Let's Just Get Lost (Bag of Toys)

No, I'm not lost. I haven't chucked the cubicle life and the weekly paycheck for carefree surf and sun on some remote tropical coast. Rather, I've stepped offline to take care of some real-world responsibilities. I'll be posting from time to time as a guest writer on The Surfing Blog and uploading the occasional video to Vimeo. And still surfing, of course. Maybe I'll see you in the water.

Really makes me miss Costa Rica. And wish I could ditch it all, move down there, and just surf.

Why Weren't Women Invited to Mavericks?

The Mavericks Surf Contest recently announced the 2009 invitees, and all 26 are men. WTF?! Sarah Gerhardt, the focus of One Winter Story, has been surfing the big waves of Mavericks for more than 10 years. She was invited to the contest in 2001, but only as an alternate. Jenny Useldinger and Jamilah Star are also Mavs regulars.

The Billabong XXL Big Wave Awards aren't so sexist. Maya Gabeira, who charges with the guys on massive waves, is up for Biggest Wave and Monster Paddle for riding Dungeons (photo), and for Ride of the Year and Monster Tube at Teahupoo. Women's surfing icon Layne Beachley is in the running for Ride of the Year for taking on a big one at Ours. Mercedes Maidana has entries for Monster Paddle at Waimea Bay and Biggest Wave at El Buey. And Jamilah is up for Ride of the Year at Puerto Escondido and Monster Paddle at Mavericks itself.

I asked Keir Beadling, Mavericks CEO, why no women are on the invitee list. His answer? "Hmm..." C'mon, we want to know why the contest is ignoring half the population. Are you afraid a woman might win?

Kelly Ave, 5 September 2009

With just a little lingering NW swell, I expected the waves to be small this morning and drove to Half Moon Bay with 8' Big Blue strapped to the roof. There was no one in the water at Kelly but one peak was working, offering up some waist-high rights and lefts. T was late so I headed out alone. It was cool to be the only human in the water, with pelicans splashing down around me and sea lions cruising by as they breakfasted. One curious sea lion surfaced about 15 feet away and checked me out a couple times before getting back to her meal. Wish I could have gotten her on video, but since I forgot to charge my camera battery, today was all about the surfing.

The only thing better than surfing a break alone is surfing it with just a friend. When T paddled out to join me, she told me Linda Mar was already looking crowded, with nothing much happening wave-wise. Yet here we were, alone on our own peak. I'll take an empty break with lower-quality waves over a crowded epic one any day. And the waves weren't bad. With patience, there were shoulders to be had, and I needed to rely entirely on myself to be in the right spot to catch them. No looking at where other surfers were lining up, as is often my lazy habit; just drawing on my many hours (days? weeks?) of water time to get it right. After a few pearls on the slightly steep waves, I got plugged into the longboard again for some nice rides both front- and back-side. The best was a sweeet left: nice bottom turn, right in the pocket, and up and out the back at the end of the ride. Stoked!

Surf Flick Reviews

I've just indulged in a mini surf film fest, watching four surf movies in less than a week. The first was Newcastle, a recent Australian movie. I wasted 40 minutes of my life on it, before I couldn't take another second of unlikeable aggro teenagers who surf.

Next I watched One Winter Story, about Sarah Gerhardt, the first woman to surf Mavericks. I've long admired her, and this was a short but interesting story set on our local big-wave break with some Hawaii North Shore and central California thrown in. Unfortunately, the artsy cinematography was distracting. The coastline in the Bay Area is, in my opinion, some of the most beautiful in the world, and to turn the blues and greens of sky and sea and the tans and blacks of sand and rock into a pallete of grays is a great disservice. Worse were the attempts at making the video look old by peppering it with speckles and graininess. I like to see the world not as it might have been recorded in my grandparents' time, but as it is, in all its gorgeous color and clarity (or famous fog). But the true story kept me watching. Although I don't aspire to take on big waves like Sarah, she echoed my thoughts as she described the freedom surfing brings, how it focuses the mind, troubles melt away and one lives in the moment on the waves.

