Category Archives: surfing blogs

Enduring the Dog Days, and “Tightening”

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, Erwin Dence surf illustrations, Original Erwin t-shirts, real surfers, surf art, surf fiction, surf illustrations, surf novels, surfing art, surfing blogs, surfing novels, writings of Erwin Dence

It’s a sort of positive for me that the summer drought on the Strait of Juan de Fuca coincides with painting season. More like consolation, with even driving to the coast not a guarantee of finding waves. Busy now, it gets crazier in September when people start panicking about getting their castle dolled-up before the rains start getting more consistent. Finding time to devote to my other passions, including drawing and writing, becomes more challenging.

BUT I do have time while scraping and painting and second-coating to think, THINKING, IMAGINING being the most crucial component in each of these activities. Imagine what the drawing COULD look like, imagine WHAT I want to convey.

IT’S A PROCESS. Not dissimilar to house painting, actually. To use the project I am currently working on as an examlple, the homeowner has a vision of what she wants her Victorian home to look like; I have my own ideas. A few color changes later, we do it her way,. with eventual agreement that it works AND it’s what the person paying me wants.

SO… I prep and paint, and it’s never one coat of any color. I paint, and then TIGHTEN UP the paint, picking up missed spots (‘holidays’ in the vernacular), making sure the transitions are crisp and clean, the result being a job I can be proud of and the client will both pay me for and recommend me to others because I did it (right).

BRIEF SURFING INTERJECTION- Having missed one opportunity summer surf, and being pissed because I could have gone and didn’t, I did get a few waves recently. Just enough, with passing fancy rigs with boards on them on a daily basis along SURF ROUTE 101, to cause me to want more. MORE.

TIGHTENING. I am going to a memorial later today for a person I have been bumping into for years on the PORT TOWNSEND. I have a story I told his widow I would tell, and I’m going to try to write it out rather than ramble on in some fashion that might embarrass the others as well as me.

BUT FIRST, “SWAMIS,” the novel I’ve been thinking about, writing, rewriting, tightening for way too long. Having thought about how I needed to tighten a SCENE with the protagonist, JOEY, and the closest character to an antagonist, BRICE LANGDON, I tried to devote a bit of time to it yesterday, but got an urgent text: THE floor guys didn’t show up, could I PLEASE do some painting. PRAYER EMOJI. Shit! Fuck! I made the changes, pulled out the thumb drive. The emergency painting and looking at another project pretty much did the day in. OH, and then thunder and lightening; the weather kind. I went to bed and did not get up early… enough.

ORIGINAL ERWIN NEWS- I paid back some seed money I was loaned by local master builder/climber/skier/hiker/all kinds of other stuff, JIM HAMILTON; the money intended for my investment in getting some t shirts going, which, four months later, I did. Most are gone now. Thanks, Jim. BUT, DWAYNE at D&L LOGOS has been working on a FULL COLOR DESIGN, and I am SOOOO excited to see the results.

DWAYNE did some digital editing and had eight of the image printed up. They are heat-transferred, in a modern, way-better version of the hated ‘iron on’ process. I have to wait to see what the my cost will be. SEVERAL are already promised. WE’LL SEE. I will get back to you on it.

IN A NOT-UNRELATED STORY, I showed my most recent illustration to the clients I met with yesterday, friends of ANNIE FERGERSON, the woman behind the recent documentary about, you know, me. NOW, I REALLY BELIEVED folks would have to have a copy. I had forty printed up, two sizes. I have 38 left, BUT, hey, sales is not what I’m good at.

Although I haven’t given them an estimate, I did get a text back saying, “this would make a great t shirt.” “Open for discussion,” I texted back. I should have included the PRAYER EMOJI, way more convincing when the two hands come together. WE’LL SEE.

