Monthly Archives: December 2023

You-Tubing/Dreaming Swamis/Big Waves in General, Full Wetsuits in 63 degree water,

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, northwest surfing, old surfers, real surfers, surf novels, surfing in Washington State, surfing the strait of juan de fuca

This isn’t from the most current big wave event at SWAMIS, but, that doesn’t really matter when it’s the same deal any time the news media (and all your instagram surf-adjacent folks) hypes up an incoming swell; every wannabe hero paddling out at one of the only places one can (easily) make it out in San Diego County on those swells that come down from up here in the Pacific Northwest (just incidentally, totally missing the north shore of the Strait of Juan de Fuca); and… yes, getting out at Swamis is easy; not getting in some other hero’s way as they ride a wave they snaked someone else to get, getting more than three waves in a session, not kooking-it up and crashing on a takeoff with 89 scrappers, 19 actual rippers, and five videographers, 105 cell phone or actual cameras, and all the eyes of a bluff and stairway full of tourists and surfers who claim they got the sickest wave ever (or plan to, once they wax up and have another hit or sip… all trained on you. YOU. You.

Don’t blow it.

Damn! FELL OFF AFTER THE DROP!

YES, I have my own not-quite-a-hero stories; already shared. For years. Swamis, Windansea, Sunset Cliffs, Cardiff, Upper Trestles, La Jolla Cove; pretty much the other accessible spots on big days.

AND

But now, leeward of the swell, I just might have overdosed, self-medicating in the long nights of this amazingly warm winter (not arguing global warming while trying not to sound like I’m indulging in geezer-talk, but 50 degrees plus on any December day; not what it was when we moved up here in 1978, haven’t scraped ice in a while) by watching waves and wave riding on YouTube: Some amazing rides among so much disappointingly bad surfing, almost all of the scare-factor coming from the crowds rather than the waves.

Raw footage? No. Please edit the shit out of whatever you put out there.

I do have a few ISSUES, other than the oversold clickbait headlines/come ons, “20-25 foot Blacks,” for example. I only sometimes appreciate the ‘here I am getting a parking spot, here I am putting on my full wetsuit, booties, gloves, hood, floatation vest, compass.” behind or near the camera commentary, having heard enough “Sick,” “Rad,” “Oh no!” “Come out!” “Kook burned the other kook!” “Look at that one!” “Shit; broke his board and didn’t even make it out!” “Can we get pizza, Daddy!” Yeah, I’m looking, but I frequently fast forward and I almost always turn down the volume on the background music/rap.

HERE IS A QUESTION I felt compelled to text-ask of Trisha’s (and, by marriage, my) nephew, DYLAN SCOTT: Okay, two questions: Are you getting any of those waves? Why the hell are surfers wearing so much gear when the water temperature (I checked) at La Jolla Shores (where he lives) is 62.6 degrees. “WHY, back in my day, water got to 58, you put on your short john and…” Dylan did text back a ‘YES,’ and that it is a bit of overdressing, though he has become fond of booties.

ME, TOO; ever since that time at SEASIDE (not the one in Solana Beach, though I have surfed there) when I got bullheads in my feet walking up toward the… the cove. Wheww, almost said too much.

All this SCREEN SURFING may have affected my dreams. YES. So, last night I had this dream… you know how wave height is often compared to multi story buildings? It’s never, “Whoa, the wave was as big as a rambler in a tract out in the valley!” So, someone is giving this woman on a board close to shore shit for getting in the way. I go out (imagine, IF YOU WILL, Nate Florence or JOB with a POV sequence).

WHEN I GET TO THE LINEUP, there’s this multi-story building (imagine the train station at the entrance to Disneyland- I may have been) that is, evidently, a wave. I turn, I paddle; I’m at the peak, ready to drop in from the turret/tower. AND, looking down from something that magically turns back into the biggest wave my mind/memory can muster, I… CHOKE.

THE GOOD NEWS IS no one caught it on camera. It won’t even be one of those shorts that pop up- 29 seconds of dude who shouldn’t have been out considering the multi-story conditions.

THAT’S MY STORY. Hopefully, in the coming year, you’ll have moments and sessions worth remembering; and, sure, hopefully you have many from this year.

I do hate to mention how close I am to totally finishing the manuscript for “SWAMIS.” I am culturally bound not to say too much about when and where I have surfed recently, or where and when I plan to attempt to find waves next. So, I won’t.

Oh, and HAPPY NEW YEAR to all the real surfers! Yes, I am including kooks and posers and hodads and, of course, geezers. I do plan on posting some new click-worthy stuff on Wednesday. Thanks for reading.

