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I posted recently on Hurricane Dean and surfing in Aruba. Turns out the video that ADR alerted me to was shot by Bamboo, who's a friend of Jeffrey Dijkhoff, who lent me a board when I was in Aruba playing poker. Here are some more shots to prove that this piece of Caribbean paradise gets swell. As Jeffrey says, it was "superb... just perfect on the quiet side of Aruba. Clean clean."
Congrats to Jeffrey and Shaendeeh on the birth of their first child, Zuhdsey - and in response to their question (when am I heading back to Aruba?), the answer is: I'm working on it. But to surf, not to play poker...
OK, Porthcurno is a long way from anywhere, but it's all relative. During my year in Australia I thought nothing of driving 200 miles for a night out. OK, it'd take me a week to get back, but distance is as much a matter of attitude as geography. And if you want to encounter a surfer with attitude, come along to the Doom Bar big wave night in Porthcurno this Saturday, for in attendance will be Dan 'Mole' Joel. Mole's exploits at Aileens also feature in a great giveaway DVD in the latest issue of Carve.
I'm just back from a great trip to Hossegor. Felt stoked after a good interview with Tom Curren and a couple of days of... bodyboarding. Yes, I rode a lid, by far the safest option given the crowds (one swimmer, surfer or body-boarder per metre). I have to say that blasting down the line and getting covered up - albeit lying down - is definitely something I'll be doing again back here in the UK, hopefully with Rob Barber (Rob, as we've been discussing...) when my local wedge kicks off again in the autumn.
Anyway, talking of being back here in the UK. A friend texted me with an irresistible message: "M8 do u read yr reviews on Amazon?" Before I could protest "No, of course I don't, like every seasoned writer I never bother with such things, I feel secure and confident in the knowledge that at least three people - my editor, agent and wife - like my writing and that's more than enough for me, thank you very much" I'd checked out a Mr D Yarrow's thoughts on Surf Nation, these in the form of an Amazon customer review.
Woe is me. Mr Yarrow, from Tynemouth, feels that the book is "pointless - it's just some guy wondering [sic] the UK, interviewing people who make a living from surfing." He says that "the writer [me!] doesn't even seem to be a particularly experienced surfer" and is not someone who has "committed his life to the pursuit of wave riding." He prefers someone "who know's [sic] their onions," and offers my mate Tom Anderson, author of Riding the Magic Carpet, as such a man.
Why am I telling you this? Is it so that someone (my editor, agent or wife - please, one of you!) will rush to Amazon to post a counter review to that of Mr Yarrow? Perish the thought! It'd only lead to a counter-counter review, and then a counter-counter-counter review (That's enough counter-counter et seq reviews. Ed.), and then a counter-counter-counter-counter review (Please stop. Ed.) No, I'm mentioning this in an educative spirit, to illustrate the truth that dare not speak its name. It's an awful, dark and horrible thing but nothing can be done about it. It is this: all writers read their reviews. We pretend we don't but it's a lie. We can't help ourselves. It's part of the same pathology that leads us to write in the first place. So if you ever meet a writer and you hear him or her saying "I never read my reviews", you know they're talking BS.
However, I'm also mentioning Mr Yarrow's musings by way of asking: who is entitled to write about surfing? Is my experience of surfing invalid because, despite 20 odd years of on-off paddling out at numerous breaks in various countries, getting nailed is still the most consistent trick in my extremely limited repertoire? (And imagine - with age, I'm getting worse.) But also: how exactly do we define a person who has committed his or her life to wave riding?
These issues came up recently on this blog in the debate over Andy Martin's comments on the UK scene. I agreed with many of those commenting: it struck me as incongruous that Andy was condemning the UK scene as a UK surf guru who doesn't surf in the UK. But I also agreed with a couple of comments to the effect that if the only people entitled to provide commentary on football matches were ex-professional footballers, we'd have a bunch of commentators whose articulacy might make the average punter as sick as a parrot.
Likewise, surfing. Andy writes, I write; Mr Yarrow writes, we all write. So do a lot of other people. Who knows their onions the best and chops them finest? Without crying? To be fair, I wasn't over the moon to learn of Mr Yarrow's thoughts but nor was I gutted. Each to their own, it's a game of two halves, it only takes a second to score a goal but a lot longer to wave three yellow cards, to be fair it's a shame one team had to lose and at the end the day he'll be disappointed with that but the lads done brilliant (What are all these football cliches doing here? Ed.), sorry, what I meant to say was this (again): all credit to the lad Yarrow, but when it comes to surfing, surely it doesn't matter how good, bad or indifferent you are. It's about being stoked. Isn't it?
Or, to be fair, did I play too much football when I should have been riding waves?
See Errant Surf for packages to the surf heaven of Hossegor. Second picture courtesy of www.worldprosurfers.com. Football cliches acquired, to be fair, over a lifetime.
Some interesting threads on the Surfing Waves forum on the old chestnut: given the choice between your favourite break working perfectly or having sex, which would you choose? (Though curiously, this is a question that I have never actually heard anyone articulate. It seems only to exist in print or online. No doubt there is a reason for this.)
Today I find myself in Biarritz thanks to Rip Curl to interview Tom Curren for Huck. I was watching the Trials to Title DVD last night with my sons, ages 12 and 9, by way of a refresher on this extraordinary man. I'm ashamed to say that Harry, 12, suggested that TC wasn't that good, really, because he didn't do any aerials. Harry suggested that Kelly Slater was much better. This may well be true, but I shook my head in despair. The kids of today - well, mine anyway - have a lot to learn.
