Just before Christmas I was a bag nerves. My heart was beating fast as I drove the now familiar ‘Atlantic Highway’, and it was nothing to do with the icy conditions. I’d had the call. It was VP day; the day I would be taking my Vanity Project home.

Thanks to the snow I couldn’t make it up for the pin lining or final glassing, but Mikey from Seed had kept me in the loop about how my board was shaping up. And now I could see it in all its glory. Which is why I was worried. What if it wasn’t glorious at all?

What if what I thought would look beautiful was actually going to be garish, bright and all together tasteless?

This was the bitter side of bespoke board making. Before now I hadn’t experienced the worry that can come with custom orders. I trusted Mikey to do a great job, and he seemed happy with how it was shaping up;  the look and feel of the board wasn’t keeping him awake at night. Or maybe that’s what he tells all his customers – even if their decisions are way, way off.

As I passed the Wild West Theme Park, the turnings for Padstow and St Merryn, my concerns about how the board might look took a swerve towards panic. Panic that I’d never be able to ride it.

Mikey and I talked a lot when we started this; about how long I’ve been surfing, what sort of waves I like to ride, my paddling strength, my ability. He responded with a shape that he said would satisfy and challenge me, but what if it wouldn’t? What if he misunderstood? Thought I was more capable than I am? Created something that would be great for someone a little bit quicker, faster, stronger – but out of my league.

I could hardly breathe as I pulled into the industrial estate and switched off the engine under the Seed shop sign.

This was it.

The shop was quiet. I called out. Mikey’s grinning face peered out from the office.

‘Want to see it?’

I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure. Half of me just wanted to leave, so I could preserve the perfect image in my head of how my board would look; would ride. But before I could say anything he was off. Bolting up to the shaping room to bring it down.  There was no escape now. I would just have to go through with it.

It came through the back, tail first.

Rails pulled in to a point; it’s muted brown and orange stripes gleamed in the bright winter sunshine. The smooth rocker planed off to a wide nose which begged for a cheeky five to hang over the edge. As Mikey flipped it over, I saw the striking patterned inlay; its quirky ’60s screen printed pattern framed by precision pin lining; a gentle curve separating the colours from the creamy white panel up front. It was beautiful. Thank God.

Mikey’s grin was still there; he liked it too. It was all alright. No need for the panic, worry or wheel skids as my mind had been wandering on the way up. I loved it.

As I stroked the rails, felt the weight, held it under my arm, we talked again. This time about the fin set up, what would work best, when I would get the chance to get her in the water. I was getting excited.

And now I am here. Still excited two weeks later. Out of the water a third time after its first few sessions.

Blue sky, cold air, punchy waves; perfect board. Mikey was right – he’s made something that fits me perfectly. Pushes me but responds to me. Something I find easy to paddle, take off and turn. But something that I know will make me a better surfer too.

As I stand here with my brand new board under my arm I think back to why I started this in the first place. To have something I was proud of, something that made me feel great in the water. Something that looked beautiful; to me.

I know that custom made boards are all about personal taste and that one board isn’t going to look and feel right for everyone. But stood here right now, on the shoreline, after a great surf, I have to say the taste of my own little Vanity Project is pretty sweet.

Find out how I got here with The Vanity Project part I, II, III and IV.

I always new surfing was about quick thinking. There’s no time to dally when you’re hunting for your wave of the day. A second’s pause could make the difference between total stoke and total slam. But shaping? Well that’s more considered, right? Carefully and tenderly crafting something beautiful, purely through skilful hands and measured movements.  Not exactly.

Of course, it’s all about know-how. Talent, knowledge and experience are required by the bucket load when it comes to top notch boardmaking but so, it seems, is a rather speedier cog whirring ratio than I’d ever bargained for. That is, if the Vanity Project is anything to go by.

Mikey is up to stage three on my bespoke board and the atmosphere in the Seed workshop feels decidedly different. Less excited about the possibilities and more focused on getting it exactly right.

His eyes are moving left and right and I can practically hear the brain cells fizzing.  “Our spur of the moment decision has come back to bite us,” he mutters, looking at the fabric as he gets out his scissors, curves, string, pencils. He’s calculating how to make this work; to make the best looking board he can out of a raggedy square of ’60s style print. “There’s the logistics of the pattern to consider, lining it up with the colours on the underside, making sure it’s perfect.”

