December 2006 Issue
Hot Curling: Surfing into the past on a redwood plank
By Michael Kew
Photographs by David Pu’u
Central Coast, July: mild, mid-week, late afternoon, a few clouds, roads of tourists, rolling hills of brown grass and black cattle. It could’ve been Orange County seventy years ago, or Los Angeles a hundred.
Here summer surf is sporadic, often junky, with occasional clean south swell rejuvenating rare reefs in Big Sur, San Simeon, Cambria, Cayucos. After a late Mexican-food lunch in downtown San Luis Obispo we drove west, eventually choosing Morro Bay’s Atascadero Beach for its smallish windswell—empty, glassy, peaky, consistent—ideal for my first time riding a Hot Curl, or, more specifically, going “Hot Curling.”
Marc Andreini’s white Ford Econoline was big enough to house an entire quiver of Hot Curls. We brought one, the 9’4” he’d shaped in 2002, from San Luis Obispo water-tower redwood. He rode a self-shaped 
foam/fiberglass 9’2” Owl-replica spoon which he eventually sold to me.
Getting into my damp wetsuit on the cold, hard sand, dusk approaching, the windless air cooling rapidly, Marc offered a quick tutorial while standing over the board I would ride, pointing at its tail:
“It works best if you stand back there on it—it plants the tail into the face of the wave. Therefore the nose goes faster than the back of the board, and so when you get it on an angle, the nose is going faster than the tail, and you’re going to slide across at an angle rather than the back end trying to overtake the front end.
“You have to figure out how to make the board go where you need it to go, and the more time the wave gives you, the better. You’re not going to be fighting to make sure it goes the right way—you have to let it flow.”
Woodsmoke from a nearby campground filled the air, stirring memories of sleeping in tents and cars along this rugged coast. Seagulls cackled and jostled; somewhere in the distance, a sea lion barked.
With the board I waded into the surf. The board was fairly light for a Hot Curl (fifty-one pounds) and dropped straight onto the water with a loud, flat crack, like dropping a coffee table into a swimming pool.
I started paddling: buoyancy was easy, stability was not. The finless tail wagged as I punched through whitewater, appreciating the board’s speed and fluidity but struggling to restrain its rear pivot. Yet a momentum ensued and I earned stride, sluicing the water, head down, smelling the brine and smoke. Once outside I was able to admire the setting sun and its pastels cast onto the crags of Morro Rock—ancient, yes, and appropriate for a trip back through time atop a modern Hot Curl, because Hot Curls are timepieces, their science and design precursors to the modern big-wave gun and, ultimately, tow-in surfboards.
What did Fran Heath and John Kelly and Wally Froiseth feel their first time Hot Curling in 1937? Firmer purchase in the pocket? Increased speed? A line-drive of effortless speed and flow? Surely a sense of oneness with the furling reef waves of Brown’s and Makaha, opposed to the soft contours of Waikiki. Their scene was tropical, but their wood came from temperate rain forests in the Pacific Northwest. Old-growth redwoods are the world’s biggest trees, today reduced to a fraction of their pre-logging existence. Of course, redwood used for Hot Curls were inconsequential, and the one I straddled was shaped from recycled lumber.
I caught my first wave easily and squatted in the whitewater straight to shore, feeling the plank’s firm grip on the water surface. It was fast and sketchy, but the instant my feet hit the deck, I was Hot Curling. Marc caught the next wave and rode it beautifully. Back outside, I asked him how he first fared on this rockerless, finless plank.
“I succeeded in riding a handful of waves on it at Pismo,” he said, squinting into the low sun. “I had to really stay back on the board. The first thing I did was I got up on it and it spun around so fast, I was facing out to sea instantly and I scared the hell out of myself.”
That was in wintry, overhead beachbreak—ideal size and steepness for the Hot Curl, but generally closed-out. Morro Bay’s summer sandbars were tapered, and once I balanced my weight and began mind-surfing the board between sets, waves became ridden from the outside to the sand. Recounting Marc’s advice (Plant the tail into the face of the wave—), I stood with an arc to my back, a slight bend to my knees, mimicking footage I’d seen of Blackie Makaena surfing toward Diamond Head at Canoes in Bud Browne’s Hawaiian Surfing Movies, circa 1950.
