Head to the grindstone, little action on the blog means this bwoy is busy bees. Working on epic book version of this blog. keep yer eye out wee lad. 14 hour work days = almost two weeks without water, not much swell to speak of, so haven’t missed much. On evidence of slight uptick in swell, went last night to the favorite walled-up bowl break. At first glance, flat as can be. With patience – waist to chest high pulses rolling through. The potato chip handles nice tight S-carves and fatty whitewater floaters. For some odd reason I was super connected to the board, personal form in fine style. ‘Twas one a my best, mellowest sessions in months. I truly digs dema small waves, I can get open on knee highs and potato chips.
Jim Moriarty, CEO of Surfrider Foundation, has a new semi-annual videocast series called 5′10″1. The concept is to talk about 5 concepts in 10 minutes. Quick, simple and dialed in. The videocast format is a brilliant way for Jim to quickly update the masses on Surfrider’s focus and goals. Delivery of transparent information in a very quick and easy manner is the key here.
It’s great to see that Surfrider truly “gets” the power of the internets. I’m definitely inspired by Jim’s eloquence, focus and conceptual creativity2.
I never get tired of watching Kalle Carranza do his thing. Kalle is Mexico’s most famous surfer and famously laid-back and humble. Part of the Reef team, Kalle travels and surfs. I spotted him on Facebook, where he’s slowly dropping crumbs on his travels through Thailand, Cambodia, Loas, Vietnam and now he’s in China.
How many times have I pulled up to the rock bluff overlooking the miles of raw coastline that contain my most frequented surf breaks. I pull out the binoculars to scout for waves and for crowds (or lack thereof). Only to find small waves and large crowds. Crushed enthusiasm, I say ferck it and head back home. I’m definitely guilty of embracing the skunk.
Things are different when you travel 1000 miles on an airplane for a surf trip. You take stock of the local swell report and choose your spot for the day wisely, but once you’re there in those strange waters, you can’t turn back. There’s no going home. You must find the glide. Every spot at every size, has a glide, a sweet spot, waiting for you to find it. Sometimes it takes a longboard. Sometimes it’s the thigh-high walled up inner section with the slow crouching thirty-foot ride. Sometimes it’s a kooked-out drop into the closing tube going the wrong direction. Whatever the conditions may be, the glide is there, somewhere, maybe not in plain view, maybe hidden away, but it’s most certainly there. You just have to look for it.
The Oregon/Nayarit surf blog bro-down extravaganza ended today with a drive up the coast to “Rio Bonito”, a juicy, sand-bottomed river mouth break, right around the corner from freakin’ nowhere. As the roles reversed, it was this intrepid Oregon crew who showed me, the itinerant Mexico rustaboot, a new spot. I don’t know how the hell these guys found their way to this little jammy, but believe me I know how to get back here. We caught the joint on a pretty mellow day, mostly closeout waist high, with an occasional head-high thumper. I dropped in on a few, with seconds of glide, ledge overhead to punch out the back and a few pearls as the singlefin kicked out from the steep angled drop. Even at small, closeout sizes, the waves were walled up nicely from the water exiting the river.
Rio Bonito wasn’t exactly firing, an epic day it wasn’t, but we all tried to get a little something. You can tell, though, that this spot gets huge, breaking in long flowing lines from both sides of the river mouth. Luckily Rick, Gabe and Ean have two more days to soldier on and with hints of incoming swell, hopefully they’ll be running to the plane on Saturday with wet swim trunks.
Marcia and I are headed up to Guadalajara for the weekend. And as per usual, that means a nice big swell should be rolling through. Ah the irony.
Rick, the SissyfisherKing is currently down mexicoway with his homies Gabe and Ean. We connected up Monday night for some wicked Chilés Rellenos + chelas with the ladies and little ones (ours being still in seedling format). Dinner was civil and restrained. After grub, the boys retired to the livingroom for a full on bro-down nerd fest, as we talked blog-related schmata and plotted the next day’s surf activities while I heavy-petted and studiously-vetted the various surf vehicles the crew had slogged all the way down here from Oregon. Rick’s MCaro-shaped round-pin quad was pretty amazing in and out of the water. Drop in, set the rail and hum. dialed.
