July 2, 2009, 9:33 am : PostSurf.com Excerpt-”When Men Were Men and Turtles Were Scarce”

Filed Under: Uncategorized
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Some things are so funny they just have to be  passed on. I’ve been a fan of Lewis Samuels’ PostSurf blog since he started it a few months ago. I can’t really say for certain whether getting sacked by Surfline has contributed to his cavalier, unadulterated writing, but he certainly tells it like he sees it. That makes him the only one that is not afraid to buck the bro-brah glad-handing attitude that pervades the surf media. Kudos for that Lewis.

I came across his current Comment of the Week yesterday, and I had to repost it here. Thank you Lewis, and credit due to jiggy jig, the PostSurf reader who sent this comment:

Rasta (Dave Rastovich) took the easy way out. He could be top 5 talent, or maybe top ten, or maybe even a world champ. (Remember this site was born from power rankings of the pro-tour so spare me all the “competition isn’t the only measure of talent greeniebro rants. It is the only true measure of talent in the sport.

The truth is, will never know the extent of Rastas competitive surfing talent because he never stepped up to the plate. I’m sure there are “Babe Ruths” out there who have never touched a bat. Do they count? Nope. Not for sh!t. Is it even worse to be a fringe element media boy milking manatees and putting lotion on turtles nipples every time they get a rash dragging themselves up the beach while claiming world class talent? Yep. It’s like some guy doing baseball videos where he hits ball out of the park and does ads for gloves and bats like he’s a contender but come game time he is running around telling everyone not to tear up the grass with their cleats because it leads to global warming. And flying around the world to different stadiums to do so.

Wanna be green? Stay the f$*# home and grow vegetables. Bodysurf naked with no fins. Get a normal job in your hometown and do volunteer work. Don’t prance around the world acting like buddhas bitch and preaching holier than thou BS about “saving the earth”. You are the problem, not the solution. Don’t go posing in ads that sell petro boardshorts while riding a “wooden finless board shaped on location” in some far flung indo spot that is being destroyed by “eco surf tourism” unless you f%ck!ng swam there from Sydney and carved the plank with your own teeth.

“green pro surfers” are the ultimate hypocrites. Should I buy their products because Rasta brushes his teeth with turtle sh!t? Not so much. The only joy the surf industry ever brought me was selling 50,000 shares of zqk short right before it plunged to f&*k all. Took the money, bought a hummer, went to Bali and had a turtle steak and some satay eagle.

By the way, my “uncles” were guys like Harry Hackman and Jose Angel and and they used to bring home huge turtles and we ate them on the north shore in the 60s. Tasted great and kept the shark population down. Before leashes, before sponsors, before 4oz cloth, before thrusters, before internet surf checks, before Blue Crush.

Back when men were men and turtles were scarce.

Of course our boards sucked and so did our surfing.

But man, those turtles knew their place.

July 1, 2009, 11:10 am : THAT New Caribbean Wave

Filed Under: Surfing, Travel Tales
Discussion: C[0]mments

Have you seen the new Caribbean discovery splayed across the pages (not to mention the cover. See pic below.) in the current issue of Surfing Magazine? Tropical blue water, fine white-powdery sand, not a soul in sight, save for Ben Bourgeois sighting himself down a barrel that is straight out of a dream. A single set of footprints in the sand leading to the water’s edge. I bet the editorial meeting to pick the cover was a quick one; this shot exemplifies cover shot quality.

Typically I don’t take the surf magazines to task for the sin of revealing new surf spots to the World. But this one is different. Why would that be, you ask? After all, there have been other, more remote zones that have been opened up and subsequently overrun with surfers thanks to our good old rags. The Mentawais, The Maldives, the better part of Central America, even Tavarua, have all been hand-delivered to the readers of surf magazines over the years. The mags try to toe the line between being secretive and luring readers with just enough “meat” to figure out where a place is. The inevitable result…Spots become overrun with surfers within months.

But this transgression is the worst yet-I’ll explain why in a bit. Before that it should be said that the three people on the trip should be held harmless. The surfers, Ben Bourgeois and Jesse Hines, are two of the most low-key, humble pro surfers you could ever meet. And photographer Rob Gilley, who also penned the article, has a long history of finding, shooting and not naming new spots (while he did pen the article, the details were fuzzy enough that the average joe couldn’t figure out the locale via Google search).

But here’s why this instance is worse than all before. First, haven’t we learned by now the effect that revealing a new spot through the magazines has? The less adventurous surfers will do their diligence to figure out just where this place is and camp on it ’til it gets good. The real hardcore travelers will maybe swoop in, if the haven’t already, and be out of there before it becomes the next La Barra, Mexico. Only time will tell, since this is a spot that doesn’t awaken all too often.

