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Out of focus and… let me explain

I am trying to get a submission, due by Monday, 5pm, for a mural project at the Port Townsend skate park. I want the gig. Serious. Part of this process involves getting samples of work I’ve done in the past. Portfolio stuff. And I have done murals. The. problem is gettiing the photos from wherever they’re stored, or taking new ones, which I spent several hours doing. Like, yesterday. But, other photos are somewhere else, some improperly or unlabeled thumbdrive, or somewhere on the laptop that I share, cloud-wise, with Dru (I’m assuming you get this- I have a physical, hand-me-down laptop).

So, after sending photos from my phone to my email, then downloading them to “Erwin’s folder,” I spent way too much time writing clever and explanatory stuff about each one, the plan being that my daughter will make them properly presentable in this modern world. Okay, but then I had to go look at a project in my real life, painting contractor role. That took time. I have other photos I desperately want and frustratingly cannot find.

But I did find this one; so far not posted here; Trish and me in the last century. But it was small. I diid the copy and paste thing, and was offered, on this site, the opportunity to enlarge it. So I did. But it came out a bit, um, thinner-ish than the original, elongated. I’m fine with that, but Trisha’s eyes are a delightful shade of sometimes green on the blue side, sometimes blue on the green side; always kind of… piercing; the kind of eyes that, looking into them, there’s no way to lie. I’ve tried. Doesn’t work. My eyes are blue, blue with red where the white should be. I only explain this because the photo didn’t capture these subtleties. Now, Trisha’s hair being a bit on the orange side; that’s kind of accurate; something mentioned by my three brothers… once each. Maybe.

Trish is recovering from the horror show that cancer can push people into; way tougher than I thought it could be, and way more than a cure probably should be, but she is progressing. Her strength is coming back, slowly. Her hair is coming back. Kind of orange. Orange-ish.

I feel more than a little apologetic about how unappreciative I have been with the struggles others have gone through in similar battles. Dru has been critical in her mother’s battle, as Trish was in hers. Our ex daughter-in-law, Karrie, came over from Idaho for this long weekend to help the transition back from Trisha’s hospital stay. Dru is going to Ireland on Tuesday for her cousin Emma’s wedding, and the main caretaker will be… me; pushy, annoying, rough-when-lifting, impatient… me.

Pretty scary! It’ll be fine. Something else we’ll get through.

Anyway and obviously, I’ll do a lot to not go back to searching and working on the submission. I do love a deadline. That. extra boost when something has to, has to be done. I am anticipating writing about my street cred when it comes to skateboarding. Yeah, it’ll show up here. Thanks for checking out realsurfers. Check back soon.

erwin@realsurfers.net realsurfersdotnet on the Instagram.

Surf Dreams and Other, Non-Surf Dreams

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, mind surfing, northwest surfing, northwest surfing blog,, old surfers, real surfers, writings of Erwin Dence

Since I’ve been hearing about other people’s surf experiences more than enjoying the planning and anticipation, the search, the wait, the finding and enjoying a session way better or less better than imagined; the chance to be the one bragging, gloating about, or merely and factually reporting on the score; all o which means. I’m dreaming more than realizing, I think I should add a page for dreams; a dream journal if you will. I you won’t, I still will.

I’ve had so many dreams in which I am frustrated in getting to the beach. Normal, I guess. I have had numerous dreams in which I’m driving through woods and swamps on crappy, one lane roads, only to get to a section that is. impassible or requires driving over a log bridge. Imagine 112 anywhere west of Joyce. I had two of these category dreams last night, sort of connected. In the first, there’s a giant cement structure to my left, with, some unseen shotgun rider explaining the surf, also unseen, is on the other side. “Keep driving.” Ine second. dream, I’m trying to pull into a muddy, dark road, and there are headlights coming down and around a corner. Lots of speeding vehicles. I gun it, the copilot screaming, go up and around a corner, and… and, and, there’s a school bus, red lights on. Stopped.

Wake up.

I do self analyze the dreams before they vanish like morning mist. Yeah. Fucked up. I’ll keep my assessments semi confidential. YOU’RE WELCOME.

BUT, here’s my inaugural piece: II can explain, sort of, the line throughs: I was using a different computer, tried to save it to a thumb drive, and then, out of nowhere…

IN DREAMS

  In dreams, it seems, we are attacked by the monsters we blink away when we are awake. Dream demons come from the shadows, from the hidden spaces, the windowless rooms, the caverns and the taverns, the back offices; they emerge from the deep woods, the grown over pools, the  long and lonesome highways, places we know they inhabit; but the dream dwellers also appear at the laundromat, at the market; grinning ghouls, leering carnies, hawkers and grifters, preachers and politicians, and… most frightening, we are joined, greeted, casually, in some public place, by people we no longer know, people long deceased.

