Cathartic gesticulations probe and spur
Hyena-like cackles echo and meld
Blissfully blasphemous miasma of murk
Cacophonous diatribes saunter and lurk
Prehensile minions of death’s final hour
Grimace grotesquely as most shrink and cower
No white knights on this day, no none to be seen
Just blood-splattered highwaymen bleak and serene
Vacuous entrails fill quagmires of goo
Gelatinous membranes hold dark bubbling stew
Beelzebub rumbles and cracks his great whip
No rest for the wicked, just watch the sky slip
But in one calm meadow lived a prosperous bug
A bug who might slug any mug who he dug
This bug was a bee who made honey in a tree
Not any honey but the sweet nectar of love.
When the minions of death marched from lairs deep within
The bee twinkled merrily up in its tree
Soon the fanged hordes were upon it, thrashing and trashing
But the bee hummed whimsically, happy and free
Great Satan himself said, “Bee, now you must die!”
But the bee squirted honey all over the bunch
Then came rabbits and squirrels, crickets and coons
To lick the demon-spawn clean of their stickiness
When the evil dark-lords felt the friendly wet tongues
They laughed and guffawed and tickled and sung
Never before had they tasted the nectar of love
Wet slurps of affection, warm licks of elation.
Sean Brady photo of Jersey a few days ago
Barrelled (photos from surfermag.com)
Expectations low. Tiny conditions predicted. Roadtrip to the coast with my sis. IPOD pumping. Jersey circles in effect. Deciduous trees' autumnal hues. Detour around Trenton. Get a call from Kus that conditions are looking up. Hurry up to catch the tide. Julie and I zoom down 195, northern fringe of the Pine Barens. Jersey Devil footprints. Past Belmar, around the ‘Squan and into Point Pleasant. Blue-haired old ladies gossip at the coffee shop. Out to Kus’ secret stash. His boy Rich has a stellar pad right on the beach at the end of a private culdesac. Nobody around. First glimpse at the moody Atlantic and it’s serenely smooth with 2-3ft peelers breaking close to shore. Light offshore wind. Suit up and paddle out. Closeout barrels in two-feet of water. No leash. Silky texture. Hooting Kus and Rich into waves. Chilly water. Gorgeous, chalky-sand beach. Prehistoric Sea-Horses. No vibes. No people. Sis snaps some photos. I wipe-out into dry sand, cut my hand. Kus pumps down the line. After 2 hours teeth are chattering and hands are numb. Shower, change then hit the CLASSIC Jersey pizza joint for out-of-this-world homemade mozzarella and broccoli rabe. Then the scrumptious large cheese pizza. 6 slices later I’m ready for a serious nap. We might have burritos here, but Jersey has the Pizza!!
Surf here today and yesterday. Waves and good wind. Getting smaller now. Backing off this morning but still some opportunities.
Emily's friend Paul took these photos in Africa
My friend Dan sent this from south america. That's him taking off.
8west sent a few photos.
Gavin B. at Sunset (photo by Cameron Nelson)
I know that yesterday I promised not to get publicly psyched about conditions anymore. But since the lineup was completely empty this morning at a random beach somewhere in California I’ll let out a little woot woot and just linguistically bask in the afterglow of the high-performance succulence on offer. Bigger and burlier than yesterday. Angry, spitting turbo barrels. My all-time favorite conditions. Not huge.. but barrelling and rifling on inside bars. Ledging, suckout drops. Waves that fucking whip your ass down the line like you’re being hurled out the end of a jai-alai cesta at mach googleplex. FAST!!! Adrenaline drops. I managed a few rides and a few drops that are instilling me with this feeling of comforted relaxation and uplifting after-the-fact-excitement. Just a warmth and exhilaration in the pit of my stomach. One ride right in front of Lerm I kind-of faded deep into the building wall on my takeoff and then pounced smoothly to my feet with balance (something that doesn't happen all the time!). I got slingshot down the face and then came off the bottom with so much speed that my eyeballs were sucked back against my brain and my cheeks were all flapping in the wind. I pumped and set up my line for a few moments and then rode up to the lip and moderately clicked off the top… no time for laying a rail because this wave was not waiting for that type-of shit.. i re-entered and then just started pumping like a rabid hyena and then flew up to the lip again and kinda chinked a nice divot off the chunky thing… then an air-droppy re-entry and more down-the line speed channeling.. Going so fast. Damn! Seriously one of my best rides of all time. Fucking fast as all hell. Not that I surfed it that great.. just that the wave expressed such concentrated power and force. To spend a few seconds in the pocket of all that significance, just to stand there and be moved along by that serendipitous conglomeration of natural occurrences felt amazing. Blah!! Then later in the sesh the waves were really walling up and bigger sets were coming through.. Some reaching overhead++. I had my mojo working for once and I dropped a few bombs (for me!) that will stick in my mind all week as I chill in Philly, far away from the wonderful Pacific Ocean. To balance all this claiming out let it also be known that i got farking crunched 3 times trying to take-off deep into barrelling/maybe-closeout waves. One wipeout the lip came down on my head and i got pummelled chin first into my board. Butt.. on one of the good ones I just remember stroking in and seeing the large wall divot out from underneath, scooping and hollowing, gulping and pitching. Looking down the line into what is *almost* a closeout section.. but lining up just enough to allow the crafty surfer to maniacally sprint toward freedom. I just threw myself over the ledge, hugged tight along the wall, and accelerated down and to the right, staying low and riding my inside edge. Not even pumping but just riding the raw natural force of the wave. No need for pumping. I remember the view of the overhead, mega-glassy wall encompass the entire right side of my field of vision. Just a vertical wall of liquid beauty. That feeling of acceleration and drive. No sound. No memory. Only nowness. All senses fully attuned to the current moment. Rushing and reacting. Flying from danger while self-expressing down the line. I love it. surfing friggin rules!
