Forty and Freezing

We came home to the cold. Forty degrees that felt like freezing. In an effort to adjust, we decided to go surfing. So, following a rather uneventful evening, we arose early on Friday to eat breakfast with my father before boarding a ferry boat. We then spent four hours in Fargo... which felt like forever. There were waves, though. A spot I haven't surfed for some time. We shared the stoke with a few friends from Seattle. Nothing to write home about.

We hung out at the ToadLily House till ten(ish). Ate cold cat food for breakfast the next morning. In the water around eight. Following fifteen days surfing sans wetsuit, I was all kinds of exhausted. It took some time to adjust to all that extra, well, everything. It was nice knowing that if I had to swim for my stick it was only a few feet back to the beach, though. More like miles in Mexico. After I adjusted to my hundred pound Halloween costume, I pulled my Pig into a few peelers. Slow and steady. Dancing down the line.

Logging in Java

Christmas logging on the Indonesian island of Java. Brought to you by Deus Bali.


Maybe Mexico: Part Three

Karissa made quite a big breakfast this morning. Scrambled eggs, onion, peppers, potatoes... She split an avacoado and buttered some bread. Damn, it was delicious. After a couple of cups of coffee - belly full to the brim - I put on a pair of Katin traditional trunks, the black rashguard I bought at a dive shop in Seattle, and paddled out. A little late to the lineup. Eight or nine people already out. It’s been small the last few days; nehi soda with the occassional shoulder high set. There was little to no wind and lots of waves that won’t make you miss home.

It's Not Over

What I've been listening to lately...


Lady Logger

Check out this short film featuring French lady logger, Margaux Arramon-Tucoo, which was filmed and edited by Haley Gordon following some of the time they spent surfing in Southern California this past Fall.

Maybe Mexico: Part Two

An early evening allowed us to got outta bed a bit earlier. First thing on Friday. In the water around eight. No time to eat. There’s a four or five hour window without wind, as we’ve learned, so it's best to be out early. Funny, but I felt cold for the first time in four days. Water was warm, but that breeze will keep you cold - cold being relative of course. Mike and Tracy's 40th wedding anniversary was the next night. A pretty big party. In a pretty big house above the beach. Million plus with a pool. It was an opportunity to meet and eat with a lot of interesting people. The ever infamous Corky Carroll being one of them.

Thomas Bexon @ The Temple

Check out this short video highlighting Aussie surfer and shaper, Thomas Bexon, and some of the time he's spent at Deus's Ex Machina's 'Temple of Enthusiasm' on the Indonesian island of Bali.


Maybe Mexico: Part One

Warm water will wake you up. Not in the traditional sense; eyes wide open, oxygen in and out, attentive. No, not like that. Warm water stirs the soul. A big brown wooden spoon, turning you round and round. Mixing. Like a Kitchen Aid with all those extra attachments. What a wonderful thing - just ask your wife. This was my first time surfing sans wetsuit in three or maybe four years. Not since an October excursion to Honolulu. This time, though, the trip took us somewhere south. Across a border and into another country. Maybe Mexico.

Patagonia's Hooded R4 Warmsuit

I was many things that morning - hungover, half awake and hungry - but what I wasn't, not even little bit, was cold. It was the second Saturday in October, and the first weekend I felt like it really started to get cold on the coast. There was a northwest wind kicking over the ocean, leaving us with nothing but white capped waves. Shoulda brought some soap and washed my whites ;) But that's beside the point. This is about staying warm when it's windy and well below 40 degrees. When a warm shower and a cold beer go hand in hand. And I'll be damned if my new Patagonia R4, a gift from my ever wonderful wife, didn't keep me nice and cozy that cold morning on the coast.


Schnoz Slidz

Made by Michael Kew, check out this short film featuring Daniel Graham, Dylan Cox and Troy Mothershead. Even though the dude doesn't dig what we're doing, I still like to share this sorta stuff.

Could've Been Better

We took Shawn surfing on Saturday. An early xmas gift for our favorite farmer. We picked him up around four-forty-five and boarded the boat before six. Coffee at the Cup & Muffin was followed by a few hours in Fargo and five rounds of flatulence. Before we knew it, we were standing on the sand wishing the wind would die down. Put our fingers over the fire for awhile. Shot the shit with Harley Tom and the Curmudgeon Cowboy. What a mess it was, when we did decide to surf. Sloshing about. Some swell. Sans intervals.

Fast forward fifteen minutes and we were outta the water. We walked down the beach a few hundred feet and found a small sandbar that was throwing a nice right shoulder. I surfed like shit, though. Not sure what it was - unsettling information, Bokanev on the beach, maybe my mind was already in Mexico. I dunno. It was fun, though, the few that I found. We had to leave a little early in order to attend the Abandonato's third annual 'Nog Party' that night. So we stopped at the Blackberry Cafe, ate breakfast for dinner (again) and then booked it for the boat.


