Stretched some cincos

Saturday morning Gordo and I headed up north to the "the rock". Slightly overcast skies opened up to blue skies. There were some mid chest highs that snuck through on 25 minute intervals, mostly waist high. We managed to squeak out a couple cheaters on the inside. Overall a small but fun day.

On the way home we stopped at Howe's and bought some carne asada, tort's, avocados, Cholula and some other fixin's to grill tomorrow. The Tecate's are already chillin'.

Music—Stan Getz—When The Sun Comes Out

I need a little chaser

This morning was pretty fun. It was mostly waist high with some chest and head high sets. There was a little ripple in the water giving it some side bump. At 7 AM there was an eight wave set in the shoulder to head high range. On the wildlife front there were about 8 dolphins, one seal and some bait fish that kept trying to get out of becoming breakfast.

Mid way through my session I took off on a nice chest high wave, I set up for the nose and wrapped five toes over and about 15 feet in front of me Mike dropped in and I had to pig dog down the line, eventually digging the nose and loosing my board. I had to take a swim and get my stick back. Currently most of the cobble stones are covered with sand so the board was fine. As I swam to my board I accidently took a swig of that red tide, where's a bottle of Cholula when you need it.

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Music—Brendan Benson—Spit It Out

Doo the Dah

Years ago, I was out surfing with a few friends at a spot that has a history of being a bit aggro at times. While in the water we started to talk about the "stoke" that surfing brings and how a great session can feel like a wet blanket has been thrown over it by an aggro line up and shooting stink eyes.

We talked about ways of bringing back 'the stoke'.

An idea was planted.
What if we paddled out in costume. We joked about the possibilities, laughing at the images that we conjured up, it was all fun, it was a way of not taking ourselves so seriously. Three months later we came up with Doo Dah Surf.



Hello, I'm Patch and I'll enjoy myself first.
It was 2002 and I was the first one out in costume, the sun was not visible as it was still rising up behind the hills. There were two people in the line up, both sans garb, (they probably had no idea of what was going on, we tried spreading the word by guerilla marketing, posting flyers on cars and telephone polls but the idea of this event came together so quickly that some people either didn't know about it or didn't care). I remember hopping on the board and paddling out in a wig, some colorful lei's around my neck and a hula skirt. Making my way out to the point, I paddled by the first guy that was out, out of the corner of my eye I saw him do a double take. Finally, reaching the point, I grabbed the first official Doo Dah wave, a slow right that held up to the inside and petered out. Slowly more people entered the water, some in costume. That first year there were no more than 20 people in costume.

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The next year we had more success and the year after that even more. Pops, a guy from Doheny, filmed a little documentary on the event a couple years back. He screened the event at SanO on the beach. This July will be the 4th annual Doo Dah Surf, It's pretty cool how the little idea has in some way helped bring back the stoke.

This is the flyer we used the second year

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Music—The Specials—Enjoy Yourself

Honey, I shrunk the waves.

Last Tuesday, I knew it was going to be small, I was hoping for some 1-3 footers to have some fun in. As I rolled up to the curb, I peeked to my right, it didn't look good. I got out and saw very small, perfectly shaped ankle slappers. A guy was down by the wall getting a closer look, I've never seen him around. He came up the stairs and we both nodded. Then he said.

"Those suckers are perfect for a rodent?"

I said, "I was hoping to get wet before the lull"

He continued, "Duuude, you know what the future of surfing is? There gonna develop a machine that will shrink us down so we can surf these perfect little waves, I'm telling you, it's gonna happen."

"You really think so, huh?"

"Just wait, man, you'll see."