Tuesday morning we reconvened for a dawn patrol sliding session at my favoritest rocky left point break La Chuleta. Afuckingmazing, as usual. That place is blessed with serious surf/stoke/prana. We all got in some quality slide time. I took an hour or so out to snap some jammies from the boat. These are two of my favs, not intentionally out-of-focus, but what are commonly referred to as “happy accidents”.
This past Saturday I drove up to Mazatlan for a surf contest at a left point break called Patole, with boards and camera in hand. The drive is six hours. I arrived at 1pm to wind-blown waist high slop. The contestants tried their hardest to put on a good show and I tried my hardest to snap some interesting shots. In a funky ass mood, I hung around for 4 hours or so and turned right around and drove all the way back to Vallarta. By the time I got home, at 11pm, I was so cracked out from that Monster energy drink I had, on the way, I couldn’t get to sleep. what a day. I have a post brewing on the cost of living in Mexico, as it relates to my road trip to Mazatlan. You will not believe how much it cost me to get there and back.
With big swell on the way, some homies have headed down to Pascuales to catch the deep water, open seas swell. I broke the budget for the week, so I’m holding the Bahia de Banderas down for the local bras.
The Bahia de Banderas is the name for the giant bay this entire area sits on. From Cabo Corrientes on the southern tip, to Punta Mita on the northern. This is also the name for the municipality I live in that stretches from Nuevo Vallarta to Lo de Marco. The state of Nayarit and Fonatur (the governmental development agency) call this area “the Riveria Nayarit”. In theory, giving the area a classy attaché in hopes of luring tourists and foreign investment dollars. The locals call it “Badeba” a contraction of its full name. I like Badeba, cuz it sounds kinda naco and probably pisses a lot of developers off.
I got skunked not once but twice yesterday. An am trip to Veneros, some nice chest high waves, but 30 people in a break that maxes out at 15. No waves at all at Albercas. And after a long trek in through the muddy river bed to Burros and nothing there as well. In the pm, back to Veneros to find blown-out waist high closeouts. I need some water.
Regular updates resuming shortly, just as soon as I can get my face out of this ginormous MS Word doc I’ve been editing for god knows how long. If I’m not in the water, I’m in this dumb word doc.
Kate Czuczman has a brilliant article in the July issue of Surf Girl Magazine. The article is about taking surf photography back to its artist roots via film:
The Film Revolution — what is it?
Kate Czuczman takes a look at at the photographic revolution that’s going on and highlights four photographers whose work personifies this. These photographers are striving for something more than the stereotypical surf shot and recall the days of photographer as artist.
Click on over to Kate’s flickrstream to see the rest of the tear sheets. Beautifully designed article! While you’re there, don’t forget to leave your eyeball tracks all over her beautiful celluloid-based photography. That reminds me, I need to break out the Mamiya 645 and get crunk on some 120 film, as Kate says: “medium format is the way forward”. True, True.
Wednesday night. I wake to huge crashers, rumbling me from my sleep. Incoming swell. Nice. I wake Thursday morning to no sounds of crashing waves, silence, odd. Prepare my morning coffee and right to work. 11am, my sister Beth calls me up and says that there are three meter waves and Tzahui Poo wants to meet up at “Holi” to take some photos. Holiday Inn (or Holi, for short) breaks far inside the bay towards Vallarta and this spot is usually reserved for when the size of a swell is so large that the outer bay spots all crap out from heavy currents and un-groomed waves.
I grab the camera and the board and I’m ghost. 20 minutes later, almost there, I get a call from Beth saying that Holi is starting to crap out from the wind, Tzahui is heading for “Velas” (or as I’m calling it “Portofino”, as there’s actually two different breaks at this spot). Portofino is the breaker of boards, a wicked dumping, open barrel, shore break. The higher the tide, the closer to shore, the deadlier the barrel. 80% of all rides end in closed out revolcadas, washing machine-like whirling dervishes of pressure, water, foam and sand. and you’re the clothing. Double overhead? No way. As my primary directive is to surf, I head back up to the north bay where I hear Birri and Ro are at Veneros. I make a u-turn.