Wait, how do I know that? Based on the few details dished up in Gilley’s piece, we know that:

1. It’s in the Caribbean (duh).
2. It’s a long sand point around the bend from a normal beachbreak. Those kinds of setups are fairly rare in the Carib.
3. It’s an island that hasn’t become overrun with tourists.
4. It was settled later than most Caribbean islands due to lack of suitable anchorage spots.

By taking all these things into account, plus knowing the prevailing winds down there, it took me less than fifteen minutes to pinpoint this place on Google Earth (using Google search to compliment the effort). To his credit, Gilley did throw a bit of details in there to act as subterfuge, as is the norm in these articles, but that wasn’t enough to the keen wave researcher.

Why does Surfing even have to say the place is in the Caribbean? Does it matter where it is? Just call it somewhere. No matter the strategy, surfers would find it, but at least it would make the task a bit more difficult. To make matters worse, this isn’t a Teahupoo-type death barrel, this is an everymans type of wave; probably never getting too big, prevailing offshore wind, breaking over sand in gin-clear water. Even makes me want to book a ticket. At least the place is fickle; one should hope that it rarely awakens at all.

I fear for this place now, this island. Every East coast surfer dreams of such a place close to home, now they have the photograpahic motivation to seek it out. The Caribbean is a very fickle place, where it takes lots of time and luck to find quality waves off the beaten path. Hopefully Surfing hasn’t just let this cat out of the bag and ruined the dreams of the real searchers out there. Time will tell.

June 1, 2009, 11:53 am : The Cheaters Midnight Run Sneak Tracks

Filed Under: Album Reviews, Music, Uncategorized
Discussion: C[0]mments

I've been fortunate enough to wrangle the new album Midnight Run from The Cheaters. In case you haven’t read, their album release party is this Friday at the 8X10 in Baltimore. Turn up your volume, get your coffee and dig to these two new tracks they just gave me permission to publish here. Here’s to The Cheaters upcoming release produced by Frank Marchand, III.


Fast Times


I Ain't Comin Back

May 21, 2009, 9:26 am : Preview: The Cheaters Forthcoming Release - Midnight Run

Filed Under: Album Reviews, Genres and Styles, Interviews, Music, Upcoming Shows
Discussion: C[0]mments

Are The Cheaters poised to stretch their wings far beyond their Baltimore stomping grounds? With the upcoming release of Midnight Run, this writer thinks that is a distinct possibility.

The Cheaters bringin’ it live

I interviewed drummer Kevin Shook and lead singer/guitarist Jason Morton for Baltimore Examiner recently to get their firsthand take on Midnight Run and the music life. Here’s what Shook had to say about Midnight Run:

Examiner: Can you give fans some insight about the new CD? What can we expect from your new music?

Shook: The new album is definitely a lot more straight-forward rock ‘n roll than the first disc. We have a couple of tracks that hint back to the southern-influenced material from the first record, but on the whole, this is really just a solid rock record. We also worked really hard on the songwriting this time around. We’ve added a lot more dynamics, like dueling leader guitars, key changes, and different song structures to help keep things fresh. We also brought in some guest musicians this time around, and added some harmonica, back-up singers, and organ on some tunes. We’re all really excited about the new disc, and feel that this is definitely our best effort yet.

Since then I received an advance copy of the album and got the chance to listen to it a few times. Slicing guitar, impressive arrays of drum beats that are finely varied and creatively timed, and vocals that are developed way beyond the typical abilities of a young singer are the elements in what makes Midnight Run the release of the year. The songwriting shows strong development and diversity, with a few amazing surprises for listeners.

To say it more succinctly, in rock terms, this album FREAKING RIPS! Ask yourself the last time you were blown away by a new rock release; real, authentic rock? Thank The Cheaters, because once Midnight Run hits the streets we’ll all have a reason to “Grab the whiskey (and) grab our friends.” Their CD release party is June 5th at the 8×10 in Baltimore. Be there. I will, there’s no chance I’m missing this.

Coming soon - I’ll post a couple of tracks off Midnight Run for an exclusive sneak peak.

May 12, 2009, 10:06 am : Allan Weisbecker - The Quintessential Interview with the Down South Pirate

Filed Under: Biography, Interviews, Surfing, Travel Tales
Discussion: C[0]mments

Editors Note: I first met Allan Weisbecker in Montauk, earning a brief interview with him following the printing of In Search of Captain Zero.