Ankle Slappers

Josh Gilberts surfing some of that sloppy So-Cal stuff last summer. Brought to you by Grayson Hild.


Captain Coffey's Winter Wishlist

Here's the top ten, er, thirteen things you definitely don't need this December. I know, I got a little carried away. But honestly, some of this shit makes sense. Like a custom bike built by the dudes at Deus ex Machina, or a big ass bottle of Kahlua - you know, for Caucasians. Or howsabout a blaster that belonged to a Blade Runner, or a copy of Mike Black's movie?! Then there's all the stuff you should already wanna own. Like a proper pair of pants, a Bing surfboard, a bad ass backpack, some sexy wood sunglasses and a ceramic sippy-cup ;) Follow the link and take a look at what's on my winter #wishlist.

Offshore 1965

Here's the second half of Harrison Hine's short film, Offshore 1965, a 16mm flick that highlights the Hoshi Reef Surf Team as they traveled the southern California coast in search of swell. Featured in the film is Miki Dora, Mike Linden, Skip Frye, Mickey Munoz, Ron Sizemore, Jeff George and Mike Doyle.

The Strangest Thing

Words of wisdom from Nick Marchant and Matthew Wood. Brought to you by Beach Bum Lovers.


Hemel Board Company

I stopped by the Hemel Board Company in Ballard last week so that Steve could fix the front of Too Blue Stew. Cause I might have dropped a multi-tool on it last May (my bad), and it's the only board short enough to send to Mexico next Monday. I'd heard good things about Hemel. Ding repair done right. So with just a week to waste, I dropped in and dropped off. Steve and Shane were in the shop - Shane polishing some skate decks for an evo event that evening. Steve showed me around the shed. There were some old school sticks waiting on one wall, partly finished projects on another. Everything you'd imagine. We shot the shit for a few, but I could tell they wanted to get back to business. Can't blame'em. Excited to see the Stewart in good shape again. Follow the link for a few photos.

It's Your World

What I've been listening to lately...



Robin Falxa testing Gato Heroi's new 9'4" Playboy Model at La Côte des Basques in Biarritz, France.

Full of Cotton

"There’s nothing to mourn about death any more than there is to mourn about the growing of a flower. What is terrible is not death but the lives people live or don’t live up until their death. They don’t honor their own lives, they piss on their lives. They shit them away. Dumb fuckers. They concentrate too much on fucking, movies, money, family, fucking. Their minds are full of cotton. They swallow God without thinking, they swallow country without thinking. Soon they forget how to think, they let others think for them. Their brains are stuffed with cotton. They look ugly, they talk ugly, they walk ugly. Play them the great music of the centuries and they can’t hear it. Most people’s deaths are a sham. There’s nothing left to die... We’re all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn’t. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing."

- Charles Bukowski


Allow me to sum up the shit show that was this Saturday. It all started with an argument regarding refraction. Tall talk of swell bouncing about the strait. Dice were rolled. Arrived as always, late Friday night following a bad ass beer at the Silver City Brewery in Silverdale. Awoke Saturday morning to the strange sound of Fred Rogers singing Won't You Be My Neighbor? It was Jake, come to wake us up in his own way. After a quick cup of coffee, we headed west in search of surf.

According to Wikipedia refraction is "the change in direction of a wave due to a change in its medium." I had my doubts, but there were waves when we arrived. Waist high with a small left shoulder and a long running right. I switched sticks and spent some time surfing Shawn's, er, Jake's nine-foot Dewey Weber. A goddamn good time, I tell ya. Four hours with four friends. After a short shower, we headed to the Blackberry Cafe and ate breakfast for dinner, followed by a piece of pie. Blackberry, naturally. We then went back to Bricky's, got good and drunk and apparently had a pillow fight.

Love on the Board

Alessandro Ponzanelli at Il Pontile on the Mediterranean Sea. Brought to you by Nicola Bresciani.


Pretty Pig

I've been playin' with the idea of picking up another Pig. Classic, not Feral. I know, I should probably surf something else - maybe a Mini Simmons or an Original Noserider - but there's something about the swine. Maybe it's them wide hips or that goddamn D-fin. I've talked about it before, Pig Fuckin' and whatnot. Anyhow, in looking for inspiration I stumbled upon this pretty lookin' Pig. Something straight outta the sixties. With a one-inch redwood stringer, tail block and a glass-bead wood fin. I do desire.


Over the last few months, I've become increasingly obsessed with A-frames. An architectural aesthetic popular in postwar America, A-frames were easy and affordable to construct, required little to no maintenance and often came in kits - you know, like LEGO's. So to further my ever growing obsession, I ordered a copy of Chad Randl's aptly titled book, A-frame.

Published in 2004, the book "tells the story of the "triangle" house from prehistoric Japan to its lifestyle-changing heyday in the 1960s." An architectural historian working at the National Park Service, Randl has compiled more than 200 images and illustrations, along with an abundance of information on A-frames and their influence on modern architecture. There's even an appendix with a complete set of blueprints in case you want to build your own!


