Surfing Cornwall Walls with Nick Evans

Posted on December 18, 2014 by Erwin A. Dence Jr. under surf adventures, surf sessions, surf stories, surfing Cornwall, surfing tales

This is a photo of Nick Evans at some secret spot on the west coast of Cornwall. Well, maybe it’s a secret; but the photo Nick’s cousin, Frances, sent me (at my request, several of them) labeled it as Nick at Hamblyn Bay. Wait; I may have misspelled that name; the photo may have been mislabeled; and, anyway, I don’t live in England, and, even if I did, I’d probably miss these conditions.

Now, if I captioned the photo, it’d have to be “Nick Evans bottom turns into a Cornwall wall.”

Oh, I just checked, while adding the additional photos, and it may actually be Harlyn Bay. Hey, I have a bit of trouble pronouncing old world English. When another surfer from there, a few years ago, whipped out a map after I’d told him I get most of my surf forecasting from Magic Seaweed, which, evidently, comes from somewhere where they actually are in the same time zone as Greenwich (Green’-witch, right? No) Mean Time; I pointed to ‘Bude,’ mentioned occasionally on one of our favorite (favourite maybe, to ya’ll) PBS imports, “Doc Martin;” said, “Yeah, Bude;” and he corrected my mistake of thinking it would possibly be a one syllable word. “It’s pronounced ‘Be-ude.’ ”

Also, I should say the other photos may not be Uncle Nick, but photos taken by him. Just to clarify, though, the surfers do seem to be in position on waves I’d love to share*.

I actually almost met Nick, his obvious coolness revealed by his not donning the hood along with the gloves and booties, when he visited his niece and her husband, Morgan, at their second home high above the bay at Pulali Point in Brinnon, Washington, one of the fingers of the Hood Canal. I was there for a meeting in connection with bleaching and refinishing the place, just for informational purposes. Nick was asleep, resting after a trip up to British Columbia to surf the Canadian (still closer to England than we are) waves at Tofino. I’d pronounce it ‘Tow-Fee-No,’ correct at will.

It may be just too too obvious that I’d be very happy to have a few more eyes on realsurfers.net from the British Isles (is it okay to call them that? It’s not like they all get along). My mother’s family came to America from Wales. My family name, Dence, dates back to middle English, first used on the Northeast side of the island, and evidently means ‘The Dane,’ and, I like to say to pretty much anyone who would still be listening, “And not in a nice way.”

Vikings, just another group wanting to conquer and rule. Or maybe they just wanted to share; as in, cruise around “Doc Martin” territory, share a few waves with Nick and his surf buddies, head down to the local pub, throw back a pint or three. “Throw back,” would that make me sound, you know, local? What if I wore a tweed coat? Forget it, I don’t even fit in here.

Disclaimer: If it suddenly gets crowded with Yanks (Yankers?) at your favourite surf spot, please don’t blame Nick Evans. Blame his Americanized niece, Frances. “Frances?” “Yes, like the country.” “Okay. Frances.”

*share- (Erwin’s definition)- to catch all the waves I can, often calling for the second or third wave in a set so others can get the first ones. As far as sharing a wave- okay if you’re WAY out in front.

A Couple of Mysteries On and Beyond the Straits of Juan de Fuca

Posted on December 16, 2014 by Erwin A. Dence Jr. under northwest surfing, secret surf spots on the Straits of Juan de Fuca, surf adventures, surf illustrations, surf sessions, surf stories

I’ve been working in Port Townsend for the past week or so, hoping some waves come down the Straits of Juan de Fuca and grace the local shoreline. This is frustrating business, and, with windows in which actual waves actually break small, I just missed a couple of times. Tide too high, swell too south, not enough prayer, whatever.

On Tuesday evening, having already checked earlier, I pulled into the parking area in a downpour to see both of the guys out catch a couple of waves each… then, waiting, waiting… nothing. I went to the Penny Saver and talked with a guy I’d seen at the beach. His name (I asked later) is Will, and he’d just moved from the ‘West End,’ knew a few local surfers.