In commending a visit to The Secret Spot St Ives this weekend I lay myself open to a charge of shameless self-promotion (again - Ed) but actually this is't true (really? Ed). I'd urge a visit to check out the superb photographs that appear in Surf Nation before the show closes (to be replaced, I think, by work by Lucia Griggi). The Surf Nation exhibition runs for another week or so and the pictures from the book, blown up to gallery size, are excellent. Better still, St Ives is a wonderful place to wile away a few hours so if you're in the area, get yourself along.
Photo courtesy of Geoff Swallow, director of The Secret Spot. Yes, that's me in the blue T-shirt, and yes, I was very hot.
A while ago I wrote of how I'd been saved from poker hell in Aruba by local surfer Jeffrey Dijkhoff and his wife Shaendeeh, who took me for a surf at what was an admittedly totally blown out break. I was in Aruba to cover a poker tournament but casino life had taken its toll. To my great joy, Jeffrey and Shaendeeh showed me Aruba's surf spots and I've been wondering about a return trip ever since.
Thanks again to Alex Dick-Read of The Surfer's Path I learn of some awesome swell down Aruba way courtesy of Hurricane Dean. Check out this amazing barrelling left-hander. As Alex puts it, Arubissima!
Sometimes life down here in the wild west can be pretty quiet. I live in a village called Porthcurno, and while anyone who visits the place swiftly declares it to possess possibly the most beautiful beach in Britain, if not the world, there's no denying that it is, well, quiet. Not now, in the summer, when the place is packed (especially with German and Japanese tourists - see later for the reason), but between early November and mid-March there is just about no one here and my elder son, in particular, assails me with moans about this ("why can't we move to Sennen Cove, Dad?" is a question on his lips about thrice daily). Today, though, not only did I bump into sound Geordie lad and photographic contributor to Surf Nation Stu Norton (who had been taking advantage of Porthcurno's pristine waters for a photo-shoot with Roxy rider Candice O'Donnell) but I also learnt of a top event coming Porthcurno's way on Saturday 1st September. Turns out that my sleepy village is not only capable of attracting roving Geordie surf snappers but will also be hosting a Doom Bar Big Wave Film Night, one put together by the Porthcurno Telegraph Museum with help from Doom Bar and Surfers Against Sewage.
Claire Hearn, events co-ordinator at the Museum, summed up the rationale for the open-air screening of chilled-out surf flick Sprout: “Sprout is a beautiful film with a superb soundtrack. It totally transports the viewer to the stunning locations where it is set – Morocco, Mexico, Costa Rica, South Africa and New Zealand. This will be a fantastic outdoor cinema experience, which the museum is very happy to be hosting. We hope that we can do more events of this kind in the future. As a telecommunications museum we tend to work with a different kind of wave, but we love the link!”
The evening will also feature a short documentary film about big-wave rider Dan “Mole” Joel, made by Cornish production company Shark Bay Films. I had the pleasure of meeting Mole in the course of the research for Surf Nation, and can confirm that not only is he an awesome big-wave surfer, he's also one of life's good guys (though he did buy Wrecking Machine at the Secret Spot launch do for Surf Nation and I haven't heard from him since; he might have decided I'm still a nutter. Not true, of course, though Wrecking Machine is, I also found out recently, the most popular book in at least one of Her Majesty's prisons).
Anyway, enough digression: Mole will be attending the event along with his Doom Bar jetski, which he uses with tow partner Sam Lamiroy to ride some of the biggest waves in Britain - and Ireland. Anyone who caught the Carve Aileens shoot of a while back will know exactly what I'm talking about.
Meanwhile Joe Keohane, director of Sharp’s Brewery, said: “Working with SAS is a natural partnership for us – we wholeheartedly back their ethos of working towards cleaner waters for everyone to enjoy. We wanted to organise a series of events for both residents and visitors to Cornwall, which would raise the both profile of this worthwhile organisation whilst bringing in vital funds.”
Siobhan Keyes, fundraiser for SAS, said: “We’re really excited about the film festival – it’s not often that audiences in Cornwall have the chance to see great surf movies on the big screen. Sharp’s is already one of our sponsors so it gives us a fantastic opportunity to work together on an exciting project.”
As a resident of Porthcurno, I'm stoked that this event is happening, and I'd say that you could do a lot, lot worse than come here for the day on Saturday 1st September, check out the superb beach and awesome cliff walks and then settle down with some Doom Bar to watch Sprout. If you make the effort you might be joined by some German tourists, who come here every year in a Rosamund Pilcher pilgrimage - I'm told that one of her stories was filmed here and became a hit on German TV. As for the Japanese, apparently they rate the train journey from London Paddington to Porthcurno as the best on the world. Even though they have to get the bus at Penzance for the last eight miles...
Tickets for the event are priced at £6.50 for adults and £5 for
concessions, available from the Porthcurno Telegraph Museum Box Office
on 01736 810966. £1 from each ticket will go to SAS, with further
donations from sales of Doom Bar beer. Gates open at 6pm, screening
commences at 8pm. Photo of Logan Rock, near Porthcurno, courtesy of First and Last Cottages.
A friend of mine is into Cajun dancing. For some time, he has endeavoured to convince me of its merits. To no avail, for I am to dancing (of any kind) what my good friend Bloggish is to Hawaiian big-wave surfing. In short, I carry no cards of any kind.