ADDING TOO MUCH CONTENT to make the best use of my semi-free minute, here is a poem/song I’ve been working on. THE PROCESS is, again, the IDEA- overhearing a conversation about you; the FIRST DRAFT- this includes singing verses, trying out rhymes. This takes some time; usually when driving to or from a job; harmonica to see if there is a tune. It has to flow. And repetition to make sure I have it memorized. WRITING- Putting it on the thumb drive. REWRITING, EDITING, CHANGING- making sure it tells the story. TIGHTENING, TIGHTENING, TIGHTENING.

AGAIN, THIS is an imagined scene. Fiction. Maybe it’s a song I’ll never sing in public, a poem I’ll never recite; I don’t know; I wrote it and it’s part of the driving song collection, along with favorites by others, the result of many years of song writing.

I HAVE TO GO, and I still have to write something about the late PETER BADAME. Get some waves, huh? See you on the highway. OH, and I do claim and reserve all rights to my work, so…

                                    A PRIVATE CONVERSATION

                                                      an excerpt from some longer story

It was a private conversation, words I was not yet meant to hear,

Thought I’d surprise you at the station, couldn’t have known that I was near.

Your words and tears shared with a stranger, someone you’ve met along the line,

I should have known this was a danger, if I did not the fault is mine,

I’m sorry, so sorry.

You spoke of time apart and sorrow, now… I could barely hear your voice,

You said that love’s something we borrow, said freedom is a frightening choice.

You spoke of hope and disappointment, small victories, great tragedy,

In all the time we’ve been together, you never disappointed me.

Not ever, not ever.

I saw the touch, though at a distance, saw how your fingers were entwined,

You didn’t put up much resistance, offered a kiss, you did decline.

That’s when I walked out of the station, this is my last apology,

You should need no more explanation, perhaps we’ve set each other free.

It’s frightening… so frightening.

But that’s another conversation, a private conversation, a very frightening conversation,

A private conversation

This version: August 9, 2024. Some changes August 17, August 18, 2024. AND YES, I did make a couple of changes after I put it on this page. FLOW.

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.

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.

ART Walking, Talking, Talking, Talkinnnggg

Posted on by under Port townsend surfing, real surfers, surf art, surf culture, surf illustrations, surfing art, surfing blogs, surfing the strait of juan de fuca, writings of Erwin Dence

JOEL and RACHEL CARBEN are the proprietors of the COLAB in downtown Port Townsend. Colab as in Collaborative Work Space. Joel is one of the members (if there is such a thing) of the rabid-if-desperate and frequently-disappointed Olympic Peninsula/Strait of Juan de Fuca surf community. There is an ART WALK each month in PT (I’ve never gone on one), so, partially in the interest of promoting the COLAB enterprise (more people hanging out with laptops and connections), why not have me and two other artists show our stuff? I mean, after all, Joel does actually own the cedar art piece/surfboard shown below. Long story. I was supposed to spray paint “Locals Only” on it or something, but…

ARTISTS, huh?

As usual, I didn’t do everything right. I had a whole room to display my stuff. I didn’t put prices on things, didn’t put business cards out. And, I didn’t hang out in the room, charming the folks who came in. BUT, I now realize, the main thing I did wrong is that I didn’t take some photos of STEPHEN R. DAVIS, KEITH DARROCK, and, yeah, me, cruising around to the various galleries.

If I had you could see LIBRARIAN KEITH, as rabid a surf fanatic as I have ever run into (or been burned by), but a solid citizen, mingling with the tourists and the artists, and in the company of two, perhaps… no, I don’t know how to describe Steve and I except we’re probably not as out-there as we believe ourselves to be. I mean, I’m as CITIZEN as the next person, but Steve? ARTISTS, huh?

And we’re checking out everyone else’s art, chatting with artists, partaking in the free snacks (no wine for me, not that I’m bragging. A nice expresso would have been… appreciated).

AND IT kind of worked out. EXAMPLE- We’re at the fanciest gallery in PT (prices fancier, also- wine from bottles with, probably, recognizable names for wine aficionados- no, not Ernest & Julio), and Steve is kind of (I thought) kissing up to this artist with the tiniest possible ponytail (so high concept/fashion), and I see this kid sitting on a bench with a sweatshirt with a logo from CHRIS BAUER SURFBOARDS. “Hey, where’d you get that sweatshirt, kid?” “He’s my dad. Chris Bauer.” “Oh.” When one of the board members (because fancy galleries have boards and directors) comes over and says I’m getting a bit rowdy, I acknowledge this and ask her if he knows KEITH.

