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October 2006 Issue
Coasting: A Big Sur Snapshot
Written and Photgraphed by Michael Kew
“Me drunk practically all the time to put on a jovial cap to keep up with all of this but finally realizing I was surrounded and outnumbered and had to get away to solitude or die—” Jack Kerouac, Big Sur, c. 1961
The late Kerouac and I have had much in common, though he was a socialite and I’m a loner—by nature, writers are solitary souls. But the boozing, the women, the loose carousing with strangers in strange places—what was all of that? Here, for Jack nearly a half-century ago, it was but a rural respite.
Shrill of crickets, muted surf, crackle and hiss of a smoky campfire—this was an October night in south Monterey County, darkness dissolved by the waxing moon, filtered between boughs of pine and twisted cypress.
After dinner, with pen and paper, I was drunk but indeed working, wearing my jovial cap, much like Kerouac when he visited his friend in Bixby Canyon, thirty-five miles north of my grassy campground. Writing in a seaside forest on a cold mid-week night harkens back to an era of different auras, like Kerouac’s in 1961, with red wine and damp air holding thoughts and focus to ground level. For a coast that welcomes four million annual visitors, there is immense value to such peace.
I put another log in the fire and squinted at the flames, the heat warming my face, listening to the communications of owls and bats and crickets around me. One of life’s finest scents is that of a healthy woodfire, snapping brightly into the night sky, lending comfort and warmth, stoking a writer’s thirst for privacy and introspection.
There was sleep disturbance at 2 a.m. In the nearby cove, a regular thundercrack promised that there were waves to be ridden come daylight. Where remained the question, because Big Sur’s jagged coast, from Carmel to Carpoforo, presents some of America’s most complex geology, detailed in Paul Henson’s The Natural History Of Big Sur:
Diverse rocks that formed under radically varied conditions are now mixed together in jumbled disorder. A complex network of faults fractures the range and blocks of rock have moved great distances along this network, further complicating the picture.
Big Sur could be networked also by woodsmoke, morning dew on green campground grass, loud surf, birdsong, and the sweet, earthy smells of the forest: fir, sap, moss, fungus, dusty poison oak, sagebrush, ripe berries, decayed, spongy bark, and the palpable stillness of wood.
Come dawn it was a sunny Thursday—crisp, windless, the sky vast. Songbirds and woodpeckers fussed in the trees. Soon, at the nearby school, small rural children would yak before the first class bell rang.
Imagine your life as a child in Big Sur—Monterey as New York City and Carmel as Manhattan. To the south lay the urban sprawl of San Luis Obispo and Morro Bay, and before you lay two hundred and fifty square miles of wilderness, the only land you could ever trust.
I finished my coffee, packed the car, and headed down the coast. Highway 1 was deserted. The first spot I checked was misty and equally empty, warbly with the high tide, bullwhip kelp clogging the lineup. Night had delivered the season’s first real swell, the reef here at last redeemed from the flat months of summer.
A faded blue pickup truck pulled up beside me. Its driver was Billy, a ragged diesel mechanic, age forty-six, in overalls and a flannel shirt, short and stocky, with frizzy red hair and a round, bearded face punctured by two sensationally bloodshot eyes. He looked like an Irish sailor and reeked of sweat. He was smoking a joint. In his truck bed was a red 7’10” pintail. “My winter special,” he said.
For the last twenty years Billy had lived in a shack near the tiny retail strip at Gorda. I said I had been camping nearby for the past several days.
“People are always trying to get me to go camp out,” he said, watching the waves, his faced shaded by his faded blue baseball cap. “But I live under the trees, off mountain water, off my generator and kerosene lamps. I camp out every day.”
This day he left his shack at dawn to look for surf, first stopping at a beachbreak that was unsurfable because the swell was too big. At least twice weekly, he drove up to Santa Cruz, a two-hundred-mile round-trip and several hours spent in the car..
“That’s a lot of driving just to surf,” I said.
“Yes, but the wind skirts the shit out of this place every day,” he said, raising his voice, lifting his cap and rubbing his forehead. “It starts at about ten-thirty in the morning, as soon as the sun heats up the land.”
“You must surf early most of the time, then.”