It’s not just my board being difficult. Fabric inlays require some serious brain time. Choosing a fabric that won’t add too much weight, making sure the material doesn’t bubble under the resin, ensuring everything lines up and looks good; getting neat, sharp edges. It’s a risky business, but a worthwhile one. I’ve seen the results. There’s some tasty examples out there from the classic styles sported by Bing Lovebirds, to the quirkier stuff that Joel Tudor’s Kookboxx is turning out.  So making sure the Vanity Project steps up to the mark is obviously going to take work. And all Mikey’s faculties.

“I’m not willing to compromise,” he explains as he airjets off a pencil line that doesn’t have quite the right curve in it for his liking. “It’s such a permanent thing at this stage and I can just tell if it’s not right, by look and feel.”

Of course I am happy about his perfectionist tendencies. My board is going to be all the better for it. And there’s something exciting about seeing someone working in such a precise and focused manner on something that ultimately I get to walk out the shop with. I feel lucky as I watch him measure by eye; executing his plan for a better curve with a homemade compass. I’m safe in the knowledge that at the end of the day I’m going to reap the rewards. Mikey’s furrowed brow is my sleeping easy.

“It’s funny, because you have an idea in your mind and sometimes you have to tweak and tease that idea as you go along to make sure you get the best result,” he explains as he mixes up the resin to lap over the fabric, which is skirted by masking tape as an raised indicator for him to feel where it will need cutting. “There’s no point thinking about it too much though, often you’ll try and find a better solution and end up coming back to plan number one in the first place. I have learnt to trust my instincts and believe in the process but there’s still a bit of thinking on my feet involved too.”

I leave Mikey as he starts to glass the board, all this quick thinking is making my head hurt. Although that could just be the fumes. Again.

Until next time…

Read previous instalments of The Vanity Project; Part I and Part II

“I always knew that for me, working life was going to be about making stuff.” Mikey is smiling. And so am I. Looking at my board as it sits, bright, crisp and clean in the workshop I understand what he means. Making stuff is clearly in his blood.

I’ve come back up to Seed Surf Co. in Wadebridge to talk about phase II of the Vanity Project, but at the moment I’m too busy revelling in phase I; how Mikey has taken those early discussions we had and turned it into something bespoke, beautiful, rideable.

“I’ve brought the tail right in, rolled the rails slightly, given you a rolled entry into single concave and flat out the tail. This should help the water flow and create a nice bit of glide. It’s light, but I’ve kept the volume so it is easy to get onto waves,” he explains, “it’s going to be great fun to ride – in fact I think I might have to make one for myself.”

As we talk he runs his finger along the rails, peers down the stringer, lightly sands an edge. Even though shaping’s over, you can sort of tell he’s not done with it – that if he could he would be fine tuning for days. “I am definitely a perfectionist,” he laughs as we carry the board through to the glassing room, “I think it comes from working with my Dad when I was younger – that was pretty meticulous stuff.” He tells me that he spent his teenage years in Surrey masking and spraying for the likes of British Aerospace and Mclaren F1 as part of his Dad’s business. That coupled with restoring old cars and making skateboards in his garage explains the eye for detail – but what about the shaping skills?

“The guys at Revolver really set me up,” he explains. “I came to Newquay when I was 19 with an armful of skates to sell to shops in the town. I walked into Revolver because I liked the look of it and never left!”  Mikey  sat in and watched as Matt Bevis and the rest of the Revolver crew shaped, chatted and flaunted their wares, eventually setting up a workshop opposite Bevis where he continued to hone his craft.

But it wasn’t just the skills that took shape, working and playing with Revolver influenced his visual aesthetic too – a style we begin to delve into as we choose what coat my board should be wearing. I am already a sucker for the Sixties – Mad Men is practically etched into my eyelids right now – so I know I have come to the right man. References to the halcyon days of surfing dominate every corner – from the battered old suitcases and soda syphons which decorate his shop, to the muted colours sported in his board rack and the bold patterns hanging on his walls.