Nothing hitting on Wednesday. Or Thursday.

I did go out on Friday. One other guy, Tim (I ask names but usually forget them)who had cruised around and had been skunked on the Straits, thought he’d found some. He was wrong. I hit a few rocks, did a pull-the-fin-sideslip a couple of times, paddled in, gave myself a 6.5 for the dismount.

On Saturday, a few actual waves were showing, and the crew that would show up at the best-guess time for waves wasn’t around, evidently headed west to the Far Straits or the Farther Coast. Keith Darrock was out, and an electrician (Brett or Brent) who said he and I had ‘shared blood’ on job sites, and the waves were, indeed, slightly larger. Still, they pretty much disappeared after an hour or so, but, later, Keith already dressed, the set of the day came in. Then, waiting, waiting… ready to go back out… nothing.

On Sunday I listened to the Seahawks, did some repairs after the previous week’s rain and wind.

On Monday I was supposed to go west with Stephen Davis. I punked out, now having to catch up on work missed while hanging around looking for surf, talking surf. The swell was WSW, not conducive, typically, for the Straits.

On Monday night, working late, Trish called me to say the Port Townsend fire department was conducting a search off Port Townsend for someone who had said he was suicidal, and whose car was found in the parking area at the very beach I had (sort of) surfed so recently.

Later Monday night, Stephen Davis sent me this photo. No information. Maybe it’s that spot Steve and I had promised each other we’d hit, a spot I’d heard about for years. You now know as much as I do. Now. Another mystery spot.

It’s Tuesday. I checked the buoys, checked the forecast, checked my hotmail, wrote my friend, Ray Hicks, my longest-term surfing friend (off and on, known him since 6th grade), checked ptleader.com for any update on possible drowning/suicide. Sadly, there was something; a body had been pulled from the water half a mile or so down the beach from the place I’d so recently surfed. The name hasn’t been released yet. It’s tragic.

Mystery. Mysteries. I’ll find out more about this wave, whether Stephen surfed it; how much I missed. Later. If all is never really fully revealed, frequently enough is. Meanwhile… meanwhile we wait. Or we go looking.

Today’s Uncrowded (almost) Offshore Westport Storm Surf

Posted on December 11, 2014 by Erwin A. Dence Jr. under northwest surfing, surf adventures, surf illustrations, surf sessions, surf stories

So, I was out in that northwest winter version of afternoon/almost-dark, sitting in my work van in a rainstorm, trying to see pretty much anything through the fogged-in (plus a couple of leaks) inside and the furiously beating-but-not-keeping-up windshield-wipers, somewhat desperately looking for any sign of surf. Just as a small wave approached the two guys out, one of them (I think) rock-standing-while-waiting, an extra surfboard that was supposed to be on the low bluff blew over the small bluff and into the shorebreak.

Actually the shorebreak was the only break.

Hey, maybe tomorrow the Pineapple Express will make a little jog, and, whoa!

So, since I didn’t recognize the vehicle two down in the parking area, hence, didn’t know who the surfers in the water riding waves even I couldn’t quite get up the enthusiasm to ride, I called Keith, gave him the report. I had checked it early, ‘flat;’ Keith at mid-day, flat, with ‘some lines showing,’ and now I was checking it again, ‘pretty flat, offshore, though; with two guys out.’ I called Stephen (you remember, the hydroxexual) Davis, got his voicemail, told him Keith and I are still looking at (oh, I can’t say, do your own forecasting), invited him along. Then I called Trish to tell her I’d be home earlier due to a lack of surf to ride and a lack of desire to go back to my job. Then, heading to the Penny Saver for some of that almost-like-homemade salads, I gave Adam “Wipeout” James a call, just to make sure it wasn’t him and one of his friends out in the cold chop, not catching many ‘head high’ waves.

Yeah, because the waves are always ‘head high’ in Adam’s reports.

