Category Archives: aggressive surfers

Clinton Burks on Point Grenville, Me on Jeff Parrish and Tom Decker, and a new Illustration

Posted on by under aggressive surfers, Erwin Dence illustrations, learning to surf, northwest surfing, old surfers, real surfers, surf adventures, surf culture, surf illustrations, surf sessions, surf stories, surfing, surfing in Washington State, surfing Point Grenville in the 60s, surfing tales, surfing the strait of juan de fuca, surfing Westport Washington, Uncategorized, writings of Erwin Dence

I received this comment in response to one of the most popular, over time, posts, “Tom Decker and Jeff Parrish.” Noticing the consistent number of hits the piece seems to get, I thought either Tom Decker, well known to pretty much anyone who surfs at Westport over the last twenty-five years, is a name people google, then find my article; or Jeff sends friends to check out what I wrote about him. I’ve had a sort of suspicion that, always just trying the real story, I may have written something that would or should offend Jeff. Since Jeff’s wife, Ruth, has started surfing, and, actually, before that, he seems to have other people he prefers to surf with (and, yes, I am somewhat hurt by this, but no longer whine about it when I see Jeff’s father-in-law, Jim Hodgson, at the post office.). Because I got this comment, I checked.

Yeah, maybe Jeff had a tough outing, called-out by Mr. Decker; but he’s not alone in that. I do drop the name (Tom Decker, though I always ask people from Seattle if they know Jeff. “Which Jeff?” They all know at least one) with folks from Westport, or those who say they surf there a lot, when I see them looking for waves on the Strait. Maybe Tom has mellowed; other names are mentioned as enforcers at the Groins and the Jetty.

So, here’s the contribution:

Clinton Burks (@soloncircus)

Erwin,

If it’s of any value to the surfing community, I’d like to recite some first-hand oral history about Pt. Grenville.

I surfed there from 1967 to -69, when I was in high school. We just showed up with surfboards and camped for the weekend, without any fuss from “authorities.”

Then, in 1969, we showed up as usual, and a truck pulled up and a well-spoken, close-shaved Indian came over to us in an very authoritarian manner, and spoke to us ominously, “Where are you boys from?”

“Bremerton,” we said.

Then he looked at the rock cliffs covered in grafitti, and most of it was the names of various high schools painted in great big letters in a wide variety of colors.

He paused and said, “If I looked up at these rocks and saw ‘West Bremerton,’ or ‘East Bremerton’ written here, I’d arrest you and put you in jail. But as it is, you can just leave.”

So we got kicked out, and never went back. Good thing us Bremerton guys specialize more in thievery and violence, and “school spirit” was for “soces.” Besides, our writing skills were sketchy, anyway.

In 1970 I heard that some friends tried to go there, and the Quinaults confiscated their boards and they had to pay fines. I left the state in 1970, and have not heard anything about it since, except for your piece on this web page.

BTW, concerning Washington surfing at the time, I had the feeling that Pt. Grenville was the only place, because the waves were dependable. I wasn’t part of any big surfing “scene,” because there were so few of us, so I don’t know if there were many guys scouting all the coastline in the state, looking for a good break. In those days, I’d never heard of surfing at Westport. (What’s more, I lived the 1970s in San Francisco, and never heard of Mavericks, though no one else seemed to know about it, either.) People in Bremerton were always going there for more fishing. When we got out of high school, it seemed like everyone went to Hawaii, got jobs, and stayed for awhile.

Aside: We didn’t use wet suits. When I was aged 6 to 9, I spent the summers living in a tent and a beach cabin at La Push, because my father was a commercial fisherman out of there & Neah Bay. My mom told me, “Just wait till you get numb, and you can play in the surf all day.” She was right. Last time I did it was 2010.

