Maya's Passion

Maya Gabeira's near drowning at Nazare, off the coast of Portugal, on Monday has been well publicized and documented. Certainly, the images of her floating face down in the surf, her tow partner Carlos Burle leaping from his PWC to pull her out of the water, and being administered CPR on shore are together disturbing. She's lucky to have only sustained a broken ankle from this harrowing experience.

Not surprisingly, many others feel the same way. One of my favorite surfing websites, theinertia.com, posted the following question on Twitter yesterday to engage those who saw, heard or otherwise have an opinion on risking one's life to surf giant waves:

<blockquote class="twitter-tweet"><p>We&#39;ve watched Maya Gabeira almost die surfing big waves twice in two years. Should she stop? <a href="http://t.co/EOWuo2YYbh">http://t.co/EOWuo2YYbh</a></p>&mdash; The Inertia (@the_inertia) <a href="https://twitter.com/the_inertia/statuses/395316623671689216">October 29, 2013</a></blockquote>
<script async src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script>

Note: if the tweet didn't embed properly, theinertia.com posed the question: "We've watched Maya Gabeira almost die surfing big waves twice in two years. Should she stop?"

There's no doubt that what Maya, Carlos and many other big wave chargers do is dangerous. Quite frankly, it's a miracle not more people have died trying. But by directly or indirectly questioning her decision to continue pursuing her dream is ludicrous. It isn't up to theinertia.com or any of its readers to decide whether Maya should stop chasing big waves. This more than a job. This is her passion; it's how she defines herself. Yes, it's dangerous. Yes, people have died and she's come close twice now. I'm sure she's fully aware of the risks and consequences of her decisions. And I'm pretty sure she battles fear when she's out there, particularly when she lets go of the rope and commits to outrunning an avalanche of water.

I'm going to guess that she would prefer NOT to die while surfing giant waves so I think it's fair to assume she'll do everything she can to prepare herself for these life threatening conditions. This requires year round physical and mental training. Weights, cardio and breathing training. Nutrition, sports psychology and scenario planning. PWC driving, First Aid, swell forecasting. All these and more I suspect are a part of her weekly routine. Her sponsors, friends and fellow chargers provide the necessary support to enable this preparation and the pursuit of her dream. Unfortunately, her near drownings are a part of the experience. Any less preparation and we'd be likely mourning the loss of another big wave surfer.

We should be envious and not judgmental of her dedication to this dangerous sport and her decision to pursue it with a 100% commitment.

Until next time, may your waves be head high and glassy.

Ode to Fall

Welcome back Fall, or Autumn as the more sophisticated (but less passionate) know you.

In the depths of winter, we pine away for Spring and Summer, for sun and warmth

But they bring crowds and small waves. And with them disillusion and disappointment.

It's Fall that's really the best.
You're like the girl next door, Fall,
The one we overlook, too busy ogling at the popular girl.

But Summer, she's overrated, Fall is not.
Those in the know give her a wink and a nod, calling her "Indian Summer;"

The slipper fits so wear it with pride, Fall.

Every year she brings warm weather, smaller crowds and offshore winds

Together they remind us:
Hey, I live here and this place is pretty special this time of year.

Soon there will be pumpkins, turkeys and Christmas trees, and all are welcome 

But right now there are no distractions. 

Just beautiful weather and a feeling of serenity. Of harmony. Of here and nowness.

Thank you Fall. 

For bringing groundswells, beautifully groomed waves 

And a reminder how great it is to be alive. 

I ain’t no poet and now you know it. Until next time, may your waves be head high and glassy.

More Duct Tape

In early June a video was posted on Yahoo, as well as many other sites I'm sure, of a surfer in Australia surfing with his friend's mom, a paraplegic, duct-taped to his back. As it should have, the video and accompanying story went viral. I too was moved by this tale of love and trust and wrote about it on this blog (to read my entry and learn the back-story and see the original video, click here). Korduroy.tv did a nice feature too.

