Almost.

Here is a sequence I think we can all empathize with. So damn close. The best/worst part is the view of the opening as you faceplant.

SURFBOARD DESIGN

I know nothing except the fact of my ignorance. -Socrates

What does board design really do for you? Can a new or drastic refinement of a board make you surf better? Or does it just make it easier for you to express yourself in the way you would like to? Can you go from Clown to Curren on this new ripper-stick? Or is it like cocaine, it just makes your persona more vibrant?

After spending enough time orienting myself with surfboard-based hydronamic fundamentals, I proceeded to design the Big Time Operator. Wide, flat, and short compared to a standard issue thruster, BUT, it's tail is pulled in through double wings and the rails are more common to a thruster than a fish. It has four fins in which placement is super critical since there is no fat rail to push back or center fin to drive from. The center point pulled way forward with a wide flat nose. An all purpose surfboard to make average waves easier to ride.

What does that mean, easier to ride? My personal answer was a board that was loose to compensate for my chicken legs' lack of power. The board should not be to wide-assed so that it can't be ridden in the pocket or vertically. I wanted to still be able to hit the lip like a normal thruster. I wanted it to plane well unlike a modern thruster which requires effort to propel in smaller waves. I wanted to catch waves easily. What I wanted was a board with the speed and planing of a fish, but with the positive drive of a thruster.



What never crossed my mind is that I designed this board for me. I wasn't thinking about how anyone else's skills would affect how this board performed. Such as, if you are a full-fledged ripper would this board be an unnecessary element in your day-to-day quiver? If you are a kook, would the footwork required to function this board make you worse?

So here I am a year after launching this on the world and my friends in specific. The feedback is mixed. And there is no rhyme or reason to it. A couple rippers love it. A couple less skilled people love it. And vice versa. I personally can't believe I made the board. It goes fucking great in softer slower waves. But I didn't like how it went in real surf. Which began a whole new thought process. Does it suck in good waves? What the hell am I thinking? Who died and made me design legend? And what constitutes working well? Am I ripping as compared to the latest video offering? Am I able to perform the three maneuvers that I always perform?



What I am realizing about surfboard design is that all boards work. All of them. It is what is inside your head that determines how you perceive a board's value. Too many years of videos and magazines have created a homogenized vision of good surfing. And those who know me understand that I do not buy into the hippy, retro, plywood, bearded, soul-arch-every-wave game plan. I actually hate hippies, or at least the ones under 60 years old or the ones over 60 who became real estate moguls. But I know see the value of every board. It may not be what eases display of your repertoire in perfect surf, but it rides exactly perfect. You just need to see how it goes and ride it for what it is worth.

I am Old

Plywood

Modern Surfing? Me thinks not. I think you call that laying on plywood.

My friend Spike just told me he rides a Alaia surfboard, you know, plywood without a fin. I half laughed and half gagged. Spike took up surfing as a adult after moving to NC from Kansas or somewhere in the middle of the country. One would assume that he would be super keen to perfect his skills on standard surfcraft before getting all quasi-alternative in the water. He said that the waves suck so bad that the Alaia keeps him entertained.

My gut reaction to the plywood, finless, bearded cool-guy surf trend is that it is stupid. Sort of a be an individual by doing what other people are doing mentality. If you are going to do what is trendy, try ripping really fucking hard. Not go straight and poop squat and spin around like a 9 year old on a boogie board. Fucking stupid. A novelty and maybe worth a try at best, like humping a drunk fat chick.

But something Spike said jogged my hard head. He was bored - and it was really hard - which made it fun. He was having fun. That is all. So what if the skinny jeans are doing it? Nothing is new. You aren't the first at doing anything. So I need to shut up let people have fun. Now get out of my way, I am going Stand Up Paddle surfing.

Shaping in Kauai and the Birth of the Hydro-Matic®

The Hydro-Matic 5 Fin Pain in the Ass, after being tested in nerf-surf.

It started in the 80's. I guess Blair knew the Campbell Brothers and Sunshine House Surf Shop ended up with a demo 6'4" Bonzer. Since I lived with Chauncey who managed the Sunshine House, the board was in my or Minesinger's possession almost a whole summer. It worked great although a tad too big for me. 5 fins was so cool and different. It felt really drivey and I rode some fun waves on it.

In January of 2008. I was given a mangled blank that the shaping machine had grazed and left worthless for the project it was intended for. I did my research and asked a lot of questions. I took pictures of Hamilton bonzers, studied the Campbell Brothers info. I found glass on fins from a vendor that Chauncey himself recommended. I came up with a name for the board after reading a book on vintage automobile brightwork - the Hydro-Matic.