Clint Burks

So, I really don’t know anything about Mr. Burks except that he must be about my age, possibly another member of the class of 1969. And I have heard a few stories about Point Grenville in the mid 1960s, some which might explain why the beach was closed. Still, the image of some waves peeling off that point…

Here’s my latest illustration:

realsurfersUPcolor 001

Chasing the Diamonds; Quilted, Kenetic, Allusive

Posted on by under aggressive surfers, Erwin Dence illustrations, Melissa Lynch watercolors, mind surfing, northwest surfing, old surfers, Port townsend surfing, real surfers, surf adventures, surf culture, surf illustrations, surf sessions, surf stories, surfing, surfing art, surfing drawings, surfing illustrations, surfing in Washington State, surfing Lower Trestles, surfing on the Straits of Juan de Fuca, surfing satire, surfing Southern California in the 60s, surfing Swamis, surfing tales, surfing Trestles in the 70s, Uncategorized, writings of Erwin Dence

My sister, Melissa Lynch, the real artist in the family, scolded me for being in any way apologetic for my drawings. Yeah, well; I would like to be honest. If I could capture the building blocks of always-moving water, figure out how to weave a seamless shadowed/reflective/glimmering/black/white/multi-hued image I would.

realsurfersquilted 001

If I could.

realsurfersquiltcolor 001

Since I can’t; yet; I’ll keep trying.

Meanwhile, I’m still in the thinking-it-through phase of a piece I must write under the working title of: “Are All Surfers Sociopaths; or Just the Good Ones?”

Three Acts: ACT ONE- several highschool surfing buddies and I surf Swamis after school. The only other surfers out are three (also high school age) members of the Surfboards Hawaii Surf Team. On the drive home, my friends complain they couldn’t catch any (or enough) waves. I hadn’t noticed, being busy catching waves and watching incredible longboard surfing. ONE, PART 2- One of my friends (Ray Hicks, most likely) points out (I think this was the day I ripped out my pants and had to borrow a pair of Levis from Billy McLean) that, when encountering other surfers of about our age, I seem to puff out my chest. “Maybe you’re intimidated.” “Yeah; probably.” “It’s, uh, like a gorilla.” “You mean, like, primal?” “Yeah, probably.”

ACT TWO- During the last week of my job up the hill from Trestles, taking an hour and a half break during my half hour official lunchtime, some surfer (I’ve always believed he was a Marine Officer) burned me and everyone else (I still got some, but not as many as usual waves). When I checked back at my half hour afternoon (supposed to be ten minutes) break, the guy was still out, still burning surfers mercilessly. I didn’t hate him; maybe he was going somewhere sucky, where a rifle was mandatory, for a while.

ACT THREE- My friend Stephen Davis, last time I spoke with him on the phone, mostly about his upcoming trip to the Oregon Coast and the chance I might meet him somewhere (probably won’t happen); had to, (had to) mention how I fell out of favor with many members of the Port Townsend surfing crew (very unofficial) because, over-amped, I (accidentally, I swear)wave-hogged on a day almost two years ago. Two years ago. Jeez. When I mentioned this on the phone this morning with Keith Darrock, and that I’m no more a sociopath than he is, and I do have empathy, whatever that is, he had to (had to) mention his observation that I’m kind of loud and possibly abrasive (see how he was tactful about this?) in the water, and, also, incidentally, I do seem to “kind of strut in the parking lot.” “WHAT? ME? No, it’s just being friendly.” (I am laughing at this point, but, also, thinking. Is he right?) “Like a rooster. And, oh,” he adds, has to add, “You kind of stick out your chest. And…and it seems like you want to dominate (I’m adding ‘even in’) the parking lot.”

There is no ACT FOUR where I try to change my ways, get all friendly and nice; empathize with those who won’t (before hand) or didn’t get enough waves. Empathize. I did tell Keith I’d rather attempt to empathize than be one of those who didn’t get enough waves. Maybe they’ll get points toward sainthood. No true contrition. Sorry. At least not so far. But, I am thinking; and since I can’t afford professional help, I’ll have to self-diagnose.

STEP ONE-“Yes, it’s all true.” See you in the parking lot.

Erwin Would Go

Posted on by under aggressive surfers, getting barrelled, northwest surfing, old surfers, real surfers, secret surf spots on the Straits of Juan de Fuca, SUP surfing, surf photos, surf sessions, surfing in Washington State, surfing the strait of juan de fuca, Uncategorized, writings of Erwin Dence

Sure I would; but what if the waves get over two feet?

erwin

When I traded out five hundred dollars left on a painting job for an eleven foot SUP a few years ago, it was never my intention for this to be my go-to board for surfing on the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Now dinged to shit and weighing five pounds more when I get out of the water than it did going in (I’d fix the dings but I keep thinking it’s not my go-to board), it is, indeed, the board that fits the conditions. That is to say, if I didn’t have it, I’d be walking out on the reef, looking to the heavens, watching perfect little peelers not quite clearing the rocks, and pray (closer to asking, really) for just another foot of wave height. It has happened. A lot. That is, the asking/praying; the increasing swell, not so often.

