MY ASCENDANT DESCENDANT

 

Rumour of a wave. So I head down to the bay, it's 2 foot and clean, no wind, dropping tide.

It's a warm night and a hazy sun gives off a dull beige glow. Not the sparkling Hollywood glitter of the previous evening, but the waves are better. I paddle out in the rivermouth rip at the north end and catch a couple of lefts.

I see my son further down the beach on the middle peak. As usual he is catching plenty of waves. I paddle over to greet him. We chat, remarking that it seems relatively quiet given that this is the first reasonable swell in over a month and it's a Friday night. Maybe everyone just headed straight to the pub after work.

My surfing ability has taken a deep dive over the last year coinciding neatly with Cealan's elevated skill levels. As I get older and slower, he grows in confidence and has rapidly overtaken me in terms of how well he now surfs. He is already better than I ever was.

I used to have a personal rule that dictated I had to catch a 3 wave minimum every session. Not an ambitious quota but one I could achieve quite comfortably, indeed sometimes hitting up to 30 waves on my better days. Nowadays I'll settle for a flipped version of that rule where I aim for a 3 wave maximum - and I'll admit that there have been a few sessions where I've struggled to hit that number.

Anyway, I had four good ones under my belt so I decide to catch one in and head home. Low tide now, so I walk back across the beach and climb the rocks up the cliff.

Once up on the cliff I turn and gaze back out to sea. I always pause like this apres-surf, taking a mental picture of the scene for the memory bank. I see lines approaching and watch as a set bulges up on the peak and I instantly recognise my son's silhouette stroking into the first wave. He swoops left, cross-steps to the nose, steps back, pirouettes a swift 360 (his signature move) and walks back up the board. It's a classic 'Cealan' ride. As he stalls on the tail to flick his board up and out of the whitewater he simultaneously looks up at the cliff, raises his arm and gives me a wave goodbye.

Eyes like a hawk, that kid.

MIXED DOUBLES

A beautiful and sunny Saturday morning, clean little waves and no wind. 

It's changeover day, which means all the tourists are either packing up, vacating their holiday homes and hitting the road if they're of the outgoing variety. Or they're stuck on the A30 in traffic on the way down if they are the incoming variety.

It leaves a nice little window to get in the surf without the crowds.

Me and R hit Gwithian before breakfast, just as we're getting suited up Cealan & Z pull up with exactly the same idea in mind. So it's almost a family affair and we paddle out to a little right hander that works pretty sweetly on an incoming tide.

We have it all to ourselves for a while and then Pete Dudley paddles over and joins us. We know Pete, he's a good surfer and a nice guy, originally from Wales but now a St Ives local (and incidentally an uncle to the very talented longboarder Elliot Dudley).

We all take turns sliding into quick, glassy peelers. During a nice 5-wave set Pete, Cealan and Z have all taken waves. R and I both paddle for the last wave & find ourselves riding in side by side. As we glide along the face next to each other Pete is paddling back out. 

In his broad Welsh accent he yells, "Lovely... Just like Torvill and Dean!

(Disclaimer: R and I have never ridden a tandem surfboard together. And it is impossible to find a tandem surfing image that isn't blatantly sexist.)

DON'T GO...

I went for a surf yesterday.

First time for over a month, cuz I've been landlocked with an injury.

Knee to waist-high waves, sunny and no wind. Perfect for a few summer dribblers.

It was busy, one of the reasons I tend not to go in the middle of the day. But the tide was on the push and the weak swell needed all the help it could get so I figured why not?

Someone dropped-in on me every other wave. And on those other waves if it wasn't a drop-in I was facing someone paddling out right in front of me on the open wave side.

I know it's summer, there are tons of beginners on holiday and on an inconsequential wave it's to be expected. But it is really annoying and also a bit baffling. 

I'm pretty sure that 99% of the people I encountered in the surf yesterday would have driven to the beach. Presumably they didn't pull out of junctions in front of oncoming cars and went the correct way through roundabouts.. (Kids & teenagers tend not to drop in, they are generally much more respectful and very aware of what's going on around them when they're in the water.) Therefore we can assume these adult learners aren't total idiots as they made it to the beach in one piece, so why does all their common sense dissipate when they get on a surfboard?

