Let’s all gather ‘round and talk about bonfires, a very hot (sorry) topic these days in San Francisco. The Golden Gate National Recreation Area (GGNRA) has proposed a ban on all fires at Ocean Beach, potentially to begin May 1, 2006, with a public comment period happening as we speak. Currently bonfires are limited to the beach area between Fulton and Lincoln Streets, a policy that was implemented in 2004. Prior to that, fires were allowed along the entire stretch of Ocean Beach.

The issue has proven a controversial one, and the San Francisco surf community appears split. Initially it seemed surfers opposed the ban (defending their right to “burn” so to speak), but many recently have come out in favor of it, concerned that bonfires result in more trash on the beach, increased hazards from broken glass and nails, and so on. While I sympathize with this view and agree that the fires have the potential to cause the aforementioned problems, I wholeheartedly oppose the ban, and, as you might expect, I’ll tell you why, responding to some of the criticisms in the process.

Bonfires don’t cause problems, people do. While it’s easy to point to fires on the beach as the source of a number of urban beach ills, the reality is that these same problems exist whether or not the fires are allowed. What the GGNRA fails to address or even acknowledge is that many of the individuals who come and trash the beach don’t understand the harm that they cause. Once more, unless they are somehow educated, they’ll trash the beach whether they’re sitting around a fire or not.

There are much bigger issues here, and those include lack of infrastructure and education. There aren’t proper facilities at Ocean Beach, because for years the city and various parks departments have refused to acknowledge and invest in a valuable asset that’s right under their noses: A wilderness beach that has been spared from major development, even though it borders an internationally renowned city.

For starters, the city and GGNRA could place trashcans on the beach and implement a garbage and recycling program. The San Francisco chapter of the Surfrider Foundation has for years pushed the GGNRA to do just that, and has continually been stonewalled. The GGNRA’s rationalization? That placing trash cans on the beach will encourage people to bring more trash with them to the beach in the first place. Right-now that’s backwards logic if I’ve ever heard it.

The city and parks departments could also consider placing temporary fire pits on the beach during peak months. Santa Cruz does this on its beaches each year, and it helps keep bonfires and fire debris contained to small areas. Seems sensible to me.

A ban won’t likely be enforced. Currently, even though fires are limited to between Fulton and Lincoln Streets, every weekend there are still fires up and down the beach. The city and GGNRA either do not have the resources or choose not to expend them to fully regulate the current system. A total ban will simply penalize those who choose to abide by the rules, while the law breakers would continue to have fires. I would venture a guess that the latter group is the same subset of individuals who also trash the beach.

A sensible regulation plan will greatly improve the situation. Implementing an advance permitting system, for example, will require people to plan in advance, and offer an opportunity to educate individuals on low impact beach use. Additionally, permitting could serve as an enforcement tool, deterring individuals from causing problems because their information would be registered with the GGNRA as part of the process. There would be recourse.

Placing garbage cans and temporary fire pits on the beach will help keep bonfires and their subsequent debris limited to select areas, and help prevent dangerous debris such as glass and nails from getting strewn across the sand. Regulating both the location of bonfires, as well as potentially scheduling the time of year they are allowed to occur, would help the city and GGNRA minimize the impact that fires have on the beach.

Education is the key. The beach presents a unique challenge in terms of park management. It attracts urban users who often wouldn’t use parkland otherwise, and therefore, they are less likely to be environmentally aware. Bonfires or not, there are numerous opportunities to increase education, including improved beach signage, educational materials at local businesses (where people buy their firewood, for example), and general public awareness campaigns. Additionally, a permitting system could include educational information as part of the process.

In the end, there’s no reason that we can’t implement sensible policies that will still allow for beach bonfires, while greatly minimizing their impact. The solutions to beach management are straightforward, and there are plenty of examples of successful programs in place in neighboring beach communities. Indeed, the real issue here isn’t whether or not bonfires should be allowed at Ocean Beach, but whether the GGNRA and city are willing to allocate the proper resources towards beach management and environmental education.

Get some waves. – DL

Let GGNRA know your opinion during the current public comment period, which runs through April 15th by going to http://www.saveoceanbeach.org.

Related posts:

1. Beach Cleanup at Stinson Beach on Saturday, April 24, 2010
2. SF Surfrider Chapter General Meeting in San Francisco on Wednesday, September 9, 2009
3. NERT (Neighborhood Emergency Response Teams) Training in SF on Sundays, February 13 & 20, 2010

It’s strange, really, how easily you can remove yourself from surfing despite how addictive the sport is. In my case, it was simply a matter of closing the shades and focusing my attention on the computer screen. The surf was out there, I knew, but it was temporarily not a part of my world. I might as well have been in Iowa for all that it mattered.

Now, I’ve certainly endured longer periods with no surf when there’s been a specific reason: non-surf travel, injuries, long flat spells and the like. But I honestly cannot remember a time since first learning how to surf when I was near breaking waves for as long and I simply chose to stay on land. Of course, I was terribly busy with work projects, personal commitments, and other important endeavors. If you’re saying, “No excuse,” you’re right on the mark. I made a conscious choice to focus on other interests, filing surfing wholly into the “distraction” category. Because let’s face it: Surfing is a distraction, albeit a damn pleasurable one. It distracts from work, relationships, even other recreational pursuits.

This led me to wonder: How much of my time does surfing demand? For fun, I decided to calculate how many hours I regularly devote to the sport, not including actual time in the water, because as we all know, time logged in the water is but a fraction of the commitment to the endeavor. I began first with time spent forecasting, planning, and predicting surf conditions. I estimate I spend a minimum of 5 hours per week tracking swell models, watching the weather, and strategizing my surf days and weeks. The all-important requirement of checking the surf- surveying different spots, assessing changing conditions and tides- eats up another 5 hours of my week (a conservative estimate). Equipment maintenance, such as board acquisition and tuning, wetsuit, leash, and wax upkeep, is essential for “surf-readiness” and for me takes up an additional 5 hours. Then there’s a category I’ll call “surf entertainment.” This includes reading surf magazines, perusing websites, watching surf-related film, TV, and video, or even talking story after a session (“Did you see that wave I got?”). This burns an additional 5 hours of each week on average. Finally, an often-overlooked time commitment entrenched in a regular surf schedule is sleep. Local San Francisco surf doc Mark Renneker once estimated that for every hour spent surfing in cold water, the human body requires an additional hour of sleep. If that is indeed the case, then for an average week with 5 two-hour surf sessions, I must factor in about 10 more hours to surf-related sleep per week, at least during the fall/winter season. Totaling all that up, that equals 30 hours per week during prime season that I devote to surfing, for just 10 hours of actual time spent in the water. More or less a full-time job. Is it any wonder why surfers regularly fail at work and relationships?

All this leads me to the following conclusion: Surfing demands involvement. If you’re not involved, you’re not surfing- period. That isn’t to say you need to devote 40 hours per week to remain dialed into the sport, but it does mean you need to stay involved on a regular basis, whether that’s checking your equipment once a week, checking the waves on a daily basis, or even talking to your friends who might be surfing a little more than you. You might have to make a business trip to Omaha, but that doesn’t mean you can

Related posts:

1. The Ethics of Surf Camps
2. Which exercises can I do to stay in shape since I can only surf on weekends?
3. How do I get in better surf shape for a summer surf trip?

