I’m currently perfecting my technique of launching the 9-oh into the 3 foot shore dump, direct to the nose for a split second of crouched bliss and then punch through the tiny lip into 2 feet of water rushing up the steep beach.
Micro-seconds of trim can be stretched out into hours of joy.
A few weeks back, I was out scavenging the northern Bahia de Banderas coast for anything that looked like ridable waves. My tour of the local breaks brought me to Punta Mita, where I caught a few good ankle biters and then managed to snap off a few good shots.
As I was shooting the bevy of longboarders from the tip of a breakwater jetty, I caught the attention of a group of visiting “old dude” surfers throwing shakas my way (through my 100-400mm lens) as they were hanging out in the shade, on the beach. As I finished up and made my way over to the group, I was greeted by a guy by the name of Joe Doggett. It turns out Joe and his buddies return year after year, to Punta Mita, the ‘Mexican Malibu’ as he called it. We exchanged local surf break information and traded horror stories of how the area is rapidly changing due to spiralling out-of-control development. Joe mentioned that he had been a writer for the Houston Chronicle.
We eventually came around to the history of surfing in the area and how Punta Mita was discovered. Joe related parts of a September 1965 Surfer Magazine article, written by Bill Cleary, about his feral surf expedition on the hunt for “Mexico’s Malibu” as discovered by a screenwriter named Peter Viertel who found the fabled break while daytripping through the bay’s several breaks while his wife, actress Deborah Kerr, filmed her scenes in Night of the Iguana (the movie that literally put Vallarta on the map).
Joe Doggett’s stories and impressive knowledge of surf history, had me kicking my own teeth in, after I said goodbye to Joe and the crew without asking for his contact info or email address. A few days after I posted the photos from that day, flickr user Rex Enigma commented on Joe’s photo above, asking if it was indeed thee “Joe Doggett” and today Rex hipped me to a recent article in The Houston Chronicle, where Joe goes briefly in to Cleary’s 1965 Surfer Mag article and than continues on with his own long and varied history of visiting Mazatlan and Vallarta in search of surf breaks and the “Mexican Malibu”:
‘Mexican Malibu’ offers surfers a secret paradise - By Joe Doggett for The Houston Chronicle
Other spots were excellent, but the Mexican Malibu was a no-show not enough swell, wrong angle, wrong tide, wrong week, wrong season, on and on over dispirited bottles of Pacifico beer at the cantina overlooking the beach.
Nirvana, at last
Then, as if in a dream, it was there. Last year, we pulled the board-racked vehicle to a stop and watched in disbelief as ruler-edged powder-green walls brushed by straight offshore wind peeled into the cove. We caught the Mexican Malibu for six consecutive days, with the swell peaking at 2 to 3 feet overhead. This spring, our trip was highlighted by three days of Mexican Malibu, with shoulder- to head-high sets each session. This literal groundswell of riches only can support the virtues of patience and confidence.
It’s an amazing story and a great read. I flipped out, as I read it and thought back to my conversation with Joe. Understanding the history behind this place I live in and how it fits in to the larger surf cannon never really even occurred to me, until my talk with Joe and his boys. I’d like to send a big, cosmic, shaka bra thank you, out there to Joe for unfolding a lesson and sparking a light in a new corner of my consciousness. I’m in his debt.
Incidentally, if there are any surf-memorabilia pack rats out there, that might just have the Sept ‘65 Surfer Mag squirreled away somewhere, I’d give my first born for a scanned pdf of the Cleary ‘Mexican Malibu’ article. My first born or some newly minted gold bullion. your choice.
The top shot taken on a surf trip to Ostula Michoacan, in August of ‘07 and the bottom shot, taken at local mainstay Quesadillas. Visual cousins.
On a side note: some jerkwad burned the ramada down at Quesadillas, this past week. The one the bottom picture was taken through. Nothing that can’t be rebuilt with a little hard sweat and a machete, but definitely a random, unnecessary act of destruction. totally bummer.
