Tag Archives: life

How’s Your Week Going? Words, photos, stories

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, adam wipeout, northwest surfing, northwest surfing blog,, old surfers, real surfers, surf fiction, surfing blogs, surfing the strait of juan de fuca, Uncategorized, writings of Erwin Dence

Here is another example of why I should be ready to take photos with my camera: I was in my last surviving vehicle at a parking lot that faces the Strait. There were no waves, but there was cell phone coverage. I may have been feeling particularly down, not to panic-depression levels; but, having lived a large chunk of my life on the edge (my choice to be a self-employed painter in the Northwest), and sharing with some unknown but large portion of the citizenry the pain of war and suddenly crazy gas prices, and, perhaps some lack of real confidence in our leaders…

Anyway, I see this old person (I’m guessing a man) being led by a younger, taller, person down the easiest incline from the parking lot to the narrow stretch of beach. My thought is he wanted to see the ocean, that perhaps he hadn’t seen it in a while, perhaps, even, he had some fear he might not have another opportunity. I don’t know; I make up stories.

He shuffles out. There’s a slight but cold west wind. There are rocks and driftwood and kelp to navigate. He did not last long. I imagined him saying to his companion, coming back up the berm, “Yeah; just like I remembered it.”

Close as I could get, image-wise. Borrowed from ruveyda

A screen tracks trading on the floor at the New York Stock Exchange (NYSE) after the closing bell in New York City, U.S., April 4, 2025. REUTERS/Brendan McDermid

I should apologize for not putting this on NON-POLITICAL ERWIN. No. On a more personal note:

There is, of course a story. SO, top to bottom: After several issues with the VOLVO, alternately known as the “Super Fun Car,” I managed to get it to 200,000 miles (note the crustiness of the steering column and the harmonicas). NEXT, Dru’s house in Port Gamble is a stopping off point for Canadian Geese (note the shadows of the Volvo, with surfboard, and me). NEXT, Full moon, or fullish, last Monday night (note Dru’s new car, replacement for Honda attacked by mutant deer). NEXT, Dru’s cat, Nicholas, and the very rich cake Dru made for her lifetime friend, Mollie Orbea (who lives down the street).

BEFORE I get to the bottom shot, my work van being towed (for the many-ith time) from the parking area at Highway 104 and Center Road, I will enlighten you on the latest wound to the Volvo. YES, as in every movie that shows the moon, it was full. And it was Mollie’s birthday. And, because TRISH is recovering from Chemotherapy very very slowly, I was sent to represent. Also, I did not have my hearing aids with me. Awkward in any social situation, forcing kids and grownups to yell and/or repeat is… rude. At least. BUT, while leaving, I mentioned to Mollie’s husband, Pete, the person who pretty much runs the activities in Port Gamble, AND the person who conducts the ghost tours, that the Volvo reached this milestone. And then, looking for some wood to knock on, I selected a wheel from a ship that was mounted on the wall.

“You should know,” Pete said, “that wheel came from a Japanese vessel sunk in World War II. Now, the ghosts might follow you home.” Maybe they did. It’s about 20 miles, and when I turned into my driveway, the car stalled. And wouldn’t start. Blown head gasket. AVID readers of realsurfers.net might recall that Adam James helped me with using some Blue Devil when the Volvo overheated about twenty or thirty thousand miles ago. Now, according to my mechanical guru, George Takamoto, I will have to replace the headgasket. Not happening immediately, but I do plan on getting it done. AND I thought I was very lucky that the car stopped in my driveway.

Not the same luck two nights later when the gauges stopped working on van.

LIFE is, of course, a combination of good luck, bad luck, and shit we cannot control. I try very hard not to just freak the fuck out. I do have almost enough faith to believe, with the setbacks and traumas and dramas, the cruel, profane wars of choice, the inhumane treatment of those we share this fragile existence with, that there is a reckoning coming, that my complaints are not really significant.

I guess I’m lucky, because I never get the blues; Oh yes, I’m quite lucky, because I never get the blues; Now I might get suspicious, and sometimes I’m anxious, too; I might even get desperate and tear up a thing or two, but I count myself lucky because I Never get the blues.

Please don’t tell me your problems and think that I can relate; I don’t harbor jealousy and I won’t subsidize hate; If you want to complain, you can just go to Helen Waite; Don’t be telling me gossip and acting as if it’s news, ‘Cause I can’t share your problem and I want no part of your blues.

Dream of tomorrow, we sacrifice all our todays; We’re so busy working, we don’t take the time to just play; Though I’m selling my blood just to pay up my union dues; I still count myself lucky because I never get the blues.

My old truck’s still running, My dog didn’t die, Not in love with a woman who told me ‘goodbye,’ And my mama still talks of her baby with pride, And I can’t remember the last time I cried.