I'm not a fan of rules per se, but surf etiquette is just basic common sense. Whether we call them rules, or guidelines, or protocols or whatever.. There are only a few 'rules' you need to know and follow.

1. Don't drop in!

The surfer closest to the peak always has right of way. 

If you don't know where the peak is - (it's the first breaking part of the wave) think of it as the surfer with the longer potential ride has priority for the wave. 

If that is still unclear - Just look to the peak, if someone else is paddling for this wave and they are closer to the peak than you - they have right of way. 

If 'looking at the peak' is too complicated, try 'checking your mirrors' ie; simply check behind you to see if there is someone already on the wave who caught it before you and then back off and get out of their way.

2. Take your lumps

Paddling out - it is your responsibility to not get in the way.

Ideally - when you paddle out to the line up, don't paddle straight through the waves where people are surfing, paddle out where people are NOT surfing.

However at beach breaks this isn't always possible, but time it right and you can usually keep out of the path of oncoming surfers. But inevitably you will find yourself right in the zone where a surfer is already up and riding. 

The rule here is simple - when a surfer is on a wave you must go behind them NOT in front of them. The temptation is to go in front because that looks like the easier route, the wave may not have broken yet and the water is smoother. But don't do it! You must not go in front of the surfer already riding on the wave. You should go behind the surfer and into the whitewater if necessary where it is rougher and may not be so easygoing. Basically, you gotta take your lumps.

3. Don't ditch your board

This really is just common sense and basic awareness

It's very tempting to throw your board behind you if a wave is breaking that you can't paddle through. But this is totally irresponsible and selfish - you no longer have control of your board and whilst you may have got yourself out of harm's way there is a good chance you could have sent that loose board flying straight at somebody else. Hold onto it!

- - -

There are some other 'rules' about snaking and right of way and general etiquette in the line up, but in my opinion these three above are the fundamentals and should be taught by the surf schools alongside whatever else they teach beginners trying to catch their first waves.

We all make mistakes - at some point everyone drops in on a wave. But being aware of these basic common courtesies in the surf creates a much better atmosphere and keeps surfing fun for everyone.

SURF KNOTS

Surfing has revealed my Achilles heel* - or more accurately, my Achilles toe!

After a long winter of having to wear boots as a necessity, it is always a welcome turning point in the year when Easter arrives and the temperatures rise enough to ditch the kook boots**! I absolutely love those first few surfs back in the summer suit at the start of Spring when I can feel the wax beneath my toes again.

Here in Cornwall, the tail end of May saw an unbelievably good run of swell paired with balmy weather and a high pressure system that puffed offshore breezes across the peninsula non-stop for over a week. It was nuts!

Okay, it also meant the crowds were off the hook. But, by some magical meteorological coincidence those perfect conditions just stayed the same all day long everyday.

It was great, meant I could check the cams a couple of times during the day whilst at work to get a sense of where it was looking good, wait until almost dusk for the crowds to thin out and then go enjoy some sunset glass to satisfy my soul.

I did it again the following evening, and the next and the next... A total of 7 surfs in 7 days! Bliss.

Until I looked at my feet. Bliss had turned into blister and what I can only describe as a small pot-hole had been ground into the side of my big toe. Caused it seems by what my son laughingly refers to as 'foot dragger style'. Every night there was blood on the sand, then during the following day it would form a thin scab only to get knocked off again by the end of that night after yet another surf. Making that hole a little deeper, a little more gnarly every time. Can there be too much of a good thing?

Needless to say, it's now gone pear-shaped. Couple of nights ago, my whole foot was on fire and I could barely walk the next day. The evening spent in A&E confirmed an infection and the result is the next 7 days on antibiotics and probably spent out of the water too.

Maybe I should have kept those kook boots on after all...

- - - 

* If you don't know the origin of the term Achilles' Heel, click the link, it's a cool Greek myth. 

** I wear Solite boots in the Winter, they are the best boots I've ever owned - truly game-changers!

A TOWN CALLED PRIVILEGE

There was an incident many years ago, not back in the Dark Age (70s-80s), more like in the Middle Ages (90s-early00s), that I clearly remember.

It was a beautiful Spring day, and miraculously I found myself with a couple of child-free spare hours on a weekend. There was a slim chance of a small wave at Aggie and I really fancied a splash as I had recently become enthused by Mal riding and wanted to try and get in as much as I possibly could.