Ever the Long Island writing hero to this fledgling surf-mag writer, ACW was kind enough to indulge me with several unwritten stories and character links through a few lengthy phone conversations, emails and that one brief afternoon at Ditch Plains.

In all, he had given me hours of his time. I loved the book and, to be fair, am an unabashed fan of his works. All of them. His style and approach are always explained in notes and newsletters, and only improve his works once you understand his writing methodology. I placed a review of In Search of Captain Zero in Surfnews Magazine and received lots of feedback, almost all positive. Weisbecker became a widespread name and a sort of surf folk hero, if you liked him. Not all did.

I went to Pavones in 2001 and met with him there at his new home and he seemed squirmy and elusive. I was worried about him, but not close enough with him to find out what was really wrong.

We stayed in loose contact through email until I went back to Costa Rica in 2005, contacting him about staying at the guest house on his property. He wouldn’t be there, but asked me to check on his place for him, make sure everything was safe. Not knowing any better, I agreed to help him out…

I never made it to Pavones on that 2nd trip; the waves were perfect in Dominical and it was very rainy, making the drive South dicey. Lucky for me, or I may have walked directly into a grizzly scene from Can’t You Get Along With Anyone?.

Cut to the chase, we remained friendly over the years, and Allan has been extremely helpful to my writing endeavors. With his support I approached and gained entry into the Surfers Journal. I did a review of CYGAWA? for the Journal which Allan didn’t like, but he still granted me an exclusive interview, the first in reaction to CYGAWA? long before it hit the mainstream press. I read the first ARC (advanced reading copy) and interviewed him on a crisp 3-4 foot day in Montauk, NY at Gurney’s Inn just after its small release through Humdrumming Books, UK.

Thank you for all the help and support over the years Allan, Keep The Faith.

A conversation with Allan Weisbecker, October, 2006

Jeff Schad: Most readers will recognize you as the author of In Search of Captain Zero – your surf journey through Central America in search of an old surfbuddy missing in action. Now you’ve released your new book, Can’t You Get Along With Anyone? A Writer’s Memoir, and a Tale of a Lost Surfer’s Paradise. What’s changed about you since then?

Allan C. Weisbecker: Not sure how I’ve changed. “A sadder and a wiser man he rose the ‘morrow morn,” which is from Coleridge, comes to mind, or should. But as Kurt Vonnegut has said, “People don’t change, don’t apologize, and don’t learn anything.” This probably applies to me as much or more than anyone. At least the changing and learning parts. I’ve never had a problem with apologies.

I’ll no doubt just continue stumbling and bumbling through life, putting myself in precarious places, rising sadder if not wiser, as always.

JS: You certainly found yourself in a few precarious places, as described in the book.

ACW: Yes, both through circumstances beyond my control and through not paying sufficient attention to what was going on around me. When I was younger there was also the illusion that I was invincible, which was at least partially a result of the old North Shore (of Oahu) aphorism, “Surfers can do anything.” That dumb-ass sort of attitude will put you in some hairball situations, and not just in the water.

JS: Give us an example.

ACW: Morocco, 1970. A surfbuddy and I went there after our house on the North Shore was destroyed, demolished, with us in it, by the biggest swell to ever hit the Hawaiian Islands. (That we emerged from the destruction without a scratch was predictable – in our deranged minds.)

In order to keep surfing (getting-a-job avoidance) we just automatically got into hashish smuggling. Didn’t even occur to us that something bad might happen.

JS: Did something bad happen?

ACW: Of course not. We were too young and stupid for anything bad to happen. The bad stuff came later, after I smartened up a little. Not much, actually. A real little.

JS: Can’t You Get Along With Anyone? A Writer’s Memoir, and a Tale of a Lost Surfer’s Paradise is the sequel to Zero, correct?

ACW: Yes. Although I futz with chronological structure, the story starts the day after Zero ended, when I left my old buddy and essentially found the surf paradise I was looking for.

JS: Which was where?

At the end of the road at the bottom of Central America. A place called Pavones (Spanish for “Big Turkeys”), on the Pacific side of Costa Rica. Home of possibly the longest point break in the Northern Hemisphere.

Click here for an excerpt: “A Night at the Cantina”, for more perspective on Pavones from ACW.

JS: Where did you get the title Can’t You Get Along With Anyone?

ACW: It was the body of the email I got from my movie-writing agent as a result of my firing her for her behavior during the In Search of Captain Zero movie deal. I suspect that there is some negative subtext in her question, but book titles are where you find them and I’ll always be grateful for this one.

JS: It’s another surfy memoir.