P1060888

The undervalued part of riding a standup paddleboard is, that, while it does enable a surfer to catch waves outside of the normal takeoff zone, and outside of other surfers, it also enables surfers to ride waves even a longboarder couldn’t get into. So, as happened just yesterday, when I pull up to an empty beach pullout, look at empty-but-barely rideable waves; and, though I’d hope for another foot of wave face, there was no doubt I’d be going out. “It’s practice” I tell myself, and others, “for when it gets, you know, bigger.” My motto is, after all, “I’m here to surf.” It’s the riding of waves that matters to me.

That's Keith Darrock tucking into the outside bomb. Keith described the waves this day as 'kind of weak,' but went out anyway. The question Keith and I ask each other when waves are borderline flat, is, "Would Rico go?" Unfortunately, Rico moved to Maine, probably going on a few thigh-to-knee rollers there.

That’s Keith tucking into the outside bomb as I contemplate a move to the right with a move toward the nose. Really. Keith described the waves this day as ‘kind of weak,’ but went out anyway. The question Keith and I ask each other when waves are borderline flat, is, “Would Rico go?”  Rico (Moore, I think) moved to Port Townsend, surfed even waves I wouldn’t make a try for. When he broke one of his fins on the rocks, he fashioned an embarrassingly crude one out of wood; then broke that one off (lots of big rocks, some popping up in the waves). Rico has since moved to Maine, probably  (hopefully) going on a few thigh-to-knee rollers there.

No, I’m not so stoked on posting these photos of me. I’ve put it off, but, since I’ve lost, like, three pounds since these were taken by Tim Nolan, who also would go on any size wave, here they are. Meanwhile, once my go-to board dries out again, maybe I’ll find some time to patch those dings. Oh, and I promise, no more shots of me unless it’s head high. Okay, chest high. And now I’m hoping and praying for overhead. However, if I can catch a wave, I’m going.

Archie Endo shot this one. It's, like, waist-high, right?

Archie Endo shot this one. It’s, like, waist-high, right?

Drop in on the Mild-Mannered(?) Librarian, and What do you Get?

Posted on by under aggressive surfers, getting barrelled, learning to surf, real surfers
I heard about the photo before I saw it. “It has to be Keith,” Adam “Wipeout” James told me. Then we all met in the water, Adam mentioned it to Keith. “Could be,” Keith said. Then he sent the photo to Keith and me under the heading, “Either of you recognize this hooded surfer?” Then…
7/21/15
To: Adam James
I don’t immediately recognize the surfer in question, but the photo is my new screensaver.
Who sent this shot? It’s so clear, so up close and personal.
It’s like, um, Exhibit #1, misdemeanor drop in, with felony attempted assault with a deadly SUP.
And what about the paddle?
I think it’s self defense as the defendant claimed.
The photo really needs to go on realsurfers.net.
Erwin
Keith Darrock
 7/21/15
To: Adam James, Erwin and or Trisha Dence
 ?That’s classic! Yes, that’s me getting dropped in on by a large, helmet wearing, SUP rider. I totally remember that wave/day well. It was last winter around Christmas when Erwin, Steve and I rode out together – getting a speeding and non-seat-belt wearing ticket in route. I think you came later, Adam. The waves were solid but it got really crowded fast. I had been on that wave since the top of the point when she blatantly dropped in on me without looking about half way down. The shove was purely out of safety.
You can post the photo, Erwin.
Keith
Adam James
7/21/15
To: Keith DarrockCc: Erwin and or Trisha Dence
No idea who the photographer is. I just saved a screen shot from his instagram feed. I was sleuthing surf shots last  Saturday morning while the kids were snoozing, having coffee and thinking about all the surf I was missing and I just happened across it.   AJ
Actually, I have seen the woman in question out on the Strait several times. The first time I desperately wanted to tell her, “Your Mom’s not here; you don’t have to wear the helmet.” The second time was probably on this day. I was pretty busy having lost my board after my leash got ripped loose, first thing in the morning. Swimming with a paddle isn’t all that much fun, with the high tide causing a big beach swirl. My board, which had been caught in the rip, was rescued by Big Dave (thanks, BD). I was not quite my confident self for a while after that, knee-boarding on a few waves I would have (really) stood up on; and then it got crowded.
Still, Dave and Stephen and I were getting waves, though Brett, electrician from Port Townsend, got vocal with a longboarder with a shamrock on his board who was going for the best of the set waves, and actually (I witnessed this) pushed Brett’s board back as the guy on the smaller board tried to take off. AND, Adam just reminded me, a kayaker with a sparkly rig (not common at this spot) and Mr. Wipeout had a bit of an altercation. “Oh; yeah; I’d forgotten that.”
And, of course, there were other surfers clogging the inside, resulting in several other near-misses. And, of course, there was the speeding ticket for me (I went to court and got it reduced) and the no-seatbelt ticket for Keith (he paid it, his wife, Marley, temporarily banned him from riding with me- yes, I should have had the back seat belts out); AND half the surfers on the beach witnessed the pull-over. “Man, when I went by you were spread eagle on the side of the car.” No, I was trying to fish out the belts.
It seemed everyone was at that spot that day. Later, Jeff Parrish, who no longer prowls the Strait with me, sent me a video entitled “Kneeboard Magic,” featuring me, three bottom turns, three speed sections, and a clean pullout. You’ll have to take my word for it.
AND, the last time I saw the helmet-wearing SUP rider, her surfing had improved, and, since she hadn’t (though others had) dropped in on me, after I got dressed and loaded-up, I walked over to give her a couple of words of encouragement. Really.