macho man randy savage!!
in all fairness today was not a day for beginners at OB. When you see barrels happening and you're not confident in your abilities... head south to Lindy or north to Bolinas.
have a great week all you heads! give thanks for what you have! enjoy yourselves.
jai-alai dude with cesta
My body was hoping for a break after 13 consecutive surf days.. but.. nope. Lerm and I were forced to drive from our usual stomping grounds but we found the gold at the end of the proverbial rainbow, or some such platitude. Let me see..
Offshore winds? Check.
Textbook barreling A-frames? Check.
Shoulder-burning consistency? Check.
Not too crowded? Check.
Wild, stormy, energetic sky? Check.
Crisp, reeling, sculpted lips? Check.
Playful, ethereal, offshore-whipped barrels? Check.
Giant new raw swell? Nope.
8 billion surfers along a certain stretch of beach? Check.
Mellow, head-high waves, not too big? Check.
Another 2 hour pre-work jimmy jam today during what has to be the best November in my 5-year Nor Cal surf career. Stoked. Sore. Disbelieving. I watched many surfers pull into classic, dramatic, wind-whipped barrels this morning. Didn’t see many exits. The offshores blew with force and created that gorgeous, smoothed, scalloped look to the sea surface. The SF buoy is at 7ft 14 seconds but it doesn’t feel nearly that large. I’d guess more like 5ft 12seconds. Maybe the swell is really north and getting partially blocked by pt reyes? Dunno.. but.. damn dudes.. it’s farkin’ going good right now. It felt like Hawaii when we first paddled out.. the offshores blowing huge spindrifts off the backs of waves. Big, long groundswell lines coming in and peeking here or closing out there. SURF!
Might be my last day until next Sunday.. I’m headed to philly for thanksgiving. Hopefully it’ll get huge for you heads. I’ll be surfing in jersey and hopefully will update the site..
i kinda dislike these super closeups.. but.. it's curren
sunset from last year
NOVEMBER!!!! Farking RAWKS!! This morning completely ruled! Again with the head-high, offshore-groomed, copiously consistent, high-performance, mellow like jellelow dream waves. Pretty crowded up and down the beach but tons of rides to go around. Sea-surface absolutely utter oily plate glass. Crystalline. Super mega uber hella glassiest glassy glass. Feathering, playful lips. Non-punishing, oval, inviting barrels (not that I got any). People ripping the snot out of the place. Roundhouses, huge gaffs, deep pits, giant floaters (Lerm), speed carves, funky wipeouts (E), stylish down-the-line pumping on self-shaped boards (Elias), outer bar beauties ridden by patient loggers, hoots, smiles, inside racers. Wave after wave after wave etc. I probably caught 40 rides during the 2 hour session. Just unreal out there. This week has been all-time, imho. For those that like it playful/glassy/offshore/head-high/consistent/uncrowded.. this week reigns surpreme.. Shit.. can you tell I’m amped!! Fuck! Surfing is soo fun. Seeing a rising, overhead, plate-glass peak rise up for you.. stroke in and angle down the line.. take off quick and light and begin micro-pumping and building speed.. turn up the face and bash off the lip… back down to the bottom and more pumping.. reacting to the shape of the wave.. dancing with nature’s primal expression… build speed as the wave steepens up.. ride up high and float over the lip as it closes out.. ride the whitewater and free-fall down into the flats.. paddle back out for more.. see your friend take off on a steepy.. wobble the beginning of the take-off and then catch his balance, turn off the bottom and whack the lip.. so nice!
According to the ‘Stah, today might be the end of the playful, mellow niceness..
A few "organic" photos submitted over the last few weeks
DMC photos from an island in the Atlantic
Greg's photos from Bali
Jeremy from Scott's Valley snaps one of Jocular's fave wave
Walker shot some beauties of a local spot
Korewin's friend shot this one in Durban (are those lights for a dragstrip or something?)
Nate seems prepared for a surf segue into lounge with this east coast photo
bigger than yesterday.
Largest waves a few feet overhead.
Already a bit mushy during the dawnie so the mid-day full-tide might be bad?
Lerm surfed good.
I scored a few long, roping walls. Kooked on one.
Made a late-drop into a glassy, powerful wave. Had balance and carved a long, speedy turn into the meat. Felt good.
People ripping out there. Humbled me fast.
One of the top 5 days of the season.
Late for work.
Now i have a meeting.
More to say but no time.
Vice magazine is awesome.
Pretty unreal out there this morning. Nothing huge or intimidating, just a heaping portion of rippable, picturesque, chiseled dream waves. Maybe a bit on the small and inconsistent side. I surfed for an hour with Lerm and we had a good time. Too bad my body and brain were relatively pureed from 3 days of non-stop surfing, driving, camping and merrymaking. Here’s a highlight reel from the central coast trip:
- Thursday night last jam on the electric guitar, get gear ready, psyche-up.
- Friday morning get picked up at 6. Check OB.. almost surf there but start the mission south. Robme, Silus (Robme’s 5yr old son) and I in one car, MWSF and Lerminade in the other.