21 Helmets

Perhaps you're in Portland, or maybe you like motorcycles, or art. Well, if any of them things are up your alley, you should probably stop by the See See Motor Coffee Co. this Saturday for the second annual 21 Helmets show. There'll be some pretty interesting artists in attendance; Shinya Kimura, Drake McElroy, Aaron Draplin, Mathew Foster, Wes Lang and the dudes from Death Spray. Doors open at 5pm. And it's free as far as I can tell.

Memo from the Surf Desk: The Walrus

Lemme tell you a lil' tale about a man we call The Walrus. A salty scoundrel. Rotundus. Rude. He wears a wide, white mooostache and looks at you through small, black, beedie eyeballs. He surfs a SUP sometimes. You've probably seen him, surfed with him, been snaked by him, shot the shit with him in the parking lot, E: All of the above. He's there, and that's unfortunate. Because unlike a lot of other places, we put up with his bullshit. We let him bitch. Complaining when it's crowded. When you're suiting up and he's standing on the shore - "This would be fun for maybe four people." Then he starts counting: cars, kooks, boards and bystanders - "Six, seven, eight..." He'll choke it, the stoke, his fat fingers around its throat, and all you can do is stand quietly at his side and watch as it fights for it's final breath. The Walrus always wins. That heavy breathing sea sweeper. Bastard! But we musn't let him any longer. No more rides in the back of the bummer bus. No more bullshit excuses about crowds and kooks and senile stoke seniority. You can go to hell, Walrus!


Duke Dangerpants

Heat #2

Some fantastic footage from the second heat of last year's Salinas Longboard Festival, featuring James Parry, Oliver Parker, Tyler Warren and Chris del Moro. (via Jan Latussek)


Some Surf Sunday

It was a weird weekend. Four days and you'd figure we would've found something. But not so much. A little here, not-a-whole-lotta there. Surfed the same spot three outta the four. It was that warm shower, I swear. Found a few Friday morning - waist high and windy. Saturday sorta sucked if I can remember correctly. Had a hell of a good time, though. Friends and food and beer and foosball and way too much whiskey with just a whisper of that sour stuff. Somehow we woke up early the next morning. Maybe it's because we snuck out around eight-thirty and fell asleep in Fargo. Sorry Sanchez ;) Good thing, too, cause we caught waves. Many of them. Most of the morning it was just Joe and I. We picked a peak near the pay shack and shared the stoke. Twinkled some toes and pitched a few pretty turns atop the pig. It was worth the wait. But it always is, isn't it?

Laisser Lucie Faire

What I've been listening to lately...


Ponzanelli & Calvani - Part Two

Here's the second half of Luca Merli's short film which highlights the rather unlikely relationship between Bing Surfboards owner and shaper, Matt Calvani, and Italian logger, Alessandro Ponzanelli.


Stoke Snacks

Karissa and I just spent the last four days with Fargo, searching for surf, playing foosball with a few local boys, eating big ass burgers at the Bushwhacker, watching Lincoln at the Lincoln Theater on Lincoln St., consuming copious cocktails and mining some stoke. It wasn't a bad way to spend an extended weekend. Here's a few photos following our Saturday session courtesy of our friend Derek Sparks.

Topo Designs - Holiday Collection

Our friends at Topo Designs recently released a handful of new things for the Holidays. Made in America, like all of their items, Topo's 2012 holiday collection features a few updated offerings, as well as some all new pieces, to include a fleece pullover, mountain jacket, camp blanket, five-panel ranger hat and an aluminium water bottle. Follow the link and take a look at what's available this winter.


The Faces of Friendsgiving

We spent Wednesday with a few friends. An evening of alcohol, overconsumption and excited conversation about everything from Tussy to the last four-pack at The Longhouse. Good times to go around. Forgoing the Thanksgiving tradition on Thursday, we decided to go surfing instead. Sitting inside the van, looking through the photos from our Friendsgiving, one theme was ever present; funny looking faces. Some strange looks from Shawn and Sanchez. The confused face of Caleb. Salty Steve and Timmy Two Nostrils. And so, without further ado, I give you 'The Faces of Friendsgiving.'Follow the link for a few of the photos.


Surf Scooter

To be honest, I'm not all that stoked on scooters. I leave'm for the ladies. Or them weirdos that ride Sarah Connor style Honda Elites in high-viz vests and half-shield helmets. I dig dirty dirt bikes and old school ironheads. Fast and loud. But every now and then something slow and svelte sneaks into my circle - like a vintage Vespa or a real low Ruckus. Or like this 1976 Honda C70 build by the dudes at Deus, which, as far as I'm concerned, is all kinds of awesome. It's powered by a Honda C100 engine and has 18" wheels front and rear, as well as custom suede seats and a suicide shifter on the side. It's a lil' surf scooter. And it's exactly what I'd want if I were living on the island. Follow the link for a few more photos.