THEY chat and I go outside. Again, as with my leaving first at other venues, I sort of think, as I acknowledged, that, if I still smoked, I’d be having one at this point. OUTSIDE the gallery.

I am not a marketer. Particularly not of my stuff.

HERE’S WHERE STEPHEN R. DAVIS got it right. I was critiquing and moving, asking quick, real questions of the folks showing and explaining and (you have to guess) trying to sell their works, questions such as: “How much are the dues? How much floor time do you have to put in? Do you sell enough to make it worth it? Meanwhile, Steve, a bundle of his cards in his hand, was showing his stuff, handing out samples as business cards, making, you know, inroads into the PT art scene.

NOW WE’RE on to the post event CRITIQUE, as in, what did I do wrong? What can I do NOW? I probably should have hung around in the space at the COLAB, charminig the folks who stumbled in, maybe selling

EVEN WITH THE BARAT, would you buy art from this double-chinned fat guy in the sweatshirt for the OLYMPIC MUSIC FESTIVAL (though several people thought OMF stood for Old M F-er)?

Here’s a shot of Keith, Joel, me (hiding the double chin), and Adam “Wipeout” James.

Here’s Steve on his boat from a few years ago. AGAIN, I should have taken a few photos from the ART WALK.

BUT I did, because I was displaying some drawings I did years ago of houses in Port Townsend, get an opportunity to draw one for someone. AND I DO OWE a big thank you to JOEL and RACHEL for the opportunity. TRISH says I should give them a piece of my art. “WHY? He already has the surfboard?”

So, BIG THANK YOU! Heart emoji, hang loose emoji.

MARKETING. I’m working on it. AND I did actually have a good time, chatting it up with people I don’t know, running into some I do know (shout out to Ian), hanging with friends.

Perhaps, on Wednesday, I’ll go over how I’m getting over and/or dealing with the detached retina, the infection in my leg, both related, possibly, to a fall, and a high blood pressure situation I discovered because I just had no choice but to go to a doctor; and the double chin thing. I am totally ready to get back in the water. TAKE THIS AS A WARNING.

Good luck. And, again, if you can’t be nice, be real.

Privileged, Entitled, Narcissistic, Irrefutably Sociopathic… and Here to Surf

Posted on by under mind surfing, real surfers, surf culture, surf satire, surfing blogs

Or… Namedropping and Trolling, and sniping.

I YouTubed the latest BEACH GRIT Saturday morning. Not the hour plus version, a more user friendly ten minutes (or so) edit (I’m assuming), the first three minutes (or so) an advertisement for a solar watch I just have to purchase. The topic was… I don’t remember. Oh, yeah, it was a response to letters to the editor (sorry, emails from the blog-ets); in this case, what a surf dude should wear to get married in, from arbiters of all things surfing, David Lee Scales and Chas Smith (and I apologize for calling David Lee Seales last time). Good stuff. Not what I was intending to write about.

I got this image from “Mariska and Fernando something something.” Congratuations!

’ll get to that. FIRST, I must say I was kind of jazzed that, according to my tablet, the post had been, you know, posted, like, forty-two minutes earlier AND had, at that time, no comments. Not that I ever comment. I think it requires signing in somewhere, and emojis, and misspellings, and pretty horrific grammatic usage. BUT, I must add, I am a fan of surf-centric content, though I’ve seen enough that I fast-forward frequently; especially when (even) one of my cosmic, cloud-breaking, globe-floating surf heroes (even Nate or Jamie or any of the Koas) start hyping product and/or starts being too whiny or obsequiously and, possibly, phony-ly nice. AND I have yet to subscribe to any channel or blog. BUT, if you subscribe to worldwide (honestly, they keep track and I check… daily) non-phenomenon… realsurfers, I’m not going to beg, but so many, many thanks, many congrats on your, um, discernment (insert virtual kiss emoji here).

