The music’s provided by Luciano’s friend Marcos Garcindo, aka Duotonic.

The wishthound gave me a new skateboard a month or so ago, much to my wife’s disgust I might add.

Since then i’ve spent an enjoyable number of hours (in upstanding member of the community fashion not like a ne’er do well abusing council property or anything :-)) rolling around Barnstaple’s new-ish skatepark. I have discovered a few things:

Firstly I’d forgotten how much fun skating is, not having ridden anything other than a big long skateboard for 5 years. I can actually remember how to do some tricks though i’ve forgotten more. Each time I leave for home, I remember something else that I should have tried, a trick that used to languish in the bottom of the trick bag. all those years ago. There is still that same satisfaction from landing something (however simple now) and rolling away clean that never changes.

Secondly, I don’t bounce like I did 10 years ago. I have a fraction of the bottle I used to have – gone are the days of throwing myself down sets of stairs with abandon. The threat of broken limbs & their consequences loom ever larger and well, concrete is hard and it hurts, for a lot longer as well at my advanced age. In the wishthound’s words, the ability curve for surfing is gradual but with an overall upward trend for most of your life, with skating it peaks early and it’s pretty much all downhill from there, but if you’re having fun, who cares right?

Thirdly, like surfing, it never truly leaves. Skateboarding was a big part of my growing up, becoming a man, it shaped my future path in life in a way that I only recently understand. It changes how you look at the physical world we interact with on a daily basis and I don’t think you ever fully forget that or ever lose the desire to skate, it’s just your body that lets you down. Even though there are a couple of long periods when I haven’t rolled around, it’s always in there bubbling away under the surface.

Finally kids today have it easy! The park in the pictures is one of at least five small skate facilities (off the top of my head) within a 30-minute drive, in a relatively rural area, all well built and good to skate. Back in the early nineties, my friend’s mum fought for years for our midland council to build some ramps and when they did it was virtually unusable. Skateboarding is acceptable now in a way that it never was when I started (though there is still a punk ethos like there used to be once you dig beneath the shiny veneer of Tony Hawk & the x games)

Kids today learn tricks in their first year that were beyond the imagination of the pros of the eighties and it’s easy to learn them because the boards are light and you can see things to inspire you in magazines, dvd’s, on youtube and in your local town. Things never used to be like that (please excuse the monty python style “it were hard in my day” monologue but..)

Take learning to ollie for example, essential basic skating building block. That took us ages to learn, we had heard reference to it and seen stills of people in the air but never actually seen a video or much less anyone do it in real life. Our town had no older skaters to copy and it wasn’t until a friend of a friend managed to get a photocopy of a “how to” from an old mag that we managed to see how it was done, before that it might as well have been magic. In fact I can still remember the afternoon my friend and I first managed to properly leave the ground.

Steve Pezman has a great quote in Andrew Kidman’s ‘Glass Love’ where he talks about surfing as you get older being just as challenging and rewarding even though your actual ability level might be decreasing as your body ages. His point is that as even the simpler things become harder, the satisfaction in still achieving them increases and the sum total of joy (or stoke if you like) in that is the same as it ever was. I think he’s right and the same applies to skating, surfing, pretty much any physical activity

So here’s to my fellow old skaters with a peter pan complex! It’s a shame I have a princess-obsessed daughter, because a son might have given me the perfect, spouse-approved, excuse to keep going!

Incidentally I just saw the latest Flip Skateboards movie (Extremely Sorry) The level of skating is fully RIDICULOUS!  I always have a soft spot for Flip, being the phoenix from the ashes of Classic Brit brand Deathbox & sponsors of two of my favorite ever skaters Tom Penny & Geoff Rowley. Their new dvd is well worth a watch if you get the chance, just not with any young impressionable children in attendance!

]]> http://www.driftsurfing.eu/index.php/archives/4520/feed http://www.driftsurfing.eu/index.php/archives/4512 http://www.driftsurfing.eu/index.php/archives/4512#comments Tue, 09 Mar 2010 20:06:57 +0000 Jamie P http://www.driftsurfing.eu/?p=4512 Most of us shy away from philosophy. It’s irrelevant; too complex, too boring, too time-consuming. But did you know that ‘philosophy’ translates literally from Greek as ‘love of knowledge’? So if your idea of a good education is spending hours on Swaylocks researching displacement hulls, you can still safely consider yourself a philosopher. Or a philo-surfer. Geddit?

Surfing is a surprisingly good prism through which we can look at life. But why do we surf? And can the answer to that question help us to understand how we live our lives in general?

The most traditional way of understanding our place on earth was first struck upon by Aristotle, more than 2,000 years ago. He suggested that each of us has a predetermined ‘essential’ destiny to fulfil, and to not achieve that was to fail at life. Such a way of thinking seems to pervade surfing – what surfer doesn’t felt a sense of destiny, of belonging, the first time they slide down the face of a wave? The experience is something we long to inherit or pass on. In Hawai’i, giant olo boards were handed down through generations of watermen, and today, groms from surfing dynasties like the Currens or the Keaulanas apparently still feel the same irresistible pull towards the ocean. In the south of France I saw, carved into a lifeguard hut, a line paraphrasing Simone de Beauvoir, which I thought summed this up pretty well – “One does not become a waterman, but is born one”.