It’s these patterns that Mikey suggests as a starting point for my board, taking the materials used by quirky boardsock makers Odd Socks as inspiration. We talk fabric inlays, tiger stripes and burnt oranges. We dig around in a black bag of curtains, sheets and tablecloths; laying out scraps and offcuts on the floor to see if there is anything that grabs us. Mikey’s brain starts ticking as he suggests a way to tie the design together; create something that really stands out. He looks excited.

Colours chosen, Mikey sets to work, mixing pigments into purple goopy resin, colourmatching by eye, adding a spot; stirring, a spot more; stirring. “This is why people call me ridiculously anal,” Mikey laughs his arm tiring from all the mixing. “I just want to get it exact, it might be your board but it’s my brand out there, my handiwork; I want it to be something I’m proud of.” His passion and precision is comforting at a point when the fate of my board’s look and feel is about to be laid on the line.

With six different shades of yellow, brown and orange tint all prepared, he’s ready to start. This is creativity against the clock, because as soon as the catalyst hits the tinted resin there’s just twenty minutes to lap the board and get the design down. We put our masks on. He starts to pour.

Half an hour later and I am driving home, brain a little fuzzy from the fumes. The underside of the board is looking great and I can’t wait until next week when I’ll be back up to see how Mikey does the fabric inlay.

Tiny Danceris keeping me company on the Golden Oldies and I am grinning from ear to ear. It’s making me giddy, this process, I am genuinely revelling in it. Although that could be the chemicals. Whatever. Smiling until your face aches is a pretty good way to start and finish the day.

Until next time…

–

Check out The Vanity Project, Part I to find out how it all began

20 September 2010, Day I.

Second-hand is fine, I’ve always told myself. Second-hand is easier, cheaper, less to worry about. I’ve always been clumsy, both on the land and in the water so knowing that the boards I own have already been through the mill and won’t suffer too badly from the old ‘carpark finger-slip’ combination or a rock-bumping wipeout has been comforting to me.

With the surface scratches, pressure marks and discolouration of preloved boards came the reassurance that whether my board got mishandled by baggage claim flying back from Brazil or whether it flew itself, off the roof of my car going full speed on the dual carriage way (true story), I wouldn’t have to lose too much sleep over it. For someone like me, pride and joy seemed misplaced when it came to recreational water-based activities.

However, despite the years of enjoyment  I’ve had out of my bashed up yet much loved McTavish, my fun-loving factory-made egg and my anonymous bright red beast complete with ‘Jesus Loves You’ written on its stringer, simply known as Crazy Tracy, something has been nagging at me. It’s there in the pit of my stomach every time I walk to the water’s edge, eyeing up everyone elses as they prepare to paddle out. It’s there when I log on and see the treats that Sea , Revelation and Mandala have to offer. It’s there when my less clumsy friend brags about his beautiful, bespoke fish with custom glass job which sits shiny and new on his study wall. Envy.

I don’t need one, of course. My second-hand quiver is fit for all occasions. It has served me well. I know that. But this isn’t about need. I want a board that deserves to be on a wall rather than behind a sofa. A board that makes mouths water when I stand on the shoreline with it clutched under my arm. A board that has been made for my tastes, my gangly limbs, my ability. I want my stomach to settle, to get rid of the relentless envy eating away at me.

So it’s to be a vanity project then, pure and simple. It’s time for me to put aside my fear of dings and damages and invest in something eye-catching, something stunning, something that’s mine and mine alone.

“It’s not about retro boards, it’s about performance focused modern boards with a classic aesthetic. I want to take the best of the past and combine it with current knowledge.” Mikey from Seed Surf Co. is talking my language. His classically-inspired industrial unit on Dunveth Business Park in Wadebridge says it all. Surrounded by kitchen fitters and scrap metal dealers, he has carved out a little slice of old school soul, from the restored camper van out front to the bleached-out photos hung on the walls inside. This place is a breath of fresh air in the high paced, fashion orientated, trend following surf industry of today. Then there’s the boards. Each one a work of art, with muted colours, loose lines and flourishes a-plenty. They look beautiful.

But it’s not all about style. There’s substance to Seed Surf Co. too. Along with the masterful tint work which gives his boards such a stand-out look, he’s got the local surf knowledge and shaping skills to make sure there’s something pretty special under the glass, something designed for British waves that promises to pack a real punch.