I searched deep into his steely brown eyes for a hint of fear, but found none. We were standing so close to each other that our noses were almost touching, and I could feel his breath against my face as he spoke. “I want money for my board, amigo,” he repeated coldly. Just how had I found my way into this situation? Standing toe-to-toe with a pissed-off local in a Mexican beachfront parking lot, demanding that I pay him off. Or else. Or else what? A bloody fistfight? Worse? To further complicate matters, my girlfriend sat in the car just a few steps away. Not only was my pride being challenged, but my honor, in full naked view of the person with whom my honor mattered most.

The day hadn’t begun in such dark fashion. In fact, it had been a banner afternoon up until the recent chain of events. We were south of the border for a one-week, mellow vacation. It wasn’t a hardcore surf trip by any means, but rather a slow-moving, margarita-on-the-beach kind of a deal—the type of trip where no one gets up much before 10 AM.

I was teaching my girlfriend how to surf on a beautiful, sunny, tropical day. The conditions were perfect for her: warm water, lazy 2-3 foot rollers loping their way in, consistent sets. After struggling her way through countless cold, menacing Northern California mornings, she was, needless to say, loving it.

Sarah paddled around on a sturdy, extra-wide nine-foot Gordon & Smith longboard, which suited the conditions well. I shouted her into a few waves, and she stood up easily, riding a couple of the swells all the way to the beach—her first “open face” waves ever. Her stoke was palpable, evidenced by the huge grin engraved on her face.

As the morning wore on, the lineup got more and more crowded and the waves picked up. Soon there were shortboarders and longboarders littering a broad area, from the outside peak to almost all the way to the beach. All was fine until, as Sarah was paddling back out to meet me, a slightly larger set came through and caught her inside. With the first wave breaking directly in front of her, I watched her struggle to push the meaty board through the whitewater—to no avail. From behind I saw her board shoot up and backwards, just as a local surfer who had dropped in on the wave was crossing her path. My view was blocked by the back of the wave and, not seeing any post-wave carnage, I assumed everything had passed without incident. Not quite.

A few minutes later, a wiry local paddled up to me and, pointing to Sarah asked, “Hey, is that your daughter over there?”

“Uh, that’s my girlfriend,” I replied. “Why do you ask?”

“Your ‘girlfriend’ dinged my board, amigo,” he said, “and it’s brand new.” With that, he showed me a fresh six-inch gash on the bottom of what looked to be a sparkling new Pearson Arrow shortboard. He explained to me politely what had happened—that she had lost her board and it had flipped directly into his; that he didn’t have time to get out of the way; that it was her fault.

I apologized sincerely as I contemplated my options, and decided the right thing to do was to offer to pay for the repair. Once more, I judged it the prudent course given the fact that we were visitors to not only this surfer’s country, but to his local surf spot. Besides, I was friends with the owner of a nearby surf shop, and knew he could fix the board quickly and inexpensively.

“Tell you what,” I told him. “At the end of the day, let’s go over to the surf shop and I’ll pay for them to fix the ding.” He readily agreed, and the problem was solved. Or so I thought.

He disappeared from site the rest of the afternoon but, sure enough, just as we were packing up to leave the beach, he magically appeared as if out of nowhere. His vibe was noticeably different from earlier, and as we walked to where our car was parked, I instinctively sensed trouble. While we were loading up the boards on top of the car, I cringed when the bombshell came: “What else are you going to give me? That was a brand new board,” his words lingered in the air.

This was the moment I had hoped to avoid, the moment that a traveling surfer dreads. I turned towards him and said plainly, non-threateningly, “Look, it was an accident. I’ll pay for the repair and that’s it. That’s more than fair.”

He stepped towards me, chest out, looking bigger than I had first judged. “You need to pay me cash for my board,” he persisted. “It was given to me as a gift.”

He stood directly in front of me now, and my mind shifted into overdrive. Look for buddies lurking in the bushes: none. Weapons on his body? Not likely—only wearing boardshorts. Escape options? Would have to be via the car, a difficult proposition at best.

I later learned that at this moment my girlfriend was hiding our valuables from view inside the car, and clutching the neck of an empty Pacifico bottle in her hand.

Diffuse the situation, quickly, I thought to myself. Keep talking. “Take off your sunglasses,” I abruptly blurted. He looked puzzled. “Take them off,” I repeated. I wanted to see his eyes. He did so, and my confidence was temporarily bolstered by his symbolic submission. But his eyes also revealed a flaring temper, and not the apprehension I had hoped for. This kid was ready to fight for his supper.

“Listen to me carefully,” I reasoned with him. “You’re not going to get any additional money from me, period. You have a choice: you can either go with me to the surf shop and get your board repaired for free, or I can leave you, along with your board, here in the parking lot and you can fix it yourself. Now what’s it going to be?”

Sounded reasonable enough to me. No response. “Money,” was all I heard him mutter, and “pay me.” I couldn’t believe it. I was damned if I was going to roll around on the hot Mexican asphalt with a local over a surfboard ding. I hadn’t been in a fight in, how long? Fifteen, twenty years? But here I was, back on the playground, being called out while the girl I passed notes to in class looked on. I was running short on options.

I decided to call his bluff, and ceremoniously unstrapped his board from the roof racks, carried it to the middle of the busy parking lot and set it down gently. As I returned to the car, I was half hoping he would walk over to retrieve his board, enabling us a quick escape route. But he held his ground, and now stood between me and the driver’s side door.

“Well, here goes nothing,” I thought to myself. Pulling together my best Charles Bronson-tough-guy impression, I took a deep breath, narrowed my eyes, and puffed out what little chest plumage I could muster on my skinny six-foot frame. I marched forward and braced for the worst. “Your choice then,” I heard myself say, somewhat unconvincingly.

Then, an amazing thing happened: he blinked. Expecting to be tackled or punched or both, I practically stumbled past him as he let me pass. Although I’m quite sure it had nothing to do with my intimidating persona (or lack thereof), he simply wasn’t going to fight. He silently walked over and grabbed his board, put it back on top of the car, and begrudgingly jumped into the back seat. We drove to the surf shop, and that was that. I never saw or heard from him again.

I never did come to fully understand his motives. Was he honestly looking to pick a fight? Asking for respect? Had he been wronged before by visiting surfers? Perhaps he was just a two-bit hood looking to make some quick cash. I really don’t know. What I do know is that surfing brings about situations that are rarely seen in other aspects of adult life. Outside of surfing, I haven’t had to deal with a fight since the 8th grade, and at least that was over a girl. Some might call it immaturity— and there’s certainly plenty of that —but I’m not so sure that’s all there is to it. Surfing is tribal, territorial, and intensely personal. It has a tendency to bring out the primal emotions in all of us, whether positive or negative.

When an incident occurs in the water, it’s as if a surfer’s personal pride and stature has been challenged, and must be defended. While this may apply more to men, I’ve witnessed the same behavior in female surfers, as well. Whatever the reason, I’ve yet to come across a surfer who hasn’t experienced a similar situation. This “local” may have thought that he had somehow lost the encounter in the water, only to feel the need to make up for it on land.

There’s one thing I do know for sure: I’m a surfer, not a fighter, and more than happy to keep it that way.

Get some waves. - DL

Related posts:

1. Surf-Quirky
2. It Doesn’t Count Unless You Stand
3. The Ecosystem of a Surf Spot

There’s a sour taste in my mouth, and it’s not from the burrito I ate at lunch. No, it’s from the yo-ho who dropped in on me this morning. At my home break. On my best wave of the day. The details of the incident are inconsequential—you likely know the scenario well. It was an all-too-standard, premeditated drop-in. What is worth noting is the brief conversation that ensued afterwards:

“Nice wave,” I said to the rip-off artist in a cool, even tone.
“Thanks,” he replied cheerfully, not realizing it was actually me who he had just burned.
“No really, you were ripping it up,” I continued. “Where’d you learn how to surf like that?”
“Um…” he grew quiet, sensing sarcasm.
“What I really want to know is, was it worth it to you?” I had his attention now. “I mean, was that wave truly worth ruining someone else’s session?”
Silence.

