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One of Europe’s top pro surfers has been appointed Patron to the British Surfing Museum.
Quiksilver and Gravis rider Gabe Davies, who holds multiple British and national titles, has agreed to join the not for profit organisation and will help out with publicity, advice and special events.
“We asked Gabe because we believe he is the perfect role model for British surfing,” said museum founder and director Pete Robinson. “His recent achievements alone – riding some of the biggest waves in the world off the coast of Ireland – mean his name is already legendary. He has his own great history of British surfing, with his many competition wins and performances in oceans the world over – but more than that he is a forward-thinking man with great credentials. Gabe is someone all surfers of all abilities can look up to with admiration.”
Gabe has been surfing since the age of 11, when he took to the waves at his home beach of Tynemouth in North East England. He now divides his time between the UK and South West France where he lives with his wife – the best selling fiction author Lauren Davies.
The British Surfing Museum, sponsored by Oxbow UK, is in detailed talks with a trust in Cornwall and plans to establish a permanent home by 2010. Among its many artefacts, the museum owns more than 100 original British surfboards which make up a complete timeline of the last century of surfing in the UK.
Its research has recently uncovered remarkable footage of stand-up surfing in Cornwall in 1929, plus references to surfing taking place in England in the mid-19th Century and evidence that Captain James Cook’s crew tried surfboards when they first made contact with Hawaii in 1778.
Of his appointment, Gabe Davies said: “One of the most unique and fascinating aspects of surfing is its history and its heritage. Every surfer feels he or she is a direct descendant of the sport of Hawaiian kings. We all share that special connection with the ocean. The British Surfing Museum is the best way for myself and others to view our heritage first hand, as well as to help educate, and of course protect the roots of British surfing. This is something I feel proud to support and I'd encourage participation in the museum at every level.”
The surf museum project was started in 2003 by 47 year old Robinson, who runs ITV’s community broadband internet service ITV Local, and currently operates a series of touring exhibitions visiting surfing communities around the UK. Its next dates are 1 May to 14 June 2008 at Red House Museum in Christchurch, and 28 June to 7 September 2008 at the National Fishing Heritage Centre in Grimsby.
As well as appointing Gabe Davies as Patron, the museum’s steering committee has now been expanded to include World Champion kite-surfer Kirsty Jones, Surf Nation author Alex Wade, surf writer and journalist Alf Alderson, and Neil Watson from East Anglia who cut his teeth in surf publishing in the 1970s with seminal titles that included Ripple and Surf.
For further information and interviews call Pete Robinson on 07801 522892 or
email thesurfingmuseum@btinternet.com
Photos of Gabe Davies courtesy of the Extreme Sports Channel
A key but thus far unheralded component in what makes a stay at Zed's Place so rewarding is Bajan Bob. Here is pictured with Denzil, a young lad who often stays here.
Bajan Bob lives under the stairs outside and is partial to leftovers from KFC bargain buckets. He professes disillusionment with the contemporary pro surfing scene but, in truth, never really got his act together for contests. As he says: "I was never in the right frame of mind come the big day. I could be distracted by anything - the drop of a hat, a Colonel's Combo, a roti from Chefette, a stray cliche, anything. Worse, leashes always made me feel at once excited - as if I were about to go on a walk - and imprisoned, as if I were a mere canine. It was a tough dilemma to resolve and, if I'm totally honest, I usually ended up barking up the wrong tree."
Bajan Bob is 12, and gives me the following advice for tomorrow's trip to the Soup Bowl: "There's a Chefette on the way, up near Six Roads. Can you stop and bring me back some chicken nuggets?" The way he wags his tail is irresistible, and I can't refuse his humble request. Likewise, I find myself unable to bail from my Soup Bowl debut, despite a recurrence of my groin strain and any number of other credible excuses. More tomorrow, and hopefully - if I'm still capable of engaging in financial transactions at fast-food joints after the Soup - some nuggets for Bob.
Today's morning surf did not happen owing to a pronounced need for rest. This was the result of an excellent evening out at Cafe Luna with Karen, Zed Layson and his fiancee Claudia. If anyone reading this is ever as blessed as we have been to be able to visit Barbados, a meal at Cafe Luna is a must. It'll cost more than eating at Oistins but the cooking by the chef, Canadian longboarder Moo, is worth every Bajan dollar. Zed and I had the beef tenderloin, the girls had the sushi - and speaking for Karen and myself, we felt the food was the best we'd ever had. I exaggerate not - just writing this makes me want to head over there for more.
The wine was also superb, and it flowed liberally. Perhaps a little too liberally, for this morning I couldn't have laid flat on a surfboard let alone jump to my feet and catch any waves. However, this afternoon Harry and I, with a local lad called Brandon, had a fun surf at small Freights. My longboard conversion continues though Zed and Moo are talking of a trip to the Soup Bowl tomorrow. I don't fancy this on a longboard and given that it's likely to be onshore and gnarly I'm not sure I fancy it all that much, full stop. We shall see.
Meanwhile, Barry Gale, the Bajan lawyer I interviewed yesterday, alerts me to Chris Welch's website. Check it out for some great shots of Bajan surfing (and skating), as well as last week's north swell. And check this footage also - a slice of Bajan reggae by Barry's son, who when not studying at Bristol University goes by the name of Vizion and makes some very cool music.
