Discovery: TSJ Has A Vimeo Channel!

Well after surfing and coaching 8 days in a row last week I got stuck behind in my intellectual output. Was cramming to get vids and session invoices to those that I coached and I didn’t have the 12-24 hours required to craft the blog posts that I have been churning out. It’s early Saturday morning and I’m gearing up to go surf, but I wanted to post something. I was thinking about finding and sharing Wayne Lynch footage, but when I started digging a little I realized that that requires a larger post. He’s an important figure in surfing and has some pretty strong views worth giving a more concerted dig into. In search for clips of Wayne, however, I discovered something else: The Surfers Journal has a Vimeo Channel! It is filled with tons of new and archival surfing footage like this competition in Western Australia. I cannot link any of their videos here due to privacy policies, but if you’re looking for inspiration and surfing cultural history in the form of 3-20 minute surf vids, I suggest you head over there before or after your next surf or at-home visualization session and click on anything. The further down you scroll, the better and better the content gets. Like this video Spyder Wills took of Gerry Lopez and Rory Russell at Uluwatu in the 1970s, which starts off with a perfect image of how to paddle a shortboard followed by 7 minutes of perfect trim and tube time.

Many people that I have been working with both at the beach and virtually need as much good surfing content as they can lay their eyes on in order to see what good form looks like. Where are their hands placed? What about their eyes? How do they crouch to get into the tube? What is their stance like when trimming? Sure you can take your surfing by feel, but that won’t account for an effective approach unless you’re some kind of savant like Lynch. Most humans need exemplars to mimic if they are to learn any grammar proficiently, and this channel is full of that, so get over there and start studying!

Pandemic Surf Diary Entry: May 16 -- Phenomenology of a Self-Coaching Breakthrough

On Saturday May 16th I had a personal breakthrough in my surfing. I had not surfed for 12 days. I spent those days writing, doing yoga, administering virtual consults over Zoom, brainstorming, walking my dog, and cooking. In preparation for our May 14 Zoom lesson, I had assigned my student, young Max, to watch Loaded by Dane Reynolds (2014) on YouTube. We spent most of the meeting on board design and did not get to really dig into the video together, but I had the link saved in a tab for watching down the road. I accidentally scrolled over that tab when doing something else and it cut to the video, which somehow had been playing for a few minutes. I paused it in the middle of precise Taylor Knox cutback, did a double take, and decided that I ought to watch the whole thing.

First, however, I re-read my blog post about the pumping surf on May 2 and paid special attention to the sequence Guy Barash shot of me dropping into that gorgeous wave. In the first slide my hands are up in the air. Then I connect with my board, lean on the rail, and sneak into and out of the tube. I was looking at my arms, and asking myself, “Is it normal for a good surfer to do that from time to time? Why are my arms up there and does it have to be that way?” I also ruminated on what my anxiety state is as I enter into waves like that or as I enter into tubing surf. I still get scared. I have that upper stomach fear tickle, which is obviously related to a deep seated fear of death, failure, and injury/suffering. I’m still going to override it, but it’s there causing me to hesitate in tiny ways. The slightest hesitation — can I really stand up under the lip? what if I pearl and ruin the whole wave? — may cause me to get ever so slightly hung up, thus making me air drop down the wave rather than simply tucking up under the hood from the get go. I am aware of this tickle in my upper stomach and the feeling of mixed excitation and dread as a heaving tube beast is headed my way. The anxiety is also a result social and cultural positioning: I want to be a stylish surfer who goes fast with little extra movement. I don’t want to look like one of those people who are riding a board that is too small for them, making jerky motions and bogging rail because they are not distributing speed properly. With this kind of surfing as a negative example, I can err on the too conservative side and not throw caution to the wind. My next move was to watch Loaded with an eye to these thoughts.

Loaded is loaded with great surfing by Dane Reynolds, Nat Young, Noa Deane, Taylor Knox, Andrew Doheny, and Craig Anderson (I could be missing one or two others, but this is the main cast). It is filmed in CA, Indonesia, Japan, and Mexico (and again maybe some other places, but they’re not exactly listed). It is a highly consumable length: 20 min. The music and visuals are pleasing. There is not much gender or race equity in terms of the talent presented, but at least Dane omits the formulaic and passe “woman as object” shots that unfortunately are still common in surf content. His touristic shots are also tasteful. One does not get the dirty, exploitative, colonialist feeling that many surf travel films evoke (Taylor Steele’s are particularly bad for this). 

My goal in watching Loaded was to study the drops, paying particular attention to the hands, and to take other notes from the surfing to apply to my own surfing. Here are my takeaways: 

Their arms very infrequently come up above their heads when they drop into waves of any size. Regardless of whether they’re dropping in early or late they keep the hands down at their sides — just lower generally with variations on position — through the drop. This helps cement their feet on their boards and places weight on the rail and fins immediately to lock the board into the face of the wave, allowing them control of what they decide to do vis a vis what the wave is telling them is possible. It is especially helpful for tucking into tubes off the drop frontside. Backside this is less of a problem because one is normally taking off with some kind of rail grab in mind if it’s a tubing wave. But still, one can apply this idea to backside drops as well.

I was reminded that it is important to pull into closeout tubes. Yes, it’s great to make tubes, but it’s spectacular and fun to watch someone pull into a closeout. You get a really nice view, the wipeout isn’t so bad because you just get ejected out the back of the wave, and it’s entertaining for the whole lineup.

Craig Anderson drops in to a good size wave with hands in lower position.

This allows him to stay compressed to the board and set his rail sooner.

I noticed that arms go up in the air on their big air maneuvers. Or any time there is air under the board and it’s threatening to drop out from under you, the arms of a human go up, as the feet reach to grab onto the board for control. As gravity brings you down, you settle in and connect back with the board, absorbing the impact with knees and ankles, then doing whatever comes next whether it’s a bottom turn into the next maneuver or just stalling to kickout.

Noa Deane hands up for the air!

The Taylor Knox footage of technical surfing in sizeable Lowers is awesome. His rail surfing is so precise. Riding a thruster allows one to push hard through a long bottom turn with no risk of sliding at the bottom. Most all of them are riding thrusters or three fin set ups. 

There are two minutes they show Taylor Knox trying airs. He can get up there but can’t land. It’s humbling especially for me who also suffers from something similar. And to be honest my attempts are not even as good as Knox’s. It makes sense to try this stuff out and figure out the techniques and limits. Some of us are not innately air surfers, but we may pull the off one over time. It takes a lot of willingness to wipe out to get it right.

Taylor Knox precision and aggression on the rail riding a thruster at Lower Trestles.

I enjoyed watching how aggressive Dane, Taylor, Craig, et. al. are with their turns. I made a vow to be more aggressive in mine. I had also studied an instagram post by Ace Buchan of a roundhouse cutback with a vertical backside hit. I have always struggled to get the board up to the lip vertically on the rebound. My right (front) shoulder is really tight so it’s hard for me to open up sometimes. It was a goal for me in addition to being more aggressive to get that nose up there. I also wanted to focus on not focusing on not falling. Go hard and fall if that’s what happens.

Pro surfers get burned by oblivious kooks too. Me, I would not think twice about going on a wave Dane Reynolds or Taylor Knox are already up and riding, but then I know to look back to the peak before taking off. If someone is coming down the line, and even more so if that someone is a super fast, precise, and exciting surfer to watch, then I’m backing out immediately. While it is always frustrating to be burned, it’s great to see that we all go through it, and I love that Dane keeps it in the vids. 

Dane Reynolds getting burned by an oblivious surfer. Dane’s body language says everything here.