I DO HOPE following Dave and Chas and then commenting on their commentary doesn’t make me a troll, BUT TODAY’S TROLLING is because their recent identifying/outing TYLER WRIGHT as an entitled, privileged, ‘I’m a victim,’ narcissist got me thinking. Yes, I was kind of taken aback, while watching hours of a WSL contest from somewhere, that she mentioned, you know, menstruation and its effects on heat strategy, but I didn’t get more involved than that. BUT I don’t have the insider access D and C have.

WAIT, aren’t most sports stars a little bit… that? Aren’t most, even non-world-class surfers somewhere on the self-centered spectrum? Since I’ve long been of the opinion that most who surf with a skill level over day three surf camp (day two, private lesson) are, placed in the competitive petri dish arena at any decent surf spot, SOCIOPATHS, adding a bit of the victimhood aspect doesn’t faze me at all. OR HURT ME.

ANY OF us who have taken and/or can take the time to develop skills in a difficult sport, often performing (or trying to snag a wave if not a set bomb) in crowded conditions, might be considered Privileged, Entitled, Narcissistic, Irrefutably Sociopathic Headcases (PENIS HEADS, for short). Enjoying the activity… Separate issue. Separate posting. Later.

“Me, Me!” Mine, Mine!” “Going Right!” “Going Left!” “Going Straight!” “MeMeMine!”

TAKE THIS TEST: If you’re surfing like shit, is it someone else’s fault? Of course. Or the wrong board, or the wrong wax, or some backpaddling assholes and/or drop-in bitches (bitches in the non-gender way)? For the non-surfers, think about navigating heavy traffic (your choice of vehicle), OR the lineup at the multi-pump COSTCO. If you picked the gas tank on the right side line because you know the hose will make it AND the line is shorter, BUT some asshole decides to take his or her (formerly correct way to say ‘their’ as identifying something singular) sweet ass time topping off their Hummer or checking their mileage… whatever, YES, it is their fault that you’re late to the barbeque, their fault the guacamole went brown in your artisan sidedish.

NOT TO MAKE THIS overlong, a greater privilege for the truly entitled is to be able to write and post sarcastic, sniping commentary on, you know, like, whatever.

HOWEVER, I must add that I harbor no ill will toward Tyler, John Peck, or pretty much anyone else. WAIT. Thinking. There are, not that I’m bent too far over in a direction a reader might recognize, a few politicians I wouldn’t want to hang out with, clowns who make me a bit gRUMPy.

BY WAY of confession; when I do get up to the gas pumps, I do take my sweet-ass time.  Let’s see; 281.5 miles divided by 12.5 gallons equals 22.5 mpg. YEA! Thanks, Volvo.

AND, as with every time I see a post from Nathan or the quickie (only) from Keith Olbermann, or the first (surfing) half of a video from Mason Ho, when I next see something with David Lee and Chas; NO NEED TO ADD BAIT- Oh yes… CLICK.

NEXT TIME (maybe), Why we all want to be realer than other surfers.

Meanwhile, if you can’t be nice, be real.

ADAM’S FAMILY big island VACATION

Posted on by under real surfers, surf addiction, surf adventures, surf stories, surf trips, surfing blogs, surfing stories, surfing the strait of juan de fuca

If you rely on the waves on the Strait of Juan de Fuca to provide you with all the surfing satisfaction you can reasonably handle… well… There is a reason surfers who can go elsewhere do… go elsewhere. Of the loosely bundled group that might or might not be considered the Jefferson County CREW (as differentiated from if not opposed to the Clallam County or, heavens, the crews from King or Thurston or any other county) one is in New Zealand, another in Mexico, and two local rippers are planning a brief escape to, perhaps, Panama.