30 Minutes later, from the cliff above Destiladeras, standing on the roof of my truck with binoculars (8×65), I can see the entire north bay looks like the north shore of Hawaii. Overhead and double overhead everywhere. Spots breaking two and three times farther out than usual. Waves breaking in mile long chains. Beth has called to tell me that Birri had to leave Veneros because the waves were too big. Too big?! I hear that a gem of a hidden break is going off, I’ll call it “La Puntilla”, a beautiful right, long ride and up until now I’ve never seen it breaking. It has near-legendary status. Birri’s there now and it’s overhead. I make another u-turn.
I pull up to the parking area for La Puntilla, just as Phil is driving out. We smile and each roll down our windows. I ask him how the swell is: “Man, I’ve been here since 7am. We had the break to ourselves for hours. Double overhead. My arms are spaghetti. 15 güeys just got here and the swell is starting to fall and the wind is coming up. Better get yours quick.”, paraphrased. We exchange shakas. I park and walk my gear to the beach to see a right break, head high and the left break on the far side about the same. I grab the camera and snap off a few captures. Birri is killing it, but the lineup is crowded. I’ve come to surf, so I grab the gear hit the car and do another u-turn.
With board in hand (camera back at the car) I walk out on to Destiladeras beach to see overhead waves lined up like jossling hordes of antsy teenagers. Veneros is unsurfable. Dinosaurs is overhead+ with maybe eight people out, half just sitting on the shoulder rolling up and over the freight trains coming though the lineup. My lower back is a ball of nerves. I recite an internal ohm relaxification ritual as I gear up and try to make it out past the thrashing shore break. The whipping current wants to put me right into the gapping maw of overhead shore dump. I paddle out to the lineup not facing out to sea, rather facing north, parallel to the beach, it takes me 20 minutes.
The lineup is farther out than I have ever seen it. I sit with the other gawkers on the shoulder, trying to come to peace with the virulent dodgy walled up sets coming through. They’re fast, vertical and open. You can fit a vw inside most. The lip is heavy. My lower back still courses with stress, I can’t seem to be able to relax, never a good sign for potentially being caught on the inside of large sets. In order to handle the white water you have to be relaxed and in control. Stress and anxiety drop your ability to hold your breath by several orders of magnitude. I focus on my breathing and try to enjoy the experience. Jason drops in on the first peak. Not fast enough to make it down the line, I drop in on the second peak. The potato chip 6′0″ shortboard keeps me too far down in the water and I drop in late. I fall out of the wave, drop four feet or so and catch the wall and I’m off, done the line. The steepest and fastest wave I’ve ever ridden, by far. I ride it surly wave to within a hundred yards of the beach. I turn around and look at the lineup. My back aches with stress. I make another u-turn, maybe another day…
I’m off to homebase, Burros, the headquarters. Overhead unruly sets are best served at a place I know intimately well. I arrive to the beach, to see nothing. nothing?! Blown out knee-high slop. No one in the water. what gives? Once again I do a u-turn.
La Puntilla it is, I should never have doubted you. As I walk out on to the beach, the lineup is almost gone. Two guys in the water and the sets at about shoulder level. Lots of onshore wind muddy up the already un-groomed lines. This is my first time surfing La Puntilla and with a vacant lineup, I enjoy every second of it. A classic rocky point break, when you’re firing, you probably give Malibu a run for its money. Lots of nice long flowing lines and soft carves (I leave the snaps to the local yokels). The spot has three sections and if you can make all three, maybe you can avoid the rocky edge. I worked on the tail stall and sitting on the foam ball, then down the line, sweet little weaving and in to the next section. I’m so glad you could make it, La Puntilla, a new friend. Later Thursday, we all get together to talk story. We all have stories to tell about the day.
Friday 8am, up to Veneros and Dinosaurs. less than a meter and no dice. I know there must be swell some place else, so I head back to town. I put in a call to Tzahui, he’s at Portofino with Chicharro and posse. It’s overhead. I grab the camera on the way down. A half-hour later I’m walking down the beach. It’s definitely overhead and heavy. When I get to the first rock jetty I can see hollow tubes and several shortboarders taking advantage of them. I drop the gear and grab the camera. The break is 50 yards from dry beach. Maybe less. The waves are ridiculously heavy and everyone does their best to show off for the camera. Only natural. I shoot for hours, luckily I brought the mono-pod. Lifesaver. I shoot 90º to the wave then 45º from both sides. good stuff. But then I get the bright idea to shoot from the rock jetty that juts out to the breaking section. The 100-400mm lens comes in handy here and although the scene is wide, the angle really helps capture the grandiosity of the swell. I kick myself that I chose to pursue surfing, the day before, instead of coming to this very same spot, which Tzahui says was easily twice as large.