Morro Rock could be Diamond Head. Looking south from Atascadero Beach, the curve of the coast down to the Rock resembled the view south from Waikiki. Sitting in the cold water, I could almost sense Blackie at Canoes, or Wally Froiseth out on a big day at Queen’s. The water and air were warmer there, and the men surfed over coral instead of sand, but Atascadero’s early-evening idyll—the backdrop hills, the lack of surfers, the campfires, the sun dropping through clouds into the gray sea—evoked a sublime immunity to the woes of modern surfing. There, with Marc’s guidance, I could Hot-Curl undisturbed, sliding finless into the past, well before my time.
“It’s a really beautiful experience to ride a Hot Curl in any clean wave that’s not a top-to-bottom closeout thumper,” he said.
Sixty years ago, closeouts were rarely ridden. Frequented surf spots were of quality, usually pointbreaks and reefs like Waikiki, Malibu, and San Onofre. Beachbreaks like Morro Bay would have been ridden on smallish, clean, perfect days, like today, and the Hot Curl would have been the perfect board.
World War II, the draft, no wetsuits, no Internet, no cell phones, no crowds, no ocean pollution—life was different for the 1940s-era twentysomething male surfer. Futures were uncertain, many fateful. It was possible that a young enlisted man from southern California, summoned to O’ahu after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, found the Hot Curl: Waikiki, Makaha, and Brown’s were not far.
After Pearl Harbor, John Kelly was ordered to boat around and retrieve dead bodies—the adage “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother” comes to mind:
“We would pick up dozens and dozens, lay them out for identification, then put them in boxes for storage. Every once in a while we’d bring a dead Japanese pilot in. We were using those double-size boxes, so you’d put two bodies in instead of one, and I remember laying an American sailor face-to-face with a Japanese pilot, and thinking: who the hell made the decision that these kids had to kill one another? These two boys had no grievances…the outrageousness of the whole thing, the waste—it just about took me over.”
Later, Kelly and Fran Heath served aboard the USS Calcedony ; the captain let them bring Hot Curls. Exotic surf was imminent: the Phoenix Islands, Christmas Island, Palmyra, Midway Atoll—places still far removed from today’s surf-travel map. Yet they are out there, suspended in time, mid-Pacific, soiled with rusty military leftovers, weedy airstrips, and the souls from untold casualties of war. Sixty years on, visitors remain rare, tourism unknown.
Surfing on a Hot Curl—a floating wooden timepiece—withdrew me to that era, years described to me by my grandfather, an army colonel who earned a purple heart in Germany. The frozen screams of Alcatraz were a world distant from Hawai’i and the tropical Pacific, yet the horror and challenge of warfare remained the same for Kelly and Heath, both assigned to Underwater Demolition Team (UDT) duty, an early version of today’s Navy SEALs.
“We considered using surfboards for reconnaissance missions,” Heath said. “That was Kelly’s idea. But, boards are too easily spotted from low-flying aircraft and there’s no protection if you’re spotted, so that idea was scrapped.”
Around the same time back at Morro Bay, the U.S. Navy was staging mock invasions with amphibious landing crafts at the exact beach where I Hot-Curled with Marc. Morro Rock was being quarried for landfill and port improvements, notably harbor entrance’s two 1,800-foot-long jetties, built, at the Navy’s request, for better wartime defense purposes.
Angling shore ward atop the Hot Curl, balanced methodically, learning its rail and tail-suction nuances—I needed no defense. But what if I did? What if I was in my twenties just before the Pearl Harbor bombing, surfing wintertime San Onofre in a wool bathing suit on a Pacific Redi-Cut Homes 10’0” redwood/balsa, sharing waves with Gard Chapin, Lorin Harrison, and Dorian Paskowitz? Military service would’ve been certain, and I would’ve joined the navy, like John Kelly and Fran Heath.
Disaster would’ve also been somewhat imminent—gunfire, shipwreck, bombing, hand-to-hand combat—against the Asian enemy. Or, in Kelly’s case, there could’ve been a lucid instance of oceanic abandonment: to break the monotony at sea, Kelly occasionally grabbed a rope and bodysurfed behind the USS Calcedony. One day, however, his rope snapped, and suddenly he was treading in the Big Blue, watching his ship sail away.
More questions: What if he wasn’t rescued? What if he had been left in the middle of the Pacific, with no life vest, flotation, food, or drinking water? What if he was stranded within swimming distance of an obscure atoll populated with islanders who had never seen a white person? And what if that atoll had rideable waves, and trees to build a surfboard with?