As with most surf spots in Cornwall the first clue as to the state of the swell was revealed by the car park - it was sparse. But I parked up and wandered down to have a look anyway. It was serene and lovely but barely surf-able, with just a tiny little wave nudging across the bay every few minutes or so. There was one guy sitting forlornly on his board, seemingly with the same idea as me.

Armed with the fresh revelation of how easy it was to catch waves on a longboard and determined to make use of my precious free time I decided to go for it.

There was only really one peak where the little ankle slappers were breaking, so I paddled over to join the other guy in the water. Aware of the etiquette of barging in on a solo session, I breezily asked if he minded if I shared a few. Thinking to myself that it was laughable at best to even be trying to surf on a virtually flat day and this fellow surfer would see the irony in this... 

His back was to me and he half turned his head and scowled a warning at me.

"Don't take my wave."

Not quite sure I'd heard him correctly, I asked..

"Sorry mate, didn't quite catch what you said there?"

This time without even turning to make eye contact he repeated loudly.

"Just don't take my wave!"

Ah, okay obviously a local then.

I was initially shocked by the aggression and then annoyed by the arrogance. Firstly, nobody owns these waves even if you have the good fortune to grow up next to them, and secondly there was nothing at stake here apart from an occasional dribble that might just about carry enough momentum to make it to shore, maybe.

Either the guy was totally wound-up and determined to enforce some kind of locals-only priority (which St Agnes is renowned for) or he was just a dickhead. Either way I wasn't interested and carried on doing my own thing and caught as many waves as I wanted within reason, allowing plenty to pass me by as I always would when surfing with other people around me anyway.

Eventually the tide shifted and what little swell there had been fizzled away to nothing. I left the beach satisfied to have got wet, but miffed by the weird exchange with the other surfer. It left a bad taste although I have to admit it did sadly reinforce an opinion that St Agnes locals do tend to love themselves a little bit too much.

- - 

Now twenty years later I believe I may have some understanding of what was going on with my friend in the sea on that flat, calm day.

The sense of privilege that let him behave in such a way must be even more bitter today. Maybe he did grow up in sleepy little St Agnes. An idyllic childhood in a charming coastal valley. Maybe he had surfed there all his life, run down to the beach after school with his mates, known everyone else in the water. And maybe he had seen the small terraced cottages get sold off to wealthy second-home owners. Now effectively no longer affordable for his own children. Maybe he was appalled by the influx of very rich, very privileged incomers who now made up most of the population and were smugly claiming the village as their own little enclave. 

Maybe he'd had an inkling of what was to come all those years ago when he'd seen me paddling out to try and surf 'his wave'. Maybe he'd known all along that his privileged little village would become a victim of privilege itself.

RIP GINCHY - Saturday 21st July 2018

..

I met Milky that morning as I was going out for a surf at Godrevy. He told me Paul had died in the early hours. It was a hammer blow. I was shocked, stunned and instantly conflicted - I really didn't feel like surfing but after to-ing and fro-ing on the shoreline for five minutes, I decided to paddle out anyway..

It was the worst surf I've ever had.

The worst because I was upset and distracted and overcome by grief. My mind was spinning with thoughts of Ginch. I swore, I sobbed, I shouted in frustration that he'd drawn his last breath while the rest of us could carry on living life. I was sad for Jenny and his daughters, all his family.

Maybe being in the surf was the best place for me to process this. On dry land I'd be a mess, pacing up and down, agitated and confused, not knowing what to do with myself. Being in the sea at Godrevy, on my board, was probably the best place I could have been. Every wave, every ride, every splash, every paddle-stroke was with Paul by my side.

I certainly couldn't call it a good session but it was the best I could do that day.

MID-TIDE CRISIS

I need some positivity.

It feels like there are too many people happily losing the plot. Too many people gleefully embracing fear and hatred.

It's official - ignorance is bliss.

And personally, there's way too much pain & sadness happening... Friends losing their minds, friends ending their relationships, friends sinking into depression, friends dying! Friends of mine actually fucking dying!

Light and shade, good and bad, up and down. Can't have one without the other, as simple as night and day.

I know that.

I also know it's facile to draw an analogy between the harsh realities of life & death with something as pointless and selfish as surfing. But it helps me process this stuff.