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Today I'm 42. I'm at Zed's Place in Barbados. I've surfed my brains out for the past 10 days and there's still a fun wave to be had at Freights. We might venture to the Soup Bowl this weekend and tonight we're certainly out at Cafe Luna.
It's all a bit too good to be true and I find myself touching wood on a daily basis. The events of Wrecking Machine happened eight or nine years ago but they sometimes pop into my mind and, when they do, my ability to be a master of disaster feels all too proximate.
During my Wrecking Machine phase, I was a lawyer (that's two plugs of your first book. I'll let you off because it's your birthday. Ed.). This was a profession whose intellectual aspects always intrigued me but whose rigmarole wasn't my thing. At all. Today I'm off to interview a lawyer I met in the line-up at Freights yesterday, this for a weekly slot on lawyers with interests outside the law (which today features sometime contributor to this blog and Perranporth surfboat rower Andy Cox). The Bajan lawyer's name is Barry Gale and watching him surf yesterday put me in mind of Tim Kevan's book, 'Why Lawyers Should Surf'. Kevan's book is a passionate call for professionals to destress themselves by gliding on a few turquoise walls. Kevan, with co-author Michelle Tempest, makes more than a few nods to the Romantic notion of the sublime, a trait that he shares with many writers on surfing (though to my knowledge, Kevan is the first writer to co-opt TS Eliot - arch-modernist and poet of despair - in favour of surfing). While avowedly a motivational book Why Lawyers Should Surf contains many fascinating curios on surfing and makes me wonder whether, if I'd been surfing as much as I'd wanted to do during my legal (illegal) days, I might have avoided the Wrecking Machine phase.
Pondering why lawyers should surf is not a question Barry Gale will have trouble answering. He carved and trimmed elegantly at Freights yesterday and looks very much like a man who's found the answers. Or, maybe, like someone who didn't need to ask the questions.
Meanwhile, isn't it fantastic to see Kelly Slater notch up his second successive win on this year's WCT? Slater claimed his 36th career win and his third victory at Bell's Beach. He's 36, which, in pro surfing as in many sports, is generally regarded as past it. Great stuff.
By way of proving that the internet knows no barriers, here in Barbados I'm contacted by Deza Seventeen, a Portuguese company specialising in surf-themed art and design. They have a nice line in some of the funkiest mugs and teapots around, as well as a variety of personalised artwork. Henrique, please send me some images and I'll post them.
Meanwhile, Freights continues to deliver. But I fear that I'm in danger of alienating a large number of my readers if I keep banging on about surfing perfect waves in boardshorts, so will say no more other than to note that tonight I'm having a drink with Moo, the surfer I mentioned the other day.
Moo, the owner and chef at Cafe Luna, does not look like a man who holds back. A late-night game of poker has been suggested and the Bajan idyll of being first in the water each day and then surfing for three hours might well be suffering from a severe hangover by the time this post appears. Perhaps the The Aqualads will help ease the pain. Again, I'm told from afar of their allegedly dulcet tones - does anyone know what they're like?
Here in Barbados I hooked up with the man who might just be crowned Britain's first world surfing champion by mid-October. I'm talking about Ben Skinner, the Jersey-born Perranporth resident who was here with Russell Winter, Ben Baird and Kirstin Prisk for last week's serious north swell.
At 23, Skindog has already achieved a huge amount in national and international surfing. He is the reigning British Longboard Union champion and won a silver medal at the 2006 World Surfing Games. He bagged another longboard triumph when he won the European Professional Longboard title, but is also an excellent shortboarder as he proved at last year's Gold Rush contest at Fistral. He surfs big waves, too - having both tow-surfed and paddled (on a longboard) into Aileens. A large degree of additional cool comes from the fact that he shreds on a skateboard as well.
For the second time, this year will see a WCT for longboarding - and Skindog might be the man to take the title. "If I get in the right frame of mind, I think I can do it," he says, with poise and equanimity beyond his years. A hint at the competitive streak necessary for success at this level comes when he adds that "I'm not travelling to the events to come second. I'm after first place each time I paddle out." Further confirmation of Skinner's drive comes when he confesses that last year, when he was eliminated from the longboard WCT at Les Cavaliers, he punched a sign in frustration. "I'd had an interference called against me and was gutted to go out."
This burst of anger resulted in a broken hand, but I met a much more chilled Skindog in Barbados. It was his first time here, and he loves the place. "It's been a brilliant trip," he says. "I was so lucky to come over with Russ. He knows the island like the back of his hand and we surfed some sick breaks. Ben is so powerful to watch and seeing Russ surf is an inspiration. He's easily the best surfer Britain has ever produced."
Skinner's chances of eclipsing Winter come down, initially at least, to his father, who took him surfing at the age of three. "I can't really remember when I started surfing but I think it was then," he says. "My dream was always to be a pro surfer and I've been in the water all my life." A key moment in his surfing development then followed when he was eight: "I met Joel Tudor, who was my hero as a kid. He took me surfing and I saw what you could do as a longboarder." As soon as he left school, Skinner threw himself into as many surfing contests as he could. "It's taken a while to start achieving my potential but I proved to the world what I can do at the Surfing Games," he says.
In Barbados, Winter's local knowledge meant that the trio surfed a break called Ignorance. "It's a right-hander over a slab that just reels," he says, eyes lighting up at the memory. "We had it to ourselves at a solid 4ft. It's one of the best waves I've ever surfed. We also caught the Soup Bowl reasonably clean as well as Duppies and some smaller waves on the south coast. This island has got some awesome surf."
