California Dreaming

So I'm in San Diego where I have been spending a bit of time with my brother, who lives here, before and after his wedding. I am so stoked to be able to hang out here, hiding from the British winter and sampling what I am quickly coming to appreciate is a very superior standard of living to anything you can get in London, especially as a surfer! I'm heading to Panama tonight, and hope to have a few tales to tell of surf in the Caribbean and Pacific, but in the meantime here are a few things I wanted to share about my trip so far...

Jet lag = dawn patrol

It's my first day in San Diego. I'm staying in Bird Rock, a very pleasant beach suburb of San Diego which is really part of La Jolla, the City's exclusive "village" community largely populated by Yuppies, Puppies and Yummy Mummies.

Jet lag means that I involuntarily wake at 5am. My bro is also awake early worrying about his wedding which takes place in a week's time. We decide to hit the beach - Tourmaline "Surfing Park" is only about 4 blocks from his house, but this is California, so we load boards and wetsuits into his SUV and drive through still, misty air. Tourmaline is by no means an epic spot, but I love the fact that it is my brother's local break (as a Londoner, my "local" break is a 5 hour drive away) and I am super excited about getting in early and soaking up the SoCal vibe.

What greets us when we get to the beach around 6.30 am is a scene so ridiculously Californian that I have to pinch myself to check I am not still on the plane and dreaming. The car park is packed with pick-up trucks, SUVs and classic beetles, Cadillacs and the rest. Men and women of all ages are pulling on wetsuits and dragging longboards out of their cars. A few are just hanging out and listening to music.

About 20 middle-aged guys are standing in a circle on a patch of grass behind the beach, heads bowed in prayer before they paddle out. I can't tell if it is a Christian thing or just some spiritual get together, but it is pretty cool and a nice indication that these people don't necessarily take their lives for granted.

From the top of the beach I take my first look since arriving the night before at the Pacific Ocean, which is grey and shrouded in a lingering marine fog. The water is as glassy as it could possibly be - there is no wind at all and the mirror-like smoothness of the surface is only broken by the occasional clump of kelp. Bumps of swell appear out of the mist at regular intervals in the 2-3 foot range - nothing epic, but nice glassy lines, pulsing almost out of nowhere, the last remnants of what I hear has been a solid groundswell.

And there it is, the crowd. There are about 100 surfers in the water, maybe more - almost all of them on longboards. Some of the older guys have whistles on strings around their necks, presumably to make any troublesome groms or kooks aware of their presence once they are up and riding, although I never see one being used "in anger".

I am planning to buy a board later that day, but for now I have charge of my future sister-in-law's 7'10" "lady board", a giant thruster, decorated with purple flowers. This doesn't bother me too much - this is not Black's or Trestles, this is a gentle family beach and I just want to get into the ocean and see if I can get a wave despite the crowd.

The vibe in the water is like California in a bottle. There are old dudes hollering and whooping every time they or anyone else gets a wave, and complaining to anyone who'll listen that they can't surf like they used to. There are young kids out with good friends, parents or siblings. Many people sit in the line-up chatting to friends and acquaintances. Some of them chat to me and make me feel welcome. (Mostly they ask if it's cold in England, even though they know the answer to that particular question.)

The crowd doesn't really bother me too much, even though every wave is paddled for by a dozen longboarders. Every wave is a party wave - no-one is out there trying to prove anything and the waves, although lovely and clean, are hardly worth getting territorial over. The fun is in sitting there and soaking up the vibe. This is surfing as a social activity as much as a sport or a past time.

Then, the rising sun starts to burn off the last of the sea-gloom, revealing the semi-urban north San Diego coast, fringed by tall palms, designer homes and the occasional hotel - the beach now dotted with joggers and "seniors" taking a morning stroll in their chinos and white caps. As the sun shines through and turns the water from metallic grey to deep turqoise, I even manage to snag a couple of nice waves to myself. The surf is at best mediocre and I'm on a crummy board which is a potential embarrassment in itself, but I couldn't be happier.