Sometimes the journey is the destination, taken down the way from La Lancha’s trash-strewn parking lot.
Went searchin’, today, for any pre-cursors of the incoming swell. There’s definitely a lot of chop and the bay is looking super worked from all the air. But no real swell and any uptick is blown out in the massive wind. Conversely, the kiteboarders are having a field day. All along the beach in bucerias day-glow parachutes whiz above the tree tops.
Why? cuz kitties are cute. that’s why. that and the fact that Ana can surf a short board better than you. She shreads! Put gnarly surf chicks together with kitties and it’s photo gold, my friend. works every time.
With impending swell on the way, I went for an 8:30am checkup. not too early to catch the morning session (and accompanying traffic jam of earth moving vehicles, buses and pick up trucks stacked to the gills with albañiles - all on their way out to Punta Mita to make luxury houses for the richie riches). and not too late, before the rays start to bake you alive and the wind whips the water into a blown-out, frothish frenzy.
Assuming there’d be at least some kind of swell, I over-shot and brought the shortboard. Rolled up to “the spot” to find 16 longboarders with occasional two to three footers. With nice, glassy conditions there were some nice waves coming through, an uptick from last week, but nothing chewable for a 6′0″. I surveyed the scene for a while. Some longboarder chick was rockin’ it, inna fine style. Amazing leg work, subtle and steady. Just as a I grabbed the camera, she headed back to shore.
Back to the break at 6:00pm with the wind whipping everything into fine white foam. This time the 6′0″ worked nicely on the slightly larger set waves, but with no real power in ‘em, they’re what I’d call “lazy”. I still had fun and being back out the shortboard was a nice change from the waterlog, good paddle practice for any incoming swell and nice to work out those shortboard legs.
Last week was spent trimming ankle slappers. But sometimes you just need a taste. Not a local to be seen in the water. A ghost town populated by visiting surf families with multiple surf instructors.
Survey sez: major swell approaching. Depending on who you ask, it’ll arrive here Wed or Fri, I’m betting on Wednesday. Spent this weekend repairing mis cuatro tablas. Each board with varying degrees of dings, bruises and gashes. The fish had a nice run in with a visiting mini super grom whose soccer dad was video taping him, as I ducked the wrong way and his skagg put a nice 6 inch gash into my rail. The super-light ATL 6′0″ had a nice little nose ding, with foam showing, probably from out-of-the-water damage. and the longboard had a year’s worth of gouges and scrapes, it ain’t called the “waterlog” for nothin’. I ran out of catalyst along the way, so funboard repairs are left til next round (the learning board). I’ll have to restock up next time I head to the states. Finding ding repair kits in Mexico is not easy, you can thank homeland security for that one. We guard our kits, here, like our first born.
More pics on the flickrtrim.
The past week has been dead, dead, dead. Undeterred, I’ve been slogging my 9-oh log jammy out to various spots. One foot, two foot, three foot. It doesn’t take much to have fun. I’ve been relishing in the small wave action. Maybe not the longest sessions on earth, but perfect for grabbing a few nice rides, heading back to familiar shores and snapping off a few captures in the late afternoon gold.
If it doesn’t pick up soon, a trip to La Michoacan may be in the near future.
It’s getting hot, folks. I mean like, hot hot. Summer is on the way and sitting out on the water for 2 hours, mid-day/afternoon just isn’t so smart. So I’m going to start conditioning myself for the dawn patrol. not necessarily to fight the crowds, rather to fight the heat (and the burn).
Photos from an afternoon excursion up to Punta Mita. waves were knee-high to a grasshopper, but this thirty-something buck managed to grab a nice long ride or two. I had a great conversation with Joe Doggett and his buddies, a rag tag crew of inveterate surf junkies who make an annual pilgrimage to Mita. They completely schooled me on Punta Mita surf history and for that I am grateful. You can look forward to a post on Punta Mita surf lore in the not to distant future. Thanks Joe!