With all of these things in mind, but especially with the notion to keep my hands down when dropping in on tubing ones, I went surfing. The waves were quite good. I paddled out at 630a. I decided on the jetty  where the waves looked more vertical, which was less crowded, and there were a variety of take off points should crowds descend. Slow paddle out. I did not bring the Go Pro for my first session. I wasn’t wearing gloves — it was fine! I wore the hooded Isurus 3mm suit with 7mm Xcel boots, and was riding the 5’4” Lost RNF I just picked up from ding repair. I chose to ride it with twin keels rather than a quad. I want to say that it was as soon as my first wave I put my intention into action: under the lip, go full confidence, keep hands down. Tube. Then tube. Then tube. I was taking off deeper than I normally do and had a lot higher make ratio than normal. Granted, these waves were only head high, and I’ll have to try this strategy out when I’m a little more scared. But still, there were some that I would have gotten hung up on before that I was making just fine. My mind was a little blown. 

I was turning more aggressively. I fell back on some fin wafts on the end section, but I did my damnedest to push hard. I was still suffering from some residual stiffness in my right hip (yoga is helping), so I had to take back some parts of my aggressivity vow on certain turns. Also I realized that the twin fin was not going to allow quite the same torque as a standard thruster would. I found myself desiring a “normal” shortboard with three fins for the hold and pivot that back fin provides, and actually texted Charles Mencel after my first session and got him to start shaping me one. 

I went in from my first session at 8:05a after about I don’t know 10-20 tubes, and no hands up in the air take offs. I ate two pieces of apple cake and finished my coffee. I also drank water and took two Advil for my hip. I geared up the Go Pro in preparation for my next session coaching Zac. I was satisfied by my first surf so I vowed to be mostly focused on Zac and just go for sets that came right to me. It just so happened that I got into a rhythm. Zac had a great surf for not having surfed since December. He’s a trooper. We kept fighting the rip as it took people down the beach and this kept carving out a place in the lineup we could sit alone. He had more patience than he normally does, but was noticeably getting winded from his dormant surfing muscles being newly activated. I got at least 5 or 6 more tubes and did some turns that felt fantastic, hooking one cutback rebound wonderfully with nose up at the white water. I also pulled into a closeout tube intentionally. Feels great to nail more than one goal in a session!

Zac and I surfed until about 10:40a. Then I came in, changed, and sat in my van eating a tuna fish sandwich and drinking water. An old man walked past me — my van door was open — towards the beach and then he quickly went back the other way. Then he comes back again, this time wearing a blue surgical mask. He sees me and says, “I forgot my mask. You have to wear a mask. You can’t forget it. My doctor didn’t wear his mask and now he’s dead.” This is truly surfing in Corona times. I felt self conscious that I wasn’t wearing mine, so just after he walked off I shut my van door and continued to eat my sandwich. A large man wearing his mask around his neck, i.e., not really wearing his mask, passed by my window and coughed. I had shut the door just in time.

Liz showed up at 10:45. I spent some time on the beach with my mask, sun hat, and camera and talked to Liz about the lineup. Zac paddled back out and I got a little bit of video and some stills. Time to head back out. I was done ripping shredding, so I brought my 6’7” Kidman. The waves were petering out for it to be fun for me, but still too big for it to be manageable for Liz. She managed one at the end of her session, and we made the call to just keep getting her the water to get her paddling muscles back in gear. 

Masked at the beach in NY.

This experience shows me in my own surfing is that most of the great achievements accomplished in the water were prepared for on land. There is seriously no amount of visualization and learning on land that can possibly be enough. Part of everyone’s froth to get in the water as the sole place to figure it out is slightly misguided. It is an incomplete notion of what surfing is and what constitutes learning to surf and becoming a proficient surfer. This is why I’m trying to push all of my clients and future-clients, and urging you dear reader, to carve out some time to study surfing when they are not surfing. Improving your land game is an essential part of improving your water game. There is no way around it. 2-4 hours in the water per week ain’t gonna cut it. If you add 2-4 hours of studying surfing at home to the 2-4 that you spend in the water, you will see results. Double the hours for both and you’ll get even more bang for your buck. Simply put, in order to become masterful at surfing you have to study surfing. There are infinity ways I can vary my experience and tweaks I can make to improve, whether its in equipment, technique, or attitude. Surfing is like a calculus that involves all multiple variables in a variety of dimensions. It’s a quantum calculus. 

In closing I want to draw your attention to the Vimeo I made linked above to announce that I have figured out how to do voiceovers! This is another huge breakthrough that should help everyone who follows me and works with me personally. Expect voiceovers on most videos that I drop in the future.

CSC Profile: Kevin Roberts

Coming at you with another CSC profile! This month it’s Kevin Roberts. Kev started working with us in January 2019 and has come miles in his surfing since then. Instead of writing more, I’ll just cut to the interview and let Kevin tell you his surfing story in his own words.

D: Where are you from? What was growing up there like? 

K: I spent my early years in Queens, NY. My family moved to Wantagh, on the south shore of LI when I was about 8. I didn’t think so at the time, but Wantagh was a pretty rad place to grow up. It is on the bay so I was able to ride my bike to go fishing and swimming during the summer. It’s also about a 7 minute drive to Jones beach. My dad got me into fishing at a really young age, so I developed a relationship with the ocean early on. 

D: What do you do for a living? How is your schedule for surfing? 

K: I‘m currently employed by NYC Department of Sanitation as a stationary engineer. I’ve worked all sorts of weird shifts. Now, they have me on a 6am-2pm schedule. I miss out on dawn patrol during the week, but if conditions are right, after work sessions are what it’s all about. I find the crowds to generally be thin at that time as well. Oh, and weekend dawn patrol too since I’m so used to waking up at 430 am. No one else likes to get up early on their days off. 

Showing Kevin how to lean into right hip to go down the line in prone position before our second session in NJ, January 2019.

D: How long have you been surfing? Why did you get into it?

K: I’ve been surfing for about 3 years. Growing up not too far from the beach, I had some friends that surfed. I always had an interest but it wasn't until later in life that I decided to finally try. I was taught to ski at a pretty young age, which eventually transitioned to snowboarding. Surf and snow culture are very similar. Without surfing, there is no snowboarding. I think that is what really drew me to it. 

D: What lead you to CSC/how did you find out about me/us? 

K: So when I first started learning to surf I had been taking lessons with a traditional “push you into a wave” surf school. I had moved to Rockaway with my then girlfriend to be closer to the ocean. Even though we were living at the beach, my surfing was not progressing at all. I really didn’t want to be pushed into waves and I found myself becoming continually frustrated. I had read a New York Times article that Conatus was featured in, and decided to do a little bit of Instagram stalking. The content that you were posting really stood out to me, and I decided to eventually reach out. 

D: What were some of the big surprises you had when you first started working with me? 

K: I was surprised by a few things really. You were able to recognize what I was doing wrong on the most basic level and were able to effectively communicate how to fix those problems. Also, I realized quickly that this was much more than just a surf lesson. It was like full on immersion into a new language. 

D: What has surfing progress been like for you? What are some things that came easier for you to apply more quickly and what are some that you're still struggling with?

Kev in the front, me behind, January 2019.

K: Since I’ve been surfing with you, I’ve had good sessions and bad sessions but progress has definitely been on an incline. I feel that reading the ocean has come a bit easier to me. Which wave is a right, left, avoiding closeouts, etc. As far as struggles go, the best example I can think of is my tendency to pop up into a parallel stance. It's earned me the nickname “the frog prince”, as I look like a frog riding a surfboard. The frog prince is almost dead, but on the occasional NJ right he will make an appearance. As a goofy foot surfer, I still have less confidence going right.  

D: What have you been doing during this whole Corona Virus outbreak? Where was your last session? How have you been coping with less surfing? 

K: As an essential employee, I am still going into work everyday, fully clad in PPE. We’ve been staying with family in NJ as our Brooklyn apartment is the size of a walk-in closet and we have a large, drooling dog. My last session was in Asbury Park, NJ. Not surfing as much has been difficult. I am totally prone to aggravation and feeling generally down when I’m not surfing as often as I'd like. I've been able to supplement not surfing with fly fishing locally and tying flies. It helps with the mental health aspect. I continue to check surf reports, buoy data, and winds, everyday. I do this even if I know that I cant surf. Watching an old surf flick here and there and reading surf books helps as well. I have old Surfers Journal mags that I love flipping through. I recently revisited all of our session videos from the beginning. That was interesting to say the least. 

