No. 30: The Surfer’s Journal: June/July 2020

I'll have what they're having

If there’s any consistent theme to find throughout this issue, it’s that there are many aspects of surfing and the ocean that people can, and have, consume themselves with. Whether it’s shaping, photography, travel, history, hell, even this abstract surfboard art on this very cover, has been studied and embraced by surfers worldwide. 

All of those aforementioned topics are present in The Surfer’s Journal time and again. As is often the case with this publication, when I flipped through these pages I began to wonder how I would encompass such a broad range of topics into a single post. With Surfer and Surfing, it’s mostly the same genre sliced into a few different chapters. With TSJ, it’s like unpacking a cornucopia of stories from walks of life as varied as an encyclopedia. 

The renowned science-fiction writer Arthur C. Clarke once said, “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic”. Donald Brink, a shaping guru based in Southern California, is hellbent on delivering magic through highly advanced surf craft. Originally hailing from South Africa, Brink is a master craftsman and artist. But at his core, he is a natural experimenter. 

In his shaping bay strewn with all manner of tools, fiberglass and resin, Brink tests the resonance and frequency of his boards. Not the feel of the material, but how that material sounds. The frequency of the surfboard, or “the rate at which a vibration in wave form either in a material or in an electromagnetic field” is measured in hertz. By reimagining the lamination and resin-curing process inside heated containers, Brink hopes to dial in the science behind “magic boards” and recreate the same flex and twist in each of his products. 

If it’s an adventure you crave, you’d be hard-pressed to find a more capable duo than the Higginbotham brothers. “By Hand” tells the journey of Ryan and Casey, two Pismo Beach lifeguards whose thrift for travel had them paddling with their own two hands, unassisted, from Alaska to the Mexican border. Yes, you read that right. The two 22-year-old brothers paddled on prone boards down the west coast of most of North America, more than 2,200 miles. Their GPS died within a week and they used navigational charts and a compass to find their way. They brought a shotgun to fend off bears, broke one board and floated past sharks while maneuvering through 20-foot tides and horrendous currents in the Pacific Northwest. 

Once they made it past Point Conception, things got a bit easier. It took them seven months to make it to Ketchikan, Alaska, to the southern end of California. After a two-year break, they finished the last leg of their journey, an 82-day, 1,100-mile jaunt down to Cabo. 

“It took us two years to forget how miserable the first trip was,” Ryan said. “But after a while it becomes normal, almost routine. Eventually, I think you get comfortable living in that environment.” If you say so, Ryan. 

Quotable:

“I’ve surfed Margaret River and Mundaka, the full-length left at Chicama and the forever-right at Noosa, hurricane swells and ankle chop at my local. I can surf. So it’s humiliating to arrive in Middle America and not be able to hand either 2-foot wave.” — Noah Lederman 

Notable:

“The Eye of the Hunter”

I’m not sure if Derek Dunfee is a cautionary tale, but he’s certainly an interesting tale. A talented big-wave surfer who now uses his expertise and experience to photograph the same waves that have damaged his mind. Sounds like a story. Big-wave surfing is not a career associated with longevity and Dunfee suffered numerous injuries and concussions for his endeavors. Eventually, a few years after slamming his head into the reef at Cloudbreak 20212, Dunfee transitioned from surfing huge waves to documenting them. He’s still immersed in what he loves. It’s still dangerous, but with substantially less risk than before. With a camera and housing in tow, Dunfee uses his knowledge of waves, swell and the community of chargers he’s a part of to be a frontline lensman in some of the biggest lineups in the world. 

“The Surf Gods of Idaho”

You knew Boise was a thriving surf town, right? Yeah, me neither. Noah Lederman offers his humorous and humble experience surfing a man-made river wave in Idaho. He shares the free-flowing dialogue between the locals before they catch a wave, not unlike any lineup across the world, except there seems to be less angsty and more open when you’re waiting your turn on concrete rather than bobbing in the current at your local. But unlike your local, Boise has a “wave master” by the name of Primus, who adjusts the flow levels at two different waves on the river. The surfers ride undersized grom boards because who needs paddle power inland. Lederman breaks down the history of Boise’s downtown Whitewater Park and the intricacies of surfing a wave flowing backward. For something that seems so familiar, there’s an awful lot of new challenges for an experienced surfer. But at the end of the day, even if that day is spent nine hours from the nearest ocean, it’s that challenge that makes a good ride.