Second Session

You gotta go back when it gets glassy. Forget that fucking sandwich. You can snack on some stoke! I really don't know what I was waiting for. Maybe it's cause I took a nice long shower after our first session - got me all warm and fuzzy feeling - standing in the sand, snapping photos of friends. But the "power of the waves" prevailed. I just couldn't resist. I'll be damned if it's not the drug, and I the junkie. So I put a wet wetsuit on around five after four. Paddled out and found a peak. Some windless waves, knee to waist high. No one else seemed to be enjoying them as much as myself. Big ass bottom turns. High and tight. Ten over atop a proper pig. Jazzed the glass until it got dark. Goddamn it was good.


What I've been listening to lately...


Dead Sound

A slow-mo loggin' session somewhere near San Diego. Brought to you by Bubba Durket.

What Happens When

So this is what happens when you wait. When patience pays off. When the wind and the rain stop, and some swell shows up. But how were we to know? When we arrived early that morning there were waves, but there was also a lot of wind - sideways shit. But with nothing better to do, we slipped into our suits and swallowed a fist full of fukitol pills - Joe, Charlie, Karissa and I. It was alright at the rainbow pole. A few fun ones. Nothing to write home about.

After a couple of hours, the wind picked again so we decided to call it quits. Paddled in from the pole, put our wet wetsuits in a plastic tub, shared a shower and then ate a few slices of peanut butter bread. Unfortunately, Joe and Charlie had to get going. No more than twenty minutes after they'd left, though, the wind stopped and the swell showed. What dumb luck. Here's what patience provided us.


Aaron Cervantes surfing an Aquatic Almond in Newport this November. As seen on Stoke Harvester.


Geoffrey Holstad

I wish I could remember how I found my friend, Geoffrey Holstad. I think I saw his stuff on some sorta website, maybe an inspiring illustration or interesting looking lettering, and then followed the bread crumbs back to his blog. And a damn fine blog it was. Page after page after page. Images and illustrations. Camping crap and all kinds of other cool shit. Then, after I'd browsed to the back of his blog, I sent Geoffrey an email and asked if he'd be interested in designing a new banner for the top of this here blog. Something inspired by surfing and camping and cold waves. Fast forward a few weeks and guess what was waiting in my inbox? That business! (points up). Along with lettering, illustrating and printmaking, Geoffrey is also the founder and director of Cabin-Time, a roaming creative residency to remote places. He's also a surfer, a self proclaimed optimist and someone that likes to listen to jazz! So, what else is there to say about my friend from the mitten? I suppose I should let him tell you about surfing on the Great Lakes and what inspires him to make art in the middle of nowhere.

Nine Six Triumlux

Robin York, Senior Editor at Blue Surf and Travel Magazine, spent some time at Bing Surfboards chatting with Matt Calvani about his new board, a 9'6" Trimulux with a Bavarian flag on the bottom.


Topo Designs Duffel Bag

I've bought a lot of bags these last few years. Backpacks, briefcases, two kinds of totes and a few different duffels. But this one is different. This one is made in America - handcrafted in Colorado from 1000d Cordura. This one has genuine leather lash tabs and a leather grab handle with two big brass snaps. It's lined with a coated nylon pack cloth and has a handful of pockets that are kept closed with YKK zippers. And all the straps are made from recycled seat belts. This is a no bullshit kind of bag designed to do one thing; carry all kinds of stuff. And it's exactly what I need for my trip to Mexico next month.

In The Bay

Watch Matty 'Waxhead' Chojnacki surf a slightly modified McTavish somewhere near Byron Bay. The board, which measures 9'5" x 22.5", was designed by Chojnacki and borrows its template from a stick that Bob McTavish himself surfed back in 1966. Video comes courtesy of Andrew Gough.


Nine Foot & Single

Short bit of film highlighting Deus Ex Machina's second annual '9ft & Single' festival in Canggu, Bali.

Smells Like Skunk

When you surf this season, you gotta know you're gonna get skunked sooner or later. But two (cold) nights for nothing!? Four hours and a few hundred miles for even fewer waves. Yea, I know, it'll make the sweet that much sweeter. But sometimes it's just a little too sour, you know? A lot for a little. And I'll be damned if we didn't get skunked last Sunday. We even got up early to see what was shakin'. Bought a cup of coffee at Bella Rosa and ate a big bowl of cereal behind the wheel - no time for foolin' about now. But it just wasn't working. Nowhere. Nothing. So whataya do when there ain't no waves? You skip rocks... and then you skip town.


The Fine Art of Pig Fuckin'

Surfing swine is a lot like swinging a baseball bat with all those extra weights at the end. It's overkill of course. A warm up before your big at bat. But it's something that'll sharpen your skills and strengthen your style. So when you pick up a smaller stick, it'll feel like everything's a little easier. The rotation. The recovery. You'll come back from the bottom faster than before. You'll pull into the pocket and dart down the line. High and tight. Ready to tiptoe towards the nose.