He scratched an eyebrow. Then he sucked on the joint, held the smoke in his lungs for a moment, and blew it at the gulls above us. “It’s just such a waste of time checking all these spots, and then checking Carmel and the whole Monterey Peninsula. So I say screw it—just drive straight to Santa Cruz. Start at the east side and head north until I find a break. I’m telling you, ninety-eight percent of the time I go to Santa Cruz, I surf. Whereas here in Big Sur, okay, I go to the north end, which has, like, two fickle surf spots. And then down the coast, to this area, if there’s any waves here. If not, then I go down to San Simeon, which is always windy. And it’s like, what’d I just drive? Four hours to get shut out?”
“So being a surfer here is frustrating.”
“It is for me.”
“Why don’t you move elsewhere?”
“That’s too easy.”
Despite the surfable waves in front of us, Billy left, probably bound for Santa Cruz, and I was again alone in the tiny parking lot. Gulls spiraled above, squawking at each other. As I considered the afternoon’s combination of tide, wind, and swell, an abrupt onshore breeze pushed fog in from the west, the sea’s greeny-blue vanishing within minutes. With that, I decided to bushwhack out to a little-known reefbreak in a tiny cliff-shrouded cove not far up the coast.
There the sea was sheet glass, and the inconsistent head-high peaks, tripped by shallow reef, pitched mere yards from black boulders lining the shore. Of course, ill-placed rocks are the bane of the Big Sur surfer’s existence; a friend of mine once said that, wave-quality wise, the place is a million years from perfection.
The rides were brief but steep and challenging. Surfing backside, I had a good view of the rocks I would hit if I fell. The waves were laced with boils and kelp, but it was the kelp that kept the sea glassy, and sitting in the water between waves, I reflected about how special the whole experience was, surfing a hidden reef on a foggy weekday in remote Central California.
After the session, stuffing my board into the back of the small rented car, I was approached by a Spandexed pair of skinny Asian male cyclists. They were riding the length of Highway 1 from San Francisco to San Luis Obispo, a dangerous trip, especially through Big Sur.
“I didn’t know there was a surf break here,” one of them said. “Is it good?”
“Rarely.”
His friend laughed. “Barely or rarely?”
“Same thing.”
“Where is the spot?”
I said, “You must be kidding.”
Cold and hungry and wanting to flee the fog, I drove north to a campground along the leafy banks of the Big Sur River. By nightfall I had made another fire with eucalyptus kindling and hunks of fir, crackling and spattering while I sat on a stump, swigging from a bottle of cheap merlot. Only the racket of crickets for sound, with the occasional frog and the shooshing of wind through the redwoods. The fire boosted my spirits, chilly from the day, the torquing oranges and yellows thinning the darkness of my private campsite.
An hour later the sky opened, stars winking between shreds of cloud, framed by the trees and the silhouetted Santa Lucia Range. Eventually the fire reduced itself to a gentle murmur of ash, sparks rising in the smoke. The wine drowsed me, and as the clouds again claimed the sky, I thought of tomorrow.
Big Sur’s natural world speaks loudest, I wrote in a notebook while cocooned in my down bag, minutes from sleep. Its animals, its trees, its cliffs, its sea. There is nothing else. A soul’s sanctity is born from not what is created, but what is innately inherited from eons of living time—a lifetime. A metaphor, Big Sur is life. And so existing here, ultimately, is a white canvas, a surfer’s life the everlasting watercolor.
Posted October 2006 Blue Edge Magazine. All rights reserved.
BY Terry Lilley
It was a warm August day in Shell Beach, CA, and I decided to go spear fishing in front of my house for dinner. I'm a marine biologist and I live on a stretch of Central California that still has fish, seals, lobster, abalone and sharks. My small house is only a few yards away from a beautiful cove blanketed by a thick kelp bed just off the beach. During the summer I paddle my kayak and scuba dive to fill my freezer with fresh lingcod, cabezon, rock fish and an occasional halibut. I enjoy sharing the abundant catch with my neighbors as I grew up in a Hawaiian culture where we share our food as a gift from the ocean. My Aumakua (spirit keeper and educator) is the shark. I have dove in Kauai with large tiger sharks, in Fiji with a school of 800 lb bull sharks and in Costa Rica with the biggest white tipped reef sharks I have ever seen but nothing prepared me for what I was about to experience in front of my house. I remember my father who was a great waterman and loved sharks, tell me "be careful for what you ask for, it may come true and then you'll need to deal with it!”