ACW: After Zero I thought my memoir-writing days were over. As it turned out, what was coming makes Zero look like Fun With Dick and Jane.

JS: What makes the book tick?

ACW: Escalating deceit and treachery. On another level of that, it’s a look at the idea of finding a “paradise,” surf or otherwise. The reality as opposed to the myth. The types of people who show up in unspoiled places, with or without perfect waves. The agendas that surface, the sorts of pecking order games that emerge, and so forth. In the case of one person’s agenda, what happens when you’re faced with treachery that quite literally has no limits. What happens when meaningful options diminish to zero. What happens when you reach a personal End of the Line.

The book also deals with the writing process, the obsession and pain a writer goes through in his work. The cover design, with my bleeding forehead, is illustrative of that. Comes from a quote from the writer Gene Fowler. “Writing is easy. You just stare at the blank page until your forehead bleeds.” My forehead did some bleeding during the writing of this one.

JS: There are a lot of subplots, or through-lines, in the book. The story of the movie deals on your other two books is an offshoot of the writing-about-writing aspect, correct?

ACW: Yes, and a bit of comic relief from the bizarre relentlessness of the other through-lines.

JS: Your other books have been optioned by major movie stars. Sean Penn for Zero and John Cusack for your cult comedy, Cosmic Banditos.

ACW: Right.

JS: Since Zero is a memoir and Banditos an autobiographical novel, in essence these two mega-stars want to play you. Heady stuff.

ACW: It becomes a little less heady when you examine how the deals went. Penn, for example, never read the book he wanted to make a movie out of.

JS: How could that be?

ACW: Nor did he read the screenplay adaptation I was paid 200 grand to write. This is the producer of the project, keep in mind.

JS: He didn’t read either the book or the screenplay?

ACW: He spent more time writing me emails explaining why he wasn’t going to read than it would have taken to do the reading. I’m not kidding. I reproduce his comical emails in the book.

JS: What was the upshot?

ACW: Sean got upset with me for in effect pointing out how far his head is up his ass and in his last email wished me “something resembling death.”

JS: How did it go with Cusack?

ACW: I had to physically threaten him to get money owed on the deal.

JS: Come again?

ACW: It’s a bizarre story – also in the book – and as utterly evocative of the way Hollywood is as the Penn fiasco. I should say, however, that Cusack himself was not at the bottom of the problem, but rather it was a dishonest lawyer (sorry for the redundancy). John and I kissed and made up and all is fine between us. Good thing, too, since he’s a kickboxer and likely would have beat the shit out of me had the situation gone really sour.

In fact, I have high hopes that Cosmic Banditos will eventually make it to the screen.

JS: You describe Banditos as “a goofball comedy about The Meaning of Life.” How did that book come about?

ACW: In 1981 I did a classic segue-free transition, went from big time international criminal to Hollywood screenwriter. Almost literally overnight I went from barrel-rolling my Learjet over Colombian pot plantations to working with the likes of Michael Mann (Miami Vice, The Insider, Last of the Mohicans, etc.) and Robert Chartoff (Rocky, Raging Bull, The Right Stuff, etc.).

I knew I had to write about the decade of the 1970s, my lunatic life. It started out with an unbalanced expat fugitive hiding out in the jungles of South America (me, more or less) and naturally became a comedy about subatomic particle physics, a full-blown bandito named Jose, a nymphomaniac, a large dog who’d had a depraved puppyhood, and, of course, The Meaning of Life. I mean, these elements were inevitable, if you think about it, given the overall subject matter.

JS: Not really sure about that.

ACW: How else could it have gone? You tell me.

JS: Speaking of segues and of comedy…

ACW: With The Meaning of Life aspect, there is naturally a lot of tequila consumed and hand grenades thrown. Or accidentally dropped.

JS: In your new book…

ACW: As one of the more unbalanced characters points out, “It amazing how a violent explosion in a confined area will separate the men from the boys.”

JS: Speaking of segues and of comedy, in your new book you somehow work genuine belly laughs into the story of the “fiascos and catastrophic shit” you were relentlessly subjected to in your “sorry ass life and times.”

ACW: It was either see the humor in it or blow my brains out. Given that choice, what would you do?

JS: Never mind that…

ACW: Also, at a certain point relentlessness itself can become comedic. I remember one time I got caught in the boneyard at Sunset Beach in Hawaii on a rising swell and the way the sets just kept landing on my head I eventually found myself cackling at the ridiculousness of it. That sort of relentlessness. Like, “How the fuck did I get into this mess?”