Your exits will also improve. Because a proper Pig - ten foot and Feral - well, they're unwilling to go under. Like a sailor with those two tattoos. Steadfast. So you hold on to your hog real tight. Ride it out. Surf that shit. You'll also learn to let go, to wait for the right wave and not try to sneak into the candy store shortly before it closes. Patience young pig fucker, patience. Save yourself a swim.

Some people say pig fuckin' is like porntipsguzzardo. That all the extra weight lets you catch waves like a canoe. But with them big hips and that big fin, it ain't easy to turn, to control. It's a lot to love, you know? Hard to handle. But if you can get comfortable with the size of your swine, you'll start to develop a different sorta style. Active. Upright. Maybe a bit more balanced. And then, when the next waist-high waterhill wanders your way, you'll know how to throw that thing around, how to run all the way out and stand on its snout. Because nothing slides like swine.

Deer Tick

What I've been listening to lately...


Slow Left

When I see stuff like this, it reminds me why I shouldn't stop surfing when it snows. That 6mm suits and lobster claws and frozen fingers - all that extra effort - it's not for nothing. Because I'll be damned if Dean Petty doesn't surf the shit outta that Silver Spoon. And I can't imagine he'd complain about the cold or the rain or the wind. Man's gotta cup full of fortitude. So here's to winter waves and sixty minute sessions!


On Instagram

Small waves, strong drinks, motorcycles and misbehaving on the @peanutbuttercoast!

Dano Forte x Captain Fin Co.

Sixty nine seconds with surfer-slash-shaper, Dano Forte. Brought to you by the Captain Fin Co.


A Pig Poem

A few days ago I asked my friend Mike, someone that sure knows how to Surf-A-Pig, if he'd be willing to offer a bit of advice in regards to sliding swine. Cause it ain't easy, you know? Big in the back, narrow in the nose, slow and steady. It takes a gentle touch. Some soft hands. I really wasn't sure what to expect. A diatribe about stop-and-go style? One hundred words about hot dogging? I certainly wasn't expecting a poem about pigs! "A quasi haiku of sorts." You never know what you're going to get with Gnar Gnar!

You'll Be Dead Soon Enough

“Try to learn to breathe deeply, really to taste food when you eat, and when you sleep, really to sleep. Try as much as possible to be wholly alive with all your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell. And when you get angry, get good and angry. Try to be alive. You will be dead soon enough.”

- Ernest Hemingway

On The East

Dean Petty surfing a 9'10" Original Noserider somewhere near Nova Scotia.


Memory Loss

Because I can't remember to keep a memory card in my camera, I asked Karissa if she'd share a few of her cell phone photos from last weekend. It wasn't really working the way we'd hoped, so small waves, strong beer, horseshoes and hamburgers sorta sums up the experience. We spent Friday night in Fargo watching the first season of Futurama, Saturday morning searching for surf and Sunday sitting in the water, waiting for waves. Really can't complain, though. What else would we do with our weekend?!

Brought to you by Bing

When most people get married, they end up with all kinds of shit they already own. Toasters and towels, sheets and silver serving spoons. Gifts from grandma. So when Ms.Would and I were deciding what to do for our wedding, we figured that instead of allowing our friends and family to spend their scratch on that sorta stuff, we'd ask them to help us buy a couple of Bings. We soon heard the screechy sounds of nanny-nanny-boober-cakes. "Surfboards! You guys registered for surfboards?!" Not sure why she was so surprised. We surf almost every weekend and neither one of us had ever bought a brand new board. So why not skip the shit and get ourselves some new sticks?!



Affixed to my fridge is a long list of shit I'd like to see before I kick the proverbial bucket. Toward the top of this list is Deus Ex Machina's Temple of Enthusiasm, on the Indonesian island of Bali. I've blogged about it before. About the bikes they build, the single fin contests they curate and some of the shapers they've seemingly enchanted with their black Bali magic. It's an amazing place. Or so it appears. And this trailer for Jack Coleman's forthcoming film about the Temple just reaffirms my desire to depart.


Long Gone

What I've been listening to lately...

Bean Boots

I left my umbrella at the office. Must have slipped my mind. Unfortunately, when I woke up this morning it was raining. To avoid being both cold and wet, I put on my man pants, some warm socks, two t-shirts, a sweater and my Tellason Coverall. But between our apartment on Alki and my office in the Industrial District, I was soaked. Obviously an umbrella would have kept me dry. But not my boots - a real nice pair of Red Wing's that were wet all the way through to my socks. Suppose I need some new shoes. Something other than Servus boots. Something that'll work on the rain soaked streets of Seattle.

