Tag Archives: surfer Dylan Scott

Superbowl Rehash/Recovery/Convalescence and…

Posted on by under northwest surfing blog,, old surfers, real surfers, surf culture, surf culture events, surfing blogs, surfing Southern California in the 60s, Uncategorized, writings of Erwin Dence

Me, with hearing aids, and Dru’s ginger cat, NICHOLAS, aka Sam Darnold.

DYLAN SCOTT, the son of TRISHA’S brother and his wife, JIM and GREER (note how inclusively proper I’m being), sent me this shot of him surfing at a spot he (and SURFLINE, to whom [whom because corporations are people, too] he pays a possibly significant monthly fee) identify as “GEORGE’S.

It is obvious, at 9:53 or so on SUPERBOWL SUNDAY, that goofyfoot Dylan has the green light in his favor as well as a reduced crowd because all the North San Diego County surf enthusiasts were, no doubt, pulling avocados off the trees to prepare a satisfying snack. WHAT wasn’t obvious to me, when I was checking out the photo on the phone, in bed (after a game that was probably boring [other than the half time show] for everyone who wasn’t a SEAHAWKS or, you know that other team fan, with us [Seahawks fans] absolutely riveted/worried, clutching our skittles, and oysters, and rosary beads, and listening to STEVE RAIBLE and DAVE WYMAN on the radio because we just don’t trust or like commentary from CHRIS COLLINGSWORTH)… exhausting… what wasn’t obvious to me was, where the hell is George’s. SO, I texted Dylan.

Evidently George’s is on the section of beach between CARDIFF REEF and SEASIDE TRAILER REEF, both of which, according to my research on the GRAM, were going off on this day. SO, I had to do more texting, the you-really-don’t-want-to-hear “Back in my day” stories, bearing in mind that I started surfing the North County beaches beyond Oceanside Pier and Tamarack in 1965, and left the area in late 1978. “Just in time” you might say. “Yes. I hear it has become more crowded.”

SO, Dylan, ya see, that part of the beach, in the mid seventies, when I lived in Encinitas, was called STRETCHMARK BEACH. This was, according to the hipster who hipped me to it, because, paraphrasing here, “Surf chicks who, like, had babies, they would take them there rather than, you know, other spots.” However rude and inappropriate, I stand by the previous name.

Continuing the ‘my day’ stuff, before my day, there was a pier in Cardiff, and, when I moved to the Great Pacific Northwest, SEASIDE TRAILER PARK was not yet a parking lot. AND, and, yes, I did once surf there, on a Sunday afternoon, with DONALD TAKAYAMA the only other surfer in the water.

NOT bragging, but grateful.

“ERWIN” THE MOVIE news:

Not sure this will work. I have the cheapest WordPress account, and didn’t think I could have videos. I ran into JASON QUEEN, both of us getting skunked. He stumbled onto the beach and into this video by Annie Fergerson. The link I previously posted no longer works. Possibly because the video was picked up and shown as part of the PORT TOWNSEND FILM FESTIVAL and was part of the worldwide SAVE THE WAVES festivals, Jason seemed to believe there is some fame attached to being in it. YES, there is now a sub-genre of videos featuring old surfers still at it, but, no, I don’t seem to have any lingering side effects of my notoriety.

All I was really trying to do was post the link. If you haven’t seen this, yes, I do realize there’s a bit of comic relief here, and, yes and again, I do realize my level of ridiculousness. I just keep trying to rise above it. OR, maybe it’s part of my evil scheme to get a few more waves in a crowd.

GRIPES AND HYPES, and any comments, write me at erwin@realsurfers.net

INSTAGRAM ME- realsurfersdotnet

HEY, if I can, indeed, post videos, I might try putting up another page with some MUSICAL ERWIN stuff. FUN. Hope you’re getting enough waves that you won’t be there when I go the next time. Nothing personal. HAPPY VALENTINES DAY to those I love, and to all lovers. HAPPY HATERS’ DAY (whenever that is- seems to be most days) to all the haters.

There is no top to love short of heaven, no bottom to hate. The difference between love and hate is the difference between flying and falling. It’s where you land. Oh, yes, and how you land.

Dylan Hits Swamis, George Gets Free, Blues Mid-Week and… That’s Pretty Much It

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, real surfers, surf adventures, surf novels, surf sessions, Uncategorized

Trisha’s Brother’s son, *DYLAN SCOTT (and I’m claiming co-Nephew rights), out of focus after sampling a little THIRD POINT MALIBU. That’s not the story. After moving to ENCINITAS in August, Dylan had surfed BONEYARDS, other spots around the NORTH COUNTY, he had not surfed SWAMIS.