These specters are not frightened; we should be. We are the strangers in this realm, dropping in and shaking ourselves out.

Alternate world, or overlapping orbit, or separate track in our overwhelmed brains, we are told that dreams give us the opportunity to work out problems our conscious minds cannot. Work out, possibly; solve, probably not.

In dreams, we sometimes believe we have solved… something; only to realize, as the gauze and the glisten vanish, that the shadows are still occupied, our problems are still real. And, in the open, in the light, one terror remains; some thought that something so disturbing, so contrary to our daytime logic, is real.

I do, in real life, have a barn. We once, years ago, had pigs. It is not true that we have pigs in the barn, hungry, squealing; it just, sometimes, in a certain half-light, half awake, not fighting other ghosts, seems as if they are real and squealing for me. And I had better hurry.

My novel, “SWAMIS” is done and I have done nothing toward selling it, but I will. I mean, it’s been years getting to this point. PUBLISHERS, AGENTS, and, really, anyone who wants to reach out on surf or any related issues, it’s erwin@realsurfers.net Not editors for hire, however. No offense.

I do, occasionally, put out stuff on YouTube. realsurfersdotnet I DO SPEND/WASTE too much. time on the site, meaning, yes, I like and comment, and then. look if I get a response. Because I do, my commentary obviously. clever, I. spend/waste more time. Or maybe. it’s spend/waste/invest time.

TRISH UPDATE: 21 days in the hospital, she’s back at our daughter’s (DRU) house, slowly, slowly, eveer so slowly getting better. There’s a formula for how much time it takes to recover from hospital stays. It’s more than one to one. AND I’ve been told to be patient. Numerous times by numerous folks, Trish foremost among them. Trish is determined. I’m optimistic, I’m ust not all that… patient.

I ALSO need to do a page of my art stuff. Yeah, yeah, I will. Soon. Really. Patience.

Thanks for checking out realsurfers; hope you overcome the obstacles and get some tube time.

Lots of Photos, Some Explanations

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, northwest surfing blog,, old surfers, real surfers, surf adventures, Uncategorized, writings of Erwin Dence

CHRIS and MEGAN

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Actual text from Chris after the surf/yoga/actual honeymoon to some resort-like place in Central America: “Okay, here’s your dispatch from the field. The crowds you feared are a non-issue. I’ve had multiple solo sessions and only one with more than 5 others. The biggest issue with locals was the crocodile that was in the lineup two mornings in a row. I surfed 20 sessions across 4 spots, including some epic ones that involve a hike in. Lots of great wildlife, as expected, including a sea turtle hatch and lots of loud monkeys right outside the window. I did not see anyone SUP surfing on their knees- those niches remain open here. There were people taking lessons out front, but they were not in the way, and they were fun people. The waves were pretty big for part of the trip, so they mostly went to mellower beaches elsewhere. I did have a chance to meet the local version of Keith, who takes it to another level and sleeps in a hammock on the beach. He tends to the local turtle nursery rather than a library. The local Erwin is an opining yoga instructor who paints sunsets. All in all, a great trip, and looking forward to getting back in the water with the PT gang.”

Gang is right, from what I hear. It must have been in conversation, maybe in person, that, both of them being marine scientists, Megan was especially excited about a sea turtle hatching while they were there.

Speaking of KEITH; a flyer for the library featuring him, a photo of an above-average day on the Strait, newly painted rails on a board he got from JOEL CARBEN (also provided/sold Chris some snorkel fins that came in handy down central), a slightly out of focus ORCA checking the surf, and a flyer for Reggie. No phone nNot that hard to find.

I’m not allowed to post any photos of TRISH. I am putting this together in her room at SAINT MICHAEL. She is very committed to getting the hell out of here. Friday for almost sure. The farther we get from the original admittance, the more we (especially our daughter DRU and I) realize how dire her condition was when she was admitted.

The view from the ICU is the worst. Most views include the Olympics. Speaking of mountains, SHORTBOARD AARON LENNOX, surfer, climber, professional rope worker, has been doing some work, or having some scary fun, or both, near this top secret location.