But then… I’m lucky, because I never get the blues; Oh yes, I’m quite lucky, because I never get the blues; Yes, sometimes I get angry, and sometimes I’m hurtin’, too; I might even get lonely, but not like most people do; Then again, I’m just lucky; Yes, I count myself lucky; Hell yes, I’m quite lucky because I… never get… the… blues.

Contact- erwin@realsurfersdotnet

All rights reserved for “I Guess I’m Lucky,” Erwin A. Dence, Jr.

THANKS, as always, for checking out my site. Good luck, get some waves.

OBVIOUSLY NOTHING TO GET ALL HET UP OVER, BUT… WAR, HMMM, Who is this GOOD for?

Posted on by under Uncategorized

UPDATE- Monday, March 2- I have a new fiction piece on PAGE III dealing with pedophiles and murder; kind of light reading AND I have an update on THE TRUMP-EPSTEIN-NETANYAHU WAR; maybe I was harsh in my judging. Check that out on PAGE II.

It’s not all that surprising to wake up and discover, not that it was a headline, that we and Israel are bombing Iran. No, even after our president was, and this is his signature, possibly overstated, skill, in the very midst of negotiating a replacement for the peace deal he tore up out of, hard to say, envy. Oh, and Iran is firing back. YEAH, this kind of non-political talk doesn’t belong on this page. I HAVE a page for this; I haven’t written anything specifically referencing how the FIFA peace prize recipient justifies this action… regime change, nuclear stuff; but I will. Don’t let a little war and destruction disturb your brunch, or whatever plans you have for today. As self centered as I am, I’m going to go fill up my van’s gas tank. Check the NON-POLITICAL ERWIN page later for non-hysterical updates.

HERE is a photo I have spent an amazing amount of time trying to send to one of my clients. It was sent to me by surfer/snowboarder/real estate sales star JOEL CARBEN. It is his office/man cave at his home and features a sort of psychedelic moose head (I’m thinking not actually formerly live animal- could be wrong), a brilliantly painted (by me) cedar surfboard (different story, somewhere in the archives), and one of four screens (formerly bi-fold doors) that I painted a couple of years ago. Both sides, so eight images.

The screens and an assortment of other original Erwin Dence drawings and paintings have been on exhibit at the COLAB in downtown PORT TOWNSEND, a collaborative work space owned and operated by Joel and his super smart wife, RACHEL.

JOEL sent a message to a phone I no longer have, having given up the two phones I mostly used to find the unlost phone. Yes, scary; but my super secret stealth surf phone’s numbers were mostly on my work phone anyway, and anyway… blah, blah, blump; I never got the message that Joel was interested in maybe, down the line, after ski season, after he makes his next killer commission, purchasing the screen.

THE PROBLEM with anything in the art world, and anything, really, is setting a price. Joel made an offer. I considered it. I’m not a negotiator, and the proof is that, after years and years of painting for a living, I am still painting. Exercise? Sure. Use of my time that might otherwise be spent and/or wasted in contemplation or surfing or writing or just not fucking worrying about money? Not really.

HOWEVER, and possibly because I’ve never made any real money in my pursuit of ART, with the added argument that I never painted them to keep at my house, I decided to allow Joel to have the screen on a sort of longterm loan basis. I have done this sort of dealing with surfboards, including a longterm loan from ARCHIE ENDO to me, which I have since longtermed to ADAM ‘WIPEOUT’ JAMES.

Joel and surfer/artist STEPHEN R. DAVIS at the COLAB in Port Townsend.

IF YOU want to make an offer on any original Erwin pieces, OR if you want to complain, tell stories, write erwin@realsurfersdotnet I will definitely read your stuff, quite possibly add it to my blog, good or bad. OH, AND THANKS FOR CHECKING OUT MY SITE.

ONE MORE NOTE on the war: I have been working on a short story involving a pedophile and some revenge/justice. AND I am continuing to try to finish my novel, “SWAMIS.”

The Fine Art of Self Aware Sublimation/Repression

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, mind surfing, northwest surfing blog,, old surfers, real surfers, surf addiction, surf culture, surf fiction, surf novels, surf sessions, surfing blogs, surfing in Washington State, writings of Erwin Dence

My cat, TONY, destroying a corner of my drawing table, and NAM SIU and I (no, not my sprinter van, but, yes, a sprinter van) taken recently. Nam has been recovering from a horrific illness in which he lost a significant percentage of his body fat. When I saw him a while back, I, of course, asked him (in my usual friendly way) if he HAD TO gain it all back and more at one time. I sort forced him to get a photo taken with before he loses the weight, which I have no doubt he will. I have no illness-related explanation of or excuse for my weight-to-head size, BUT, hey, I have to say… yeah, I look pretty good.

Nam’s once and current diet.