Anclote, Punta Mita. also known as the “Mexican Malibu” for its long, mellow, soft shouldered wave. A longboarder paradise. The destination of choice for old guys who are following Mexico’s gold road of fabled surfing spots. It’s a welcome change of pace from the local grom stables of Burros and Sayulita. Lulls in the sets are filled with surf mythology laden stories of yore and each wave is an opportunity to share a ride with an old friend or new.
Roberto + Barbara - two kids that own a local Bucerias surf shop
Call me a noob, but I had no idea you could still custom order boards from Gerry Lopez. I was in the water yesterday, talking to Lobo and that’s exactly what he did. He’s riding a sweet 7′6″ Cheetah with a serene light blue-green tint. super tight.
We spent last weekend in Quintana Roo and came back to stories of people seeing sharks at La Lancha on Saturday. Whoa.
We’re jumping straight from winter in to summer. The water has warmed at least 3 degrees (c) in the past 2 weeks. No need for full wetsuit anymore and all of the accumulated seaweed is dying in vast groves and washing up on the beaches. gonna start smelling real nice in a week or so.
Rode the 9′0″ San Miguel, yesterday, and I can’t seem to get up to the nose. but did grab a head high peeler. very fast and about 2 feet back from the nose, both feet pointed forward. Still got the ropey hands over the head steez though. can’t keep the hands from going up.
I get tons of great ideas, floating out there looking at the horizon, the problem is that I forget all those good ideas, the minute I sit back in front of this computer. It’s a problem.
I hit a small deer last night on the way home. She jumped out ran along with the car for a split second and then collided with my fog light. she bounced off and tumbled. I went back to see if she was hurt but she had gotten away. I feel terrible. but I guess it comes with the (rural) territory.
I’m having major board-lust issues. Check out this 9′6″ Junod. awesome.
Last Sunday we got a wild hair to get out of the house. What better way to spend Sunday morning than a trip to the local Bucerias tianguis (flea market). It’s been a year or so since our last visit and the flea market has been growing odd tentacles in to each of the neighboring side streets. Dusty as ever and full of typical bucerian characters. The Tuba was off the hook.
Meet The King of Burros. We call him “El Lobo” (The Wolf). I’m not exactly sure why he’s called El Lobo, but it fits him perfectly. El Lobo has the monster longboard and when the waves are heavy you’ll always find him sitting 100 yards in front of the usual line-up. When you see him paddling up to the break, you know your average wave count is about to take a nose dive. Yet, he never gets too much grief from the local groms and even though he’s thwarting your attempt to grab waves, he’s not doing it with any malice. He’s all smiles all the time with never an over-the-shoulder glance. He’s just doing his own thing. Respect.
Update: In the comments, Mark points out that El Lobo is actually Wolfgang “Lobo” Fink, one half of international recording artists Willie and Lobo. Their music is described as “Gypsy Boogaloo violin and flamenco guitar” and their songs were used in the soundtrack to surfing documentary Blazing Longboards. You can find all ten Willie and Lobo albums on iTunes here.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the difference between surfing and “surf culture” recently. I don’t mind the showier/competitive side of surfing, it definitely has its place in surf culture. But for the most part, the surfing that I know (especially when done at times other than rush hour) is a solitary, meditative, relaxing experience. Lately I’ve been trying to capture that essence to show a different mode of surf culture especially with regard to the scene here in Nayarit. And somehow transferring that vibe/ethos/prana to other contexts, not necessarily surfing specific but definitely informed by thought processes learned by spending too much time floating on the water while looking towards the horizon. ya dig?
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2nd session of the day. more so to take pics, but got in a slide or two as well.
Large construction site at “used to be a virgin beach, now it’s a large condo project that feigns being into conservation and protecting the sea turtles”. you can notice the corduroy lined up in the background. yum yum.