( 17 foot White phtotographed 200 yards off Anacapa Island. The shark was munching a filet from a whale that was caught in a commercial fishing net. Photo: David Lominkska)
Wavelenghts: South County Cruising with Bob Byrne
Text and Photographs By Michael Kew
Bob Byrne is a southern San Luis Obispo County mainstay, having spent the majority of his 49 years haunting the funky reefs and beachbreaks around Pismo, raiding the rivermouth sandbars at Guadalupe, and reaping the halcyon glory days out at mystic Point Sal. Currently living in Nipomo, the 32-year South County local says he is ideally and centrally located to unsheathe one of his slick Cooperfishes and score the best Central Coast surf on any given day—that is, when he’s not shackled to his desk job in Arroyo Grande.
Amid the late-summer doldrums, I had a chance to catch up with Byrne, to chat candidly about his South County lifestyle and, in particular, his new custom surf vessel, the M/V Hornet.
Tell me about the Hornet and why you got it.
It’s the end product in a long line of “surf boats” of mine which began with a little 14-foot Whitehouse wooden model powered by an old 25hp Envinrude in 1971. The inspiration for the Hornet was derived from Jeff Chamberlain, who has found success with a remodel on a Whaler 15 hull he acquired.
The Hornet’s base is a 15-foot Hobie skiff that I stripped and hauled down to Anderson Boat works in Goleta, where they fabricated a cabin for me. I did the hardware fit-up myself. I built the boat to surf out of, and it’s designed so that it’s small enough to launch off of a small hoist rated at 1000 pounds maximum load, and to do overnighters in.
You’ve heard the corporate term “think outside the box”? Well, my term for why I built the boat is to “think outside the parking lot.” The Hornet is the perfect vehicle for accessing forbidden fruit. I never rode in it prior to the remodel; it has far exceeded all my expectations and produced many good, isolated surf sessions with just one other friend.
Describe the difference for you between surfing from a boat vs. surfing from a parking lot.
Surfing by boat requires a lot of effort on the boat owner’s behalf. For me at this point, just making the voyage is 75 percent of the fun. If we happen to score an isolated reef or beachbreak really good, it’s just icing on the cake. With that said, the upside of boat surfing means you’re probably going to surf with yourself and whoever is with you; your feet never get dirty/sandy; it’s an easy paddle out (very important as you grow older); and the option to surf pretty much wherever and whenever you want without being concerned about a crowded lineup (with one exception: the area due east of Point Conception has seen better days).
The downsides of boat surfing? Constant boat maintenance, fees associated with launching (in most cases), being gone all day, and there’s always the factor that you may expend all the effort involved with going only to get skunked, which recently happened to me twice at the same spot. But you’re never going to know if you don’t go.
As for parking lot surfing, upsides are that it’s quick, easy, and much cheaper than boat surfing. Downsides are crowds, crowds, and crowds—cell phones and the Internet have ruined surfing.
Where to from here?
I figure I’ve got 10 good years left in me, hence the boat build—the finale, so to speak. I’ve transcended the barrier; it’s all about quality over quantity now. If I can snag one good session out of the boat, I’m good for up to at least 10 days if the surf doesn’t cooperate out in front of the parking lot.
Posted October 2006 Blue Edge Magazine. All rights reserved.
Jeff Chamberlain: Life in the Middle Kingdom
By Michael Kew
Los Osos resident Jeff Chamberlain is one whom I’d call “Mr. Central Coast.” Chamberlain, 51, has long been a chief ambassador of Central California surfing and its resultant adventurous lifestyle, spreading and sharing the stoke with infectious enthusiasm coupled with his unparalleled, intimate knowledge of that quirky, craggy coastline.
A career Harbor Patrol Officer in Avila Beach at Port San Luis, friends joke that Chamberlain’s sense of history and love of the Central Coast could just as easily have served him well at the local chamber of commerce. A 33-year veteran of one of America’s last wild coasts who has seen all the epochs, players, and transitions, this issue of Blue Edge couldn’t be complete without a dose of Chamberlain Wisdom, straight from the heart.
How would you describe the Central Coast to a surfer who’s never surfed there?
Chamberlain: In strictly ‘surf’ terms, it’s the land of opportunity. It can be a harsh taskmaster, difficult to figure out, and a brutal place in the spring, but it’s a region apart when compared to the rest of California.
For a variety of reasons, it’s retained many of her charms while other areas around here have seen accelerated change forever alter their landscape. It can be a living dream incarnate or a nightmare of unending proportions.