UNTIL YESTERDAY. I got this text: “Finally surfed Swamis this morning. It’s even better than it looks. I’m hooked.” Well, thanks for blowing up the spot some call ‘Swarmies,’ some call ‘The swamp;’ now all kinds of interlopers will show up hoping to score. I mean, SCORE!

BUT WAIT, tell me more, Dylan. “I have to thank (or curse) you for giving me a reason to paddle over there. I was sitting at Boneyards, catching nothing, thinking ‘My Uncle is writing a book about the spot, and it’s right there…'” So, yay!

“Yay? Another surfer in the lineup.” Yeah; guess so. SORRY to offend. “Another surfer who claims Swamis as his home break.” Yeah. 62,007 people lived in Encinitas, 2020 census. Divide that by… I don’t know, 3.14159… break down the surfers in the lineup into real surfers, sort of surfers, adult learners, tourists, interlopers… and, oh my! It is probably crowded right now! AND a certain number of the surfers will be named Dylan.
Dylan sent a video of him surfing the inside section. “What? Do you have your own Filmer?” “No. It’s from SURFLINE Rewind.” OKAY; so if you want to see Dylan surfing, assuming you have the package necessary, go to ‘January 6, Swamis.’ Maybe it’ll work. I’m hoping my nephew will email the footage so I can see it on a big enough screen. NOTE- Definitely not accusing SURFLINE of blowing up any spots with cameras shooting multiple angles, or, as I have done, forecasting awesome waves that send hordes but fail to deliver awesome surf; small, crappy, AND crowded.

IN A SORT OF CONNECTED story; several of my Northwest surfer friends have made sojourns down to North County, with tales of surfing spots I surfed before moving to the Great Northwest, my response always being, “That’s my spot.” “Oh, I thought _____ was your spot, or _____, or_______, or ________.” “Yes, and when I worked in Oceanside, my spots were _____, and _____, and whatever peak showed up. When I lived in P.B., my spots were ______, and _______, and _______. When I lived in Encinitas, I was working up the hill from Trestles, I rarely surfed Swamis. When we moved back to San Diego, proper, I cruised up to Swamis.”

ADAM WIPEOUT,, universal LOCAL, sent me some reports from a trip he took down there. Adam claims to have surfed decent Rincon and gotten waves, decent Malibu and gotten waves (combination of patience, charm, referencing some vague rules of etiquette, and begging, I’ve decided). Adam says he paddled to the OUTSIDE PEAK, ingratiated himself with the crew de jour, and got some rides. Not, he pointed out, in the ‘KIDDY POOL.’ “What?” Now I was offended. “You mean the INSIDE PEAK?”

Okay. Another discussion, another time, BUT if you paddle out at Swamis, be sure and ask someone who looks secure of his or her position in the pecking order, “Do you know Dylan?” See how that goes. Get back to me.

*Parents- Jim Scott, Greer Knopf-Scott, brother- Carson (equally cool despite not surfing).

Trisha’s and my longtime Friend, George Takamoto (doesn’t surf) at his last lunch after more than forty days spent at Saint Michael’s Hospital in Silverdale. Though George refers to it as ‘Saint Mike’s,’ he was pretty stoked to leave and move to a non-hospital in Poulsbo. George has been undergoing dialysis for two years, and has had some setbacks. It was pretty sketchy for a while, but he seems to be rallying.

IN OTHER medical news, my daughter (yes, Trisha’s and mine) Drucilla is going to St. Michael’s on Friday for more cancer-related surgery. Fuck Cancer! I’ll update on Sunday.

Because I’m trying to put together an anthology of my writing, I’m posting some samples while looking through my files for other examples of songs and poems and essays and short stories.

HOME BY MIDNIGHT, that’s all I ask, this job is over, I’ve done my task, Right now I’m driving, man, I’m dragging ass, home by midnight, that’s all I ask.

Home by midnight, perhaps before, I don’t know what I work this hard for; Do I want something, no, something more; home by midnight, perhaps before.

Home by midnight, the road’s so long, I pray for wisdom, and to be strong; What keeps me going’s a highway song; home by midnight, the road’s so long.

Other people’s castles, that’s where I spend my time; but when it comes to coffee break, I don’t even have a dime; when payday finally gets here, but the money’s all been spent, I have to get a side job just to try to pay the rent.

Home by midnight, and I can’t win, tomorrow get up, do this again; my wheel’s aren’t spinning, no, they just spin; home by midnight,, and I can’t win.

Home by midnight, perhaps before, now, I keep working, but I stay poor; just want to see you at our front door, home by midnight, home by midnight, home by midnight, I’ve got my foot pressed down, it’s right against the floor, home by midnight, perhaps… before.

AS ALWAYS, thanks for checking out realsurfers. Find some waves.