Toweling off at Marc’s van in darkness on the side of the road, campfire smoke and sea salt penetrating the air, Morro Bay’s lights winking in the distance, I asked him if he thought surfing’s halcyon days were over.
“In southern California, to an extent, yes, I’d say they’re over. But each generation has its own period of innocence and evolution—or revolution, I suppose.”
Sliding my hands along the contours of the wet Hot Curl, I realized mine had just begun.
Posted December 2006 Blue Edge Magazine. All rights reserved.
Year One A.D.
By David Pu’u
Approximately a year has passed since Clark Foam disappeared, becoming one in a long line of chemical based manufacturing companies to depart Southern California. The unique thing about this particular business is that an entire sport and a huge industry based around the existence of that sport hinged upon a single near perfect monopoly.
When the operator of that monopoly saw the opportunity to pass through the exit door and close his operation, he did just that, and the custom foam business became a wide open free market for the first time in about thirty years.
Just what exactly died when Clark Foam ceased to exist? To answer, one must look at the architecture of a sport and it’s equipment demands. In the thirty years I was involved in manufacturing surfboards, the push has always been on for lighter, stronger, more responsive equipment. Clark Foam spent a lot of time developing a series of close tolerance blank molds and multiple foam densities that were designed in collaboration with the most knowledgeable shapers/designers in the world. The blanks were intended for the custom shape users. The foam featured a dual density nature. The less dense and lighter core was wrapped completely in a more dense surface structure. The idea being to use a blank with a custom rocker glued into it at the Clark factory and have the custom shaper never core cut to the less dense foam within. The ensuing “I beam effect”, a time proven technology used in a variety of construction industries and processes allowed for surfboards to wander down into the six pound range and still maintain good structural integrity and resistance to denting and breakage, subject to the design and skill of the glass job and custom glasser of course. The finished board with polyester resin and custom E and S weave glass fabrics composed what is commonly termed an “advanced composite”.
An advanced composite as applied to a surfboard is basically using a specific foam structure and glass combination to achieve a pre determined flex rate in the finished board and maintain the maximum amount of structural integrity possible while avoiding the accumulation of excess weight. What the industry was doing with Clark foam was building the maximum strength, to lowest weight ratio product possible at the lowest cost. The more experienced builders were therefore pretty shaken as Clark foam, foundation of that advanced composite, ceased to exist.
However, at the same time all of this custom design advance was occurring another variable entered the surf industry: huge growth, and a resulting radically increased demand, which necessitated the use of shaping machines and fostered the propagation of molded board companies, such as Randy French’s Surf Tech, the established leader in that technology. Already a fiscal success before the boom, and somewhat of a good compromise between performance, strength, and price the company saw steady sales growth.
Meanwhile, a cadre of computer milling machine companies, utilizing programs based on scans made of successful custom surfboards filled surfboard factories with foam only requiring menial skill labor on the order of ten to twenty minutes per board, to return a fairly accurate copy of the original board. The machine operators look for a uniform foam blank, one which can be cut to shape with zero density variation. A board made from a uniform density blank generally will not be of the highest possible strength to weight ratio, but without Clark Foam and dual density foam, that became a moot point. Indeed, given the skill level of the average surfer, it is debatable if the lighter stronger equipment was even necessary for most people in the first place.
So the past year saw a flood of companies enter the foam market from every country imaginable. From Australia we saw Midget Farrelly Surfblanks and tenured manufacturer Burford begin to warehouse on US shores. Spyder Murphy from South Africa did likewise. Santa Barbara surf industry veteran Andrew Jakobowski incepted Surfblanks America which is rumored to utilize the same foam and molding techniques pioneered by Gordon Clark. Long time thorn in Clark’s side Harold Walker, of Walker Foam ramped up California production, and incepted yet another factory in China. The list goes on. It is a free market. All of the companies in that market are playing on a global field moderated by demand and the variables of the international free market. It appears that current foam inventories on US shores are currently more than adequate to supply demand.
Fused cell EPS which is a fairly tough cousin to the age old Expanded beaded Polystyrene (the stuff packing containers and coffee cups are made of) has seen distribution channels open. Couple that foam with epoxy resins and boutique fiberglass and a pretty remarkable advanced composite results.
