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...

Playboy



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

Refraction

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.