More recently, the physical and emotional bond between these two surfers was showcased using GoPro's kick ass products and technology. As with many GoPro user videos, viewers get an up close and very personal look into the fun people are having out there. Our dynamic duo in Oz are no exception as you'll see in this video.

Once again, this story and image captures the true essence of surfing: communing with nature and sharing the thrill with a friend.

Until next time, may your waves be head high and glassy.

North Shore Revisited

While trolling for covers of the Sandals' Endless Summer theme last night on YouTube, I stumbled upon a posting of the film "North Shore" in its entirety. So marked the beginning of the remainder of my evening. Filmed in 1987, "North Shore" is a cult classic among surfers.

For the uninitiated, this guilty pleasure tells the story of Rick Kane, a surfer from land-locked Arizona, who takes his 2 foot wave pool prowess to the North Shore of Hawaii, home to big waves and big egos. He struggles with the decidedly more potent surf, the push and pull between surfing for fun and love vs. fame and fortune and finally, with the Hawaiians' disdain for haoles (mainlanders). Of course, the movie wouldn't be complete without a local girl who captures Rick's eye and is forced to choose between a predictable life in the islands and the a new life with Rick on the mainland.

No Oscar nods here as the movie is very formulaic and the acting is sub par at best. And the vintage 80s electronica music is God awful. Yet, surfers love this movie. But why? Why this one and not other surfing films? Surfers quote this movie with reverence but blast other films like In God's Hands, Point Break, Blue Crush and more recently Chasing Mavericks (although the criticism for this movie is more subdued as it's based on a true story of a legend in the surfing community).

So what's different about "North Shore?" I have my theories. For one, it seems much more legitimate given the involvement of so many 80s surf legends. Shaun Thomson, Derek Ho, Mark Occhilupo, Hans Hedemann, Mark Foo, and of course, Mr. Pipeline himself, Gerry Lopez are all over the film. Gerry in fact served as technical director and both he and Laird Hamilton have prominent roles. Other big names in surfing like Ken Bradshaw, Michael Ho, Robbie Page, Corky Carroll, Lord "Tally Ho" Blears, among many others, have bit parts or make cameos.

Secondly, the film seems to really capture the communal spirit of the North Shore. Surfers from all over the world flock to the Seven Mile Miracle every winter to challenge the big waves at Sunset, Pipe and Waimea. Everybody seems to know everyone and surfing is the common bond. But a big part of that community is the locals. These are the shapers, glassers and sanders who support, and are supported by, surfers. 

The real locals, those with Hawaiian ancestry, are also highlighted. Poverty and localism (read: racism) are evident but not with an overtly social agenda in mind. 

So is respect. Demanded and enforced by the Hui Nalu but also by Turtle and Rick who push back against the age old stereotypes of haoles chasing waves and women while in the Islands. Regardless, the dichotomy between the soul surfers and the glory seekers is prevalent on the North Shore and in the movie version as well.

So the themes are real in that they're an accurate depiction of life in and out of the water in Hawaii. This is most evident in John Philbin's character, Turtle. He's a local who earns a (meager) living sanding boards. He's dialed in and knows what's what. And Philbin (who not surprisingly surfs in real life) plays the part masterfully -- he walks, talks and acts like he's been on the North Shore his whole life. It's Turtle's classic lines, delivered in pidgin, that surfers parrot. With the exception of Big Wednesday, other surfing movies just miss the mark when trying to portray the surfing life. 

The guys who made North Shore really did their homework. So a word of advice to all Hollywood execs planning on making a surfing film: pitch your concept to Turtle. He'll shoot straight from the hip (in pidgin of course) and tell you whether you've got a hit on your hands. But, sadly, he knows you won't listen because as fans of the movie know, "Nobody listens to Turtle."

If you're curious, you can watch the movie here. Enjoy. Until next time, may your waves be head high and glassy.

Adventure in an Alternative Water World

Me and the fam recently went white water river rafting on the South fork of the American River, a bit outside of Sacramento. For those of you who've never been, it's a rush and I recommend it highly. 