The problem with being a surfer who also takes photos, is that the photography jones, more often than not, loses out to the surfing jones. It’s just a fact.
By the time I was done shooting, Friday, I was burnt to a crisp and in dire need of sustenance (monge). I snapped a few photos of Tzahui and Chicharro as they finally dragged themselves out of the water, packed up my gear and hit the road. Two full days of insane swell chasing. The first day tied to a board, the second tied to a camera. As it should be.
Hot on the tail of this past week’s Tropical Storm Douglas (pics/story coming soonish), which saw double overhead swell hit on Thursday, we have another storm coming up the coast. Scheduled to hit sometime this coming Thursday, Tropical Depression FIVE-E must be NOAA’s inside joke / hat tip to the awesomeness that is WALL-E (if you haven’t seen it already, drop your Skil saw 100 and rush to the nearest movie theater). It’s still a bit early in the week to know exactly what kind of swell we’re going to get. Wet Sand is calling it at 24 feet (which will most certainly come down as the week progresses), Wave Watch calls it at 16 secs. and Surfline doesn’t even show anything, which is funky cuz they didn’t show Douglas either (um, em, *tink *tink, is this thing on?).
Lately, I’ve been dreaming about the surfing on display in this sequence, so smooth, I find myself stalking M.Caro’s Stubbie page on his Mandala site. The video gets played over and over in an infinite loop. In my mind’s eye I surf like this hombre, or at least I attempt to. Watch the video, then watch it again, paying extra attention to this guy’s footwork, it’s hypnotizing. Is that the flex fin giving him all that subtle carving movement (in the second shot) as he moves far on to the shoulder and then cuts back?
Word of impending swell had us out at The Usual, on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Four sessions in three days. No real swell to be had, but some occasional head high waves with way too much time in between proper sets. Saturday morning’s session was remarkable for it’s small but powerful waves with rides lasting almost right to the beach. I had several memorably floaters and a nice carve or three, the singlefin was in fine form. Sometimes it’s as if the board calls to me to ride it in different ways (as opposed to the regular thruster stance). Feet moving all over the board, feet together - sideways or face forward, crouched stance, hand on the rail. This board has stories to tell.
I awoke on Sunday to little bombs hitting the beach and I knew our phantom swell had arrived, most likely stopping in to Michoacan for a coffee break and chilaquiles and then heading on up the coast, two days late. I headed to La Virgen to find 5 foot backs and off-shore winds. La Virgen’s mushy rollers sometimes lead to nowhere waves - they crash overhead and seconds later you find yourself riding a shoulder with no foam ball. Others lead to wide-open faces of rolling water. I had a bit of both. It was nice to get the singlefin in to overhead conditions, total champ. The left was firing.
John from Vintage Cotton has been in town since the middle of last week, and he’s been joining me on our daily forays. It was nice to have some decent swell come in, so that he could have a taste of how good this area can be. But truth-be-told, he was happy with the solid 2-3 footers at The Usual and their long trimmed out lines. John brought down a gang of shirts for us locals and me and the homies are very thankful for the hook up. You wouldn’t believe how far good schwag hookups go down here. Thanks John.
John was out on Sunday with me for the nice swell and I had to cut my session a little short as my stomach started acting up. I thought it might be from a bad mix of chelas and sangrias the night before, but by the time I got to the house, I had full blown chorrillo. and I was knocked out for the rest of Sunday in a hazed stupor, as whatever bug I had ran through my system every 15 minutes, all day long.
Today, there’s still some leftover swell and Pato just called to drag me out to La Alberca. But I’m still weak from yesterday’s war and I still feel like an alien just hatched out of my abdomen, so I’m taken ‘er easy.