Which brings us to a school of thought that lies at the opposite end of the spectrum to Aristotle’s vision of destiny – existentialism. Here, we are free to make exactly what we want of life: it is a blank page waiting to be written. Existentialism is that ‘living in the moment’ sensation we feel when we surf. Once you’re in the water, that wondrous moment when you feel at one with the wave, when everything comes right and you’re swept up, pushed along, taking that first breath of cool, salty air as the spray licks your face and you spring to your feet, when the day’s cares vanish and your mind becomes a beautiful blank, totally tuned into the ocean – that’s existentialism. It’s the love of the present without recourse to the past or future. When I spoke to Andy Martin recently, he mentioned how the great existentialist Jean-Paul Sartre likened life to surfing in that, unlike skiing, it “leaves no trace”.

But all this freedom that existentialism supposedly offers us comes with a catch: we are “condemned to be free”, said Sartre. The more we surf, the more we need to surf. What starts as a tickle becomes an insatiable itch that must be scratched. And as the passion for that existential moment becomes overriding, we must eschew the destructive conformity of regular life in search of waves, or risk the spiritual death of living in “bad faith”. Not such an easy task for those unable or unwilling to shrug of the mundanity of education, family life and regular work.

So what is it to be, surfing and life as ‘essential’ or ‘existential’? Who knows, and frankly does it matter? Whether you feel you were always meant to be on a board, or you caught your first wave as the result of some happy accident, most surfers would agree that the sense of freedom they get from slipping across the ocean is what it’s all about. Sure, we might not actually be ‘free’ – but for those few moments, nothing else really matters. Some things simply defy categorisation.

For a friend’s birthday we got him a blank to shape, another friend is lending him a stable on his farm to create the new beauty in! Summer dreams all round.

This season I am happy to say that we’ve got the new Bay Surf Thermal (in three colours for guys and two for the ladies). I have been wearing mine under my wetsuit for a while. So I’m sat dreaming of the summer, but with a happy glow because I know that I will be warm this winter.

This film was sent to us by The Fish Film Company, and documents the findings of a book by Charles Clover, the Environment Editor of the Daily Telegraph.

In the film we see how fishing companies have depleted fish stocks to a point where recovery is impossible. In particular the film follows the fate of the Blue Fin tuna, but also highlights the plight of the Atlantic cod, a species fished to just ten per cent of its global numbers in recent years.

The film focusses on the lack of awareness amongst the public, and why there is a lack of political will to change the fishing methods throughout the globe. The film asks some very awkward questions of offenders, and shows why it is effectively easy to fish a species to death.

Central to the theme of the film is the idea that as a result of climate change, one of the biggest challenges we face is the ability to feed ourselves. The film reminds us that if we had not fished the oceans to the brink, we would be able to count on fish stocks as a sustainable method of food production in the future. The film highlights how international companies can often buy fishing rights in developing countries, leaving the local population unable to fish for themselves or their families.

It’s an enlightening, if depressing, insight into the worlds fishing industry.

But there’s been something lacking; something my brother has had no shortage of – surf.

I’ve spent five months on an island that’s host to some of the best surf breaks in the world, surrounded by crystal-clear, warm water. But I spent three of those five months without surf. I’ll admit it: I cried a little.

There are many reasons for my surfless Oz adventure. I spent a month in Cairns, the awe-inspiring Barrier Reef providing some salt-water therapy during my dive course… But there was no decent surf for thousands of kms.

The second month I spent travelling from Perth to Darwin. Sure, western Oz has some of the most insane line-ups you could ever get your stick wet in, and the mutant slabs of Margaret River offer suicidal-looking, dredging barrels on the right swell. But there wasn’t any. It looked promising for one brief day, but there was no way I was going to tackle 6-foot shore dumps in just inches of water – I left that to the local spongers.

Then I hit Sydney, home of the infamous Bondi beach. What a let down. The conditions weren’t appealing, especially after a couple months out of the water: shallow sandbanks, heavy shore breaks and hefty rip currents.

But things have changed over the last two months. I’m slowly turning the tide on my brother’s tales of winter swell. I’m living the dream in a van on the East Coast. The sun is shining and the swell is consistent. And my brother gets more and more pissed off every time he checks his email or Facebook.

It hasn’t been an easy two months, not by a long shot. I’ve had to go through the ordeal of re-losing my surf virginity, in Australian waters on unfamiliar breaks.

I grabbed my 9 footer and enthusiastically got stuck in to something I thought I could easily handle at Manly beach: 3-4 foot. But I was out of practice, out of energy, and out of patience. I spent the very brief session trying to re-learn the sets, paddling unsuccessfully into waves and resigning myself to white-water rides.

