Monthly Archives: August 2014

Illustration for Musical Event On Surf Route 101

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Here’s how this poster came about:

shindigIllustration 001

I was asked by musician Franko Bertucci (who heads up his touring band, Locust Street Taxi, participates in other musical groupings including “The Village Idiots,” and with his wife, Arianna, doing most of the work, has a small farm)  to ‘draw up’ a t shirt design for the ninth annual “Shin-Dig,” a musical event in the town of Quilcene, Washington. If you’ve driven ‘the loop’ that US Highway 101 makes from down at the Columbia River, Chinook, the small town my Dad lives in, and go up the coast (sort of, more woods than waves), possibly making a detour to hit La Push, another turn at Sappho to check out Neah Bay, stay on 112 instead while heading toward Port Angeles, then head East and South; and you get to about mile marker 294, you’ll have passed my house and found yourself having to slow down once again for some small town before heading up and over Mount Walker and down the Hood Canal, the east side of the Olympic Mountains still on your right; well, that big curve is Quilcene, and exactly on the apex of that curve is where the Shin-Dig will be happening this coming Saturday.

So, since the event is held just outside what was once a theater, next to what was once a church, on that curve was once the center of what was once a thriving lumber town, with a railroad line that actually cut across what is now my property, and that former theater is now home to Waltz Lumber, a business that sells slabs of wood (for things like coffee tables) and other exotic wood products (like maple for guitars and such), I thought it might be good to have a drawing of a wood carving (this is just in case you don’t get it from the drawing), and, since my son Jaymz (formerly J.J., actually James) is a lead guitar player and professional musician, I thought a wood carving of… anyway, the whole thing ended up looking more like a poster than a t shirt design, so… I did the black and white, got some copies, added some color and… poster.

So, if you’re headed up or down Surf Route 101 on Saturday, this Labor Day weekend, and you just happen to get to Quilcene between noon and dark; stop in; it’s free, and, well; I have been threatening to participate, possibly to play harmonica and sing something like… “It’s a hard 1,200 miles; that old surf route 101; some are headed for the clouds, some are searching for the sun…”

 

Breaking the Lines

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It may say something about me, about my life; that I drew a larger version of this, got it copied in black and white, added the color to the original, had both versions reduced to a printer-friendly size, gave one to my friend, Port Townsend librarian and surfer, Keith Darrock, just as I was finishing up one painting job, rushing to another, and, not for the first time, I threw my thermos into the bin in the passenger seat, only to discover, once I arrived at Beckett Point, that I had coffee spilled on my going-home t shirt, on the original copy of a poster I'd recently finished, and... on this. Maybe it's just another line I keep breaking; another reminder that so much is temporary. Or maybe it... I don't know; here it is, stains and all

It may say something about me, about my life; that I drew a larger version of this, got it copied in black and white, added the color to the original, had both versions reduced to a printer-friendly size, gave one to my friend, Port Townsend librarian and surfer, Keith Darrock, just as I was finishing up one painting job, rushing to another, and, not for the first time, I threw my thermos into the bin in the passenger seat, only to discover, once I arrived at Beckett Point, that I had coffee spilled on my going-home t shirt, on the original copy of a poster I’d recently finished, and… on this.
Maybe it’s just another line I keep breaking; another reminder that so much is temporary. Or maybe it… I don’t know; here it is, stains and all

You Should Have Been There an Hour Later

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fatguy setting up

Thanks to Jeff Vaughan for the photo of the guy on the unbroken wave that, also, looks like it might not break. Jeff is a longshoreman, loads ships all over Puget Sound, down to Aberdeen. On this day he was working an afternoon shift in Port Angeles. I was the first one out in waves that would have been difficult to catch on a regular long board. The tide was a little too low for the slow-motion-Malibu rights.

A little later, though, the tide came up, pushing (I don’t always believe this surfer theory) the swell up a bit. By the time I’d  caught a bunch of dribblers, and some other surfers came out, the lefts on the other side of the little bay, totally flat at dawn, were starting to work. Honest. Lined up, spinning, I caught a few before I had to, had to go to work.

As did Jeff. But first he took a few shots of waves hitting the outside indicator. Maybe he’ll send those to me. Oh, sorry; if you’ve never surfed the Straits of Juan de Fuca, this is really as big as it gets. Oh, and, I guess Jeff missed my cutback, set up bottom turn, sidestep to the nose. Maybe next time.

ADRIFT- Chapter, I Don’t Know, Like, Maybe, Four

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Stephen Davis is, evidently, headed back home from several months working in the Midwest. His son, Emmett, with him, they apparently took the train from the Chicago area, down to Ohio, picked up a car from an Aunt, kind of a replacement for the car Steve gave to his Psychic in an earlier chapter of his life. I'm guessing it was valuable father/son bonding time, but it doesn't look like he scored epic San Onofre. That would be using the surfer logic, "It can't be good; no one's out." I'm looking forward to Stephen's return. We have a plan to hit an elusive spot on Cape Flattery when he returns.

