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April 2007 Issue
Peggy Oki
Origami Whales
By Sonia Fernandez
The ocean has always inspired Peggy Oki. Whether it gave her the skill and grace to lay down on concrete moves informed by surf sessions as Dogtown’s only Z-girl, or beckoned her to reproduce the beauty of seascapes in her later life as an artist, her eyes and ears seem to always be tuned to the sea, its beauty and mystery.
It’s no surprise, then, that the call of the ocean led her into environmental activism, a passion she pursues as avidly as she chases the perfect wave. It seems the call has become a plea for help, and Oki is ready to respond.
“I was surfing Blacks Beach when two Grays came within 25 yards of me,” she said. It was the last Christmas of the last millennium and the Christmas present she got from the sea made up her mind.
“This experience led to my commitment as an activist to help the whales,” she said.
Since then, she’s launched several efforts to bring awareness to the plight of these magnificent mammals.
“As the time nears the IWC (International Whaling Commission) meetings, I've been putting in some 10-12 hour days on top of doing my best to maintain my livelihood and life,” said Oki.
Far from being your typical save-the-whales activist however, Oki chose another route: art, and the natural enthusiasm of children and lovers of nature.
The project is called Origami Whales Project, a curtain of folded whales that draws the eye with its color, but more importantly, its size. This year’s curtain is going to be almost 30,000 origami whales big, representing the number of whales targeted in the oceans all over the world. It’s both beautiful and saddening, and Oki hopes that its impact will be enough to motivate the hearts and minds of IWC attendees at their meeting next month, because, while the IWC has maintained a moratorium on whaling since 1982, whales continue to be slaughtered all over the world.
Putting together a 28,500 origami whale curtain is not an easy task, acknowledges Oki. But it’s fun, and because she’s spent her life doing things that are fun, she knows exactly where to go for the kind of boundless energy and enthusiasm needed to get the job done.
“It was wonderful to be working with children again,” said Oki. “They seemed very interested in the ‘cool things about whales’ that I shared with them.” The kids in question are 11-12 year olds from a school in Camarillo, and children in the Kid’s Club at Patagonia in Ventura.
“For the Kid's Club at Patagonia, we had the large conference room with big screen. With the little ones seated on the floor, and the large screen, 7 minutes of ‘Blues, Bryde's, & Humpbacks’ from Earl Richmond, and my personal one minute of close encounters with bubblenet feeding Humpbacks in Alaska, the whales seemed lifesize, bringing lots of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhhs’,” she said. “I think that between the two groups, probably 500 whales were folded!”
Then it was off to Cate School, a private school in Carpinteria, where the community service educator rallied her kids around the project.
“We had about 20 students in and out, some stitching with us, and all folded enthusiastically, making nearly 1,500 whales. We accomplished our goal of 22 strands, and the instructor wants to promote continued involvement of the school. There are about 4,600 origami whales towards the goal of 28,500--with additional pledges of whales coming in.” said Oki.
28,500 origami whales aren’t going to fold themselves however, and Oki is calling out to anyone willing to fold even a single paper whale for her curtain/art project/ whale memorial.
“It is a small sacrifice compared to the suffering of thousands of whales; and I am glad to do what I believe to be the most important action I can dedicate to them at this time.”
Visit http://www.peggy-oki.com/cu_origami.part.html to get information on Origami Whales, and how you can contribute your mad paper folding skills to the project. The page has links to folding diagrams and petitions you can download, as well as contact and deadline information, as well as links to Oki’s other projects. Don’t wait – you have one more month to become part of this year’s Origami Whales Project.
Volunteers needed to stitch strands of origami whales with a simple hand-sewing method at the “Origami Whale Stitching Parties” in creating the “Curtain of 28,500 Origami Whales” to raise awareness about commercial whaling. All ages & genders are most welcome.
All materials, including origami whales, will be provided.