Like many things in life, which reality you get reflects more on you than the place, but everyone can agree: it’s one of the more difficult areas in California to be a surfer. The transitory nature of the surf has been the barbed-wire fence that’s always been here and kept the low-crowd nature intact, and due to this and a lot of economic factors, I’ve seen a ton of people just move on after awhile, with only a small percentage really sinking in and staying for the long haul.
What are the advantages of being a surfer there?
The vast open spaces, the variegated coastline, the relatively low population, and the huge family cattle tracts that still take up long stretches of undeveloped coastline. It all combines to create the type of surfing area that one dreams about as a kid, the kind of coastline that often seems like five states rolled up into one.
To a large extent, it’s still pretty small-town America. The no-growthers have done an admirable job of protecting much of what we all love about the place, though I may not agree with them on every issue. As a surfer, you really get a sense of open space, and unless you’re living north of Point Arena, that sort of environment to exist in as a surfer is really getting harder and harder to find. Lots of opportunity and a small-town feel, for me, has always been the perfect combination, and I think most surfers here would agree that this is our primary advantage.
What are the disadvantages of being a surfer there?
It can be harsh. We have more wind I think than anywhere in the state, and despite being in Central California, the water is generally much colder than even places further to the north.
We have few ‘highline’ spots—I view that as a positive while some might consider it a negative. But there’s nothing as easy as like a Steamer Lane, where you can bike on down for an almost guaranteed go-out—we just don’t have that type of ‘easy’ environment. To anyone who spends any time here, they always remark how the shape of the surf can often be wanting, and it can all be a bit wearing at times.
Influencing the purely surfing side of the equation, there’s much less economic opportunity here than anywhere else south of San Francisco, and for someone wanting to make a real life here and perhaps raise a family, that is a serious issue. Couple that with some of the highest real estate prices in the state, and it makes for a real conundrum
Since you arrived in 1973, how has the surf culture changed?
It’s become much busier. Not to a detrimental level, and not as bad as other counties, but you can’t deny that things are a bit more crowded as the years have passed. Culturally, we’ve always been the odd bird out, and our surfing culture isn’t as strong as, say, San Diego, Santa Barbara, or Santa Cruz. In many ways, that’s helped to slow things down quite a bit.
San Luis Obispo was really a pretty agricultural and ‘roll-up-the-sidewalks-at-5 p.m.’ sort of place when I first got here, and I’ve seen a huge change in that town.
I do miss a bit of those innocent times. There was zero surfing culture, and it was a fringe activity practiced by a relatively small number of guys. Now it’s much more mainstream—more shops, more media, more mention, more presence. But this might be the ‘more’ generation, and it’s not limited just to surfing.
When I was 20 most everybody I knew was, in some fashion, trying to emulate a bit of the Wayne Lynch ethic. It was like that all over, but here, a guy could actually make a go of it, and there was some honesty in that path. Constant hiking, backcountry vistas and remote stretches, looking for that next big experience, that next rung up the ladder. It was all about the wilderness surfing experience, and it was taken to edgy extremes on many, many occasions.
These days? I don’t see so much of that, but I think that the whole culture has removed itself from that ‘want’ that once seemed so pervasive. What do kids today want? I’m not sure I know.
How has the Central Coast molded you as a surfer?
It was a huge awakening. I came to Cal Poly from Northern California in the early ‘70s, and in the Central Coast I found the SoCal weather with the rural feel of NorCal. Within a short amount of time, I could tell that it seemed like the type of place I wanted to spend my entire life.
To myself and the various groups I ran with through the decades, it was never about ‘the’ spots, but rather the ‘next’ spots—which new discovery was just up ahead, down a cliff, at the end of a seasonal river, out on some reef with the next sand shift? It was always a hopscotch from one to the next, and I was lucky to partner up with some of the most enthusiastic personalities of their day. Every day, up at dawn, it was always about the hunt, and the never-ending ability in this county to actually be able to do that.
God, those were some glorious times, but they’re still available, if that’s your bent. And I think that’s what sets us apart from the rest of the state. They are still out there.
The core of the Central Coast has always been about the art of exploration, and to a large extent, that is still available today. Sam George, a Central Coast pioneer of sorts, referred to this aspect of it as ‘free-range surfing’.
