Making Widows with Adrian

By Daniel Crockett

Creating a custom surfboard is a specialised and personal practice. The board, from inception to completion, is also an individual. It reflects the methods adopted by the shaper, and the intricacies of his craft. This story charts the construction of a WidowMaker from blank to glassed and ridden article, but first, a bit of history. Dave Parmenter developed the WidowMaker from the Terry Fitzgerald "Drifta" shapes of the late 1970s and early 80s. Fitz was taking his cue from Mark Richards' twin-fin supremacy and the recently devised Simon Anderson three-fin. The boards were characterised by a larger back fin and two smaller side fins. Utilising the benefits of the thruster - which made for critical manoeuvres and ease of turn - and the single fin, with its irresistible invitation to draw open lines and trim with momentum - the WidowMaker seemed to combine the best of both worlds.

The premise underlying the name, for converts, is that the boards are so much fun that there's a distinct danger you'll leave your wife. Yet this type of board has not made the transition to mass acceptance, as experienced by the fish and the quad in recent years. In Glass Love, Neal Purchase Jnr. rides a Widowmaker with fluidity and power. Andrew Kidman, a fantastically refined tuberider, has several of them. His are beautiful boards, particularly the blue 9ft gun and the original seven-footer, scarred through a thousand barrels. Despite both the scars and the dangers heralded by the name, the example of Purchase Jnr. and Kidman was too much. Throwing caution to the wind, and with thoughts of barrels of my own, I signed up for a custom WidowMaker.

A preliminary discussion with Adrian Phillips, the shaper, was essential. I told him what I wanted in as much detail as possible. This input comes from the eye of the surfer and rider, not the craftsman. Taking your board or quiver along gives the shaper an idea of what you ride, and how you ride. The type of wave suited to this board was discussed. The shape would have to be able to handle size in Scotland and Ireland, and be stable enough to provide a confidence boost in waves of consequence. With the background out of the way, the nascent process of design began. We discussed the virtues and flaws of the outline, fin setup, bottom shape, rocker and rails. At that stage we had a rough length of between 7’0’’ and 7’2’’, a width between 20’’ and 20 ½” and a thickness between 2 ½” and 2 ¾”. From the roots of this initial discussion, we decided to reconvene one week later when time allowed.

Arriving to an untouched blank (Clark foam 7’11’R) is a blessing. Watching board and craftsman from the earliest possible stages is a rite that no surfer should miss. The shaping bay is an alien environment when it is not your livelihood. Here are the smells, the sounds, the pulsing (and toxic) heart of surfing creation. Using a combination of the formidable collection of templates lining one wall of the dusty bay, Adrian sketched an outline. A drawn-out rounded pintail came first. I wanted this board to trim, and trim in the style of a single fin gun yet also be surfed off the back foot, so we placed the wide point two up from centre, and pulled the nose in. Adrian pencilled a beautifully smooth curve through the centre of the board. We went with 7’1’’x 20 ¼’’x 2 ¾”.

Every shaper approaches the blank in a distinct way, and this is where the most fascinating stage begins. By watching master craftsmen (and women) at work in their environments an appreciation of the individual is conveyed. Two precedents prove the point: Dick Van Straalen, half a century down the line from his first blank, is a "vibration shaper." He shapes by the feel of his tools alone. From a different generation, Dain Thomas of Sea was meticulous, completely in tune with his equipment and process and yet totally different in style. It is an incredible thing to observe, and it reinforces one’s surfing just to see it.

Adrian has decades of experience and talented test pilots to provide him with feedback. He has eschewed batch production to shops, and is concentrating on custom orders. With a waiting list of almost two months, the demand is there. The initial reluctance of UK surfers to adopt different designs of surfboard for our (generally) weaker waves appears to have been swept away as fashion takes over.

Throughout the initial phases of this board - measuring the rocker and drawing and sawing the outline - we continually discussed and refined. Adrian has a bank of cumulative knowledge, and he was ready to delimit how specific features would affect performance. Outline finalised, Adrian sawed the tail off the blank, and put the board up against the wall. The planshape was clean, and the board instantly looked like it would work. We debated whether to pull the tail into a more gunny point, but the idea was quickly discarded. Not only did the shape look smooth, it also brought back memories of original Parmenters of a similar size.

At this stage Adrian took over. He seemed to be on auto-pilot, as skills that had become second nature took over. I was impressed by how little he used a power sander: almost all of his shaping was done with the plane and small adjustments by hand. These were evaluated by eye, roaming the expanse of foam looking for high and low points. We decided to give the board a large beaked nose. Once the rails and bottom had been cut into the board, the finishing process commenced.

The surform in Adrian’s hands breathed life into the blank. The runnels and grooves of the power sander and planer disappeared into a gorgeously swept smooth surface. The rails, once blended in, spoke of critical drops. The bottom, viewed as if to sight a gun and metered with a ruler to absorb the contour, told its own story. Under the arm the volume was apparent, as was the definition. I imagined it traipsing down a cliff path, the row of fins brushing the slopeward grass, thumping waves ahead. Adrian pencilled in his signature and the unusual dimensions with a brief message: 2+1=3? Our final act was to decide on fin placements.

Having a shaper bear you in mind throughout the creation of a board surely has a bearing on how the board arrives, and therefore how the board rides. The custom surfboard is one of the most wonderful things a surfer can enjoy. As an art form, it is uniquely precious. Whatever your quibble with the toxicity of the materials (and a valid one it is), keeping the custom market alive is a privilege. My WidowMaker, now missing half a nose to Ireland and a big chunk of rail to Thurso, sits in the rafters, waiting patiently for the winter lows to start spinning - and its dangerous kind of fun to begin.

Daniel's board was shaped by Adrian Phillips, seen trimming foam from a 10'6 eagle, of www.fluidjuice.co.uk. Daniel Crockett writes on surfing and more of his work can be found at www.thisrichtapestry.com.

Comments

[Nick Cropp]

surfing is a topic close to my heart, however the intricacies of board design are something i knew nothing about until now.an absolute pleasure to read....

[ballerina]

Having witnessed from the shoulder, andrew kidman's prowess when riding his parmenter within the tube, and trying one out myself, i have no doubt that this board is truly one of the most functional and exciting boards that exists.
The board itself, isn't pretty (minus beautiful resin bleed, or whatever your poison), and it would be laughed at by someone who can only appreciate a 6'2" thruster, but to feel it under your arm and realise the potential of drive and fluidity that the fin set up offers, gives a surfer hope for the future...