JS: Speaking of segues and catastrophic shit…

ACW: There’s also the through-line about the getting it published. “It” meaning the book I was writing at the time and the reader (later, of course) is now reading. Is that what you were thinking? Sorry to interrupt, but that’s on my mind right now.

JS: Your no… nicer…to the publishing business than you are to Hollywood.

ACW: I’ve burned a lot of bridges with this book. I’m talking major conflagrations here. Hey, I burned bridges that I’ve never even crossed. I’m a bridge burning kind of guy.

JS: With predictable results, right?

ACW: One predictable result has been a problem finding a U.S. publisher, or even an agent, since I fired the last 27 agents that I had. No, wait. Twenty-eight.

JS: The book is in print in the UK, though.

ACW: Bizarre how that came about. Last summer some lunatics in Canada launched a stage production of Cosmic Banditos. Right. A play. I shit you not. My goofball comedy about The Meaning of Life ran for ten days at an arts festival in Vancouver. And it was a hit! They were rolling in the aisles, apparently. It was also reviewed by some nutcase up there. A smart, literate nutcase. Turned out he was connected with this Brit publisher. One thing led to another and boom! Can’t You Get Along With Anyone? found the light of print.

JS: Since your two other books are selling very well…

ACW: Last time I checked they were both outselling the Stephen King novel that was published at the same time.

JS: So why wouldn’t your old publisher (Penguin Putnam) publish the new one?

ACW: You read it, right?

JS: Right. You do happen to mention them.

ACW: Can’t I get along with anyone?

JS: There’s another segue here, I think… To the love of your life.

ACW: I don’t want to give away too much about the book, but the through-line that emerges as dominant has to do with male/female relationships. Right: Speaking of fiascos and catastrophic shit and wave sets landing on your head and blowing your brains out. And, again, the idea of paradise, as opposed to the reality.

JS: On the surface of it, you had it all, didn’t you?

ACW: Sure did. Two successful books, movie deals, famous actors wanting to play me, a gorgeous home I built within walking distance of my own semi-private warm water perfect wave in paradise, plus a beautiful, very sexy woman who surfs and was totally in love with my sorry ass. At 55 years old, I finally had it all. The Endless Summer meets 9 1/2 Weeks…

JS: Then?

ACW: Pulp Fiction showed up.

JS: There were warnings, though.

ACW: There were warnings all right… Had I been paying attention.

JS: In the book you talk a lot about paying attention.

ACW: An underlying theme is that people do not really pay attention to what’s really going on around them. Metaphorically, dawdling around at Waimea without keeping an eye on the outside. This applies to their personal lives as well as world affairs, whatever.

JS: You don’t have a lot of respect for our current president (Ed note: George W was in office at time of interview).

ACW: The book starts contemporaneously with the invasion of Iraq. As it turned out, this was convenient, in terms of symmetry: The greed and deceit and treachery, the death and misery, the incessant lies, the levels of denial everyone was living under.

JS: The war in Iraq–

ACW: I was talking about my personal life.

JS: Okay.

ACW: I suspect that our current president has a suite reserved for my sorry ass at Guantanamo. Do you know if there’s surf on that part of Cuba?

JS: Not sure. But moving on, give an example of your paying attention powers. Or lack of them, in your personal life.

ACW: In 1998 at Pavones, right after the fiasco that was the ending of In Search of Captain Zero, I investigated the shootout killing of an American expat named Max Dalton. This was for Men’s Journal magazine. When I returned to Pavones in 2001, I sort of forgot about the stuff I’d uncovered in ’98. Sort of forgot about the death threats I’d gotten and how I was armed to the teeth and how everybody lied about everything and how it was every man for himself down there in surf paradise. I wasn’t paying attention.

Hey. I forgot!

JS: You reprise the story of the Dalton murder investigation for CYGAWA.

ACW: I hadn’t planned on doing that but then the murder investigation and other events from ’98 came back to bite me on my ass, and did so in a way I could never have seen coming. In fact, I couldn’t have made up the shit that happened in my wildest fiction dreams. The section is also an object lesson in how it goes when greed descends on a perfect wave. One upshot of the investigation was that “it was the wave here that killed Max.”

JS: I understand you’ve sold your house and property in Pavones. Ever going back?

ACW: Possibly. When I’m tired of being alive on planet earth.

JS: You’ve got one of your lists regarding this, right? Like the list of women you’ve had sex with? In this case, it’s who’ll be out for revenge on….

ACW: You can say it. “On my sorry ass.”

JS:…revenge on your sorry ass.

ACW: Yeah, and that list is pretty long. Not as long as the Women I’ve Had Sex With List, thank God, but pretty long. Come to think of it, though, there’s one person who is on both lists.