The real worth to me has always seemed to be the ability to really get out and stretch your legs, to look for something new, and in the process create a kind of timeless and ultra-valuable adventurism that’s fast disappearing in many other parts of the U.S.
Where do you see Central California’s surf culture headed?
It’s hard to see a bit more congestion not becoming more and more of a factor. It’s bound to happen, and is a natural progression, to some degree.
But in the largest sense, I see the Central Coast as remaining pretty timeless. The very on-again, off-again essence will always chase 80 percent of the visitors down the road, and I don’t see our actual surfing population making any huge increase. If anything, we’re probably headed to more of a retirement population, and that will help to balance things.
And the most valuable thing about our county: the boundless, undeveloped coastline? Due to land conservancies, state parks, large ranches still held as family trusts, and a few other benevolent factors, there’s always going to be a lot of open coastline that’s very difficult, if not increasingly impossible, to access. In those gaps, I see the most valuable part of the essence surviving, and that will always leave a few openings for the wilier among us.
It’s those stretches of coastline that will conspire to protect the most valuable part of the Central Coast surfing experience, and it will always be our proudest heritage, an heirloom, if you will, that I see passing successfully to the next generations, and I’m deeply thankful for that.
We’ve been so lucky to be able to enjoy for our entire surfing life what a lot of guys have had to give up after their youth. I’m 51 now, and it’s all still going on, but it’s become a much more personal part of me as I’ve aged. I look forward to many more years out there on it, as, thank God, there’s still some work left to be done.
What are some of your fondest memories of living and surfing there?
There are too many to even try to list. And while I have so many great memories of unbelievable ‘first discoveries,’ reefs surfed for the first time, Big Sur unfolding like the garden it is, on-fire Cayucos sandbars, the halcyon Pico summer swells, memorable, non-stop ‘seasons,’ new spots found hidden just out of sight, epic early boat trips, the big wave glory days at Leffingwell, our kayak exploratory decade…I’d have to say that the true value of surfing really comes down to some of the great friends I’ve made through it over the years.
Every group seemed to have its own epoch, its own self-perpetuating dynamism, and I’ve been lucky enough to share in a few of them, each life-changing and a pleasure to pass through. Sam and Matt George through the early years, Dave Parmenter through the middle ones, my longtime buddy Brad Hair, through all of it—the list could go on and on. It’s been an honor to serve with all of them, each in their own way bringing a lot to the collective experience.
We have a ton of eccentric and interesting individuals who seem to flower in this environment, and sometimes, it feels like I must know most of them. As we’re younger, we always focus on the waves, that all important medium for our act. But as we age, if we’re lucky, we come to realize that it’s always been about the people who are out there on the trail with you, that’s the true intrinsic worth, and I’ve had the pleasure to walk with some of the best.
It all goes back to that small-town feeling that’s always been so much a part of it. Small groups of friends, riding forth in trucks, boats, Hi Techs, up cliffs, down trails, through a thousand poison oak cases and ankle tick discoveries, pounding it out in the rain, sun, and fog. It’s all been one big hunting party, and the trail has never seemed anything but glorious to the highest level.
The Central Coast truly is the magical Middle Kingdom, and I knew the first minute I got here that this was going to be home. Thirty-three years later, it still is, and I’ve led a blessed life that I’ve been lucky enough to find a way to stay here and raise a family in the best place in California to be a surfer.
Posted October 2006 Blue Edge Magazine. All rights reserved.
Blue Edge News
The Donnie Solomon 10th Annual Pro-Am Surf Contest
By Sean Hayes
Contest photos by Jason Wilcott
As a crisp offshore belted out of the Ventura River Canyon and a clean set peeled down the point, a scream was heard…“Oh look at that one!” said Keoni Cuccia “Donnie would be on it…I’m out there!”, and so it began, the 10th Annual Donnie Solomon Memorial.
Every year a group of friends and dedicated surfers gather in memory of fallen brother Donnie Solomon. Donnie Solomon was a well known professional surfer and native of Ventura who died while surfing Waimea Bay in December 1995 shortly after riding the wave of his life. Solomon was a strong supporter of the Red Cross and visited their facilities throughout the world while he traveled and competed in the WQS (World Qualifying Series). He encouraged other surfers and youth to receive safety training in first aid and CPR as well as lifeguard training. It was Donnie’s helpful attitude and way of giving back in conjunction with the Red Cross that makes the memorial so special and creates the inspiration he left behind.