Please check the online calendar at:
http://www.peggy-oki.com/events.html
• TUESDAY, 17th of April
“Curtain of 28,500 Origami Whales” Stitching Party
5:30-8:30 PM
The Treasure Hunt
919 Maple Avenue, Carpinteria, CA. 93013, ph: 684.3360
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• THURSDAY, 19th of April
“Curtain of 28,500 Origami Whales” Stitching Party
2-7 PM
Carpinteria Community Arts Center (outdoors by the arbor)*
855 Linden Avenue, Carpinteria, CA 93013, ph: 684.3573
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• SATURDAY, 21st of April
“Curtain of 28,500 Origami Whales” Stitching Party
12-5 PM
Carpinteria Community Arts Center (outdoors by the arbor)*
855 Linden Avenue, Carpinteria, CA 93013, ph: 684.3573
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• SUNDAY, 22nd of April
“Curtain of 28,500 Origami Whales” Stitching Party
11AM - 3PM
Great Pacific Iron Works Patagonia
235 West Santa Clara Street, Ventura, CA 93001-2717, ph: 805.643.6074
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• TUESDAY, 24th of April
“Curtain of 28,500 Origami Whales” Stitching Party
5:30-8:30 PM
The Treasure Hunt
919 Maple Avenue, Carpinteria, CA. 93013, ph: 684.3360
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• WEDNESDAY, 25th of April
“Curtain of 28,500 Origami Whales” Stitching Party
6:00-9:00 PM
Arcobaleno Trade
7 W. Haley St., Santa Barbara, CA. 93101, ph: 963.2726
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• THURSDAY, 26th of April
“Curtain of 28,500 Origami Whales” Stitching Party
2-7 PM
Carpinteria Community Arts Center (outdoors by the arbor)*
855 Linden Avenue, Carpinteria, CA 93013, ph: 684.3573
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• SATURDAY, 28th of April
“Curtain of 28,500 Origami Whales” Stitching Party
12-5 PM
Carpinteria Community Arts Center (outdoors by the arbor)*
855 Linden Avenue, Carpinteria, CA 93013, ph: 684.3573
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• SUNDAY, 29th of April
“Curtain of 28,500 Origami Whales” Stitching Party
12-5 PM
Carpinteria Community Arts Center (outdoors by the arbor)*
855 Linden Avenue, Carpinteria, CA 93013, ph: 684.3573
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* In the event of "user unfriendly weather", please call 684.3573 for alternate indoor location.
Peggy and the curtain: Photo Courtesy of Matt Dayka
Posted April 2007 Blue Edge Magazine. All rights reserved.
Atolis Fanditha: Black Magic from Coraline Reefs
By Michael Kew
Photos by David Pu'u
A sunny, numb, mid-week afternoon. Nothing but birdsong and the breeze. I doze at home, dreaming of solace in an island paradise. Good waves exist there, the natives are happy and friendly. It is a peaceful, divine place. The sun is endless, like Southern California of late, and no one has surfed there. These are virginal isles in the middle of infinitude, ripe for discovery and—yes, I am dreaming—a surf excursion is slated for next month.
Neither shipwreck nor human sacrifice enters the psyche of a surfer wreathed in the barrel of a utopian tropical aquarium. After all, alighting to the Laccadive Sea for a clandestine junket of waves and color veiled the promise of conjecture and sultanic dynasties, not travesty and sin.
Medieval maps portrayed the islands as threatening ranks of shark-like teeth. This were, after all, the Maldives—sensationally hazardous to mariners, a sublime archipelago of the Chagos Ridge, unseen by blue Western eyes and unsurfed to the hymns of Allah…until now.
Such locales entice adventure and hidden loot. A California delegation sought these floating pearls, steeped in the mystic aura preceding distant Arabias. On tap was The New and Different. What they found were The Idioms of Magic, like only such a place can instill.
In the Maldives, jinnis are cosmic specters existing parallel with tangible life forms, much like angels and humans. Jinnis who deviate, however, are blamed for everything bad that happens to the local people.
Jinnis live anywhere unsuitable for humans—the seafloor, cemeteries, thorny bushes—and emerge at peculiar moments of inconvenience for the islanders, wrongdoers or no. These islanders say the sea surrounding their main atoll is haunted by an evil jinni of enormous power, demanding frequent sacrifice of young female virgins. Girls are kidnapped and abandoned, tied to a pole on the beach at dusk, found raped and dead at dawn.
Ancient Islamic explorer Ibn Battuta: “I looked to sea and there was something like a great ship which seemed as though it were full of lamps and torches.”
Aligulha, or fireballs, are apparitions from the world of jinnis—spirits under the guise of flame. After surfing a dreamy right-hand barrel, a gaunt, engaging fisherman motored up to our boat and described a phenomenon he’d recently witnessed while working with his crew of five a half-mile offshore the isle of Suheli. One twilight, he was tormented by one of these jinnis appearing as a fireball, first clinging to the mast then jouncing atop the sea surface aside the ship, taunting its crew.