“It’s Always a Full Moon, Drucilla”

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, northwest surfing, real surfers, surf addiction, surf adventures, surf stories, surfing the strait of juan de fuca

It’s almost a joke between my daughter, DRUCILLA (Dru), and me, that, any time there’s a moon on a movie or advertisement, it is always a full moon.

THE MOON, of course, isn’t a joke. There’s the tides affected by its gravitational pull; important to a surfer, and there is the LUNACY (Moonacy in English, perhaps) caused by the LUNA BELLA, the beautiful moon. And werewolves, of course.

There are ancient PAGAN RITUALS playing homage to the sphere, and, of course non-pagan references such as God giving us “The moon and stars to rule by night…” King James Version, Psalm 136:9.

SPEAKING of pagan-stuff, someone taught TRISH a most-certainly (or not) pagan ritual in which one holds out an open purse or wallet to the full moon and chants (maybe it’s just ‘says’ if it isn’t, like, repeated), “Oh moon, moon, beautiful moon… fill ‘er up, fill ‘er up, fill ‘er up.”

Now, the use of “filling ‘er up” kind of suggests a bit of loosening or democratization or cheapening of some sort of rule- doesn’t bother me one bit.

The followup, with the proper move probably being closing one’s wallet or purse, is to say, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Three times; kind of a chant.

THE THING WITH RITUALS of any sort is that, if you connect things that went right for you since the last full moon to the practice, it is almost frightening to miss an opportunity.

THIS PHOTO, the full moon rising over Mount Baker, is quite similar to what I witnessed late (like 4:20- no snide allusion intended) yesterday, though, season and location (I was probably farther out on the Strait, the moon was on the other shoulder of the mountain) were most likely different. And, before the moon got lost in the clouds, with an almost visible trail of light under it, the rising was spectacular.

THIS PHOTO, most likely taken from Kitsap County, has the moon setting over the Olympics. I live, probably, on the far right side of the image, between the dark line of the Coyle Peninsula and the ragged edge of the mountains, SURF ROUTE 101 and my place following the bluffs along the Hood Canal, and, heading north, along the beds of ancient fjords, around a couple of bays and… out, north and northwest.

On a recent surf attempt/trip, after witnessing the full moon rising in a clear cold sky the night before, I felt entirely privileged to see the moon in the high trees as I loaded up pre-dawn, and some sightings of the orb as I headed out. I lost it up by the Casino. Damn the luck!

IF YOU ARE A REAL SURFER, you have, I would tend to believe, a certain reverence for and appreciation of the beauty we witness: Sun, clouds, waves from glassy to blown out; but, if you’re a non-surfer, witnessing just how rattled and jazzed and stoked and electrified and excited a surfer can get about even the possibility of decent waves… well, yes, those surfers must be and are, indeed, LUNATICS.

IF YOU MISSED the opportunity last night, I think it’s acceptable to do the little chant tonight also. I have been known to take the full moon time period as it is in the Werewolf canon; three days. Yeah, it is kind of like hedging your bet. THANK YOU, thank you, thank you!

I may actually have some time to finish the manuscript for “Swamis.” I was hoping to have the many-ist edit done by Christmas (last Christmas, the one before that); so, maybe, by New Years. I’ll let you know. Meanwhile, good luck; I’ll be posting on SUNDAY. Oh, and “GO HAWKS!”

Merry Whatever You’re Celebrating, and…

Posted on by under Erwin Dence surf illustrations, real surfers, realsurfers illustrations, surf art

…and really, not that much else. I hope everyone is getting some miracle waves, and… yeah, that’s about it. With all the shoreline around the world, a great wave is still a gift. Share a few. Surfers should have a bond built through sharing the experience of actually learning how to deal with a force as powerful and tricky as the ocean. Throw in crowds and rocks and tides and winds, all the variables, and.. yes, there should be a certain es-prit’ de surf… and sometimes it is lacking.

The difference between having a magical session and a go-out where frustration with other surfers, or lack of waves, or one’s own performance leads to anger, is so often, attitude. The mental game is as integral as wave knowledge. I have forgotten to have fun too many times.

My worst surf session, was, by any measure… valuable; in retrospect, great.

We made it past the dark solstice. Waves are in the forecast. Somewhere surfers will be enjoying the magic.

OH, about the ILLUSTRATION: I got this scanned at COHO PRINTING in Port Townsend. RANDY is so, so concerned about making the print better than the original. I totally appreciate it. I have done a color version, maybe a bit to psychedelic; but, since I have it on a thumb drive, I can have more opportunities to get it… better… not perfect… but…

HAPPY EVERYTHING!