Emil Kozak nices it up again. This time we find this Barcelonian design aesthete killing it on a collaboration with Kelly Slater and Al Merrick, for Slater’s board graphics. These sheets are made by HP and sandwiched in between the foam and glass. You can actually order Emil’s designs here, as well as board graphics by Thomas Campbell. At $60/side, it’s not exactly economical for us mexican contingenters, but if someone were to float one down my way, for like um uh testing purposes, it would knock my stoke level up a few gigometers. hint hint.
Joni Sternbach’s Surfers series is absolutely mind-blowing, done with wet plate technique. The images in the series are almost timeless, pulled by the current styles of boards, stickers, hair and clothing styles and contrasted by the old-school technique of wet plate collodian process and the dream-like qualities of the landscapes and background.
My photographs over recent years engage traditions of landscape, seascape, and architecture. Working with a large-format camera and historic process (wet-plate collodian), I have concentrated on locations that are close to or directly on the water. At this juncture between land and sea, I explore subject matter in a constant state of transition.
For the past couple years I have photographed surfers in Montauk and in California. Their activity takes place on the water; the people are persistent elements in a shifting scene. The singular, primitive act of surfing on the water is tempered by the social and negotiated state of human interaction on the shore. The surfers act as a bridge between the sea as an unbridled force of nature and the shoreline, a place governed by social expectations.
My approach is simple: introductions are made, and each person willing to collaborate steps into the water and poses. The sea acts as both a backdrop and a watery stage. As the tide recedes the rocky surface underneath is revealed, looking more like the moon than a beach. Photographing people at surfing locations is a natural extension of my interests, exploring yet another dimension of landscape and its evolving state.
Working with a “wet” instantaneous process that must be prepared and developed on location serves me well. It draws spectators and entices new subjects. Using collodion compels me to compose carefully before sensitizing the plate, yet its very nature is spontaneous and unknowable. The raw quality of the process suits the subject matter, and the distinctive appearance of the finished works echoes nineteenth-century traditions of anthropological photography.
Let the Surfers project be an introduction, for you, to Sterbach’s work, but check out her other projects as well. They’re all really amazing. The first photo in her Sea/Sky series would look lovely, framed up on my wall.
I ran in to Sternbach’s work, while digging through vi.sualize.us (it’s kinda like ffffound, but with better search features)
A friend of mine has started a local civil association, here in Nayarit, called “Caminos Al Mar”. Literally translated it means “Roads to the Sea” and he took this name for the group, as all of the access roads and paths to the places we surf are all being closed off, one by one. The groups stated goals are to work directly with governments, municipalities, developers and other civil associations to maintain and ensure proper access to beaches for everyone; beach and surf break protection; clean water initiatives and education on conservation/environmental issues.
To make a long story short Nayarit and Jalisco are both going through massive development. All development is supposed to be under the control and direction of the urban planning wings of local municipalities. Unlike places like the United States, Mexico’s constitution explicitly states that beaches are the property of the people and that access to beaches can not be denied. This is exactly what’s happening to large stretches of coast that up until now, have been largely undeveloped.
front
This friend asked me to create a tshirt design promoting the group and this is the result. I had to distill the groups message into something as (relatively) simple as possible. The “Save The Waves” / “Salvar Las Olas” message seemed to work and he gave me the tagline “Seamos realistas, lo pidamos lo imposible” (We are realists, we ask the impossible).
back
The association’s logomark is respectfully borrowed from the Huichol symbol for the Ojo de Dios (God’s eye), Birri came up with that inspired thought. and the tagline means “supporting the rights of surfers in México”.
Every cliche ever uttered about Mexico is simultaneously true and false at the some time. I can’t explain it. It’s just how it is.
Still in GDL, Tzahui called last night asking if I wanted to take pics today, from the boat. Waves are at 3 meters. I shat me ponties with regret. What am I doing in this concrete jungle?
Late to the party as usually, I just read Sissy Fish’s End-of-Nau post. wow. amazing read. what a bummer. peep the comments. one part bad business plan, one part bad economy = disaster. Chum has my condolences.
Now up to date on BSG. great freakin season despite its early, questionable episodes. Ep10 was insane!
