounding him down on the reef and dislocating both his arms. My heart skipped as North Shore first timer Kolohe Andino bobbed out in the ocean expanse contemplating with palatable dread, the impossibility of surfing 30 foot waves while at the same time John John Florence emerges from a third barrel to win surfing’s Triple Crown. When the contest was over, I felt like I had been there. Smith’s prose is not perfect, in fact it seems as if this text was sent to the publisher unedited, but if a writer can transport you, that is a special talent. Even if you are only a casual fan of surfing and Hawaii…and let’s be honest, who isn’t?…I would highly recommend this book. It an easy read and a fun ride. Aloha.
I read this book in December 2013. Its author is collecting buzz in Summer 2020, so I thought it was worth sharing my review exactly as it ran in December 2013; I received an ARC courtesy of the publisher via the Amazon Vine program.
My thoughts remain as I stated them that year. Aloha.
A Self-Fulfilling Prophesy
In at least one interview published before the release of this book, surf lifestyle reporter Chas Smith said he fully expected to be "slapped" by the individuals and companies he called out. Sure enough, the winter swells and the international surfing community have begun converging on Oahu's North Shore, so it is likely Smith's book will soon be a topic of conversation, if it isn't already.
On its face -- and this may be as far as some may have the stomach to go -- Welcome to Paradise, Now Go to Hell is about making waves and roiling up people's emotions. There is a lot of snark seemingly solely for snark's sake. Smith intersperses throw-away disparagements and characterizations of people he admittedly doesn't know with self-important descriptions of his attire, his coolness, and his thirst for everything from alcohol to excitement.
Those who are familiar with Smith's body of work likely won't be surprised at the tenor, tone, and content of this book. They'll welcome it, and he'll be able to point to evidence that the "us vs. them" insular mentality of Hawaii is real. Which is a totally unnecessary shame, and in his heart, I suspect Smith knows this.
Despite his façade and persona, Smith lets glimpses of an adult understanding of Hawaii's challenges peek through. One passage about respect rings especially true. However, I'm not sure how intentional that was. Was he doing some subtle advance atonement or in his heart did he want to write two very different books? I wonder whether anyone who runs into him at Foodland Pupukea this winter will engage him in this conversation. I'm there every so often, and might give it a try.
Smith talks about wanting surfers to "embrace the cinema of their lives" and being frustrated because they choose cliché instead. "Cliché is easy," he writes. "Cliché is something parents and grandparents like, but who wants to live that way? Certainly not me."
Exactly, Mr. Smith. I imagine that Hawaii's surfers and other athletes over the years have felt the same: Duke Kahanamoku. Soichi Sakamoto and the Maui kids who trained for ill-fated Olympics of 1940 and 1944 by swimming in sugarcane irrigation systems. Rell Sunn. Bryan Clay. You owed my home, my neighbors, and these many good souls better, and I expect you know that.
Readers, if you are not from Hawaii, I cannot recommend this book to you. Instead, look for books about any of the aforementioned athletes. If you are keiki o ka aina, however, you should take a look at "Welcome to Paradise" to see what Smith is perpetuating.
The first few chapters I was like what the hell does this have to do with surfing? Then it kicked in real hard, and by the time it was about the ocean the battlefield undertone analogies all made sense. This is a riveting read an introspect few would kill for and most would die for. Chas Smith goes behind enemy lines to deliver an account of the gripping realities of dreams shattered into reefs and Hawaiian fists alike. This should be a mandatory read for any surfer deemed "core"...
Pretty entertaining only if you're familiar with the surf community of Oahu's North Shore. It was a little repetitive near the end with Chas repeatedly stating the violent nature of the NS and his love/hate relationship with Hawaii. Overall, I enjoyed it and read it in less than a week. Quick easy read.
This author is incredibly narcissistic and judgemental, I was floored. He is also super proud of how awful he is and how much he loves danger. The writing was incredibly poor to boot. This really does rank up there with the worst books I have ever read. I feel mad thinking that there really are people like this out in the world.