UNNECESSARILY DEEP PSYCHOLOGICAL STUFF

Wait! No! The Superbowl was, like, two weeks ago, the next season is… a ways away. The swells from the atmospheric rivers are pumping waves somewhere, but not into the oddly tilted Strait of Juan de Fuca, and the forecast is kind of bleak. What now?

I choose this design by JUNAARTFOUND because the tagline said something about ‘Sublimation.’ This is a word I can never think of when I’m thinking of how we substitute (re-channel is probably more accurate) our own desires (some of which are of a… pardon me… sexual nature) into something else. Like, maybe, sports. There are other outlets for the tensions that, some evidence shows, humans seem to be cursed, or blessed with. Prayer and denial are popular. Repression. Sure. Violence, real or imagined, is, obviously, one way to control or burn our lust, bloodlust or whatever-lust. Video games and John Wick movies; there are choices other than signing up to join ICE

Psychology 101 taught me, if little else, that all lusts seek to eliminate themselves. Hunger-eat, for example. The philosophical followup is that being full, satiated, only lasts so long. There is something that tastes better than a perfect strawberry dipped in dark chocolate. Maybe. There is a wave riding experience beyond the most perfect ride we can remember.

So we continue the search.

AS I WRITE THIS, I’m feeling a bit apologetic for getting too deeply into all this. Too late. We all have tensions and stressors. We all need outlets. I have been accused, at least once, of being repressed. A bit surprising to me since my emotions seem easily read, and I’m also accused of being filterless, of saying what I’m thinking before I think about what I’m saying. YEAH, okay, I’ll say I am. There’s more I don’t say. I have fears that go beyond my family and my friends. Fear leads directly and quickly to anger. I have anger issues stemming from tragedies and horrors I cannot stop, or even lessen. I have also been described as having an inadequate amount of empathy. I have enough to feel for those who do.

I DEVOTE A LOT of my energy to not panicking to not freaking the fuck out.

Writing is one of my de-stressors, a place where I can push my fear of speaking out, the boundaries of my repression, peacefully, knowing that even if I write what I consider the perfect turn of phrase, the perfect rebuttal to those who push the hateful lies and seek protection (or actively protect) from accountability for the most heinous acts, it won’t be enough. I won’t be satisfied for long.

TO BRING THIS BACK to surfing; one of the oft-spoken values is that one can forget everything else and move in the cosmic wonderfulness. FACT CHECK- Yes, this happens. If the goal is to move through the changing crowds and conditions without panicking or freaking the fuck out, and surf until you’re exhausted enough that you don’t care who gets that wave you might have surfed better, congratulations. If you got a ride to put into your near-perfect file… that’s probably as good as it gets.

CONTACT- erwin@realsurfers.net

INSTAGRAM (mostly original songs with harmonica)- realsurfersdotnet

THE video, “ERWIN” is now on my ABOUT page. If you haven’t seen it… check it out.

‘SWAMIS’ UPDATE- I’m up to, like, page 200, of 226, on what I hope to be my final edit before someone has the good sense to publish the novel.

PAGE II- NON-POLITICAL ERWIN. There is an update concerning why anyone would feel compelled to give a shit about kid rock.

THANKS for checking out my blog. See out on SURF ROUTE 101.

Triple Win… Perhaps, and (Some) Credit to San Francisco 49ers and LA Rams

Posted on by under Erwin Dence surf illustrations, northwest surfing blog,, old surfers, real surfers, surf illustrations, surf novels, surfing illustrations, writings of Erwin Dence

After a session at a spot on the Olympic Peninsula coast, RICO MOORE, watching (or taking over) someone else’s fire, took the photo of KEITH DARROCK coming in. I ‘borrowed’ and posted it. THEN I did a black and white drawing. (obviously not, like, traced), made a copy of it, colored it in. Not satisfied, I made a copy of that so I could add more ink. Then… fattened up the borders. SO, multiple credit. YES, I will offer Rico a copy. And then… I might go back, turn it into more of a poster look.

Nothing is ever really finished.

The SUPERBOWL is (maybe you heard) coming up, and our (funny how and when we claim ownership of teams we in no way own) SEATTLE SEAHAWKS are up against the NEW ENGLAND PATRIOTS (not arguing how folks with opposing views all consider themselves the ‘real’ patriots- maybe that’s as American a thing as there is) in the sixtieth rendition of this game/event/show.

As much as we (fans, casual to occasional to rabid) HATE hate hate the other three teams in the NFC WEST (maybe a little less this year for the Arizona Cardinals), it seems pretty apparent, with three teams from our Conference in the playoffs, that LA and San Francisco are… good.

It seems, also, obvious, that playing at least twice a season against great (yeah, I bumped them up- because we’re here- wouldn’t have, otherwise) teams only makes the Seahawks BETTER.

NOT that it’s going to be a blowout on Sunday; we’re all way too superstitious (backed up by, you know, history) to get too too cocky, but (yes, I’m knocking on wood AND crossing myself), if, say, the game, as some Superbowls have been, is pretty much over by halftime (I almost never watch the halftime shows- probably will this year in support of American performer), I will watch it until…

THE END.