Skinner, whose main sponsors are Oxbow and Reef, mentions Adam Griffiths and James Parry as two of the best longboarders in the UK, and pours yet more of his considerable energy into Newquay-based Adams Surfboards (more on which when I'm back in Cornwall). With partner Michelle England he's a new father, to nine week-old Lukas, whom he couldn't wait to see upon his return to the UK.
In Ben Skinner, the UK could have a future surfing world champion, while surfing generally has one of its most accomplished all-round performers. Look out for his progress, and, hopefully, no broken bones, at the first WCT longboard event on 5 May at Les Cavalliers in France.
Images courtesy of Kirstin Prisk and Surf Station.
We've settled into a nice routine here in Barbados. In the mornings, Harry and I go and surf Freights. During the day, as a family we hang out at Surfers' Point or head off on mini-tours of the island. At about 4.00pm, Harry and I go back and surf Freights until it's dark. Usually we then head out en masse again and eat at Surfer's Bay, a very cool establishment which has been showing Surf's Up a fair bit lately. I mention this film, of surf-happy penguins, by way of a confession: I find myself worryingly gripped by the action scenes (though I can't help but ask - why are said scenes almost always on left-handers?).
Yesterday Karen and I deviated from the norm a little in venturing, sans enfants, to the Atlantis Hotel & Restaurant, at Tent Bay, for lunch. The Atlantis dates from 1884 and overlooks the rocky coastline and endless blue horizon just along from the Soup Bowl (messy and a little over head high yesterday, with its vertical take-off taking out two surfers in just the five minutes that we were there). At the Atlantis we were welcomed by Theo Williams and, outside on the terrace where the wind turns from something that messes up surf to a pleasingly cooling part of life in Barbados, we enjoyed Bajan cooking at its finest. The Atlantis is used as a retreat by Bajan writer George Lamming, and no wonder. It's a great place and I'd recommend it to anyone, whether they're here to surf or otherwise.
Now it's time for Freights.
Great to hear from Jeffrey Dijkhoff in Aruba. Those who've followed this blog for a while might recall that Jeffrey and his wife Shaendeeh saved me from poker hell when I was on their island about 18 months ago.
As these pictures show, Aruba caught the same north swell that hit Barbados last week. Thanks for getting in touch, Jeffrey - as ever, I hope to return to Aruba one day.
I'm just back from surfing Freights with Harry. The swell had increased and we spent a couple of hours out in head high surf. There weren't too many rights to speak of but the lefts were fantastic, and at this size, we got a real taste of how the break gets its name. The freight train lefts were irresistible but left us with a mammoth paddle back to the peak. I had a couple of waves that were the best I've ever had on my backhand, but (and please, if you like, factor in paternal bias) Harry surfed superbly throughout the session. He looked really smooth and fluent and I was stoked to see him surf so well.
Another grom looking good was Jack, the son of a surfer by the name of Moo whom I met last night. Moo is a larger than life Canadian who fell in love with surfing in Barbados and moved here, with his wife Sarah, eight years ago. Moo runs the top-rated Cafe Luna restaurant and was paddling out with Jack at Freights - their local break (how good is that?) - just as Harry and I came in. We watched from the grassy bank overlooking Freights as Jack worked a shortboard nicely on the perfect peeling lefts.
As I write this Matthew Hurst, the surfer from Stoke whom I've mentioned in the past couple of days, will be arriving home with his girlfriend Rachel. This is a man who was totally stoked by his experience here at Zed's Place - not least because as a goofy-footer, Freights was right up his street - and who might also be the UK's most dedicated surfer. As UK readers will know, Stoke is not exactly renowned for its surf. In fact, it's just about the most land-locked city in the UK. But Matthew regularly drives the minimum of two and a half hours to surf at east coast breaks around Scarborough, at Hell's Mouth in Wales or down to the Gower Peninsula. He first rode a board at my local break (not looking great today) seven years ago and hasn't looked back since. Matthew surfs well and if anyone is living proof of the fact that determination and keeping a weather eye on the swell charts can still give you the stoke from surfing, it's him. Respect.
The future is Freights - but it didn't seem that way at first light. Surfer's Point was blown out and the word was that the west coast swell had died. It struck me that the strong onshore wind would render the Soup Bowl, well, a foaming, frothing, soupy mess, and once there that's exactly how it looked. Remarkably, however, all of Russell Winter, Ben Baird and Ben Skinner didn't see much wrong with it - certainly nothing that the tide wouldn't fix later in the day. As ever, the gulf between what the pros will surf and what average Joes like me are happy to paddle out into was all too clear.
In the car with me was one of the UK's best surfing photographers, Kirstin Prisk. We followed Russ and the two Bens to Maycocks, which - to me - was perfect at around chest to shoulder high, and then to Duppies, which also looked very appetizing at a little overhead. The crew opted to surf Duppies but alas, I had no board. I watched with Kirstin - shooting this trip for a forthcoming issue of Carve - as Skindog styled on his longboard, Russell Winter cast beautiful fans of spray with just about every frontside off the top and Ben Baird showed that he's as powerful in the water as he looks on land.
It was great to see, and shooting the breeze with Kirstin was a pleasure (of our conversation, more in the near future). But watching endless right-handers breaking in a tropical paradise without a board was tough, so after a while I hit the road back to Surfer's Point, vowing to check a series of west coast spots en route and drive all the way back, with board, if there was even a hint of a wave.