But, it wasn’t Adam and a friend I’d seen, unless they got out, Adam checked his voicemail, and called me in the four minutes since I left the parking lot, and called me. He mentioned another friend of his had been to Westport today, and that he’d sent him a photo which he’d send to me. Yeah, the one above; high tide, semi-offshore, no one out, and, of course, ‘head high.’ Of course. Thanks Adam’s friend.

Hey, I only posted something, like, yesterday or the day before, but, sure, this is news. Sort of.

Still, if you don’t have the time or inclination to check out the last post…

Maybe tomorrow the… I’ll let you know.

My Custom-Tailored 1965 Shortjohn Wetsuit

Posted on December 9, 2014 by Erwin A. Dence Jr. under northwest surfing, surf adventures, surf illustrations, surf sessions, surf stories, surfing art, surfing Southern California in the 60s, surfing tales, Uncategorized

My First Wetsuit- 1965
Because it’s December, because I’m thinking about what wetsuit items I need for the colder WINTER season, it seemed like a great time to relive a few things about my first wetsuit, the classic CALIFORNIA SURFER’S SHORT JOHN, custom fit in 1965, and purchased for the sum on $15.00, plus tax. Not to give too much away too soon. So:
BOOTIES- Very fine. My daughter, Dru, bought them for my birthday. Because I have a bone spur/bursitis on my heel of my left foot, I’ve been sticking with the zip up pair I bought from a dive shop in Bremerton, though I’ve ripped through the material in a few places. So, no new booties; I can take the tightness if I don’t have to hike too far.
VEST/HOOD- In pretty good shape. Fine. This piece adds an added mil of rubber for my core. It’s a bit tighter than I might like, but, well, maybe that’s something I can work on. No, not cutting it and adding more material.
RASH GUARD- It’s fine, does its job; could use a higher neck area, and it never seems to dry out. Yes, I could bring it in the house. Okay, no new rash guard.
3/2 MIL (or is it 4/3?) BODY GLOVE LONGJOHN WETSUIT, with back zipper- Broken string replaced with longer, sturdier shoe laces, this piece was purchased in a Seattle surf shop (I was doing a job in Queen Anne, it’s the shop by the Aurora Avenue Bridge) for about one hundred dollars (plus tax), and had been (lightly) used in the shop’s rental/surf school operation down at Short Sands in Oregon; so, though I’m sure it did contain some residue of someone else’s urine, it was probably a specialty tea drinker from some Portland office complex, trying to seem more interesting (“You do know I surf, right?”), and maybe (because it is big enough to fit me, maybe the renter wanted to lose a few pounds. Yeah, the suit is getting a bit thin in the places I grip to get it into position, yes, I have patched a few spots with material cut from my previous wetsuit… So, probably not getting a new wetsuit this year. And, incidentally, I did offer the folks at my local(ish) surf shop, NXNW SURF, in Port Angeles, an opportunity to sell me a rental wetsuit; the kid working probably didn’t pass the word on to Frank Crippen. Oh, and, as I did when I got this suit, I want my next one to be a size smaller. Working on it.
GLOVES- I have several pairs of worn out gloves. I definitely need new gloves. Santa?