So, ADAM JAMES, who does actually live in Mason County, but, by virtue of his wide travels pushing HAMA HAMA OYSTERS to the known world, and who seems to be welcomed everywhere he goes, figured out a way to get to the BIG ISLAND, AND, AND, and to include his family: Andrea and their two sons, EMMETT and CALVIN (aka BOOMER), whose names I include because I keep having to ask Adam, AND because it is important to know more about our surf friends than whether or not they are goofy foot. Adam- no; regular foot but known to use a parallel stance on occasion.

OKAY, and I know it’s annoying, here is, after some further babbling, the photo array:

YOU DON’T get the full ADAM WIPOUT storytelling advantage here. I did. It was great. Next time Adam is backpaddling you, ask him about shooting the boar, or who this guy is, or pretty much anything. IT does look like this board was pretty far along before this Big Island breakage. I don’t believe this surfer was identified by name.

That’s Mikel “SQUINTZ” Cumiskey in the second shot. He seems to move, frequently, from Florida to Port Townsend to the Big Island. Mike and Adam met up, hit some of the spots. YES, Adam dropped names (Pine Trees, Banyons, secret spots with names I already forgot), had to include that the locals welcomed him graciously, AND that, by luck, he discovered a spot by the hotel they were staying at.

NOW, I have done some work for the Hama Hama Oyster Company, so I should include that the one photo is of Nate, the hatchery manager for JAMESTOWN SEAFOOD. The hatchery is owned by the Jamestown/s’klallam tribe. Nate is holding a few thousand 2-3 mm Kumamoto Oyster seed. They are sent from the hatchery to East Sequim Bay to grow to 12mm, at which point they are shipped to farms such as the Hama Hama tideflats on the Hood Canal. Nate is based out of Kona and, with his wife, Melissa, took Adam and Emmett out on their boat.

THERE WERE other photos, more waves, but I should also mention the boar was shot, by Adam. The way Adam told me, “So, Brian tells me, ‘the boar’s gonna charge you, but he’ll stop short. When he does, you have to shoot him right between the eyes. One shot. These guys eat twenty-two bullets like candy.’ It did… stop. I shot. Boom.”

BRIAN works for HAWAIIAN SHELLFISH on the Hilo side. Hama Hama also buys seed from them.

If I got any of this wrong, sorry.

MEANWHILE, look for waves when you can, and, if you find them, surf them. I am totally planning on restoring my HOBIE, which I did purchase from Adam Wipeout, like six or seven years ago, and, no Adam, I did pay it off.

Here’s something I got as a comment from someone who identified as FRANK LEE DARLING: “Those Cristians (sic) who can’t seem to not follow the sunburned turd should realize there not part of the flock, they’re part of the mob. Hope you get what I’m saying, Dude.” Not political, Frank, not sure if you’re talking about ALEX KNOST. No need to write back to explain.

IF YOU’RE CRUISING up or down SURF ROUTE 101, you might as well check out HAMA HAMA OYSTERS. If you have access to the internet, might as well check realsurfers.net on Sundays and Wednesdays. Not, like, dawn patrol.

FLASH! Surfing is no longer COOL

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, real surfers, surf addiction, surf culture, surf satire, surfing, surfing blogs, surfing satire, writings of Erwin Dence

I learned a few things watching a YouTube with local librarian/ripper Keith Darrock’s favorite surf magazine writer (spiffy columns with an accompanying photo of him… smoking- so rebellious) turned (with the demise of most print mags) into an (I’m not saying posing) outsider (allegedly)/critic of many-if-not-all things corporate, or cultural, or just plain obviously wacked-if-not-permanently ruined in the once pure (purer, perhaps), whole wide world of surfboarding, consistently those evil-ish ghouls and thugs who profit from it:

The massive (and easy) target of the World Surf League, and… oh, my god (not meaning, like, God God) Kelly Slater, Greatest surf Of All Time, and almost certainly the biggest beneficiary of the wave-washed money that has come from Kelly’s stellar career (K.S. wave pool in where? Dubai- wannabe sports capital).   