Screenshot_2015-07-20-22-36-46-1

What Stephen Davis was doing while Kelly and Dane lost their heats in Fiji, but before Owen blasted his first 20 point heat

Posted on by under aggressive surfers, northwest surfing, real surfers, surf photos

photo(10)

Porter Hammer took this photo of Hydrosexual (surf, kite surf, ice hockey, swimming, etc, etc) Stephen Davis s-turning his sailboat past the tourists, some already, no doubt, below decks.

I was on my way home, Trish commentating on the last of Kelly’s defeat (“The waves are really terrible. OOps, he wiped out again.”). I got home in time for the last of Dane’s heat. I did witness, live via computer, Kelly’s and Dane’s earlier dominant heat wins. AND, I did see Owen score two tens in five minutes. The final, yesterday, got his 20 point heat on the recap.

Meanwhile…

Big Dave Sets the Record Strait

Posted on by under aggressive surfers, real surfers, surf adventures, surfing the strait of juan de fuca

Let me trace back the rumor: I heard it from Adam ‘Wipeout’ James, who heard it from Frank Crippen, owner of the North by Northwest Surf Shop, the local shop for the Olympic Peninsula; Big Dave had been hit in the face during an altercation at one of the (frequently overly) popular individual surfing spots at a rivermouth/point/beach surf playground that [legally-required disclaimer] actually very rarely breaks.

Wait! Wait! “Big”  Dave, the guy who rides a standup paddleboard like a regular longboard?

So, today, Keith Darrock and I got to a different rivermouth/reef break [that even more rarely breaks], ran into Tim Nolan, a kid named Cooper, there with him, and, down the beach a ways, there was the very same Big Dave, the guy who was a 15 year old surfer at Crystal Pier when I moved to Pacific Beach in 1971. Keith said he very rarely surfs this spot [partially because of the already-mentioned fact that it so rarely breaks], “But, every time I do, there’s Big Dave.”

DCIM101GOPRO

The record had to be set straight. I asked, out in the water, but Dave (hey, it’s not like I know him well enough to know his last name- for all I know ‘Big’ is his first name) repeated the story for Keith as we left. He’s eating, like, I don’t know, hummus.

DCIM101GOPRO

DAVE’S STORY, paraphrased extensively: “Things got out of hand.” “Yeah, but, specifically to the allegation that you were punched in the face…” “He just sort of grazed me.” It seems Dave was surfing alone for a while; and then it got crowded,and this one guy was turning and cutting other surfers off. Dave took offense. [insert grazing punch here; I think]. However, somehow Dave came into possession of the younger guy’s short board, which he used to stab the fellow in the chest with, then slash at the guy (I’m imagining a big-ass sword here), then threw the board, sort of sideways, I’m guessing, striking the guy about the shoulders, head, and chest. Going back to his own board, Dave then came close to running the guy over on the next set wave.  “It was pretty unnecessary,” Dave said.