Enter L.L. Bean. Made in Maine since I don't know when, Bean Boots are everything I could ask for. Rubber bottomed, not too tall and insulated if you want. Perfect for a pretentious asshole like myself who doesn't wanna look like an unemployed fish flinger. And they're affordable. $169 for the GORE-TEX flavor. Not bad for boots still made in the states. So the next time I forget my umbrella at the office, at least I know my socks won't be wet when I get to work. Just one more thing on my #wishlist.


Waiting Game

I don't have a whole lotta patience. I suppose it's a problem. Ten minutes into a movie and I'm outta my seat searching the fridge for food, or cleaning out our hallway closet. I can't seem to sit still. So as you might imagine, I suck at waiting for waves. Take last Sunday for instance. It wasn't working when we arrived, but you could tell that it wanted to. You just have to be willing to wait. But after standing outside for what felt like forever, I climbed back into the van, ate an apple and tried to take it easy. Goddamn if I ain't impatient! Fast forward five minutes and I'm pulling on my Patagucci and paddling out. Was one, maybe two foot tops. But we found a few fun ones - the wife, the walrus and I. Maybe it would've been better if we had waited awhile. Maybe just a few more minutes. But minutes ain't really my thing, man!

Ponzanelli & Calvani

First part of a short film that highlights the rather unlikely relationship between Bing Surfboards owner and shaper, Matt Calvani, and Alessandro Ponzanelli, an up-and-coming Italian logger.


Worth One Wave

Sometimes you have to ask yourself, is all this worth one wave? The wool lined wetsuit, the seven-mil boots and the lobster claw gloves. The rain and the wind and cold water. Is all of that worth a wave? Because you never really know what you're going to get. Maybe it looks good when you get there. Maybe the wind isn't working. Maybe the tide is on it's way out and the intervals are pretty alright. But then you paddle out, and the wind comes from the west and the sets shorten up and you stay outside to avoid getting cleaned up. That entire time you have to keep reminding yourself that it'll be worth it. That one wave, when you get it, will make everything alright.

And so it went this weekend. Only the wind was working in our favor - it was offshore all afternoon - and the waves were alright. Head high when we first went out. Decreasing in size throughout the day. I surfed a pig, ten foot and feral. Big bottom turns to tight spots and toes toward the nose. Switched sticks with my wife and surfed her Silverspoon. She struggled with the wind but found a few. When we called it quits the tide was on its way out. We headed into town for some supper, pretty good pizza, then back to the beach before the sun set. A few beers in the back of the van. Rain on the rooftop. Can't complain.

Summer of the Cat

Sixties style short film from our friends at Gato Heroi that highlights a handful of their boards, as well as a summer full of small surf. Featuring Robin Kegel, Cody Simpkins, Tyler Warren and Alex Knost.


Whole Larder Love

My friend Rohan wrote a book. A cook book. A grow it, gather it, kill it and then cook it kinda book. You see, Rohan lives in Australia, a place seemingly unaffected by the Nancy Drewness that has overcome a great deal of this country. So he grows his own goods, fishes for his own fish, shoots stuff with his shotgun and then cooks it all at home for his family to feast on. It's simple, really. But I suppose that's the idea behind the book. Simple recipes, seasonal stuff, locally sourced.

Rohan also runs a blog, from which his cookbook takes its title. On it, Rohan documents his cooking, hunting, fishing and harvesting, as well as his life on a small spot of land in the southeastern part of AUS. I bought his book for my wife, who, although unable to both kill and cook much of what we eat, seemed to appreciate the simple culinary style that Rohan writes about in his book and on his blog.

Click here to learn more about the book.

Autumn Evening

Mikey DeTemple surfing a 7'5" Christenson Flat Tracker somewhere along the Central Atlantic coast.



Fall is fickle. You never know what you're going to get. Rain or shine, wind or waves. Maybe some kinda combination. Really makes you appreciate all them good days. When you drive from spot to spot in search of swell and stumble onto something - like waves and nota whole lotta wind. It just makes it that much better. We weren't sure what we were getting ourselves into last weekend, but we knew we had to give it a go. Shortly after we settled on a spot a squall rolled in. Joe and Karissa climbed into the van and we started to watch Cycle Savages. But I'll be damned if the sun didn't show up. And the wind went away. So we suited up and surfed until five or six. Then headed to the Bushwhacker for a beer.


Total Enjoyment

"Surfing has been my life. It’s all I've done. It really doesn't matter how big or small the waves are. When you are out there surfing you are really competing with yourself. Let’s say you are in a bad mood and you go out surfing, you catch one good wave and it makes your whole day – heck, it makes your whole week. Surfing is just there for total enjoyment. It gives you peace of mind. Physically it’s good and mentally it keeps you focused. For example, if you are bothered by something and you go surfing – it’s a release. You can forget about everything. It’s just very, very enjoyable."

- Donald Takayama

Click here to read Glenn Sakamoto's interview in its entirety.

