Author Archives: Erwin A. Dence Jr.

Sorry ’bout the Delay- Live Surf Contests are…

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, Erwin Dence illustrations, northwest surfing, old surfers, real surfers, surf art, surf culture, surf culture events, surfing art, surfing blogs, surfing novels

…not exactly addictive, but, as a fan, with favorites, some winning, some not; if there’s a chance to watch… I just mighjt. NEWS for the Non-Watchers and the WSL haters, John John won the mens, moments ago and Caroline Marks… Yeah, I’m sure you know by now.

I kind of half thought it was Father’s Day today, another excuse, this one for sleeping late, not being totally concerned about work (the kind that pays selected bills), and maybe even taking a nap. It isn’t Father’s Day. While Mother’s Day (l’m choosing the singular possessive here because, while we can celebrate all mothers, it’s our own that we should be honoring) is set up during the school year, with craft assignments designed to produce refrigerator art and coffee table crafts, fathers have to wait, and wait, and get something store bought. Still, most likely refrigerator and coffee table stuff. BUT StILL…

I did do some surfing since my last posting, memorable mostly in that my psychedelic oil-filled eye didn’t present too much of a problem. Or the bright sunlight and the decent waves made me ignore it. Or I just closed the left one while screaming down the line. That’s screaming as in ‘loudly proclaiming.’

On that front, there is still some scarring in the eye and the potential that the retina could come loose, so, out of an abundance of caution, I get to go at least another three weeks with the magical liquid holding the wallpaper to the inner walls. I am learning more each time I get checked out. Not that I’ve been anxious to know some of this. And, again, I have a bit of regret for not giving a bit more sympathy for other surfers who have problems with the glare and such in the water.

In a non-similar situation, I stumbled and crashed going out on my last session, doing the dive straight in rather than the wade, AND, as is increasingly happening, I got thrashed trying to land in a not-that-vicious shorebreak, pushing my board up the beach and crawling with, of course, witnesses. IN BETWEEN, of course, I ripped.

Not just me, of course, but if it’s ever SURFERS DAY, I will use the singular possessive ‘surfer’s,’ and the surfer’s performance I am most concerned with, though I do appreciate any good-to-great ride by anyone, is mine.

Allow me a moment to look up SOCIOPATHIC NARCISSISTS’ DAY.

Artist/surfer Stephen R. Davis and I at the COLAB in Port Townsend with my panels. Photos by Joel Carben. Joel and his wife, Rachel, run the collaborative work space and have allowed me to exhibit my work there. Steve helped spread the word on social media.

Side note: I’m wearing the t-shirt I designed for the Port Townsend Public Library’s SUMMER READ.

Secret note: Partially (only partially) because non of the semi local crew would say that I’m in any way thinner than another local surfer, I’m getting more serious about dieting. Slightly more serious. I’m switching from ice cream to yogurt, mushroom burgers (with cheese and sometimes eggs) to salads; I’m avoiding chips, fries, donuts; and I’ve broken it off, hopefully for good, with Little Debbie; and I’m rethinking my longterm obsession with Hostess.

Meanwhile, there are plans and schemes for the NEXT OCCASIONAL SURF CULTURE ON THE STRAIT OF JUAN DE FUCA AND THE SALISH SEA EVENT. The date is set for July 17th. Art, talking story, special guests… MORE to be reported, LATER!

Hope you’re scoring some waves on occasion. As always, if you can’t be nice, be real.

Doors, Panels, Screens, Artsy Dealies, My Most Recent Obsessions, Eye, Eye, Eye, AND BIG DAVE Stuff

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, Erwin Dence illustrations, Erwin Dence surf illustrations, mind surfing, northwest surfing, old surfers, real surfers, surf addiction, surf art, surf fiction, surf novels, surfing art, surfing blogs, surfing novels, surfing the strait of juan de fuca, writings of Erwin Dence

Trish wasI, as always, correct when she said I had become obsessed with these door panels I have been working on; four by-fold doors rescued/salvaged/pack-ratted from some job. My theory was, because everyone has limited wall space for art, these would serve as screens, or even, doors.