Just to round this all out, the photo above, on the Olympic Peninsula, was taken by ARLENE OPTINERIO. And here is a shot of the rig ADAM WIPEOUT JAMES IS ‘practically giving me’ to replace my much-loved VOLVO (I do plan on getting it fixed). It’s a stealthy WINDSTAR that once belonged to CLINT THOMPSON, who also owned most of the used surfboards now owned by others hereabouts. IF I haven’t dropped your name here, send some photos, artwork, stories to erwin@realsurfers.net and I’ll give you the same amount I gave Chris. That and the knowledge that tens of real surfers, worldwide, are checking it out and scrolling on.

I have some other projects in the works, and, a reminder, “SWAMIS” IS DONE, MAN, and I need an agent, producer, publisher.

ALSO check me on INSTAGRAM, realsurfersdotnet AND check out the other pages here. AND surf when you get the chance, work toward having more chances.

Excuses and Explanations

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, northwest surfing blog,, old surfers, Original Erwin, real surfers, surf fiction, surf novels, surfing Swamis, writings of Erwin Dence

I do have some content in the works. I’ve been kind of… No, I don’t like excuses. You don’t need explanations.

As an update, TRISH is ready to get the hell out of the hospital. Her numbers are all getting back to the normal pre-cancer, pre-chemo, pre-radiation levels, and she is ever more determined, Again and always, fuck cancer! She is, finally, getting stronger. We can now see how critical her situation was.

I do need an agent and. publisher for my *COMPLETED novel, “SWAMIS.”

*OF COURSE I want to do just a couple of minor tweaks, not that. I’m, like, overly anal retentive. IF YOU WANT IN on this, contact me, erwin@realsurfers.net Or for any other surf related beef or content or submissions of stuff you want posted for free for my small but worldwide audience.

Meanwhile, I am putting art and music on Instagram at realsurfersdotnet and doing way too much commenting on other people’s stuff. Because I care. I have a new poem, “VISCOUS,” on PAGE III. I am considering adding another. page for original artwork. Not yet. I will let you know.

I DID WATCH quite a bit of the most recent WSL event. Two things: This surf competition is BRUTAL! STEPHANIE GILMORE is the QUEEN, and, evidence seems to show, she seems to know how to celebrate.

SAN CLEMENTE, CALIFORNIA – SEPTEMBER 8: Seven-time WSL Champion Stephanie Gilmore of Australia after winning the World Title at the Rip Curl WSL Finals on September 8, 2022 at San Clemente, California. (Photo by Pat Nolan/World Surf League)

Different contest, same winner. Thanks for checking out realsurfers.

Buy “SWAMIS” NOW!

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, Erwin Dence surf illustrations, northwest surfing blog,, surf fiction, surf novels, surfing art, surfing blogs, surfing illustrations, surfing Southern California in the 60s, surfing Swamis, writings of Erwin Dence

I DO HAVE surfing related content to post, but I’ve other things going on that push this stuff back a ways. As do we all. Other stuff, like real life. Trish has had a terrible time recovering from chemo and radiation, and has been in the hospital for almost a week. Weight loss, low blood pressure, some sort of infection, it’s all been quite overwhelming.

THE THING ABOUT much of life is that there are, yes, those moments in which something happens suddenly; car accidents for example; but most things happen in much slower motion. Sometimes painfully slow motion. Hair loss is one example (not the best if you consider chemo), but all the indignities dealt us in the aging process. AND THERE are the many problems and issues we cannot fix. ourselves, even with YouTube video help: Car repair. Cancer. AND THERE is the (almost) guilt we feel when we can do so little to help others, this hopelessness (if I haven’t mentioned this emotion yet), the ‘almost’ hopelessness and guilt when we’re talking about people we don’t know, or don’t know well, the feelings multiplied when it’s someone we love.

I I’M COMPLAINING, and I am, I am also aware it’s not about me. It’s about TRISH, someone I’ve known and loved for almost 58 years; someone who doesn’t want me making a deal out of all this. Stubborn enough (and people do ask me… and Trish) to stick with me all this time. IF TRISH is stubborn, she is also strong.

THE ANNOYING reality is that life goes on around us. Bills come due, obds have to be completed, and there’s not much I can do hanging around in a hospital room. AND I AM SOO annoying. II do, however, have some abilities in raising Trisha’s blood pressure. I must shout out now, to our daughter, DRU. She was vital in persuading her mother, with a lot of push from ADAM LARM, childhood friend to two of our three children, and now a nurse (two side stories I’m not telling now) to get paramedics to check her out. No, of course she had to go. And. now…

NOW I’m home, Dru did. a second overnight (they kicked me out at 8:30), and I’m charging up the phone, hanging on, waiting to hear what the doctor (4th or 5th since the two in the emergency room) has to say.