WSL- I am waiting for more PIPELINE. I am sorry Mason Ho isn’t still in it.

INSTAGRAM- I posted another original video, me playing Harmonica and singing the first verse of an original song. Check it under Erwin A. Dence, Jr. or realsurfersdotnet Here are the lyrics, mine, copyrighted, all rights reserved (legal required):

I see she has an ukulele, ukulele, ukulele; I’m betting that she plays it daily, Ukulele, hukalau.

Every surfer needs an ukulele, ukulele, ukulele; I bought myself an ukulele, maybe she could teach me how.

I have many, many original songs. I am going to try to put one out there on MONDAYS.

CONTACT- erwin@realsurfers.net

Waves… they’re out there.

Glassy Conditions on Surf Route 101, Medical Updates, Instagram Stuff- New Harmonica Erwin Video Available

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

OUT ON SURF ROUTE 101, the waves might not be much bigger on the STRAIT than the ultra glassy Lake Leland. I had to get a photo of the only one at the lake; talked him into putting his leg up on the rock the way it was when I (almost) drove past.

Our family friend George Takamoto has been enduring the horrors of three-times-a-week dialysis, not to mention the kidney failure and the times where infections and other side stuff from his treatment risked his life. He called my on Monday with the news that he got the kidney transplant. George’s sister, Valerie, came up to help out. George has already been released and is staying on the Seattle side for a while to help with her many trips to the University of Washington hospital.

In other medical news, Trish has been (slowly) improving, recovering from the post surgery chemo. She still has to go through radiation, so… as always, fuck cancer!

This photo from somewhere on the coast was taken by RICO MOORE. I planned to do a drawing of this, but, so far, haven’t. I didn’t want to use this amazing shot today, but… yeah, I am, BUT, to make up for using it, I will probably have to give the illustration to him. But, yeah, I’ll have copies.

INSTAGRAM NEWS- I’m on it; still haven’t figured it out. I will. I plan on making more HARMONICA ERWIN videos. Check me at realsurfersdotnet OR, I don’t know, search for Erwin Dence. Meanwhile, I’ve been following a lot of surfers, comedians, singers, artists… so much politics that, with my personalized algorithms, I feel like I might be in a left wing echo chamber. I do know what the right wingers are saying, so… staying there. I do wish more of my local Olympic Peninsula friends would post more frequently.

“SWAMIS” the novel news- I’m about two-thirds of the way through the, hopefully, final draft. I’ve been putting chapters on this site, but, this close, fighting to get something publishable for this wrong, editing out stuff that didn’t move the story along (painful), and loving every moment I’ve spent thinking about it, working on it, I’m considering not posting too much of it. NOT that anyone could actually steal the story- way too complex, and hopefully, way too real.

SURF FORECAST- It seems like the storms have been missing the Strait. Hopefully the waves have been showing up wherever you’re surfing. Find them; surf them. Good luck!

Check Me Out on the Gram; Me, Some Surfing, Some Seahawks, Some Music Stuff, and Everything Marshawn Lynch… Oh, and… NEW- Page II, NON-POLITICAL ERWIN

Posted on by under northwest surfing blog,, old surfers, real surfers, writings of Erwin Dence

I believe I got this from the NFL. Marshawn Lynch got fined, famous, and somehow, beloved.

After an extended period of not being on Facebook, Linked In, and Instagram, because I want to further my non-house-painting ambitions, and acting on some advice from… NO, it was partly because Olympic Peninsula ripper KEITH sent me a video of soul surfer CLINT THOMPSON (clintthompson1065 instagram handle) playing a guitar and singing a song he wrote and… AND Keith, Port Townsend Librarian, and I have been discussing and sort of planning the NEXT OCCASIONAL SURF CULTURE ON THE STRAIT OF JUAN DE FUCA EVENT, placing an emphasis on SURF MUSIC… AND I (admittedly and sadly not a great singer) do some song writing… AND I wanted to watch the video, but couldn’t… AND because Keith has spent some of his TIME SUCK hours on Instagram… AND… so… now…

I’M BACK on Instagram. Yes, I needed DRU to find my password and all that, BUT, once on there, I possibly posted a sketch, possibly wrote a comment urging anyone to check out my blog. I say ‘possibly’ because I haven’t figured out how to find my site. OKAY, for you, it’s either under REALSURFERSDOTNET (probably lower case), OR you can look for Erwin A. Dence, Jr.

My next step was to get the App on my phone. Got it without help. Then… THEN I started ‘FOLLOWING.’ Maybe it’s like Facebook, when I, very briefly, tried that out, before the thought of begging anyone to ‘like’ me (the theory being if I like you, maybe you might like me back) slowed me down to… a… stop. It’s out there, along with my abandoned LinkedIn account and my lapsed membership in several organizations. But, maybe, later, I’ll be more of a joiner.