In the midst of the flood of foam, and burgeoning manufacturing processes, Randy French unveiled a new board, designed from the ground up, utilizing fused cell EPS and custom epoxy molding techniques which have resulted in a board with a previously unparalleled competitive cost, high integrity/memory performance flex (an issue with earlier molded boards which relied on super rigid skins to maintain structural integrity because the beaded EPS core had little to no real structural integrity) and superior shell strength. It is remarkable on many levels, as mass manufactured boards go. No surprise really, as Randy has been at this for a long long time.
In effect, the exodus of Clark Foam from the surfboard industry has caused a renewed vigor in product development in molded board design, foam design, computer shaping companies and materials development. The resulting choices for the consumer will be more varied than ever before and costs seem to not be rising in the manner many predicted a year ago as Clark retired their marquee.
That being said, I guess I may just have to shape the remaining few Clark blanks that have been sitting in my garage, and revel in a bit of nostalgia. Funny what happened in only one year.
Sources:
Randy Cone, Spencer Kellogg, Dennis Ryder, Ben Marcos, George Orbelian, Surftech USA
Posted December 2006 Blue Edge Magazine. All rights reserved.
Steady As She Goes
Steady As She Goes
By Chuck Graham
Assuring there would be no let down by Bobby Martinez after his win in Spain, the young goofy footer came through with another solid result, placing =5th in the Nova Schin Festival presented by Billabong in Brazil.
Martinez lost to Mick Fanning (AUS) in the quarterfinals 13.00 to 6.67 in challenging and shifting 6-foot plus surf at Imbituba Beach. Fanning went on to claim his second WCT victory, waxing Damian Hobgood with nearly two perfect scores that the Floridian couldn't overcome.
The win pushed Fanning up to second place in the WCT rankings. However, there will no doubt be a lot of jockeying to see who plays second fiddle to Kelly Slater, who has already won his 8th world title. Slater didn't bother to show in Brazil, and understandably so. Although the drama of a world title chase won't be the case in the WCT finale at Pipeline, there's certainly the intrigue of who will finish second in the standings, who will qualify for next year's CT (the top 27 CT surfers qualify for 2007), and the potential for a Slater/Irons showdown at Pipe is always worth a gander.
Martinez could find himself in second if he comes up big on the North Shore. Irons has to be steamed after his loss in Brazil, and now finds himself two points behind Martinez in the current standings. Martinez moved up from 6th to 4th, well within striking distance of second place. Irons, for his part would love another Pipeline Masters title on the mantle to salvage what has to be a disappointing year for him.
2006 WCT Current Standings
1. Kelly Slater (USA) 7824
2. Mick Fanning (AUS) 6638
3. Taj Burrow (AUS) 6480
4. Bobby Martinez (USA) 6350
5. Andy Irons (HAW) 6348
6. Joel Parkinson (AUS) 6240
7. Damian Hobgood (USA) 5774
8. Tom Whitaker (AUS) 5138
9. Taylor Knox (USA) 4880
10. Dean Morrison (AUS) 4856
Posted December 2006 Blue Edge Magazine. All rights reserved.
Tiki Waxx
Tikiwaxx—the latest and greatest in surf wax from Santa Barbara local Ramon Hernandez (you're gonna love it)
I heard from a friend who got second degree burns that life in the wax business can be rough--how is it treating you?
I have heard the same thing that it's a difficult biz to do well
in. Wax is a low margin/high volume business. What I'm trying to do is
tell surfers that surf wax can be more than just a bar of wax to rub
on your board. It can look cool and also help the environment.
Tikiwaxx will actively give back to the surfing community through
programs like 1% for the Planet and Surfrider Foundation once it is
widely distributed. Since every surfer needs wax, it is my
responsibility to give back to surfing and the ocean. Also, I will be
donating my time in different areas to help with beach clean up &
with some of the groms to talk about being responsible for their piece
of beach, don't let anyone disrespect it! If other brands can do it
through SEX, Tikiwaxx can do it with art, creativity and a
responsibility to our environment.
You are obviously a surfer with an affinity for Polynesian culture--tell me about the beginning, the seed that started it all?
It all started on a trip to Maui I took with my family after my
step-father passed away. I wanted to get a really
cool Tiki candle, but couldn't find one. Like anybody, I thought
'somebody really should make those things' So on the
way home from LAX to Santa Barbara I had the inspiration to use the
Tiki image in something I could use instead of just look at--a bar
of surf wax!