Yes, there’s an inside and an outside, and I kind of lost track of what was on one side when I was painting the other side. It wasn’t all, like, thematic. Maybe a little. Obviously I have some sort of fascination with waves. And color. I would start out, get to something that was not what I envisioned and… here’s the obsessive part; I would keep going until l was a high percentage of satisfied. The fear at some point is that I could then screw the whole thing up. A line too far. Or a color. Or… something.

I want to thank Joel and Rachel Carben, owners of the COLAB in Port Townsend, for allowing me to have my art in their space. Although I paint houses for a living, my artistic leanings have been toward drawing.

SO, I am not at all sure what to do with these panels now. Hanging out for three of the monthly Port Townsend ARTWALKS has reinforced my belief that marketing is not my strong suit. Not even close. SO, do I tell myself that the joy of art is in the process? That is true, but… but, but, but…

Captions: Stephen R. Davis approaching the wall of doors at the COLAB;Joel Carben and Steve; a framed painting that caused Steve to comment,”It’s nice that you’re finally going for fine art,”; various panels taken where they were painted (a Costco/White Trash garage). OHHH, and then there’s BIG DAVE.

I took this a week or so ago at the Home Depot in Sequim. I had already heard a rumor that Legendary Surfer BIG DAVE RING was giving up surfing due to arthritis in his knees. I did write about this. The rumor was confirmed. *Sort of. Quickly, Dave was raised in Pacific Beach, San Diego, and was part of the pack of “Pier Rats” that included standout, Joe Roper. Dave, currently 66, was fourteen when I moved to PB in late 1971. I was twenty. Not a big talker in the lineup, not a guy who hangs out and chats it up on the beach, part of the reason I found out any info at all is because we have been mistaken for each other, as in: “I read your last thing on your blog,” to Dave, or “I heard you were ripping the other day,” to me.

Most of this was back when Dave was merely rocking a big-ass mustache. We both were riding big boards (Dave a 12′ SUP as a regular surfboard), and we both caught a lot of waves, from the outside, or scrapping for insiders. Dave is a master of the late takeoff and the sideslip, and plows through sections I would dodge..

A notable quote that got back to me was, “I rolled up and the Walrus and the Beast were both out. I went somewhere else. Though I’m almost more comfortable with being referred to as ‘That asshole wavehog, kneeboards on a SUP,” and I’ve been doing my best to increase the size of my mustache, I must agree with those who say Big Dave is the Walrus. Coo coo ca choo, coo coo ca choo.

*Having already, in a pattern that seems to hold true among older surfers, moved from popping up automatically, to knee boarding the takeoff and standing up after the first section, to kneeboarding the entire wave, Dave expressed little interest in belly boarding. “No, but…” I could tell Dave was imagining the perfect pre dawn session, sneaking out, lining up a few bombers.

“It is amazng,” he said, “what I’ve gotten done because I’m not always putting stuff off to go surfing.”

I get it, Dave.

EYE and LEG UPDATE- I’m finally through with the wound care for the gouge on my right calf. Pretty impressive scar. I am going to have my eye checked out on Friday, with surgery to remove the clear oil inside it, hopefully, scheduled for… soon. It isn’t as if I can’t work, it’s just annoying. I sort of attacked a woman in a parking lot the other day because she had a bandage over one eye. “Hey, what happened to you?” Different deal. Worse than mine. Nice conversation. ANYWAY, I did tell Trish that, because of the glare in the water, I might not surf until the oil in my eye is exchanged for (I asked) saline solution, that to be replaced by the proper bodily-produced fluid.

BUT, but, but… when I check the forecast…

Moving on. Back to another of my obsessions. After I post this, my plan is to get back to “Swamis.” I had friends attempt to read earlier versions. I know where I have to make changes, and I have been working on it. That’s my process. Evidently. Obsession, distraction; what we have to do and what we want to do and what we really really want to do.

Good luck with your obsessions.