Now I’m forgetting everything about the alleged incident at an unnamed spot that very rarely, if ever has waves. But, meanwhile, librarian Keith Darrock pointed out that I constantly say ‘Straits of Juan de Fuca.’ “There’s only one strait. Singular. It’s the ‘Strait’ of Juan de Fuca.”

I stand corrected.

Silvana Lima, Sally Fitzgibbons, Substantial-ness: Surf Blogging/Riffing/Ranting

Posted on by under aggressive surfers, northwest surfing, old surfers, real surfers, secret surf spots on the Straits of Juan de Fuca, SUP surfing, surf culture events, surf photos, surf satire, surf sessions, surfing in Washington State, Uncategorized, writings of Erwin Dence

I do spend some amount of time corresponding about surf sessions, mostly with longterm friend Ray Hicks, down in San Diego’s North County, and with surfing’s preeminent literary guru, Drew Kampion, now residing near the last reaches of Northwest swells. In both of these cases, partially because I can type very quickly, I blather on, words (it’s the same when I’m speaking, actually) often ahead of my brain, these missives (see how I try to sound sorta literate?) often eliciting a very terse and very clever response.

Okay, so there’s one thing. Another thing is that people keep referring to my ‘site’ as a ‘blog.’ Nooooo! Not what I intended.

Okay, sometimes, maybe, it is a blog. The following is something I wrote to Drew, also trying to get him committed to coming across the ferry to participate in the “Second Annual Surf Culture on the Straits of Juan de Fuca and the Salish Sea” in Port Townsend on July 11. He asked, in his response if I was going to put it, or a version of it, on my… yeah… blog. So, with a few additions (and, yes, I did come up with the title for the upcoming event, pretty proud of the ‘occasional’ part), here’s a BLOG POSTING:

I got home yesterday (worked more like a day shift, this time, so I could get help, closed down one of two stairwells- hey, there’s also an elevator) just after the last semi-final heat in Fiji. With Trish shopping in Sequim, I did get to see the final, though I was, at the same time, catching up on the latest DVRed “Penny Dreadful,” which Trish hates, and got to talk on the phone with our daughter Drucilla, walking home from work in downtown Chicago, for most of the heat. So, perfect, no sound on either screen. But, with the show over and me off the phone for the last five minutes or so, I was able to concentrate on the drama in Fiji (Sally Fitzgibbons, with a perforated eardrum, vs. Bianca Buitendag).

from WSL

from WSL

Maybe I pay too much attention to these contests and buy into the drama too much (some of it, no doubt, more hype than reality), but, after seeing Sally breaking down in the rental car with both her parents at Honolua Bay last year, I had to root for her.
AND, watching the last part of the DVRed TV version of the Rio contest (kind of a surf-related evening), I caught the little thing on Silvana Lima (which I’d missed in watching the event live- as I could), selling her apartment and car to support her contest habit/dream, and, because I buy into any sports related drama, from any sport, I’m hoping, with the enthusiasm for surfing in Brazil, that some sponsor steps in.

from pinterest

from pinterest


AND, My daughter, Dru, has moved up enough at the ad agency she works for that she currently has an intern. The big boss offered a seat in the luxury box for a game of the Stanley Cup (or the preliminaries, I’m not sure) to the intern who writes the best paragraph by the end of the day on why he or she should attend. After offering a few phrases (brutal ballet, ultra-padded gladiators), I just spent half an hour writhing (I mean writing. Maybe) a paragraph. Hopeful.
AND… I ran into a guy at a Poulsbo paint store who used to surf, so naturally…had to talk surfing. At some point he (he being tall, skinny, nearly seventy) mentioned localism, regular surfers vs. longboarders. I said I haven’t had any real problems. “Probably not,” he said, kind of giving me that look skinny people reserve for the rest of us. “What do you mean by that?” “Well,” he said, “you’re kind of… substantial.”
Okay; so now I may run the photo of me looking, not old and fat (as I thought, and continue to think); just substantial.
FIJI for men starting soon. Still rooting for Kelly, now representing… brief brain freeze with image of Felipe Toledo giving Gabriel Medina a bit of a shove… yeah, the drama, real and imagined, starts later today. If I quit writing and take off for work now… maybe I can catch more than the highlights.

originally saved under 'fatErwinripping,' now captioned 'substantialErwin(still)ripping.' Photo by Jeffrey Vaughan.

originally saved under ‘fatErwinripping,’ now captioned ‘substantialErwin(still)ripping.’ Photo by Jeffrey Vaughan.