The 10th Annual Donnie Solomon Memorial Benefit and Pro Am went down September 15, 16, and 17 at “C-Street” in Ventura. The event was held at one of Donnie’s favorite surfing locales, “The Pipe”, or the Northern corner of Ventura’s California Street. The benefit is a creation of Mary Lou Drummy’s WSA expertise and son Chris Drummy’s professional prowess and marketing skills with Fox Riders Co. Those characteristics mixed with a little bit of South swell and Northwest windswell would provide plenty of love being spread for the late great “Don-O” as we called him back in the day.
The attendees included 805 locals Dan Malloy, Henry Mills, Keoni Cuccia, Dane Reynolds, Jeremy Ryan, Nick Rosza, Adam Virs, Sean Hayes, Chad Compton, Dennis Rizzo, Nick Argyropoulos, Kellen Ellison, Spencer Regan and Dave Hopkins. Southern California pros such as Ted Navarro, Jesse Evans, Bron Hussenstam, Brandon Ragenovich, and Sean Burrell all came up to represent in Donnie’s name. And represent they did by shining in the smallish wedges and point-style lines throughout the day.
Of all the players, it was Dan Malloy who made a big impression in his first heat by sporting “the Red Jersey” and matching red trunks, which he then added to a 5’8” “Fun Hog Twinnie” shaped by Fletcher Chouinard and lit the Pipe on fire. Other surfers to follow and brighten up the scene were Ventura’s Keoni Cuccia and Carpinteria’s “Hank” Mills. All surfers were making it happen and as the event progressed, the crowd saw some amazing surfing and lots of love in the annual paddle out for Don-O. Where nearly 50 surfers gathered and spoke of Donnie’s life and heroic antics. And although everyone was awaiting the after party to celebrate in Don-O’s name soon to follow, it was the Pro-Am final that had to go down first.
The last heat of the day would see Dan Malloy, Shaun Burrell, Ted Navarro, and Keoni Cuccia doing what Donnie loved most…put on the heat in competition. Teddy Navarro dropped a 7.25 within a minute and backed that up with another high scoring ride, and was looking like the man to beat. However, Malloy and Cuccia are true homeboys to Donnie’s favorite spot and soon began to deliver their answers, as did Shaun Burrell with a deadly backhand attack on the inside corner. Scores went down for all four riders, until Dan Malloy dropped a hammer with an 8.5. The clocked ticked away and the others scrambled to beat Dan, but it was Dan’s day, and he was still on fire in the red trunks.
The award ceremony went down soon with the sun and the boys were very grateful to compete in Donnie’s name. So much so in fact, that Dan ($1500) and Keoni ($500) donated their near $2,000 in cumulative prize money back to the Red Cross. Very cool and very inspiring.
The benefit concert and art show would move the good vibe along that evening in downtown Ventura at Table 13. It would raise even more spirits and Red Cross funds in Donnie’s name. Headlining the show was evolving acoustic legend Todd Hannigan, and “Hirocho” master Xocoyotzin (CHOKE-O-YOTE-ZIN). Friends of Donnie; Kent Doonan, John Swift, and Central Coaster Shane Stoneman all jammed for the cause, while artists Sean Tully, Chris Charney, and Davey Miller presented some amazing work that created a very smooth ambient feel to the night. As the night went on, so did the love of the memory of Donnie Solomon and all in attendance felt his presence.
Special thanks to those who helped make the 10th Annual Donnie Solomon Memorial a reality…you know who you are!!
Adam Virs' My Spot – Presented by Fox – September 14th, 2006
By Chris Drummy
Photos by Jason Wilcott
After a tough round two heat against Mick Fanning at the Boost Mobile WCT, California freak Dane Reynolds immediately picked up his cell phone for an important call…
“Virs, I coming up to surf the My Spot.”
The third installment of Fox’s “My Spot” event for aerial specialist and Ventura local Adam Virs is now in the Fox event bank account. The showdown took place Thursday September 14th at Virs’ spot of choice, “The Pipe”, or the Northern corner of Ventura’s California Street. With a decent Southern Hemisphere pulse and a touch of Northwest wind swell, the combination of the two delivered a fun mix of waist to chest high wedges that sent some surfers racing down the line into big scores and some falling short with no face to play with.