At the moment I'm fed up with being caught inside, continually hammered by the sets, tumbled in the whitewater, not knowing which way is up or down. I can't wait to be out the back again, catching the wave of the day, gliding and sliding with a big smile on my face.

And getting through all this shit is just another mid-tide crisis.

FIN

Having ridden the same 9" squirrel tail fin in my longboard for over 10 years I felt it was about time for a change.

Lately I've been surfing a lot with my 17yr old son, who has a very clear idea of the kind of surfing he wants to do. He is all about the trad style with a mix of old school colouring and a layer of youthful flair.

Watching him surf has inspired me to start thinking again about what I do on a wave. The squirrel tail is a very good allrounder - quick to turn, decent drive and enough rudder to hold a noseride if you're nimble and the wave is 'just right'. But it felt like my surfing was a little stagnant and this in turn pushed me to pop out the old squirrel tail and slot in a 10" Josh Farberow Flex by Trueames.

Wow, everything changed instantly. It feels like my 13 year old log is brand new. It rides so differently. Grippy and solid for cross-steps, yet still enough flex to squirt some drive when the wave jacks up and a quick redirect is required.

It's all about the fin!

WHY I'M NOT A 'SURFER'

I started skating in '76, surfing in '79. And even though the two were supposed to be closely related, it was crystal clear to me where the real style was...

(Don't ever call me a surfer.)

80s pro surfers, Niijima island, Japan. Pic: Tom Carroll

Click pic for way too much detail...

NEW SCRIBBLINGS

Buzzing with ideas this year..

Retro-ish typography for your local spot - why not?

You can see some similar stuff here.

COMING THIS YEAR...

Gonna be revealing some nice stuff this year..

Coming soon...

GOIN' LEFT - the story of a wave

..go very left.

Me and Stu went for an early one - it was a decent sized swell, coupled with very strong southerly winds. Which left us with only a couple of sheltered options. We scoped a spot and decided to go for it.

The paddle out was the usual Cornish-beachy-at-size slog, and there was a sweeping rip to the north, so any loitering in the line-up resulted in a drift up the beach requiring another head-down, salty-eyed paddle against the wind to get back in position.

The waves were overhead, but it soon became apparent that only one or two waves in each set were actually peaking & peeling while the rest of the them were top-to-bottom closeouts.

We both snagged a couple of good ones and then as the tide dropped out and the waves got even steeper we noticed a particular bank start firing - the wave was jacking up in exactly the same spot each time and doing as good an impression of a left-hand reef break as you'll see on our local beaches. The shoulder lurching up, spitting out a crest of whitewater and then scooping out into a rapid, peeling left across the sandbank.

The wind was a challenge though, because unless you were right under the lip and right on the peak, it would gust up the wave face so hard that it lifted the nose of the board, stalling you in the lip - frustrating...

The only option was to sit deeper and have faith that the offshore would hold up the wave and allow enough time to get in.

A set rolled through, the lip already feathering as I decided to go for it. Luck was on my side as this one stayed open, and I stroked down the face feeling the momentum shift as the wave folded over and knew I was in.

Then it got interesting. It was really steep, and as I looked down the line all I could see was a near vertical wall of dark green water ahead of my left shoulder with no sign of any tapering wall beyond it. (Note: I'm a regular foot) But it didn't feel like a close-out somehow, and I certainly didn't have time to straighten out. So the only option was to drive on.

I'm definitely not confident on my backhand when it gets steep, so I dropped the back knee, grabbed my outside rail and leaned down on the nose to try and accelerate around the corner before that thing dumped on my head. But the wave was still lifting itself up on the bank and I had a long way to go before I was anywhere near a bottom turn. So I just held fast and hoped for a good outcome.

Because I'd thrown my weight forward and the wave face was now going beyond vertical I felt the fins break free and the tail started slipping and skipping about... This was where a facet of board design that I've always believed to be absolutely key really came into play - it was the rail that was now doing the bulk of the work keeping me and the board going across the face. If you need visual proof, watch Ben Thouard's beautiful underwater footage here. Clearly shows how important your rails are.

Luckily, despite the fins slipping out, the rail bit in and I managed to hold on until the wave caught up with itself and I made it out onto the face.