Looking at the river, I was struck by rafting's similarities to surfing. Obviously, the biggest similarity is the fact they're both done on water. From there though the similarities get a little bit more subtle. Like oceans, rivers are living, breathing things; they are always in motion. It's not surprising then that rafting, like surfing, is primarily about thrill seeking. There are periods of calm and waiting as you drift down the river between rapids, just as you'd sit in the lineup waiting for a set. In both instances, your eyes light up when you see what's coming at you. You start thinking about where you need to be, how you get there and what you need to do at the specific moment when you collide with the forces of nature. With surfing, the thrill of catching waves can become addicting and some surfers will make sacrifices to chase them. River guides, I learned, are no different.

Family Portrait

  

Like surfers, rafters go where the action is. They know where the secret spots are and keep those spots under wraps. It may be a rock or a bend in a river whereas, for a surfer it would be a reef or sandbar. In either case, if you can get to know the locals they will share this knowledge with you. 

Our guide was named Ed (I changed his name on the off chance he owes someone money or is running from the law although he was so nice I highly doubt either to be the case) and he completely encapsulated the spirit of the classic surf bum. He had given his life to the outdoors, foregoing much of the bullshit the rest of us distract ourselves with. As a result, there was a very peaceful aura around him and it was easy to understand why. After all, he spent his days on a river, sharing the experience of a lifetime with the uninitiated. 

Having done it for nine years by this point, I'm sure he is well aware of the effect he has on people. The laughter, smiles, and screams of joy and excitement must be so fulfilling and rewarding. While spending his days navigating city dwellers down Class 2 and 3 rapids may not sound like much fun, it seemed to him because shooting down a river was truly his passion. 

Ed wasn't alone in his endeavor. There are many people like Ed who work on the river, pursuing a life of adventure. Sure, there are trade offs. They don't make a lot of money. They also don't wear fancy clothes or live in big houses.  They don't drive nice cars or eat at fancy restaurants either. They may not even have health insurance. But they don't seem to mind. These are creature comforts the rest of us have, enjoy or pursue to make us feel comfortable, cultured or successful. Well, I suspect Ed and his friends have a different definition of success. They've found something they love to do and they're doing it. They're chasing - and living - the dream. They work odd jobs in the off season so they can return to the river in the Spring. Some will wait tables. Some will do manual labor. Others, like Ed, will do ski patrol.

I know there are surfers out there doing the same thing. I think of guys like Kepa Acero, Rusty Long and Brian Conley who have made lots of sacrifices to chase and live their dreams. I'm sure there are thousands of surfers just like these guys. I'm also fairly sure they're happy and don't envy the lives we weekend warriors lead. These adventurers are the modern day versions of surfing's North Shore pioneers, guys like Pat Curren and George Downing, and Buzzy Trent. These guys scrounged to get to Hawaii, sleeping in Quonset huts, cars, cane fields or on the beach and living off the land in order to surf world class waves. 

Kepa Acero: blending in with the locals down south. WAY south

Brian Conley: tube hunter

Wally Frosieth, George Downing, Buzzy Trent: surf check

Whether on a surfboard, raft, bike, skis or whatever, these are keeping the spirit of adventure alive and are to be admired. And if you're looking for adventure on a river in Northern California, look no further than Beyond Limits. It's a family business with tons of expertise, professionalism and aloha. 

Until next time, may your waves be head high and glassy. 

Riot Redux in Huntington Beach

July has been quite a month for surfing. I find it ironic that the subject of my last post, which championed the presence and influence of women on surfing and celebrated via Salted magazine, would be muted by the hysteria created by the video promo for the Roxy Pro in Biarritz (you can see my response in the comments section of an over reaction posted on theinertia.com) and, more importantly, yesterday's riot following the Vans U.S. Open of Surfing in Huntington Beach. 

The scene in 1986

Huntington Beach and Santa Cruz have argued with one another for years (in court even) over which town is more deserving of the title "Surf City." After two riots involving this event in the last 30 years, I think Santa Cruz is better suited for the crown. A lot has been written about yesterday's events with eye witness accounts and pictures and videos all over the web (I don't want to glorify the violence by posting photos or videos however for a good overview, click here). I wasn't there thankfully so I can't comment on what happened however I've been in enough large, boozed-up crowds (49'ers-Raiders games, Bourbon Street, rock concerts, Halloween in Isla Vista, etc.) to see the effects of too much booze and testosterone. 