With that, I paddled away and attempted to shake off the incident, but it wasn’t easy. The entire event didn’t sit well. I was surfing near my house, where I go several times a week, and know plenty of people in the water. I had been surfing competently, and in fact had caught a solid wave not long before. For his part, he was an experienced surfer as well—I’d even seen him out surfing from time to time. Yet with all this he still blatantly burned me.

The episode begs the question: whatever happened to surfing etiquette in the water? Is it disappearing altogether?

The recent wave of popularity in the sport of surfing has put more pressure on lineups than ever before. But it’s also a different kind of pressure than in days past. Many of the new entrants to the lineups are beginning and intermediate surfers. Once more, most have not learned much if anything about surfing etiquette. They may not even know that such a concept exists (or used to exist). They only know what they see and experience, and with the breakdown of the traditional hierarchy that once was so prevalent at surf spots, there’s nothing to see but chaos: scramble to get as many waves as you can; be aggressive; paddle for every wave that comes your way.

Steve Barilotti, in his recent piece in Surfer magazine, ”Localism Works,” argues that the breakdown of localism at many spots has had negative side effects, including a loss of pride, pecking order, security, and etiquette. “With no visible hierarchy, what’s left is a testy asocial anarchy, where an heirloom break such as Rincon or Kirra becomes simply a common trough to be used—or abused—and forgotten until it’s time to log a few more waves,” says Barilotti. “Many surfers are becoming increasingly alienated from their ocean culture and environment.”

In Santa Cruz, the city is working in response to the issue of growing crowds and increasing altercations in the water by putting together a brochure designed to teach basic surfing rules. Called The Surfing Way, it’s enough to make most hardened locals cringe. But gone are the days of self-regulated lineups. Surf spot hierarchies, the same ones that for years served to police—and enforce—rules at surf breaks, have all but broken down. Is a dainty brochure for beginners on the “rules” of surfing the answer? Hardly. But it could educate novices on how to avoid trouble.

Santa Cruz Surf Shop in Capitola has also taken a proactive approach to teaching etiquette in the surf. Beginning in June, the owners will offer wave-riding clinics for beginners, in hopes of easing tensions in lineups, and making the water safer. They’re also providing a three-page guide on surfing etiquette with every board rental out of their shop. While these measures might address in small part the issue of newcomers to the sport, they do not deal with the larger concern: increasing anarchy in the water.

The ocean has always been the ultimate Darwinian domain, the Great Equalizer. It doesn’t matter who you are, how rich you might be, how accomplished an athlete you are, or what your land status might otherwise be. Once you enter the water, all bets are off. What counts as a surfer is how you conduct yourself, be it through sheer skill, goodwill, respect for others (or lack thereof) or, in certain cases, intimidation. At times the ocean and surf will kick your ass, regardless of your skill level. At others, you’ll have to deal with tense crowds and complex sociological dynamics in the lineup.

“The Surfing Way” as it were cannot dictate rules in an endeavor that’s inherently non-conforming. Surfing is not pre-packaged and controllable. There’re no tee times, referees, or penalty flags. It’s savage and wild and chaotic, like the nature of the ocean itself. That is in large part the allure: to tame the wild beast, slay the uncontrollable dragon. But with that wildness comes a social order that’s freeform and spontaneous. The only laws that exist are ones that are self-imposed—and self-enforced. The surfing lineup is the ultimate playground environment, and if a bully comes up and steals your ball, you’d better be able to take care of yourself. That doesn’t necessarily mean with violence or aggressive behavior, either. One of the most useful skills on the playground is the ability to avoid trouble before it starts, or to know how to diffuse a situation quickly.

I liken surfing, at least at certain spots, to a tough, inner-city hoops game on the south side of Chicago in the heat of the summertime. You can’t expect to just walk up to the court as a stranger, with your shiny new Nikes on and scream, “I got next!” If you do, you better be a pretty damn good player, or be adept at making some fast friends, or both. If you’re not, or can’t, then hey—maybe you just don’t belong there.

Mike Klassen (name changed), a regular at Steamer Lane in Santa Cruz, says that although there are no longer as many heavies policing the lineup, there are still unspoken rules that exist. Among others, according to Klassen, “If you botch a good wave and you’re not a regular, you become invisible for the rest of the day.” He also thinks that too often infrequent visitors show up to a spot with a sense of entitlement to the waves. “If you’re a rookie and don’t know any locals, you are never ‘up’ (for the next wave),” he says. Unfair rules? Perhaps. But in an age of growing crowds and decreasing respect for hierarchy, these rules maintain a certain order in the water.

That being said, there is some basic protocol that is well-known to experienced surfers: the first surfer on a wave or the one closest to the curl has the right of way; always hang on to your board; help other surfers. All great surfing rules to live by, but subject only to the moral compass of each individual surfer. It’s shocking how often those simple customs are blatantly ignored, even mocked. While the first deals with right of way and does not address the issue of equipment and corresponding paddling capability (I’ll get to that in a minute), the second two are basic safety principles. Yet how often have you seen an ignorant surfer bail their board directly in front of other surfers? In front of you? When was the last time you witnessed one surfer helping another surfer at your local break?

The basics are important, and need to be respected. But there are other mores that may not be quite so obvious. In fact, you may not think about them at all, but they can greatly improve the overall vibe in a lineup for everyone:

• Give a wave
  That’s right, give someone a wave. There may be no single gesture that can stoke the mood in the water more, while simultaneously upping your karma points. And if someone else gives you a wave, turn around and give it back. The process is infectious. Owl Chapman said it best in the landmark filmSurfers: The Movie (1988), “Instead of (surfers) always taking, taking, taking—give a wave. Give a wave!”
• Stay out of people’s way
  If you’re paddling out and someone else is taking off, do what you have to do to get out of their way. Paddle into the pit if necessary. When waves are in short supply, there’s nothing more frustrating than having a “buoy” float right in the pocket of the wave, ruining a ride. Instead of always scratching for the shoulder in order to keep your hair dry, think about doubling back behind a surfer, and taking one on the head. Additionally, don’t paddle out in the line of fire. Take a look at where surfers are positioned in the water before you paddle out, and choose a path that’s going to keep you out of the way.
• Spot hostility, and avoid it
  If there’s a local heavy in the water, stay out of his way. If you’ve made a rookie mistake or wronged another surfer, apologize sincerely. If trouble still escalates, leave the water altogether. As the cliche goes, nobody wins in a fight—not you, the other surfer, nor anyone else in the water.
• Tread lightly
  A surf spot at any given time is a delicate ecosystem, full of complex moods, personalities, and actions. Understand how your presence impacts that environment, both positively and negatively. If you’re a visiting surfer, keep a low profile. Don’t bring a crowd with you. If you want to surf with others, bring a single friend. Better yet, surf alone. If the spot is already overcrowded, consider surfing elsewhere.
• Leave the mobile phone at home
  Not to be a technology curmudgeon, but mobile phones have contributed more to modern crowding than perhaps any other factor. However, as with most technology, it’s not the advancement itself that is the issue, but the mentality behind it. If you want to go surfing with your friends, then great—make a plan together. But if you simply feel the need to always alert your friends to good conditions that you’ve stumbled upon, avoid the temptation. Joel Turner (name changed), a San Francisco regular, puts it more succinctly. “If your buddy can’t get his lazy ass out of bed, then snooze = lose.” Remember, every phone call you make has the ability to exponentially increase the crowd, and that impacts both you and your fellow surfer.
• Surf locations and conditions that befit your ability
  A heads up to all you beginners and intermediates out there: You don’t need to be surfing the premier breaks, nor should you be. Paddling out in the middle of grinding Ocean Beach on a northwest swell or at the Point at Steamer Lane on a solid southwest swell is hardly going to ingratiate you with the local crew. Plus, you’ll be putting yourself and others at risk.
• Don’t hoard waves
  Just because you’re able to catch every wave that comes through, doesn’t mean that you should. If you’re at a beachbreak and you’ve gotten three or four rides in a row, let someone else have one for a change. If there’s a small group in the water, wait your turn. Don’t paddle around chasing every wave—pick one, and let the others go by. By the same token, when you do choose to go on a wave, make a commitment and go. Many novices don’t realize that by paddling for a wave and then pulling back at the last second, they’ve wasted a ride for someone else, which in turn clogs the lineup that much more. And all you “nine-footers” out there take note: there is nothing more contemptible than a longboarder who tries to paddle after every wave. Shame on you! 