Beginning to really enjoy goin' left these days.

IN THEIR OWN TIME

The kids have always been beach babies - riding their first waves at the age of 4.

C 2004 ....

T 2004 ....

And we've all done maximum beach-time every summer since.

But despite [or maybe because of] me kind of pushing them both to paddle out the back they were only ever really interested in playing in the surf on their own terms; ie for fun!

Which, of-course is the way it should always be & ultimately I was totally happy with that. But a small part of me wondered if they would ever get 'into' surfing..

Over the next few years we all continued to hit the beach regularly; swimming, surfing, boogie-boarding etc and always having great fun. And T & C both found their own buzz - playing all kinds of sports and enjoying tons of activities with Tyde becoming a top 4X & MTB rider and Cealan playing rugby at County level.

T 2014 ....

Then at the beginning of this year as we kicked off with a run of perfect S Coast swell for a week over Xmas & New Year, Cealan suddenly found his groove in the water.

C 2016 .... (Photo - Rob P)

Now he's totally up for it - if there's any hint of a wave, he's there.

No need to rush, what will be will be.

VIEWPOINT

"Where the grass is always greener and the tubes are always deeper"

I sometimes wonder what it would be like to go for a surf and actually get barrelled. Utterly and totally tubed, thoroughly pitted, properly shacked, locked deep within the green room.

Watching some footage of Mick Fanning trotting across the sand at Snapper on a summer’s day bought this into sharp focus recently. The shore break and whitewater were heaving with beachgoers and swimmers whilst throaty aqua-green, headhigh barrels spun insanely past just a few metres away. Each perfect keg threaded by a gleeful boardshorted blur.

My own surfing experience is somewhat different.

Not that I don’t wholeheartedly enjoy surfing In Cornwall, I absolutely love it. I haven’t yet had a surf that didn’t bring a smile to my dial. But I can’t help daydream about how it must feel to come in after a surf buzzing from the memory of just having sliced through a couple of sweet tubes.

I try so hard not to succumb to surf envy, yet once again I imagine how amazing it must be to live with barrels on your doorstep and I even begin to question if what I’m doing can even be called ‘surfing’.

Anyway, later that evening I visit my friend Andy and we catch up over a cup of tea. Inevitably talk turns to the sea and a run of great swell we just had. Andy is a really good surfer with a lovely smooth style who hasn’t been out on his surfboard for over a year. Yet he has probably spent more time getting covered up than anyone I know. He told me of a deep tube ride he recently got at Aggie where he even had time inside the barrel to look up and watch the light refracting through the wave above his head before he got spat out cleanly at the end.

And that’s when it hit me. Andy has been getting so many tubes on his bellyboard and handplane that he hasn’t even bothered to wax up his board more than a handful of times in the last 3 years. And he’s a bloody good surfer who always gets what I consider really good waves whenever we’ve surfed together.

Of-course there are barrels in Cornwall - I’ve just been on the wrong equipment for riding ‘em.

CLOSER THAN YOU THINK

- - - -
I wrote this in July 2012 and posted it on 'The Inertia'.
Decided it was time to re-home it here on Kernowkalling.
- - - -

Surf Bathing at Perranporth c.1925 - courtesy: Francis Frith Collection

The other day I was having a leisurely chat with my neighbour – we had thoroughly dissected the local surf scene, discussed our fantasy boards (yet again) and bemoaned the recent weather as English people always do. The conversation then took a slight swerve when he asked if I’d done much surf travel.

Although by no means could I be considered an accomplished adventurer it turned out that compared to him I’d visited a lot more countries and surfed a few of the known hot spots around the world. He immediately asked where I thought the best place for surf was. It’s a good question and I imagine he was expecting me to rave about Indo or Fiji or Australia. But despite never having really given it much thought before, it took me only a moment or two to come up with an answer.

“Here.” I said, smiling when his laughter morphed into a look of bewilderment as he realized I actually wasn’t joking.

In fact, I’m quite serious when I say that the waves I get here in Cornwall are better than those I got in Indo or Fiji.