JS: Care to name names?

ACW: No, but here’s a related question I’ve been mulling: What do you think Sean Penn meant when he wished me “something resembling death”? I mean what resembles death, aside from the dirt nap itself?

#

Click here to go to a short excerpt from Can’t You Get Along With Anyone? A Writer’s Memoir, and a Tale of a Lost Surfer’s Paradise.

May 10, 2009, 9:50 pm : New York Surf Film Festival 2009 Announces Judging Panel

Filed Under: Events, Imagery, News, Surfing
Discussion: C[1]mments

Building on a premier success, the New York Surf Film Festival has announced a stellar mix of surf emissaries with various perspectives on surf visual arts. The 2009 judging panel includes luminary shaper Tom Parrish, garish yet brutally honest former Surfline Editor of the Power Rankings Lewis Samuels (formerly Surline’s best feature, now posted up at PostSurf.com),  Long Island stalwart Charlie Bunger Jr., respected editor Alex Dick-Reade, and Long Island classic Mike Becker.

Good choices all, and the rest of the cast include surf writer Thad Ziolkowski, who did a strong exploration into surf literature with his debut effort, On A Wave; Alex Karinsky, who lives and breathes New York City surfing and keeps the spark lit, artist Todd Di Ciurcio, a Pennsylvania turned Brooklyn native artist and surfer, and a few others whose resumes I am not familiar with.

But very impressive. Tom Parish? Litmus Trip Tom Parish. That is incredible, kind of like having Mickey Mantle coach your amateur baseball team, or something. I mean, the guy was responsible for shaping boards for the best pros at the most robust time in professional surfing. He has seen and done it and now practices law on Maui.

Also, information I have points to a very big announcement at this years New York Surf Film Festival.

May 4, 2009, 11:27 am : ASP Tour Roundup After Bells Beach - Contest 2 of 10

Filed Under: Uncategorized
Discussion: C[0]mments

As if title #10 should be a cakewalk for Kelly Slater, the Australian leg of the tour and its constituency made it clear that would not be the case in 2009. Going into the season the media made it out to be a matter of what contest Slater will clinch his tenth rather than if he can. Slatermaniacs can cry foul judging and unfair nationalist bias, but Joel Parkinson came out the clear winner on the Gold Coast and at Bells Beach, where he took out impressive local wildcard Adam Robertson in the final. Important to point out is the point that Parko’s run had nothing to do with Slater’s losses in either match; bowing out to Julian Wilson for his first of a pair of seventeenth place finishes, then choked out by Owen Wright at Bells. Both victors were wildcards, and Slater really didn’t muster any waves of incredulity. He looked rather normal, almost vulnerable.

Yet the season is early, and Slater is by no means out of the race. He’s made it clear that he can run off regular strings of event wins, but Parko’s two wins in two starts puts him in control of his own fate for the rest of the season. That’s how it is when everyone else has to look up at you. It will be interesting to see how Parko will handle the pressure he will face. Inside reports have him more confident than ever, and focusing on his game more than in past years. This could be the year for the smooth-styled Aussie, but there is plenty of grind left to go.

Other throughlines from the first two contests include a couple of guys with surprising starts and the new format, which was revealed for the first time at Bells.

On the former, Fred Patacchia and Jordy Smith stand out with both surfers sitting in equal 3rd position. Smith seems to have found the confidence he didn’t have last year, and looks to fill the expectations the media has lumped on him. Patacchia is more of a surprise because of the difficulty goofy footers have surfing two different and tricky righthanders to start the season. This bodes well for Patacchia going into Teahupoo, as the Hawaiian loves dangerous left hand barrels. Another surfer who has gotten off to a surprisingly good start is Jihad Kodr. The Brazilian was the brunt of much derision last year, getting waxed in almost every heat, but it seems he figured it out between then and now, sitting in equal 14th place. Maybe not for long going into Teahupoo, since he has shown no forte for nasty reef barrels. Maybe he learned how to chuck himself over the ledge into life-threatening situations too, but that’s doubtful.
Parko claims victory at Bells (Getty Images: Lucas Dawson)

With the launching of the new format there is no more losers round, it’s all sudden elimination. Surfers seeded 1-16 are placed directly into round two, while the remaining 29 Tour surfers and three wildcards duke it out in round one. The format eliminates 16 heats from the schedule, allowing the contest to run in three days rather than four. More chance to score good waves for the entire contest, perhaps, if its done right. While the original format wasn’t used for the Gold Coast, it was at Bells, with the first round being run in crap waves. As can be expected in conditions like that, luck won out more than skill, turning the brackets upside down as some big names went down early (e.g. Dane Reynolds).