- The coast is super-mega flat all the way down.
- Get to Wadell and it’s peaky and fun. Waist high. Warm sunny California day with offshore wind. We’re out there. I nab a nice little narrel on the backside. Silus gets in his mini-wetty and life-vest and gets some rides. We’re all stoked. Get out of the water after 2 hours and the wind immediately shifts and starts blowing onshore! The gods are shining on us so far.
- Slices at Pleasure Pizza
- See Santa Claus in a van near Moss Landing
- Decide to drive through Big Sur
- Try to scare Silus with ghost stories.
- Ridiculously beautiful and grandiose Big Sur!
- Wind ripping the water into white-caps, think there’s no way we’ll get an afternoon session.
- Find a campground immediately across the street from an otherwordly surf-beach (huge cliffs, mountain backdrop, surreal sea-stacks, clear water, fresh aromas, etc).
- Set up camp around 3:15, suit-up and run across the street for a surf check.
- Robme is all psyched to surf until he realizes that his wetty is still on the rocks at Waddell, exactly where he left it 3 hours before. D’oh!
- Deliberation about what to do (drive 2 hours right now to buy another suit for Robme?).. Decide to stay and wait till morning. Lerm, MWSF and I go for a stony surf and enjoy fun, arvo-glass-off, uncrowded, punchy Big Sur beachbreak succulence. Immaculate, multi-hued sunset. Coyote howls.
- That night we tell ghost stories, jam on guitars, drink beers, nug, crash.
- Next morning radiant sunshine and uplifting, enchanting Big Sur beauty. Local beachie not working. Spots south not working.. nothing really working. Drive down to Cayucos. Get Robme a wettie. Tiny glassy waves. Silos and Robme get a little surf in. 2pm we think the swell will arrive. 3pm still no swell. 3:30 still no swell.. We drive back north.. thinking maybe an end-of-day session at our big sur beachie..
- Signs of new swell at 3:45 on the way back!
- Suit up and run down at 4:10. Swell is macking!!!
- No way we can paddle out. Get absolutely rejected.
- Awesome session on the inside reforms. Snag one of the gnarlier waves I’ve surfed in a while. Doubling-up, wedging, dredging, backless, glassy race-track. Sprint down the line going mach 18. Fuck yeah! Crazy session. Return to camp exhilarated.
- Sound of the swell exploding and thundering through our campground. LOUD!! Rest of the camp-party has arrived. Huge meal laid out by Robme’s wife. Robme birthday celebration. Guitars, songs, stories, scary-stories, whiskey, hashish, beers, soup, cake, fire, marshmallows, swell booming in the background. Stars overhead. Persius. Orion. Milky Way. Bed.
- Pack up and roll. Drive down the coast. Breath-taking glassiness mixed with powerful NW groundswell corduroy. Magic stretch of coast. People surfing nutty, psycho cen-cal mysto points and reefs. Exploratory adventure-surf charging! Much respect! Crazy waves!!! 3 or 4 day-a-year-type-waves. We pass. Pass on some more spots with big crowds or not-quite-working setups.. Eventually end up at Studio Drive and it looks amazing.. speed-change into wetties just as the wind turns onshore.. Crappy 45-minute session of poundings and ok rides. We feel skunked. Decide to drive north in our wetties.. Check out a reef we saw. Get there and it’s glassy and idyllic. Last of the surfers getting out of the water.
- Robme, Lerm and I proceed to surf gorgeous, glassy California reef-break sweetness for 2 hours by ourselves on a Sunday afternoon during a major swell with no-one else around!! Magic! We hoot each-other and take-turns and have a blast and basically look at each-other in disbelief at our good fortune. Amazing end to a stellar weekend. Still warming my heart and mind as i write this.
- Get pizza
- drive home.
any stories from the swell up here? OB? Mavs? Jetty? Mysto-spots?
triple crown photos
Yo, what up heads... I just checked E's site and remembered that he is gonzo today on a little surfy-surf down south. Sooooo, not much content out of me but I thought I would throw in an update so the message board could be wiped clean for the blog posse.
As for today, I didn't check it. Yeah, yeah, keep your comments to yourself. But, from all my "raw data" it looked surfable out there. Winds were looking lite to offshore this morning so it might be pretty smooth out there on the surface but I imagine there is a bit of bump as well.
- Voicemail says it is pretty fun out there. Watch out for the higher tide thru the day
Ok, so there you have it. Get out there if you can and enjoy some sunshine post rainy days.
Not much on tap at local beaches this morn. 6ft 8am high tide had things lookin’ pretty mushy and piddly when I walked down for a check. Shoulder/head-high waves pushed in and had potential but ended up wobbling or funking-out instead of peeling. The rain poured down through the night so expect some runoff and pollution. A good day to lock-into whatever work you’ve been putting off for the last week.
Check out this Shel Silverstein poem, “The Smoke Off”
In the laid back California town of sunny San Rafael
Lived a girl named Pearly Sweetcake, you prob’ly knew her well.
She’d been stoned fifteen of her eighteen years and the story was widely told
That she could smoke 'em faster than anyone could roll.
Her legend finally reached New York, that Grove Street walk-up flat
Where dwelt The Calistoga Kid, a beatnik from the past
With long browned lightnin’ fingers he takes a cultured toke
And says, “Hell, I can roll ‘em faster, Jim, than any chick can smoke!”