Sometimes Taking the Skunking…

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, northwest surfing, old surfers, real surfers, surfing, surfing art, surfing the strait of juan de fuca

…might be the wiser choice. You’ve faced this situation: The waves are crappy; side-blown, the tide completely wrong for the spot, and bound to get wrong-er for the next two hours; and the wind’s supposed to get stronger, wronger; sideshore, onshore, with a swirling bit of actual offshore just to help convince you that it’s go out, or hang out, or go home skunked and… yeah, you’re there to surf. And, another mind-push, is that you (and by you, I mean me) missed the last window because you had some sort of responsibility you couldn’t get out of, although, to be honest, you/I could have gone later and, as it turned out, scored.

I blame you. Me. Regrets. It totally wrong that sessions, or even particular waves we miss (you and I) are often regretted more than sessions or waves in which we believe we scored are properly appreciated.

Still… Fuck! Despite it being against somebody’s rules, if you have friends who surf, and they score, or claim they scored, and you didn’t… you will hear about it. “Why weren’t you out there?” Fuck! Should’a gone.

WHEN I was learning (should say ‘first’ learning), living twenty miles from any waves, and at the mercy of anyone willing to drive (my siblings and me, friends and me, me), I would go out in anything. Like… ANY THING!

That hasn’t really changed through the years. Even when I lived five minutes or less from waves, fitting surfing into my schedule (other obligations, but, working, mostly) meant hitting it with all the other weekend warriors and after-work maniacs, so, crappy conditions; I thought of it as practice.

PRACTICE. Of all the sessions I’ve surfed on the Strait of Juan de Fuca, a very high percentage fall into this category. If riding tiny waves makes one better equipped for bigger waves, choppy waves prepare one for clean ones, YEP, I’ve practiced.

STILL doing the make-my-best-assessment, move-other-schedule-issues-around, and GO!

I have a pretty good story on my latest session, and on why, even though I got a couple decent rides, I should have passed on it. It would sound kind of like whining, so… another time. I challenged tjhe conditions and… next time. NEXT time.

WAIT! I just checked my schedule AND the forecast. Busy, not so good. Please allow me to rethink my most recent session. I mean, I got a couple of decent rides, considering. Maybe… and this is what I would say to anyone I haven’t already reported the truth to… “Yeah, almost no one out! It was… GREAT!

meanwhile, in addition to more work shirked than accomplished on my novel, “Swamis,” I have some art projects I’m working on. More in my retro/psychedelic period. Photos soon.

AI (not Andy), Wurfers, Chas Smith, Verbosity…

Posted on by under northwest surfing, real surfers, surf addiction, surf culture, surf satire, surfing, surfing the strait of juan de fuca, writings of Erwin Dence

When I jump start my tablet each morning, after I check the buoys closest to places I might want to surf, the ones that actually give data on wave height and/or direction (and often it is a choice), and check to see how many people checked out realsurfers, and from where, and before I risk another disappointment by checking my bank balance, I go to MSN (Microsoft News) to get a quick peek at what’s going on (Trump gagging or being gagged, floods and famine and war, MTG and AOC), adding a click on ‘money’ to check crude oil prices so I can be hopeful (on not) on what gas is going to cost tomorrow (if the price per barrel is going up), or next week if it, you know, going down.

MAYBE, one time I clicked on something from Fux News. Mistake. “Stay in the bubble!” The bubble. SO, now I get some craaazy stuff from other OUTLETS (suddenly mind-wandered to Outlet Malls, stuff that wouldn’t sell at full price or to discerning shoppers), pushing theories like, I don’t know, I check the headline and hit the ‘right’ arrow. YES, sometimes I get an ad for adult diapers or ‘guaranteed cutthroat, budget defense attorneys, BUT, what is most annoying is I keep getting stuff from “The INERTIA.”

I BELIEVE, and maybe I’m becoming a conspiracy theory person (not a robot, quit asking), but it might just be ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE is focusing in on me. PRETTY SCARY!

SURE, I’m cool with YouTube offering the latest from NATHAN FLORENCE, or JOHN FLORENCE, or MASON HO, any ongoing contest on the WSL, tonight’s monologue by STEPHEN COLBERT, last night’s highlights from SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE, and I’ll totally waste time on the quickies that, for me, custom, includes quick clips of CLINT EASTWOOD and RACHEL MADDOW, and I’ve pretty much burned through timelapse videos of this or that amazing artists, and sixty years or so worth of BOB DYLAN outtakes and bootlegs and stories about Bob from people who brushed against him at Disneyland once.