My friend knows this, and alerted me to some instructional videos courtesy of www.videojug.com. I checked out how to pole dance, do the waltz, the Argentine tango and the quickstep, but sadly, despite the clear and easy to understand videos, my ineptitude on the dancefloor continues. I will have to live with this.
However, as I was casting around to see what else I could learn on VideoJug (there is even a "Love and Sex" area), I found a section devoted to surfing. Now all the rippers out there will sigh, but there was a time when you, too, were floundering in the ocean without a clue. Often enough I see people in the sea at entry level, those who love the idea of surfing and want to learn how, but they haven't the first idea how to lie on a board and paddle for, let alone catch, a wave (sometimes, with a hangover especially, I'm one of them). But here's a sample that shows how Videojug are making the ingenu's life easier. I think you'll agree that this is crystal clear, helpful stuff. Mind you, I wonder how the videos will sound when they come to convey the secret of getting barrelled...
VideoJug: How To Surf A Wave In One Day
These laws are immutable for all surfers in the 'rubbish to intermediate' category. Some apply only to those with partners and/or offspring but otherwise they are universal.
1. You will not have a good surf when you have skillfully evaded your partner's request that you mow the lawn.
2. When you know that you are being watched by anyone who rips, you will surf Very Badly Indeed.
3. Don't think, do. If you think, you will soon be thinking: "I wish I hadn't thought so much. Thinking stopped me from doing and, as a consequence, I had a lousy surf."
4. Do not encourage your offspring to surf too much, for very soon they will be better than you. If this happens, they will never stop reminding you and everyone you know of how slow/inelegant/ungainly you are in comparison.
5. Do not think that by sneaking off to surf without said offspring, you
will once again become better than them. You will be punished with the
worst surf of your life for allowing such a misplaced competitive
spirit to rear its head.
6. Ditto, accidentally leaving offspring's wetsuit at home so that only you can go for a surf.
7. Do not, ever, tell your partner that you'll be back on dry land in "just an hour or so." This never happens and for some inexplicable reason non-surfing partners left in cars for three hours at a time want to kill you when you come in stoked.
8. If you are having an indifferent time of it in surf that is backing off and decide to paddle in, the moment you do so a killer set will arrive. (NB: offspring, keen as ever, will have stayed out the back and will be yelling at you as he races down the line. Do not feel aggrieved for this is Your Fault.)
9. If, fed up with being hustled by all the hotshot teens, you decide "to hell with it" and elect to drop in on one of them, you will pay by either: (a) nose diving to your immense embarrassment, or (b) not even getting to your feet and going over the falls.
10. If, aware of all your above shortcomings, you decide not to bother going surfing even when it's pumping, you will simply get worse. And offspring will get better and better. Which is fine. Really. Honest...
An unruly, blown-out swell on the North Cornish coast yesterday as this picture courtesy of www.sennen-cove.com shows. But the south coast was working nicely as Christian Jackson demonstrated with a couple of barrels at my local break yesterday. More on Christian might well be at Splashography in a day or so.
I'm indebted to Alex Dick-Read of The Surfer's Path (which also has a great blog - check it out) for this footage. It's mindblowing. What next? Dropping in from the glacier?
The SAS Cornish and Open - the longest-running surf contest in the UK - kicks off tomorrow. Europe’s greenest surf festival runs on over the weekend and takes place at Porthtowan beach in Cornwall. The event combines SAS’s environmental ethos with all the entertainment you’d expect at a great surf festival. The strong emphasis on recycling, environmental talks, beach litter picks, eco-art workshops and locally sourced contest food is side by side with the high-octane surfing action and a great party atmosphere. Its organisers can justly claim that the event has a unique feel.
This year’s contest party takes place at Porthtowan’s Blue Bar on Saturday evening and features up and coming band The Blimms. O'Neill has shown its continuing support to SAS by becoming the event title sponsors, and O’Neill Marketing Director, Paul Wilkinson, summed up his company's rationale: “We are thrilled to be the title sponsor of the 2007 O’Neill, Surfers Against Sewage, Cornish and Open. This long-established event attracts top class surfers from across the globe and it’s shaping up to be a superb event. Surfers Against Sewage are a brilliant organisation and we are proud to be associated with them.”
Andy Cummins, SAS Campaign Officer, says “This event has a real family feel to it with the beach activities and has some great surfing action to watch. As always we are expecting the top UK surfers as well as a strong overseas contingent with South Africans and Australians amongst the winners in 2006. All we need is sunshine and good waves now.”
SAS would like also like to thank event co-sponsors: - local bottled water company Pure Blue, beachside bar and restaurant, The Blue Bar, and long established UK surfing mag Wavelength.
Big swell today in Cornwall. Carnage in the water in many places and, as ever, members of the Birmingham Navy showing little (or, more often, no) gratitude to those who save them from certain death. What, I wondered, do the lifeguards make of their lot? Here's lifeguard - and writer - Hannah May with a few thoughts.
First off, let's get one thing straight. It’s not Baywatch. For those shocked by this revelation, I'm not sure that I'm sorry. It is, though, a classic and alarmingly common misconception. I'll admit that I have been known to find a compliment or two in the Baywatch comparison, but the fact of the matter is that there’s a vast difference between public perception and occupational reality. If I can't entirely blame a fantasy US TV series for priming popular opinion on what we are or should be, I can, with iron-cast conviction, say this: lifeguards are not superfluous pot-headed beach bums or posey himbos. To brand us in this way is an insult and if you want to know why, read on.