Everywhere was flat but once back at Zed's Place I bumped into one of the British guys staying here, Matthew from Stoke. He was stoked from Stoke because he'd just returned, with a number of other surfers staying at Surfer's Point, from surfing nearby perfect Freights.
Harry and I made it there within half an hour and paddled out into chest high crystal-green perfection. The setting was breathtaking and the supply of easy, fun lefts and rights endless. We both had a series of great rides and know exactly what we'll be doing first thing tomorrow morning.
The Future is Freights.
With thanks to Vacation in Barbados for the image.
Reports of my demise have been exaggerated (I'm alive and in the bar).
The news in from Barbados is that outside it's blowing a hoolie and regrettably the west coast swell seems to be on the wane. However, this chart gives cause for hope.
Meanwhile, back in the UK Matt from Extreme Horizon drops me a line to say that the thumbs up has been given for today's Northcore East Coast Drift at Scarborough. Here's the note he sent:
The forecast is for a 6ft+ Northerly swell with offshore winds so event directors have given the green light for the Northcore East Coast Drift, which will see some of the region's best surfers competing in conditions which look really promising.
This year will be the first Northcore East Coast Drift surf event to host an Inter-Club competition between Tynemouth, Saltburn, Scarborough and Lincolnshire surf clubs. Northcore Europe Surf say “We're holding this year's event on the 23rd March at Scarborough's South Bay and we're really pleased to be getting involved by supporting the competition with a few prizes. Surfing in the North East of the UK is nowhere near as mainstream as it is in Devon and Cornwall, with the scene being much more at grass roots level with less corporate involvement. The conditions in the North East are harsher with colder water and air temperatures than most other surf spots in the UK and the overall infrastructure isn't as well developed. But the waves can be as good as anywhere in the South West and the year round surfers here are among the most dedicated and hardcore in the country.
All of which prompts me to undertake some rigorous analysis of a question posed by Andy Martin when Surf Nation came out last summer: given the choice between UK waves and sun-bathed surf warmed by sultry breezes, where would would the average surfer like to be? I'll answer this, on a personal level at least, at the end of my stay here in Barbados.
Meanwhile, the awesome (UK, I'd wager) barrel is courtesy of the good folk at Surf Twisted
I caught up with Russell Winter and the crew this morning. All were stoked from yesterday's session. It took its toll - Russ has (several) cuts and abrasions to prove it and Ben Skinner snapped his longboard. They're over on the west coast now - more from them later.
Meanwhile, ADR of The Surfer's Path sends me this image of the perfection on his doorstep wrought by the same swell that's currently lighting up the west coast of Barbados. If you click on the shot you'll see what looks like a world-class right-hander in anyone's book. It's been pretty similar here but sadly my camera has created pictures that are even smaller than ADR's. I'm hoping to source some others soon. By the way, for those who enjoyed Sam Bleakley's piece on Big Wednesday, you might also like to check out the latest issue of The Surfer's Path - it has an interview with John Milius.
As for the Wade clan, we're stoked to be here at Zed's Place. Harry and I paddled out two and a half hours ago - he's still in the water, on a shortboard. I'm back in the apartment, writing this and enjoying the sea view, as well as basking in the warm glow of Deep Heat in a place where it really shouldn't be. Despite this temporary discomfort and a painful night, the leg held up on a longboard this morning. At the moment, it's Leg Injuries 2, Determination to Surf 3.
I made it to the west coast of Barbados this afternoon and can confirm that It Was Going Off. I have a feeling that the swell was better in the morning than by the time I got there, but I saw a couple of reefs looking very good and some very serious stuff at the north end of the island. None of the crew from upstairs has returned yet and I didn't find them today, and sadly I'm without any images just yet. But check in again soon and hopefully there will be some words from above and some pictures.
Meanwhile, just to prove that there are certainties in life, I've picked up a groin strain. Yes, this was acquired in the simple act of going surfing and jumping to my feet. I write this with ice strapped to my inner thigh - a fine image, I'm sure you'll agree.
Another certainty is that longboard style master Sam Bleakley - a regular visitor to Zed's Place - knows as much, if not more, than anyone in the UK about surf culture and history. Here he writes a passionate, timely piece about perhaps the greatest surf movie ever (and solid film in its own right), Big Wednesday.
Big Wednesday celebrates its 30th birthday this year. You won't find it on the list of all time great movies (John Milius had already achieved that with his script for Apocalypse Now) - but it's a film for surfers, by surfers, not to mention a poignant cultural history and realistic character narrative. Through the Beat and Vietnam eras Big Wednesday ingeniously used the ever-changing seasons as a metaphor for the changes in life. Cornwall is the California of the UK, and while generations of surfers couldn't enjoy the climate or the point breaks, they could certainly cherish Big Wednesday's portrait of 1960s longboard cool. We've all dreamed of living out some angle of the core plot - the wild party scene to the tune of Ray Charles' "What'd I Say" and the tight friendship of Matt, Jack and Leroy. The Three Musketeers. Matt, the natural, embodies grace, but finds solace in the bottle. Jack is an achiever, a worker, cautious and competent, who willingly enlists for Vietnam. Leroy the Masochist is the "no brains, no headaches" hell-raiser, out for a good time. Put the three together and you have the ideal man.