Those attending the event and handpicked by Virs himself provided plenty of competition and trash talking to make “My Spot” what it is. The list of attendees was a sick talent pool ready to give Virs a run for his $2000 and KMC Wheels that included Dane Reynolds, Jeremy Ryan, Nick Rosza, Cory Arrambide, Tarik Khoshogi, Kai Ellison, and “The Grom” Spencer Regan. Fox riders Che Stang, Jesse Evans, Keoni Cuccia, Sean Hayes, Torrey Meister, along with amateurs Mike McCabe, and Kellen Ellison were in full effect, not to mention Virs’ local heroes Dave Hopkins, and Guy Quezada. Needless to say…it was on.
The great thing about the My Spot is what it does to a hot group of guys like this…pushes ‘em to GO BIG! Not only is there cash on the line for the finalists, but also from sponsors like Ventura Surf Shop, Sector 9, and Utopia Optics for Biggest Air, Best Maneuver, Hottest Girlfriend, Top Am, Highest Heat Total, and Highest Wave Score. Starting off the specialty category was Jeremy Ryan’s intro high wave score of an 8.33, where he delivered four deadly backhand gouges that were smooth as silk. Soon to follow were Henry Mills demolishing a medium sized right hander to apply for the Most Radical Maneuver category and then Keoni Cuccia forcing a tie of an 8.33 to match Ryan. However, as situations changed and My Spot entrants fought to get to Virs, it was the Ventura Surf Shop Expression Session that had all eyes on the water.
As soon as the “Exprezz O Sezh O” began as announcer Ryan Simmons labeled it, there were twenty shredders including Virs himself trying to nab $300 bucks for the taking. From the beach, most spectators had their eye on free surf phenom Dane Reynolds and his BIG attempts, while young Torrey Meister was dropping countless front side Air 360’s, and even Chad Compton took off with a section clearing Superman.
Then, in true Virs Fashion, “Out of Nowhere” came a wedgy left hander right to him and then “BOOM” a HUGE backside air 360 is stuck by the My Spot kid to get the nod from spectators and judges AND himself with the “Double-Bird Claim”.
The competition kept spectators and the knocked out entrants around all day to witness the man-on-man “Semi-semi’s” with Cory Arrambide taking out Keoni Cuccia and the “The Grom” Spencer Regan dropping a “Hail Mary” score to overtake Yves Bright at the horn. Cory then took out Spencer in the Semi’s destroying a few rights on his backhand, then unleashing a few frontside air 360’s for good measure and a “combo” situation for the Grom.
The final would see Virs paired up with Arrambide and the trash talking ensued. Within seconds of the horn Cory nabbed a tight little right delivering an 8.5 which would leave Virs in question of the score and put him in a tough spot for the rest of the heat. Adam soon dropped a high 6 point ride, with Arrambide on the wave behind dropping an 8.0. Virs fought back looking for the 9.1 he needed and came close with an 8.9 and 30 seconds to go. As fate would have it, the grom got the cash, the KMC rims, a nice headlock from Virs and the title for the Adam Virs My Spot.
1st Place: Cory Arrambide $2000 + KMC Rims
2nd Place: Adam Virs $1000
3rd Place: Spencer Regan $600
=5th Place: Keoni Cuccia $300
Yves Bright $300
Ventura Surf Shop Expression Session: Adam Virs $300
Sector 9 Top Placing Amateur: Cory Arrambide $250
Utopia Optics Best Air: Cory Arrambide $250
Most Radical Maneuver: Henry “Hank” Mills $250
Highest Heat Total: Cory Arrambide $250
Highest Wave Score: Cory Arrambide $250
Hottest Girlfriend: Kellen Ellison $250
Big thanks to all the sponsors:
Reyes Mexican Food
KMC Wheels
Ventura Surf Shop
Sector 9
Utopia Optics
Rock Star Energy Drink
Roberts Surfboards
Pro Light
Posted October 2006 Blue Edge Magazine. All rights reserved.