D: What's your plan for when we ease up on lockdown? How do you see yourself transitioning back to more surfing? 

K: Ideally, I’d like to be able to travel a bit farther again once things start to ease up. My honeymoon to Hawaii was cancelled due to the pandemic so I'm definitely chomping at the bit. I’d love to get back up to New England. However, I think the responsible thing to do for a while is to just stay local. Get more time in the water as close as possible to home. I think easing into surfing home breaks more often is the best course of action. 

D: Tell us about your quiver. What size of boards do you have and what kinds of waves you plan to surf them on?

K: I am currently surfing 3 boards.  A 7’8” CSC/ Barahona, an 8’6” CSC/ Barahona, and a 9’4” Harbour log. I surf the 7'8” on days where there's a bit more size or energy in the water. It's also better for sticking drops on steeper waves. My 8'6” is my go to board on most days. Plenty of float for weaker wind swell which is the norm here at home. I really love that board. My 9'4” is my summer wave board, perfect for small mushy waves. I think that board would really shine at a long point break. 

Kev’s quiver from left to right: 9’4” Harbour, 8’6” CSC x Barahona, 7’8” CSC x Barahona.

D: What are some of your goals for your surfing?

K: My main goal is to just surf confidently with style and grace. To surf with respect for the ocean and fellow surfers. I think that’s what drew me to CSC in the first place. I think better forecasting is important too, I am going to make it a point to attend the next zoom class. Making it out of a tube one day would be pretty great as well. 

D: Favorite memories of waves you've ridden or aha moments in your surfing?

K: There have been quite a few over the passed year and a half or so. Two that stand out are from our CSC retreat last year in Costa Rica. I think it was day three at about 5am, and on the drive to the beach you were describing to me how I need to take more time during my pop ups. Up until that point, I had been rushing to get to my feet. For some reason it just clicked for me that morning, and my pop up drastically improved. A few days later, I pulled into a few closeout barrels at Dominical. Even though they were closeouts, I’ll never forget the view. 

Said Dominical closeouts. We could have surfed an easier wave this morning, but we knew Kev was game for some of his first tube visions.

D: Any tips for people starting out or plateauing in their practice? 

K: I think fear is a huge factor that can hold us back. The ocean is so powerful and dynamic. I think it’s super important to safely push yourself. We all take an ass beating out there sometimes. Taking a few waves on the head makes you realize that you aren’t made of glass.  Also, surf on days when conditions aren’t ideal. Struggling in shitty conditions will make the perfect days easier. 

D: Love it. Favorite surf movies or websites?

K: Oh man, some that pop out in my mind are Morning of the Earth, The Endless Summer, North of Nowhere, Under an Arctic Sky, Psychic Migrations. The new Pilgrim film Self Discovery for Social Survival is really good too — I love the music. For websites I like Matt Warshaw's Encyclopedia of Surfing, NOAA, windy.com, and Surfline. 

D: What does an ideal surf day post pandemic look like for you? Do you go out to eat after your session or are you still going to be cautious and bring snacks, etc?

K: I'm thinking maybe a clean sleeper session in Long Beach, so much better than the hyped up days where everyone shows up. I'll bring my own coffee but a much needed stop at Dough Hut after is in order!

D: Yes! Can’t beat the Dough Hut! Thanks Kevin!

See below for some of Kevin’s session vids including the full length edit from Costa Rica. If you want to see more vids of any CSCer just type their name into the search mechanism on our Vimeo Channel.

Pandemic Surf Diary Entry: May 2nd

Depeche Mode was on the money when they wrote the song ‘Blasphemous Rumours’, the chorus of which goes, “I don’t want to start any blasphemous rumours, but I think that God’s got a sick sense of humour, and when I die I expect to find him laughing.” God or Nature’s sick sense of humor is playing out right now as the onset of the pandemic has coincided with some of the best surf NY has ever seen this time of year. And while the surfing state of CA bars many surfers from doing what they most love, the least likely state and the epicenter of the outbreak, lets its people go surfing. There are some mysteries we will never be able to penetrate.

I saw this swell come up on the buoys while doing a private surf forecasting session with Nate Hageman on Thursday, April 30th. We looked at a bunch of wind models and none of them agreed with one another. Friday, May 1, looked to be the biggest day of the swell, and I saw on some charts that it would even be light offshore from the NE in the morning, turning light SW through the middle of the day, and then swinging WNW by sundown. Saturday, May 2nd had all the makings of an epic day — plenty of left over swell and favorable offshore winds. I knew I was surfing Saturday, but wanted to see if maybe I might find something under the radar on Friday. I figured most people would target the Friday evening session, so I opted for the morning. I arrived at 7a and it was indeed light offshore, but the surf was raw and stormy and honestly it looked quite scary. I saw a few tubes and knew deep down that I have the ability and equipment to get out there and find a few, but not a soul was around, and I felt off about it. The risk-reward math was not computing. I hung out in the van, ate some muesli and yogurt, did some emails, and kept popping out to check and see if it had magically cleaned up. Evan arrived around 10a after the tide started coming in. I decided to give it a go around 11a. Paddled out. Realized my board was too small and the rip was insanely heavy. Caught one wave. Went in. Not feeling it. Watched a few guys out around 1230p getting yanked down the beach. I decided to save myself for Saturday and left around 1p.

May 1 — the day before — was raw and unruly. Pic: Dion Mattison

On Saturday I arrived at 515a and checked my old reliable which has seen an uptick in human traffic since the onset of the pandemic. It looked about head high to a few feet over head and focused on the middle of the beach with A-frame teepee sets coming through every 2-4 minutes or so. The Long Island Buoy was reading 8ft @ 12 seconds from the SSE — still TONS of swell leftover from day before — more than expected and definitely way more than Surfline was calling — this swell looked to be outperforming the forecast. For this reason I texted everyone I had planned to coach that day and called off coaching. I have learned plenty now that I cannot concentrate on students when it’s 6-8ft and throttling. I think it’s good for them to come out to the beach and watch — even in some cases paddle out and look into tubes from the shoulder — but in terms of really giving the proper attention required I cannot do it. I move too much and too quickly when the conditions are heavy — always trying to optimally position myself to be as steep and deep as I can possibly be. I can coach in somewhat challenging conditions, but it has to be within reason for the person’s ability level and my ability to both focus on filling my wave bank and theirs. I also do not want to put people in dangerous situations where they might get hurt or hurt others. This is simply irresponsible. I hold to my line that if you cannot “dominate” in 2-3 foot surf, then it’s probably better to sit out the 6-8 foot days. By this I do not mean don’t go to the beach. Do go. But instead of throwing yourself into the melee spend time reading the waves and lineup. Figure out who’s succeeding and who’s not and why. Try to anticipate what waves will do and notice things like how a certain (good) surfer positions him or herself to make the most of them. Next big swell I will make more clear instructions for how to watch, where to watch from, and what to watch for. There is a lot to learn on these days, especially by watching me navigate the lineup, so I want to provide “free clinics” for people to be able to do that. In lieu of not having done that, I’m writing this blog post, so you can have an insight into my thought process and experience — this is a form of phenomenology.

First light on May 2nd. Pic: Dion Mattison

At first light there was one guy out and he was going right, so it was basically empty. I checked one other spot to compare — too many closeouts and smaller — and turned right around, went back to old faithful, and suited up in the van. First kit was the Ripcurl Heat Seeker 3/2, 7mm Xcel round toe boots, 7mm Ripcurl mittens, and a 3mm pull over Xcel hood. Idea: warm but flexible. I chose to ride my 6’6” Mencel 4-channel twin-pin. Even though the surf didn’t look too big I saw that there was a lot of water moving about, and that there were some tubes to be had if you could get in deep and early enough, which for me is easier when I have extra foam under my chest. I learned this lesson well from living 10 years at Ocean Beach in San Francisco — there is usually so much water moving out there that you’re always better off with a little extra foam.