“What!” I can almost hear you cry, “How can surf in England ever be compared with Bali?” Hard to believe I know, but bear with me as there is a certain logic to my argument. Basically it all boils down to the numbers. I’ve surfed thousands of waves at home compared to the few dozen or so I scored on trips to Indo or the Canaries for example. As enjoyable & memorable as those trips were, the sheer volume of waves I ride at my local beaches tips the probability of scoring those occasional primo stand-out sessions heavily in favour of doing so right here at home.

From my house I can be in the water and paddling out within 20 minutes of noticing that the wind has suddenly dropped off. Such reasonably instant access combined with a little local knowledge has rewarded me with some of the best sessions I’ve ever had. Anywhere. OK, it may not be crystal-clear, overhead barrels in warm tropical waters, but compared to the few times when I was lucky enough to actually score waves like that – I’ve had countless other sessions that offered just as much stoke within a few miles of my front door… Glassy sunset surfs with just a friend and I swapping waves. Long peeling walls running for a hundred metres shared with dolphins and seals. Perfect turquoise peaks zippering across soft sand bars on a pushing tide. Big & bouncy, swooping faces that got the adrenalin well and truly fizzing. Classic windless dawnys with nobody else even on the beach, etc, etc. The list goes on and on.

Significantly I haven’t had to spend loads of cash or leave my family behind to trek half way around the world with no guarantee that there will be waves waiting for me at journeys end either. Plus, I’ve also been surprised so many times by seemingly borderline conditions turning out to be great sessions that I’ve learned to never discount those times as opportunities to score some fun either.

So, all things considered, maybe the notion that sometimes the best surf in the world is right on our own doorstep isn’t as far-fetched as it sounds.

I THINK WE SHARED A WAVE

- - - -
I wrote this in September 2012 and posted it on 'The Inertia'. Decided it was time to re-home it here on Kernowkalling.
- - - -

Sheep Dip, Gwithian c.1955 - courtesy: Francis Frith Collection

It was such a beautiful Saturday – another of those perfect September days that we seem to be blessed with every year after the tourists have all left and the kids have finished their summer break and are back in school.

We were up early and loading the van with boards and and an icebox full of grub. A quick coffee for me and some cereal for the kids and we headed straight for the beach. Roisin had a morning appointment, so would cycle to the coast and join us there after lunch.

By 9.30am I was clambering down the goat path following our twin 12yr olds and looking out at perfect, clean little waves spinning across the beach. We paddled out and joined a handful of other surfers picking off sparkling waves under the already warming sun with barely a puff of wind. It was truly blissful.

The kids were like happy seals, bobbing about in the waves and I paddled across to a right-hand peak that I knew usually started to turn on as the tide pushed up. Sure enough, luck was on my side, and the next set produced a zippy right that lifted me up before catapaulting me down the line. Even as I was racing across the smooth aqua face I was holding onto the moment, burning it into my memory, knowing that it was a gift of a wave on a near perfect Cornish morning.

It was afterwards, as I waded back in through the rockpools with my wetsuit peeled down to my waist, enjoying the sun on my back that I thought of him. Ray always loved this beach, he’d been a regular here for decades – one of the locals since the early 80s, always happy to chat between sets. I’d heard that they’d discovered a tumour at the beginning of the year and it was about as bad as it could be. The doctors had given him just a few months to live.

Why did I think of Ray on that particular morning? I hadn’t actually heard any news of him for a while. Perhaps, my subconscious was reminding me, as I was counting my own blessings to be out surfing with my children on such a beautiful day, that others were not so lucky. Maybe that’s why I’d thought of Ray, who in all probability would never surf this beach again. So right there and then I silently wrote his name upon the memory of the wave I’d enjoyed so much. It felt right. It felt like we’d shared that wave. I joined up with the children and we headed back to the van to scoff sandwiches and glug down some cold juice. Not long after Roisin arrived and soon we were all back in the water catching waves and enjoying the rest of the afternoon.

The next morning brought an altogether different day – Sunday dawned cloudy and damp with a gusty west wind that would have ripped the small surf to shreds – not a beach day at all. In the afternoon I got a phone call to say that Ray had passed away on Saturday morning at about 9.30am.

(Ray Tovey – RIP)

"NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT ONE!"

I went for an early one today. Couple of feet, clean, virtually no wind apart from a very light offshore. It was lovely.

A handful of old guys on mals (I guess that includes me) were taking turns on some nice lefts. I took off on a soft-ish one and a much older guy dropped in on me down the line.