I think the most difficult aspect of increasing crowds and additional novices in the lineup is this: the totally dedicated, passionate, and experienced surfer has sacrificed so much of their life to surfing, that the thought of some beginner who has put in neither the time nor the dedication taking away from their livelihood, their reward if you will, is almost unbearable. This explains why we see such fierce territorialism and so many altercations in the water. Outsiders, even other water sports enthusiasts, can’t possibly understand it, for in what other sport are careers, relationships, even families sacrificed solely for the pursuit of waves?

Not that we as a group should condone it, but why do you think a “local” completely blows his cool and verbally or physically assaults another surfer? Could it be that he has given up practically everything just to be at a particular spot, on a particularly good day, and to take off on a particularly good set wave? Only to have someone who is completely inexperienced—or more importantly, ignorant—stumble into the situation, get in the way, and ruin the wave that could have made the dedicated surfer’s day, maybe even their year. In no situation should violence be acceptable (except perhaps to protect oneself), but neither then should be intentional forms of disrespect.

The surfing environment acts as a mirror image of our society on land, which is often muddled with intolerance, impiety, and violence. Limited waves only serve to magnify this reflection. Lack of leadership from experienced surfers along with ignorance from neophytes only perpetuates the problem.

It’s been asked before, “Can surfing’s soul be saved?” I’m not sure about being “saved,” but here’s a crazy thought: how about starting with a little bit of courtesy in the water?

Give a wave. - DL

Related posts:

1. The Ecosystem of a Surf Spot
2. Surfing Lesson: How to Duck Dive
3. To Tow Or Not To Tow

Custom surfboard shaping is a crazy business—if you can even call it a business at all. Now I’m no authority on making boards. In fact, I’ve never shaped or glassed a board in my life. Ding repair is about the only time you’ll find me with hands coated in resin, and I hardly even do that anymore. But I do consider myself an expertconsumer of sorts, having ordered custom boards for about 12 years running. I’m enthralled by the whole process – the history and mysticism, the design discussions with the shaper, even the mere survival of the endeavor itself. Think about it: in what other sport do the athletes, irregardless of their ability level, regularly order individually-made equipment? Sure, a snowboarder or rock climber might become curious and experiment by tweaking their equipment a bit, but in the end most buy their gear off the rack. Skiers, tennis players, waterskiers, runners—heck, even pole vaulters (I checked) use mass manufactured equipment in all but the rarest of cases.

How is it then that a significant percentage of surfers still order custom boards from individual shapers? And that includes more than just elite members of the sport. Almost all surfers, from progressing beginners to advanced veterans, order at least some of their boards from custom boardmakers. I personally order two or three new boards per year and I have several friends who order upwards of five or more boards every year.

One explanation is that the surfboard manufacturing “industry” is extremely fragmented. While exact figures are difficult to come by, it’s estimated that the top five board manufacturers account for less than 20% of sales here in the U.S. It’s the small backyard shapers that make a vast majority of the boards sold, and further, surfers seem to prefer it this way. A fickle bunch, most of us who surf enjoy working with an individual or a small company, often located in our own community. Another cause is surfing’s inherently dynamic nature. Not only do you have an ever-changing playing field, but you also have a variety of individual styles that permeate the sport. Compare surfing to, for example, skiing. In skiing, most participants aspire to a nearly identical style, and they have for over 30 years. Indeed, the only factor to significantly alter that recently has been the advent of the parabolic ski, a major design breakthrough. But surfing style is much more varied, as well as constantly changing. The surfboard creation process has molded itself to support this fluidity.

The personalities of the shapers themselves perpetuate the mom and pop aspect of the business. The people who build the equipment do it for the love of the act, and not necessarily to make a lot of money. Thus, there remains a cottage industry, built on nothing more than a passion for design and craftsmanship. Prices stay low because the builders are willing to manufacture for moderate wages—they don’t need or demand much money, but rather seek the lifestyle that shaping affords them. Those who do want to cash in normally attempt to parlay their success in surfboard manufacturing into the clothing business in order to make the real green.

This will, of course, all change. It’s inevitable. There is money to be made, and wherever there is money to be made, the businessperson will come. We’re already seeing the beginnings of this with pre-fabricated boards coming from the likes of SurfTech and Boardworks to name a few. More will appear. Labor will be exported, and overseas factories will flourish. You can hardly blame anyone for this—just about every manufacturing business works the same. The only question really is how much custom business will remain after the foam dust settles.

For now however, consider yourself extremely lucky, because you’re in a surfboard “golden era:” you can purchase a custom-made board from any number of different shapers, built-to-order to your exact design specifications, all for well under $500—a steal. Imagine asking a craftsperson to build you a special snowboard or even a mountain bike. It would easily cost you thousands of dollars, and who knows how long to produce.

And yet despite all this, we surfers still bitch and moan over the cost of a new board, about how long it takes to get one shaped, and regarding how quickly a board wears out (or breaks). Surfers can be selfish bastards, even towards those who create the very boards they ride. True, the materials currently used are not the most durable, but they are in place primarily in response to the demand from the boardrider for constant change and refinement. Many surfers don’t even want boards beyond a few years old, preferring instead to try new shapes and designs.

That being the case, the boardmaker doesn’t exactly represent the model of democracy. Why is it that no matter how a board turns out, a surfer simply cannot challenge the shaper? It’s true. A hand-made board is so intensely personal, it’s as if the surfer feels fortunate to be getting the boardmaker’s time and skill, and is therefore afraid to rock the boat. I suppose then that the custom board can come at a price, and that price is closely tied to the creator’s ego. As merely a client, the surfer is relegated to passive status, with the ultimate decision-making authority bestowed upon the boardmaker. This holds true regardless of whether or not the shaper screws up. Example: I recently went to pick up two brand new shortboards from the boardmaker I’ve been working with for over ten years. Apparently there was some confusion over logo color (even though I order all of my boards plain white with yellow and black logos), and his glasser mistakenly put lavender logos on the boards. That’s right—lavender. But did I complain? No, I just put my tail between my legs and walked out the door—after thanking him profusely, of course. I do not take lightly the potential consequences of voicing my displeasure: mistakes, reduced priority, and sudden price increases. For while the surfer-shaper relationship might be a business one, at heart it still falls under “bro” status: you do for them and they will do for you in return. Which is why, as many who’ve been there will attest, a timely six-pack left at the shaping bay door can lubricate the wheels of production quite nicely.