Half-way through Gerry Lopez’s Surf Is Where You Find It. great read. love talkin story. Admittedly, I’ve actually never read any of Lopez’s articles before. He’s a great story teller with a very direct and undecorated writing style. His pre-70s Hawaii and early Uluwatu/G-Land stories are my current favorites. The Buzzy Trent and Miki Dora stories are stone cold classics. required reading.
File under “Did you know that”: Swell sells a pretty good priced reprint of the exhibition poster for the Pre-War Surfing Photographs of Don James at Danzinger Gallery? I have my mouse on the “buy” button as we speak.
I respect my elders. There’s always two or three ‘Old Guy’ longboarders out in the lineup. If you’re over 60 and still in the water on a regular basis and you have the conditioning to be able to catch Burros’ slow, mushy waist high donkey waves, then you gotta be doing something right. Most of these guys have probably been surfing longer than I’ve been alive. And they’re often salty/sweet and filled with smart quips and good stories. Old Guys help contrast the local groms and their lack of basic surf etiquette and rules.
A few days ago, I was out surfing the chest-high peelers coming in at the beginning of a recent swell. There were a few Old Guys (OGs) in the lineup, every one getting their fair share of righteous slippage.
I’d just gotten a nice ride and was paddling back out to the lineup. Old Guy#1 drops in on a broad-faced peeler. Old Guy#2 drops in on OG#1 (obviously not on a trip together). OG#2 has several looks at OG#1 and with about 15 feet between them, OG#2 decides to stay on the wave. Both working their way down the line. Without special legwork or grace, OG#2 isn’t exactly an “arbiter of style”. Just some schmoe who won’t get off someone else’s wave. OG#1 is making the ‘mush’ face.
As they come toward me, I’m assuming OG#2 will get off at some point and I will safely move over the shoulder before OG#1 rides the crest by. OG#2 in a jenky manner decides to keep riding the shoulder, over me, instead of ducking off or riding the face down and around me. Just before he makes it over, a second peak forms and pushes his board down the face a bit and he misses me by a few feet. In a parallel dimension, his board hits me directly in the head and splits my forehead open and I received 24 stitches*. OG#1 is still making faces and wondering what this guy is doing on his wave.
On his paddle back out, I lean over my shoulder and say to OG#2 that he should be more careful and that he almost creamed me in the face. OG#2 stutters a bit, with internal indecision on how to handle the situation, a second later he gets all red in the face and says to me “You have got to be fucking kidding me?!”. I toss an unbelieving grin his way and casually say “Fine, be that way” and continue on with my paddle back to the lineup.
Now this is the rub: This guy had two choices. He could take the tack he took, or he could be civil, acknowledge his wave theft and near fuck-up. His option is the nuclear option and never begets friends. The second option would most surely reward him with a smile and respect. OG#2 chose the wrong option. And by choosing the wrong option, he fucked up in three ways, in a matter of seconds:
1. He dropped in on someone else’s wave
2. He almost creamed me in the face
3. He didn’t have the balls to acknowledge his bad judgement.
Incidents like this happen all the time. The differences is how you choose to deal with them. We all make mistakes and I’m sure this guy, deep down, wanted a way to say sorry in some little way, after all that ‘confrontation adrenaline’ wore off, but his first reaction kinda fucked up the vibe in the water. I’ve done this before, I’m sure everyone has.
If there’s a message here, it’s that regardless of age, we can all learn a thing or two. Rules aren’t arbitrary and try not to be an asshole, unless someone egregiously drops in your wave, than you can be a jerk.
– * this actually happened to my good friend Julietta, a few months ago, surfing the very same spot, in very similar conditions.
Dear and Yonder, An Ocean Odyssey of the Female Kind. A new surf film coming out in ‘09. No trailer quite yet, but an impressive list of surfers are captured in celluloid, including Kassia Meador, Prue Jeffries and Sofia Mulanovich. And it’s directed by Tiffany Campbell (wife of one TMoe Campbell).
Could it have been Tiffany shooting Kassia that day, out at Burros, a few years back?
8:30am to the lineup, rumors of clean, head-highs yesterday morning. not quite as big, today, but clean, long and mellow. getting to the beach is a bitch but once in the water, all is right with the world. the red egg contrasts to the grey, june gloom. it’s the rainy season. unexpectedly cold and rainy for 3 days straight. nice big rollers though make it all worth while. young grom cuts in on my dance. that’s ok, just don’t do it again. if i had one complaint about the junod, it’s that it’s not big enough but so smooth. I’m beginning to get a feel for the rails on nice swooping carves. and watching that back leg to feet together. work the deck. tomorrow am? same.