The man attacked it with a fishing pole, but struck nothing solid. In the wake of the thing's distaste for the animosity from the man and his crew, the fireball constructed illusions of great dimensions.
"Suddenly we found ourselves in shallow water," the man told me. "Then, on the horizon, a whale surfaced, its mouth wide open, its teeth glowing. It was coming straight at us to swallow our ship!
"We quickly motored back the island and narrowly managed to dodge the whale by reaching the sanctuary of the lagoon. Then, just as soon as it had appeared, the beast and fireball vanished. The lagoon saved us."
Other fishermen regaled us with stories of fireballs, detailing a pattern of similarity in the fireball behavior: they appear magically and stick themselves on the ship's mast. Fisherman then dip a cloth into a fish paste and offer it to the fireball, which will leap onto the ship's deck and roll overboard, not to reappear that particular night.
Origins of the Maldives’ pre-Muslim culture are vague and vulnerable to speculation. Legend says that, pre-Christ, the isles were inhabited by a sun-worshipping society of the Amin people, a pagan, worldly stew of seafaring Romans, Egyptians, Mesopotamians, and Indus Valleyites. Their home existed in the center of an ancient maritime trading crossroads, renowned for its abundance of white cowry shells, widely cherished units of currency from the mountains of Tibet to the deserts of Mauritania.
The Amin thought their seas to be possessed by jinnis, aquatic demons of many names and shapes, full of black magic, responsible for anything unexplainable by education or religion. One jinni was the Dalhan, which paralyzed shipwrecked sailors with its horrific shrieks before gorging on human flesh, tainting blue sea with red blood. Another jinni required deliberate sacrifice, notably with virgin girls placed at seafront temples at dusk for a jinni’s midnight snack.
Islam arrived in 1153 AD via a North African Arabic saint, who, according to scholars, converted the islands after convincing the Amin king that Islamic faith had the power to control even the most baneful jinni. The king hence ordered his people to embrace Islam, and the saint was rewarded with the title of sultan.
Social life in the Maldives was steeped in fanditha, a mélange of spirit charms, magic, and folk medicine, founded on beliefs and superstitions circa the Amin, but with the addition of Arabic verses from the Quran, Islam’s holy book. Fanditha was used to combat the evil jinnis plaguing fishermen and sailors, many of whom vanished without a trace.
White magic flourished under these circumstances, additionally used in political intrigue, courtship and marriage rites, in launching virgin boats, ensuring good fishing, finding guilty parties when a crime had been committed, and treating the sick. Fanditha assumed less benign forms when it was employed to weaken or kill enemies.
In 2004 AD the Maldives were a pious, barefooted society shrouded in jungle and dense equatorial air, which, on windless days, settled and corrupted all human motion into a lethargic leak of sweat. Here was a valid, smiling people, slight of stature, licorice-skinned, circumspect yet sophisticated, living by selling dried fish, coconut-fiber rope, and cowry shells.
Their islands were infused with magic spanning the entire metaphysical spectrum, today undwelling on the fanditha but focusing on geological mastery and its deft acquittance of all vice, pollution, profanity, occultism.
Blandness and religious deviates cannot remain afloat. Immoral incarnates are unknown, nor are thieves or murderers. Booze and porn are shunned, mirroring the purity of this Laccadive Sea, essentially an aqueous turquoise canvas nurturing multicolored gardens—living colonies of coral polyps—and frequent swells.
Rumors loomed of inconsistency, high costs, flooding, U.S. resentment, terrorism, sharks, lack of access. The locals promised that black magic would maim—possibly kill—us if we ventured into forbidden sea, where fearsome waves caressed the backs of diabolical jinnis hunkered invisibly inside the reef. Black magic created the breaking waves; they had taken many native lives and destroyed many good intentions from eons ago.
* * *
Magic, as we saw it, was a dreamy blue, not black, existing in the perfect lineups spooling around the Maldives’ unseen reef passes—one of those environs you always fantasized of but soundly denied. Viewed bird’s-eye, the islands were convoluted pockmarks of coral, shimmering, idyllic. From the land, they were glary, sandy oases of searing heat, bristling with breadfruit and coconut palms, enhanced by fluorescent lagoons. And from the sea, they were hallucinogenic green smudges on the horizon, trinkets of coral atop a submerged volcanic ridge, wholly unsullied by the 21st century.