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Music—Band of Horses—Weed Party

Las Mamas givith waves

There are times when forces join hands and make a pact to cooperate, when this happens, it's pure bliss. On one hand you have the swell. The good kind. The long period ground swells in the high 'teens' and up. These forces, hundreds of miles away, thousands of miles away, create an end product that we search. Hopefully, the sucker aims it's energy right where you happen to be. There you are dangling your feet from the floating foam you choose to ride and in the distance the rising water makes its way to you. On the other hand, you have the wind. That wind can groom the face of the wave, flipping the lip like the pompadour you wore to the Blasters concert in the early 80's or it can destroy the face of the wave like a bunch of kids jumping around in a small jacuzzi. Late September is usually a good time to see these two ladies, Miss Swell and Ms. Wind, come out and play, they tease you a little here and there and get you all worked up, but in the end they know your time has come. Their gifts usually arrive in the form of a steep rush of water and you can feel her light breath exhaling off shore in an attempt to groom what was already perfect.


Music—Skatalites—Garden of Love

If

If the waves are small, there's always something to ride.
Patch cruising on his cutom Black Wave skate, shaped by buddy Ken Cole.

Music—Islands—If

Lemonade and eggs

This AM I picked up Gordo and we scouted the northern LA spots, it was pretty mixed and junky, shifty peaks. Passing by the beach breaks we saw lo tide close outs. Things were a bit smoother as we came around Dume. We finally scoped out the 'bu and had some fun 1-3 footers. We had the 20 minute lulls separated by some chest high sets. Ended up seeing Pete, Caro, Big Chad and his bro out.

Overall, a "lemonade" day, where you make the best of the 'lemons' that were peeling.

After getting home and rinsing the suit, the kids ran up to me for a big hug, I kissed my wife and we colored eggs.

Not a bad day.

Music—XTC—Easter Theatre

Darewheelin'

A talented and inspiring wheel chair bound athlete named Darwin Holmes rides his wheel chair like a skateboarder.

Check out farfrumwalkn.com

Music—John Vanderslice—Continuation

What's that smell?

The nose knows.
I came up to PCH and parked near the fire hydrant. There were a few cars already parked and a couple people already out. It was going to be a good morning. This was confirmed by lines I saw coming through the bay, I glanced up top and noticed a ribbon of white water from the first of a three wave set. I talked to Gordo the afternoon but wasn't sure if he was going to make it out. I started suiting up in the darkness into a damp suit (ayayay! that's cold). I grabbed the comb to scrape some wax and then threw my ear plugs on, I bent down to grab my board and saw feet in front of me.

"Gordo! I thought for sure you were going to be a no show"

"I've been here since 5:15"

"Was that you in front of me?" "Lets get out there"

I walked down the wooden stairs across the lot and through the famed Pillars which framed a dark but well shaped wave.

I made it to the wet sand and anticipated the cold water extend itself over my toes. The water was actually warmer than the air temp. The sand has covered most of the cobble stone, so you could walk out into waist high water before jumping on your board without any rock dance.

I made it to the point just in time to take off on a fun 3 footer, there was a cold light off shore that was adding a little ribbed texture to fair to good shape. I sunk my rail in and stretched a five through the nose riding section, passing Gordo on his way out to the line up. The set waves were shoulder high and were a blank canvas to anyone that was on it.

Gordos last wave was pretty nice, a classic wave, speeding out in front and then cutting back into the froth and then back into trim, he got to the top of the wave and then the offshore stood him up and unfortunately stalled him out of the wave, not bad considering he was surfing with hypothermia from wearing a spring suit.

Next wave was mine, a shoulder high steep peak that lifted me up, I start gathering some speed, the shoulder steepens and I am a little deep, I race to the nose digging my back foot into the inside rail and extend my front foot over the nose block as I try and beat the section, I make it and the face opens up and it's play time as the next set up to the nose approaches, another steep section and another cross to the nose.

As the sun started to rise, the colors started to come alive, two dolphins made an appearance, playing and having as much fun as we were.

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Great noserides today.