Continue reading "From Bajan Beauty to Big Wednesday" »
A tricky balance, this parenting lark. Here I am at Zed's Place with two boys who definitely don't want to be surfing in the double-overhead perfection currently causing certain spots on the west coast of Barbados to be evacuated (according to local radio reports). Double-overhead at a place like Duppies or Tropicana would be a stretch for me, too, but I'm desperate to get over there and see what's going down. However, selfless parenting dictated that this morning the boys and I, together with Tyler (Zed's nephew), surfed at Surfer's Point. The waves were a little wind-blown but enjoyable nevertheless, and for the second day running I rode a longboard. I'd only ever ridden anything over 7'6" once in the UK but longboarding here has been a revelation. Great fun and definitely something to do again.
First thing this morning, Russell Winter, Ben Baird, Ben Skinner and Kirstin Prisk were gone, and now, Dad duties over, I'm heading over to see what they've scored on the west coast. Anecdotal evidence (as in, Zed's sister, Melinda, and everyone here) suggests that this really is an all-time swell for this neck of the woods. Better still, it's expected to wrap into Surfer's Point for the weekend.
Usually I'm the one asking the questions but the tables were turned when the dudes at Cooler got hold of me recently. Check out this link to see how this panned out and many thanks to Russ Pierre for the skate shot (Russ, the terms discussed the other day sound good to me!).
Here's the view from our apartment at Zed's Place. The weather is gorgeous and there was a surfable wave earlier this morning. It was my first surf for two months and it wasn't anything to write home about save for one major thing (for me, anyway): my quad tear did not rip itself open again.
That minor triumph of hope and physiotherapy (big thanks to Ben Donaldson of St Ives) over decrepitude and age aside, what's happening with the swell? Well, as the day has worn on it's gone pretty flat, even here at Surfer's Point - probably the most consistent spot on Barbados. This augurs well for what is is being talked about as potentially the best surf in a decade, with the near-shore energy around the island being sucked away as the swell approaches.
I'll be paddling out again with my boys for a late afternoon surf but meanwhile, the sense of expectation here is palpable. Over and out for now.
Here I am at Zed's Place in Barbados. Great to be back but I can't believe my luck - I've arrived just as the best swell of the season is set to land. As I write this it's around 9.00pm Barbados time and I'm going to hit the sack after a day of travel, but remarkably the apartment upstairs houses not one, not two, but three of the UK's best surfers. I bumped into Ben Skinner as we arrived, who told me that he was waiting for Russ Winter and Ben Baird to arrive on the island. All have hot-footed it here at short notice with Kirstin Prisk for a Carve photo-shoot.
I seriously doubt that I'll be paddling out at somewhere like Duppies at 15ft when it's going off tomorrow. Even without tomorrow's surf being my first post-quad tear, 15ft is a tad excessive. My sons and I will content ourselves with Surfer's Point working better than normal - and we'll be stoked to watch the action as if unfolds over the next day or two. More soon.
En route to Gatwick, I've stopped at my parents' place near Budleigh Salterton in South-East Devon. I grew up in Budleigh, and though it is an undeniably pretty seaside town, it's fair to say that, in my day, it wasn't renowned for its affiliation with youth culture.
Now, however, it boasts a skate park. It's in Lyme Kiln Car Park, near the beach and the River Otter. Harry and I skated it yesterday (gently in my case, lest the leg implodes pre-Barbados), and while there I got talking to Martyn Perry, the owner of a skate shop in Hereford. Martyn and I, in effect, grew up at the same time in the Exmouth and Budleigh area but never met; now here we were, talking skating in Budleigh. Martyn, I can't find the name of your skate shop but by all means post a link up here. Good luck with it and the plans for a skate park in Hereford. Picture courtesy of Romance South West.
Loyal readers, I am off, with various Wades, to Barbados. We're staying at one of Zed Layson's apartments at Surfer's Point. I haven't surfed for about six weeks now thanks to my quad tear, and it's touch and go whether the leg is going to be up to it once there. But it'll be great to back in Barbados, at the place which (strange but true) gave me the idea for Surf Nation.
I'll be blogging when there - wireless broadband permitting. If you don't hear from me for a couple of weeks, wireless broadband decided to be unpermitting. Happy surfing meanwhile.
There are some good shots of this week's storm on the Surfer's Village site - but where's this 'Portcall' place in Wales? (Photo courtesy of Reuters.)
I posted the other day about my six month quest to elicit a response from the London Blackfriars branch of the Royal Bank of Scotland. I made a complaint to the bank back in September and, with what I now see was the naive innocence of the impoverished, hoped that by, say, November the matter would have been wrapped up. As my post of this time last week recounts, I was severely deluded - six months have gone by, yielding precisely nada of substance.
Because I'm an optimist, I rang the bank again this week. What I heard first was typical: "The manager is away on holiday this week." Great, another reason for delay. But her assistant asked about the matter, listened sympathetically to my woes, and then said: "I will speak to the manager when she is back next Monday. And I promise I will call you then."
Could it be that the RBS is going to redeem itself and become The Bank That Likes To Deal With Customer Complaints? Eventually?
First it was Coconut Girl, then it was the gay skaters. Sometimes it's impossible to know which way to turn. Watching this doesn't make it any easier. Imagine how persecuted a lesbian, half-Indian skater must feel. Shocking.
But then I find an invitation to drop in. Normally, this is something I would never do. But once in a while?