Poor bastards

“You poor bastards” was the greeting we received when we showed up at West Coast Lodge in Lahinch asking for a room.

We had arrived at Shannon airport a few hours earlier, planning to surf all day and drink Guinness all night over the bank holiday weekend.

“It was three to four foot and offshore until about an hour ago” our new friend kindly informed us. “Now it’ll be howling onshore gales for days. You poor bastards” he added again, as if to emphasise the fact that the 5.30am start, the misery of the Stansted Express and the indignity of our Ryanair flight all seemed to be in vain. He even went to the trouble of showing us the weather charts confirming his grim forecast. Sure enough, we had landed in Ireland at the same time as the tail-end of Hurricane Bill, and he was due to stick around for the duration of our stay.

What made this considerably worse news for us was that about an hour and a half before this conversation we had driven straight from Shannon airport to the headland at Lahinch and seen the 3-4 foot swell pulsing into the bay, with long rideable waves spinning off the point/reef in an ocean that was, appropriately enough, the colour of Guinness.


In hindsight the sensible thing to have done at that point would have been to suit up as quickly as humanly possible and paddle out. However, being the kooks that we are, we decided that those waves “weren’t going anywhere”, so we would get some lunch, find somewhere to stay and have a surf in a couple of hours. Sure enough, in the time it took us to get some food and find somewhere to stay, the relative perfection turned into unrideable chop, thanks to the strongest onshore wind I have ever had the pleasure of leaning against. Stupid bastards.

We had come to jump on Ireland's surfing bandwagon. Never mind South West France, Ireland seems to be where it is happening. The Emerald Isle has suddenly become the destination of choice for surfers around the world, largely thanks to images of lunatics surfing giant waves at Aileen's and other big wave spots. I had always had images of Ireland's coast as isolated, wild and untamed. This was mainly thanks to endlessly watching Litmus, Andrew Kidnam's seminal 1996 film which features the permanenty stoned but insanely talented Joel Fitzgerald single-handedly taking on a series of nasty looking grey waves, most of which seem to have the sketchiest entry and exit points. (I wanted to embed a clip here but there are none on Youtube. However, Andrew Kidman does have a very mellow website - check it out.)

Despite Ireland's wild image, I somehow expected late summer sunshine and mellow surfs at manageable reef breaks and picturesque beaches. It wasn't to be. Hurricane Bill lashed the West Coast of Ireland for days, making all the spots we checked totally unsurfable. We searched far and wide for shelter, but despite the huge waves battering the exposed beaches, the sheltered spots were flat.

In fact, in 5 days, only one was vaguely surfable. Sunday morning saw a lovely clean 3 foot swell rolling into Strandhill beach, near Sligo. Only two guys were in and we soon realised why. The swell started dropping as soon as we paddled out. We had missed the best of it and within an hour it was virtually flat.

Ireland is a beautiful country - we saw a lot of it through the car window as we drove around looking for shelter from the wind and the driving rain. As surf trips go, this one was a washout, and it is too easy to form an impression of a surf destination based on the conditions that prevailed when you were there. If it had been vaguely sunny and we'd had a bit more clean surf, I'd be singing Ireland's praises. As it is, I'm finding it hard to be positive about Ireland as a surf destination, but it will always hold a strange wild attraction to me thanks to Litmus and Joel Fitzgerald's stoned rantings...

Dusting off the cobwebs

I had a sweet long weekend in West Cornwall for the bank holiday - my first trip for a while and a grim reminder that my surfing isn't exactly coming along leaps and bounds living as I do in London. The first paddle out at Gwithian was pretty painful and I really regretted not hitting the pool in preparation.

Sadly it wasn't happening at Gwenvor

We got decent swell on the Saturday but Gwithian was out of control so we opted for Mexican Lanes at the Hayle rivermouth, which I've never surfed before. It wasn't quite linking up properly but there were some nice waves sneaking though. Although I was struggling a bit from lack of fitness, I managed to pick a couple off and get at least one of those rides which reminds you first that you CAN still surf (just about) and secondly that there really is no better feeling than dropping into a clear turquiose wave, putting in a few turns and kicking out with the knowledge that you did ok on that one.