Chas, in the continuance of his career, appears in his videos with a bottle of spirits, glasses donned and un-donned, and, though I haven’t watched enough of them to see if he lights up, I do admit he looks pretty cool in a Don Johnson/Miami Vice/throwback way (and, if I hadn’t stated this so far- I am in no way criticizing Mr. Smith), starting his commentary with, “I hate surfing, I don’t hate you.”

Hopefully I got that right.

SO, having former TransSurf (Surfing before that, I believe) magazine editor and current WSL commentator, Chris Cote, on his Vlog, cups and saucers rather than a bottle on the table in the foreground, with the clickbait come-on headline of (I looked this up in my History), “Chris Cote on the killing of the surf industry and the joys of toxic positivity, I meant just to watch just a bit, but stayed for all 23 or so minutes of the thing.

SO, here’s what I learned: The average age of the approximately 33 million surf or surf-adjacent people in the world is, like, forty-six (or so, I didn’t rewatch), AND, the BIGGIE, surfing is NO LONGER considered COOL among the not-yet-sponsored younger set.

WHY?

CHECKING out the comments section as Chas and Chris chatted, I read about clueless and etiquette-deficient crowds at any decent break, the swelling of kooks and hodads furthered by wave pools and surf lessons and surf camps; and words on the tragic replacement of blue (or no) collar surf rebels with time-and-money rich techies and mid-level managers driving tricked-out Sprinter vans and custom racked Teslas. Yeah, that seems… correct.

Folks just want to be part of something with a perceived (or conceived- by ad agencies, mostly) coolness they are not contributing to.

I have some theories, most centered on this: IF YOU ARE NEVER going to get as many waves as your father claims to have ridden, you might never surf better than he (or your mom) does; and anyway, few of us have fathers we would be embarrassed to hang out on the beach with; if this is the truth of surfing (and that it is actually kind of… difficult; all the paddling and stuff); WHY BOTHER?

“No, you love it. You love it! Now, just get out there, you little Ripper!” Photo from, yeah, RIP CURL.

THIS ISN’T TRUE in my case; my father, a champion swimmer, was a great body surfer, even if his wearing of the traditional Speedo (I didn’t follow suit after the sixth grade) was a bit… awkward. My mother’s driving her seven children to the beach, mostly because she loved the beach, and her support of my surfing (“Tell your friends surfing, to you, is a sport; it isn’t a lifestyle” was her point when I couldn’t go with them because of religious reasons). If it was a sport, I wanted it to be a lifestyle. Still do. It still isn’t, but it is a part of my life.

AND, in furtherance of my hypothesis, my three children do not surf; the children of many of my surf friends do not surf. Granted, I live in an area late to the game, with fickle surf and cold water, and adverse winds, difficult access, lots of troublesome rocks (though not quite far away enough from large metropolitan areas- some would say); and purchasing gear for rapidly growing kids might be financially daunting. STILL, the average age of the surfers I run into is probably in keeping with Chas Smith’s assessment. YES, I do up the demographic. AND, I do see some second generation surfers. Not, statistically, that many, but some.

OKAY, this has about the word count that seemed appropriate back when I had a column (not self-promoting, as such, it’s long gone) in the Port Townsend Leader. SO, hmmm… considering doing a live thing. NO, I’m just not cool enough. PODCAST? Double hmmm.

MEANWHILE, looking for content beyond anything Nathan Florence puts out, always checking out Keith Olbermann’s short hype-ups for his podcast, though never hitting on the full length version (and never subscribing or ‘liking’ any videos), occasionally fooled into watching some wannabe Nate Florence kooking it up in some shorebreak, next time I’m clickbaited by Chas Smith, I will probably… CLICK.

I was planning of showing my latest illustrations, but I forgot to bring my dedicated thumb drive to the printer, and, when I tried to get copies, the super fancy, super expensive machine didn’t cooperate. This kind of thing can irritate the shit out of the owner/operator. YES, I did make the stupid comment that, “Yeah, that’s why I almost always brush and roll paint jobs.” “Uh huh. Three-sixty-one.” “Okay. Let me dig out some change.”