The Mencel board feels incredible under my arm. Perfect amount of weight — not too light — for pushing me down and through the cresting lip in offshore conditions with waves that pull water vertically up off a shallow bottom and thus suck up and pitch out quickly. If we are talking about the theme of access, one does learn over time what kind of equipment best enables one to access different wave-riding situations. This of course, like everything else in surfing, depends on many variables — weight, fitness, confidence, wingspan, aesthetic proclivities, etc.

The paddle out was a piece of cake. I think maybe one duck dive did the trick. Then I caught a small one off the jetty to help move me to the middle of the beach. It was still pre-sunrise so the wave had a purplish hue on it. Then I caught one in the middle — a shallow tube. My third wave was one of the best I had all day. I was behind the peak when I took off and knew that it was going to fold over me nicely. The wave almost looked like a closeout. The lip started pitching out far in front of me — the face was vertical and round — I had a slight fear that I would be lit up inside, but I remember saying to myself, “No Dion, this is one of those ones you see the pros get, you are in a perfect position” — I held onto the face, dropped my butt towards my heel, and let the lip throw over and encapsulate me. One, two, three, four, it stayed open and I came shooting out. Joy. Soon after that I was joined by 2-4 other surfers. One was Nick Langelotti, a physical therapist who I have coached before. Nick has been on it recently. He’s been riding a 6’9” Campbell Brothers bonzer. He was on a 5’10” fish a lot when we first started working together, but I convinced him to use more foam for ease of entry and for down the line flow. It’s definitely working for him. Saw him make some gorgeous drops and cruise down the line smoothly. He said he saw my two first tubes as he was running down the beach. Always nice to get a bit of acknowledgement and confirmation! Shortly after Nick paddled out I took off on a bigger set and air dropped down the face. I thought for sure I was going to crash but somehow that 6’6” Mencel held on for me. I was relieved. I don’t mind wiping out, but I’d prefer not to if I can avoid it.

Setting up a section during the first session. Pic: Guy Barash

As the morning grinded on it became ever more crowded, but I was in such a rhythm with the ocean that it really did not affect me too much. I would catch a wave and get caught on the inside and while I was in there I would pay attention to the unridden waves that were crashing on my head — trying to understand how they came in and what they looked like so that when I made it back out I could pick the most barreling ones that were slipping under people’s noses. I saw a lot of people take off on the more obvious waves that were easier to make, but these did not offer a tube. Alternatively I saw others sending it on tubing waves but they were just out of position or on the wrong equipment — a lot of people riding boards a little too small — or they dropped down the wave and did not cut in mid face to get under the lip in time. In surfing culture we fondly refer to this as “barrel dodging”. We all do it from time to time out of fear or ignorance or because the wave does some funky thing and will not let us set the right line to duck under the lip. In fast, down the line tubes, it is important not to go too far down to the bottom of the wave because it could race off without you inside of it. I was having thoughts like these while duck diving or running up the beach — intensely trying to see the waves that offered the most room inside of them and that were going uncontested. In the water I was looking for the wave to stretch out and almost look like a closeout. I didn’t want to see a steep taper because that would mean there was no barrel on offer. The waves I wanted were also not set waves, nor were they inside waves. They were medium waves that were a little inside, hitting the shallowest part of the sand bar. I learned that I wanted these kinds of waves by watching surf contests and surf videos in the 1990s and 00s. Taj Burrow was a surfer that I always noticed was on these medium sized throaty waves, so after watching some of his videos I learned where to sit and what to go for.

One of the most memorable waves of my first session was a medium one that started to break about 20 feet inside of the pack. I took off deep, slid under the lip and leaned back — thinking of a tube move Juan Heredia does — to lengthen my time inside. It rifled across the inside with me inside of it. I came out clean near the jetty and two dudes were clapping for me. My smile must have been almost splitting my ears apart. I had a few more like this — not quite as deep — and a few that I made it inside but did not emerge from the end. Around 830a I noticed that I felt parched and a little sore. It was getting ever more crowded. I caught one more wave — sequence below — and went in to hydrate, fuel, and warm up.

Sequence of my last wave from drop to tube to turn. Believe it or not this was one of my shallower tubes of the day. I’ll take it. Decided to go w/out Go Pro just cuz. Had regrets until I saw this guy on the beach with the camera. Got his digits from 10 ft away between sessions. Thanks Guy! Pics: Guy Barash

The van has been a game changer in the life of CSC and is even more so during Covid-19. I can go inside there, away from the world, and I can stand fully up, change in and out of my wetsuits, check my texts and emails, get my fold out table and make food and even edit footage. I always have a rechargeable battery with a 12 hour life for all the electronics, and 6 gallons of water for rinsing the suits and staying hydrated. On this day because I saw the potential for lots of surfing I made sure to bring a ton of food. As my last post and newsletters attest, Sophia and I have been cooking up a storm at home. On this day I had brought lemon pudding cake, beans and rice with roasted squash, and a few slices of homemade olive bread with a small tub of butter. I keep a bin of silverware and camping dishes under the passenger seat.

When I went in after my first session the intention was to just refuel and paddle back out, but as soon as I got in I felt a cold chill in my body and knew that I was so depleted that I needed to change into dry clothing, and so I did. Then I drank at least 4 cups of water. I figured that it was best to do the sugariest food first, and since I still had coffee left over from my morning drive, I went with coffee and lemon pudding for breakfast. It was highly caloric and light at the same time. The lemon zinged my tastebuds, the sugar and caffeine pulsed through my veins — after getting tubed all morning this was exponential aesthetic pleasure.

When I was warm enough I went up to the boardwalk and took some photos with my Sony Alpha and watched the lineup. The first spot I was surfing had gotten chaotic — there were at least 30 people out. The waves were really consistent and there seemed to be a decent flow, but I noticed that the one next door was empty. There was what looked like a rip going through the lineup, however, underneath the rip these freight train tubes were coming through with no one on them. A few people were trying their hand but getting sucked down the beach or thrown over the falls. I did not see a successful ride, but I saw the potential for them. Soon after I made this judgment the lineup cleared out. I decided, “That’s it, I’m going out there. I can get into those waves and I’ll sit under that rip. I’ll take my time suiting up and paddling out.” And so I went back to the van, drank a lot more water, and slowly put on my second kit: a 4/3 Rip Curl Dawn Patrol, Xcel PolyPro hooded vest, 7mm Ripcurl boots, and 7mm Ripcurl mittens. Still opted for the 6’6” Mencel. It had not gotten less intense, and with the tide now pushing in I expected there would be some macking sets.

An empty slab rolls through the jetty next door while something that looks like a Corona Virus memorial occurs in the foreground. This picture epitomizes the heaviness of our current reality. Sequence: Dion Mattison