The real treat was I shaped the board from scratch myself. I hand drew the template using a huge piece of cardboard to flip and duplicate. I put the rocker in it since the blank was big for my intended purpose. After 6 months of research and work-a-little-at-a-time, I had a blank I was happy with. It sat in the shed until I got another board order. That took months. I finally had enough to make the trip to the glasser worthwhile. I had a airbrush worked out too. It looked sweet on paper.

After a couple months at the glasser the owner of the other board called and needed his board asap. I prodded the glasser to finish up and gave him a pick up date that was last minute. I was going on a trip and I needed the board to ship before I left. The day I left I finally got the other board, but the bonzer was still not close. It had now been at the glasser 3 months.

When I got back from my trip I called the glasser and prodded again. He finally relented and said the board would be ready in a couple days. So I made the drive out there to have a look. The airbrush was great, but that was it. He had glossed but not polished the deck only. One laminate was upside down and the fins where in the completely the wrong spot. I was so angry all I could do was take the board and walk out.

Click to enlarge. Note the chunks of bad color, the Rub It® lam upside down and various small but shitty dings. Sweet.How do you put a laminate on upside down if it has words on it? Really dude? Really?

It took me another 4 months to find someone bored enough to grind off four fins, repair and reset. A few weeks later he had the board and a few weeks after that I had the board in my hands. He couldn't match the color so now the brand new board had a mangled bottom, and big chunks of color blunders. None of this was the repair man's fault, it just looked like ass. At least the fins where right.

Last night the first north swell arrived and I was going to be on the north shore for business. I was so psyched I could barely contain myself. The day dawned flat and after 12 hours of meeting I finally saw the ocean with 45 minutes of daylight left. It wa head high, onshore and packed. I paddled out and caught some shitty, soft, slow wind choppy feeling waves and couldn't even begin to feel the board. Everyone got out and I snagged a decent one and worked it through the inside. It felt positive and drivey and I ended the ride with a reo. Or should I say that I ended the ride on dry reef? I mashed a toe and dinged the board a few places.

After a year and a half, I think I deserve a set wave on that fucking bonzer. But no…

Top 10 :: #5 Margaret River, Western Australia

1988 bitches. Back in the day. God I hate that expression cuz it is usually coming out of the mouth of someone born in the 90's. Anyway…

Me and my main man Hugh "Giant Hairy Testicle" Coyle were stuck in Perth after the worst trip in history. (I'll go there in another entry.) We flew all the way to the west coast of Australia to stay with friends. So we are in Perth, aka: Australia's version of Virginia Beach, with such rotten-crotch hideous options such as Trig Point, Scarborogh or even Cottelsloe to choose from, we thought we made a huge mistake. The days long misery was broken up by car shopping and a trip to some beach where a recent storm left the lineup a chowder of churned seaweed. It was onshore and large, but we were gonna fucking surf. My first wave I fell and literally got trapped beneath the seaweed. I came about as close to drowning as you really ever want to. All I could think was, "What the fuck are we doing here?"

A quick trip to Rottnest soothed our surflust for a minute. Then a trip to Lancelin with the family we were staying with found us sharing the lineup with our friend Steve, who was wearing sluggos and riding a goatboat. The waist high wind swell reminded me of my trip to South Florida, or as I call it, Hell. Nice flies though. Plenty too. Sweet.

We invented a game of called "Go to the City and Get Drunk All Day." We practiced hard and concentrated on perfecting it. We often found ourselves following any girl who would speak to us to any party we could go to. On one evening, a few fellas commented that we were really stupid. Which I was aware of since I still hadn't caught any waves better than home yet. He told us that three hours south was Margaret River. It had big surf. He also said that Perth has the worst waves in Australia. No shit Sherlock.

So we hit the road in our Holden Wagon saying c-ya to our lovely hosts in Perth. In three hours we would be ball deep in pits, mutherfuckers! Except our Holden only ran for about an hour before requiring a couple hour cool-down. There are Sunshine House stickers all over everything exactly at 100km intervals between Perth and Margaret River. We arrived basically a day later. Sweet.

We arrived for a strange patch of onshore and everything from HUGE to tiny surf. Luckily the area is set up to handle it all. We surfed a lot despite everyone else laying about complaining about no surf. We also spent a lot of time on the side of the road waiting and smoking weed with Allen, the local car repair guy.