The best movie of the lot was Siestas & Olas (naps and waves), recommended by S2. It logs the surf safari of Tom Wegener and a few buddies as they surf and camp down the coast of Mexico. The narrator has a wry sense of humor and keeps the story rolling along with the old truck that carries the surfers on their journey of exploration. They happen upon many deliciously empty waves spotted from the rutted roads. It almost made me want to go on a Mexico surf safari myself... almost. But the comments about constant mosquito bites, accommodations without beds, not showering for weeks - well, I guess I'm just soft, but that doesn't sound like all that much fun. Fly me to a remote but comfortable resort fronting a warm left point break instead.

As I write this, I'm less than half watching My Eyes Won't Dry, basic wordless surf porn set to so-so tunes. The inside-the-tube footage initially made me catch my breath, thinking what it will be like to someday experience that for myself. But with no story to hold my interest, my mind soon drifted away. There's a lot of footage from boardcams, but that too gets old after a while. And now I see that it's over. Oh well, time to watch CSI on Netflix Instant. Or better yet, to check the surf forecast for tomorrow one more time. I'm looking forward to a mellow longboard session to melt away the stress of the workweek.

Half Moon Bay @ Jetty, 30 August 2009

Another session at the Jetty bookended my weekend. It pays to get up early; I had the break all to myself for about 15 minutes. It was interesting to observe the few people who checked it while I was changing into my wetsuit. One guy watched the waves for less than 30 seconds before heading back to his car. A woman looked a little longer before driving away, but she was back again after I surfed, so I guess it was slim pickings elsewhere. Granted, there wasn't a lot to work with at the Jetty, only 2-4' and closing out a fair bit with the occasional shoulder, but I didn't have time to drive around this morning since I need to get some stuff (besides surfing) done today. And in my first 15 minutes alone, I caught a couple of nanorides on Nemo. Then two longboarders paddled out, and one immediately parked himself deeper than me and took over the peak. He obviously hadn't read SurfingStoke's Rules of Etiquette. I wasn't able to find a sweet spot again, and cumulative fatigue from 3 days of surfing plus a chill from the suddenly colder ocean pushed me back to the beach after about an hour. But the weekend has left me seawaterlogged, with achy paddling muscles and a mostly contented feeling. Aaahh.

Kelly Ave Surf Check

Sorry about the jiggling; apparently image stabilization doesn't work for walking or shivering.

Davenport & Capitola, 29 August 2009

THE DAY IN PICTURES (SOME OF THEM MOVING)

La Roca*

Oops, S2 got the tides backwards; too much water on it this morning. But the three and a half of us - me, L, S2 and his young daughter M - had 11 boards between us, ready for anything, so we kept driving south.

Satellite Beach*

As a blond surfer who was leaving said, "Big and gnarly, dude!" (OK, he didn't really say "dude." But he did say "gnarly.")

Davenport

The waves were a lot bigger and more powerful than I realized looking from the beach. Although mushy on the high tide, they were going up to 2-3 feet overhead. I got in some duck-diving practice on the fish, and had a couple oh-shit moments in the face of huge breakers when I just ditched my board and dove under (after looking around to make sure no one was nearby, of course), but I was too scared to try to catch anything. I lost track of L for a bit but when we reconnected, we both agreed it was a good idea to follow his original suggestion that "if it's too big, let's try Eastside Santa Cruz."

The Hook

Can you say "party wave"?

Capitola

Having abandoned the more skilled S2 at Davenport (and we hope he got some good ones), L and I landed at waist- to shoulder-high Capitola, my favorite longboard break. I borrowed his wife's new board (thank you B) since I hadn't packed Big Blue. A sunny Saturday brought out all the fair-weather surfers, but L and I sat next to a clueless clump of surf-schoolers close to the jetty, inside of what he aptly named "the kook line," and picked off the waves they were missing. Putting into practice S2 and L's advice that I need to dig deeper when I paddle, I quickly dialed in to ride about five nice waves. Re-stoked!

*Pseudonyms. You can try to guess, but I ain't sayin.'