I picked up an email from Gabe Davies this morning telling me of this footage, which shows that Monday's insane swell ran riot in the Basque country, too. But Gabe also noted that "today, the wind has died and the sun is out - which means it's time to get the wetties out and the big boards on the car." If you see this, Gabe, let us know how today's session went. Here in the far west of England, the wind has relented a little - but the sea remains a mess. (By the way, thanks to Gabe also for this link - looks like Guethary harbour took a battering...)
Poor Eliot Spitzer. One minute he's the Governor of New York, the next he's not. And why not? Because of his predilection for high-class vice girls. Spitzer's case raises a seemingly archetypal imponderable - why mess up so successful a life over sex? Even at $5,000 an hour, how good can it be? I mean, what happens in sex that costs that much? And while I'm on this thorny topic, is there a gradation system among "vice girls" by which some get to be "high-class" while others are left forever to toil amid the middle and lower orders? Did Kristen, the lady of the night most immediately associated with Spitzer's undoing, attend a special school for those aiming for high-class vice? A finishing school for sex workers where they learn a top secret formula for deluxe sex that only the likes of Eliot Spitzer can afford? (Photo courtesy of China News).
Or does the notion of the "high-class vice girl" enable a curious acceptance of Spitzer's activities? After all, he was only consorting with "high-class vice girls", as if any other kind would be totally beyond the pail. Naturally, one might say, for he was a high-class lawyer.
Anyway, poor Eliot Spitzer. There will be those who will condemn, those who will declaim, and those who say "there but for the grace of God..." but as for me, I can't help but think that if only he'd found himself in a conventional red light district, like this one, he might have escaped temptation by the relatively inexpensive adrenaline rush of hopping on a wakeboard...
He would then no doubt have seen the light and made a graduation of his own, to wakesurfing in Argentina...
Which would have saved him a lot of grief.
My brother Chris alerts me to this footage of how Polzeath fared during Monday's storm...
Well, it's a rare day when three things happen that are noteworthy. Here they are:
1. The latest issue of Pit Pilot has just hit the shelves. I think this is new editor Greg Martin's second issue and again he's done a fine job. Perhaps the best piece is the one written by me about John Adams, the prose of which coruscates even in the dimmest recesses of the vault underneath my house, somewhere to which I take myself on a regular basis out of a deep inner compulsion and because I like nothing better than to (Enough. Ed.) The ed is right, as always; my piece on the first man to surf Porthleven (reproduced by kind permission of Pit Pilot below) is just a small cog in a memorable magazine. My vault is irrelevant. The mag is is full of top shots of breaks near you, has a great cover image by Mike Newman (whose shot of Sennen Cove - see yesterday's post - still strikes me as one of the best photographs I've ever seen) and even features Al Mackinnon talking about his dual need to downsize and upsize.
2. But I'm not done talking about surf mags - far from it. Sharpy recently took the helm at Irish surf mag Fins (Qu. for Sharpy - is there a website? I can't find one) and the first issue under the new regime also came out today. Now I have to admit that my attention deficit disorder got the better of me and, unable to refrain from writing, I found myself penning something for Fins as well. I haven't seen the mag yet but I am stoked to have found a home for my piece on Big Saturday, i.e., for those living in a vault, 1 December 2007 when Messrs Mennie, Scott, Davies and Fitzgerald redefined the parameters of what's possible in contemporary European cold-water surfing. The Irish scene is buzzing so much right now that Fins has got to be well worth checking out.
3. Never let it be said that I lose my sense of perspective down in my vault, a place I visit quite often because I love nothing better than to (I've told you - stop. Ed.). Orca Publications has just launched The Surf Directory, billed as "the definitive online guide to the beaches of the UK & Ireland." Now even though I've heard, down in the vault (a place I stopped visiting five minutes ago), that Orca's similarly definitive impending publication - Roger Mansfield's history of British surfing, The Surfing Tribe - doesn't make any mention of my humble efforts to chronicle our surf scene in Surf Nation, I've recovered from my sense of hurt and rejection and, leaving my anguish where it belongs (in the vault), will happily recommend that you check out The Surf Directory. The site looks slick and informative and has some nice cross-cultural stuff.
The something else? The dudes at Limited Fun appraise me of this top accessory. What? You mean you don't see the need for an 'Aloha Style Surfdrive Flash Drive'? Madness. Read on to see what John Adams has to say.
Continue reading "Three New Things in UK and Irish Surfing (and something else)" »
Mike 'Tup' Newman was working yesterday at Sennen Cove. This beautiful image was one of the fruits of his labour.
 Yesterday's snippet of gay skateboarding produced more than a few emails to me personally (though none, strangely, from Punk Junk). One particular message was both humble and ever so slightly anguished. It read as follows:
Alex, I know what you're doing with that vid of the gay guys and I also saw your 'discrimination at large' post. Can't argue with the point you're making. But is seeing men kissing really necessary? I also respect the point you've made in the past about women in surfing and I agree with that too. But without wanting to sound just as bad as the dinosaurs, what's wrong with an attractive woman surfing? Is it so bad? Maybe you could find one or two pictures and put them up. Wouldn't that be fair? No nudity, just something to cheer me up. I don't know. Maybe you're right. Keep up the good work. 
The sender of this message has agreed to its republication, on condition of anonymity, here. And for that, Bill (not his real name), here are a couple of images to cheer you up.
Here's a shot from Tony Plant of SurfTwisted of some carnage on Mad Dog Hill. The trailer was blown over yesterday, proving that yes, it's quite stormy here just now.