So what exactly is the point to all this? Well for one, if you’re not currently getting your boards custom-made, you should be. You pay roughly the same amount as you do for a new board off the rack, and yet you get to work with a professional and get exactly what you want. Plus, it’s fun. If you’re not going to be making the boards yourself, working with a knowledgeable shaper is an integral part of the entire surfing experience. Be sure and let them do their job and shape you a board based on their expertise—don’t just go to them with measurements. Two, support your local shaper. You’re fortunate to have them around in the first place, and you may wake up one day soon to find them replaced by a manufacturing plant. And finally, when dealing with an individual boardmaker, try and remember that the whole mini-industry is an inexact science, delicately balanced by good will, social capital, and a bit of commerce thrown in for good measure.

Get some waves. - DL

Author’s note: To read more about SurfTech and the potential threat they pose to the custom shaping industry, see Ben Marcus’ article in the Santa Cruz Sentinel.

Related posts:

1. Two Boards from Wedding Stolen in San Francisco on Sunday, May 4, 2008
2. Meet Shaper Xanadu in San Francisco on Saturday, March 29, 2008
3. How do I get in better surf shape for a summer surf trip?

Stand Up?
Thanks to all who took the time to respond to the Stand article, both positively and negatively. The comments ranged from strong anti-bodyboard rhetoric from stand-up surfers, perhaps unclear on the intent of the piece, to personal threats from enraged “spongers,” who also may have misinterpreted my “opinionated” stance.

The aim of the piece was to speak to the blatant prejudices that still exist within surfing, and to question why they continue. I put myself in the middle of the debate to further show the inherent hypocrisy in many of these views. It was not my intention to “add fuel to the fire” as some of you indicated, but rather bring to light sentiments that persist in modern lineups, even though they are rarely discussed.

Taking a quick poll of the responses, you might be interested to know that approximately half were from bodyboarders, and of those, about three fourths were negative (an understatement) with the rest neutral. The remainder of the feedback was mostly from stand-up surfers, who either praised the story or at least acknowledged discrimination. A few kneeboarders chimed in (yes, they are still out there), standing up, er, rather, “kneeling” for their rights. There were also a few surf kayakers sprinkled into the mix, pleading for me to take a look at the “current” state of the sport.

Numerous readers pointed out that views vary significantly depending on location, both internationally and regionally, and that California seems to be one of the least tolerant areas in terms of alternative forms of wave riding. Several of you also called attention to, rightfully so, my gross emission of paipo boards (the original “bodyboards”) when discussing Hawaiian surfing history. Thanks also to those of you who signed me up for several “educational” adult sites, as I continue to enjoy entries into my inbox on a daily basis.

For my part, I learned the following in the wake of the article:

1) “Spongers” don’t mind being called spongers.
2) Riding prone on a paipo board is arguably one of the earliest forms of wave riding.
3) Longboards are viewed as problematic in many of today’s lineups.
4) Bodysurfing generally commands the most respect among alternative forms of wave riding.
5) Kneeboarders don’t seem to care what anyone thinks.

Sweet November
The run of quality surf in Northern California from the first week of November through the first week of December was nothing short of extraordinary. Those of you in San Francisco know that we were particularly blessed, with day after day of overhead swell and clean, offshore conditions. At one point I counted 14 straight days of good to excellent conditions in The City, and during the approximate 5 week stretch, there was an estimated 30 days of surfable conditions (not that I was counting). Santa Cruz also received its share of clean November surf, most of it centered north of town. Low afternoon sun, golden light, glassy green-blue walls. Ah, California. Sweet, sweet California.

For all the focus in surfing on crowds, localism, discrimination and the like, all it takes is an extended run of surf like this to show us how it can be – how it could be—if there were always plenty of waves to go around. Over Thanksgiving weekend for example, I heard laughter in the lineup, watched surfers stop and chat with each other on the beach, and actually held meaningful conversations in the water with friends and strangers alike. There was a noticeable lack of urgency to take, take, take. Instead, waves were observed and given, encouragement offered. At times I enjoyed spectating as much as I did riding waves, but that’s always easier to say when your arms are rubbery and your knees weak from watery indulgence. Such is life when you already have 50 waves to your credit in a given week.

Good Vibrations
As many of you know, vibes in the water can make or break a session. Every surfer gives off their own energy during a surf, some of it positive, some of it negative. That energy can range from subtle selfishness to genuine stoke to blatant disregard for other surfers. It also greatly impacts others in the lineup. Case in point: early in the fall I was surfing an overhead south swell with fun peaks forming up and down the beach. I was enjoying a pleasant session, lucking into several good waves in a row that came directly to me without requiring much paddling. On my fourth wave or so another surfer who was well on the shoulder but still paddling for the wave nonetheless, actually swore at me as I took off and surfed by him. He yelled f*** you with as much animosity as I’ve ever encountered in the water. Paddling back out, I asked him politely if I’d done something wrong to upset him so much. When he didn’t have a response to that, I asked him kindly if he could please either change his attitude, or take it someplace else. He continued to grouse and I attempted to ignore him, but the damage had been done. The fun in my session had been sucked away.

I try and remember that incident any time I might feel frustrated or if I’m having a bad surf. It’s so easy to pass that frustration along to the person next to you and take them down with you. But here’s a potential cure: try smiling in the face of frustration. Smiles are infectious, and can break a cycle of bad vibes. If the smile doesn’t help change your own session, it will at least help brighten someone else’s.

Get some waves. – DL

(12/23/02)

Related posts:

1. It Doesn’t Count Unless You Stand
2. Time To Surf
3. Surf-Quirky

The other day I was out surfing fun, overhead waves on a relatively uncrowded afternoon, when I dropped in on a bodyboarder. It wasn’t a big deal, as I immediately kicked out when I saw he was trimming behind me. Still, I dropped in on him knowing full well he was going on the wave, and I did so without giving it a second thought. When I reflected on the incident later, I realized that I wouldn’t have done the same thing had he been a stand-up surfer. It was as if I was unconsciously making a statement that I was not going to give the body boarder the benefit of the doubt on that wave—or on any wave for that matter.

Traditionally, there’s always been a great deal of debate over what constitutes “true surfing.” Specifically, proponents of less-orthodoxed manners of wave-riding—bodyboarding, knee boarding, surf kayaking, and other forms of riding waves—have long lobbied for equal status in the surfing lineup. But save a few exceptions, they have always been denied.

Why is it we stand-up surfers discriminate against other forms of wave riding? And don’t sit there and try to tell me we don’t. Let’s be honest—when was the last time you welcomed with equal respect a bodyboarder at your local break? Hooted at one after a particularly good ride? I thought so. If you’re at all like me, and I suspect you are, you don’t like them, period. They clog lineups, require minimal skill to ride, and can turn and take off at the last second on a wave without the risk of falling. Surf kayakers, for their part, are able to catch waves dozens of yards further out than stand-up surfers, are less maneuverable and therefore represent an increased collision risk, and just plain look dorky (okay, that’s a cheap shot—how about “aesthetically unpleasing?”).