PHILLIP C. HARPER , my first surfing buddy, now Dr. Phillip C. Harper (I added this for when he googles himself), as with all things surfing, found out for both of us how to get proper gear for our first winter season as surfers. He may have already gone for his fitting, but was kind enough to go, after school, with my Mom and me to the shop over by Oceanside Harbor. It was somewhere around December tenth.
The date meant the wetsuit would be my main Christmas present. It also related to the unofficial (but very important) rule that REAL SURFERS don’t don wetsuits until the water temperature drops to 58, and cease wearing them when the temperature comes back up to the magical 58 degree mark, usually some time around Easter Vacation.
MEASURING- This is always embarrassing for a chunky kid. It was somewhat lessened by the fact that Phillip and I had both gone out for wrestling as freshmen at Fallbrook High, and we both knew he weighed somewhere around a hundred pounds, and I had started out the season at 130, but somehow, with strict dieting and exercise (and as much surfing as possible) had ended up the season at 136. Vertical growth, maybe. I got through the measuring, and we got to do some surfing before going back home. Phillip was the guy in a wetsuit. Fine; he needed it more.
STYLE- The wetsuit had no zipper, but did have a, new that year, stainless steel closing mechanism on one shoulder. Stylish and out of the way.
PERSONAL STYLE- Maybe it was more modesty than fashion that made me want to wear trunks over my wetsuit. I’m going to say it was, perhaps, consideration for other surfers who were more, um, err, modestly-endowed, because… anyway; I did soon discover that my Hawaiian Jams, all the rage (according to Phillip) would rip out even faster when worn over the suit. They just didn’t ‘ride up’ properly. But, this didn’t stop me from wearing a t shirt under the suit; sort of an early rash guard effect, though the extra layer did nothing to promote warmth.
NOWADAYS (and for a long time now) surfers wear wetsuits in the summer, even longjohn wetsuits in the summer. Hey, I’m not judging; it’s no longer cool to be cold; and, it must be said, wetsuits are better than ever. I rarely get as cold in water that drops to as low as 43 degrees, possibly lower near the rivers coming off the nearby Olympic Mountains, as I did in the depths of winter in 1966, clad in my Beach Boys (style) striped shirt, my custom short john with the stainless steel closure, and my first pair of Hang Ten trunks. Phillip, no doubt, pointed out the unofficial (but strictly enforced by peer pressure) requirement for real surfers to wear surfing trunks, along with my surf wardrobe of Levis (not Sears or Pennys) jeans, Pennys t shirts, and a properly-showy windbreaker.
Actually, I purchased a pair of Jantzen trunks before the Hang Tens, at the Men’s Shop in downtown Fallbrook, along with gym trunks and an (and I was so embarrassed to ask for this that I wandered around the shop for a long time) athletic supporter. Not wanting to be measured, the trunks (and I think they just ‘ran’ small) were too tight to wear even under a wetsuit; but the other items, with the ‘boys large’ stickers, fit fine.
Not bragging.
No, I don’t wear trunks over my wetsuit. I did mention how cold the water is, right? Colder for some than others.
Again, not bragging.

Another Un-named Surfer at Another Secret Straits Spot

Posted on December 3, 2014 by Erwin A. Dence Jr. under northwest surfing, surf adventures, surf illustrations, surf sessions, surf stories, surfing art, surfing tales, Uncategorized

This photo was taken by Adam “Wipeout” James on the Sunday after I surfed with this guy on a late Saturday afternoon. Maybe it was the next Sunday; I lose track. Even if it wasn’t, the surfer (we’ll call him Clint) seems to be trolling the Straits of Juan de Fuca looking for surf. And, sometimes, finding it.

I was a little surprised when he told me, on whatever Saturday evening it was, that he was camping out, hoping for more waves the next morning. “It’s a long night,” I told him. I’d rather drive back home and return in the morning. Not that I did. the short wave window had, in my estimation, already passed. Now, maybe Monday; Monday had been the day I’d been looking at for a while. Better tides, maybe better swell angle; but I had already committed to working “across the water,” as we say, in Seattle. No, I wasn’t staying overnight there either. I can sleep on a ferry, just not so well in a lot close to a road, where other surf surfarians pull in and, I’ve heard, sometimes party down.

THE STORY ON CLINT, who had already surfed some “a little windy, but not crowded” waves at another spot on the Saturday when I ran into him, is he did some surfing on Sunday, with Adam also involved in the action, then checked out this secret spot closer to his home. Meanwhile, Adam surfed another, even more secret spot with Keith. Now, Adam’s excuse/explanation for not surfing up to his full potential and ability at that super secret spot, is that he went to a restaurant in between, you know, like social surfers do, and ate more teriyaki than he should have. But, he told me (this would be on Monday) that he’d surfed well on Sunday in the first, pre-teriyaki/hangin’-with-the-bros session, which also included Nate, who built and sold Adam at least one Bob Simmons-style twin fin, and some other guy who Adam didn’t fully identify, and whose name I’ve forgotten (or didn’t bother to try to remember). Those two guys remained on the shore as Adam and Keith surfed, the waves fading fast, but Nate offered to sell Keith a Robert August “Wingnut” surfboard, a leash, and a board bag, for a really good price.