A photo of the backside of Burros and the frontside of Pools, taken through a set of binoculars.
see original size for optimal viewing
I went sleep last night to the sound of some nice crashers, hoping I’d wake to the same sound. But no luck. I knew today would be a good longboard day so I slogged the 9′6″er out to “used to be Alejandro Fernandez’s house, now it’s gonna be a big giant condominium and they’re gonna cut off access to the beach” break. You see, you can’t just put up a barbed wire fence and expect the locals to not cut a large hole in it, especially if you have no permits or legally binding documents to show that you have the right to put up said fence. [ed- get to the point]
I made it out to the relatively light lineup just in time for the mid-day winds, but still managed to greet some beautiful water hills. I’ve been studiously studying T.Adler’s Ron Church Surf Contest book and today I practiced my foot work. Trying to let go of my unconscious need to inch up the board like a lead-foot hopscotcher. The modus operandi was to try a fluid foot over foot maneuver towards the nose and back. up and back. up and back. A few larger sets rolled through, somewhere in the shoulder to head size, giving up some really nice rides, fin firmly planted in the hill and feet together pointing forward a foot behind the nose, sitting position, hands in the air, bow of the wave breaking over the feet. heaven.
This beach goes by another name, I call it “La Virgen” because it’s one of the last virgin beaches in the area. There isn’t a single house/hotel/development on it and the beach is pristine. Sunday and Monday I dragged the longboard out to La Virgen to slide away on one footers. Ro accompanied me yesterday. Five out of the last six days, I’ve been in the water. swell or no swell. and I feel like I’m coming alive again. I need the water.
Yesterday I dragged the girls up to Sayulita to give them surfing lessons in the shallow break to the side of the beach towards Villa Amor. Each of the girls braved the cold water and got up on the board enough to claim bragging writes for when they get back home. Bella did particularly well and had good sense of balance.
Sayulita was bananas. Semana Santa in full effect. The most crowded I have ever seen it. Maybe 100 boards in the water. And not a single local in site. There wasn’t much swell to speak of but the ocean was broiling with wind generated white-cappers.
Today is the official start of Semana Santa, but the coast has been clogged with inland mexican vacationers since Friday. Semana Santa is Mexico’s Spring Break, Fourth of July and Labor Day all rolled into one. The entire country takes off, packs up and goes to the beach. Anything even remotely inflatable can be used as a floatation device and beaches look like hodge-pod terry cloth patchworks. The highway that runs through Bucerias is a virtual parking lot and every restaurant and corner store is jammed with gente. Going anywhere is a problem. But it’s also one of the best times of the year to be here. Our sleepy little beach town is alive and well.
Lilah is the resident myspace fiend of the family. The kid spends all day writing messages on the social networking teet. Hooked I tell ya. The above pose is her typical rebellious anti-camera pose and as soon as the camera comes out, the hands come up to the face and the hair becomes a flowing dirty blonde shield. Lilah is 13 going on 21, I’ve never met a smarter, more mature 13 year old in my life.
She got a heart a gold.
Bella is the aspiring actor/model of the family. Her personality has the perfect mix of Miranda July’s frank observation of human minutiae and Michel Gondry’s inventive curiosity. This child is eleven and studies Mandarin Chinese. The classes at her school were not so good, so she opted for her own tutor. Bella will probably grow up to be a world-class mathematician with a fierce dedication to fashion. She’s got brains, creativity and style.
This is Claire’s favorite animal pose, an elephant. It also happens to be her signature “don’t take my picture” face sans elephant ear hair braids. You might remember Claire from this photo from awhile back. Claire no longer goes by Claire. You must now call her Coolio. This child is strange. She knows who Coolio is but she doesn’t know what Star Wars is. What is the world coming to?
Her shirt says “go figure”.
Hi, my name is Ed Fladung, I'm a recovering web-designer who moved to Mexico about 4 years ago. Learned to surf, got married and bought a nice camera. This is my weblog/photoblog. It covers broad subjects like becoming an ex-pat, surfing, photography, graphic design, music, art, architecture, living in mexico, all things Apple and WordPress related, etc... You can find more about me here. I hope you enjoy.