“I’ve got a couple of super talented friends who are committed thruster fans, so I get them try out my shapes,” Mikey explains. “They’ve been flying on the quad, fish and other short boards I’ve been making. I’m trying to take my boards to more of a performance place and it seems to be going down well.”

He shows me around the workshop. There’s a multi-press screen printing machine thing in one corner, a broken board in the other and a lot of paint in between. Mikey’s sideline is in screenprinting, a business he bought in 2008, relocated and then gradually introduced his shaping trade into. It means he can think designs, colours, t-shirt prints, posters, shapes, tints and glass jobs all in the same space at the same time – great for getting the creative juices flowing. Upstairs in the board room I see a couple of his works-in-progress on the bench, both featuring tasty colour combinations; interesting designs. “The whole creative attitude to surfing is only just taking off over here,” he continues. ” There’s guys like Squire, Diplock Phoenix, and Empire pushing the scene forward and it’s great to be considered a part of that.”

I like Mikey.  He knows his stuff and he’s humble too. Easy to get along with. We chat about my vanity project, about what I am after, about what I want it to do.  We talk specs and he convinces me to go smaller, lighter; to consider challenging myself a little, pushing out of my comfort zone for an ultimately better ride.

He’s right. If I’ve learned one thing from what Mikey does it’s that looking good is only half the battle. And if I want a board that I’m proud of it should be one that I love to ride too.

I’m excited. I’ve never been excited about getting a board before. This is all new to me. It’s not envy sitting at the pit of my stomach as I sign the order form. It’s butterflies. Let the Vanity Project commence…

What is Seed Surf Company??
Seed is a culmination of everything I love doing really. It was born out of my passion for quality and uniqueness, and it grew (excuse the pun) out of my hobby: making boards for me and my friends.
Each board is 100% hand-shaped then glassed and finished in-house; same goes for the skates and the organic, art-driven clothing. Everything is produced on the premises. When I got the chance to open the shop I wanted it to be a friendly place. Somewhere people could check out boards, order a custom, pick up a tee, check out the art. I wanted the shop front to represent what was going on out the back in the factory.

How did you get into shaping and who was/is your inspiration?
That’s a big question! I started making skates when I was 12 after seeing guys surfing on trips to Barbados and Florida. Because I was landlocked I decided I was gonna surf the streets. It sounds pretty corny now, but I think I called the first board I made a skurf board!
My first experience of surfboard shaping was watching Jools at Gulfstream – it focussed me on what I really wanted to do. Shortly after that I moved to Cornwall and got a workshop opposite shaper Matt Bevis, who was shaping for Revolver at the time. I did a bit of spray work and pinstriping for him and got to sit in and watch him shape and his glasser Rob do the tint work. So they were a big influence on me. From that I started mowing a bit of foam, playing round with different shapes and learning about different shapers.
I was 19 when I finished my first singlefin; I carried on making boards for myself and my friends, and I also started glassing my skates playing around with different lay ups.
My influences in shaping terms have definitely changed over the years, but the quality and craftsmanship I learnt when restoring cars with my pa has always been a constant. Nowadays the people I respect and who influence me are kinda split into two categories: the older guys like Skip Frye and Malcolm Campbell, and the younger guys like Dain Thomas of Sea Surfboards, Robbie Kegel of Gato Haroi, Josh Hall and Ryan Lovelace. Manny Caro of Mandala and Michael Miller are currently my biggest influences. Mandala for the beautifully finished boards and Michael Miller for going the whole nine yards – shaping, glassing, fins and finishing. The younger guys are bringing some fresh ideas, and they’re all extremely talented craftsmen, but I particularly admire the Campbell brothers for sticking to their guns: for 30 years they pioneered and championed the Bonzer, and it’s only in the last few years that they have received any credit for it.

Tell me about the skate decks…?
The skate decks are where it all started really; they’ve gone through so many different incarnations over the years. I was testing my first boards on the hills where I grew up, showing off how amazingly flexy they were and how you could just bounce on them… and snapped one clean in half! They’re a bit different nowadays!
We lay up, glue and press seven different shapes by hand – we can change the way they ride depending on what we use in the lay-up, which makes them pretty unique. Then we tint and polish them, so they really are one-offs.
The ply and fibreglass give them a real nice feel underfoot and a pop between carves. We’ve used different materials in the past, even building a superlight downhill gun for the Bude downhill classic in 2007. We used high-density foam that McLaren F1 use in their front wings for the core, covered it in carbon fibre and used up-mounted Holey trucks with 86mm wheels. Our team rider Tommo Clinton was up in first place on his first run at Bude before breaking his elbow on the second run! I think there’s still a clip up on YouTube of that one!