Continue reading "Respect: this lifeguard, and others like her, can seriously save your life" »
A nice surf at Sennen Cove this afternoon despite ostensibly inclement conditions. Wind onshore and a crumbly, lumpy swell but, quite unaccountably, I had three or four head high beauties that were as pleasing as any waves I've surfed this year. Strange how things work out like this in surfing. I only really paddled out for the exercise and because elder son Harry is intent on surfing every day, and while he can handle himself in most conditions now I still don't like him to go out on his own. He also had a couple of non-surfing friends visiting and they wanted to give it a go, so inevitably tools were downed in favour of a trip to the beach. I found myself paddling back and forth between Harry, out the back, and his mates, messing about in the white water, which was a significant work-out given an unexpected training session with Sam, one of the Porthcurno lifeguards, at lunchtime. But despite feeling fairly tired, and despite looking at the surf and wondering whether it was worth it, along came those waves.
Just goes to show - if there's even a hint of swell, take it while you can.
Photo of Seb Smart, one of Sennen Cove's local rippers, courtesy of www.smartsurf.co.uk
Fistral Beach, Newquay, UK: The Men's Rip Curl Boardmasters 5 star World Qualifying Series (WQS) surfing contest came to a close this afternoon, with former Foster's ASP WCT surfer Ben Bourgeois (USA) defeating Brazilian excitement machine Heitor Alves in tricky, 2-3ft (1m) surf.
The Rip Curl Boardmasters started one week ago with 168 surfers, but at 4pm today there were only two competitors left standing on the winner's podium. For Bourgeois, the win launches him to second on the WQS Ratings, just 24 points behind WQS Tour leader Tiago Pires (PRT).
"I haven't won a contest in so long, so just being up there and getting that feeling is so awesome. I'm stoked," said Bourgeois after the presentation. "I've been on a little roll lately and I just wanted to keep it going here in England. I was just trying to take it heat by heat and it all came out my way at the end. I'm so happy."
Continue reading "Bourgeois and Silva take Honours at Rip Curl Boardmasters" »
Bloggish enjoyed a fine night last Friday at Fifteen restaurant. As he arrived, with card-carrying surfboat aficionado Andy Cox, he spotted Chris and Zoey of Errant Surf tucking into a BBQ on the fine Watergate Bay beach. A quick chat and then it was to Fifteen's private dining room, for Bloggish lives a life of unmitigated celebrity. Actually, talking of celebrities, Bloggish found himself sitting next to double Olympic gold medal winner James Cracknell, Land Rover's ambassador at the Rip Curl Boardmasters. He and his lovely wife Beverley were excellent company, as were Diana and Nicky of Land Rover (to whom, many thanks). It was good to catch up with surfer and ITV man Steve Hardy though the wisdom of continuing drinking after the meal, first at the Headland Hotel in Newquay and then at the home of lensmen Tony Plant (awesome Carve cover) was lost when Bloggish awoke at Andy's place feeling more than slightly rough the morning after.
No matter, for Bloggish is nothing if not resilient, and there were rumours of a micro-swell hitting the north Cornish coast. Bloggish arrived home to hear that Bloggish Son 1 had enjoyed one of his best surfs yet courtesy of the Sennen Surf Cadets.
"Bloggish Dad, you should have been there instead of festering at card-carrying Andy's place. The waves were brilliant. I had the longest rides of my life."
Even Bloggish Son 2 agreed. At a mere nine years old, sibling rivalry sometimes prevents him embracing surfing with Bloggish Son 1's fervour, but he too was stoked. "It was fantastic, Bloggish Dad. You're an idiot."
Bloggish had heard enough. He grabbed his board and drove drekkly to Sennen Cove. Soon he was in the water, and albeit that, on the pushing tide, the surf tended to back off a little, Bloggish felt his head clear as he practised the Sport of Kings. Two hours later, as he was walking along the beach, he was accosted by weathered individual brandishing what he called "Ripple." This man, one Neil Watson, was a long way from home, and yet he evinced a familiarity with the area, as if he had once sojourned at Skewjack. But that is another story. This is what he said:
A word of advice to you, Bloggish, not to mention Bloggish Sons 1 and 2 and the card-carrying aficionado of Hungarian small waves. I speak as one who seen the truth, so listen carefully. If any of you should happen upon a copy of my Ripple magazine in the British Surfing Museum you will rightly say unto yourselves: "is it possible that, thirty years ago, there was a publication catering for our tiny-wave tastes?"
In that long-gone era of innocent enjoyment, some readers assumed that Ripple was a tongue-in-cheek title, analogous to small beginnings, to things which spread and grow, things like ridable waves in the North Sea perhaps.
Ha! The fools! How naive! Today's "card carrying afficionado of Hawaiian big waves" knows the magazine could only cover tiny wrinkles on the North Sea's pond-like surface, and any pictures to the contrary were fakes.
These Ripple covers show just how good my darkroom fakery skills were...
And with that, he was gone, leaving only a card.
Some great skating going down at the Rip Curl Boardmasters. For those who can't make it to the vert ramp on the beach here's some mind-blowing footage of what happens when parkour meets skateboarding. Watch it to the end but don't try it at home. Or anywhere. (I think I may have said that about skateboarding before.) The genius concerned is William Spencer.
Once upon a time, a bloggish bloke found himself talking to a card-carrying aficionado of Hungarian small-wave surfing. The latter had emerged from a two-year quest in search of the smallest wave in the UK and was out of sorts. He had ransacked the high streets and car parks of every town, village and city only to realise that his quest, if not doomed, was destined for a significant degree of frustration. "I have come to realise that waves, even small ones, can only be found by the coast," he said.