Scanner Issues

Posted on by under writings of Erwin Dence

Circumstances not entirely beyond my control are causing this post to lack illustration. It might just be beyond my ability. Or it might be that the fucking scanner just doesn’t want to scan no matter how many times I check the connections, turn it off and back on… you know, try to make it work. SO, though I have two illustrations I wanted to put out there… no.

UPDATE- I took the original illustrations to COJO PRINTING in Port Townsend, had them professionally scannned. RANDY, the owner, seems hellbent on making sure the scans are… I’m not sure, but I appreciate his concern. “It can’t get better than I drew it,” I said. “Well,” he said, and continued examining the line work. SO…

POSSIBLE T SHIRT design (top), and FICTITIOUS POINT BREAK

Hope the holidays aren’t stressing you out too much, and that, perhaps, you are finding a few waves.

I am still hoping to finish the many-ist rewrite of “SWAMIS” by Christmas. Hoping. I shouldn’t promise to have something really fun and unrushed on SUNDAY, but, yeah; Sunday; something.

Erwin Dence, Jr. claims all rights to original illustrations posted on realsurfers.net

Christopher Eardley Explores… Oahu

Posted on by under Uncategorized

LAST TUESDAY, my plans were to work on “Swamis,” which I did, watch a little of the possible running of the VANS PIPELINE MASTERS, do some house cleaning, go to the local recycling, load up all the food that got ruined during my recent five day power outage/failure, then go up to Port Townsend to do some work. I did work on the manuscript, in between checking the buoy readings, getting more coffee, feeding the birds, UNTIL I checked the tablet, and, after a lay day and a day of competition I totally missed, the show was ON.

I WAS AWARE that ripper on the mainland’s north shore, CHRIS EARDLEY was on THE NORTH SHORE. He’s in my contacts, so I texted him. HERE is how that went:

ME- Are you hanging at pipeline while I’m hanging in my living room watching pipeline?

CHRIS- Yes I was! Awesome event. Just got done surfing, though not there.

Me- I’m working for JOEL (another ripper). You probably have about 20 people you have to contact to say you were there.

Chris- Only the ones that have nothing better to do than text me about it.

Me- I had a lot of better things to do. I’m paying for it now working late.

Chris- Hahaha

Me- If you text me some shots of you hanging out on the North Shore with Scott Sullivan (PA ripper and, evidently, Pipeline photographer- water and, yikes, all) and Jamie O’Brien and all, I can put them on my site on Sunday and you would get TENS OF HITS. And I would appreciate it. It’d be great.

Chris- Jamie is coming over for beers later. I’ll see what I can do.

Me- Yeah. Um, what, yeah?

Chris- I kid. But I did just get out of the water on the WEST SIDE, n______ (yes, I know better than to name spots, even ones I will probably never surf). North shore is enormous and messy today..

Me- I actually was hoping you were serious, but a couple photos would be so lovely..

Chris- I’ll take some pics for you. I haven’t been taking many since I’ve been trying to leave my phone behind, and also due to being on the water or doing some work, which I’m also mixing in.

Me- You have probably already sent a photo of you working to your coworkers, so I don’t need that one.

Chris- (Upper photo) Here’s my morning.

Me- Other than the big ass hotel in the background on the one shot, beautiful and thank you. No shots of you ripping?

Chris- Nobody to take such shots. My surf missions are solo.

Me-Somehow you are making solo sound heroic. Solo, baby!

Chris- No complaints. Get to surf on my schedule.

Me- I think I want to surf on your schedule.

Chris- Obligatory sunset shot.

ME (to you, and to Chris)- My friends already know not to put me on speaker phone. Hopefully this won’t dissuade any of the few friends I have to be a little more… selective about texts.

I DIDN’T POST ANYTHING on Wednesday. I will this week. NO CONTEST to watch. OH, and I did get the garbage to the transfer station. Still have way too much recycling.. Getting close to Christmas. A nice present for a surfer might be… hope you answered waves.

The Day After Sunday, and…

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, northwest surfing, old surfers, Original Erwin t-shirts, real surfers, surf illustrations, surfing in Washington State, surfing the strait of juan de fuca

…I do try to keep to some sort of schedule. I have been trying to have potential and actual readers ready for new posts on Sundays and Wednesdays, it’s just that… no, no excuses.

There is an old saying: “Never complain, never explain.” Since I constantly do the first, I should be willing to do the other. I’ve been trying to make up for the time (and money) lost during my recent power surge/outage. I’m still working on figuring out… things.

