Aberrations of Summer

The ever eccentric artist and filmmaker, Thomas Campbell, was asked to make a short film featuring a few of Tory Burch's summer swimsuits. This is what he came up with. As seen on Stoke Harvester.


Thirty Five Millimeter

Sometimes I get tired of taking pictures. There's too much to know, you know? Aperture, exposure, all that other noise. Sometimes I just want to surf. Or sleep. Or stay warm. Especially when it's winter. And honestly, I don't really like what happens when I try to capture light correctly. Point-and-shoot, that's the shit I'm interested in. It's easy. Which is why I picked up one of those waterproof Kodak cameras couple of weeks ago. I figured I could snap a few photos while I waited for waves. Or better yet, when I was on a wave. Wishful thinking.

The damn thing was a lot to deal with, though. Around your wrist, it was in the way. Around your neck, it was hard to get your hands on. And with those lobster claws I wear in the winter, it wasn't easy to re-wind. All that to say, I only took ten or twelve photos with the fucking thing. The rest were wasted; taken when I was out of the water, where frozen fingers wouldn't fuck up a photo. Anyhow, here's a few that came off that camera. Funny, but Karissa_Would take all these images, as most of the ones I tried to take didn't turn out. Go figure.

Why Knot

Tyler Warren sliding atop a Model-T, which was shaped by Donald Takayama prior to his passing.


Board as Fuck

We've got this thing going. I guess you could call it a routine. But those get boring. We usually flee the city around five on Friday. We drive north in a hurry, forgoing any opportunity to spend time with friends or family. Sometimes we eat dinner while we wait for the ferry - Marination Ma Kai makes killer kimchi fried rice. Following a twenty-five minute float, we stop to buy beer and fill up Fargo. We'll usually pull into Port Angeles after eight; find a few friends, drink a couple of cans and shoot the proverbial shit. If we're lucky, we'll get up around nine the next morning. From sleeping to the sea takes but ten minutes.

This weekend, like the last, a buzzing sound beneath the bed woke both of us up. It was a text message from our dear friend, Dr.Jake: "Waves are waist high. No wind." Well hot damn! But by the time we ate breakfast, drank coffee and paid to park, there was wind. Lots of it. We stood on the sand for over an hour, hoping it would die down. Bored, Bricky decided to put on his man pants and paddle out. I stayed ashore. Sometimes you score. Sometimes you sit. It's a goddamn dice game. Anyhow. Here's a few photos from the time we spent standing around on Saturday.

Under the Mist

Bing board rider, James Parry, surfing the south coast of Cornwall. Filmed by Frankie Davies.



Justin Quintal, Nick Collins and Chris Tincher share some waves in So-Flo. Directed by Drew Miller.

Swing Mood & Southern Sojourns

I've been having a hell of a time. Unlike others in the industry, who seem to be consumed by consumption - some strange desire to desire - I find myself fulfilled. And yet, at the same time, entirely empty. Without the right words, it's hard to explain. There's a lot to look forward to. Weekends away, a sojourn down south, maybe another trip to MX. But behind it all, when I peel back the bullshit, I'm left with this lingering feeling of self doubt and disillusionment. Like I'm not seeing what's right in front of me.

My thoughts come quickly. One or two sentences at a time. Frustrated. Feeling as though I'm the only one aware that none of this is going to last. That whatever you want is not worth it's weight in whiskey. That you should acquire experiences - be them good or bad - and not all the accouterments. All that excess. Surfing seems to help. And perhaps all this is the result of me not having surfed for what feels like forever (two weeks?!). But even the best wave, the one you chalked up as your finest work that weekend, fades from memory faster than the time you spent on the tip. Flickering. Because if you're lucky, you might remember a moment of that moment.

Or maybe it's that I'm surrounded by people that I have little in common with. Preoccupied with house wives and house work and all the other shit that you're supposed to do following those few years you're allowed to say "what the fuck." Is it age? Or is it that I'm wholly unwilling to let the little shit stop me from pursuing some sense of serenity? Why the fuck do I feel this way?

For whatever reason I think of a conversation I had with a woman I once worked with. She was in her late fifties and well aware of the fact that those with a lot almost always want more than those with very little. She said to me one morning, after a beautiful young woman had walked past our window - husband hanging back a few feet, obviously uninterested in what was right in front of him - "Show me a beautiful woman and I'll show you a man that's tired of fucking her."

Mexico Logging

Cyrus Sutton surfing an Aquatic Almond somewhere down south. Featured on Regressing Forward.


Not New York

I was in New York all week for work; the International Motorcycle Show at the Jacob K. Javits Convention Center just south of Hell's Kitchen. I like New York... a lot. More meat, less lettuce. Anyhow, while I was outta town the wife went looking for waves. I'd been eyeballing the weather report all week, and although I was nowhere near, and certainly in no position to surf what I saw, it looked like there'd be some reasonably sized swell - with big intervals and offshore winds. Goddamnit! I knew it'd be nice. So on Sunday, Karissa and our friend Steve headed west in search of surf. Clearly it was cold. But it sounds like they scored. Follow the link for a few photos of what I missed last weekend.