THE NFL CONFERENCE GAME IS TODAY, so all these SEAHAWKS SITES (players with highlights, critics with critiques, soothsayers with sooth, and I just kept hitting “FOLLOW” like I was another football adjacent and rabid believer/fan, ready for any content, real or (even) AI, that projected OUR TEAM as WINNERS.

The ALGORITHMS are clear; I need MORE MARSHAWN!

THIS is me writing on Saturday night. There are many anxious hours before Marshawn raises the 12th man flag tomorrow.

We don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow on the SEAHAWKS side of things. I did look for Clint Thompson on Instagram; didn’t find him. I WILL and I’ll let you know. YES, I did ‘follow’ some more folks, did watch some more vids. Sorry.

ACTUAL SURF STUFF- The coast frequently has waves. True. I did get in a couple of sessions since my rejection a while back. Not all time; one was almost fifty/fifty between awkward-but-reasonably okay rides and blown waves, with at least one makes-it-worth-it ride, the second was maybe 60/40, good to crappy, with more of those swoopy, slippery rides I love. Next time…

NEW, NEWER, NEWEST- PAGE II – NON-POLITICAL ERWIN-

You may not check our realsurfers.net to read about politics. That’s fair. Perhaps your world is so focused on getting barreled that you don’t want to devote the head space to considering just how fucking dangerous our country is right now. Sure, tens of thousands (unbelievably) are being killed in Iran for protesting and, you know, like only a few hereabouts, so…

So I decided to add a page for NON-POLITICAL ERWIN. Check to top line. If you click on Page II, yeah, political shit. As with everything to do with my site, your choice. It’s (still) America. Freedom!

A sign for 37-year-old Alex Pretti, who was fatally shot by a U.S. Border Patrol officer earlier in the day, is displayed during a vigil Saturday, Jan. 24, 2026, in Minneapolis. (AP Photo/Adam Gray)

A final motivation in my pushing the boundary of my computer skills is the murder, yesterday (this is me editing on Sunday) of ALEX PRETTI. TRISH got an email from her cousin, STEVE, in Minnesota. Steve is retired Air Force, and recently went through a horrific fight with cancer of the tongue. Horrible. Mr. Pretti was an ICU nurse on his case. So, a real person doing a job that, forgive me if I’m wrong, a hateful person cannot do. Dead. Pepper sprayed, beaten, shot ten times.

Again, forgive me if I’m concerned enough to write something about this. SO, PAGE II.

NOTE- I do edit the shit out of my blog, but I haven’t figured out how to edit the page II, so there’s not much on there this time. As with all things real: NEXT TIME.

To quote the Stephen Stills/ Buffalo Springfield lyrics, “Something’s happening here, what it is ain’t exactly clear, there’s a man with a gun over there, telling me I’ve got to beware.” What I might say, if I were to be in any way political (or bolder than I am) of the intimidation tactics so popular with ICE is that “It works either way.” If agents of the government, pocketing their shockingly high signup bonus, jacked up on fake machismo, brandishing automatic weapons against civilians, hiding their faces because soldiers for a just and righteous cause should be anonymous, promised immunity by unelected, power and hatred-maddened advisors, unchecked by those elected to contain egregious overreach, unrestrained by the laws, the Constitution, and any sense of a shared humanity, kill Americans with impunity, it chills the rest of us. If one or more of these murderers is brought to justice… same result; bad apple in a supposedly just role. Beware.

There are heroes out there. There is truth. Out there.

I am available; erwin@realsurfers.net. Don’t be afraid to write.

If Ben Gravy Surfed Epstein’s Island…

Posted on by under northwest surfing blog,, old surfers, real surfers, surf culture, surf satire, writings of Erwin Dence

…I want to see the video! I mean, man, do I! Maybe he found the list while scouting out whatever breaks are available. THAT would be some clickable content.

Okay, so here’s my thinking on this: I’ve been fooled into checking out a few videos on YouTube because non Andy Irons AI algor-rhythms (or is it Al Gore rhythms) believe, because I watch, like, every Nate Florence or Mason Ho post, and most Koa Rothman and Jamie O’Brian offerings, I must want some of these other pretenders to the “Yes, I make a living surfing and providing content” hierarchy, sub-title “And I still, and myyy management team will confirm this, don’t consider myself a sell out. Oh, and buy some of this super body wash. I use it myself.”

In researching New Jersey surfer Mr. Gravy (not his real name), I discovered his cover story is that he started the video thing when he quit drinking, as a way to stay sober. Good work. I mean, not like giving it up to run the Department of War and Manliness, but… something. SHIT! Never really a devoted drinker, I quit the cult in 1990. Mostly I keep not drinking to stay sober. Seems to work.