The bloggish bloke put an arm around his shoulder and said: "My friend, such epiphanies come to us all, and we should greet them with equanimity. I myself have surfed some of the smallest waves imaginable and yet I am unheralded even in my own hamlet. No wonder, for I am to surfing what Pete Doherty is to jurisprudence. But no matter, let us never speak of these things, instead let me help you for I have friends in small places. Come with me and I will take you to a wave smaller than anything that Lake Balaton can muster even on its flattest day."
And so they ventured forth, this unlikely pair, away from the flatlands and to the coastal realm. Bloggish (for that was his name) felt confident that he could help his newfound friend fulfill what, it transpired, was a quest of international import. After all, the (card-carrying) aficionado of Hungarian small-wave surfing had also visited Switzerland, Chad and Nepal - "with much success," as he put it.
Knowing that ours is Not A Kingdom By The Surf and that hype turns ripples into waves, Bloggish took him first to Cornwall, the land of the dud and the joke. There they found Porthleven firing at 6ft and Spot Z barreling with uncalled for vigour, not to mention a number of Australian emigre surfers looking worryingly stoked, so Bloggish swiftly ushered him to Devon, where no one does anything except eat cream teas and get fat. There a surreal, once in a lifetime mid-Atlantic low created fast, hollow low tide waves and frustration began to kick in. Bizarrely, the same thing happened in the coves and peninsulas of the Celtic fringe. "No matter!," said Bloggish, for he was ever enthusiastic in a delusional, misguided fashion, "We shall press onward, to the northern lands, where there is nothing and no one."
But it was as if one of them, or both, or neither, had commited an act of hubris, rather similar to a fictional sailor who once killed an albatross. For everywhere they went across this watery realm they found that waves existed. They were big and large and highly surfable, or just as often nothing but onshore mush, but they were waves, for sure. There was only thing for it. Bloggish would take his friend to Thurso East: there his quest would end, and there they would see cartoon caricatures of tiny, spinning Balaton-esque waves.
Only it didn't work out like that. Thurso was firing at three times overhead. Bloggish was dumbfounded. His friend said: "You gave me your word that you knew the small places. Look at this! It's no good, I will have to go back inland, for only there will I be able to surf a really small wave."
 Bloggish said: "Hang on mate, I'm not going out either - it's way too big! And it's a reef break! How about we go and surf the beachbreak along the coast? I know you love your Balaton barrels and I respect that, but we can't all be elitists. You don't need to commit to just one kind of surfing. Think of all the millions of surfers who just surf massive waves - don't you think they'd feel marginalised by your obsession with Avowedly Inadequate Surf? By the way, have you ever read anything by Torngy Lindgren? He's very good."
Bloggish's friend looked unconvinced. He whispered something about a novel called In Praise of Truth and fell into a trance. It was as if he was trapped in an obsessive vortex from which he might never escape. Bloggish tried one last move.
"How about if we try and create a new wave of surfing? Let's bin the talk of voluptuous barrels, whether from Lake Balaton or those that are all too prevalent around the UK. Let's make a quantum leap! If we're ever good enough, sure, let's renew this quest of yours, but until then, let's not foist our big talk of enviable small surf on the big-wave riding masses. For now, why don't we just stay stoked by getting in the water, whatever the conditions and however crap we are, and going for a surf?"
 Bloggish's friend scratched his head. For a long time, he was lost in thought. Suddenly he awoke with a eureka! look on his face. And then he said: "There is a place called Hawaii. It is the international epicentre of surfing. I have a card and can get us in. There, warmed by sultry breezes and in the shade of palm trees, we can talk about this some more." And before Bloggish could answer he'd gone, leaving not even a wetsuit in his unfathomable wake.
At least two of the pictures of non-existent UK waves (Leven and Porthmeor from the top) are (C) www.findyourwave.co.uk, where there are allegedly additional similar images. The other pictures and the waves depicted do not exist.
Contrary to one or two dinosaurs with their ever-so-slightly outdated opinions, women do spend time in the water. And when they're there, as this week's Boardmasters has demonstrated, they rip. Noticeable also at the Boardmasters was an even split in the trade village between men and women. Those in the latter category might also like to check out a great new website set up to reflect a more realistic profile of the female surfer. I'm tempted to shop at New Oxygen myself - for my wife, at least...
The book pictured can be bought via the New Oxygen website.
Sunny skies, a favourable wind and clean 2ft waves welcomed the Rip Curl Boardmasters to Newquay's Fistral Beach this morning for Day 3 of the week-long surf and music festival. Although the swell size dropped overnight, competition did start at 8am this morning - with event organisers running the final eight heats of Round 2. Tour veteran and 2002 ISA World Champion runner-up Frédéric Robin (Reu) handled the small waves well this morning, unleashing his quick back-hand attack to defeat Nathan Carroll (HAW), Michael Marjanovic (AUS) and Norman Landa (EUK) in Heat 19. Robin recorded a two-wave combined heat score of 13.50 points out of 20 to book himself a spot in Round 3.
Another surfer advancing through to Round 3 this morning was Brian Toth (PRI), who was lucky to make the event on time after a three days travel mission from Japan. Toth actually missed his heat yesterday, because he was still in transit, but was luckily awarded a spot today as the event's "first alternate" when Luis Rodriguez withdrew. Despite jetlag and travel stress, the goofy-footer advanced through his grabbed second place to qualify.