You have a pretty unique set-up, because all your boards are produced in-house – do you still find time to surf??
I do spend a lot of my time overseeing the print shop or in the shaping room, but I manage to sneak some waves in. When I’ve made a board I still get a thrill from getting it in the water, and if I’ve made boards for friends I really want to know how they go. There’s nothing quite like seeing something through from start to finish and being in control of every process. Running your own business does come with its advantages – I probably surf more good days now than I used to cos I can get a dawny and not worry about being late to work!

What’s in your quiver?
It’s kind of ever-changing, but at the moment:
9’6 rounded-pin singlefin log
9’6 singlefin log
9’1 rounded-pin big blue
8’6 pig
7’6 rounded-pin egg
7’2 Jethro! 1970s singlefin
6’7 1970s Bilbo
6’4 mini log/egg
5’10 hull

Can you imagine your life without surfing? What would you be doing instead??
Not really, no! I would have to be doing something hands-on, probably restoring old cars. I’ve always had a love for 1960s and pre-1960s cars. I bought my first car when I was 15 – it was a 1965 beetle, which my dad and I restored in time for my driving test. Then there’s the Seed van – it’s definitely been passed down from the old man! There’s something about the 60s – I love pretty much everything that came out of that era, be it surfing, cars or music.

What are you rocking in the Seed shop right now??
We’ve got a fair bit kicking about this little shop really… There are a few off-the-rack boards, some skates, all our own clothing for guys and girls and a few pieces from White and Nerdy.
We’re the first guys in the country to sell hats from Krochet Kids, a US company that’s fighting for change in Africa: all their hats are handmade out there and each is signed by its maker.
We’ve got handmade boardsocks from Odd Socks in Bude, which are made on a 1920s Singer sewing machine, fins from True Ames, a few dvds, and some bits from our friends at the Tea Appreciation Society.
Up on the walls there’s work from a couple of different artists and photographers. The shop has given us the opportunity to work with some real talented people and we hosted a couple of art shows over the summer for people like Keiron ‘Seamouse’ Lewis, Dan Crockett and Caroline Pedler.

How can people find you & get in touch??
They can come up to Wadebridge and check out the shop/factory (15 Dunveth BP, Wadebridge, Cornwall, PL27 7FE), have a cuppa and a chat. Or jump on the tinterweb and check the blog to find out what we’ve been up to recently, the Seed Surf Co official site or join us on the myface.

Looking to the future, what’s next?
I want to keep learning and progressing – experimentation and knowledge is the reason I make boards. I’m sure this is the same for a lot of shapers and I look forward to working with a few guys to further my skills.
We’ve got some things lined up for next summer at Seed – we’re gonna re-launch the shop with a couple of new surfboard models, some new skate shapes and fresh tee designs. Hopefully we’ll get some artwork/photos from Friend of Mine and have a bit of a party!
Apart from that we’re gonna have demo boards in the shop, collaborate with a couple of artists on a few board designs, and we’re working on a small snippet video. And, if I’ve got the time, we might create Seed boardies and hand-foiled hardwood and ply fins.

Any shout outs, props, name drops & last words?
?Best start with the most important: my lady Charlie for putting up with me, and my mum and dad for their support and guidance, especially when it comes to the business side of things!
Jimbo at Dream Sessions in Newquay for stocking some boards, Zaid, Ben and Woody of the People’s String Foundation for the music, El at White and Nerdy for his help over the years, Alysha for her fine paintings, Ben for helping build the shop, our kid JC and our lass Ali, Rich at Friend of Mine, Shayne at the TeaAppreciation Society for helping with promo, Seamouse and Crockett for helping with the shop opening…
The crew at Krochet Kids for supplying us with some quality hats/beanies and the guys and girls representing over in Oz: Tommo and Dougy, Millie my travel photographer and Steve, Mandi, Chris and the girls.
Seed hasn’t ever just been me: over the years it’s been all the people that have helped out or inspired me so I’d like to thank them and everyone who has been involved or supported us.