When watching surf videos, I do fast forward the more obvious ads (out of respect, more like not losing more respect for the surfer). One obvious effect big time sponsorship has had is cutting down the swearing count from surfers who previously, and, I’m assuming, in real life, dropped f-bombs more often than they dropped in on, yes, bombs. And surfers who might, might be unapproachable assholes must, must project a friendly, nice guy image. And, realness wise, I am aware that I am, possibly, competitive if not ruthless in the water, frequently grumpy, and always sarcastic on land, and, you are correct; my little blog ain’t shit in the scheme of things. Fuck!

Now, if I had someone sponsor me to paddle around Little Saint James Island, located in the American VIRGIN Islands, in the Caribbean, looking for surf, I’d do it. Great content. Possible surf. I would have to recheck the maps, make sure it’s not too close to Venezuela.

Warning! Almost political stuff. Don’t read further and/or delete from your history after reading.

Anyway, I’m not aiming to hop onto the Vlog gravy train. I do want to keep the Epstein thing alive. With the “Kill them all,” and the health care/food affordability crises, and with the “I’ll take it in gold” Trump Cavalcade of Incompetence and Corruption on a constant march toward… maybe you know where; a little thing like old rich people molesting children gets lost.

Or I’ll delete it.

Oh, and fuck cancer!

That “**&%$#@!! It All, I’m Gonna Go Surfin'” Moment

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, Erwin Dence illustrations, northwest surfing blog,, old surfers, Original Erwin, real surfers, surf culture events, surf fiction, surf illustrations, surf novels, surfing, surfing art, surfing illustrations, writings of Erwin Dence

I was actually planning on leaving it at that. All clickbait, no content.

Not that I’m going surfing. Not today. Maybe you’re out there, hoping for the right window to open up: Tide and size and direction, cooperative wind, amiable crowd (or no crowd). It might work. It might be working now; more likely after you give up on one spot and cruise, along with others, to another spot, always hoping, anticipating,

Yep.

Just in case music is part of your surf life, some tune in your head as you search or surf, I want to mention that I’ve been discussing having SURF MUSIC as the dominant theme for the NEXT (It’s, like, the 6th or 7th, one virtual) OCCASIONAL SURF CULTURE ON THE STRAIT OF JUAN DE FUCA (I’m ready to drop the ‘Salish Sea’ part) EVENT with Your PORT TOWNSEND PUBLIC LIBRARY dude (afraid to give him a title, but he may be the Head Librarian), and well known ripper, KEITH DARROCK.

It would probably be in JANUARY of 2026, and would include SURF-CENTRIC LOCAL ART, and SPECIAL GUESTS like… Working on it. I’ve already signed up PETE RAAB, non-surfer, but a man with an impressive knowledge and collection of SURF MUSIC, and I’ve approached Legend TIM NOLAN about performing with some of his friends.

Consider this an invitation to any OLYMPIC PENINSULA surf music performers, singer-songwriters or bands. We’re still at the ‘think about it phase,’ so… THINK ABOUT IT!

MEANWHILE, as your anticipation level spikes, here’s a surf song I wrote quite a while back:

I’ve got a whole lot of work, so I’ve just got a little time; got a whole lot of work, so I’ve just got a little time; now, they say everybody chooses their own mountain to climb.

I’m gonna climb that mountain, gonna start about four am; gonna climb that mountain, gonna start about four am; and I’ll stop about noon at a lake that I know for a swim.

When I get to the top, I’m gonna check out the other side; when I get to the top, I’m gonna check out the other side; and if I see the ocean, you know that I’ll be satisfied.

I JUST WANNA GO SURFIN’, now tell me, is that such a sin; I just wanna go surfin’, now, tell me, is that such a sin? When you know, damn well, it’s been a mighty long time since I’ve been.

I’m gonna take off late, freefall drop, cave off the bottom and fly off the top, locked in so tight the wave spits me out, hit the shoulder and turn one-eighty about, moving down the line like a water snake, saving my best moves for the inside break.

Hit the inside section, arching, hanging five, That’s when I’ll know that I’m still alive.

Yeah, I wanna go surfin’, and I’m gonna fine me some time; yeah, I wanna go surfin’, and I’m gonna find me some time; Now, if you get to go surfin’, and you need a good board… borrow mine.

NOTES: One- I previewed these lyrics to Pete Raab when I was working for him and on them. I need a rhyme for ‘inside break.’ Water snake? Yes. Works. Two- No one should borrow any board I own. I thrash my boards. Always have. That’s what they’re for. If your board is too, too precious to you; hang it on your wall. My motto, still, “I’m here to surf!”

I do continue to work on my novel, “Swamis.” I’m either going to have a second page on this site devoted to the book, or I will post chapters on Wednesdays. Thanks, as always, for checking out realsurfers.net

You can write me at erwin@realsurfers.net

All original works are copyright protected all rights reserved by Erwin A. Dence, Jr.

