hiya wa howa aswat

Words by Elliot Struck | Photos by Alan van Gysen 

At 4pm on Saturday afternoon, Jordy Smith married his sweetheart, Lyndall Jarvis, in Cape Town.
After an on-wave proposal back in July during the US Open, it only took six months until Lyndall was breezing down the isle and into her man’s very powerful arms, presumably to Jagged Edge’s Let’s Get Married.

The 200-ish guest list read like a who’s who of South Africa’s upper echelons; famous models, SA surfing’s creme, plus folk from all of Jordy’s sponsorship camps. The venue was The Grand Beach Cafe in Cape Town, right on the waterfront and close enough to Cape Town Stadium to hear cheers from tens of thousands of soccer fans watching an African cup of Nationals.

Jordy was dapper in a classic charcoal two-button suit with white shirt and white Cons (surfers are allergic to dress shoes). The groom’s party, dressed in light grey two-pieces and white Cons, included (best man) Damien Fahrenfort, Jarrad Howse, Chad du Toit, Warwick Wright, Travis Logie and Garth Tarlow. All the suits were legit Hugo Boss, purchased in the US, a fact Dooma even made note of in his speech. As if you needed any further evidence of Jords’ well-known and very endearing generosity.

The bridal party, led by maid-of-honour Che John, and all of whom it can be assumed Wok later made a play for, glowed in turquoise. Lyndall Jarvis came to the wedding as her flawless self, and wore an ivory dress to rule them all.

By all reports, Jords straight-up nailed his speech, with not a dry eye in the outdoor, white sail-topped space (including his own).

The (now officially) best pals for life and their awesome gang then swooped to the reception where everybody cut sick on the d-floor to Cape Town’s Goldfish (homeboys’ live set includes double bass, Roland synths, IRL saxophone and is thoroughly on that uplifting tip).


Big love from Stab to the happy couple. Now go get suitably weird on your honeymoon