Not that it’s really pertinent, but Keith called me (in Seattle, working, after getting lost) to ask if I thought the potential purchase was a good deal. “You know, I once surfed in a heat against Wingnut…” “Erwin, I have to talk now.” “Yeah, okay, um, yeah; I’m sure it’s…” “Gotta go.”

Okay, so, in the process of delivering the board and stuff to Keith on Monday, Nate, with or without his friend, but without Adam, decided to head out farther on the Straits. They didn’t find rideable waves, but saw Clint’s Camper, but no Clint. So, they decided to go the actual coast. It was big, a little out of control, and the surfers out were having troubles. So, Nate and his friend stayed on the beach where they witnessed Clint (who, his rig broken down, maybe, had hitched a ride farther out) go over the falls at least once; maybe twice.

So, Nate relayed this message to Adam, because Adam just has to know these things, and he called me the next day (I was still, or, really, again, in Seattle), wouldn’t let me talk over him until he told me that he had talked to Clint, asked him how the session on the coast had gone, and, and Adam says this really speaks to Clint’s authenticity (because Clint didn’t know he was being observed. See? Yes, Adam, I get it), Clint said, “Actually, kind of shitty.”

If it had been me, I would have said, “You know, great.”

Then again, even going over the falls beats camping on a long ass northwest winter night.

Selfie No. 37, Go Pro Joe, Bro

Posted on November 28, 2014 by Erwin A. Dence Jr. under northwest surfing, surf adventures, surf illustrations, surf sessions, surf stories, surfing art, surfing tales, Uncategorized

What really happened is this guy paddled out on a really long long board, a bit closer to dark than when I had. Since it was only Clint, me, this guy, and his girlfriend out, I thought I should ask him something. You know, seem friendly. Not that I am. Friendly. What I asked is, “Go Pro, huh?” What he said was, “Uh huh,” adding, sort of sarcastically, I felt, “And why not?” “Oh, sure,” I said, “You don’t want to miss anything.” He paddled off, caught the one wave I would see him catch, way on the inside, way down the line. I hope he got a good, um, video. I’ve always thought the shots taken from the front of the board, no matter how good the surfer is, how big the wave is, seem to really show someone doing some sort of exercising, maybe with dance tunes playing in their heads. Disco, maybe.
But really, I’d rather add something to the story, like, me asking, “So, you send a lot of selfies?” This would be responded to, with him saying, “Oh, yes, and I use a variety of social media devices.” “Uh, huh, and, um, a little light, waterproof surf makeup might be…” And he’d say, “Oh, I do my own. You never who’ll see my next viral performance, and….”
…And, and, and, and I’m still thinking of lines for him and clever and wicked lines for me, and, well, it gets confusing because then I start thinking about how awesome a go pro dealeo I could make; dropping in late, dropping sideways, free-falling, catching a rail, going highline… you know, not me, just by me of an awesome ride. By me. Me, because I don’t do selfies. Really.

How to ‘Water-Proof’ Your Child

Posted on November 21, 2014 by Erwin A. Dence Jr. under northwest surfing, surf adventures, surf illustrations, surf sessions, surf stories, surfing tales, Uncategorized

“Daddy, is that what will happen to me if I go in the (pointing) ocean?”

“Well, yes; it could. I mean, no, no; that sea lion was probably old and… The ocean (pointing) is a dangerous place and…”

“Will a seagull (pointing at the carcass) bite my eyeballs out?”

“No. No. Probably not. Usually some… (fluttering his eyes) small fish will…”

“But… (points) you go in the ocean; and you don’t get eaten.”