Truly, I loved this little cover of north shore secrets and myths. Loved the language, loved the tea and loved how he never actually came to one point but left all possibilities open.
Givin' Australians a bad name: the book. Lol I know he's just like that and wrote a book in his own voice but he can't be mad if people hate it (read: hate him). I was really trying to not leave a mean review but then the final line implies Hawai'i "belongs" to him THATS A QUUOOOOTTE thats a quote hahaha PS can I confirm he's Australian? Maybe not but if he's really just from Oregon then you can't even explain away the racism. Also his name is Chas?
Chas Smith is a real piece of work. He is very full of himself. He thinks that his style is the only style that anyone should wear. He is truly the hippest man on the planet (in his own mind, anyway). You will probably be really annoyed with him. You might even hate him, but he wrote a good book.
This book is supposed to be about surfing, but really most of the time Chas Smith is talking about Chas Smith. He really likes himself. This can get under your skin, because you won't like him nearly as much as Chas Smith likes himself.
Once you get past screaming at Chas for the stupid stuff he is saying and settle down and get your blood pressure under control, (this took me about a third of the book) you get to learn some very eye opening things about what goes on during the Winter on Oahu's North Shore. This is when the biggest, scariest, most sought after, waves are pounding the shores of Hawaii. This is when the biggest surf contest of the year takes place, The Van's Triple Crown of Surfing. The biggest event takes place at the Banzai Pipeline. The heart of this book happens during the 2012 Billabong Pipe Masters. Chas Smith talks to the two scariest men on the North Shore. He writes stuff that they may not want to have released out into the wild. I wonder what will happen to Chas Smith once this book is published. I am following him on Twitter (@chasdoesntsurf ) to see what he posts after November 19.
I give this book 4 Stars out of 5. If you are going to Hawaii this December to watch the Pipe Masters surfing contest at Pipeline, you need to get this book. It will give you some good inside information, and some safety tips.
I received this Digital Review Copy for free from edelweiss.com.
author chas is a bit stuck, on himself. but then hell, he DOES bring back the story. and it is not a simple story really, when big bucks, poor people, and capitalists (both aboveboard ones and underground ones) get involved. surfing has exploded as a big bucks enterprise now, with merch, tv, and limited natural resources. chas gets all up in everybody's' business and takes the reader with him into creepy neighborhoods, hugeass waves hoods, and Hawaiian natives. pretty interesting really, wish there was more natural history, and wave talk, but if interested i guess one can go to these other books for that Ghost Wave: The Discovery of Cortes Bank and the Biggest Wave on Earth and The Wave: In Pursuit of the Rogues, Freaks, and Giants of the Ocean
I liked this one - even with Smith being as obnoxious as possible. I think if I knew him, and I were a big Hawaiian guy, I'd choke him out every day, just because I could. And I scoff at his stupid skinny jeans. (Yep, I just threw down the gauntlet right there...)
Anyway, the rest of the book is really intriguing. I knew about the North Shore - but I didn't know all the dirt that Smith gave us. I thought it was just a great place to surf with the usual surfing politics. I didn't realize that is was the Washington DC of surf zones.
Glad I read it. Don't necessarily believe all of it. Want to see it someday - from a safe and dry beach location.
North shore Hawaii, huge waves and people. This story captures the surfing circuit. The power and beauty of the waves, the colorful sunsets, a place of culture and history. Then....Two months every winter population triples, people from all over arrive, wanting to hit the big ones. Sleepy North Shore becomes violent, raw language and drugs used (cocaine, booze etc.) Becomes a lawless community where no one is safe. To some dangerous but exhilarating. The story told as it happens, in great detail. Brought to life for us by the author. Well written story.
I found this book impossible to get through. Not because of the subject matter, but because of the author's style of prose. Chas Smith is in love with danger, self-obsessed, and narcissistic. It was exhausting to read yet another reference to his skinny jeans or how he always wears pink button downs in Hawaii, and how he was drawn to dangerous situations. It also didn't really leave me with what I wanted it to. I expected more of a journalistic endeavour, but instead got a lazy memoir. Two stars because the subject matter was interesting, but I'm definitely glad to be finished.