Music—The Sea and Cake—Two Dolphins

A long walk to a gem

My first time surfing this particular exposed reef point break was awesome. We were camping down south and I was primarily surfing the beach break down the bluff from where we were staying which wasn't all that great, the sand bars were tweaked and it was typical bottom turn close out junk. To the north of us was the pier, to the extreme south was the point. The pier was a closer walk but those little white clouds of white water further south peaked my interest, the way it appeared to uniformly close itself like a ziplock sandwich baggy.

The swell was expected to hit full impact in the morning, so I made sure I was going to be on it. I woke up and slithered out of my mexican blanket like a woozy snake shedding his skin, I prairie dogged my head out of the tent opening, trying to remember where I was, I noticed the ice chest and beyond it stood the picnic table and beyond that was my car, I started making my way to my board which I stashed inside the vehicle, a quick wax touch up and I was ready to make the trek down the bluff, I just needed to take care of some morning business first. Plop. I was done. Or so I thought. Plop, plop, OK, now I was done.

Down the embankment I headed, across the train tracks and over a small mound of hard dirt. Here is where I made my first stop to peak at what was happening. "Nice", I said to myself. Excited by what the beach break was showing in terms of size, I kept heading south with the anticipation of surfing something new. Step by step I went, my feet were kicking up sand adding a shuffling noise that added a nice contrast to my breathing and the shifting of the board against my shorts, like a soft back beat to a trance song. What I thought was going to be a long walk ended up being that times two. I was looking forward to getting in the water because I was actually getting tired and hot and the sun was barely even up yet. It was summer and the water was warm, I could trunk it with a vest for the pre-dawn go out. The walk was still much further than I expected.

As I got closer my mouth started to open like a draw bridge being lowered. my heart was pumping a little faster, kind of like when you know it's time to unwrap your xmas present and your just waiting for you mom and dad to say it's OK to start ripping the wrapping paper off. I was still a ways from getting my toes wet, I was getting closer and saw perfect peeling lefts and some short rights with only four people out. As I get to the waters edge it's noticeably big. 10-12 foot sets were coming in, it was a long period south, so there was big lulls in-between the buses, which was perfect for timing your paddle out. I inspected the line-up since it was a new break for me, a great swell and I was paddling out without a leash since I forgot it at the campsite. Out of the four people out in the water, two could surf, the other two were in way over there head. I timed my entry to the water after a four foot shore pound, timing it perfectly. I made it to the peak and let several waves go to the two that were already there. My first wave, an 8 footer, opened up nicely a steep wall with a long section that was holding up, I sped through making some cuts at top and bottom, the next section was a floater to get up and over and a reentry. Finally a quick exit as I kick the board out just before some solid shore pound.

On my paddle back out, I notice the two guys that are learning are laying down way to far back on their boards, legs spread wide, they start to drift to a safe distance off into deep water. The other two guys know each other and I make an effort to give them their space and their choice of waves and slowly melt into the rotation. Time seemed to stand still, so many waves and only 45 minutes out. After an hour and a half a new person shows up. This person appeared out of nowhere from the stack of gate guarded homes. A couple more people make it out here and there and by hour two there were maybe 15 guys out.

The waves kept coming, I was dialed in to the personalities of the line-up and the wave itself. I started to now where to go on the bigger sets, there was some over strategizing and people ended up too far outside (I find that this happens alot on big days).

Three and a half hours later I was surfed out, hungry and I had a long walk ahead of me.

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Here's an old sepia of Phil Edwards surfing the same break.

Music—Jehro—Sweet

Nice and clean

Some fun surf in the right places.

Music—Yo La Tengo—Did I Tell You

The charm of concrete

Like all good architecture, The Wall, is inspired by the nature that surrounds it.
A simple arrangement of rows of painted brick, sprinkled with an unforced setup of rock working its way up the panels, like a pecking order. There is artistry in the detail. Every so often, a unique organization of small stone and brick stands out from the surrounding surface, like pure grace of a Dora or Carson from earlier times.