The Weekend

What I've been listening to lately...


Independent Temperament

"No witness is needed to one's accomplishments out here, nor an adversary with whom to compete in order to make one's effort meaningful. The activity is sovereign, complete unto itself, and hence it attracts those of a certain independent temperament. But the simple, unspoken act of sharing with a good friend the joys of wave riding adds a precious layer to the experience, like some secret trust between you."

- Allan C. Weisbecker

Post Modern Pig

Sean Tully surfing a 9'10 Zamora PMP at Malibu. The board, which they describe as "a pig inspired log with a twist of the modern noserider," features a wide point aft, fuller deck, deep blended nose concave, flatter rocker and just enough tail kick to help you twinkle all ten toes. As seen on Stoke Harvester.


The Weight of Water

Two or three weeks ago, Mikey DeTemple and a few of his friends traveled to Maine in search of surf. Plenty of pictures were uploaded to Instagram, followed by a few things on Facebook. Clearly it was cold; twenty-eight outside, thirty-seven in the water and a wicked wind chill. But beside the frozen bits, it looks like they scored some perfect little peelers. Click here for the film and here for the photos.

HUB's Abominable Winter Ale

I try to buy a different bottle of beer on our way outta town every weekend. Usually when we stop to fill up Fargo. I like the Longhouse, as they have a healthy selection of both microbrewed and bullshit beer; everything from Miller High Life to the Midas Touch. Always a sucker for a cool looking logo, I couldn't help but buy a bottle of Hopworks Urbran Brewery's Abominable Winter Ale. According to their website, this seasonal stuff is made with "Cascade, Centennial and Chinook hops and six organic malts," and has a "complex floral, spicy and citrus hoppiness backed up by just the right amount of malt sweetness." An interesting list of ingredients, and I'll be damned if it wasn't delicious! A lot like an IPA, the "A-Bomb" as HUB refers to it, has 7.3% ABV and is available in both 16oz. cans and 22oz. bottles.


Two Plus One

This time of year, adversely affected by the inclement conditions in which one might find themselves, it's easy to overlook some of the things that surround you while surfing. Tall green trees and snow sprinkled mountain tops. Clear blue skies, or that light layer of frost sitting atop the sand. Clouds that come and go - changing from pillow white to purple and then pink. It can be beautiful, but sometimes you can't see it. Because you're consumed. Overly interested in your wave riding experience. Disconnected with every thing else that's there. I'm just as guilty as the next guy. But I've been trying to change. So when we fled the city on Friday, I was determined to spend the weekend enjoying all that winter has to offer. And albeit cold, it was wonderful. There were waves, waist high or better, some sun, and only two other people in the water with me - one of whom was my wife. A going away gift, as I'm in New York next week.

The French Connection

Here's another short bit of film featuring James Parry, Clovis Donizetti, Matt Travis, Mike Lay and Buster Nichol surfing somewhere in the south of France last summer. Filmed by Fankie Davies.



Certain skills can be acquired when one spends all of their free time searching for surf. You'll learn to be both patient and persistent. To be self-reliant; to remain steadfast in the face of unforgiving failure. Most importantly, though, you'll learn to love a certain kind of sound, er, more like the lack thereof. The lack of loud. Quiet contemplation while you wait for waves. But there's another sort of silence, an absence of sound you'll sometimes encounter after surfing a spot that's, well, secret.

Defined in the dictionary as an informal adjective, hush-hush is how some of us say "secret" - shut up for the less enlightened. It's also a word one might use to describe a wave: "It's an A-frame, that breaks over black rock. You can only get to it by boat, so it's sort of hush-hush, you know?" Clear and concise. A surfer will understand what you're trying to say; that you're not going to tell them where to find this wave. They should, however, enjoy the idea of it. Because this sort of silence, this hush-hush stuff, it's pretty important. Especially when it comes to waves. "Never kiss and tell" is what my mother would say. "It's not good to gab." And now that I've been there, to that secret spot breaking over black rock, I understand what my mother meant. Some things are best kept quiet. Some things should stay hush-hush.


Check out this Super 8 surf flick featuring James Parry, Matthew Travis and Alex White. Lots of logs. Just enough jazz. Brought to you by British filmmakers Kristian Butler and Christian Bailey.


What's Going Right

Here's a short bit of film from So-Flo surfer slash filmmaker, Drew Miller, highlighting some of the silly shit that happened last summer. Video comes courtesy of Longboard Retro Days.


India Pelican Ale

I drank my first pint of India Pelican Ale after surfing the shore pound in Pacific City this past summer. Nothing's better than drinking a beer on the beach! To be honest, though, I'm not all that interested in IPAs. I usually sip something more subtle - Pale Ales or Pilsners. But that evening, as the sun set behind that big rock, I found something that would forever change how I feel about the British. Kinda.