AND, YouTube wise, AI may be giving up on offering me quick vids of amazing female athletes warming up, adjusting their outfits… HEY, one time taking the bait and… It seems like it takes a couple of weeks of hitting on titles like “Life affirming Bible quotes,” and “The joy of fully clothed yoga” to get AI recalibrated.

BACK TO “The Inertia.” Yes, I often do check out the articles. “The link between surfing and music.” Sure.
Ego and surfing.” Okay. It’s kind of like, sometimes, if you don’t hit on it while it’s offered on MSN, you can’t find it again. And it might have been, you know, good. So far, what I have read was most likely meant for a general, non-surfing audience or, at best someone other than you, me… real surfers. Fine. When the thing comes up that says, ‘continue,’ I might not.

IN SEARCHING for the Inertia, my computer warned me it was an unsafe connection.. WHEW! I tried again. Same thing. Third time, I got… this:

It’s from an article published several years back on dangerous women surfers (I accidentally typed ‘wurfers’ in the headline, decided to leave it. The article was written by CHAS SMITH.

IT SEEMS LIKE, if I want to keep up with surfing and surf journalisma and surf criticism, I cannot get away from Chas. Yes, I have tried to get through the hour-plus podcasts, and failed. MAYBE if I listened to them while I was working… maybe; but I have watched the shorter, edited versions. “Pros in the wild” will get me watching, extended chats on how to be a better person… no.

So, brevity. Now that most of us know how to self-checkout, and all of us have ADHD… I’ll try it.

Goodbye.

Hope you score.

Worldwide Report on Panamaniac’s Vacation

Posted on by under Uncategorized

Five frothed-out surfers from the cold northwest waters crewed-up and spent two weeks in some undisclosed location in Panama. No, I don’t know where, don’t have a passport, and… so I won’t or can’t spread it around. Panama, it’s, like, tiny on the map, with a canal in the middle of it.

Though I didn’t hear anything from either Chris (Chris Eardley and Christian Coxen), or either of Keith (Keith Darrock and Cougar Keith), or from Nolan (as with Cougar, don’t actually know his last name), it did seem interesting to me that, tracking my audience (not that many, but all over the wide world), I got a couple of views from, yes, Panama.

All right, all right, here’s the Eardley report, photos by Chris Eardley:

CHRIS EARDLEY’S PANAMANIAC REPORT-

Alright, alright. Here is a report for you: We have been surfing a lot. The waves have been good, the water is warm. We surfed something like eight spots, and we’ve been doing a lot of diving and fishing, too. Cougar Keith dropped a big fish on my foot, which clamped down immediately and made me bleed for hours, keeping me out of the water for a couple of hours due to fear of sharks (we’d already encountered several while diving). I still have teeth marks on my foot.

That’s okay, though, because Cougar got the worst sunburns. On the trip (he dominated a couple of the early surf sessions, too) and had a close brush with what he believes was a small bull shark 30 feet underwater.

The local librarian (non-cougar Keith) has been getting after it, as you’d guess, and we learned he can, in fact, go right on a wave as well. He’s also been reorganizing the hostel bookshelves in his down time.

Christian will be lucky to get out of here without breaking any more gear, as he’s been pursuing big fish and big waves. Best margarita on the trip has gone to him as well.

Nolan’s surf style has not been lost in translation down here.

Lots of great wildlife and good food. Craziest thunder storms we have ever seen, and the camp was nearly struck one night.

We are stoked!   

DAMN, realsurfers, I screwwed up on another Eardley photo, a scary looking crab; and I am unable to share a video of a very close lightning storm. Maybe it’s the trip thing, but I have stories from Mazatlan, 57 years ago, with waves and storms and crab attacks. Yeah, another time. Since a big trip for me is, maybe, La Push, I’m anxious to hear more stories.