I realize I am likely offending many of you out there who use alternative wave riding vehicles. But I simply point out what is a commonly held opinion, and once more I’m not saying that it’s right. Just ask any surfer how they feel about the issue, and if they are honest, they will undoubtedly say the same. And for those of you surfers out there who think you don’t discriminate, think long and hard before you proclaim saint status. Here’s an easy way to test yourself: imagine surfing your favorite secret spot with just yourself and a friend. The surf is firing, and the two of you are trading waves, having a ball. Suddenly, a car pulls up, and three “surfers” jump out. Would you prefer they be bodyboarders as opposed to stand-up surfers? How about surf kayakers? Knee boarders? I’m willing to bet that nine out of ten of you would rather they be other surfers, and that if they weren’t you would treat them differently in the water.

The surfing media is noticeably silent on the issue. They never come out and actually say it, but when was the last time you saw a photo of a bodyboarder or a knee boarder in a mainstream surfing publication? With their silence, the magazines and video producers have made their own judgments as to what is “surfing.” But they also realize that if they were to come out and say anything specific, they would risk alienating a portion of their audience that may not ride traditional surfboards .

This merely represents more evidence of the exclusivity inherent in modern surfing. Elitist bastards are we. I mean, along with many other surfers I know, I too first learned to ride waves on a bodyboard. So how is it that I now look at my prone counterpart as an invading alien, as opposed to a tribal brother? Are we not all wave riding brethren, sharing waves equally and enjoying the ocean’s beauty? Absolutely not seems to be the answer, and for that we are all to blame.

But perhaps there is more to it than simple ethnocentricity. If one were to look at the history of surfing, the earliest depictions of wave riding involved outrigger canoes in Polynesia, reed boats in Peru, and kayak-like craft in Alaska. But these for the most part were working craft, and it was the Polynesians who can lay claim to evolving surfing into a leisure activity, a sport originally reserved for Hawaiian royalty. These kings and queens were not, however, riding body boards, nor were they riding on their knees. They were standing, and much of the skill and grace depicted through historical imagery and prose centers around stand-up surfing. Is it too much to assume then that our modern-day prejudices may stem from these original depictions of surfing, where royalty was revered for their skill and acumen in standing upright on a surfboard?

Advocates will counter and point to well-respected surfing luminaries such as Mike Stewart, George Greenough, and Tom Morey as examples of famous wave riders who did not stand but are still held in very high regard (although it should be noted that all three did/do partake in stand-up surfing as well). That may be true, but they also represent exceptions to the rule. They were pioneers in bodyboarding and knee boarding, yet despite all of their accomplishments, even they could not push other wave riding forms to a place of broad acceptance and respect.

Like it or not, there is an unspoken code that prevails amongst surfers around the globe, one that has been shaped by surf-culture norms that have evolved from the early days of surfing. It is a sentiment that is not necessarily right or just, but it still exists nonetheless. If you listen closely enough, you can hear it whispered down at the beach, or in a car full of surfers with boards on top, or at the local theater watching the latest surf film: It Doesn’t Count Unless You Stand.

Get some waves. - DL

(11/11/02)

Related posts:

1. Standing Up, Good Surf, and Smiles
2. Surfing Lesson: How to Duck Dive
3. To Tow Or Not To Tow

A recent trip to the Action Sports Retailer trade show in San Diego reinforced the premise. Women’s surfing and lifestyle clearly dominated the show floor, evolving the incumbent bikini-clad, runway-model-dominated display to one that included the likes of companies like Surf Chick, Surf Diva, Burly Girls, Water Girl USA, and Roxy. All of the larger surfwear companies had separate booths or areas dedicated to their women’s lines, including Quiksilver, Billabong, O’Neil, and Rip Curl. For perhaps the first time in recent surfing memory, the buffed and polished behinds of the Reef Girls were forced to compete for attention with the likes of the buffed and athletic Roxy Girls.

What’s this, a shift in the predominantly male surfing order? You bet. And beyond just the fact that women are surfing more than ever before, they are bringing with them a much different ethos into the lineup. You see, for most women, surfing is a communal activity. Imagine that: surfing with your friends—what a concept! For while women are taking to the surf in droves, they are replacing the archaic male “lone wolf” mentality with an altogether ground-breaking notion: fun. That’s right—they actually have the nerve to bring joy into the lineup. Camaraderie in surfing is not only an allure, but often times a requirement for women, particularly as they are learning. This has in turn led to an explosion of surf schools, as well as all-female surf camps and resorts (even SurfPulse is not immune—check out current advertiser www.girlsadventureout.com). Heck, there’s even a “surf spa” to cater towards women’s desire to be pampered, while at the same time learning how to surf (www.keleasurfspa.com). If that doesn’t signal a shift in attitudes towards surfing, I’m not sure what does.

It hasn’t always been so. Back in the 50′s and 60′s, through the Gidget and Beach Blanket Bingo eras, women were more or less resigned to the beach, to look good in their bikinis, and to cheer the valiant men on out in the water. In the 70′s, an elite group of female surfers emerged, led by Margo Oberg, and made their mark on the professional surfing scene. Problem was they were playing by the men’s rules, and unable to adequately establish their own identity. Much like with women’s tennis at the time, the female surfers were labeled as masculine women playing a man’s game. Right or wrong, this masculine image didn’t sit well with the general public, and the sport’s popularity quickly subsided.

It wasn’t until the late 80′s when women’s surfing emerged once again, thrust into the spotlight by an athletic, attractive Floridian surfer named Lisa Anderson. She actually had the gall to wear board shorts instead of the bikini standard at the time, and influenced an entire generation of wahine surfers. For the first time in its history, female surfing was not only cool, but it could also be feminine.

Today, however, a whole new culture is emerging within women’s surfing: surfing for fun. While previous rises in popularity revolved primarily around professional surfing, today’s surfer-girl to be isn’t necessarily aspiring to be a traveling pro. Rather, she may just want to go down to the local beach to ride a longboard, hang out with her friends, and enjoy the ocean. This represents a 180 degree shift in both mentality and image for women’s surfing. Instead of the previously serious, often very aggressive representation of women in the surf, today’s portrayals are centered simply on women having fun.

Quiksilver’s Roxy Girl brand and Randy Hild, the man who created it, can claim a good deal of responsibility for this dramatic change in image. The Roxy brand has led many women down the less competitive, more playful path to surfing. Think San Onofre on a Sunday afternoon with 3-4 foot rollers easing in to shore, music playing on the beach, and friends hanging out. This type of atmosphere resonates much more with women than the harsh, male pecking-order-laden, stink-eyed staring environments that are so common in many modern surfing lineups.

Indeed, women may in fact be bringing back a care free spirit to mainstream surfing that has largely been lacking over the last 20 years or so. The competitive nature that has become the status quo in the surf today—the taking versus sharing, the “me” versus “you” mentality—is the very same frame of mind that until now has kept most women out of the water. But with critical mass, women are suddenly breaking down that paradigm, even if only at select locations. And it will be a snowball effect: the more women who are out there surfing, the more kinship will be felt by their fellow wahine, which will in turn broaden the appeal of surfing to more and more women.

So what does this mean for the surfing lineup of the future? As female surfers become more prolific, it may signal the end of many of the hostile attitudes that are so prevalent in lineups today. Simply put, women just don’t dig it, and once their numbers are up in the water, they probably won’t put up with it, either.

Hopefully, we will also see an overall shift in mindset with surfing, as women help bring back some much needed exuberance to the sport. The male-dominated elitism that has plagued surfing for decades is showing signs of cracking, as more and more women enter the lineup and effectively claim, “So what’s the big deal?”

The big deal is this: women are changing the face of surfing, quickly. No longer will the waves be the exclusive domain of the male-dominated mentality. And for those of you out there who still enjoy the spoils of an aggressive, competitive pecking order: beware—the girls are coming, and they’re here to have fun.