I had planned to Go Pro this session, and I brought it down with me, but when I got to the water I realized that I had a dead battery in it. Fail. Oh well. I left it on my towel with my little Pelican Case I inherited from my grandfather (he used it for fishing weights), and paddled out. I saw a rip in the middle of the first beach that I used for an easy entry. I caught one wave there that skipped me down to the second jetty where I had set my sights. No one was out now. I was pinching myself — just me all alone with heaving tubes! A lot of the gnarliest ones had rip in them and were all but impossible to enter through the lip line without getting tossed. I knew to look for sets that came when the water was clean. Rips at beach breaks tend to come in waves. They run out in one spot and then move laterally down the beach. You have to stay clear of them and not get caught in them because waves are never good when you’re in that turbulent water. Plus there is usually too much water pulling out to be able to get in. And if you get caught in them you’re going out to sea beyond the area where you can find a wave. It took a little while for me to figure out my position. Then a set lurched up with a big blue, clean face. I thought immediately before taking off, “This one looks like it has a tube on it.” I took off at an angle, got to my feet and immediately it started to jack up and pitch. I pushed hard on my toes and then tucked my butt under me. I was way back in there — the hole was far out in front of me — I pushed on my toes again to stay in the middle, then I adjusted my front shoulder so the lip wouldn’t hit it, then I pushed a little again to keep the higher line, still traveling, then somewhere in the middle of the beach it opened and and let me out. I could hear cheers and hoots on the beach. I waved at whomever was rooting for me — I can’t see that far without my glasses! The inside of that tube was very green, almost emerald in color. I remember liking how my red board looked against it and feeling proud that I had made those adjustments to navigate it successfully. Sometimes if you don’t adjust in the tube you get clipped. Even with a perfect entry some waves require that you make small movements to reset your line so that you don’t get too low or pulled back and get eaten by the foam ball or lip. After that one I did a run around, and this time paddled back out on the near side of the jetty I was surfing. Easy! As my session went on I figured out the rip even better. I found that on the inside of it, there was a counter rip that was helping me get closer to the peak. The foam on the 6’6” is so well distributed that I didn’t feel a great stress on my arms to stay in position. Furthermore I had also figured out that I didn’t have to sit at the jetty the whole time. There were also some incredible waves coming in the middle of the beach with no rip in them at all. Almost every wave had some sort of tube on it — shallow ones, deep ones, doggy door ones, just too fast ones, and perfect long ones that allowed me to stay in the pocket the whole time. I knew I would soon lure people out there. I was right. By about noon there were 6-10 others out there with me, but everyone was in good cheer and the lineup flowed well. Around 12:45p, after one particularly long tube across the beach, I called it quits.

Back to the van with no socializing on the beach. Got changed and rinsed my salty kits in my surf bucket. Gulped down at least 4-6 cups of water then dug into the rice, beans, and squash. I was going to head home at that point but it was such a warm and beautiful day that I decided it might be wise to just check one more spot. The clients I had cancelled on might be surfing there, and I wanted to see how they were doing. We were in communication during my breaks, and I was helping them try to navigate the best surf window for them. It simply was a rough day for anyone newer to surfing.

I drove to this other spot, parked, and went up and checked the surf. I saw Brant out there sitting a little too far outside to get the good ones. The waves looked great. It was a little smaller than where I was previously, but not too much smaller. The waves were hitting the inside bar incredibly well. There were tubes and turn sections. I was feeling rejuvenated after eating the rice and beans and knew that I could not drive away from such fun looking waves. I was also excited about the prospect of getting to ride my 5’7” and doing some turns after my very tube-focused morning.

Too good not to paddle. Pic: Dion Mattison

This session I had to decide between a hooded 5/4 and a hooded 3mm. It was too hot inside the van to change into a 5/4 so I went with the hooded 3mm Isurus, 7mm booties, and no gloves at all. This time of year it is important to experiment with shedding layers to see what you can handle. There was that burning tingle when I hit the water, but it didn’t hurt as bad as two weeks ago. And my gosh were the waves fun. It was 3-4 feet and just as rippable as I it seemed from the surf check, with a few more barrels than that I had expected as well. I wore the Go Pro this session, figuring that I might as well get some evidence of the awesome surf this day.

I paddled out at 2p. In addition to Brant, I saw Nate Hageman in the water. Nate and I had scheduled a 1230p coaching session for that day, which I called off earlier. I saw that Nate was not positioning optimally and asked him if he was game for a half session and I’d give him some tips. He thumbs upped for this. I had Nate sit a little further inside than he was comfortable to look for the running lefts that seemed to come right to me. Soon enough Nate locked into a few scorchers, almost getting tubed on one of them as he passed by my Go Pro and nailing a great shot in the process. Nate has had an in-rhythm coaching package with me — every time he schedules a session the waves are generally firing and specifically firing for the particular things he needs to work on in his surfing.

Nate on a scorcher! Pic: Dion Mattison

Around 4p the wave machine slowed down a little — it was still pumping by most measures — and my hands started to chill. I was exhausted and finally ready to go in. The wind was still offshore from the NW despite reports and even threats of it coming up hard out of the WNW and then W. As with the day before, the reports were not accurate and disagreed on all of my trusty models. I think that the thing I learned about how the weather reports will continue to become less accurate so long as commercial air traffic remains virtually non existent, is really starting to ring true. The wind reports turned out to be off the next day and the day after that as well — I’ll have to say more about this in the newsletter or at a later date, but it’s really weird and makes confidence about scheduling really tough.

I was so tired when I got in that I was relieved I choose the lighter suit and no gloves. Two less things to worry about in the final stretch of the surfing drama. With boards and suits packed in the van, I gulped down more water, then took out the bread and butter. Most of the butter had melted so I just dipped fresh bread chunks in it as I drove through the Rockaways and onto the Cross Bay Bridge. The sun was shining on my face as I replayed tubes in my head.

PANDEMIC SURFING UPDATES AND THOUGHTS

There is a lot to unpack here. I have been surfing and have been pretty candid with my thoughts about it in the weekly newsletters. In the last newsletter I also shared that I will take my blogging down to one day per week. I managed two posts a week for a good clip there, but a.) I don’t want to get burned out on posting; b.) I don’t want to create so much content that people can’t consume all of it; c.) I also need to make enough time to write other things; d.) now that I am surfing a bit more I have less time to write.

The last stretch of waves — from Friday April 24 through Monday April 27 — was pretty incredible. There was something in at least the chest high zone to surf for four days in a row. On Friday the 24th I had planned initially to get to the beach at 3p and surf till dark, but as I was finishing up some writing at 1130a I saw that the forecasted swell had arrived early. Winds were light side offshore from the ENE. I had wanted to make pierogies from scratch for dinner, so I opted to drive out early, surf, and return home in time to make dinner. When I arrived there was not a soul in sight, and clean, peaky waist to chest high surf. It was drizzly and cold so I wore my 6mm Ripcurl Heat Seeker, 7mm gloves, and 7mm boots. Mostly riding the 5’7” Channel Islands ‘Fishbeard’ that I picked up in March — that’s the board that is in the majority of coach vids right now — it’s part fish and part shortboard and suits my surfing well. I thought I’d have it all alone but Bobby, the local hairdresser, had popped out just before me. With two guys and a whole beach, however, it was pretty easy to stay apart. Didn’t film this session — no clients and no tubes — just had a free surf. Was in a good rhythm with the inside nuggets that hit the bar just right. In fact I was catching so many waves that I began to overheat in my suit. It was way too much rubber. I considered taking off my gloves, but decided to stay over-warm rather than risk frostbite. As the afternoon continued it did get more crowded. I do not feel that I was ever very close to any other surfer, although I did see some groups surfing who had arrived together. They sat together in the lineup and were socializing. They also liked to burn one another and whomever else. Their surfing was uninspiring from both a technical and social aspect, but for the most part they were easy to avoid. I went in at 330p, counted about 15 people out with many more frothing for parking and suiting up as I was leaving. I got home in time to take a hot shower, hang up my gear, and make the pierogies, which we ate with sauteed onions, sour cream, and an arugula and radish salad. We’ve been into our every other weekly trip to the Union Square Farmer’s Market to load up on eggs and fresh veg. I am no longer vegan or vegetarian, but eat that way most of the week.

When I got out of the water the jetty I surfed was crowded the but the one next door revealed some empty waves.

Pierogies with potato, spinach, and onion! Both dough and filling are easy to make! I made a batch of 36, cooked 14, and froze the rest for another day!