Every morning I steep up a fresh cup of Peet’s coffee (cuz that’s how i do en mejico) and fire up my rss reader. RUDDERS is one of those blogs that I relish over my morning cupajoe. This guy takes his camera out into the lineup every day. inspirational for the dedication to his own surf practice and doubly inspirational for documenting it and uploading to the internets, so sliders like myself can enjoy. If you’re not already hip to RUDDERS, you can thank me after you’re hooked.
If ever there were an image that needed re-blogging, this is it. The Great Wave of Kanagawa, re-imagined by Surfrider Europe and found on Oceans, Waves and Beaches, the blog of Jim Moriarty, Surfrider CEO. Sometimes it’s the subtlest tweaks that make the biggest difference.
The swell is up! Yesterday, nice choppy mid-day session, the first on the new Junod singlefin. Today two sessions on a rising swell. 7am, one other surfer out in the water. taking turns dropping in on 5 foot crumblers. glassy, hazy and slight drizzle. puuuurfecto. The singlefin is clean and smooth.
3pm. different spot. Higher tide, 6-7 foot bomb double-peeks to mini-tubes. Again, super clean. Killer drop-in on first peek, back up a too little high, miss the second peek and fall down the face, on my face, full garage sale, white foam bath, to wooo-hooo! The singlefin is super smooth. note to self: wider stance, keep it low for the second peek scrunch mini-tube and gotta watch that rocker (or lack thereof) on the walled up sections, set the rail and huuumm!.
Sunday means crowded. understatement. Yet good swell means all smiles and shakabras.
We’re finally back in Nayarit, after a nice, semi-relaxing trip to the city of Lost Angels. We ate ridiculously too much good food and now it’s time for double surf/elliptical exercise sessions to wear down the newly enlarged spare tire. I took a ton of pics and one of these days I’ll get around to processing them. We met a ton of really cool people along the way which was surprising and unexpectedly awesome.
While in LA, I picked up a wicked dark cherry Michel Junod Pumpkin Seed 6′2″ Singlefin with glossy finish. Big thanks to Chad at Mollusk Venice / Gonz! for the killer advice, true to my earlier post it came down to the Junod and a 6′2″ Andreini Vaquero (both amazing pieces of surfcraft/art). I took a few pics of the new board, for posterity’s sake, before I futz it up with wax, sand, saltwater, southwesterlies, knee pressure dents and concrete-wall dings. Peep the pics.
Today, I woke up early (for no particular reason) and got to Burros at 7am in time for the sunrise. The tide was the lowest I’ve ever seen it, with most of the rock reef sticking out of the water for a hundred feet. The beach covered with brown, dead seaweed and foot deep pools of beige/brown foam. Whatever swell was coming through was being blown out by moderate winds and highly unusual currents. Lots of movement, nothing worth riding. I surveyed the beautiful (but ultimately futile) scene for a half hour or so. Some intrepid groms showed up and I watched them wallow around for 15 minutes, waveless, and then headed home.
It’s good to be back in orbit, but truth be told, I’m weary of NetNewsWire. I have it open, but trying to resist the urge to read all those unread feeds. Yes, checking surfing/mac/myfeeds/politics folders but staying away from everything else. Hopefully the wind will die down and I’ll be able to get in a good sunset slide on the new singlefin.
Stevey, the boys and cold cervezas. What was once dense semi-arid jungle is now the glorious mass of condominiums of poonta mita in the background.
I’m ink free, but I’ve been seriously considering a mexi ’stache tattoo as demo’d by the Tiger Distro Crew (examples: 1 + 2). Thanks for the linkage boys, keep the spirit alive.