See you.

*One Thousandth Posting and Much More

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, northwest surfing blog,, old surfers, real surfers, surf contests, surf culture, surf fiction, surfing, surfing blogs, surfing in Washington State, surfing novels, surfing Swamis, writings of Erwin Dence

*I’ve been doing this blog for almost thirteen years, and because I’ve been checking on my stats a lot lately, and have actually been in contact with the platform realsurfers shakily is built on, I discovered this would be post number 1,000. NOW, the explanation for this is that not-quite-perfectionist that I am (mediocratist, high end, is more like it), I typically edit each post, like, multiple times. NEVERTHELESS, it’s some sort of milestone. OR a testament to stubbornness.

This image, possibly taken by Peninsula ripper, Chris Eardley, has already appeared on instagram. NO, Mikel Squintz, it is not anywhere, secret or not, on the Strait. Some sort of Hurricane, so, different body of water. STILL, offshore winds and possibly makeable waves does make one less worried about the rocks as well as envious.

Reggie Smart’s dog, Django, looking, well… smart. “Who’s a Smart dog?” Photo by… you know, Django’s owner. Not totally unchained. But smart. Reggie is opening a new Tattoo shop in Port Townsend. Look him up on the social if you need a little body decorating.

JOHN PECK died this week. I get the word on surfer deaths, typically, via texts from my contemporary, TOM BURNS. My story on Mr. Peck is this: Back in the late 60s, when signature model surfboards became a thing, my Fallbrook surf friends (and some kook semi-surfers) and I would share the latest “Surfer” bi-monthly. PHILLIP HARPER may have had a subscription. So, Phil, RAY HICKS, and BILL BUEL (who I still consider more of a surf-adjacent dude- Sorry) were over at Phil’s house perving out on the mag. Not like all at once. There was an ad for the MOREY-POPE designed PENETRATOR; all well and good, and an ad for several other signature boards. When Phil’s mom came into the dining room, Buel said, “Look, Mrs. Harper, there’s a board called the RAPER.” Because I was, possibly, more pedantic than I am now, and to reassure Phillip’s mom, I corrected Bill, effecting a French-ish accent. “I believe it’s pronounced, ‘Ra-pe’-air,’ like, like a sword.” And yes, I definitely went into a swashbuckling stance, which, oddly enough, is goofy-foot.

John Peck, a legendary surfer, doing a bit of kneeboarding. Photo by Nathan Oldfields. Find it, if nowhere else, at mollusksurfshopscom

SONNY OWENS also died recently. Here’s a bit on Sonny from Tom Burns: “My friend and former surf judge passed on at his home in CANNON BEACH. He was an early HUNTINGTON PIER standout in the late 60s, early 70s and migrated up here to the PNW, We surfed and judged contests over the years. Truly a good friend and a gentle soul who will be missed.”

I did meet Sonny on the Strait a year or so before my ill-fated foray into surf contest judging. Sonny and a woman I assumed to be his wife were at a barely-breaking, almost flooded-out spot, and despite being somewhat crippled, he went out. When I was at the contest in Westport, trying to fit in, I mentioned the sighting to one of the real judges. “Oh yeah? Sonny, Erwin here says he saw you surfing at ______ _____.” “Yeah, I did. Once,” To paraphrase Tom Burns, “If you’re lucky enough to surf long enough, you’re going to end up kneeboarding.” Agreed.

Let’s just say I’m posting this sideways to be less… shocking. Not true. Maybe, when I edit…

Me at Trisha’s most recent Chemo session. Photo by Trish. I’m really not supposed to make a deal out of my wife of almost 54 years undergoing treatment for breast cancer. I was not allowed to take her photo, in the chair, or later, when she was checking out and selecting a wig. Usually our daughter, DRU, herself a two time cancer survivor, takes Trish over for this kind of thing, as Trish did for her. Dru was off at a conference for organizations such as the OLYMPIC MUSIC FESTIVAL, with EMELIE BAKER (not sure what her married name is or how, exactly, to spell Emelie). So, I got the opportunity to share in the ordeal.

I try not to get too gushy about these things, but I am amazed at how strong Trish AND Dru have been, how positive. I do realize, we all have our struggles, injuries, afflictions, physical, mental, spiritual; many of which are crippling. We always hear “Fight cancer.” Yes. Yes. Allow me to repeat, “Fuck Cancer!”

I AM WORKING ON “SWAMIS,” and I promise to back off on the neurotic/obsessive re-writing. AND I’m continuing to write new songs and poems while collecting some of the old ones. Here’s one of each:

                                    EMPTY

 Empty stairwell, empty halls, Empty paintings on empty walls, Desperate conversations on the telephone, You say my heart is empty, but it’s heavy as a stone.

You know I don’t believe it, You know it can’t be true, How can my heart be empty when it’s filled with love for you.