So this is Trash Prose. Maybe I’m just not used to the style but I couldn’t get passed the author’s incessant narcissism. It serves as a cautionary tell for those who try way too hard to be cool. And sad that all the intrigue of the North Shore and its localism and customs and crews/paks take a back seat per usual to the foreigner who writes about it. Not all bad though. The part I enjoyed most was a thrilling account of John John and Kolohe in the Pipe Masters. Especially now that we’ve seen their careers unfold.
2 stars seems too low. 2.5 stars... It wasn't a bad book - when the author isn't talking about his Red Vans and skinny jeans, I did enjoy reading about surf culture and the North Shore.
This is a book about the surf culture of the North Shore of Oahu and more specifically about the world famous surf break known as Pipeline. The locals historically have been very protective of their North Shore surf spots and especially Pipe. I’ve spent weeks on the North Shore where my brother used to live. I’m not a surfer. But every morning we’d drive down the winding road from Pupukea and park on the access road along Kam Highway and walk from Keiki Beach to Pipeline and back. We’ve (my wife and I) watched numerous surf competitions at Pipe which is a most wonderful place to watch as the break occurs very close to the beach. It is a very dangerous break and it seems like every winter there was some fatality or serious injury when someone got stuck under or bounced off the reef. As older, haole visitors we never had any problems but I was aware that visiting surfers had issues and would frequently get punched in the lineup or followed to the beach and beat up. There are Youtube videos. In those days the name that put fear in the hearts of surfers (local and non local) was Eddie Rothman who, surprisingly, was not a local but a Jewish guy originally from the East Coast. He had the big, scary rep. His boys got Hawaiian names and were as local as they come and his grandsons make Youtube videos about surfing the North Shore and even about respect for local surfing customs. The rule is you don’t drop in (steal a wave) from a local. I once talked to one of the top boogie boarders in Australia who came to the North Shore to train for a completion and could spend all day at Pipe without being allowed to catch a wave. It’s been several years from my days at Pipe and current videos might show a couple hundred surf boards in the line up. Perhaps the locals finally lost control. But not during the period when the author, a surf writer and self styled danger seeker, visited to see the Pipe Masters and interviewed Eddie Rothman who he sees as a scary modern day Robin Hood in flip flops. The book was fun reading for me as, save for physically experiencing the power of a wave on a board, I got to revisit the route where my wife and I spent so much time: Foodland and Starbucks, Ted’s Bakery, Turtle Bay resort and Haleiwa. We’d see a lot of the big name surfers, would stand in line at Starbucks with Kelly Slater and watch great surfers catch waves at Pipe and Backdoor. I’m not sure how others would react to the book. The author comes across as a kind of arrogant prick but he does a great job of evoking the feeling of the beach, describing the breaks, the reefs, the rips and undertows. If it was as scary a place as he claims I can believe it but never felt it.
Chas Smith's memoir of Hawaii's fabled North Shore during the 2012 Pipeline Masters tournament is an intriguing look at the dark underbelly of tropical paradise, and a sport that most people associate with clean-living Americana like the Beach Boys and Beach Blanket Bingo. The world that Smith shows us is corrupt, riddled with intimidation, rife with violent tribalism, and fueled by drugs, booze, corporate money, and fragile egos.
It is also written in a somewhat self-consciously semi-gonzo journalistic style, with the author at the center. There is no question that Smith has reportorial chops - the book opens with him being captured by Hezbollah while working in the Middle East - but he is also an adrenaline junkie with an over-inflated sense of just how interesting his quest for a "cinematic life"filled with adventure, fashion sense, and good hair really is, even if that quest may be somewhat ironic. Ditto for the topic of this memoir; it will be riveting for surfing aficianados who aren't already in the know, but for the average reader, it will simply tick the box for "interesting, informative read".
And there is nothing wrong with that. But avoid the hype and go in knowing that unless you love the sport or the lifestyle, the myopically small world of North Shore surfing doesn't really have much affect on anything in the big picture, and the foundations of your universe are unlikely to be shaken.