It was fine though, a wave of no consequence, he apologised and I told him not to worry about it.

Over the next 20 minutes the waves got a little better, another foot or so in size and a bit steeper as they jacked up over the mid-tide banks.

I swung into a really nice left, a chest high drop with a smooth wall that stayed open as I came off the bottom.

But, lo and behold, my older friend had decided that he liked the look of this one too and dropped in a few yards ahead of me. It was kind of ok, he pulled down a bit of a section but the wave had enough juice in it to keep going and we managed a bit of a 'doubles' routine, cutting back and forth in front of each other as we cruised along to the shorebreak.

He was stoked; "Nothing wrong with that one!" he yelled at me as we paddled back out to the line up.

He was right there was nothing wrong with the wave. Apart from the fact that he'd dropped in on me, again... But, so what. We'd both had a good ride and shared a really nice wave, the lesson I learnt was that maybe sharing is caring, even when the choice is not your own.

Nothing wrong with that one, indeed.

SURFING LESSONS

Three things I learnt as a skateboarder from surfing in the olden days.

Lesson No 1: Surfing is primarily a solo activity - you're on your own buddy!

I remember when I first started surfing. At that time I'd already been skateboarding for a few years and it was natural to try and catch a few waves as well. A few of the skateboarders I knew were also good surfers and they let me borrow a board. But that was as far as it went - no advice offered, no coaching tips, no helping hand. I was given an old board and left to get on with it while they paddled out the back. 'Every man for himself' was obviously the surfer's code. I loved it of-course, who wouldn't? It was fun and exhilarating and totally different to anything I'd tried before.


Lesson No 2: The whole surf/skateboard symbiosis is a myth, they're connected in theory only.

I'd always read that surfing was the original source and skateboarding was the dry land equivalent for when the waves were flat. Well I must have been doing it all wrong, because it was certainly nothing like skateboarding, couldn't be more different in fact. The only relevance was that you were either regular or goofy. Aside from that you're operating in two very different worlds.


Lesson No 3: Surfing is a lot harder than it looks.

Skateboarding can be harsh & gnarly, but if you really want to learn it's relatively easy. Buy a board, find a smooth dry surface and away you go - quite literally. Within a few months you'll be okay at skateboarding. If you've got good balance and some natural ability there's no reason why you can't be ripping within a year or two if you've really caught the bug.

Learning to surf is a lot more complicated. For a start you'll inevitably be on the wrong board (it takes years of riding to even begin to understand which board suits you). You'll need the right waves and conditions for learning, but unfortunately waves don't appear on demand - so this will infinitely lengthen the learning curve. The sea is also deceptive, it moves and changes constantly, no two waves are ever the same, and sometimes it'll be scary and you'll be out of your comfort zone. There's a lot going on that you can't see, currents and tides need to be understood. It's exhausting work, you need fitness and stamina just to catch a few waves sometimes, and of-course you'll be competing with others for the same waves too. You'll also have to learn to 'read' the waves, which will take a ton of time and experience. The list goes on and on.. To summarise - it takes a long, long time to learn to surf.

ANDY GARNER INTERVIEW

Pic: Maria Cavalier

Andy Garner is amazing. He's been surfing for nearly 30 years and still retains the enthusiasm of a stoked grommet. He posesses a creative eye and a craftsmans hands, being an accomplished photographer, fine art painter and more recently the creator of fine handcrafted handplanes which he makes from his home in Cornwall.

These seemingly simple craft may appear humble in appearance, yet look a little deeper and you'll discover that these are quite possibly the best handplanes being made here in the UK currently, and with orders from folk in California, Australia and Hawaii who are now also enjoying the glide, they may well be some of the best internationally too.

The research and development that Andy puts into his products is quite phenomenal, hours and hours of water testing, refining and defining all providing direct feedback into the creation of his high quality watercraft.

He took a break from the workshop to answer some questions on skateboarding, surfing and the fun of handplaning.

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Andy where did you grow up.
I grew up in Cornwall, primarily Playing Place.