So a note gets sent to San Rafael, “For the Championship of the World
The Kid demands a smoke off!” "Well, bring him on!" says Pearl,
"I'll grind his fingers off his hands, he'll roll until he drops!"
Says Calistog, "I'll smoke that twist till she blows up and pops!”
So they rent out Yankee Stadium and the word is quickly spread
"Come one, come all, who walk or crawl, price – just two lids a head
And from every town and hamlet, over land and sea they speed
The world's greatest dopers, with the Worlds greatest weed
Hashishers from Morocco, hemp smokers from Peru
And the Shamnicks from Bagun who puff the deadly Pugaroo
And those who call it Light of Life and those that call it boo.
See the dealers and their ladies wearing turquoise, lace, and leather
See the narcos and the closet smokers puffin’ all together
From the teenies who smoke legal to the ones who've done some time
To the old man who smoked “reefer” back before it was a crime
And the grand old house that Ruth built is filled with the smoke and cries
Of fifty thousand screaming heads all stoned out of their minds.
And they play the national anthem and the crowd lets out a roar
As the spotlight hits The Kid and Pearl, ready for their smokin' war
At a table piled up high with grass, as high as a mountain peak
Just tops and buds of the rarest flowers, not one stem, branch or seed.
Maui Wowie, Panama Red and Acapulco Gold.
Kif from East Afghanistan and rare Alaskan Cold.
Sticks from Thailand, Ganja from the Islands, and Bangkok's Bloomin' Best.
And some of that wet imported shit that capsized off Key West.
Oaxacan tops and Kenya Bhang and Riviera Fleurs.
And that rare Manhatten Silver that grows down in the New York sewers.
And there's bubblin’ ice cold lemonade and sweet grapes by the bunches.
And there's Hershey’s bars, and Oreos, ‘case anybody gets the munchies.
And the Calistoga Kid, he sneers, and Pearly, she just grins.
And the drums roll low and the crowd yells “GO!” and the world’s first Smoke Off begins.
Kid flicks his magic fingers once and ZAP! that first joint’s rolled.
Pearl takes one drag with her mighty lungs and WOOSH! that roach is cold.
Then The Kid he rolls his Super Bomb that’d paralyze a moose.
And Pearley takes one super hit and SLURP! that bomb’ defused.
Then he rolls three in just ten seconds and she smokes 'em up in nine,
And everybody sits back and says, "This just might take some time."
See the blur of flyin’ fingers, see the red coal burnin’ bright
As the night turns into mornin’ and the mornin’ fades to night
And the autumn turns to summer and a whole damn year is gone
But the two still sit on that roach-filled stage, smokin' and rollin' on
With tremblin’ hands he rolls his jays with fingers blue and stiff
She coughs and stares with bloodshot gaze, and puffs through blistered lips.
And as she reaches out her hand for another stick of gold
The Kid he gasps, "Goddamn it, bitch, there's nothin' left to roll!"
"Nothin’ left to roll?", screams Pearl, "Is this some twisted joke?”
“I didn't come here to fuck around, man, I come here to SMOKE!"
And she reaches 'cross the table And grabs his bony sleeves
And she crumbles his body between her hands like dried and brittle leaves
Flickin' out his teeth and bones like useless stems and seeds
And then she rolls him in a Zig Zag and lights him like a roach.
And the fastest man with the fastest hands goes up in a puff of smoke.
In the laid-back California town of sunny San Rafael
Lives a girl named Pearly Sweetcake, you prob’ly know her well.
She’s been stoned twenty-one of her twenty-four years, and the story’s widely told.
How she still can smoke them faster than anyone can roll
While off in New York City on a street that has no name.
There's the hands of the Calistoga Kid in the Viper Hall of Fame
And underneath his fingers there's a little golden scroll
That says, Beware of Bein’ the Roller When There's Nothin’ Left to Roll.
awesome photo from Tanner
allaboutsurf.com is a fabulous site. Be prepared for a time sink. Here are some photos from there.
fin-room at moonlight glassing
Machado gets in there
Rob Gilley photo
Golden wave (Gilley photo)
Bagel's favorite surfer, Bagel's favorite wave
Princeton Jetty going off!
Muted, grey sky. Rain drizzling down. Flags slack with no wind. A good morning to burrow under the covers but the siren song of surf caterwauled from three blocks away. Wetsuit nice and icy from the night's downpour. Over the Great Highway and shit didn’t look too good. Warbly, funky, brooding storm-churned brackish messiness looked to be the situation. But a few glassy ones on the outside popped into view. Paddle out through the murk. Try to avoid oral or nasal ingestion. Some thumpings. Glassy out the back. Swift north-bound current. Absolutely nobody around… err.. except.. wait.. no way!! Lerm makes his way out. Siiick! Some smooth, overhead, raunchy suckouts cruise through and we ride em’. What I assumed would be a utility sesh quickly became pretty radical. Ledging, frumpy powerful walls and sections rise and crunch. Lerm locks into a handful of tasty morsels, carves hard off the lip on one and throws some spray. Classic Lerm stylings. Rain falls down as we sit and wait for waves. Yell at each other cause we're both deaf from the ear plugs. Glassy and pleasant out there. Good waves though you would never guess it from the beach. Crazy, high-speed intense walls and speed-flumes. I get a nice left and whip my velocity up into the well-formed lip. Moderate whackage. Get hung up in the feathering crest on a left and go over with the falls.. aww yeah.. Last ride of session a loping, significant right peaks up for me. I sprint and take-off under the ledge.. accelerate down the face but begin racing and pumping before I hit the bottom… fast as hell ride.. carve up along the top then back to the bottom.. race and pump as I see a huge suckout monster barrel begin to form in front of me. No way out and I’m not pulling into that grim reaper so I turn toward shore and then just get obliterated by the cataclysmic explosion. Bodily system now infused with murky urban ocean water. Fuuuckk.. hair all in my face. Cool last ride though.. I love surfing in the rain.