The next day, Saturday, the 25th, had all of the hype on it. I knew it was going to be crowded so I left my house at 415a. Brooklyn is very quiet at that hour. There was still some residual moisture on the van. I suited up around 5a. I didn’t even check the surf because the buoys suggested there would be something to surf — it was 6ft @ 11 seconds. I paddled out in the dark around 515a. I wore my Isurus 3mm hooded suit, 7mm booties, and tried the no gloves route. The water was like ice fire on my hands. I am near sighted and don’t wear contacts in the water so was surfing pretty blind, but it was a complete pleasure to be alone in the ocean with an orange horizon and the sparkling boardwalk lights on the water. I did bring the Go Pro this session because I had planned to do some light coaching with Brant. The Go Pro footage reveals that I did indeed get inside of that tube in the dark and made it out through the “doggy door” — this is what it’s called when you’re inside the tube but you have to exit through the crashing lip rather than through the “front door” or circular opening at the end. It’s still a make, but just not as glorious. The crowd came on quickly by 6a. As the tide filled in a weird bump and funk started to appear on the waves. I was over it by 7a, hopped in the car suit still on, and headed to find something less populated. I succeeded, but only just, and this time I put the mittens back on. The place I surfed had about 8 people total surfing it. 6 of these were Isao Hoshi, a really nice Japanese surfer, and his crew. They can be a bit frothy and there is definitely some ‘lost in translation’ communication that can happen, but overall they are just stoked people. We waved in the water and took turns on waves which kept us apart from one another. It was a bit of a marathon day. After that session I pounded a tupperware of pierogie filling — potatoes, spinach, and onions — and a tin of sardines (King Oskar — best) in the van and headed to Katherine and Bobby’s for a high tide session. I set up two CSC boards for them — the 9’ orange and the 9’ red stripe — and we walked to the beach at least 6ft apart from one another. No one out at all. Clean A-frames with soft entries. Was home by mid afternoon, and was almost too exhausted to even edit footage. After showering I just laid on the couch with T Rock for a bit. Sophia had baked some fresh sourdough loafs, so at 3p I went to town on a vegan mezze platter to go with the bread: homemade falafel balls, homemade hummus, sauteed greens with garlic, roasted eggplant, a salad of roasted red pepper, olives, green onions, and basil. We garnished the table with radishes from last Wednesday’s farmer’s market and pickles from a jar. Here is the video of the surfing that day followed by pics of Brant on a bomb, Bobby and Katherine at their spot, and the mezze platter I whipped up afterwards.

Been working with Brant a lot through the crisis. He only surfs once a week, but he makes it count. We’ve been doing virtual pop up and technique coaching from our homes and it’s paying off in his approach in the water.

Bobby and Katherine exiting the water with the CSC 9’0'“s. This is “crowded” for their spot but those people were not out when we were surfing. Look at that fun left coming through!

This meal was a winner! Sophia’s sourdough in the near left corner, to the right of that the sauteed greens, then radishes, homemade hummus, red pepper and olive salad, pickles, homemade falafel balls, and roasted eggplant.

Obviously I’m enjoying all of the at-home cooking during these times. I cooked a lot before, but now I’m branching out and trying to make things that I would normally buy out. The falafel balls are a good example. I usually have falafel once in a blue moon, usually from Taim when I’m making a trip to the New School in Manhattan. Pierogies I’d normally get on a random trip to Greenpoint, but not now. I looked up how to make them, the recipe was straightforward, so I went for it. Sophia is working pretty long days from home. I have a much more flexible schedule, so it’s my job to put dinner on the table. Some nights I cook enough that we don’t have to cook at all the next day, as was the case with the mezze night.

Sunday, April 26th, was stormy and gray. I had been texting with my yoga coach, Evan Perry, and with Juan on Saturday evening about the potential to score surf Sunday night. I felt that my cup was pretty full and was really on the fence about it. Then I started looking at wind and buoy charts and in my deepest heart I knew Evan was right. Monday had all the hype on it, but Sunday looked like it was the goods. After surfing Saturday, Evan, a yogi of 30 years, safely passed off his copy of Astanga Yoga by Lino Miele to me at the beach. I read it over on Sunday morning and many of the things Evan has been trying to teach me over the years clicked when I read about the philosophy and background of the poses he has had me do in our private sessions. I have been struggling to keep up my practice and get confused about the counting and transitions in the poses. I get through my two sets of sun salutations and then lose interest or will power to complete the practice. For some reason reading the book — which I think is not very clear unless you have had prior training as I have had with Evan — made it all click for me. I was also excited about the Astanga philosophy of doing away with dualistic mind body thinking by focusing on the breathe as an integral part of a whole being. I thought to myself, “This is like if Spinoza added a stretching practice to his philosophy!” I texted Evan to see if he’d chat with me about some of my discoveries. He was down and we had a productive and enlightening 1 hour chat about the history of Astanga, and some of the modern updates (there are quite a few). I decided that I would indeed have to surf that evening, but not before getting a good practice on my mat in. From 3-4p II had my longest personal yoga session and some of the tension in my right hip that I have been struggling with the past three months felt as though it had released a bit.

Many shakas and mahalos to Evan for helping me with my practice over the years. It will continue to be a struggle I am sure, but I am grateful to have a guide. One day I may also do a post/essay on the significance of my tattoos.

I left for the beach at 4p. Evan’s call was right: it was firing. The crowd was pretty light, but not non existent. I pulled on my brand new 3/2 Ripcurl Heat Seeker, which is like a 4/3 because of the flash lining, but just thinner (I had bought one of these last year and it fell apart in 5 months, so I sent it back and they sent me a brand new one). I also wore a hood, 7mm mittens, and 7mm booties. It was a perfect kit. I was light and warm at the same time. At peak crowd there were 10 people out. But part of these 10 were me, Evan, Juan, Evan’s friend James, Dante, and Isao. The other guys I had seen before too and everyone was sharing waves, taking turns, not socializing beyond hoots and thumbs up through gloves. It was the first time I had surfed without hip pain in a few months. This allowed me to push more through my turns without my body holding back in fear and tension. And the waves just kept pumping. Little pocket tubes everywhere. While many of the crew tried for the waves by the jetty I contented myself on the inside and more towards the middle of the beach. There were a few more closeouts there but also more opportunity to tuck inside. Plus I felt I didn’t need to be crowded the peak. The strategy did work. I got mine and everyone else got their fair share too. Joy was palpable. The session felt like therapy. By 7p my blind ass could not see very well and I was more than satisfied. I got out, changed, and shot a bit of vid from the shore. I had the Go Pro with me this session too, and the vid of the day, I must say, is pretty epic.

Middle of the beach wave.

I got home on Sunday night around 830p. There is no longer any traffic from Rockaway to my pad, so I’m making the trip in about 35 minutes. I did not have to cook since there were plenty of leftovers from Saturday’s meal. I added some animal protein this time in form of cheese and pate, and washed down the epic surf with a nice glass of Portuguese red wine. I tried to watch the season finale of Homeland, but despite the suspense I still passed out. I had to wake up at 4a on Monday to get in the last droplet of swell.

Monday, April 27th, was the coldest day of the week by far. I got to the beach early — a different jetty this time — and noticed the swell had dropped off a ton. There were still fun waves to be had, for sure, but I was not in a hurry to get out there. Dante was on his way for some coaching, and I just didn’t feel like freezing when I was already satisfied from the past three days. I stayed inside the van and started looking through the footage on my computer, texting screen grabs to stoke my friends out, and answering a few emails from my phone. When D. arrived we checked the surf in our masks and made a game plan to surf the middle of the beach where no one was out. There were lefts and rights coming through. A little lully and inconsistent, but plenty fun looking. I suited half way up and shot video from shore. When I saw that D. was out of rhythm with the ocean I paddled out on my 6’7” Andrew Kidman (I wanted float for my sore muscles) and helped establish a flow for him (and this session I was back in a hooded 5/4mm suit, 7mm mittens, and 7mm boots). D. picked up some gems before he ended his session.

An empty right Monday, April 27th. Going right in NY is a good bet for the social distancing surfer.