The sun was shining, the water was just about warm enough to be pleasant, I was with good mates - I wouldn't really have wanted to be anywhere else... Those rare days of sun and surf always make the long drive worthwhile - the rugged beauty of the coastline and countryside down there, and the feeling of being well away from it all, can make up for the fact that I can't surf as well as I could 5 years ago. And if my car survives there will hopefully be plenty more trips to the Land of Saints so maybe I will restore some of my former glories...

Fully loaded.

Stats

Further to my last post, I've just seen some interesting stats which have prompted me to follow it up. When I wrote that last post I was going to look at previous years' results to see what the lowdown was on surfers who win the first two events going on to win the title, but I had too much else to do and, frankly, I guess I was being a bit lazy. Well luckily the ASP have done if for me here. But I'll happily regurgitate those statistics here and try to avoid plagiarism allegations as I go...

Unsurprisingly, if you win the first two events of the tour you are fairly likely to get the title - it really is as simple as that. So Joel Parkinson is currently in pretty good company - you may have heard of Mark Richards, Tom Carroll, Tom Curren, Kelly Slater and Sunny Garcia - apparently they were ok surfers way back when... Well they all won the first two events in various years and all of them went on to win the tour in those years. In fact, Kelly managed this three times and Curren did it twice.

You may not have heard of Cheyne Horan and Hans Hedemann (ok, Cheyne Horan is on the radar but without being rude who the heck is Hans Hedemann? I'm envisaging some teutonic blonde dude surfing in leiderhosen). They both have the dubious accolade of winning the first two but not sealing the deal at the end of the season. In fact neither of them ever lifted the title. Somehow I can't see Parko's name joining Horan and Hedemann in surfing's Hall of Moderate Success but Relative Obscurity, but who knows...

The ASP article reminded me that only one surfer has ever won three events in a row - Tom Curren in 1990. So if Parko pulls off a win in Tahiti next month, he really will be in good company, and he will be ahead of Slater in at least one surfing statistic, which is no mean feat...

Kelly slips, Joel dominates

Well what a difference a few months can make. When I last posted (a long time ago) Kelly was king and no-one else stood a chance. I was looking forward to a bit more competition on the CT, but I didn't see it happening until Slater got his 10th and finally let someone else have a go. It looks like I was wrong...

We might be only two events into the 2009 Dream Tour, but the tables have turned. The 9 times world champ currently stands at 24 in the ASP rankings, with two consecutive 17th place finishes. Ok, it's early days, but bear in mind Slats won in both Queensland and Victoria last year (and lifted the trophy in another four events that season), so the great man has truly come down to earth from a great height and with an almightly bump, or splash... I'm not saying we should write off Kelly's chances of sealing the magic 10th just yet, but there's no doubt he is in for a good old fight, assuming he can pull something special out of the bag in the next few events.

And how dangerous is Joel Parkinson looking? He's not suddenly the new Kelly, but two emphatic wins on home soil have shown how one surfer can sometimes get so much momentum on the tour that he looks unstoppable. And what's more the top 44 arrive in Tahiti for the inevitable barrel fest at Teaupo next month - Parko went all the way to the semis last year and judging by his current form, I'd put good money on him sealing the hat-trick in those lush tropical waves.

But let's not overlook the rest of the chasing pack - my favourites CJ and Taj are looking good at 5th and 7th respectively (CJ also made the semis in Tahiti last year), and many of the top contenders are looking strong - Mick Fanning, Jordy Smith, Fred Patacchia and Adriano de Souza are all representing in the top 7 and any of those guys could put the heat on Parko.

All in all it looks pretty exciting so far, and we should celebrate the fact that not only does the field look (relatively) open - assuming Parko doesn't win all the events - but also that the top 7 contains surfers from pretty much all the great surfing nations - Australia, Hawaii, USA and Brazil. My only question - where are the Brits?! Probably down the pub...