Thoughts of God this morning and last night. Rastavitch says god is everything. Friend of mine says God is all things positive. Many believe in a detached, creator God, like a clockmaker. Many believe God oversees our every action and knows the thoughts and deeds of all. Old Testament has some wrathful, vengeful God. Many posit God as masculine, some feminine. Nietzsche said “God is Dead.” George W thinks he talks directly with God and believes he does no wrong because he’s instructed by God. Scary. Many Gods or one God? No God? God as the summation of all things mysterious? God as the answer to questions outside the ability of the human mind to grasp? God as embodiment of the interconnectedness of all things? When in doubt, God? Dog is my copilot? The idea of God as a inevitable product of the human mind? No God only being? No mystery only existence? Raw and random and meaningless and arbitrary? Where is the beginning? For what reason existence? Specks of sand milling on a tiny pebble stuck to an insignificant flicker amidst a non-descript galaxy within a random corner of the pulsing gihugic universe. Or each of us the highly evolved, systematized, conglomeration of millions of smaller sub-universes. Each of us the God of smaller entities. The congregation that creates meaning. The purpose of existence. Relativity. Will we even know?
Mexi posted some of his killer new photos
Rob Born sent me some stellar pics from the south pacific
Rocky sent this photo of a local spot last week. Churning and grinding... oh yeah.
Got up. No wind. Lerm calls. Says it’s small. How small? Real small. Grab Brett’s 9’ log. Jog down. Say hi to friendly dog. Meet Lerm. Over highway. Down to beach. Bigger than expected. It’d be nice to have the shortboard. Oh well. See a super-mush outer-bar wave. Paddle way out to it. Turbo-speed booster paddle. Angle take-offs into outer-bar mushers. Shuffle to a cheater-five. Sort-of. Catch three rides then paddle in and trade boards with Lerm. Lerm searches for longboard-land. Some nuggies on the inside on Lerm’s fish. Catch a few. Christian paddles out. Electrified morning. Storm brewing on outer waters. Glassy glistening glassiness. Funky waves barreling then backing off then farting out. Christian gets some long ones and a nice narrel. Christian forgets he has no leash and I almost get speared. No worries. Lerm paddles in from the outside on the pier. He takes off on an inside left. Pretty fun and getting better. Christian more good rides. I kookily cruise along a few peelers. Lerm and I trade boards again. Lerm scores a nice multi-turner on his GRAS. I take off on a few semi-steepies on the tanker. I’m getting better at the longboard/single-fin thing. Angled take-offs and not much turning. Novel to whip through the fat sections. Absolutely impossibly to duckdive. Didn’t try to turtle roll.. Just bailed it. 8:10 rolls around. We come in. Bunch of dead seagulls on the beach. We contemplate lunch. Christian’s yoga teacher wants to enable him to pleasure himself. Lerm’s girl leaving for Taiwan. Hope it’s not flat this weekend for central coast surf trip. Here comes Brett walking Zeus the crazy cool ol’ dog. Give his board back. Run home. Shower shave N-judah book jamba juice bagel ola como estas to Alfredo surf-report present moment.
oh yeah.. soo.. anyone interested in a brand new, still-in-the-box 15gig IPOD for $200? I bought it for a friend who's mom bought her the same thing! Argghhg!! I got it for $260 and it's still in the box. kick me an email at firstname.lastname@example.org
Couple of scenes from Bagel's comic strip
Partying with native americans, chewbacca and indiana jones
Evil guy laughing merrily
Chewbacca gets wasted
A fabulous, quintessential weekend of surf in the bay area. Saturday late morning witnessed a smorgasbord of high-quality, ripper-friendly juicy peaks. Literally hundreds of wave-hounds spread from Seal Rock to Lawton. Inner-bar suckout barrels mixed with fun-loving glassy walls mixed with thick evil close-out destruction. It was great to see the Beach really working. Last Tuesday and Friday were beautiful and chilled-out, but Saturday was beautiful and high-performance. Saw heaps of niceness crew in the water Saturday. Watched Lewis crack the lip with authority on his forehand. Just a little inside wave where he bottom-turned and then whipped up vertical to attack the lip. Saw Tom out there and chatted it up with him until a bulbous, attractive peak came to me.. I took off and kind-of air-dropped/pig-dogged into the pit but then got crunched by the closeout barrel. Came up to watch Tom take off backside on a similar wave… niiice.. Cool to see Renan out there too. Bagel and I traded waves for a while. The evenflow romeo maestro from malibo dropped into some gaping, extra-strong punchy grinders. It was cool to hoot him into beasty waves that were obviously gonna spin and barrel. He just stayed all chill, stroked resolutely.. dropped down all loose and relaxed.. bottom turned, then looked for lips to kiss. A great session.