After that I surfed the next jetty over with Luca. There was only 1 guy out there and still a few nuggets coming through. I was pleased to see how much progress he has made in our past 3 sessions. He is one of those guys that has a skate and snowboard backround and hopped straight to a shortboard too early. We have been working on smoothing out his paddling form — legs together, no kicking, deeper strokes — and figuring out gliding entries. We surfed together without filming for an hour, then I came in got the shot of his last wave. Luca is riding his wife, Giuli’s, 7’8” CSC “Potentia” hybrid, which is the best board for a surfer of Luca’s level. It’s floaty, fast, and responsive. Catches anything and turns on a dime.

We’re both pretty sure Luca came down with Covid on January 30th after our first session together in NJ. Luca describes it as, “The worst flu I have ever had.” He was extremely fatigued, ran a fever of up to 104, and when he was “recovered” he still felt very tired and lacking in strength. I may be wrong, but I think the night after our first surf together he either went to the hospital or was almost in hospitalizable condition. His wife, Giuli, also came down with it. Obviously until tests come out we won’t know whether he has antibodies or not. Nor whether I have them. That day — Jan 30 — we were not distant at all. I gave him treats that Sophia had made after our surf. He reached his hand into our tin of cookies. It is also possible that Dante had Covid in late February. He had the worst cough I have ever heard and it simply would not go away. He went to his doctors and tested for the flu and bronchitis and came up negative for both despite this gnarly cough that lasted weeks. He also recalled to me while we were doing a virtual coaching session that during that time his lungs hurt and he was short of breathe on his runs. It’s so wild.

Testing both for carrying the virus and for having antibodies, as most of us know, is still not wide spread. Many of us in NY have received emails from City MD that they’re starting to be able to administer tests there, but many of us are also wary of going into public health offices. Hospitals seem to have treatment under control, but people are still getting crazy sick and dying as a result of the virus. Tensions are very high between those who feel they are doing a better job than others of observing the new social distancing and mask wearing norms and those they perceive who are not. I, for one, have lightened up my attitude towards people, especially surfers, who are not making proper space. I just stay away from them. At this point I am close to convinced we cannot get it while surfing, but I’ll be the first one to announce should I fall ill and suspect surfing is the cause. As this blog post attests, I am keeping myself accountable for the times I leave the house, the people I come into contact with, and the surfaces that I touch.

I haven’t lightened up on any of my protocols. No one has been riding with me in the van. I am still wearing a mask to check the surf, not touching railings or public objects, not stopping for food or water, and since I’ve limited my surfing to Rockaway, which is about 6 miles from my house in Central Brooklyn, I don’t get gas very often. The protocol at the pump is pretty easy: wipe down the pump machine buttons with an alcohol pad, use gloves to pump the gas, discard gloves when done, wipe down steering wheel and shifter and radio controls, and iphone with alcohol pad, drive off.

There are more people surfing on the east coast now than usual in April. There are two main causes for this: many of people are working from home or not working, and there has been a lot of swell. In general when there are waves on the east coast, people make the time to go out. But we are not having the problems that people are having on the west coast. The most surfers I have counted at one break at one time was 30. This is a lot, but that is the most I have counted. Mostly I’m seeing crowds top out at about 10-11 surfers. I am seeing images of 100s of surfers at certain breaks in CA right now. They have been having lots of swell and nice weather. Things look like they have only gotten worse there with partial beach closures in certain counties, which makes surfers travel away from their home county to surf. Beaches are filled with sun bathers. Sustained contact with other humans is the way that this thing spreads, so if people are going to beaches to do anything other than surf and get out of the water, it’s a public health hazard. I am not sure what is going on in terms of public habits of buying food and gas and eating in public on these outdoor excursions that people are having. One thing is for sure, the fact that many people are not working is a mess on many levels. I do not have a solution to fix the mess. I can only say what it is.

One thing keeping us able to surf here in NY is that our weather sucks. It’s cold and drizzly and not fun to be on the beach. And also we have the east coast notion that our beaches are technically closed to the public this time of year already. This has always been a weird concept for me to wrap my head around, but generally the inlanders will not flock to beaches unless there are lifeguards on duty, which is only Memorial Day-Labor Day. That is “the season” for going to beaches by the public at large. I imagine beaches will remain “closed” for the summer, but I am not sure what this will look like for us NY and NJ surfers. I don’t even know if Cuomo and De Blasio know we exist.

Another thing I will say is that I notice a change in myself in my level of anxiety and fear. As my anxiety decreases I feel less passionate about policing others. The higher the anxiety the more I am on red alert to lash out at others. All I can do is be accountable for myself and for those that I come into contact with. The only person I have had a face to face, maskless, less than 6ft distant, conversation with in the past 6 weeks is my partner, Sophia. We go grocery shopping 1x every other week, and do laundry in our laundry mat 1x per month (yes, the piles are intense in the house by week 3).

I feel fortunate that I have figured out new ways to reach out and support the CSC community with new virtual educational opportunities, and with continued light coaching at the beach and in the water. My surf theory 101 course is still in creation mode, but I hope to have a full program designed by June 1. Same goes for a kids program, and continued re-tooling of packages to contain the virtual coaching sessions at home. These work. They really really do. Please reach out whether or not you’re in a package to get one under your belt. Guaranteed there are things you can do at home that you’re missing to help you surf better when you get back in the water.

Life will not be “normal” for quite some time. Surfing feels therapeutic, but there is still the risk of injury. I have been conscious of this and am not taking unnecessary risks in terms of wave judgment. Wiping out is fine. Needing to take a wave when someone is in your path is another thing altogether. Just don’t do it. To those that still want to say it’s a selfish thing to surf when everyone else is staying at home, I hear you. I know that there will also be waves in the future. But, per my Aristotle article, I still believe in a middle path. Overall I think it’s going to be more highly reasoned and self regulating solutions that will help get us through this thing and beyond. We need widespread testing and contact tracing. I recommend that most people keep some kind of “plague diary” of where you go and what you do so that should you fall ill you can be contact traced. Mine is a calendar hanging on the fridge.

Like many others, I will continue to read and listen to new reports. I will continue to cook and experiment in the kitchen. One of my favorite new things is to make stuff that normally comes packaged like tortillas, crackers, and above-mentioned pierogies. Gotta keep up the yoga practice, the writing, and even try to read some actual physical books from cover to cover (that may be a stretch). And I assume that for quite some time the only places I will go that are not my house will be the grocery store, the laundry mat, the local park to walk the dog, and to the ocean for salt water therapy.

Surf Video Review: The Present (2009) by Thomas Campbell

The other day Juan texted me this YouTube link of Thomas Campbell’s 2009 The Present. I saved the link as usual to view for later, but then Juan sent another text of him watching this on a big computer monitor — Dave ‘Rasta’ Rastovich doing big, arcing turns on a twin fin on some huge right hander. “Ok,” I thought, “I’ll give this one a watch.” I first watched without sound — well I was listening to a podcast about why Bernie Sanders lost — and was immediately blown away by the first section in Sumatra with Dan Malloy, Chelsea Hedges, Sofia Mulanovich, Ry Craike, and Danny Hess. This was the first time I’d ever seen women and men thrown together on the same surf trip, in the same heavy waves, riding the same heavy tubes with perfect technique and gusto. “I have to share this with the CSC peeps,” was my next thought. As the Indo section moved into boiler plate interstitial shots — again, I had sound off — I became bored, and was like, “Well I’ll post it on the blog, and let people watch.” Then, yesterday, I said to myself, “Just put your headphones on and watch the whole film Dion. Write a review.” And so I did. And I am glad I did. Here it is.

The Present is, one the one hand, a standard surf movie, or surf ‘porn’, in that it adheres to a time-tested formula of surf filmmaking: film great surfers surfing great waves both at home (or in their home environments) and abroad. Loop in a bit of travel narrative, some interstitial shots of sunrises and sunsets, breaking waves without people on them, and people of local cultures doing their everyday things, set it to music, and voila. But in response to many surf movies, especially the white-male-short-board-centric films of the 1990s and early 2000s, Campbell has a bit of a ‘political’ agenda, which is manifested in the film’s title, The Present. Campbell’s goal in this film is to redefine surfing’s “present” — 2009 — as marked by the “ride everything surfing ethos", which incorporates a larger historical view of surfing culture and aims towards a more inclusive approach to presenting the skills of “wave-sliders” of both genders by incorporating women and a variety of board types into the overall action of the film.