The Greaser

Short bit of film featuring Matt "The Greaser" Chojnacki, courtesy of our friends at Deus Ex Machina.

The Baddest Man Alive

What I've been listening to lately...


Stoke Harvester Stimulation: F/W

Looks like there’s all kinds of new stuff on Stoke Harvester. Topo Designs, Almond Surfboards, Patagonia apparel, The Surfer's Bible and a few new fins. Anyhow, after browsing around a bit I put together this lil’ collection of some of my favorite stuff. Click here to see what's new this winter.

Farewell to Summer

Mikey DeTemple and Kassia Meador bid farewell to the warm summer waves at Montauk, on Long Island's northeastern most seaboard. Brought to you by The Endless Bummer.


Cervantes Down South

Aaron 'King Rat' Cervantes surfing somewhere south of the border on a 9'7" Aquatic Almond.


Hunger For It

"As you grow up, get mortgages and children, other things take its place. But that’s good because it makes you hungry. I am always keen to hit the water because I don’t over saturate. I never fulfill that desire to go surfing. I’ve always got a hunger for it. It’s the greatest physical pastime you can have. It’s like playing chess with the ocean, you are interacting with this incredible force of nature. You’re playing a game with it and it usually wins. But on smaller days you might get a win.”

- Bob McTavish


Short bit of film featuring Kameron Brown, JJ Wessels, Tegan Gainan and Justin Quintal.


Man Pants

My friend Pete sent me a pair of pants. Man pants. He said they might be a bit big, but that I should wash and dry them in warm water before I made up my mind. They're baby shit brown, cut from some kind of canvas and narrow from the knee down. I've had them for a few months now and wear them every weekend. They're warm - real warm - and tough as all shit. Oh, and they're one of only twelve pairs ever made. Apparently they were having some issues with shrinkage ;) So to say they're unique is an understatement. An odd pair of pants for an odd fellow, I suppose.


Sunset Session

Jared Mell. Surfing Blackies at sunset. Sometime last Spring. Brought to you by Taylor Bonin.

Punked City Cruiser

I like all sorts of skateboards. Long ones, short ones, old ones, weird ones. Anything, really. Unfortunately, however, I'm not all that good at this activity. I mean, I can push my self along pretty alright, carve down a hill in the dark, or negotiate the shit-show that is Alki on a sunny summer day, but I can't kick-flip the fucking thing, or skate a bowl, or slide down something steep. When I was younger, maybe middle school, I was all about skateboarding. World Industries, Independent, all of that. I had decks and trucks and shoes and Jenco jeans with big silly pockets and stickers - so many stickers - but I couldn't skate. At least not the way I wanted to.


Know When To Say No

Sometimes I don't know when to say no. When to stay in the city. When I should find something else to do with my weekend. Because when the wind is working from the west, and the swell is separated by just a few seconds, that's when most people postpone their plans. An opportunity to explore other opportunities. But I had hope. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad. And why not spend my Saturday by the sea? So around five on Friday, we put a few things in Fargo, fueled up and headed for the ferry.


Duct Tape Invitational

Fantastic footage from Joel Tudor's 'Duct Tape Invitational' at La Côtes des Basques in Biarritz, France.

For The Fall

We had one hell of a dry streak, didn't we! Like thirteen weeks with less than an inch of rain. Salty Sunshine, Batman! Sounds like that's all about to stop, though. Rain is right around the corner. And wind. Gusts up to 43 mph?! Goddamnit. It was a welcome reprieve, those first few weeks of Augtober. But now we've gotta get ready. For dwindling daylight and frosty front windows. For cold mornings and hot cups of coffee. For puffy coats and wool socks and dark beer. For short sessions and plenty of time spent standing around a fire trying to stay warm. For better waves and worse weather. For the Fall.



I'm pretty sure I want a pintail. Something smaller. Not as long as the rest of my logs. And maybe a bit more responsive. Something that'll be fast along the face. For the Fall, when the waves finally wake up. After a couple of internet queries I came up with this - the Pinwheel. It's an Almond that was only available overseas, but has since been brought stateside.

It's narrower than the rest of their current collection and comes standard with either a single fin box or a glassed on Pin Fin. Featuring down-rails in the rear and a pointy pintail, this Almond is "a favorite for lighter-weight surfers and those looking to get a little more responsiveness out of their turns." Well, I'm definitely a lightweight and could use a board that moves about a little better. And I really like the way it looks. So I suppose I should add this to my #wishlist.


Experimental Shape

Mick Rodgers and some sorta experimental surfboard made by Matt Calvani (via Bing Surfboards).


La Poel

Coming back from the coast, Karissa and I stopped at the La Poel picnic area on the south side of Lake Crescent. Once home to the La Poel Resort - which included eleven cabins, a store, dining room, tap room, and service station - this lakeside loop is now part of the Olympic National Park and is a perfect place to pull over on your way home from the peninsula.