NEXT TIME…

The Usual Surf Season Tragedy

Posted on by under surfing blogs, surfing the strait of juan de fuca, writings of Erwin Dence

“So, where is the HEAT… ERWIN?”

It’s our cat, ANGELINA, quite disappointed if not super pissed-off, resting on MY pillow (darker blue in real life), in the living room, because it’s the room with (some) heat, that provided by space heaters powered by a very noisy generator.

Not to argue whether or not there is a surf season on the Strait, but… Oh, first, I’m posting this a day later than the days I am trying to get folks used to, Sundays and Wednesdays, due to the power panel in my, hm, hmm, cottage, pieced together and added onto since the 1930s, kind of, um, having an issue.

AN ISSUE is my explanation for reduced power and… I AM working on it.

Not this skinny, of course, but rideable waves and no surfboard… frustrating.

Again, not discussing (potential, possible, hypothetical, possibly imagined) waves I can’t get to for a reason other than the usual, ‘got to work,’ thing. A few years ago it was the water leak between the pump house and the, you know, house I couldn’t find, even cutting holes in the floor to track it down, not finding it leading to the pump fifty feet down going out. Yes, I missed some waves I would have, according to reports that included, “You would have loved it, Dude,” and “Where were you?”

The thing is, these kind of issues, quite a ways outside of my knowledge zone, my limited areas of expertise; OR the use of professionals to solve the issue being way outside of my budget; just make me so… tired. Disappointed, pissed-off, frozen in body and mind. Rather like Angelina.

BUT, I am making some moves. It’s only been about thirty hours with no coffee and inadequate heat. I felt pretty good that I replaced the burnt-out main shutoff switch (not fun). I’ve done testing, possibly closing in on the areas of extended damage. Always tough. Electrical logic is way more involved than painting logic (paint is a liquid, gravity is involved). I have some ideas. YES, I am aware almost any problem is solvable if one throws enough money at it.

YES. This drama, something short of a tragedy, will be a story. Eventually. Not yet.

MEANWHILE, I did discover I can’t run a space heater AND a coffee maker at the same time.

NOW, I DO have some new artwork, several possible t-shirt designs, more from “Swamis” I wanted to post, AND I WILL, once I’m back to full power. So, soon. I’ve got to work.

If you do happen to get a few waves; it’s fine; I’m sure they’re the kind (rideable, possibly makable) I would love, Dude; it’s fine if you let me know. Good luck. May all your breakdowns, breakups, accidents, tragedies, meltdowns, panic attacks, mind freezes, etc., happen when the waves aren’t going off

I will be posting something new on SUNDAY.

Fixating on “Swamis”

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, real surfers, surfing art, surfing blogs, surfing Swamis, Uncategorized, writings of Erwin Dence

While simplifying my manuscript for “Swamis” has actually become more complicated, I have also spent some time complicating illustrations; adding more color than necessary, going full psychedelic. Maybe that’s all right and even acceptable; the story does take place in Southern California, 1969.

You’re most likely too young to have any memories, or, if you were there, it may be more flashback than memory. A former cliché that may, through disuse, may have reached the statute of limitations on repeating is this: “If you can remember anything about the 60s, you really weren’t there.”

Okay, I googled it. The quote has been attributed to: Paul Kantner, Robin Williams, Paul Krassner, Pete Townshend, Grace Slick, Timothy Leary, and others. If you know who all of those people are… whoa! Look at you!

So, here are my latest workings:

overdone positive, line bending negative.

ANYWAY, I’m still getting my stuff together for the ZOOM event with the Port Townsend Library, Thursday, August 20, 7pm. There’s supposed to be a slide show of some of my stuff so people who tune in don’t have to look at me. Here’s a link: https://ptpubliclibrary.org/library/page/art-and-writing-erwin-dence OKAY, so how do I make that all blue so you don’t have to type it all out.

Oh, some of these and others are available at Tyler Meeks’ DISCO BAY OUTDOOR EXCHANGE. Stop in when you’re cruising out to the Peninsula, Thur-Sunday, 10am to 6pm.