Of Broadswords, Pinot Noir, and Uni

Mike’s about as capable a waterman as you can get. Surf? Kills it.
Fish? Slays ‘em.
Sea kayaking? Yup.
Abalone diving? Si.
Urchin plucking? Enough already.

Lately he’s been ripping up the East Side on his 8’something Broadsword:

Pinot Noir bottom wrap by the boys at Almar Surf Works

Like Mike’s time in the water, his sword is all about options: 2+1, single, thruster. Whatever.

The go to lately, though, has been the quad.

Options provided by the good folks at Lokbox and Rainbow

In addition to the secrets of the salty deep, Mike inadvertently tipped me off to a secret parking stash somewhere in Santa Cruz. You see, he looks like a man who has a system. Who knows things.

So I followed him.

Sure enough: parking stash.

Thanks, amigo. And if you see a certain minivan paralleled in your usual spot, I swear it’s not mine.

Beefy cedar stringer. Strong like bull.
Still, you don’t want to wax the windshield. That would piss me the owner off.

Spring Blows

Sweet mother of God, how much has this spring sucked?
Who knows to what extent poet Mary Darby Robinson was deluded when she penned the lines in her Ode to Spring,
Ev'ry little flow'r
Seems to exult in thee, delicious Spring,
Luxuriant nurse of nature!
but she definitely wasn’t on the same allergy medication as me. The only nursing I’ve experienced these last few weeks was sucking on bottles of Lagunitas IPA while keeping tabs on a new sinus infection. Turns out my new sinus infection doesn’t love Lagunitas IPA. Turns out I don’t give a shit.
Remember fall? Sweet, sweet fall?
Some folks call it autumn. I have no idea what Mary Darby Robinson called it, but if she wrote anything less-than transcendent about it I’m burning my membership card to The Wearisome Poet’s Society For Those Who Use Exclamation Marks Whilst Describing A Season. If that society even exists. And if it did, why would I have joined in the first place? And what, exactly, does one have to do to get a membership? What were we talking about again?
Fall!
Speaking of fall, this one snuck by last fall, as boards do when the surf is the clean and the sinuses clear.

Note how the board's color palette stimulates a conversation with autumnal leaf background. Waveglider took this photograph.

Notice how this picture was taken in a Costco parking lot. I took this picture. Clearly, one of us is the better photographer, and it ain't me.

Waveglider has been around for a while—surfed with the heavies on Oahu back in the day when mens’ heads featured a bit more hair in the aft sections, and shorts featured a bit less fabric in the leg sections. He has a penchant for beak-nosed single fins and rippable 2+1 longboards.

WG is also no stranger to the vast expanse of the California coastline, and knows what he wants in a surfboard. It was a fun challenge trying to meet his, um, suggestions. For one of my shapes to be resting alongside the others in his quiver is indeed an honor.

This particular 9'6 has been joining WG in his jaunts into our cool, dark, watery offerings up here on the Northcoast.
Remember those?
Ahhhh, fall.

Abstract bottom by resin Maestro Tony Mikus

The joy

 lies in

The details.

Heroes

Lopez

Diffenderfer

Ho

MPx2

Abellira

Russell

Knox

Junod

Baby Damulag

Nature is fraught with paradox. Flightless birds. Flying fish. Dry lakes. Grape nuts. Snooki.

We, too, are plagued with an existential paradox: How we see ourselves vs. how others see us.

Rather than being at odds with paradox, Hawaiian born shredder, stoked California waveslayer, teen counselor, and new Sparkplug owner Baby Damulag embraces it. Take his name: a Damulag is a Filipino water buffalo. They’re strong like hell. They work like hell. And have you ever seen them around water? They love that shit. Much like BD himself.

But then why 'baby'? Because babies need their moms, and BD was one of those groms who talked trash about the older kids then ran behind his mom for protection. Scrappy! 

BD’s not afraid to charge some water-buffalo style waves, then come home and snuggle on the couch with his girlfriend and a soft blankie. That’s the kind of guy he is. No shame. Perfectly at ease with his existential paradox.

BD, at ease with his existential crisis, setting up for the next section on his new Sparkplug

His new sled, too, is marked with existential paradox. It’s a thruster. It’s a quad. Instead of going shorter according to current design fashion, BD added several inches to his standard board length. In other words, he’s doing his own thing and, baby or not, do you really want to mess with a damulag? 

Insane deck artwork/watercolor painting came all the way from Spain by talented artist Ruth Basagoitia, and celebrates the critical aspects of BD's existence.

Seeing Red

Guys Up North don't fool around. When horizontal freezing rain smashes directly into their blood-drained faces in the lineup they call it offshore. They regard plaid as a color. The only other colors in their chart are jeans, mud, and doghair.

Their automobiles are often missing seats and the word pilates has never, ever escaped through their unironically moustached upper lips. They think Miley Cyrus is a constellation, latte is how Italians say Goodbye, and a decaf is some kind of move from the summer Olympics that's done by dudes in tights.

What I'm saying is that there's a dialogue the rest of the nation is obsessed with that doesn't concern these folks in the slightest.

And they like stuff that's built to last.

9'6 triple stringer for Jonny from Up North. Full board tint with freehand comp bands--done during lamination by master glasser Tony Mikus at Almar Glass Works.

Built tough (heavy-but-not-too-heavy glass job, deck patch, fin patch, tailblock), so when the sleet turns onshore and the beach fire turns to smoke, Jonny doesn't have to worry as he tosses it with frozen fingers into the back of his van.

Right where the seats used to be.

Your Title Here

I shaped a clear winged keel for a customer last month. He rode it the day he picked it up, which was about twenty minutes after it was polished.

Did he give a shit about recommended curing times?
No, he did not give a shit about recommended curing times.

He was very excited about the board after he surfed it, which made me very excited about the board, so I shaped another one.

Why? Because I like the shape, and I couldn't sleep due to an afternoon cup of coffee. The coffee was a bad choice.

Also, there was this blank in my shop. Just staring at me. Daring me.

And now it's daring you!

You see, it's for sale.

5'8x 21x 2 5/8. Single wing. Cedar stringer. Gloss and polish. Foiled. Fun beachbreak board for someone between 48 and 300lbs who enjoys surfing.

Lokbox boxes and CI keels (not pictured) for maximum shreddage.