“Well, yes; but that’s because… (points to himself) I…”

“Do you have… (puffs out his chest, strikes pose) super powers? I mean, when you put on your costume, and…”

“Super? Well; sometimes… (puffs chest, strikes several surfing poses) I get a super ride; a head dip or, um, three; but usually…”

“I want a blue and red costume when I get super powers. Okay? Oh, and, Daddy; you know… (walks closer) you’ve just given me Post Twamatic Stwess Disorder… for life, and, someday, when I’m older, with or without my superpowers; I will have to sue you. (long pause, looking into each others’ eyes) Oh, and about swimming in the pool, later; I won’t need the waterwings. I’ll just watch.”

“No, no; watching’s good. You know I’m supposed to be watching you. Right? Well, if Daddy catches a few waves…”

“Sure, Daddy; But remember it when you give… (removes a glove for effect) your deposition. (smiles somewhat menacingly) Later. Much later.”

Thanks to Adam James for the photo, one of several from a recent James Family trip to the Long Beach Peninsula area of Washington State.

Celebrating the Wave

Posted on November 17, 2014 by Erwin A. Dence Jr. under northwest surfing, surf adventures, surf illustrations, surf sessions, surf stories, surfing art, surfing tales, Uncategorized

Other than hydrosexual (in love with all sports water-in any form-related) Stephen Davis and me, there were only two other surfers out on this particular section of track. Track, I say, partially because Stephen described the inside section, after the late-takeoff-only drop, after the first bowling portion, as a ‘racetrack.’ Yeah, but this was a morning when the dark swells approached, lining up way up the point, and advanced toward us like high speed freight trains, heavy. spinning.

I’d love to make some comparison to cement mixers, though they’d have to be backing up, the barrels moving, counter-clockwise, one just to the right and behind another, picking up the chalky water flowing out of the Olympic Mountains, approaching, closer; and as each wave did, it would pick up that gray-green color characteristic of cold, cold water.

With the sky threatening, layers and splotches of muted greys, near-blues, and the surface glassy, reflecting those subtle tones, and another four wave set (one each) moving steadily toward the little point in a long sweep, one of the other two guys, looking up the long lines, gave the wave the universal gesture of celebration, of jubilation, of appreciation.

A bit farther down the track, I turned and paddled.

Bro-dads

Posted on November 10, 2014 by Erwin A. Dence Jr. under northwest surfing, surf adventures, surf illustrations, surf sessions, surf stories, surfing art, surfing tales, Uncategorized

The word HODAD, back a ways in surf jargon, was used to identify people who had all the proper items necessary to look like surfers, you just never actually saw them surf. It should be mentioned that no surfer believes another person surfs if that person hasn’t been observed by that first person, surfing. And, even then, if the possible Hodad isn’t seen actually catching waves, the possible-poser might be merely relabeled as a KOOK. Even having multiple surfboards, wearing the proper semi-authorized surf garb, having appropriately cool stickers on your appropriate surf vehicle, and having a working knowledge of surf spots from Mainland Mexico to Alaska, and having the ability to drop names of surf legends/stars, and some local heroes, from Bob Simmons to Robert Kelly Slater, and having conversational/storytelling skills that would hold up in parking areas from Swamis to Velzyland, and… wait a minute; I’m sort of describing myself.

No, no; it can’t be.

I’m not nearly friendly enough to be a BRODAD. And besides, most of my beachside surf wear comes from Goodwill, my wetsuit is ragged, patched with cutouts from old wetsuits, my surf rig smells like mildew and, again, old wetsuits; my boards are dinged, yellowed, the wax dirty.

Oh, yeah; I know how to look like a REALSURFER, BRO. Except, BRAH (and I never really use either of these terms in real life), I do get in the water.

To surf.