I wanted to love this book SO much. I recently went to Oahu for my honeymoon, so it was fun seeing his descriptions of the island, and of places I had been - I think if I hadn't already been there it would have been a bit dull in that regard. I also wanted there to be, you know, an actual plot line. It read more like a series of vaguely connected, generally plotless essays. The main thing connecting all these stories? That the author is wearing a pink shirt, drives a white convertible, and is a Really Cool Dude™. With that being said, I liked hearing about the waves, about surfer etiquette and relations, and some of the interesting North Shore characters. I'll be looking out for Eddie on my next North Shore trip!
This book is chaotic and I had a hard time getting through it, but there were also parts I loved!
Is the disorganized structure a metaphor for the craziness of the North Shore? That’s probably giving Chas Smith too much credit. I found him insufferable as a narrator at times, but also someone who is unapologetically himself, which, to me, is something to be applauded.
The beginning is a bit of a slog, but I found the part about the Pipe Masters to be riveting (Kolohe vs John John, etc) There were other strong moments, too.
Overall, I don’t know that I would recommend this. I think the content is interesting if you can get past (or embrace) the narration.
This book is a fun read and the reader learns a lot about surfing on the North Shore of Hawaii, but, do not, I repeat, do not, take the writer's comments about himself too seriously, or the book might be ruined for you. His persona is narcissistic, compulsive jerk. And he might be in real life. That is certainly how he presents himself on the page. However, his writing is lively, understandable, and evocative. The book is 10 years old, but a lot of the surfers he writes about are still around, so it was fun for me to look them up on their social media platforms, now that I understand surfing a bit better.
Very mixed feelings on this book. I've previously enjoyed having read several surfer books and visiting the North Shore. The issue is that some of these stories feel sensationalized in a way, and I question whether some of them needed to see print and to what degree in their value. I guess for someone who is unfamiliar with Hawaii and the North Shore, it might work since it does touch on socioeconomic issues, surf culture, and a little on Hawaiian history. However, the style and language doesn't achieve its intended goal. Overall, not good, not bad, somewhere in the middle.
What a fun ride! This book made me laugh so hard! I know these people(including the trannies at chevron). I remember these events, I’ve gone to the Surfer Poll Awards. I work at Turtle Bay, I remember when Lindsay Lohan was here. She was such a difficult guest and we all laughed when her bag got stolen. My brother is a pro surfer, one of the Pipe Specialists. I remember when Cheeseburger was a tubby 6th grader at my kids school. A girl I know dated Eddie Rothman. I live in this world and Chas Smith was pretty damn accurate.
I agree with every review that says the author is narcissistic and full of himself.
That said, his description of the monster waves that the surfers tackle on Oahu's north shore is spot on. I was lucky enough to be there for "The Eddy" a few years ago when the waves came in at about 50'. As memorable as the wave heights was the sound of them crashing. One has to admire the skill of the professional surfers, as well as the life-saving crews. The fragility of those who went down was a dramatic reminder of the peril of the sport.
Pure surfer book. But it doesn’t start out as a surfer book. It starts out more interesting and more promising. Then, it’s basically all surf all the time. It really makes you appreciate the emptiness of the surf culture. Egotism, individualism and consumption.
For a surfer book. It’s quite good. The chapters were well illustrated and they had conflicted souls - and lots of conflict.
The surfer book angle is a little odd too. Because if you’re not a surfer I don’t know why you’re reading this book and if you are a surfing do you need the author to explain a barrel to you?
The author is obnoxious, self-obsessed hipster way too hung up on his own coolness and being plugged in to the local scene. BUT when he actually gets into the local culture, background, history and behind the scenes grimy background of Hawaii and the who-is-who in Surfing and the local HI society of the North Shore, he does channel Hunter S. Thompson. Gritty, looking into the darkest corners of the industry and the underbelly of the Northshore. Rings true of Hawaii, which has been my home for more than 2 decades.