Then yesterday VFers looked similar, if not a bit smaller. Looked like highly enjoyable small-wave surfing on offer. I was tempted.. But.. a friend and I went on a road-trip to a tucked-away, tranquil, longboard-friendly location. Family style. Dog friendly. We borrowed a huge 9 foot log (thanks Brett!) and paddled out into the almost lake-like Pacific. The pacific Pacific. This was CJ’s third try at surfing and her first somewhere other than OB. Her past two sessions she caught maybe 3 rides each on her belly. This time she caught maybe 8 or 9 rides and got to her feet 3 times! The giant longboard was pretty unwieldy and had a tendency to pearl but it also floated like a pier and caught the tiniest of wavelets. It was awesome to see CJ pop to her feet a few times. She didn't really last very long in a standing position but she got up there.. I'm proud of her!! She was stoked but also a bit frustrated. She’s hankering for some real down-the-line voyages. I took the log out for a spin after she went in with claw-like, frostbitten feet and hands and geez.. i full-on pearled on my first wave on that thing. Again.. I have no idea how you longboarders work your magic on those unresponsive beasts. I snagged a long down the line ride on my second try but I felt like Gidget or something as I jiggled to stay balanced on the huge plank-like singlefin. I would have liked to try a few more waves but it was time to roll.. I think that I’m a 3-finned shortboarder for life. I feel like a fish out of water on a longboard or a singlefin.. I just feel so unbalanced and 50’s style dorky. But.. maybe I need a full week at a little 2-ft Baja pointbreak with a ten foot longboard and some friends. That would be rad. Later we drove for a while then hiked to some out-of-the-way beaches and saw some mysto waves all glassy and working with nobody around. Hmmmm…
This morning I didn’t check it but dawn-patrol stalwarts Lerm and Kaiser gave it a miss.. declaring conditions “small, mushy and barely surfable.”
AI - three-time world champ as of yesterday
Close your eyes and imagine feathering, head-high glassy A-frames with nobody out. Now walk down to your local and open your eyes. THE DREAM IS REALITY! A beautiful, mellow, fantasy-land morning out there today. Sunny skies. Total utter uber-glass. Nice, solid, user-friendly peaky swell. Heaps of heads up at VFWs but not too many through the middle. First wave around 6:45 I was too far inside but spun and gunned deep back into the sculpted, gulping overhead perfection.. But alas I was too late and couldn’t hold on to the air-droppy takeoff under the lip.. smooshed! Then lots of waiting as pelicans soared and absolutely gorgeous waves loped in, rose up and peeled seductively. Caught a few warm-up waves on some smaller nugs. Then a money right reared up for me.. well-overhead. A few stroked and I’m in.. A flash-vision of one of Slater’s smooth takeoffs from Broke Down Melody crosses my mind and I pop to my feet as quick and quiet as I can.. tuck and hold a high-line against the pitchy wall.. get narrelled.. then release as the wave slows.. drop to the bottom.. big fat beautiful wall in front of me. bottom turn with speed.. whip up to the top.. smack and turn off the top.. back to the bottom.. pump and enjoy the glassy well-shaped wall.. again the wave steepens up.. relax back into the pocket and bottom turn. head back up to the lip.. pivot off the lip and back down.. a few more pumps then the wave really mushes.. use all remaining speed to roundhouse back into the whitewater and try to complete the roundhouse. Fuuuck!! Best wave since central America.. Paddle back out and my friend Brett comments on my two “Duuudges” off the top. Wow! Nobody usually sees your good rides.. only the kooky ones and wipeouts! Brett took off on some nice ones.. Later I scored a few long lefts.. almost a three hour session. Amazing day for the non-big-wave crew like me!! Doesn’t get much better. Fur real! Minimal duckdiving. Unbelievable, magazine-quality sexy sexy overhead peaks. Barrels for the barrel-hounds. Magic.
Stinkeye (tuffproductions.com) took some exciting photos of a norcal beachie yesterday (not OB)
All the people who couldn’t wait for the “real OB” to kick into gear and thin out the ranks at your favorite avenue sandbar, TODAY’S YOUR DAY! A crisp, lip-defining ENE offshore wind is currently grooming the sizeable, no-joke, Aleutian groundswell into mad, “where’s my mommy,” top-to-bottom psychonaut thrill-rides. I came around the bend on Geary street around 6:30 and the sea-surface looked spectacular. Total offshore-smoothed blanket. Then I saw some corduroy! Oh shit! Then I watched some massive inside shorepound detonate at Kelly’s. Thick, powerful, intimidating masses of raw swell wreaked havoc up and down the beach. I didn’t check the likely spot but maybe a few brave souls made the charge higher up in the alphabet of streets? Man… the Nor Pac has awoken and is sweeping clean any pretenders or fair-weather surfers like yours truly. No doubt spots down the coast are firing on all cylinders right about now. Cheers to the lucky crew smart or wily enough to be scoring! If you’re one of them let us know what’s up!
Cape Edgecumbe buoy in Alaska currently 26ft 17seconds
California buoy - 19ft 11seconds
Monterey Bay buoy - 17ft 14 seconds
Know your limits out there.