Things began to pick up when I headed to the Great Ocean Road, and I enjoyed a smaller session at Torquay beach, and another on the way back at some nice horseshoe bay. I felt better – I’d eased myself in and taken it slow; I was getting to know the ocean again before going all the way.

I made my way up to Byron, hitting a high with a sunset session at Park Beach North in Coffs Harbour; a slightly more punchy left with the advantage of being the only one out – every surfer’s dream.

Since arriving at Byron, I’ve scored numerous session at The Pass, Clarkes Beach and Watego. I’m back in the pack again.

I’m now holed up on the Gold Coast before heading to Noosa for some proper logging waves. I’m in the water most days and my stamina and performance are slowly picking up.

Yes, this article is meant to make you jealous of the fact that I’m sunning it up, sampling beautiful breaks, free of the constraints of the English climate and the rubber it requires. But – more importantly – I hope it makes you realise the importance of getting in the water as often as possible, even if it’s just to paddle up and down the beach.

Re-losing your surf virginity is painful and annoying.

Make your mum proud – stay a surf slut.

The recent earthquake and tsunami has caused devastation to parts of Chile, in particular the remote rural areas south of Concepcion, where the charity Save the Waves has focused much of their environmental work. They are currently lobbying for support of their humanitarian relief project in Chile [thanks to Josh Berry from Save the Waves]…

A massive earthquake and tsunami hit Chile this weekend. The earthquake epicentre was just 5km from Save the Waves Coalition’s Maule Itata Coast keeper office and is where Save the Waves’ environmental advocacy efforts are focused. The earthquake and tidal wave damage to the area where Save the Waves works is devastating. Friends, colleagues and neighbours in coastal Chile need everyone’s help now more than ever before. The destruction to infrastructure is severe, and includes massive damage to structures, drinking water systems, power, transportation, and communication. This means that aid and relief in the next few weeks will be crucial to help save lives.

Because Save the Waves Coalition’s ongoing environmental work is in the exact same area as the disaster, the organization is uniquely positioned to help direct humanitarian relief efforts in the region. Save the Waves is organizing a focused relief effort to this hardest hit region of Chile, including a humanitarian aid trip this week with a team that includes doctors, medics, and other relief workers. The organization is now accepting donations to support travel to the region to distribute water filters, medical treatment and supplies, local relief supplies, and camping gear to the affected coastal areas.

The primary focus of the mission will be to help provide clean drinking water to the hundreds of thousands of Chileans who are currently without water. Save the Waves is partnering with Waves for Water to distribute water filters for clean drinking water, and hopes to get up to 1,000 filters - enough for 10,000 people to get clean water - distributed in coastal Chile during the first week, with much more to follow. Waves for Water has extensive experience in providing clean water for disaster relief, and successfully distributed over 4,000 water filter systems to Haiti in the wake of the recent earthquake there, providing clean drinking water for up to 40,000 people.

Patagonia, the outdoor apparel company, has stepped up and provided significant support for this initiative, and has been rallying others to join the cause.

All donations to Save the Waves for Chile earthquake relief will go directly to humanitarian work on the ground in the devastated regions near the quake and tsunami epicentre. Humanitarian aid efforts will be focused in the more rural coastal areas, between the major cities, where help and aid will generally be less available. Since Save The Waves is a small and nimble organization with years of experience in coastal Chile, support for this effort will be extremely effective, with no bureaucratic filters, no delays, and just pure aid for the coastal communities that are in dire need. Donate and learn more at the link below.

PLEASE DONATE & HELP SAVE THE WAVES EARTHQUAKE RELIEF IN CHILE

I’m going to expand a little on the things I touched on in A quiver approach – if you’ve already read it you’ll know there is a common thread to my own choice of surfcraft. Personally I believe style is all important in surfing, I don’t care how radical your turns are, if you have an ugly style, I’m not interested.

Having been initially drawn to the style inherent in traditional longboarding, once I started to experiment with shorter boards I looked for shapes that would still allow a smooth flowing style, one that works with the wave, rather than trying to beat it into submission.

When I’m trying to explain it to others I often term it like this: conventional shortboarding is all based on getting vertical, drawing very “up & down” lines on the wave. The surfing I’m into is based very much on drawing more flowing lateral lines on the wave, heavy singlefin logs on small waves, two- and four-fin fish on bigger waves and, lately, the ultimate lateral trim machine – the displacement hull.

If you watch a decent amount of video of these designs you will notice that there is a consistency to the tracks they draw, even though the direction changes may get a little more radical as the length comes down. I think you can draw a line through history based on this observation, from the very earliest surfcraft  through to these modern boards, whereas modern day shortboards represent the endpoint of a branch that sprouted following the “shortboard” revoloution of the late sixties when there was a global reaction against almost the principal of “trim” itself.

Some of you will relate to that, some of you will think it’s boring surfing. Thats cool. Each to their own – the world would be a boring place if we all liked the same thing. but I know I’m not the only one who feels this way.