I did work on my manuscript for “SWAMIS” during my down time, the generator churning outside; picturing the starving artist alone in some freezing Paris garret, desperately trying to make those subtle adjustments that will bring… heat, light, shit like that.

So, power back on, off to do the work that actually pays the bills. Out of town job. While waiting for a submarine (maybe, couldn’t see) to go through the Hood Canal Bridge (forty minute delay in this case), I actually made a list of what changes I need to make to my novel in order for it to make sense, story wise.

BUT, FIRST, because I’m changing the ending a bit, and I’m never quite sure if I might make more changes mid chapter (of course I will), I must write the last seven pages. THEN go back.

I also have been working on some drawings. I will put one of several possible ORIGINAL ERWIN t shirt designs, and a sort of redo of a little cove/point, with some added, never-happen-in-real-life waves:

Please overlook or forgive my lack of scanning skills. “I’m here to surf” is pretty much my motto. I do have some other designs. If I am going to inv.est in making another run of ORIGINAL ERWIN shirts (and, if you own one… it’s a VERY LIMITED item), I want them to be as good as the ones I’ve already done.

I do plan on going to a print shop this afternoon, and, if I don’t post anything else, I will put up some new illustrations.

MEANWHILE, I’m putting out local surf-related gossip, spreading rumors, trying to verify other things I’ve heard, lots of surfers coming over to the Peninsula and getting skunked is a common one. Very common.

OH, AND I’m also working on a possible shirt design for Washington State’s WEST END. It seems like, out on the rugged coast (and, for some reason, locals don’t seem to include fan favorites HOBUCK and WESTPORT) are not all that enthusiastic about folks cruising in from, you know, non-west. I’m not really involved in this- Yes, I did once try to surf Ruby Beach (so many logs, so many rocks), and yes, I did have a logger/surfer, years ago (late 80s), when I was out at Kalaloch, three children with me, trying to find some gems I could surf as practice for the RICKY YOUNG WESTPORT LONGBOARD CONTEST; tell me where I could find an accessible almost-point break; but, other than a few trips to the cove of vampires, I try to contain myself to the north(er) zone.

SO, self-promoting a bit, do check in on realsurfers.net occasionally, like, just to make sure, hit on it on THURSDAY.

AS ALWAYS, get some waves when you can.

Extra Erwin- Power Update

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, northwest surfing, real surfers

Ikeep telling myself I need, NEED to take more photos. And then I don’t. I don’t have any photos of the four young dudes from JEFFERSON COUNTY PUD who showed up in two big rigs to check out my power pole, their interest extending to the wire and components on their side of the power pole halfway (about 200 feet) down my driveway.

“Four guys?” “Sometime we have eight.”

SO, this was Monday, and the power flash happened very early last Wednesday. SO, that many days of running on a generator. Unsustainable. Way too much noise, inconvenience, MONEY, too many trips to the QUILCENE VILLAGE STORE (luckily only about a mile away) to fill gas cans at, fortunately, better per gallon prices (10 cent discount per gallon for cash) than elsewhere in the vicinity (Chimacum the next closest fuel). BUT, I have learned to pour the gas with minimal splash/waste.

I MUST give thanks to RON REED, an electrical contractor I recently did some work for. He called me back after a novel-length text, agreed that calling the PUD should be my next step. “Then we’ll see. It could just be a loose wire on their end.” “But, I mean, does that… happen?” “More often than you might think.” “Okay.” I had, at this point, already called them, left a message. It was about ten minutes after talking to Ron that a woman, formerly of Quilcene, called me back. “Do they have my phone number?” “I put it in the notes.” “Thanks.”

Just to be helpful, I went down, cleared some blackberry vines away from the area around the pole, and, having told others, including Trish, including myself that I wouldn’t, I looked into the electric box below the meter head. It seemed pretty normal. There were two big ass fuses. Hmmm. Since I had to get more gas and check the mail, I cruised into the local, independant HENERY’S HARDWARE. I talked to LEONARD. “No, don’t have any.” “Shit.” When I pulled up to the end of the driveway, talking to TRISH on the phone (luckily, still hanging at DRU’S place), telling her that, because we, at her urging, had paid a little extra to the IRS, we had received an official letter that, paraphrased, said, “Let’s call it even.” This was amusing, more to me.

THAT’S when the PUD showed up.

This is the burned connection on the neutral line.