I CAN go work, or I could go to SAINT MICHAEL, or I could work on this blog, or I could finish the ending for my novel. The last two pages have been ready for a while, waiting for my cluttered, disjointed mind to focus enough to come up with… something… perfect, something that ties up some of the storylines while hinting, not subtly, that the next book, “BEACONS” (like Swamies, a convenient surf spot name that reflects the characters) will continue the fictional story of love, marijuana, surf, and MAGIC in the real world, 1969, San Diego’s North County.

LIVE ACTION- It’s almost 11am on Saturday, and I got the latest. UPBEAT, waiting for this test result. Or that one. Antibiotics. Waiting. I need to make a decision. But first… finish this.

My plan was to write something on how. so many things in REAL LIFE take precedence over surfing: Family, work, emergencies of all kinds; bbut when I went to Microsoft Word and checked my file for my novel, it had the little arrow allowing me to. go to page 229 (of 229) rather than scrolling down (which I wouldn’t have done today), SOOOOO, here we are.

-HERE’S THE PITCH! “Swamis” is for sale. I NEED AN AGENT! I NEED A PUBLISHER! I DO NOT WANT an EDITOR-FOR-HIRE. If you are a LEGIT agent, or someone interested in publishing, or, perhaps, investing in some sort of self-publishing scheme, contact me, erwin@realsurfers.net

I SHOULD MENTION THAT “SWAMIS” is dialogue heavy and could be visually… compelling.

OR, I’VE long considered printing some very limited copies, offering the signed work (probably 8&1/2 by 11, with illustrations, signed, dated, numbered) for some decent price, to the most discerning investors and/or surf novel fans. I’m trying to ome up with a price. I will.

TRISHA, checking me out in 1969, with what might be perceived as an adoring look. More likely, it’s curiosity rather than amazement. I’ve been thinking about some sort of poem about what she means to me. Everything. She is my buoy and my anchor; keeps me afloat when I’m sinking, keeps me closer to reality when my imagination overrules my judgment. The anchor simile is tougher. I don’t always want a real life perspective. Nothing replaces honesty. It’s a key ingrediant in love.

Working. on it. Check out some other realsurfersnet pages when you get a chance. Oh, and I sometimes post on INSTAGRAM, realsurfersdotnet

I think Fast Eddie Rothman is saying, “FUCK CANCER!”

Editing Surf Stories (Other people’s

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, northwest surfing, northwest surfing blog,, old surfers, writings of Erwin Dence

I have some surf related and surf adjacent (love that adjacent is a thing, and, why not? Surf curious) content to share. Not immediately. Soon. I got a big multi activity dump from Adam “coolest dad e-ver) Wipe out while Joel Carbon and I were over a working land to Whidbey Island, ferry waiting, ferry missing, watching the Mariners win one on Joel’s phone, texting with legendary surf writer, editor, Drew Kampion (also must have quote for my novel when it’s published). On our previous jaunt, we spoke with Drew, learned about spots that may or may not ever have waves. Oh, and we talked and texted with Adam. Hence the pics and vids of all the action he and his kids engage in (hunting, fishing, shooting, motorcycle shit, ski trips, building off road tracked vehicles, encountering Bigfoot; all the stuff folks down 101 near Pillows up (sp?) get up to. Oh, and I took a call from Northwest surf pathfinder Tom Burns, on speaker, allowing Tom to now be Joel’s friend, also.

Oh, and I got a report this morning from Chris Eardley. He and his wife, Megan, have been on a surf/yoga retreat/adventure to Nica-costa-dore (don’t want to blow up the location). Photos AND exclusive commentary.

All coming soon! Just, I am at a semi secret spot, and working off my tablet. It’s a different story. Mostly I seem to be editing other people’s tales.

That doesn’t mean I am not surf curious. Later.

Updates on Updates

Posted on by under Uncategorized

I posted something non-controversial on the NON-POLITICAL ERWIN PAGE. Check it out.

The Hama-Hama Oysterama is today, and, I believe, tomorrow. Any time you’re cruising the Hood Canal section of SURF ROUTE 101, it’s the place to stop.

On advice from surfer Joel Carben, I am going to post something from whatever stuff I have on this site to #realsurfersdotnet on Instagram.