My most recent text to Chris (and thank you, incidentally) was, “If you’re looking for adventure, it’s nice to have some adventures.”

I can’t help but say that this photo looks kind of like a rare day on the Strait. Rocks, lefts, yeah, no wetsuits.

Meanwhile, I am working on “Swamis,” just went back to set up something that’ll pay off later in the story. Hopefully. Hint: based on some east coast guy in high school calling our chicks ‘broads.’ I had to look up “Jagoff.” Yeah, research. ALSO, I survived my second eye surgery. So far, it’s kind of like having sunglasses on one eye; irritating. Trish got me an eyepatch; pretty stylish but almost equally irksome. I’m not sure how surfing affects the post-op eyeballs; I’ll find out more with my next visit to the Retina Center.

May all your adventures be adventurous.

More Doors AND… Panamaniacs

Posted on by under northwest surfing, old surfers, real surfers, surf art, surf culture, surfing art, surfing blogs

I took this photo from the internet; “Surf World” or something. Five rippers from the wave-starved Olympic Peninsula headed down there almost two weeks ago and are due back in the next couple of days. Yes, I asked for some sort of report. No, and I’m not trying to put any guilt on anyone… I’m sure there are excuses/reasons/explanations (band width, remoteness, lack of desire, too much wave action), I have not heard anything other than a second hand report from Adam Wipeout that Cougar Keith may have gotten the ride of the trip to that point (text message- I didn’t try, figuring cost of phone usage from the Central America, stuff like that), but, yeah, I TOTALLY WANT TO GET THE REPORT!

MEANWHILE, between getting filmed at a secret(ish) Strait of Juan de Fuca spot (Stephen R. Davis, also, with a surprise cameo, after whatever waves there may have been went to shit, by Jason Queen [not a nickname]) for some future artsy docu-thingy about me (despite my weak protestations by a woman who works for the Gates Foundation (more on this at a later date, but camera angles were demanded that diminished the chances of site identification, and yes, I would love to see a slow motion drone shot of me tucking my chunky body into a stretched-out wave); between this and getting a second surgery on my left eye after the first one for a detached retina failed. 10%, evidently, do; so, so lucky to be in the top percentile for something; oh, and the gash from my fall several months back is officially ‘almost’ well, though I was advised not to surf because of imagined (by the wound care nurse originally from Cuba, who thought maggots could have been an option) seal shit in the water.

“Oh, that,” I said, not having told her we saw several seals on the day of the filming, which, of course, I had not told her about.

MEANWHILE MEANWHILE, I still have my art retrospective at the COLAB in downtown Port Townsend. It will be there for one more ART WALK, the first Saturday in June, and I’m working on some more door panels. I have three bi-fold doors in progress, so six paintings. At this point I’m only willing to call three of them ‘almost’ done, so it’s kind of like three A sides, three B sides.

Not good enough. But they will be.

As I said, almost. Triple meanwhile, while I’m out of the waters for a while, five rabid rippers are set to return to a lineup near you. AS ALWAYS, if you can’t be nice, be real.

No Big Dave, No…

Posted on by under aggressive surfers, hipster surfers, northwest surfing, old surfers, real surfers, surf adventures, surf culture, surf stories

WORD ON THE STRAIT has it that BIG DAVE RING is giving up surfing. This would be a loss to whatever surfing community we believe we have.

All right, I immediately have to backtrack. I do divulge my sources; almost always. Adam Wipeout ran into Dave at Carl’s Building Supply. Or Henery’s Hardware- not important. Big Dave quitting surfing is. Important.

Big Dave is a secretive sort of person. I’m not. I’m not actually sure his last name is Ring. I may have heard his last name once, but not from him. I asked him for his phone number. Once. He said he’d give me one number each time I asked. “So, let me guess; three?”

Dave doesn’t talk much in the lineup. I do. He doesn’t often hang out on the beach, swapping stories. He is patient in the water, and is actually known for staying out for more hours than anyone. He picks out the best waves, sideslips in full control, and rather than barrel dodging sections, he drives through them. I have never seen him not in the best part of a wave, power in the pocket.