Alternate ‘Power Couples’ with Larger Drawing (same drawing only larger)

Posted on November 5, 2014 by Erwin A. Dence Jr. under northwest surfing, surf adventures, surf illustrations, surf sessions, surf stories, surfing art, surfing tales

There are some surfing power couples I really like: Gordon and Lynn, Cash and Tanya... okay, I'll add my former surfing trip friend (he has new friends) Jeff and his wife, my daughter Dru's childhood friend, Ruth, now, since she learned at a Holly Beck-led surf camp in Costa Rica a few years ago, also a surfer. It seems that more women are getting into surfing all the time. And more are competitive with their men. That's all fine. That I find some surfing couples interesting and amusing. An example would be the couple that cruised their mini-van into a parking spot at a spot (non-secret) on the Straits of Juan de Fuca, The woman dealt with the children as the man threw on a short john wetsuit (it was summer, water still cold), grabbed the SUP off the roof, ran out, caught two quick waves, raced back in, stripped off the wetsuit, switched over to watching the two kids as the woman donned the same wetsuit (I'm pretty sure), walked down to the water, picked up the SUP, headed out. "I got to surf Westport last Saturday," the husband said, "It's her turn." When I cleared my throat as a sort of question, he explained, "I was just showing her where to take off." "Sure." Then, like individual surfers I find annoying, sometimes surf power couples (and I have called couples out, they always denying or amused by the 'power' part) can have that, "We're so cool" type of self-conscious/aware that seems... okay, nevermind; don't want to seem petty. Or, maybe, jealous. Now, my power woman, Trish, will tell anyone that she actually rode surfboards before I did. It's true. Okay, I have nothing more to say on the subject. Maybe later.

I actually started writing this before I wrote the article now behind it on my site; really more a session report than something on power couples. Please check it out, also. I just wanted a larger version of the drawing and most of the copy below came with it. Still, I can’t seem to create new paragraphs since this is really a (protracted) caption. So… There are some surfing power couples I really like: Gordon and Lynn, Cash and Tanya… okay, I’ll add my former surfing trip friend (he has new friends, better friends) Jeff Parrish and his wife, my daughter Dru’s childhood friend, Ruth, who now, since she attended a Holly Beck-led surf camp in Costa Rica a few years ago, is also a surfer. Go Ruth!
It seems that more women are getting into surfing all the time. That’s fine. I actually prefer women (probably didn’t need to say that). And these new surfers seem to be sort of, um, competitive with their men.
That’s all fine. Initially starting the drawing because I find some surfing power couples (the ones that are just too cool- as if they bring the cool to surfing while, obviously, surfing, like wearing really fashionable clothes- adds to their joint coolness- I feel the same way about individual surfers) annoying, I find others interesting and, sometimes, amusing. An example would be the couple that cruised their mini-van into a parking spot at a spot (non-secret) on the Straits of Juan de Fuca, The woman dealt with unlatching their two children as the man threw on a short john wetsuit (it was summer, water still cold), grabbed the SUP off the roof, ran out, caught two quick waves, raced back in, stripped off the wetsuit, switched over to watching the children as the woman donned the same wetsuit (I’m pretty sure), walked down to the water, picked up the SUP, headed out. “I got to surf Westport last Saturday,” the husband said, “It’s her turn.” When I cleared my throat as a sort of question, gave him a nod that, at least, he already caught two waves, he explained, “I was just showing her where to take off.” “Sure. Great.”
I have called couples out, they always denying or amused by the ‘power’ part. I’ve only done this on the beach, after I’ve surfed myself out, when they can’t decide whether to surf here, head for Neah Bay, or cruise back to Joyce for brunch. If I haven’t surfed yet, I always recommend Hobuck. Or brunch.
Now, my power woman, Trish, will tell anyone that she actually rode surfboards before I did. It’s true. Okay, I have nothing more to say on the subject. Maybe later. Next I’m going to draw something on ‘bro-dads,’ a variation on the classic surf expression (in case you missed it in Surfing 101), “Hodads,” folks who have all the trappings of surfers, like to hang out at the beach, but never seem to make it into the water. If you’ve read this far, please go back and read the alternate version. And thanks.

Real Surfers

Shoulder-hoppers and name-droppers

Category Archives: surf stories