Originally a seasonal beer offered by the brew pub, the India Pelican Ale quickly became an official offering after numerous people demanded a pint. Made with both Cascade and Centennial hops, Pelican's IPA is full of flavor... but not bitter. And with 7.5% ABV, it'll definitely grab you by the boo-boo! Lucky for me, it's one of the many IPAs available at the Long House. So on our way outta town last weekend I bought a tall bottle. And when the surf didn't show up on Saturday, it was an excellent alternative.

digz apparel

A few weeks ago I received an email from an aspiring entrepreneur and New York native named Michael McWilliams. He wanted to know if I'd be interested in supporting his surf inspired clothing company, digz apparel. I promptly replied, asking for additional information about the brand: Where will it be made? How is this different than Hurley? Etc. Michael wrote back before the end of that afternoon. He told me they were planning to launch a Kickstarter campaign and that he'd pass along a link as soon as it was online. Another email arrived a few weeks in the future. Inside was a link to the aforementioned crowd funding campaign, as well as information about the brand and the kind of clothing they're planning to produce.

A$AP Rocky

What I've been listening to lately...


Sunday School

Maybe it was the wetsuit, or the winter weather (I sure do miss Mexico). Or maybe I drank too many White Russians with my buddy Bricky. Whatever it was, one thing's for certain, I couldn't surf worth a shit on Sunday. It's not like there weren't waves - mostly the closeout kind - but some of the rights were alright. With a strong shoulder and a fast face. I caught a couple. Running my fingers along the front, grabbing the rail because my backside is bullshit. Most of the time, however, the sea swallowed me whole. Short excursions into the aquatic unknown. Upside down and underwater. I really can't complain; shitty surf is better than breakfast in bed. And while the waves weren't what I wanted, I did score some stoke. Took four hours and a few frozen fingers, but we were outta the water in time to see the Seahawks school the Redskins. A few pints at Peaks, followed by burgers at the Bushwhacker. Not bad.

Ratical Day

Aaron 'King Rat' Cervantes surfing his 9'6 Cy's Aquatic Almond somewhere near Newport.


Hidden Sea and the Pyramid of Fire

A few months ago, my friend Foster, along with a handful of people from Patagonia, took a trip to an otherwise unknown region of Russia, the Kamchatka Peninsula. After endless anticipation, Foster and his friends spent the better part of two weeks in some kind of six-wheeled super wagon, searching for surf in this remote part of Russia. A short film highlighting their trip has since been released, along with a plethora of pictures courtesy of Chris Burkard. It appears to have been an excellent adventure. Click here for the film and here for the photos.


Below the Boat

According to their website, Below the Boat is the result of an unabashed love for an often under-appreciated world that lies just beneath the surface. Made in Bellingham, WA by Robbie and Kara Johnson, these bathymetric charts (the underwater equivalent of a topographic map) are laser-cut into sheets of Baltic Birch, hand-colored and then glued together to give them depth. Each chart is then wrapped in a custom wood frame and protected by a sheet of Plexiglas. They're current inventory includes both the Salish Sea and the Puget Sound, as well as a number of other aquatic areas in and around the Pacific Northwest. I've already added one to my #wishlist.

Well North of Maybe Mexico

Short bit of film featuring a funny lookin' fella surfing somewhere that wasn't warm. BLAST IT!!!

The One Motorcycle Show (2013)

Two years ago, Karissa and I took a trip to PDX for what I believe was the first custom motorcycle show curated by the See See Motor Coffee Co. We drove down following work on Friday, stayed at the Ace Hotel, and then had one hell of a good time the next night. Funny, but I think that's when I met Todd from Twinline. Anyhow, we weren't able to attend last year - something about ten feet at twelve seconds - but it looked legit. Which is why I wanna go again.

This year, however, The One Motorcycle Show will be a three day thing starting on Friday, February 8th and ending sometime on Sunday, February 10th. The show, which will be held at the Sandbox Studios in the northeast part of Portland, will feature bikes built by Chabott Engineering, Deus Ex Machina and 4Q Conditioning, as well as 21 helmets decorated by all sorts of artists. If you're interested, additional info is available here.


Nine Eight Noserider

After borrowing a Bing BN Lightweight last month - and surfing a somewhat secret spot down south - I came to the conclusion that I would like one in my life. A 9'8 noserider with a custom color scheme. The board, which Matt Calvani describes as "an overall lighter, more versatile traditional log with all the noseriding functionality minus the weight," comes with a single bass stringer, lighter glassing and a full size fin box. An excellent addition as far as I'm concerned.

So, in order to acquire said surfboard, I've decided to sell a few sticks. A friend already bought my Becker, and, thanks to the salty scum at Stoke Harvester, I should be able to sell the Blue Banana before too long. But what do I want my new log to look like? Howsabout a bright red body with big black-and-white jail stripes?! You can see the shitty sketch I sent to Margaret this morning. I'm pretty sure it'll be prettier in person. And since we're planning to pick it up sometime this spring, I should be able to surf it in So-Cal. Stay tuned!

Kassia Meador x Captain Fin Co.

Eighty four seconds with Kassia Meador and the Captain Fin Co. Brought to you by Jack Belli.