The only reason we sort of became friends (I say yes, you can ask him) is that we have some shared history. When I moved to Pacific Beach, San Diego, California in 1971, I was twenty. Dave was five or six years younger, a self-described “Pier Rat” hanging at Crystal Pier with Joe Roper and the rest of the local Gremmies. I can’t say I have a mental picture of fifteen year old Dave, but knew Joe Roper’s name because he was the best surfer in the bunch, and the most vicious. I can’t mention Joe Roper without retelling how he purposefully slammed his board into a guy in the shorebreak because (and I asked) the guy was from Clairemont. Perhaps it is not ironic that Joe’s repair facility is in… is it in Clairemont?

It wasn’t like I was in any group myself, but I was, for those couple of years, a local, for whatever that was or is worth. Still, I probably felt more connected to the pier rats than the other surfers who jockeyed for position in the crowded weekend and after work conditions. This was where I developed my Ghetto Mentality, a sort of excuse I have yet to totally disavow.

Big Dave, a few years ago, taking a rare break

Another connection I have with Dave is that we are sometimes mistaken for each other. It’s the mustache, perhaps. “People have said they really liked that thing I wrote on my blog,” Dave told me. “I just say ‘thanks.'” An argument continues as to which one of us is the Walrus, and which the Beast.

I have run into Big Dave over the years. He rescued my board in the rip once. If I paddled out and he was in the lineup he would say, “Oh, someone left the gate open.” Part way through a session, he would say, “The wave counters on the beach say you’ve caught enough.” I recently ran into him when he was with the Jefferson County road crew, setting up to close off another road. He said he’d gone to the doctor with a diagnosis of arthritis in his legs. “The doctor said it would mean a change in my… lifestyle.” “He meant… surfing?” “Maybe.” “No, man. No.”

There is some similarity in our arcs as we head past middle age. Dave has been riding a twelve foot SUP as a regular board for years. No paddle. It has been a while now that he, paddling back out, commented that I get to my feet like an old man. He was right. Still, over the past couple of years, he went from taking off, dropping in, and standing after the first section. Then, as with me, staying on his knees. He still rides a wave as well as anyone.

HERE IS WHERE surfers seem to decide to give it up: Surfing is a competitive activity, with inarguable amounts of ego unevenly divided among the worthy and everyone else. The crowd factor, a delight for the novice, so excited to be there, wears on others. It is tough to compete those on the safe side of the first section, paddling blindly, dropping in. I don’t get too many drop-in bitches (someone else’s term for male or female surfers- I only use it for dudes), but I have witnessed Big Dave, high and tight in the pocket, and someone just… drops… in.

I cannot help but remember when leashes came into use. I put off getting one, but couldn’t help but notice how the kids Dave was running with would take off in front of me, and when the wave got critical, they… just… bailed.

BIG DAVE… PLEASE, DON’T BAIL!

I might need someone to rescue my board from the rip again. OH, and I can’t imagine some almost out of control pre-dawn situation without seeing a big guy with a big board over his shoulder, coming down the trail and onto the beach, beating me out to the lineup. “Someone leave the gate open again?”

EVIDENTLY. As always, thanks for reading, and, if you can’t be nice, be real.

NEW at the PT ARTWALK TODAY!

Posted on by under Uncategorized

I’M TRYING to get ready. It isn’t going all that well. JOEL AND RACHEL CARBEN, the folks in charge of the COLAB (collaberative work space) in downtown Port Townsend, above the Silverwater Cafe and below the Starlight Room part of the Rose Theatre, were kind enough to allow me to display my art works there for three months. This is the second Art Walk, and I guess I am supposed to hang out there and try to sell folks on my stuff. I’ve been working on three screens. This is the only one that is complete in time for this month’s dealie.

I’ll be hanging out from five to eight pm. Cruise on in. Good luck finding parking.

I am also bringing my MANTA surfboard. The painting is complete, but it still needs a coat of resin. STILL, is someone wants to buy it…

In case you can’t make it, I’ll, almost surely, write something about it tomorrow.