Surf contest or martial law?

Now, I'm not an expert on crowd control, mob violence, event planning or sociology but I don't think it takes an expert in any of these fields to figure out that lots of people filled with lots of beer with lots of distractions over an extended period of time can lead to trouble. Inevitably, some Bobby Badasses who can't manage their liquor start getting obnoxious and get out of hand. Girls get disrespected, grabbed or groped, guys get pushed, shoved, or hit and then festival fun turns into chaos and mayhem. Valleys, gang bangers, hooligans; whatever you want to call them, they're losers.

I realize the riots weren't likely instigated by surfers or even by fans of surfing (hard to imagine exuberant Brazilians celebrating Alexo Viejo's win or dejected SoCal'ers lamenting Kolohe Andino's loss getting THAT out of hand) however that essentially doesn't matter because the violence is forever linked to the main event: a professional surfing contest. The ASP, the City of Huntington Beach, and the surf industry at large have got to get this figured out. Not just for public safety but for the very reputation of surfing. Because while surfing was born in Hawaii and today is enjoyed all over the world, a lot of our perspectives of surfing are set in Southern California, the epicenter for the sport's fashion, style and much of its talent. You don't see this bullshit at the events held in Hawaii, Australia, Europe or Asia. I'm fearful that this behavior signals to many observers here and around the world that we have lost the spirit and value of surfing. We can't let that happen.

What would Duke think?

Until next time, may your waves be head high and glassy and your head screwed on nice and tight.

I'll Take Mine Salted, Please

Last week I picked up the second issue of Salted, a surfing magazine for women, brought to you by the fine folks at Surfer Magazine. The inaugural issue quietly debuted a year ago and I suspect no one was sure when or if there'd be a second issue. Needless to say, I was pleased when i learned Surfer was going to give it another go.

You may be asking why I'd care about a surfing magazine catering to women. I have a handful of reasons, actually:

1. I love surfing regardless of who's doing it. Hell, I'd buy a surfing magazine if it catered to cats as long as the writing and photography were good.

2. I don't need to see only male surfers rip to be entertained or inspired. I'm pretty sure every single girl featured in Salted surfs better than I do. They hit the lip harder, they bet barreled more, and they surf with more style. And it's not just me. They surf better than most guys. For sure. By far. These girls are pure athletes.

3. And, yes of course, most of them are absolutely beautiful. I'm not a doctor but I've been surfing long enough to know that in dedicating one's life to surfing, typically there are acute side effects like toned bodies, tan skin and beach blonde hair. 

4. These women make great role models to young girls all over the world, including my two young daughters. They are (or at least are presented as) happy, bright, culturally and environmentally conscientious and all around good, thoughtful people. Male surfers are seldom, if ever, portrayed this way. Pop Quiz: Which of the following images better conveys surfing?

Personally, I'm more proud to be associated with the first photo than the second. 

Also, Salted does a great job celebrating them as real people; no anorexic, vapid swimsuit models who've been more airbrushed than a Chip Foose muscle car.

This edition of Salted features exotic travel pieces to places as diverse as Iceland, a secret spot in Mexico, and an island off the coast of China. In addition, there's an introduction to a group of female big wave surfers that all big wave surfing fans should take note of. Until this article, I thought the list of hell women who charged monster surf started and stopped at Keala Kennelly, Maya Gabeira and Sarah Gerhardt. The feature piece in this issue is an interview with Lisa Anderson, a radical, pioneering surfer who I followed as a kid as much as I did Martin Potter and Tom Curren. It was great learning about her struggles and triumphs and that she's still as stoked and waterlogged as she's ever been.

In all, if you love surfing you'll love Salted. Hopefully we won't have to wait a whole 'nother year for issue #3.

Until next time, may your waves be head high and glassy and with lots of surfer girls in the line up.