Surfing on and on

It has occurred to me that Kelly Slater has been universally accepted as the best surfer in the world for as long as I've been surfing. Slater first won the title back in 1994, which was probably a year or so before I first stood up on a surfboard. In the intervening 15 years, Slats won another 8 titles and notched up a bunch of other accolades - he was the first surfer to get 2 perfect 10 point rides in a heat, he's won (considerably) more CT events than any other surfer, claimed a record 6 Pipeline Masters titles, and don't forget he nailed Pamela Anderson, Gisele and Cameron Diaz, among others. (For an illustration of the sheer excitment of the Slater/Anderson hook-up - see below.)

Over the same period, my greatest surfing achievement was probably surviving a gnarly hold down in Bali - and let's just say my dry land conquests don't include any supermodels...

I know I'm not exactly saying anything new here, but it is phenomenal that one man has been so dominant for so long. And it's not just that he wins all the time - he is simply the best surfer in the world, and by a margin, in my opinion (for what it's worth). And the other thing about Slater's dominance is that it will come to an end - surely he'll stop at 10 and let someone else have a go - and what happens after that? Well the good thing, at least if you're a top 15 surfer, is that the field will be wide open in a way that it has never really been while Slater has been kicking everyone's butts. Andy's title trilogy can, in part, be attributed to Slater's semi retirement, and no-one else has had any sustained time at the top. There are so many good surfers just waiting for Slats to step aside - Parko, Taj, CJ, Mick, Andy as well as some of the new boys - any one of them could win it. But the reality is that Slats doesn't have a true successor in the form of one standout individual who is way better than all the rest - Fanning was the prodigal son for a while but his talent just isn't as mercurial as Slater's. I'm glad that the other boys will get their chance once King Kelly abdicates, and he'll probably remain the best well after he stops competing (Tom Curren managed it, after all). But it would be nice to think that somewhere the next Kelly is just waiting to be discovered.

On a semi-related theme, Russell Winter has been the most successful British surfer over almost the same period (poor old Spencer - never quite made it). And he was seriously successful at a time when no other British or European surfers seemed to be able to make it into the top grade. Given the utterly unoriginal nickname of "British Bulldog", Winter was the first European, let alone British, surfer ever to qualify for the WCT, staying on the tour for several years and occasionally giant-slaying in heats (he famously beat Slater at Sunset) but never quite getting the limelight for it.

That said, and with the greatest respect to a man who has defintitely achieved more than any other British surfer (unless Pottz counts, of course) he's one of those surfers who isn't that great to watch - he has a low, aggressive style, not unlike Sunny Garcia, that is functional but not necessarily graceful, progressive or inspiring. Maybe that's why he always struggled with sponsorship and ultimately never quite made it to the higher echelons of the Dream Tour... Incidentally he apparently still harbours ambitions to re-qualify for the WCT, but personally I can't see it happening (sorry Russ).

Younger British pros like Alan Stokes and Reubyn Ash enjoy way better sponsorship than Russ ever did, but none of them has achieved what Russell has, and, frankly, I wonder if they ever will. Arguably Stokes, Ash etc have had their shot at the big league and it just doesn't look like they're ever going to make it. We now have a bunch of European hotshots on the CT, but no Brits - who is Russell's successor? The top 100 places in the WQS rankings for 2008 contained not one British surfer - so it seems we have a long way to go.

I'm encouraged to hear about the Surf Solutions trips to Hawaii, taking our young groms out there to cut their teeth in surfing's lion's den (it's not as if they're going to master their tuberiding in Cornwall). Hopefully that kind of effort will reap dividends when those kids start out in the WQS and who knows which one of them will step into Russ's shoes and be given some lame nickname by the other pros. Maybe British companies like Animal should be doing more to nurture talent and provide opportunities to those who might succeed - after all, it's in their interest, as well as ours...