Environmental News
Surfrider Paddle for Clean Water Makes a Big Splash
By Ken Pally
Photos by Will Russ
Skies were blue and sunny and the water cool and inviting on Saturday September 16th but, as Surfrider was quick to point out, hidden dangers lurked. No not C. Megadolon, the Great white Shark but more subtle and insidious dangers from bacteria, viruses and chemical pollutants. A little over 100 environmentally conscious people and activists and community members gathered on the sand at Stearn’s Wharf to hear Congresswoman Lois Capps, Assemblyman Pedro Nava, 1st district Supervisor Salud Carbajal and Santa Barbara city council member Helene Schneider talk about the need for local, regional and comprehensive national ocean policies. The focus of the event was to bring public awareness to the recommendations of the Pew Oceans Commission Report and the US Commission on Ocean Policy Report. Particularly important are the following recommendations:
1.Enact a National Ocean Policy Act to protect, maintain and restore the health, integrity, resilience, and productivity of our oceans
2.Establish National Ocean Council in the Executive Office of the president, chaired by an Assistant to the President, or establish an independent national oceans agency.
3.Double the nation’s investment in ocean research, launch a new area of ocean exploration, and create the advanced technologies and modern infrastructure needed to support them.
After all the serious talk the main event was a short, fun paddle out of surfboards, kayaks outrigger canoes to the Y at Stearn’s Wharf to form up into a healing circle of 85 people to pray to whatever gods or goddesses there may be to help us heal our ocean and to protect the world’s waves, oceans and beaches for all people.
Surfrider Foundation Santa Barbara Chapter wants to thank all of the great folks that showed up to support our efforts. We want to thank our fabulous local community sponsors: Maps.com our principal corporate sponsor, Softshare, Patagonia, Clipper windpower Mr. Zogs Sex Wax, New Belgium Brewery, MapLink, Citrix Online, SurfTwig and BlueEdge magazine. Without the grass roots support of local citizens and the local businesses none of this would have been possible. Next year we hope to have a bigger and better paddle and look forward to seeing you all there.
If you want to learn more about these issues and find out how you can get involved in saving the ocean and your planet check out the following links.
http://www.pewoceans.org/
http://www.oceancommission.gov/
www.sbsurfrider.org
Riding the Wave of Change Campaign for universal health insurance in California
Landmark legislation that would provide comprehensive health and dental insurance to all California residents passed the legislature at the end of August. The Governor’s signature would set into motion the premise for all Californians to have excellent, publicly financed and accountable, and totally pre-paid health insurance. The legislation, SB 840 (Kuehl) the California Health Insurance Reliability Act, would provides for a single, lifetime, secure, health insurance policy, at affordable costs where everyone has free choice of their own personal, private doctor and treatment.
The non partisan health policy analysts, the Lewin Group, showed that a plan such as SB 840 would cost California taxpayers $8 billion less than is currently publicly and privately spent.
The grassroots, volunteer organization Health Care for All – California and other endorsing organizations are embarking on a year long public education and advocacy campaign called OneCareNow.
The launch of the OneCareNow campaign occurred in Morro Bay with the surfing theme “Riding the Wave of Change”. Sarah Gerhardt, the first female tow-in surfer and the first female stand-up surfer to ride Mavericks shared stories and her unequivocal support of SB 840.
The campaign culminates with a Rally in Sacramento on August 19, 2007 for the to promoting the passage and funding of a universal health insurance system and to make sure legislators fulfill their promise to provide health insurance for all Californians.
Join the OneCareNow event in Isla Vista on Sunday, October 22, 2006, 6:30 to 8:30PM. at Friendship Manor which will be followed by a procession along Embarcadero del Mar to People’s Park for a candlelight vigil remembering the uninsured.
For more information on SB840 go to www.healthcareforall.org, www.onecarenow.org, or contact Peter Conn at pconnt43@cox.net or 682-5183. 21st Century medicine in California can be affordably accessible to all, including our surfing community. Come Ride the Wave of Change.
(Article by Paulina Conn, 2612 Foothill Rd. Santa Barbara, CA 93105. pconnt43@cox.net. 682-5183)
Shark Park
A documentary by Greg Huglin featuring an international team of towsurfers, including Rusty Long, Mark Healy, Dan Malloy, Eric Akiskalian and others who ride a secret virgin wave at a remote offshore reef
West Coast Premier showing . . .
Date: Wednesday, October 18 OR Thursday, October 19
Time: 7:00 p.m.
Cost: all tickets $10 – general seating (doors open at 6:15 pm)
Where: Crane Country Day School
1795 San Leandro Lane, Montecito
Tickets may be purchased in advance at the school or at the door. For more information, call 969-7732 ext: 101
~ a benefit for Crane Country Day School ~
Posted October 2006 Blue Edge Magazine. All rights reserved.