After finding a place to park Fargo, we walked down to the water to get a better view of both the lake and Mount Storm King. Thanks to the lack of nitrogen in the water (which inhibits the growth of algae), Lake Crescent is exceptionally clear and crystal blue in color. Formed during the last Ice Age, the lake is officially 624 feet deep, but many believe it to be nearly twice that deep.

Chojnacki @ Canggu

Matt Chojnacki getting 'involved' during Deus Ex Machina's '9ft & Single' festival in Canggu, Bali.

An Offshore Investment

Sometimes you have to stay. See what happens. Make an investment and hope that it pays off. Saturday was one of them days. Was offshore all morning, thigh high, with consistent sets coming through. I surfed for six hours, coming ashore just long enough to stick my face in a bag full of ginger granola, unwilling to remove my gloves and grab a handful. It was good. The surf and the snack. Rode my ten foot Feral Pig all afternoon. Plenty of time on the tip. My backside cross-step action needs some assistance, though. All in due time. Sunset was spectacular. A few hot dogs and a campfire before we called it quits.

Hot & Glassy

Cyrus Sutton, on an October afternoon somewhere near San Diego, aboard an Aquatic Almond.


The Quinoa Coast?

I picked the name of this project while eating a piece of peanut butter toast. All that energy was inspiring. Some monounsaturated fat and non-fiction first thing in the morning. Anyhow, I thought I'd let you know what I'm currently consuming around seven a.m., cause this blog could've been called 'The Quinoa Coast' had I started eating these seeds a little sooner!

The Waxhead Diaries

I really dig this dude's surfing style. The way he throws those big ass bottom turns. All hands up over his head. Stoic when he stands on the nose. Some of that sixties shit. Antiquated yet updated. An old soul.

Redington Topo Outfit

I've been interested in fly fishing for quite some time now. Not as a source of sustenance, as I am allergic to all kinds of freshwater fish, but as an activity. A skill that, a lot like surfing, I could acquire, develop and do for the rest of my life. Unfortunately, things like this require equipment. And equipment requires coin. But thanks to an article I found on Outside Online, I know what I'll need to catch a couple of fish.

It's called an outfit. A rod and reel, a few dry flies and 100 yards of fishing line. All of the essentials. And while there are all sorts of outfits out there, the one featured in the article I found online is made by a company called Redington, whose headquarters just so happen to be here in the Pacific Northwest.


Transverse Compliments

As most of you know, I love me some jazz. Almost as much as I like Oreos, or cold coffee. It just goes well with waves. Sorta soothing, you know? Anyhow, you should say fuck work for a few minutes and watch Troy Mothershead makes the most of an early April evening aboard a Gnarnia Noserider.


This Saturday, my friend Todd Fischer, along with renowned surf journalist, Drew Kampion, and a handful of other artists, will display a variety of surf-inspired artwork at the Port Townsend Public Library. The event, which starts at six, will feature surf-related writing and photography, as well as paintings by Jesse Watson, Todd Fischer, Steven Davis, Christian Coxen and Erwin Dence, Jr. So if you're in the area, be sure to stop by and check out what looks to be an interesting event.



What a weird weekend. The forecast called for some sizable swell, little to no wind and overcast skies. Expecting it to be ugly out there, Karissa and I parked in P.A. and planned to surf somewhere along the strait and narrow come Saturday. Seemed like everyone was out there this weekend, though. Sorta like the first day of school - a lot of familiar faces, frumpy faces, friends and few new fellas.

We found something fun. Inconsistent and kinda cold, but fun. Fast forward a few hours; standing on the shore trying to decide what to do, we figured it'd be best to pack up and push on. All the way out. With enough time to surf around sunset. I picked a peak and paddled. There were lots of lefts. Surfed the Silver Spoon. Sunday morning got glassy. Four hours with a few friends, a couple of pints at Peaks and then a ferry boat back to the big city.


What I've been listening to lately...


Portrait of a Surfer

Filmed in Cornwall, a stretch of sand along the southwest coast of the United Kingdom, this short film, which comes courtesy of Swami's Surf Shop, offers an insightful glimpse into the mind of Sam Bleakley, an English author, explorer and two time European longboard champion.


That Backside Boogie

While competition continued at Cape Kiwanda, I suited up and paddled past the flag pole, just to the north of where everyone was waiting for waves. It was good and glassy. With waves from the northwest, pushing past a 327 foot tall stone that sits out at sea and breaking just a few feet from the beach. It was crowded by comparison, but I managed to make my way through the mess. These fuckers were fast, though. Standing up along the sandbars and breaking almost always to the right. I paddled the pig into everything I could, sitting on the outside so I had room to rotate. Dragging my fingers across the face, tucked in tightly, covered up completely. Some waves went my way. One threw my stick to shore. Left it lying belly-up beneath the tailgate of a truck. Suppose I still need to work on my backside boogie-woogie.