Stephen Davis is, evidently, headed back home from several months working in the Midwest. His son, Emmett, with him, they apparently took the train from the Chicago area, down to Ohio, picked up a car from an Aunt, kind of a replacement for the car Steve gave to his Psychic in an earlier chapter of his life.
I’m guessing it was valuable father/son bonding time, but it doesn’t look like he scored epic San Onofre. That would be using the surfer logic, “It can’t be good; no one’s out.” I’m looking forward to Stephen’s return. We have a plan to    hit an elusive spot on Cape Flattery.                                                                                                                                                   Wait, maybe there’s one person out, and, way over to the left, that might be just the edge of someone. This is a different angle of the whole San Onofre/Church/Trestles area than I saw, back when we’d trek there from Fallbrook. This is quite a ways south of the power plant in the area where, back in the pre-I-5, Slaughter Alley days, cops and/or Marines would often be seen escorting surfers off this same beach; possibly, if the surfers were lucky, just back to their vehicles parked off Surf Route 101- possibly minus surfboards. If they were even luckier, the surfers may have scored some epic Camp Pendleton waves.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eight at Eight Feet (Hawaiian)

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So, this is a photo, borrowed from the Port Townsend Leader (thanks), of Arrow Lumber's main guy in our area, Cadian. Maybe I read or heard his last name once, but... What's pertinent is that, every time I've gone in there, if he's around the counter, there's surf talk. And I've been going there, first for pellets for my stove, then, when that went into broke-mode, for building supplies. I should mention that Arrow Lumber has the lead on the coolness meter for such places, totally thrashing The Depot, largely because the people working there (and originally there was only Cadian, PT local) seem to give a shit. And they give back, evidenced by the photo. Not that is really pertinent. Cadian has surfed the legendary and mysterious surf spot, Green Point... and I haven't. But I will. So, on my most recent trip, purchasing some 2 by 4s so I can get a roof on the greenhouse/studio I'm building with a lot of windows I got from a job where they replaced all of them because two had lost their seal, Cadian and this other guy started telling me I should be surfing on such a fine hot day. "But there's no surf," I said, "even on the coast." "There's surf in Maui," this other guy, always up on the latest blue collar gossip, said, "and Kauai. Last time I was there..." "And on the north shore," Cadian added. "I've been there, and the waves are sooo..." Then, after I mentioned the US Open was held in ankle snappers at Huntington Pier, we had to discuss wave size. I held my hand even with my chin. "Four foot, Californian." "I saw these waves at Sunset Beach," Cadian said, "and I said, 'got to be eight feet.' This Hawaiian guy said, 'No, Bra, four feet... Hawaiian.' So... um, Erwin, what did you want again?" "Eight 2 by 4s, 12." After another customer approached the counter, Cadian added that maybe I wanted nine, I had to say, "No, eight twelve footers. (pause) That's eight foot Hawaiian."

So, this is a photo, borrowed from the Port Townsend Leader (thanks), of Arrow Lumber’s main guy in our area, Cadian. Maybe I read or heard his last name once, but…(okay, research; it’s Hendricks).
What’s pertinent is that, every time I’ve gone in there, if he’s around the counter, there’s surf talk. And I’ve been going there, first for pellets for my stove, then, when that went into broke-mode, for building supplies.
I should mention that Arrow Lumber has the lead on the coolness meter for such places, totally thrashing The Depot, largely because the people working there (and originally there was only Cadian, PT local) seem to give a shit.
And they give back, evidenced by the photo.
Not that the company’s generosity is really pertinent. What is is that Cadian has surfed the legendary and mysterious surf spot, Green Point… and I haven’t.
But I will.
So, on my most recent trip, I’m bent on purchasing some 2 by 4s so I can get a roof on the greenhouse/studio I’m building before the rains return. And they will. I’m taking advantage of having a bunch of windows I got from a job where they replaced all of them because two had lost their seal. But, mid-decision on my part on the number of boards needed, Cadian and this other guy (okay- same research lumber yard trip- it’s Jerrod) started telling me I should be surfing on such a fine hot day.
“But there’s no surf,” I said, “even on the coast.”
“There’s surf in Maui,” this other guy, Jerrod, always up on the latest blue collar gossip, said, “and Kauai. Last time I was there…”
“And on the north shore,” Cadian added. “I’ve been there, and the waves are sooo…”
Then, possibly because I mentioned the US Open was completed the day before in ankle snappers at Huntington Pier, we had to discuss wave size. I held my hand even with my chin. “Four foot, Californian.” (that would really be, like, five feet- I’ve measured)
“I saw these waves at Sunset Beach,” Cadian continued, “and I said, ‘got to be eight feet.’ This Hawaiian guy said, ‘No, Bra, four feet… Hawaiian.’ So… um, Erwin, what did you want again?”
“Eight 2 by 4s, 12.”
After another customer approached the counter, Cadian added that maybe I wanted nine, and I had to say, “No, eight twelve footers. (pause) That’s eight foot Hawaiian.”

 UPDATE- August 24- It’s Cadian Hendricks. The other guy is named Jerrod. The guy I got on the phone when I posted the piece, who said he’d pass on the information, kind of like free advertising for Arrow Lumber, never did; and I called him out on it yesterday, in to buy some plywood. “We don’t have time for surfing the internet,” the guy whose name I didn’t catch, though he’s been friendly and helpful in the past, said, “but I do remember you called.” So, I left a note, another employee put it on the bosses’ (Cadian’s) desk, and, well, I guess everything’s fine. We’ll see. Meanwhile, as always, looking for a swell, scheming, dreaming of side-slipping through a few green ones.