The point of The Present is to see how any given moment is always shaped by the past. It makes the point that it is important to incorporate ideas and techniques from the past that are worth saving, and to discard or transform those that aren’t. In Campbell’s case, he thinks the use of 16mm analog film, and voice overs ala Bruce Brown’s epic, albeit colonialist, racist, sexist, surf film The Endless Summer (1966) are worth retaining for the rich aesthetic and educational information they provide. Also like The Endless Summer, Campbell wants to bring you a “long form” surf film. This one ends up at 1hr and 14 min, so plan time for it — make some popcorn (which happens to be my favorite “junk food” both pre and post pandemic — I pop mine on the stove), crack a beer or a La Croix, and sit back.

The film begins with a montage and Campbell’s philosurfical cosmic musings about what surfing “is”. In answer to the question, “Which meaning of the ‘The Present’?” he answers, “Actually, both in definition. The idea of this film is to express a collective wonderment  for the occasion we all participate in on this vast functioning earth . . .” Interestingly ‘wonderment’ or ‘wonder’ is something foundational that surfing and philosophy have in common. Both are infinitely engaging because of a continued reproduction of this sense of wonder at the world we find ourselves in — wonder at its beauty, its awesomeness, but also wonder at the gross injustices and inequalities. Campbell is not blind to both of these forms of wonder. The film has a a bit of a sustainability message, although not completely worked out, and it also tries to redo the Africa narrative of Brown’s Endless Summer by celebrating rather than denigrating the local black culture.

Chelsea Hedges threds a throaty backside tube in Submersion 1: Sumatra.

The Present is organized in chapters Campbell calls “submersions”. Submersion 1 features insane tube riding in Indonesia/Sumatra and stars Dan Malloy, Sofia Mulanovich, Chelsea Hedges, Danny Hess, and Ry Craike. Dan Malloy narrates this section and explains why Indo is so damn good and worth traveling for. Not sure what travel looks like in our current ‘present’ and in the future ‘present’, but Indo will remain one of my own desired places to visit. Campbell and Malloy succeed in giving a picture of local life without the element of voyeurism and orientalism that is common in, among others, the Taylor Steele movies of the 90s and 00s. The tube riding by Mulanovich and Hedges is extraordinary, and Malloy remarks that he was astonished to see women surfing the tube this well, and that this gives him great hope for the future of women’s surfing. I think most women surfers would probably tell you that women have always been surfing well, but due to some intricate cultural factors have simply been left in the dark through the late 70s on through the 80s, 90s, and 00s. Kudos to Campbell, however, for seeing that surfing’s future does include more women — because that was the case with its ancient past. Hawaiian queens were central to early surfing culture, so it would make sense that any full blooded, well rounded surfing “present” includes women. It can and should include more women than are in this video, but this is a great start.

In terms of surf form in this section you watch for knee down (folded under) technique and slight tube adjustments backside and frontside, backside pig dog technique, rail grabbing cutbacks, how much time they wait before placing maneuvers, going from rail to rail with patience and purpose — this is called “holding a line”. 

Submersion 2 takes places in NZ and stars modern legends of longboarding Kassia Meador, Devon Howard, and CJ Nelson. Campbell defines “logging” as riding “heavily weighted longboards”. Watch for: use of the tail to set up the nose rides. How they walk towards the part of the rail engaged in the wave to keep it locked in as they go up to the nose. How they do the nose ride in the critical section of the wave. Low or quiet arms and hands. 

This is followed by an interstitial skit starring Rob Machado and Dane Reynolds as sports forecasters for the “Express Your Inner Monkey Expression Session.” Costumes and names of contestants are pretty hilarious. This cuts into Submersion 3, which features Dane surfing at home in Ventura, CA. Dane is outspoken about not feeling like he totally fits into the pro surfing mold, which is why Campbell highlights him as one of surfing’s great weirdos.

Submersion 4 strings together all the previous interstitial build up of phone calls between Al Knost and Michel Junod. This is the Africa trip that is meant to update The Endless Summer. Al and Michel don suits just like Mike Hynson and Robert August did and check into the airport counter holding boards not in board bags. They meet up with Rasta in Africa and they get together with some local musicians to play drum music. They score an epic right hander and run into a “feral” alaia rider named Jacob Stuth. In order to portray Jacob as “primitive” they cake mud on his face for the shot, which is probably not so cool in hindsight. What to look for: Al Knost’s paddle ins. He takes his time and establishes glide. Cool intergenerational feel to this section too with Junod’s solid, clean surfing. Frontside pop up and hand placement techniques for regular foots. Wave touching. Use of tail for control. Staying close to the power source of the wave. 

Submersion 5 is a feature on Joel Tudor and how he has influenced the “ride everything ethos”. Campbell gives a lion’s share of the credit for this new way of conceiving of surfing and surfboard design to Tudor. I think Tudor is an incredible surfer and extraordinarily influential, but I am wary of pinning any great historical shift in anything to one historical actor. As a follower of Tudor’s IG account, I can’t say I hold the highest opinion of his intellect or abilities to reason on land. He is an absolute genius in the water, no doubt. In this section Joel claims that 4 surfers initiated modern surfing: Phil Edwards, Gerry Lopez, Tom Curren, and Miki Dora. But as the section progresses, other surfers are blended into this mix. I am grateful that the part on Miki focuses on his surfing rather than his untenable political positions. It is clear, however, that Tudor idolizes Miki as an “everyman” of surfing who would “do anything to keep up the lifestyle.” I am extremely critical of Dora’s actions and views, and am willing to admit to his charisma and great surfing, but I think that overall he should be seen with a bit of an asterisk next to his name. I think it’s really important to think about how surfing well does not necessarily make one an imitable human being. Yes, to be a good surfer one does have to figure out how to have enough time to do a lot of surfing, but I hope that for most of us that doesn’t look like stealing your friends’ checkbooks or pulling off credit card scams.

Jacob Stuth alaia trim in the Africa submersion.

The last full submersion, Submersion 6, looks into surfing history and takes it back to its birthplace in Hawaii. Central figures in the film, Rastovich and Malloy, newly inspired by ancient Hawaiian designs, decide to ride alaias in large Hawaiian surf. The alaia is a thin surfboard made of wood with no fins. They were the main kind of surfboard used by ancient Hawaiians, as they were accessible to all class backgrounds, unlike the heavy olos, which could only be ridden by nobility. With these thin wooden boards you basically have to swim into the wave, which is incredibly difficult in terms of positioning and strength. They go very fast because there is literally no friction. I have one and love to surf it in clean peeling surf (not the right equipment for closeouts except as a a long boogie board). One drop Rasta pulls at Waimea is insane. Overall this is an incredible medly of hot alaia surfing. Notice how high the chest must be upon entering the wave, and how the back rail needs to be engaged because the board is so flat and the nose dips easily.

In classic surf film formula, it ends with another montage of the great rides, and Campbell solidifies his point that as surfing moves forward, it needs to include all the kinds of shapes and designs of surfboards that people can have fun wave sliding on. “Riding anything that floats your boat is the way to go depending on what nature offers up.” It is certainly not cool to negatively judge people solely on their choice of equipment, but it does matter whether or not you are able to achieve glide, flow, and efficient sliding on the tool(s) (or lack thereof) that you choose to engage with. I love the term “wave-sliders” because that really does get more towards what anyone who engages with waves is doing. It takes the emphasis off standing, and puts on waves, and sliding on them, however you achieve that. I hope that as more time goes on, more surf films will feature wave-sliders of various genders, age-groups, ethnic make ups, and identifications are featured surfing a variety of surf craft in grace and harmony together. That’s a constant ideal present that I’d love to see manifest for us in the future.