Empty blankets, empty sheets, Empty sidewalks and empty streets, Looking out the window, I see I’m still all alone, You say my heart is empty, but it’s heavy as a stone.

You know I don’t believe it, You know it can’t be true, How can my heart be empty when it’s filled with love for you.

Empty like those scattered wishes, Empty like those shattered dishes, Empty like my old broken cup, If I’m so empty, Fill me up.

Empty ocean, empty skies, Empty faces with empty eyes, Thinking ‘bout those sins for which I just can’t atone, You say my heart is empty, but it’s heavy as a stone.

You know I don’t believe it, You know it can’t be true, How can my heart be empty when it’s filled with love for you.

Empty me, empty me, I’m as empty as I can be, I’m empty like my old broken cup, If I’m so empty, If I’m so empty, If I’m so empty… fill… me… up.

                  The Psychic and his Sidekick

The psychic and his sidekick, Sedrick,

Shared an Uber home from the wedding of a mutual friend.

Cindy was the bride, Archie was the groom,

The psychic said he knew the marriage was, “Quite doomed,”

Sedrick thought so, also, but he was willing to pretend,

Mostly, he said, at the Psychic’s funeral, “Not to offend my friend.”

“Shocking,” Cindy said, placing flowers on the headstone,

“Indeed,” Sedrick said, adding, “Are you here alone?”

I DO TRY TO GIVE PROPER CREDIT for photos and such. Please respect my rights to my original, copyrighted work.

OH, AND NOTE you can write me at erwin@realsurfers.net. AND, HOWEVER YOU’RE RIDING WAVES, KEEP GOING!

Thanks, World, for Checking Out Realsurfers.net

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, northwest surfing blog,, old surfers, real surfers, surf addiction, surf culture, surf fiction, surf novels, surfing, surfing blogs, writings of Erwin Dence

WORDPRESS KEEPS STATS on how many folks find my humble (not because I’m particularly humble- though often humbled) blog/site. Lately,affter twelve years of pushing and pumping out eclectic and not-always-surf-centric content, and for no reason I can discern, I’m getting more hits. Significantly more. From all over the world. I’m grateful, and, for no reason I can explain, kind of worried.

“So, Mr. Kotter; there was a locker check. Am I in trouble?” “Well, I don’t know, Epstein, maybe it was something you wrote in your notebook.” “Oh. No. Nothing to see there.” “Well, Juan, truth will out. Huh?” “Huh?”

ANYWAY; GRATEFUL. THANKS. And, I have finnally gone back to working on my novel, “SWAMIS.” I checked it out, and, surprise, it’s fucking good. Just a few… tweaks and… yeah. Swamis.

I’ve also been working on my competitive poetry. I do have an extensive portfolio, way more songs than upper crust, pretentincous (sp?) poems, Here’s one from way back:

                                    REDEMPTION CENTER

Though Little Joanie’s pregnant, she still dressed all in white, The Bridegroom told me they’d already had their wedding night, Joanie’s Grandma clutched a bag of rice, then threw it, just or spite, And the veil was left out on the Elks Lodge floor, Pardon me, but haven’t we seen this before?

Two Coat Charlie’s asking me for an advance in pay, Charlie ran into Fast Betty, Betty took his stash away, He was naked when he ran out, he was begging her to stay, When he left he must have closed the motel door, Now Betty’s checking at the Family Grocery Store.

I called Ken the Banker sleazy when he disapproved my loan, Kenny sent his cousin Leonard out to disconnect my phone, But I saw Ken at the Tavern, and he was not there alone, He was hanging onto Betty for dear life, I don’t feel so bad now, having done Ken’s Wife.

Reverend Bob was crying for forgiveness at the wake, Bob told us all that it was such a terrible mistake, Still, Bob swears he’d seen the Devil wielding OId Joe Conner’s rake, Now a white cross marks where Debra Conner fell, And I, for one, believe Bob, what the hell.

Seems it’s either sex or money, that is, when the truth gets told, Sometimes drugs are mentioned, though not from whom they’re bought or sold, Me, I told tales in the city, and my business just went cold, Man, the gossip blows like dust right through this town, Hey, you must be new, I ain’t seen you around.

No, the freeway don’t go through here, and the locals congregate, Checking our post office boxes, though the mail is often late, It seems like everyone’s related to at least someone you hate, As it is, we know the players very well, These ain’t half of all the stories I could tell.

Redemption Center, there’s Saints and Sinners, You’ll see us all on Sunday, heads bowed down, Redemption Center, Losers and Winners, But you have to laugh, it’s just like your home town.

NOTES- It’s not, like, viral; just kind of a minor cold. Still, I appreciate it. Thanks, and to all the s, real or otherwise, surf on!

And, of course, I reserve all rights to my original content. Other people’s… thanks for letting me borrow.