My friend JW says Tiki wax is the 'goopiest' wax he's ever used. He said it's like squeezing goo out of a tube on to your board-- can you tell me about the differences between your wax and some other brands?
Yeah, Tikiwaxx is definitely VERY sticky and goes on well, everyone who has used it swears its the stickiest they've ever used. The Cold Coconuts is designed to go on easily over any wax you might have gobbed up on your board, and will stay on. When used on its own or with a Base coat, it provides excellent traction. If you forgot to bring wax to the beach and you're already using Tikiwaxx you'll probably be okay just scratching your wax up a bit, it will still be extra sticky.
How old is Tikiwaxx?
The idea of Tikiwaxx is a few years old, and after a lot of
research & development the first batch became available this past
June, when I introduced the Cool Vibes and Cold Coconuts temperatures.
Now I'm working on my marketing and distribution as well as the
web-site. As far as Team Riders go, I call them 'Tribal Riders'. I'm hooking up a ripper from South Africa on the WQS named Ricky Basnett, and an insane surfer from Hawaii named Tomhenry Coletti, also Clay Wagner, JP Garcia, Joey Camacho, all from Ventura, and twin Santa Barbara High School groms
Shane & Tyler Millhollin
Where else can we buy your wax besides The Beach House and A-Frame?Tikiwaxx is also available online at tikiwaxx.com and in Santa Barbara at Clyde Beatty Products and Santa Barbara Ice, also at Wave Front and Bad Ass Coffee in Ventura, shops that have been supportive since before you could wax
up your slippery stick with a Sticky Tiki!
Posted December 2006 Blue Edge Magazine. All rights reserved.
Locals Only: Bathrooms at Butterfly beach?
Locals Only
Bathrooms at Butterfly beach?
By Jesse Lassen Bellinger
The Montecito Journal ran an article not too long ago about the possibility of bathrooms at Butterfly beach along Channel Drive in Montecito. Developer and property owner Bernie MacElhenny wants to put a restroom along the 15 feet of tar and rocks that extends beyond the road as part of his property. The possibilities range from a stylized portapotty to a full scale, flushing bathroom in the ubiquitous Santa Barbara style. One option for offsetting cleaning costs includes a snack bar.
Opposition arguments ran the gamut from claiming Butterfly as a community beach to the danger of water pollution because the toilet would be so close to the high tide line. Connection to existing sewer lines would solve that one.
One unspoken argument against the bathrooms would be giving the homeless a little haven, because so far Butterfly is relatively unmarred by our less fortunate citizens. An easy counter ploy to that could be to charge 25 cents for access, and enjoy the humane side effects.
The random sample of beachgoers I asked thought a bathroom would be a grand idea. I’m no sanitary technician, but it seems water pollution would only be a problem if a portapotty were used. Those things are gross, and really shouldn’t be on any proposal for the area.
The best retort against a snack stand was that the Biltmore is one fine example of a snack bar. Access to the Biltmore is a shoddy excuse for a snack shack. When was the last time you felt comfortable or even remotely welcome shambling your beach-going self up the vaunted brick walkways and into the carpeted hallways to sit down for a little snack? As a local I’ve done it, waiting for the help to call me out and boot me back to the beach.
The “community beach” argument makes me wonder if the residents of Channel Drive have been walking around wearing blinders; it’s a public beach, and one of the most accessible in the city. The influx of fratboys, raves, and police patrols to keep the booze consumption down should tell you that. Butterfly had been discovered the last time I checked.
Storms also weren’t addressed. The first El Niño is going to destroy a bathroom perched on the high tide line. As well, placing a structure on some random plot of land would be blotchy. MacElhenny would do better to work an easement trade and put the bathroom near the existing Butterfly steps, complete with a shower. If nothing else, a shower.
Perhaps it could be a little, pocket-sized park the size of the bathroom, maintained by the county? Whatever the outcome, residents, the Montecito Association Land Use Committee, and high tide logistics dictate it won’t happen any time soon. Too bad, because nature calls even at the beach: where are all the people supposed to go?
MacElhenny needs to focus his project and lose the snack stand—that’s just a little too Coney Island. A bathroom would be a nice touch at Butterfly, done right.
Posted December 2006 Blue Edge Magazine. All rights reserved.