It will be interesting to see what the ASP will do for the remainder of the season. There has been lots of noise made by the surfers against the format. The change is really about $$$ more than anything else, since less contest days means less overall expense. Time will tell, but it is interesting that the ASP has allegedly abandoned the idea of moving to a one tier system (meaning all surfers counted in a single rating system, rather than World Tour and Qualifying Tour being separate). Word has it that implementing it would bring lawsuits from several surfers who have major cash incentives in their sponsor contracts for being on the World Tour, and they could feasibly lose out due to lack of definition between the two tours and their contract language.

Once again, Ace Buchan wrapped up his first hand account of Bells on his Surfline blog. Keep it up mate; good work.

And Lewis Samuels hasn’t let his firing from Surfline dim the sharpness of his pen. Actually he has gotten edgier to the point of excess, but hey at least he’s entertaining. Here’s the links to his non-Surfline-edited power rankings (Surfline has continued with their own version, but to wit, it’s worthless. Enough said):

1 - 5
6 -10
11 - 15
16 - 21
22 - 27
28 - 33
34 - 39
40 - 45

Here’s looking forward to Teahupoo, where hopefully my Fantasy Surfer team can make a miraculous comeback after taking the pipe in the first two go’rounds.

April 25, 2009, 9:26 pm : Get from Moosejaw, SK to Camden Yards

Filed Under: Uncategorized
Discussion: C[0]mments

Hmm, only a day and 7 hours. Why not take in a game? If you’re from Moosejaw. See you soon Chef Corbett.
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April 23, 2009, 11:03 am : New Gig - Baltimore Band Examiner

Filed Under: Album Reviews, Band Reviews, Genres and Styles, Music, Show Reviews and Stories, Upcoming Shows
Discussion: C[0]mments

As if one blog isn’t enough, I recently signed on to cover Baltimore bands for Examiner.com. Head on over and have a read of my first collection of posts. I suppose I shouldn’t call it an official blog; the editors were clear that we were to be “examiners,” self-proclaimed subject matter experts in our given areas. So yup, I’m your new Baltimore Band Expert. Actually, it is a natural fit. The Eds also let us know (when I say “us” I refer to all Examiners) not to post like its a blog, meaning no “I’s” or “me’s”. Fine. Newsworthy items with a news-coverage angle. There is one confusing aspect: having more than one band examiner for Baltimore. She seems like she’s off to a good start, but comon; following my post on free shows in and around the area with this? Oh well, this town can handle a duck and a martian. I suppose that is my welcome to the Baltimore Beehive. Ok. Well I just wanted to announce the new assignment and get that off my chest. Now back to regular programming.

Remember this episode? Duck diplomacy or get off my rock?

April 12, 2009, 12:02 pm : That Day at Cane Garden Bay and Seeing David Carson

Filed Under: Biography, Imagery, Surfing, Travel Tales
Discussion: C[3]mments

Heard of Tortola? Maybe, maybe not; but most surfers out there have. It’s because Cane Garden Bay became a known entity on a very short list-the Holy Grail of Caribbean Wave Perfection. Etched next to spots like Soup Bowls, and perhaps Gas Chambers and Chatarra, there aren’t many more that are widely known. Not to say that the Caribbean basin isn’t littered with waves, but it takes a powerful swell and atypical winds to get many spots going.

A combination of many factors must merge for Cane Garden Bay (CGB) to show its face. Some winters, the wave will rarely come to life. A word here on CGB: It’s a shame the place was let out through the surf media in the first place. It’s somewhat of a rare bird, and should you catch it good, respect the locals. Some of them have dedicated their lives to the wave.

Cane Garden Bay

Which brings me to my Day at Cane Garden Bay, and seeing David Carson.

Who? David Carson is a graphic design master, widely known throughout the World for his completely unique approach to his work. Previously a professional surfer and art director of Surfer Magazine, leading the mag to radical new ground in design and layout concepts.

Carson also loves and lives (some of the time, as far as I know) on the point at Cane Garden Bay. If you catch the place breaking at the right time, you may see him in the lineup. Like I did. Watching him surf that day led me to the most damaging wipeout of my life. A fate that should have been unmet, had I only heeded the warnings of a local Rasta.

Gas Chambers, Puerto Rico

I had been to Tortola once before, hopping over on a flight from San Juan during a trip to Puerto Rico. I wanted to get over there for a day or two and just check it out. The waves hadn’t been great in Rincon, so even if Tortola was flat, it would be cool to see it, say I was there. Heck, no surf? Just go to the Bomba Shack and sip a rum punch overlooking Apple Bay, a playful reef break, and watch the sun set, turning the ocean from the clearest bubbly soda aquarium to a golden-silver that is equally brilliant.