All original works on realsurfers are protected by copyright, all rights reserved.

You-Tubing/Dreaming Swamis/Big Waves in General, Full Wetsuits in 63 degree water,

Posted on by under "Swamis" the novel, northwest surfing, old surfers, real surfers, surf novels, surfing in Washington State, surfing the strait of juan de fuca

This isn’t from the most current big wave event at SWAMIS, but, that doesn’t really matter when it’s the same deal any time the news media (and all your instagram surf-adjacent folks) hypes up an incoming swell; every wannabe hero paddling out at one of the only places one can (easily) make it out in San Diego County on those swells that come down from up here in the Pacific Northwest (just incidentally, totally missing the north shore of the Strait of Juan de Fuca); and… yes, getting out at Swamis is easy; not getting in some other hero’s way as they ride a wave they snaked someone else to get, getting more than three waves in a session, not kooking-it up and crashing on a takeoff with 89 scrappers, 19 actual rippers, and five videographers, 105 cell phone or actual cameras, and all the eyes of a bluff and stairway full of tourists and surfers who claim they got the sickest wave ever (or plan to, once they wax up and have another hit or sip… all trained on you. YOU. You.

Don’t blow it.

Damn! FELL OFF AFTER THE DROP!

YES, I have my own not-quite-a-hero stories; already shared. For years. Swamis, Windansea, Sunset Cliffs, Cardiff, Upper Trestles, La Jolla Cove; pretty much the other accessible spots on big days.

AND

But now, leeward of the swell, I just might have overdosed, self-medicating in the long nights of this amazingly warm winter (not arguing global warming while trying not to sound like I’m indulging in geezer-talk, but 50 degrees plus on any December day; not what it was when we moved up here in 1978, haven’t scraped ice in a while) by watching waves and wave riding on YouTube: Some amazing rides among so much disappointingly bad surfing, almost all of the scare-factor coming from the crowds rather than the waves.

Raw footage? No. Please edit the shit out of whatever you put out there.

I do have a few ISSUES, other than the oversold clickbait headlines/come ons, “20-25 foot Blacks,” for example. I only sometimes appreciate the ‘here I am getting a parking spot, here I am putting on my full wetsuit, booties, gloves, hood, floatation vest, compass.” behind or near the camera commentary, having heard enough “Sick,” “Rad,” “Oh no!” “Come out!” “Kook burned the other kook!” “Look at that one!” “Shit; broke his board and didn’t even make it out!” “Can we get pizza, Daddy!” Yeah, I’m looking, but I frequently fast forward and I almost always turn down the volume on the background music/rap.

HERE IS A QUESTION I felt compelled to text-ask of Trisha’s (and, by marriage, my) nephew, DYLAN SCOTT: Okay, two questions: Are you getting any of those waves? Why the hell are surfers wearing so much gear when the water temperature (I checked) at La Jolla Shores (where he lives) is 62.6 degrees. “WHY, back in my day, water got to 58, you put on your short john and…” Dylan did text back a ‘YES,’ and that it is a bit of overdressing, though he has become fond of booties.

ME, TOO; ever since that time at SEASIDE (not the one in Solana Beach, though I have surfed there) when I got bullheads in my feet walking up toward the… the cove. Wheww, almost said too much.

All this SCREEN SURFING may have affected my dreams. YES. So, last night I had this dream… you know how wave height is often compared to multi story buildings? It’s never, “Whoa, the wave was as big as a rambler in a tract out in the valley!” So, someone is giving this woman on a board close to shore shit for getting in the way. I go out (imagine, IF YOU WILL, Nate Florence or JOB with a POV sequence).

WHEN I GET TO THE LINEUP, there’s this multi-story building (imagine the train station at the entrance to Disneyland- I may have been) that is, evidently, a wave. I turn, I paddle; I’m at the peak, ready to drop in from the turret/tower. AND, looking down from something that magically turns back into the biggest wave my mind/memory can muster, I… CHOKE.

THE GOOD NEWS IS no one caught it on camera. It won’t even be one of those shorts that pop up- 29 seconds of dude who shouldn’t have been out considering the multi-story conditions.

THAT’S MY STORY. Hopefully, in the coming year, you’ll have moments and sessions worth remembering; and, sure, hopefully you have many from this year.

I do hate to mention how close I am to totally finishing the manuscript for “SWAMIS.” I am culturally bound not to say too much about when and where I have surfed recently, or where and when I plan to attempt to find waves next. So, I won’t.

Oh, and HAPPY NEW YEAR to all the real surfers! Yes, I am including kooks and posers and hodads and, of course, geezers. I do plan on posting some new click-worthy stuff on Wednesday. Thanks for reading.