The sea images come from the good folk at the Sennen Cove website. 
As they say on the site, yesterday's sea was the biggest in living memory to hit the harbour. I went for a couple of walks to check it out, first at Porthcurno, then at the Cove and then over to a secret spot. Everywhere the swell was astonishing to behold, but at the secret spot I'd say the wave faces were comfortably in excess of 60ft. It wasn't safe to be anywhere close to the paddle out jump off point and even 50ft inland the sea spray soaked myself and Rio, my loyal hound. I've no idea what she made of it but for me it was awesome. Yes, an over-used epithet (where have I encountered that phrase before?) but, for once, wholly apposite.
The PC zeitgeist of not being discriminatory has left us with a world in which it is now fashionable to be discriminatory, so long as the discrimination is just a joke. However, there are a few groups of people about whom, in my view, one should be discriminatory. Here they are:
1. Apologists for discrimination.
2. People who discriminate, but do it as a joke.
3. Jocular discriminators.
4. Blind discriminators.
5. White discriminators.
6. Discriminators who come from public schools.
7. Non-discriminators who make a discriminatory virtue of their non-discrimination.
8. Gay non-discriminators.
9. Discriminatory heterosexuals.
10. Disinterestedly discriminatory lesbians.
11. Comedians.
12. Conservatives.
13. NIMBYs (do I know any? I couldn't possibly comment).
14. YUPPIEs (do they still exist? Not where I live).
15. Those who discriminate against the use of acronyms.
16. Those who discriminate against those who don't know what the word antediluvian means.
17. Antediluvian discriminators (the worst kind).
18. Apocalyptic discriminators.
19. Unjazzed discriminators.
20. Porno discriminators (What? Ed.)
21. DISCRIMs
22. Racist discriminators.
23. People who say that skateboarding is not for adults.
24. People who say that surfing is stupid.
25. Apologists for discrimination (You've said that already. Ed. I know. Then why say it again? Ed. I was hoping to engage in a parenthetical dialogue, as in that Portuguese bloke's fiction. Who he? Ed. Jose Saramago, the Nobel prize winner. Sounds like a made up name to me. Ed. No, he's real, though now old. Don't be ageist. Ed. I'm not being ageist, if anything I said that because I would be very sad when he goes, as, like all of us, he surely must. You are right, all of us will one day meet our maker. Ed. I'm not sure that's strictly true. Why not? Ed. Your use of that cliche presupposes its validity, i.e. you imply that we have 'a maker' beyond our mere parents. Are you saying there is no God? Ed. I don't know. Good. We must not offend, and talking of offence, this paragraph is not easy to read. Ed. I know, it's a minor homage to Saramago. Often in his prose you have to reread sentence after sentence before you know who's said what. Is that right? How on earth did he win the Nobel? Ed. It's all clear when you read him. Talking of books, what happened to that that American bloke, Antoine Wilson? Ed. So far as I am aware, he is well and living in California. I have just finished his first novel, The Interloper. And? Ed. It's excellent. Any discrimination? Ed. None that I could see. Will you post something about it? Ed. Certainly. Good. Goodnight. Ed. Goodnight.)
Punk Jock is a recent poster to this site whose last comment was not very enlightened. Prior to its brief appearance (sorry, the lawyers got to it), Punk Jock made a call to arms, saying that skating "must not sell out like all the other fag sports." Now then, Mr Jock, if you could cast aside your homophobia for just a minute, I know you're going to love this video. All those power tools have got to be good! Haven't they? I guess you never know...
As can sometimes be the way, the Big Fight was something of an anti-climax, with David Haye dispatching Enzo Maccarinelli within one and a half rounds. Maccarinelli looked out of sorts from the off, while Haye looked up for the fight and in command. In fact, he looked terrifying. Maccarinelli can hit hard - and he did land one clubbing left hook - but the thud of the Hayemaker's punches will linger long in the memory. He tagged the Swansea man with several good shots, putting his central nervous system well and truly out of kilter for a few agonising moments midway through the second round. The referee had no choice but to stop the fight. Even if Maccarinelli had done what some of the ringside sages suggested - drop to one knee once he knew his legs had gone, take a breath or two and rally - I fear that, on the night, he was no match for Haye. To read more about the fight and boxing generally, see Times boxing writer Ron Lewis's blog at The Boxing Blog.
I also fear that London's transport infrastructure has no hope of coping with the Olympics. The clash of the cruiserweights was at the O2 Arena, in Docklands - hardly a thoroughfare or hotspot packed with nightclubs and other attractions. But afterwards, at 2.30am, there was total gridlock for miles. It took me over two hours to get back to where I was staying in Clapham. If that's what it's like for a boxing event attended by 20,000 people, what on earth will the city as a whole be like for the Olympics?
But that's enough about boxing and other sports. Back to the one that we all hold dear - surfing. I returned home to find the North Coast a heaving mess from Watergate Bay to Sennen Cove, while the South Coast looked flat. In truth, I didn't investigate too much because my dodgy leg means that it's irrelevant whether the surf is good, bad, indifferent or epic - I'm confined to dry land. However, a curio awaited me. Thad of Limited Fun tells me of the advent of the collapsible surfboard. What can this be? Why, check out this link to find out.
Tonight it'll be more training at St Just ABC and then the continuation of work on what no one at all has waiting for - my guide to skating the hills of West Penwith. Two new hills have been christened - 'The Greeb' and 'MTs'. MTs was out of action for a few months for roadworks but I skated it this afternoon and it's a peach. Look out for the guide - it's coming soon. Trust me, it'll be as indispensable as a collapsible surfboard...