Get some waves. – DL

Want to get involved in the local women’s surfing community? Visit the Wahines/Girls Only forum in SurfPulse Lounge.

(9/17/02)

Related posts:

1. 3rd Annual NorCal Women’s Surf Fest Recap & Results
2. Roxy Surf Night in San Francisco on Wednesday, April 30, 2008
3. 7th Annual Kahuna Kupuna Classic Surf Contest Fundraiser in Pacifica on Saturday, July 8, 2006

The reality: the property you buy is disputed by neighbors or former land owners or, worse yet, the “owner” who sold you the property has already sold the same land to two other buyers. The caretaker you hire to look after the place, resenting an invasion of foreigners into his town, moves his family on the property and claims “squatters’ rights.” Then, in a few years, your idealistic uncrowded surf break becomes a well-known international surf destination, and the surrounding town transforms into a full-on surf ghetto, complete with overcrowding, crime, drugs, and fights between locals and foreigners. Such are the pitfalls of “surf imperialism” within the third world.

When Hernan Cortes first landed on the shores of the Americas over five hundred years ago, he was originally greeted with open arms by Montezuma and the Aztec kingdom. The Spaniards for their part brought with them the wonderful gifts of disease, Christianity, and brute force to bestow upon both the Mayan and Aztec Indians. Little did the Indians know at the time what fate awaited them, as Cortes and his army conquered the Aztec empire just a few short years later in a brutal bloody war.

While the Conquistadors may have been searching for their version of wealth and power, the traveler today searches for riches in the form of unspoiled beauty. A fundamental law in our modern travel-happy world: desirable destinations will be discovered, and then colonized by paradise-seeking imperialists of the economically advantaged order. Nowhere is this more apparent than with surf destinations.

I visited a fledgling surf spot down in Latin America recently. You know the one: warm water, clean uncrowded waves, friendly people. I’ve been visiting the tiny fishing village for the last ten years or so. However, as with most desirable surf havens in modern times, development has taken root within this unassuming community, and is quickly transforming it into a tourist-friendly enclave. What was once an isolated, hard-to-reach outpost reserved for only the most hardcore traveling surfers is now a worldwide attraction complete with “surf camps,” restaurants, surf tours, boats, and other amenities. It’s now well publicized through magazines and web sites, easy to get to, and frequented by the surfing masses. The town itself is currently teetering on the brink of full-scale development. How it evolves from here—sleepy eco-tourism location with moderately crowded waves or hectic international resort with rampant, uncontrolled development—has yet to be determined. However, one thing is for certain: it will change, and most likely not for the better.

Surfers themselves are modern day explorers. The singular motivation? To discover high-quality, deserted waves. Perhaps no other group with the possible exception of ocean sailors is as motivated to explore remote, uncharted coastline and waters. The reward: to realize hidden, undiscovered treasure in the form of waves. Your own private surf hideaway, reserved for you and your closest friends. But be sure to keep the secret. For with today’s global network of surfers connected together like never before by modern communication, all it takes is one whisper, one little slip in a dark cantina over a beer, and the cover is blown. The wheels will be set in motion: first the disclosure of the name, next the location, and soon the first visit by others. Every new caller then tells a few friends who are “sworn to secrecy” (oh, how many times we have heard that one before). Eventually, a magazine or video producer gets wind of the spot, and the gold rush is on. It makes no difference that the publication keeps the name anonymous. Word gets out through the international surf network, the original “coconut wires” that are now lubricated by Internet, mobile phone, and fax. Photos and video merely serve as physical evidence—the “goods” so to speak.

Enterprising locals and/or foreigners then begin to set up small businesses, such as restaurants and lodging. These amenities, in turn, open the area up to a whole new set of vacationing surfers, and the entire process accelerates rapidly. Next come the surf camps, surf tours, advertising, web sites, additional media exposure, and voila—you have the potential for the full-blown surf ghetto.

But what actually causes a particular location to develop into a downwardly spiraling surf barrio, as opposed to merely a well-known, pleasant, if not crowded, surfing destination? I have visited and watched over the years many pristine areas develop for the worse: Puerto Escondido, Tamarindo, and Los Cabos to name a few. Although every area has its own unique characteristics that affect its development, there are some common factors that contribute to both positive and negative growth within a surfing environment.

First and perhaps foremost, the overall quality of the wave greatly impacts development. Indeed, for surfers, this is the original draw of the location to begin with. For one who does not surf, it’s hard to imagine the undeniable appeal of one “great” wave over another. How could there really be that much difference, this from the non-surfer, in surfing locations? Yet there are remote waves that become legend in the surfer psyche even before they are visited. Power, size, shape, consistency, plus any number of intangible qualities, all combine to produce an attraction that can border on obsession. A world-class surfing location will entice surfers from around the planet, who are drawn to match their skills against a wave that reportedly “delivers the goods.” The wave will dictate the amount and type of surfers who travel to any given location, dramatically affecting the pace and nature of an area as it changes.

In addition, the abundance or accessibility of other surf in the area can add or detract from the primary surf spot and surrounding area. Other decent waves nearby serve as a safety valve for overcrowding, and significantly ease tensions. Less accomplished surfers, for example, might have options at other, inferior waves in the area that may even be better suited to their ability. The promise of further exploration can also relieve pressure at the primary spot, as the more adventurous will continue to seek out remote locales. An example of a destination without such a safety valve might be Lagundi Bay on the tiny Indonesian island of Nias. Although there are other waves in the area, they are difficult to reach once camped out at this tiny community. The wave only holds a limited number of surfers, and is reportedly inconsistent. Overcrowding, which has become a problem at Lagundi Bay and its surrounding village, has led to increased crime, pollution, and tension in the water at this once idyllic outpost.

The local population, to the extent there is one, also influences the destiny of a particular locale. Whether or not there is a local surfing population may shape the way foreign surfers are treated, as well as their status within the community. If there are originally no local surfers, you can be certain that once they see the funny foreigners playing in the waves, it won’t be long before the first locals begin experimenting in the water. As you might imagine, the revelation that their particular coastline is in fact a desirable destination to an international sub-culture can come as quite a curiosity to many third world fishing villages. Locals can of course also plan, manage, or restrict growth, for better or for worse. In many cases, it is the lack of planning or the transfer of planning to outside forces that results in less-than-optimal development.

The early pioneers of a remote surf discovery greatly contribute to the quality of the development process. If, for example, Cortes and his men had been of, say, a slightly different disposition (i.e., not imperialistic murderers), development within central Mexico might have taken a dramatically different turn. So, too, goes international surf discovery. The first surfers to arrive in a strange new land leave lasting impressions both with the locals as well as the surfers who are to follow. If the early explorers decide to settle in the newfound area, their presence and demeanor is that much more influential with respect to the inevitable changes that are to come.

Finally, the attraction of an area to non-surfers or for non-surfing activities imposes additional pressures to develop. Expanding a site’s appeal to a broader audience only serves to accelerate growth. In fact most surfing regions that see out of control growth are ones that also appeal to the non-surfer. The Kuta Beach area on Bali for instance, with its beautiful beaches and exotic culture, has allured surfers, travelers, and tourists alike. Amid all the trappings of modern-day western tourism, many believe the area represents a true paradise lost.

With the inevitable development of pristine third world surfing areas, it seems the only way to protect many of them from devastation may be to restrict access. Although this ultimately goes contrary to the surf explorer’s code, the few examples of restricted access have resulted in protection of both the surfing resources as well as the surrounding environment. Tavarua, Fiji is the marquee case study, restricting access to the island’s reefs and waves to paying guests only. The resort is expensive by most surfers’ standards, yet this economic model has allowed the business to in turn pour a substantial amount of money back into the Fijian community. This represents a far cry from the more common scenario of pure exploitation of people and assets.