“Everything’s been against me for the last three days and I got here knowing I had missed my heat," explained a jetlagged and travel stressed Toth. "Luckily I was here early this morning and as first alternate got the first empty spot to jump in the event and get a go. I had a coffee after my early warm-up surf and was waiting with my wetsuit on to make sure I wasn’t going to miss anything else. I had a quick word with my coach before paddling out and then just gave it all I could to get this qualification. As soon as I found that 7.50-point ride I felt a bit more relaxed and confident, then ended the heat well."
Continue reading "Round Two finished at the Rip Curl Boardmasters" »
I made the trek from the far west up to Newquay today - and am very glad that I did. There are those who don't like the hype of the Rip Curl Boardmasters and, as I have noted previously, I can sympathise with some of their views. But the sun was blazing down on 3-4ft surf today as the Women’s 5 star World Qualifying Series (WQS) hit the water at Newquay’s Fistral Beach. The women competed in front of a massive crowd and made the most of what was a decent, if wind-blown, swell. It was great to watch and great to be there. This has to be the biggest and best organised Boardmasters I've ever attended - the vibe was good and British surfing was in rude health. The trade village was packed and as ever the skaters on the huge half-pipe were superb (including, especially, young Sam Bosworth from Newlyn). It was good to bump into Dave Reed of the BPSA Tour looking as chilled as ever and to note, in contrast, that James Rodd of Sportsvision hasn't lost the ability to move at lightning pace through 500 hundred people. Nice to catch up with the Surfers Against Sewage crew and see Chris Hines with new, almost ready to go Eco Boards. South African surf trip specialists Ticket To Ride were there and it was a bonus to find that the Smart brothers, Sam and Seb as well as St Ives-based Tassy Swallow were getting ready for the event thanks to wildcard entries.
British surfing, a joke? Trying telling that to anyone at Fistral today. Speaking for myself I cast aside all further thoughts about that particular debate thanks first to the Boardmasters and then to an early evening surf at a semi-secret spot back down my way with just my elder son and one of his friends. The 3-4ft waves, in bright sunshine, were made challenging thanks to a fair bit of backwash from the cliffs but it was just the three of us out in crystal clear waters and it was a lot of fun. British surfing, a joke? Sorry, there I go again. I think someone's having a joke to suggest that it's a joke, but that's a bit convoluted so I'll park that thought and just stay stoked. Read on for the contest low-down today.
Continue reading "Rip Curl Boardmasters off to storming start" »
 So ran the teaser which, to be fair, wouldn't have been written by Our Man In Cambridge. His ruminations on the apparently all-but-mythical nature of domestic surf can be found here.
The photographs of one section of my local break today appear courtesy of www.sennen-cove.com.
The Rip Curl Boardmasters starts tomorrow. Among the throng visiting Fistral Beach will, at some stage, be double Olympic gold medal winner James Cracknell (pictured). He's there as an ambassador for Land Rover, one of the co-sponsors of the event. Cracknell is a surfing aficionado, so much so that he named his son Croyde after the North Devon surfing village. As he told me earlier this week: "I've always loved the water, whether rowing or canoeing or swimming. During the Olympic Games in Sydney, once training was over I'd go and get a few waves on the Gold Coast." Though he lives in Chiswick, Cracknell gets to the coast whenever he can, and has also put in some time in Hawaii.
He is not one to inflate his North Shore experience: "I paddled out at Pipeline, yes - but I just got nailed." Indeed, when it comes to surfing modesty is his thing. "I love surfing but please don't make me out to be some hotshot. I'm not. I just love waves and trying to ride them whenever I get the chance."
Modesty is a good quality, and it was shared by Hawaiian surfer Love Hodel, whom I met at the O'Neill Highland Open in 2006. Hodel preferred to wax lyrical about the quality of Scottish surf rather than regale me with tales of North Shore derring-do, and as we wandered Thurso's streets to the chip shop mentioned that he'd taken "a British Olympic athlete surfing on the North Shore." Who might that be, I asked? It transpired that it was Cracknell himself.
"Hodel was my guide when I was there," he confirms. "A great guy. Really cool. When we surfed Pipe I got moshed but he still had dry hair after 45 minutes."
There's more on Hodel in Surf Nation, notably his connection with the notorious Black Dahlia murder. Cracknell found him as engaging an individual as I did, though he was unable to confirm how the Hawaiian's love of poker was progressing, saying only: "He's probably doing very well at it - he's one of those people who's good at everything." Cracknell, though, is no slouch at a number of things, having developed a respected role as a journalist and television presenter post-Olympic glory. He has also notched up at least one amateur boxing bout ("I'd like to have another," he says), and I'd wager that if he put some time into his surfing he'd rapidly become pretty good at it, too.
Cracknell has every respect for the pro surfers rolling into town for the Rip Curl Boardmasters: "They're unbelievably fit and athletic, naturally strong and very supple."
There's swell at the moment so check out the action tomorrow. You might even catch a glimpse of an Olympic gold medallist while you're there.
Beach Bum's has to be one of the finest. Beach Bum, whose identity remains a closely guarded secret, comes up with extraordinary images such as that which appears here (I refer to the Best of the Surf Coasters cover) and writes extremely well, to boot. He also notes the excellent feature in Sharpy's Slide mag about surf mag covers that never saw the light of day. Here, in good company with the Japan's most popular instrumental combo, is one of them.