California (probably looks like this at nearby spots right now)
Rob Born photo
Broke Down Melody tonight
When: Thursday November 4th at 7:15 and 9:15pm
Where: The Roxie
3117 16th Street (at Valencia) 415.863.1087
$7:50 Advance tickets available at AQUA
A sad day for the World. A sad day for peace and the environment and civil liberties and rationality and humanity. America has spoken and what she says is scary, nauseating and painful to hear. What the majority of Americans are saying is that they actually support the vision of the Bush Administration. A muddled, unjustified war fought for no reason. Over 11,000 innocent civilians DEAD! Over 1,000 US servicemen DEAD! FOR NO REASON! I hope all the people who voted for Bush are ready to be drafted for service in Iraq. Environmental laws gutted. The enforcement infrastructure for defending environmental laws decimated. Forests demolished, drilling in the Arctic, clean water laws relaxed, roadless areas paved, mercury pollution, factory farm miasma, global warming denial. Prepare yourself for a mighty parade of environmental devastation in the next four years. Get ready for more draconian affronts on our personal privacy and freedoms. Get ready for two or more Bush appointees to the Supreme Court. Get ready for further economic stratification. Get ready for four more years of smug, self-righteous, smarmy, heavy-handed decision-making by our chief executive and his minions of destruction.
It now appears that we do, in fact, live in a fundamentalist country. We may be the least liberal of the western nations. Educated, civilized, rational people around the world are currently cringing and recoiling as they digest the true current outlook of the American populace. It seems that many many many Americans voted for Bush because they’re either afraid, uninformed, religious or some admixture of the three. Again and again I’ve pondered, in astonishment, WHY anyone would support this administration. God and Fear repeatedly come up as answers. People somehow think that because Bush is a born-again, god-fearing, “faith”-obsessed religious zealot that “we” have “God” on our side. I have learned about and witnessed religion do many good things for many people… but in the case of this election and the current mood of our country I really feel that Christian fundamentalism somehow blinds people from reality. It allows them to fictionalize what's really happening. People are willing to overlook or ignore countless atrocities put forth by the Bush administration because they feel that he’s a “man of faith,” just like them. They believe he can do no wrong because he has God on his side. It’s a petrifying fiction that currently fuels the trajectory of this great nation. I’m fearful of ourselves.
Sorry to bring it down. But.. it’s a monstrous day in our history. A sad and gut-wrenching day.
In surf news it’s victory at sea out there. Giant, tumultuous walls of mayhem raggedly pounded the outer bars. Maybe Santa Cruz town? Maybe bo bo? Surfing would be a great salve for the day.. but.. it’s not to be for Bay Area wave riders.
Mark Morford wrote the following this morning:
"It simply boggles the mind: We've already had four years of some of the most appalling and abusive foreign and domestic policy in American history, some of the most well-documented atrocities ever wrought on the American populace and it's all combined with the biggest and most violently botched and grossly mismanaged war since Vietnam, and still much of the nation still insists in living in a giant vat of utter blind faith, still insists on believing the man in the White House couldn't possibly be treating them like a dog treats a fire hydrant.
Inexplicable? Not really. People want to believe. They want to trust their leaders, even against all screaming, neon-lit evidence and stack upon stack of flagrant, impeachment-grade lie. They simply cannot allow that Dubya might really be an utter boob and that they are being treated like an abused, beaten housewife who keeps coming back for more, insisting her drunk husband didn't mean it, that she probably had it coming, that the cuts and bruises and blood and broken bones are all for her own good.
This election's outcome, this heartbreaking proof of a nation split more deeply and decisively than ever, it simply reinforces the feeling among much of the educated populace: It is a weirdly embarrassing time to be an American. It is jarring and oddly shattering and makes you rethink what it really means to be a part of this country. The answer: It doesn't mean much at all. Not really. Not anymore.
This is the common wisdom on the progressive Left. Those first four toxic Bush years? A fluke. A phantasm. A stolen election. A gaff, a mugging, a crime. But this? An election this close makes you reconsider. Maybe, after all, we aren't nearly as far along as we think. Maybe we're not all that sophisticated or nuanced or respectable a nation as we sometimes dare to dream.
Maybe, in fact, we're regressing, back to the days of guns and sexism and pre-emptive violence, of environmental abuse and no rights for women and an sincere hatred of gays and foreigners and minorities. Sound familiar? It should: It's the modern GOP platform.
Here's the thing: For tens of millions of us, it is simply unconscionable that we could possibly be led for another four years by a small and spoiled little man who has very little real idea what he's doing and even less of how the hell he got there. It would be funny, in a Adam Sandler, toilet-humored sort of way, were it not so poisonous and depressing. And yet it looks like we're stuck with it, like a shard of glass buried deep in the eye.
And the rest of the world? Well, it can only watch us and shake its collective head and wonder just what the hell is wrong with us, why so many millions of us would even consider re-electing the world's most inept and war-hungry and insanely inarticulate man to four more years of unchecked power, why our much-hyped much-coveted supposedly ultra-superior democratic system is so very deeply blotchy and knotty and spoiled.
So then, to much of Europe, Asia, Canada, Mexico, Russia, the Middle East -- to all those dozens of major world nations who want Bush out almost as much as the educated people of America, to you we can only say: We are so very, very sorry. We don't know how it happened, either. For tens of millions of us, Bush is not our president and never will be. That's how divisive. That's how dangerous. That's how very sad it has become.
The GOP steamroller appears to be just too powerful, just too well-oiled and blood soaked and fear inducing to be stopped just yet. After all, the Right has been working on this master plan and building their takeover strategy for about forty years. It's gonna take those of us working for change and progress and raw spiritual juice a little more than one or two to dissolve it away like the cancer it so obviously is.
Apparently, there are lessons yet to be learned. Apparently we must hit some sort of new low between now and 2008, attain some sort of seriously vicious status in the world before we will snap out of it. You think?