I will have an actual post of surf related material soon. Perhaps I will delve into the still. unsolved mystery of why legendary surf writer DREW KAMPION dedicated a poem he wrote and published in “Surfer” magazine to me.

“SWAMIS” is ALMOST almost ready to sell. If writing a coherent novel is difficult, selling the masterpiece is daunting, frightening, scarier than negotiating the lineup at Windansea. IF YOU are someone who can assist in this effort… let. me know. If you want to sell ways I can improve my blog; thanks, but I kind have gotten accustomed to being almost unknown. But optimistic.

Meanwhile, partly because it is a pain in the ass to comment on WordPress, feel incredibly free to write erwin@realsurfers.net

See you.

The LackofSurfSessions Equivalent of ‘Hangry’ and, separate issue, Hospital Hanging/hanger

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UPDATE- Evidently Trump is not JESUS.

For a variety of reasons, I haven’t been surfing in a while. Too long a while. Some people believe this non participation in something I have loved for my entire life is a negative, mood and behavior wise.

Yeah, like, no fuckin’ shit!

To establish a baseline, I am, and this has been established through honest feedback, to me (possibly frightening), and to others and passed on (still scary, dead messenger wise); pretty much a dick 85% of the time. Add in a long spell of not surfing… Super dick.

There have been times when Trish almost demanded I go surfing. “Well, Honey, if you insist.”

While I’m semi confessing, I should semi apologize for commenting on this site and, like, always, about not feeling sorry for lucky ducks who find great waves and then tell me about it. Second hand stoke. Yes, I whine and snivel, but I still want to know. So, Tim, and others, PLEASE keep the stories and photos coming in. Tens of blog checkers need to know.

HOSPITAL STUFF-Trish has been enduring radiation ad part of the process after cancer surgery. She has two more sessions, but suffered a setback last week that is providing a lot of material about hospital survival, all a bit ironic since we have been kind of, sort of, binge watching “The Pitt” over the past week or so.

I will write something about the Kafkaesque weirdness of the hospital, but here is my review of the series (just into season two): You can leave the room for five minutes, and there’s another trauma when you return.

Just like real life. Surf when you can. Fuck Cancer!

Thanks for checking out realsurfers. Contact erwin@realsurfers.net

Why Skiing and Snowboarding are Better than Surfing, and, Oh Yeah, Happy Resurrection Day

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, real surfers, surf adventures, surf novels, surf satire, writings of Erwin Dence

Surf spots can get crowded, surfers can be rude, kooks can spoil a ride, sometimes paddling out. is just. like, almost impossible, AND surfing (well) is kind of hard to do; I mean, like, even Kelly sometimes wipes out in an awkward way. BUT, now, going up to the clean crisp air in the mountains, shredding the pow-pow (hip lingo or powder, aka fresh, non-iced or mowed-over snow), that’s JUST SOOOO MUCH BETTER.

THE DREAM, REALIZED. YEAAAAA!!!!

MEANWHILE, out on the increasingly polluted oceans…

Yeah, it’s MAYHAM!!!

BUT, up on the slopes… the lineup is for the lift. Once at the top, it’s your mountain. No priority hassles, no better wave in a set; you just… pick your line and GOOO!

SO, GO; GO NOW!

AND, if I didn’t mention it, snow-related activities also have the advantage over sitting on a beach somewhere trying to figure out how to make the perfect s’more without getting all sticky, wondering if that sideshore wind is ever going to stop, hoping the predicted swell might actually show up, all while mean-mugging and side-eyeing the newbies and adult learners with their tricked-out rigs and their pristine, custom popout boards and their colorful beachwear, each of them claiming some overriding right to the next set wave; a lot of SKI RESORTS have SKI LODGES. Yes, you can show off your latest ski wear, posture and pose in warmth and comfort.

NOW I’ve thought about this too much. YES, there are increasingly large numbers of surf resorts around the world. Same opportunities for preening and posing. Select one and, since snow is kind of seasonal, and the season in these parts started late and is all but over, GO! GO NOW!!!

NO, I’m not all that bitter. It’s EASTER, the celebration of the resurrection of JESUS, and kind of the end of SPRING BREAK, so… bummer, but a sincere shout out to JESUS. Sorry so much hate and destruction is done while using your name to attempt to sanctify it. I have to imagine the haters and destroyers are imagining a different Jesus than the one in the Bible, and, since I’m imagining, I have to wonder how Jesus would behave in the lineup. “Your wave? Sure, sinner, hypocrite; go for it; there’s a better one coming.”