A wonderful afternoon's surfing at Sennen Cove today. The picture shows the Cove around high tide at 9.30 in the morning. Swell lumpy and chunky and too much for the Surf Cadets. On the dropping tide at around 1.00pm not only did the sun start to come out but the swell cleaned up, especially at the western end of the beach. Well that's where Harry (elder son) and I paddled out anyway - too big for the pair of us down towards Gwenver. Had some nice waves and then, as the sun came out and made Whitesand Bay utterly resplendent, got nailed a few times as the swell settled down to fast, late take off semi close-out waves suitable for groms and rippers and Surfers Who Are Much Better Than Me. For once, Harry called it a day before me, and now, as I write this, three hours in the water is starting to bite.
Here's hoping the swell stays around for the Rip Curl Boardmasters, which kicks off on Monday. But in the meantime, one great memory I have of today is of a surfer mid-way along the beach dropping down the face of a right-hander that was comfortably overhead, bottom turning and tucking into a brief but pristine barrel. Wonderful.
Curious threads today... I learn of potential doom at my beloved QPR FC, go skating in Hayle with my kids and a man from Leeds, chat to Stef at the lifeguard hut in Porthcurno (Stef is the man from Leeds' contact down here in the far west), and take a call from an old mate who used to skate underneath the Westway. Just round the corner from the Westway, in Portobello, there's a film festival on at the moment, one that runs until 21 August. I have fond memories of the area as a post and/or pre QPR match drinking haunt and as the spiritual home of British skateboarding thanks to the Meanwhiles, 1 and 2. My mate doesn't skate anymore but tells me that all is not well at Loftus Road, the still - just - home of QPR. We chew the fat and lament the passing of the good old days, I vow to go and skate Hayle again this evening, my mate says he might try and get hold of a groovy new set up that he's heard about from New Jersey, and we both pray for QPR. Then an email lands from Suyen Mosley, a reader of this blog based in the US, who says she's in England and wouldn't mind borrowing a board for a surf. Of course, the answer is yes, but meanwhile (excuse the pun) it turns out that Suyen is just around the corner from my mate in the Westway, for she is showing her Surf Noir film at the Portobello Film Festival.
I told my mate to go and check it out - if you're in London on 6th August I suggest you do the same. The Inn on the Green in Portobello is the venue, and the time is 7-8pm. The Inn on the Green isn't far from where Jimi Hendrix died but what he has to do with all this I don't know.
 It's that man Andy Cox again - with big news for the surfboat community...
In an announcement that has shaken the surfboat community to its keel, Ocean Thunder, the professional surfboat series run in Australia, has confirmed its intention to stage an event at Biarritz in south-west France next year. Taken together with the creation of the European Surfboat Rowers Federation (ESRF) in April this year, it means that 2007 is likely to go down as the year the sport came of age in Europe.
Gary Watts is OT’s chief executive: “Ocean Thunder Europe is a major step forward for the development of surfboat rowing internationally. We are very excited about this event.”
Plans at this stage are provisional and contingent on adequate sponsorship being found. Should this be forthcoming, the aim is to hold the European Cup on Grand Plage on Friday 5 September 2008 with the Ocean Thunder Europe contest to follow on the Saturday. The OT Europe contest will be open to all and is expected to attract not only surfboat rowers but also some of the more intrepid flat water teams from across Europe. Peter Gaisford, secretary of the UK Surf Rowers League, sums up the excitement in the UK: “We see
Ocean Thunder as an evolutionary process in the development of surf
rowing in Europe. Competing against quality Australian crews will
benefit the European rowers enormously."
The contest will be filmed and subsequently broadcast on selected TV networks around the world. Currently, the OT 2006 series is being shown on Watersports World - a reflection of the obvious and growing appeal that the sport provides to the viewing public. The inaugural ESRF contest is pencilled in for 1-4 November this year on the unforgiving sands of Hossegor, France. Teams are expected from France, Spain, Portugal, Holland as well as the UK.
Picture courtesy of Ocean Thunder/Harvie Allison.
Here's Andy Cox with the latest surfboat carnage.
Ten feet of white water was rolling through the contest arena when the crews began to arrive at Saunton Sands on north Devon’s coast for the UK Open Surfboat Championships that took place on Saturday 28 July. There was apprehension among the experienced crews; among the novices the feeling was closer to terror. The training session scheduled for the Friday before race day had to be moved to the flat waters of Instow. In the calm before the storm, the debutants were introduced to the mysteries of standing starts, turns and the sprint finishes that involve leaping out of a still-moving boat, wading through thigh deep water and running, with whatever energy is left, to a flag on the beach. Instruction was also provided on what to do in the event of a roll-over (come up away from the boat and count heads).
No amount of preparation, however, was going to settle the butterflies of the river racers from the likes of Molesey, Marlow, Nottingham and Cambridge CCAT. Not when Saturday dawned with sets still at head height and above, whipped by a capricious cross-onshore breeze. “I was nervous before the start,” admitted Cat Lusty who rowed for the Molesey Pirates. “But it made for a massive adrenaline rush.”
Continue reading "Big surf as Porthtowan Blue Bali take Open Title" »
The sea at my local beach, Porthcurno, could not be more inviting right now. Well, that's if swimming and snorkelling is your thing. It's so flat, clear, pristine and perfect that it'd be no surprise if a Great White decided to take up permanent residence. Be that as it may, this is not an ocean that is currently offering all that much for The Sport of Kings. Those who organise the Rip Curl Boardmasters - which starts this Monday - can however take comfort from the likelihood of swell this weekend. A glance at the Magic Seaweed site confirms that there should be waves on Saturday and Sunday, with some swell kicking around for the rest of the week.