This much is clear: We are not, with a grim Bush victory, headed for buoyancy and friendship and sincere hope for something new and refreshing. We are not, with another four years of what we just endured, headed toward any sort of easing of bitter tension, a sense of levity, or sexual openness, or true education, or gender respect, or a lightness of spirit and of step.
Maybe the best we can hope for, at this ominous and slightly sickening moment, is one hell of a lot more patience."
A couple of photos from the niceness archives to hopefully lessen the pain
Nep OB pics
South Swell in norcal
OB in april
Bagel's barrelled dude
Gorgeous, brilliant morning in the Yay Area. A light offshore chilled exposed necks but a crystalline glassy sea-surface warmed the hearts of any prospective wave rider gazing out onto the swell-blessed ocean. Just absolutely beautiful-looking waves out there this morning. Head-high, baby-butt-smooth, peeling, mellow and fun. A few barrels presented themselves if you knew where to look but for the most part waves suffered from a wee bit of mushiness. It was unreal to be sitting out there in the absolute plate-glass ocean and watch grotesquely immaculate sets march in and bomb and peel non-threateningly on the outer bars. Overhead lefts with long down-the-line excursions. Relatively populated for a mid-week dawn-patrol but the wealth was spread up and down the beach, ensuring that vibes remained calm and friendly. A tough morning to get out of the water and come to work. Fur sure. I managed to track down a handful of those sizeable lefts. Nearly boggled a drop on my best one but recovered and managed to hammer up to the steep lip for a high-speed lip-crack. That felt good. In the past I’ve had opportunities to rise up into a vertical lip and give it a whack but usually failed to do so before the opportunity was lost.. but on this particular wave I had some speed from the drop and was nestled in the pocket nicely.. I saw the wave wall up in front of me and threaten to pitch.. so I crouched down and backside bottom-turned.. felt a super-slight bog on my inside edge (something I’ve been working to smooth out for months! Arggh!) but still carried most of my speed.. then I projected my board up into the about-to-throw lip and let the wave redirect me as I pivoted then re-entered.. then did another bottom turn and top-turn.. Felt good to carve through a little combo. But.. shit.. enough horn tooting.. seasoned local rippers were tearing me a new arsehole this morning. A new face I’ve seen in the lineup a lot recently (bright board, curly hair, skinny, maybe 5’10”) farking slaughtered waves all over the joint. I watched him do 4 maneuvers on one wave… roundhouse cutback, topturn, barrel and then a little air at the end. Shredder. An older guy on a red longboard probably caught 100 waves. Good on that guy. Lerm represented well for the niceness crew, scoring some solid lefts and working his way down long glassy faces. Good on the Lerm. Conditions seemed to improve around 7:20 and were still working exceptionally well when i forlornly departed a little after 8. Solid, magazine-quality waves out there today. Go get some and then go vote!
Anyway.. the season is HERE!!! YAY!!!
Rocky (Old Schooler) sent me some sick pics from Oct 27th at a local spot
Happy November 1rst!! On what could be considered New Year’s day for the NorCal surfer, offshore winds and a sizeable Aleutian groundswell combined to create some stunning panoramas along Bay Area beaches this morning. From the beach conditions looked glorious. Feathering head-high++ peaks rifled and churned down the line with nare a surfer around. The paddle-out seemed daunting but ended up being not too vicious. Just as I got outside this beautiful, stacking, doubling-up, uber-mega-glassy, yawning daddy of a wave rose up before me. I spun and dug and wedged myself under the steepening lip. My stomach jumped into my throat as the wave just jacked and jacked and finally let me into its now-vertical entrance. I popped up and began tracking down.. pretty much free-falling. I enjoyed about one second where I saw the large, shapely, about-to-barrel wall form up in front of me and then I got smacked by the lip and annihilated. Arggh!! So close!! Lerm said the lip whacked me in the back of the head. D’oh. Sorrowfully, that was the best wave that came my way the entire session. The waves were deceptive this morning in that they looked gorgeous and shreddable from shore but once in the water it proved difficult to line em’ up correctly. Classic OB in that the larger ones would break nice for a moment on the outer bars, mush out, then reform and go crazy on the inside. I latched into a few sizeable lefts and enjoyed some big-wave drops and cruises. We watched some nutty psycho barrels munch and scream and pummel on the inside… all brown and sandy.
Lerm, Kaiser and I paddled out together but once in the lineup Kaiser apparently drifted to the south, into the morbid hinterlands of the middle beach . We hope he survived as conditions looked decidedly angry down there. Lerm and I floated by ourselves until the end of the session at which point this cute surfer girl drifted over, alone and on a green board. Way out beyond the second sand bar. We came in shortly after and she was way out there.. hope she’s ok!
Good day to take the gun for a spin. Big and mushy waves available, along with screaming loco pits on the inside. A good surfer could probably score a few incredible sections, but for mere mortals it's tough to snag the succulence.
also... tomorrow.. NOVEMBER 2!!! It's time to step up and VOTE!!!! If you make over 500 thousand a year and don't care about the environment or killing innocents or a sound energy policy or common sense then vote for the incumbent. But.. if you care about the future of our great nation place a vote for John Kerry. Either way get out there and let your voice be heard!
Here are some photos from Halloween night!
crazy scary guy and medieval dude
Trick or treat, trick or treat, give me something good to eat.
Indian giving stink-eye
Fat Homer with Mumu at home on disability, Shrek and Dead Yankee