Usually I feel depressed when I have to leave Cornwall for London, but not today. By a miracle that I still can't quite fathom, I have a ticket pretty close to ringside for tonight's world title clash of the cruiserweights at the O2 Centre. The showdown between Enzo Maccarinelli and David Haye - two of the biggest punchers in the business - promises to be electrifying.
At the same time, though, I leave mindful of boxing's capacity to disturb. On Thursday night Harry and I trained, as usual, at St Just Amateur Boxing Club. Harry has been desperate to spar for ages and duly got his wish. He's a strong, fit boy, much bigger than the average 12-year-old, and did well against a boy older, bigger and better than him. But he got tagged a few times, and in that instant, I saw my streetwise, 110% confident son betray the vulnerability he had as a toddler. Seeing this didn't make me think 'good for him - character-forming stuff!' (though that will be the effect) but it did make me wonder about boxing as a sport. I revisited one or two doubts, explored in Wrecking Machine, about something predicated on the intentional infliction of harm of another person.
But then I trained again at St Just ABC today, and felt OK. And I can't wait for the big fight tonight. Aloha.
I'm starting to envy Simon Jayham's lifestyle. One minute he's in Hawaii, the next Madeira. Everywhere he goes he seems to score perfect waves. Here are some pictures from his latest trip to Madeira - to see more, check out this page on Flickr. Simon says the trip was awesome, save for how much he missed The Gill, who couldn't make it owing to a passport-related complexity.
Meanwhile, here in the wild west I can report the discovery of another hill for carving. It's known as 'The Greeb,' and joins Mad Dog and Hippies as A Place To Go When Your Leg Is Still Too Knackered To Get In The Water.
Alf, how on earth did you cope with seven months of being dry?
I've been a Royal Bank of Scotland customer for many years. They're not my main bank, but they very kindly gave my wife and I a 100% mortgage about 15 years ago which enabled us to buy our first house. For that reason, I've long held fond thoughts about the good old, helpful RBS.
Not any more.
Six months ago, in a rare investigation of my finances, I realised that I was an RBS 'Royalties Gold' customer. For this privilege, which I do not recall ever requesting, I had been paying £12.00 per month for about five years. Being a Royalties Gold customer gave me all kinds of wonderful things but none that were any different from the benefits I receive from my main bank. So I wrote to the RBS, asking that I be made an ordinary customer. I also asked them to explain why I'd been made a Royalties Gold one in the first place, and suggested that they might like to refund me the £12.00 per month I'd been paying for five years.
That letter was written on 21 September 2007.
I received a fairly prompt reply from my branch - London Blackfriars - with the usual stuff about how my complaint was very important to them and that they'd look into it immediately.
Nearly six months later, I've written a further three letters and made enough phone calls to the bank to have lost count of them. I've received not one letter dealing with my complaint. Each time I speak with someone, I'm assured that the manager will call me back. The manager has called me back - twice, in all this time. Each time she has left messages on my mobile. On one of those occasions I was in a meeting. On the other, I was at home here in Cornwall, where my mobile doesn't work.
I've asked the manager's colleagues to ask her to ring me on my land line. I've asked, on numerous occasions, that she write to me. These two things appear to be impossible.
My complaint is of no import in the wider scheme of things. The RBS at London Blackfriars doubtless has clients moving hundreds of thousands of pounds around the world; perhaps they even still give people 100% mortgages (though I doubt it). All the other customers are no doubt much more important than me. But I'm a customer, too. I have a complaint and courtesy suggests that it might be nice if someone dealt with it.
Why is this so difficult? And are there any other companies out there with a worse customer complaints policy?
There's a great show of street art currently at the Belgrave St Ives. Street - or urban, or maybe even graffiti art - is big business right now, mainly thanks to Banksy, who, as I've conjectured previously, might have been one of the Bristol skate crew from a decade or so ago (as with everything about him, his agent isn't saying).
At the Belgrave, many of Banksy's peers are on display in what is Cornwall's first exhibition of street art. Work by the likes of Blek le Rat, Faile, D'Face (whose Pop Tart is shown opposite) and Cyclops, among others, can be seen. Theirs is a witty, wry and challenging genre, and it's great to see this sort of thing in St Ives.
I recently pondered St Ives' status in the art world for a column in Cornwall Today, of which I'm the Arts Editor. The column can be read below, but meantime, check out this piece of found graffiti. It's by J D Anon (Who he? Ed.) and I rather like it. I was also impressed to learn that Michael, the manager of the Belgrave (who does, I suspect, know who J D Anon is), has been known to ride a skateboard. If you're out there, Michael, those boards I was raving about are courtesy of Original Skateboards. Congratulations on a great show.
Continue reading "Art, St Ives, Surfing and Skating" »
Cassandra Murnieks has news of what must surely be one of Kelly Slater's sweetest victories. He's just taken the honours at the Quiksilver Pro at Snapper Rocks on the Gold Coast, vanquishing reigning World Champion Mick Fanning in his backy |
One of Europe’s top pro surfers has been appointed Patron to the British Surfing Museum.
Gabe has been surfing since the age of 11, when he took to the waves at his home beach of Tynemouth in North East England. He now divides his time between the UK and South West France where he lives with his wife – the best selling fiction author Lauren Davies.