That first trip, Cane didn’t break, but my Pilot buddy and I surfed Apple Bay. He mangled his foot on a rare rough patch of reef on the Inside of Apple Bay, but lived. Luckily he missed the Urchins. We spent two days surfing Apples, driving around, eating and swimming. All of our dozen or so drive-bys of CGB revealed a perfect 6 inch swell grinding into dry reef. Perfect microwaves, not surfable.

I went back four winters later to celebrate my 25th birthday and try my luck at catching this Gem of a wave. Flying over the North coast of the island, the view below revealed a nice, even swell popping off on various reefs, all pretty much ripped up from the tradewinds. CGB was definitely breaking, but perhaps not big enough, since the swell was very Northeast and not wrapping in just right.

Straight off the plane (and waiting for the next arrival, which had my boardbag. A common thing on the tiny planes that fly into tiny Beef Island Airport), I drove to CGB first. It was peeling off the end of the bend in the point for a rolly, kinda dribbly 4-5 feet and empty. Not epic, but enticing enough to give the place a try. After all, how many times are you going to catch a place like this empty? Not often, my friend.

The gravel parking lot fronted a shack of sorts, with a small yard being tended by a local Rastafarian. “You goo’on surf point, eh? Surf dat end section dere, brueddah. Don’ surf up deh point, too shallow and fire coral eat ya’live,” he offered.

Heeding his advice, I plucked my red 6′6″ from the top of the rental and hopped in from the cement dock below the point. A short paddle later, I was lined up right where a medium-sized set broke while I was hopping in. With about 45 minutes of light left, the ocean was getting that tinted gold-silver look. As I peered up the point in the fading light and waited for a set to swing down, I saw David Carson out on a wide fish shape of some kind. He sat right where the Rasta warned not to, and caught these chest high zippers reeling 10 yards from the rocks and coral along the point, over an evidently nasty reef.

Acting on the Rasta’s advice, I stayed along the end section and picked up a half dozen rolly point waves that went for just 50-75 yards before petering out in deep water. They were fun, but nothing compared to the speed runs Carson was committing up the point. With the sun draining into the sea to the West, I let the current pull me up the point (a blessing and a curse depending on your level of comfort in surfing over urchin-infested fire coral), right to where Carson was lined up. The bigger set waves would hit out here and barrel down the point.If one and their board were fast enough, one could score one of these sweet barrels and peer right out at the setting sun while flying toward it.

I was lured. Lured by Carson and his knowledge of wave picking at CGB. By those perfect little barrels. By the prospect of grabbing one, just one, and surfing it through the soft end section, then styling back up to the cement dock and heading to the guest house stoked.

Catching one was easy, as I flew down the line on a speed run that got the pulse up, but no barrel. I kicked out the back and slowly paddled back, when another wave came grinding down, setting up to let me in to one of those barrels. I spun and went, dropping in fast to a running barrel that kept me slotted for 10-15 yards of a sunset view before walling up and going dry on the reef right in front of me. Dry fire coral heads stuck 2-3 inches out of the water, now unavoidably in front of me. I clung to the wall to stop all forward momentum while trying to contort through the wave’s face. This was bad. At the very least I had time to think and decide that diving head first in any way could end catastrophically. My board endured dry reef contact just before I was driven into and dragged over a bed of fire coral and Urchins. The wave left me flailing like this, having to either climb back on my board and hop-skip back out to deeper water and paddle in, several places on my body oozing blood, or crawl over the rest of the coral-urchin minefield to the shore. I crawled.

I made it in on feet that were now covered in black spots from the urchin spines that had snapped off. Leaving a trail of blood on the rocks I painfully stomped over, I made it to the car and drive back to the room. A look in the mirror revealed that I had torn lots skin from my arms, legs and back. I cleaned my entire body with peroxide and lime juice, then performed the excruciating task of pulling out as many urchin spines as I could. They were embedded everywhere, and I lost count after 100 something.

The rest of the trip I surfed in pain, as the salt water would make my entire skin bark from the sting. Was it worth it to get that sunset barrel. Now I say yes. Should I have not strayed from that end takeoff spot? Probably, to save my hyde. Perhaps watching Design Master Carson demonstrate his homebreak knowlesge was a better bet, but I never talked to the guy, we were never close in the lineup. So, in order to get a better story from it, I decided to filet and pin-cushion myself. But I’ll have barrel view etched in my mind forever.