Fires: Kelly, Oceanside Pier, PT Rippers in Panama…

Posted on by under Competitive surfing,, northwest surfing, Port townsend surfing, surf culture, surf stories, surfing the strait of juan de fuca

…and, of course, more.

KELLY- Yes, I watched the super heat at Snapper Rocks on YouTube… several times. Five (former, with explanation, if necessary) World Champions: Occy, Parkinson, Gilmore, Fanning, Slater, all of whom have a background at the spot, and, if the World Surf league commentators are to be believed, a residence in the vicinity. The consensus was that Stephanie won, and I agree, with Kelly coming in, perhaps, second.

THEN, live, last night, live on the big screen in my living room, I watched Kelly in a four person heat in the round of 64. Two surfers advanced. Kelly wasn’t one of them.

THROUGH OR NOT, here is what is true about R. Kelly Slater: All the radical moves he developed and perfected have become, with training and coaching, part of any competitive surfer’s repertoire, and are, de facto, required, must-see slices and swoops and cutbacks at any age or level. Full-wrap-tail-slide-to-whitewater-bank-to-bottom-turn? Yeah. Ten yard foam climb with speed and control. Yes.

Power down-carve in powerful waves, back arm in the wall? Credit John John Florence, but check out everyone else’s version. Air in the pocket, with speed? Felipe. The radical, nine-point-plus moves become, eventually, sixes. Five, maybe. Bust those fins.

It is, perhaps, too obvious to state that we all learn from others; copying, adopting, adapting. True in music, in whatever trade or art or business you are involved in. Still, though Kelly, no doubt, picked up moves from others, he moved heat strategy and the use of strategic moves… farther. He is the most copied, the most emulated. If he was awesome when he started, he is no less so now.

Other tour veterans have been forced to adapt. Sally Fitzgibbons, going for air reverses, still has to fight on in the Challenger Series. As good as Stephanie Gilmore has always been, if you compare her surfing now to when she started winning world titles… well, her performances are so much more… progressive.

Progressive. Now.

Griffin Colapinto, I have argued, and will, is the perfect example of someone who identified, studied, practiced Kelly’s moves until he had them down. Automatic. And, currently, he is ranked Number One on the men’s side.

NUMBER ONE on the women’s side is, currently, with a style characterized as “intuitive,” as “different,” is Caitlin Simmers. Here’s how I explain it. SHE’S FROM OCEANSIDE.

I was cruising through Walmart on Thursday, hoping they had some of the good bird food. Incapable, for the most part, of shopping on my own, I had Trish on the bluetooth. Capable of multi-tasking, she had coverage on the fire at the end of the Oceanside Pier live streaming on Facebook, some guy talking about the response, firefighters and fireboats going against the toxic smoke from the creosote-saturated pilings, while I’m trying to decide between the cheap or the super cheap throwaway razors.

TRISH and I have a long history, separate and together, of experiences on and around the structure. SO MANY that, though I started writing (in Microsoft Word) about them, I realized, many words in and still not up to the nineteen sixties, that I will have to spend some more time on the subject.

QUICKLY, the waves are challenging. They seem to be bigger and break harder than other spots. One must adapt. The two-plus years I spent working at Buddy’s Sign Service, First and Tremont, two blocks south and one block (plus railroad tracks) east allowed me to surf some frustrating, some truly memorable waves. I can easily remember dropping, backside, into overhead walls that stretched toward the pier. And… anyway… later on that. And go Caity!

SURF TRIP NEWS- Reggie Smart is back from Maui. Stephen R. Davis is headed back from San Francisco. Five surfers from the Port Townsend area are headed to Panama. HOPEFULLY I will have some photos and stories. EVERY SESSION IS, if you do it right, A STORY.

MEANWHILE, I’m busy on several fronts. Surfing is one of them. LATER. And, with all due respect, Later, SLATER.

Photo for Previous Posting

Posted on by under Uncategorized

These folks are featured in the previous post. Scroll down to check it out. The two guys are brothers. Formerly of Sequim, they are currently living in Yakima. I didn’t ask why, but I did insist they put the boonie hats back on for the photo. The one on the left helped me with my wetsuit. They were all in the water for at least four hours.