Music—Elbow—Forget Myself

A little slide and some cuts

I had a solo run to "the Calle". Some fun 2-3 with that odd neck high making an appearance. I took the Bruce Jones and had plenty of fives. The water temp is starting to make a little come back, upper 50's. After the session, me and my two boys went to get a haircut while the girls made it to a b-day party.

Music—The Who—Cut My Hair

Reflecting on the beat and line riffs

The most prolific I've ever been as an artist was the year following the death of my father. Expressing my self on canvas was natural and during that time paintings were coming out of me one after another. I also surfed a hell of a lot during that time. Surfing was a place I could find time to reflect, clear my head and come to the realization that life is fragile, every surf day was a good surf day, because, well, I could surf, I was alive, hurt but alive.

Often times while I was lost in my thoughts, I thought about what it meant to be a father, and the amazing gifts my dad had left behind, gifts in the form of traits and memories. He was an incredibly loyal person, he took great care of his family and he embraced life. I remember, as a small kid, having family over for great Cuban food (my mom is Cuban), like pork or medianoches and great Colombian feasts of empanadas (my dad was Colombian). These get togethers were centered around music, my dad was an incredible conga player, an uncle was a superb guitar player, someone else knew how to play this and others new how play that, everyone seemed to be able to sing and everyone danced. There were always instruments around to add flavor. The musicians sat in an open circle and in the middle of that circle people danced. I remember sitting in my dads lap while he held my hands as he guided me on the congas, it was often times a complex beat, so I had to just loosen up and let his hands take control, soon I digested the rhythm and kept the beat or at least tried. These were very memorable times for me, the warmth of close family and friends enjoying music.

Other times the same sort of gatherings centered around art. My dad was very creative, I remember times on several occasions where he would riff on a painting, he would create line and form and then give the painting over to another to add or embellish and they would go back and forth. The same sort of thing they were doing with music only this time with pastel, chalk or oil stick.

Coming up with the Incredients.
On a good surf outing, I get the same sort of feeling I get when I conjure up those memories of the musical sessions or artistic riffs that I remember from my childhood. I think it all goes back to doing something you like, letting spontaneity happen (or not) and having the whole experience wrapped up in a good vibe.

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PS This morning was fun,waist to occassional chest with some bigger sets sprinkled in. Slight onshores, the sun was out but it was very chilly. It was nice to see some of the old faces.

Music—Cachao—Goza Mi Mambo Cubano

Salad

Choked by the sea cabbage.
Offering solice from the wind.
There are times when I want to grab you and yank you from the sea floor.

Music—Pavement—Into the mouth of the desert

Patch at the 'bu

Music—Hudson Bell—Atlantis Nights

Wave Cabeza

Music—The Mountain Goats—Sometimes I still Feel The Bruise

Basque juice

Music—Josh Rouse—La Costa Blanca

I'll take mine to go

Music—Snow Patrol—Hands Open

www.savecountyline.org

The wave you see me riding is threatened by the development of 25 homes that are going to be built directly across the street from the break. Negative impacts include sewage systems, beach sand, urban runoff, street privatization. If you enjoy this break you should know it is being threatened, you should also know that it's not too late to speak out.

Go to www.savecountyline.org and let your voice be heard.

Music—The Submarines—Vote

The maker of the Malibu Chip and I

A few years back I had the good fortune of meeting Matt Kivlin. Kivlin was a highly regarded shaper and designer who was inspired by the early work of Bob Simmons. Matt, along with friend Joe Quigg, helped push the boundaries of board design in the late 40's, eventually, Kivlin would produce what became known as the "Malibu Chip."

Music—Enon—Pleasure and Privelege

Kewl read

Check out "Thomas and I" at www.smokebox.net, a short story writtem by Pete Lewis. Pete is the wordsmith working on the novel "Surrendering to the Undertow". I worked on the illustrations.

Good work Pete.

Music—Modest Mouse—Float on