The rub, of course, is that this type of model limits the use of resources to a select few, based primarily on economics—the traditional public versus private access debate. Golf courses and ski resorts also “protect” the areas they promote for recreation, yet exclude large portions of the population by virtue of cost. Surfing was born in—and has long operated within—the public domain, and one can only hope it can continue to do so. But with the rampant development surfers can bring to an otherwise sleepy, third world coastline, the question remains whether the search for perfect, uncrowded surf ultimately results in more harm than good. Ironically, while the pursuit of surfing nirvana may in fact be an innocent ideal, in mass it often results in the destruction of the very same unspoiled paradise so highly coveted by the international surf traveler.

Get some waves. – DL

[Author's note: For an expanded discussion on the topic, please see Steve Barilotti's story, "Lost Horizons: Surf Colonialism in the 21st Century" in this month's Surfer's Journal (Volume 11 Number 3). The article offers an excellent essay on the socio-economic impacts of modern-day surf travel. This DTL column was originally written prior to publication of the Surfer's Journal article.]

(8/13/02)

Related posts:

1. The Ecosystem of a Surf Spot
2. The Ethics of Surf Camps
3. Surf-Quirky

In any event, three of my personal favorites are the 70′s classic Big Wednesday, the 1987 surfing sojourn North Shore, and the crime thriller Point Break, released in 1991. All contain endearing qualities, from memorable characters to intriguing plots. And all without doubt include some corny portrayals of surf lore as well. When examining these three exceptional, er, entertaining films, a question arises, one that has perplexed me for years, as it likely has you as well. I speak of course of the eternal dilemma that surely resides in all surfers’ minds: who would win in a match up between celluloid surfing luminaries Bodhi/Patrick Swayze of Point Break, Chandler/Gregory Harrison of North Shore, and Matt Johnson/Jan-Michael Vincent of Big Wednesday?

On the surface perhaps it seems an easy question. Put them all in a ring (or in the water) and see who comes out on top. However, aside from the fact that we can’t actually do that, on closer inspection the quandary becomes a bit more complex. Who surfs better? Who’s tougher? Who would win in a hand-to-hand fight? Who does better with the ladies? Who, for God’s sake, is the better actor?

Although this would seem a very subjective exercise, I believe there are some absolutes here, some points of view that one would be hard pressed to dispute. For instance, of the three, Bodhi is by far the biggest risk taker, while Chandler is the most experienced and, therefore, the wisest. One must also take into account different time periods, as well as differing stylistic preferences. For example, should Matt Johnson really be penalized for the wearing of wide lapels and oversized collars in the latter half of Big Wednesday, or is he purely a fashion victim of his own era? Finally, can one judge the character/actor based upon the overall quality of the film? Or should that character be judged purely on their performance irregardless of the merits of the movie? Despite these inherent challenges, below I attempt to tackle the burning question of “who is the baddest” in the cinematic surfing world.

Surfing Ability
Bodhi of Point Break rips, and we also watch him charge the big stuff during the “50 year storm.” The problem here is Patrick Swayze paddles like a ballet dancer (which he was by the way) who’s afraid of getting his arms wet. Plus, he does dig a rail and tumble down the face of a monster in the final scene of the film. Chandler in North Shore is a pure “soul” surfer, and he’s out there charging when Sunset and Waimea are breaking. In addition, Gregory Harrison reportedly does surf, and displays basic competence on a longboard during scenes without the aid of his stunt double. But it’s Matt Johnson and Jan-Michael Vincent who are the purest talents here. Matt demonstrates his innate surfing ability by ripping on a wave while he’s too drunk to stand on the beach, and his final wave in Big Wednesday will go down in history as one of the greatest single rides of all time. That combined with Jan-Michael Vincent’s longboarding proficiency gives him and his character the edge. Advantage: Matt Johnson.

“Mano a Mano”
Chandler is more or less a pacifist, which isn’t going to help him much in a fistfight. He’s also got a few years on the others. Matt Johnson, while showing a natural propensity to get into drunken brawls, gets his ass kicked by Jack Barlow, a slight, if not effeminate, lifeguard. Bodhi, on the other hand, shows us on numerous occasions his ability to fight and fight well, often using the formidable Johnny Utah (Keanu Reeves) as his personal punching bag. In addition, Bodhi is pretty handy with a firearm, so there’s no real contest here. Advantage: Bodhi.

Character
The character of Chandler, although believable, feels slightly contrived. Too many clichés follow this guru shaper around the North Shore backdrop. Patrick Swayze does his best to make Bodhi as profound as possible, but the depiction of an adrenaline-junky mystic also feels somewhat forced by the filmmakers. Matt Johnson however is the real deal. A care-free youth struggling with the transition to adulthood, we watch him battle with life’s many challenges including friendship, war, death, and overall responsibility. And through it all, he still manages to hold onto surfing as a common thread. Advantage: Matt Johnson

Spirituality
The bodhi tree, according to Buddhists, is the tree beneath which one finds enlightenment. Bodhi substantiates his namesake by spinning mystical tales of giant swells, as well as meditating on the beach prior to surfing. But Chandler is a recognized guru on the North Shore of Oahu, one of surfing’s true spiritual centers. He speaks with such calm and wisdom that it forces others to listen. Matt Johnson, for all of his icon status, seems to find his spirituality at the bottom of a bottle of booze. Advantage: Draw between Chandler and Bodhi.

“Woman-izing”
Our trio all emit hints of sexual prowess, yet surprisingly none of the films highlight much, if any, of their exploits with women. Chandler has long been married, and so can’t really compete for the crown here. Bodhi for his part is seemingly celibate, preferring his relationship with the ocean to that of the fairer sex. And, although we see his ex-girlfriend is quite attractive, she has in fact dumped him for a young FBI agent. This leaves us with Matt Johnson, who ends up marrying his long-time high school sweetheart— hardly a picture of promiscuity. But he does manage to have sex with his girlfriend in the back seat of a moving car, while at the same time checking the surf along northern Baja. Advantage: Matt Johnson.

Acting Ability
All three deliver excellent performances, and carry their respective films in terms of overall acting talent. Gregory Harrison plays a believable North Shore shaper, and despite being saddled with some tough lines (“Go ahead, go shred.”), he generally pulls it off. But this is Gregory Harrison, king of the bad made-for-TV-movie, and it’s difficult to take him seriously. Jan-Michael Vincent is excellent in his portrayal of Matt Johnson, a care-free surfing icon who struggles with the prospect of growing up. However, Vincent’s legacy of terrible television series (think “Airwolf”) hardly adds to his credibility. Patrick Swayze delivers a surprisingly engaging performance as Bodhi, and despite the fact that he clearly does not surf, manages to provide what I feel is the greatest depth to his respective surfing character. Although I realize he may be a controversial choice, I give the nod here to Swayze. Advantage: Bodhi.

And The Winner Is . . .
In a close contest, surfing icon Matt Johnson, with his natural surfing ability and depth of character, edges out the mystic Bodhi, with Chandler finishing a distant third.

Get some waves. – DL

Related posts:

1. Surf Film/SF Frozen Film Festival on Friday, July 10, 2009
2. Surf Film One California Day in San Francisco from October 4 to 7, 2007
3. Surf Documentary Archy the Movie Opens SF Frozen Film Festival on Friday, July 11, 2008