The connection was replaced, they checked out the fuses I couldn’t replace without getting them, and scheduling an outage. They were fine. “Go see if this did the trick.” I did. It did. Mostly. I undoubtedly have issues to sort out, but things are working. When I got back to the crew, I shook each member’s hand, said I was as close to crying as I had been in the previous five days (I didn’t- almost), and, of course, asked if any of them SURFED. None did. “Good; we have enough surfers.”

ANOTHER sort of plus: I spent some of my time, in my under-heated living room, working on getting to the end of “SWAMIS.” I have managed to keep it to just over 100,000 words (yeah, that is longer than this post) and I am down to the last seven pages. I can imagine how to make the finale better when I go to work. WORK. Yeah. And I feel grateful to have it.

AS FAR AS SURF, it’s not like I hope there is none if I can’t go, and I do try, and fail, to think about what I might be missing while I am missing it, but… consider even really big but really south swells and their relationship to the mean direction of the Strait of Juan de Fuca; it might save you a skunking. And, as always, figuring out waves, finding that moment at that spot is, like electrical issues, is, possibly, more like… magic.

GOOD LUCK. POWER to All the people!

Not Panicking is Sooo Crucial

Posted on by under surf addiction, surf adventures, surfing stories, surfing tales, surfing the strait of juan de fuca

YEAH, I’m posting this just before I go to the next step in my attempt to bring full power back to my house. I replaced the burnt out shutoff switch, now I’m replacing the guts of the panel. This requires shutting off the main breaker down the driveway, and, once initiated, there’s no power until it’s all back together. SO… deep breath and…

I got this photo from Mike Squintz. He’s been dealing with a heavy work demand; too many hours. I’m pretty sure I told him I do whatever I can to avoid total meltdown. Or freeze-up. STILL, here I am putting off that walk down the driveway to the power pole. Another deep breath.

Here is something from my collection, “Mistaken For Angels:”

                           Close to the Ground

Not everyone knows how the heat gets trapped,                                                                   

Close to the ground; Held by the grasses, caught in the trees,

Boxed-up, stacked hard against the back door. Not everyone knows.

But we do. You do.

We know how the cold stringy reach of the ocean can’t reach us… quite.

We are leaned hard against the cliff, Cold and wet against warm, dry rocks,

Afternoon winds streaming up and over the pocket; God’s pocket.

We know. You and I. We know, and we fling a laugh between us,

Out and up, Smashing against the cliff’s highest outward edge, Pieces falling back down, Just enough to cover both of us.

Not the iconic image from the movie “From Here to Eternity,” but, when I couldn’t find a suitable Googled image under, “Couple making out at the bottom of a cliff by the beach,” I thought of this. Perhaps I placed it after (under) the poem because I want any reader to get their own image, perhaps from some memory. Any romantic-ness is a bit optional.

While I have memories of hanging at the cliff side after surfing from California, feeling the trapped warmth, I have another from the Pacific Northwest. Not romantic at all, though the feelings generated by an attraction to riding waves do get entangled with those of lust, love, passion. There’s some indisputable overlap. Not to be purposefully redundant, but with Trish and me, surfing has always been the other woman.

IF WE”RE past this, then, the story: I was surfing a break that required going across a river that I hadn’t surfed before. It was low tide, early spring, sunny, maybe fifty degrees, and I swore I saw a surfer walking back across the river mouth. I caught quite a few waves and was ready to go back across. The guy riding with me hadn’t caught as many and wanted to stay longer. Fine. I pulled down the top of the wetsuit and enjoyed the heat trapped in the berm. Then I tried to walk across the river.

YOU’RE RIGHT, rivers being rivers, there’s always a deep spot. Fifteen feet from the bank, my wetsuit starting to take in water. I thought about how my keys and cell phone were on the safe side of the river, how stupid I was, and, looking up into the sky, I saw a Coast Guard helicopter passing.

NO, I DIDN”T PANIC. It wouldn’t have helped.

THIS IS NOT MEANT to in any way overlap with my electrical adventure. I did a lot of research and I am actually being pretty cautious. Power off, move a bunch of wires, and… more caution. Then, power on.

I’ll let you know how it works out. WHOA! Yeah, I did just knock on wood. OH, I should add; we don’t know what stressors others have, so, while trying to control our stress levels, we might consider not being a stressor ourselves. Okay, considering.

UPDATE: More serious than I had hoped. It has to be something upstream, flow wise. The PUD will have to get involved. Not fully on panicked. Working on the ending to “Swamis.” If I could sell it… Considering. Check on Wednesday.

“Mistaken for Angels” is copyrighted material, all rights reserved by the author, Erwin A. Dence, Jr.