We’re headed to LA on Wednesday. On the agenda is picking up a new tabla. I’m currently waffling on bunch of different shapes and sizes. but definitely looking for something to fill out the space in the quiver between the 6′0″ ATL shorty and 9′0″ San Miguel noserider. Something that works nice in 2-3 foot mush but can also perform at 6′ and higher. Anyone got any suggestions, please don’t hesitate to drop a comment or email. I’m digitally oogling the Junod pumpkin seeds and single fins, Mandala’s wingless quad and 2+1 stubbie, that Klaus Jones Hull and Andreini’s Vaquero. I’m 6′2″ at 180lbs and I usually like ‘em shorter. I’m also all about used boards so if anyone has any really nice ones in stock, I’m all ears, i’m casing Craigslist for anything good. I spy a 9′1″ Junod noserider, good price.
I’ve been doubling down, in the qp lab, trying to push through the photo editing process. working on mystery project. anyone have any experience with professional photo book printing? like say china or italy? (not one-off services like blurb, etc…)
Surfline/stormsurf/wavewatch/wetsand et all, say that there is no surf. but i’ve been hearing whispers of head-high groundswell in both San Pancho and Quimixto. why am i still glued to this chair, however nice and bent plywoody it may be?
Ok, back to the lab….
Oh and anyone have any good info on Los Angeles area art galleries, shows, museums etc… happening over the next week or so? hit me up!
Maggie’s photography is definitely inspirational to me. I hope we see a lot more work from this talented lens(wo)men in the near future. Surf mag photo editors: I’m nodding in your direction. I’m calling it now: Maggie Marsek pwns baja.
Montreal soul brother Stevey B. and his crew of surf derelicts blessed us Nayaritenses* with their presence for two weeks in May. Staying up in a fatty old hacienda in the colinas above Sayulita, I caught up with the mosse for several sliding sessions. A big swell blew through town right before they arrived and I think they caught a session or two, but unfortunately for the rest of their stay, it just got redinkulously small. No worries, the boys rented longboards for the remainder of their trip and we had a nice Sayulita one-footer sesh on their last day. The style council was definitely in full effect.
The above pics are from a series of shots taken over two days at the same spot. the mythical spot. 30 shots in all, meander on over to my flickr stream to peep the goodness.
Los(t) Angeles peoples: we’re currently planning a triumphant return to the city of broken dreams, most likely in the first weeks of June. If there’s gonna be any swell, maybe some of you might wanna hook up for some wave sliding action. Despite having lived in the belly of the beast for 10 odd years (Valencia - 4 years / W.Hollywood - 3 years / Highland + Franklin - 3 years) I have never been surfing in Los(t) Angeles, ‘cept that one time uber-homie Supa Dave took me down to Manhattan Beach for some one foot closeouts.
I come equipped with a shorty but thinking on hooking myself up with a Junod or Mandala, or similar alternative stylee wave riding vehicle, while i’m there (Mollusk ahoy). Anyone wanna show a brother their favorite spots or maybe just hook up for some cerveza and chips?
If you’ve been to Sayulita, chances are you know what delicious goodness lies in wait, in the big haphazardly-built, blazing yellow building, fortified with wrought-iron signs, just off the square. Chairs, tables and old surf mags crammed into every single nook possible. In a town whose restaurants and businesses ebb and flow with the tides of the high and low tourist seasons, Sayulita Fish Taco is an integral part of Sayulita’s gilded prana. That is to say, Sayulita would not be the same without it.
Albert is the proprietor behind the famous yellow building and the delicious, distinctly traditional mexican fare. Always a smile and a good word, I’ve encountered him enumerable times out in the line-up, at ‘Rubber Dingies’ and ‘Enchiladas’, trimming his brains out with the ‘alma’ of an overgrown kid.
With a nice, twisted, sun-burnt sense of humor, Albert is the kinda guy with the ingenuity to rig up a user-controllable webcam so you can check out the front of his restaurant, never mind the ‘Mexican Waikiki’ otherwise known as Sayulita beach, just three blocks away, who’d want a webcam to check that out? He winks and says (and I’m paraphrasing, here) “Aw Yeah, it’s great. You can control the webcam and sometimes I move it to the other side of the pole, so you can see the big fiestas they throw in the town square”. The irony isn’t lost on Albert, that’s just the kinda guy he is.
Long after the snowbirds have all flown home, during the heart of the humidity riddled rainy season, you can still see Albert slogging in today’s catch as he sets his shop up for another day of fish tacos and cerveza. Albert has gone native.
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.
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