Last year's Boardmasters was blessed with surf, while the 2005 event - despite exquisite weather - saw little more than the occasional stray bulge caress the shore. The lack of consistent summer swell in the UK is a perennial source of debate, with its naysayers arguing that the Boardmasters is little more than a branding exercise, one which is rendered all the more transparent when the Surf Gods refuse to play ball. In contrast, Boardmasters devotees point out that the quality of surfing in even small surf during the Boardmasters is breath-taking, so too the heroic exploits of the pro skaters on the Vans vert ramp. Moreover, given that the Boardmasters is one of the world's largest surfing spectator events, it's an event where there's always something going on. To paraphrase Dr Johnson, "If a man is bored of the Boardmasters, he is bored of surfing."
Personally I find myself in rather than out of the Boardmasters camp. Here in the UK we only have two international surfing events a year, the Boardmasters and the O'Neill Highland Open in Thurso, Scotland, and though very different in character both are vital to domestic surfing. The surf has pumped for the O'Neill events held over the past two years, showcasing awesome Scottish waves and providing a platform for a win by Russell Winter in 2006. Winter was also the first Briton to win the Boardmasters, in 2002, and while local surfers did not fare especially well in last summer's Boardmasters the heavy, shifting surf was as challenging as any on the WQS circuit.
But the key factor, it seems to me, is the long-term fate of British surfing. If we want to compete on equal terms with the world's best, surfing needs to be encouraged. Its joys need to be brought to as wide an audience as possible. Sure, the trade village will do a roaring trade at the Boardmasters, but as Tim Heyland of North Devon surf co Tiki once put it: "Without commercialism we'd all still be riding balsa wood boards." Moreover, there are plenty of people here in Cornwall and other coastal communities who wouldn't be able to survive without surfing's alleged dispatch of its soul. For them, the crowds flocking to the Boardmasters represent manna from heaven.
Purists decry not merely the Boardmasters but also the Highland Open. They argue that competitive surfing is not what surfing is about, full stop. I know one or two people who hold this view, and it's one that I respect. But if I think about it, those people tend towards the maverick and, as such, would do their own thing in almost any environment. More power to them, for they carve out a surfing life that is unpretentious, genuine and, in the UK, as hardcore as it gets.
But I suspect that many of this crew are a bit like me. I first attended the Boardmasters 21 years ago, as a rite of passage for anyone interested in surfing. They probably did the same. I remember watching Carwyn Williams tearing it up then. Last year I watched slack-jawed as Adriano de Souza went through his repertoire. Now, when I ask my sons if they'd like to go, their response is simple: "Yeah! Of course! Dad, you can't miss the Boardmasters!"
For pre-teenage kids stoked on surfing, the Boardmasters is one of the year's highlights. The simple fact is that British surfing needs companies like Rip Curl to back the Boardmasters. So my advice is to get along, check it out, enjoy the Vert ramp and watch pros of the quality of WCT surfers David Weare, Troy Brooks, Rebecca Woods and Samantha Cornish in action. These people - along with local heroes such as Winter, Alan Stokes, Sam Lamiroy and up and coming ripper Jayce Robinson - are fantastic to watch, big surf or small. But better still, the charts indicate that we'll have some swell. As my sons put it: "No way can we miss the Boardmasters."
The Rip Curl Boardmasters starts this Monday 6 August at Fistral Beach, Newquay. The 5-star WQS event runs until 12 August.
Overheard today in a surf shop: "You know those rash vests, can you get them for your legs?"
This rivals, but does not match, the immortal question of one of the local lifeguards, by someone grappling with the existence of tides: "Where does all the water go?"
But the best is probably that which flowed in the wake of the appearance of the great white shark in the waters off St Ives. For yes, it was a great white, not a mere basking shark, far from it. It gnashed its teeth and said: "It is the silly season and Fleet Street's finest are starved of things to write about, so I will venture to Cornish waters and cause a stir." The great white duly appeared, as it tends to do every summer, and kept thousands of news-deprived journalists out of the local hostelries for at least five minutes.
But as is his custom, a certain lifeguard put up a sign next to his hut saying: "Please don't feed the sharks." This was a bit harsh on the sharks, especially the ravenous great white, for it would Go Hungry. This, at any rate, was the verdict of one tourist.
"Why can't you feed the sharks?" she said, looking anxious. "Aren't they more likely to cause trouble if they're not fed?"
It takes all sorts, said the great white, as he morphed unseen into a cuddly, plankton-eating basking shark and headed away from Fleet Street for another year.
 Alex Wade is a freelance writer who lives and surfs in the far west of Cornwall. Alex's blog will bring
you up-to-date news of our surf scene, what's on and where to surf, as well
as the best of contemporary surfing writing from around Britain. The aim is
to get you stoked and into the water as often as possible, because, as the
old saying goes: "Surfing is life. The rest is details."
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I posted recently on Hurricane Dean and surfing in Aruba. Turns out the video that ADR alerted me to was shot by Bamboo, who's a friend of Jeffrey Dijkhoff, who lent me a board when I was in Aruba playing poker. Here are some more shots to prove that this piece of Caribbean paradise gets swell. As Jeffrey says, it was "superb... just perfect on the quiet side of Aruba. Clean clean."
Congrats to Jeffrey and Shaendeeh on the birth of their first child, Zuhdsey - and in response to their question (when am I heading back to Aruba?), the answer is: I'm working on it. But to surf, not to play poker...