The reason everyone was so lethargic was that the surf gets big in the area. Often. So everyone rests between swells and good wind. Needless to say, we were shocked the first time we rolled up to Margarets and saw it really doing its thing. What a site. Wow. It is a really beautiful spot and the reef was going mental. A handful of guys were out getting sick pits.

I was waiting in the line at the shitter with all of the over-adrenalized surf-bots. When I got through I saw that Andy, one of the self proclaimed "Hattie-Hats" (don't ask cuz I don't know) was already paddling out. My plan to procrastinate and spread doubt until we drove off in search of less massive waves was killed. Andy was already halfway out and Simon was suiting up. Hugh "The Sockless Wonder" Coyle looked at me with that defeated look of inevitability and started suiting up. My stomach dropped and I had to make that horrible decision, go out and get killed or stay here and be everyone's winghing poofter at the hostel?

I figured the more I thought about it the worse it would be. I suited, waxed, ran down the steps and paddled out as fast as I could. I have used this method of thoughtless pursuit of larger surf ever since that day. I go right to the spot and catch the first wave I see and ride it as far in as possible. It settles my nerves. And allows me to see the scene better. If I sit and see waves, I just freak out and psych myself out.

So that is exactly what I did. I caught a small one right off the bat. It was way larger than anything I had ever ridden and I don't remember ridding it, just looking up at the lip and doing the "Adolph Straightoff" into the channel. I sat on my board and my smile broke onto my face. I actually enjoyed it and wanted another.

As I paddled back out I saw a real set building. Everyone was caught off guard and they all were scrambling like cockroaches in the kitchen out the back. This was all to the cries of "Out the back!" Which I had never heard before and thought was super cool. At the last second a guy swung around, gave a couple quick paddles and dropped like a stone down the face. I had the best view and I screamed as loud as I could as the whitewater exploded behind him. When it cleared and he bottom turned, I looked down the face from the top of the shoulder and saw that it was Hugh "Fucking-A Right I'm Going On This One" Coyle.

That site that is forever burned into my memory, and truly one of the best experiences in my surfing life.

Newbies

Recently the SF chronical ran a story about violence in surfing. http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2009/05/07/BAA717FRCT.DTL

The ensuing commentary was outrageous to say the least. Some funny, some stupid and mostly ignorant.

Jerminator: I’ve never understood why people think it is so special to stand on a piece of wood while a wave carries it along. I’m sure it is a good feeling, but so is playing with my nuts. And I don’t punch people in the face over that….

One thing that sticks out in my mind about this article, the comments and the subject itself is that no one can ever explain to non-surfers why people get punched. It always ends up sounding like some over aggressive numb-nuts punching someone for nothing. Which, I am sure is the case sometimes. But I would say that most the time, people who fuck up in the water get away with nothing but a comment under the breath or maybe a finger pointing. I don't think that violence is the answer, but as Chris Rock says about such things, "I understand."

So I was trying to figure out a good analogy. How about this: You spend years of your life training to be the best driver in the world. You travel the world to train and test yourself so that you can enjoy the finest that automobile driving can be.

Then you save money and set yourself up with the best and most hooked up whip you could ever dream of. Some shit that makes Pimp My Ride look stupid.

One day while you are cruising in your supercar in downtown traffic, comfortable in the knowledge that no matter what happens you are prepared to handle it better than anyone else on the road. All of the sudden from between two parked cars to your right a person shoves a occupied baby stroller out into traffic. You must sacrifice your car to avoid hitting the child. By doing so you have now crashed into another vehicle causing more damage.

Are you upset? Are you upset about your car? Are you upset that now you have to deal with all of this? Are you mad at the person who let go of a stroller and let it roll into traffic?

Fuck yeah, your mad. Jebus forbid someone actually got hurt. That enters a whole 'nother area of spew.

Now. What if that person who lost control of the stroller has never walked a baby before and wasn't aware of how dangerous traffic can be to a infant? Lets just say this person is from Papau New Guinea and actually had no idea, and panicked. Would you still be mad. Fuck yes, you would. You know why? Cuz, what kind of fucking idiot pushes a child into traffic?

So when you don't have a fucking idea what you are doing in surfing, stay the fuck away from people who do. If you can't understand why surfers get mad, it is obvious you are a fucking stroller-pushing dipshit. You should go to where there aren't other surfers until enough years go by and experience dictates that, indeed, some people need a punch in the ear to sort them out. When you finally see why people need a Hawaiian donut, then you are ready to go get one.