I know you were a skateboarder, what turned you onto skateboarding?
During the 70s there was a big influx of American TV programmes and products like American football shirts and suddenly skateboards appeared on the scene. So we all started making our own with roller skates stuck onto a board. At the time there was a housing boom and all these housing estates went up with perfectly smooth new tarmac roads which were fantastic for skateboarding and my Dad saw that I was into it and even made us a little driveway ramp too. I remember getting a combined birthday & Christmas present, I went into my room and can clearly remember the urethane smell of brand new blue Kryptonics and in another box a pair of blue and red Vans and they had a really distinctive smell too, the smell was so unique like going into a surf shop and smelling the sex wax - it was just fantastic!

Andy in the halfpipe at the Flamingo Skatepark with hand-painted hi-tops, late 70s.

Where did you used to skate in the early days?
In the early days we mainly skated in carparks. Hardy Carpets in Truro was a known spot, with loads of people doing slalom on Sunday mornings & Essjay turning up in his van with OJ wheels and California Slalom trucks for sale.

My Dad was keen to encourage me and the other kids and he actually pushed for the little skatepark in Playing Place. I’ve actually still got the original plans for how it was designed, those designs were changed unfortunately. There were trees that couldn’t be removed and it had to cater for other users including roller skaters which was big at the time too. The continuous wall that we wanted so you could carve all the way around the bowl had to go and the flat area was introduced too. But a lot of people put a lot of hard work into it and it was a good project and it’s still being used today.

Andy Garner with the original plans for the Playing Place bowl... at Playing Place.

Originally the 'skate board rink' had included a bowl with extended hip - click pic for enlargement.

ROB SMALL INTERVIEW

Rob Small grew up surfing the beachbreaks of Perranporth, the Badlands & Newquay and quickly developed from a hot local to a sponsored surfer, competing on the National and International pro circuits. Now with over 35 years of non-stop surfing under his belt he is still active as a sponsored surfer and SUP surfer and also runs Crantock Bay Surf School using his experience as an ISA surf and stand up paddle instructor and RSLS beach lifeguard. He kindly took the time between working long days at his surf school and SUP surf trips to the Canaries to answer a few questions about big waves, stunt doubling for Ewan McGregor and why maybe using a paddle could be considered punk!

Rob, where did you grow up?
Like a lot of us Cornish boys, I was born at Treliske in Truro and lived in Helston and St Agnes before my parents settled on Perranporth. Perran is really the place I grew up. There was a little pack of us running about causing mayhem and surfing. I was driving through Perran the other day and saw a little gang of surfy kids skating about and thought; "Nothing really changes does it?"

What got you into surfing originally?
My parents bought me a surfboard when I was very young, 7 or 8 years old. It was a 7’0” Graham Nile pintail single fin. Classic 70s board, brown with pin lines and a wooden fin with the old council insurance stickers on it. Like most of the older guys I wish I still had it today. The Surf Life Saving Clubs were going strong in those days and many of the local beach kids learnt to surf through them. We also learnt water safety and water knowledge. I’m not sure about sending kids out with a hundred metres of rope attached to a reel on the beach though... But they are great community clubs and invaluable for the youngsters. Of course as soon as the surfing started to become all encompassing the SLSC went out the window!

Do you remember your first green wave?
I don’t have a recollection of my first green wave but I do remember discovering cutbacks and getting under the lip for the first time. My first tube (ha ha, head dip) was at Perran Sands with Steve Cant and first cutback at Droskyn. Those lefts under the cliff are pretty good for figure eight cutbacks, they formed my entire surfing repertoire for a few years. When I first started surfing Aggie I didn’t have a clue what to do on the rights there, full pooh stance too. I get asked this question a lot by my clients and I’m not sure that they always believe I can’t remember learning the basics.

Was surfing Perran in the 70s & 80s very different to now?
It was really different, but then the sport itself was in a distinct phase. I remember the first thrusters that John Heath had in Piran Surf in ’81, after Simon Anderson won Bells, strange looking things. It could even have been ’82, things certainly didn’t move as fast as they do today. It was definitely friendlier, less crowded but on the downside the equipment was shit compared to that which is available today. I think that the generation that are in their 40s today matured as surfing matured as a sport, industry and lifestyle. It’s fun, traditional even, to give it the old ‘It was better back along’ to the younger surfers but I’m sure that there’s never been a better time to be a surfer than now. There are so many more possibilities within surfing than we ever dreamed of back in the 70s and 80s.

Rob, cranking off the bottom at La Santa Right.