Out there, so very far away, wickedness manifested itself as reef lacerations, heatstroke, sunburn, and dehydration. For the surfer, malevolence is boredom and flatness. For the Maldivian, it is garrulousness and unenlightenment. Benevolence for all would be a bounteous sea and absence of serpent-like behavior, both at home and abroad. To the natives, otherworldliness of wealthy vacationers imported occasional drunken conduct and selfish motives. After all, they viewed kayaking and windsurfing as sporty narcissism, roguish myopics with poor taste in music and an overall evil intent.
Our wave-obsessed posture was regarded with frank suspicion. We were not divers or snorkelers or fishermen or honeymooners. We were not European executives working in Delhi or Dubai. We preferred not the calm sanctuary of the lagoon, nor the reefy blue wilderness between the passes. Instead, we sought the hazards of shallow water, of remote, swell-exposed seas fronting uninhabited islands. Sharks and exposed coral heads dunked by whitewater were not a problem.
To the natives, however, we were perverse anomalies among their denseness of tradition, hence latent purveyors of black magic. Our surfboards were harmful spears, our scented sunscreen an elixir of evil, applied over our entire bodies to appease corrupted jinnis living beneath the surf. Like buoys, waves were designed to warn local mariners and the general public that jinnis indeed haunted these places. Reef passes with waves—especially those on uninhabited islands—were akin to the gates of Hell, with Satan lurking below. The lagoons were Heaven, where God walked on water.
These lagoons were avoided. As such, we were investigated.
Posted April 2007 Blue Edge Magazine. All rights reserved.
Profile: Aubrey Faulk
By Janna Irons
Photos: Jack Buttler
6:15 am. The simultaneous blare of alarms wakes thousands of young, intelligent women across the nation. They roll out of bed just in time to shower, dress, sit in traffic for an hour to spend the next eight behind a computer screen, before dragging themselves back through traffic home. Day after day, year after year is spent waiting for the two weeks a year of vacation, and the eventual comfort of retirement. Carpinteria resident Aubrey Falk is rooted in a different life philosophy. “Everything in our society trains us to be that way- fast and running to the future because that’s our only hope and salvation- being away from this moment,” she explains. “It’s all a matter of finding your talents and the gifts you have to offer.” As an exceptional surfer and artist, she carries with her the wisdom derived from ceaseless travel
experience and the values entwined in a small-town upbringing.
Growing up a quick, run-for-your-life freeway dash from the ocean in La Conchita, Aubrey Falk enjoyed a childhood full of all the benefits of a small-town beach community. Like the old adage “it takes a village to raise a child,” Aubrey’s interest in surfing may be greatly attributed to her seaside village. She credits a babysitter with introducing her to surfing by taking her out tandem for the first time at age 7, and a neighbor for her actual initiation into the sport through the gift of a used neon Kennedy quad, at age 12.
Now 24, Aubrey Falk has seen and experienced more than most of us have even dreamed of. Beginning with solo journeys to Hawaii and Costa Rica at only sixteen, she has since traveled to Australia, Thailand, Indonesia, and Mexico. Her first international adventure began as a study abroad program where she would finish her last few high school credits while living with a host family in a small mountain village in Costa Rica. While down in the surf town of Jaco, she met a local surfer girl, who was likely taken by
Aubrey’s genial disposition, and within moments of meeting, invited her to live with them in their home. Discontented by her current residence’s far distance from the ocean, she gladly accepted the offer and spent the next 6 months working in the family restaurant, surfing throughout Puntarenas and taking frequent solitary expeditions southward. In the eight months she spent there, she never ran into any burglary or other harm. “I don’t believe in luck, I think you attract what ever comes to you,” she tells me in her ever-grounded, optimistic way.
The variety of surf breaks and conditions she has experienced have shaped her into a phenomenal surfer, but have also allowed her to hone her skills as a painter. “I realized that’s what life is about.,” she tells me, “creating beautiful things.” Currently Aubrey’s paintings adorn the walls of the Brewhouse, serving not only for the ambiance of the restaurant, but as a great source of exposure for this humble artist. Her work can easily be mistaken for that of a seasoned, finely trained artisan, yet most of the work on display was created with no formal training. Her pieces predominantly feature the splendors of Santa Barbara, from the peeling point breaks to the rolling foothills and all that lies in between. She was blessed with the ability to translate the light and colors of nature on to canvas with remarkable accuracy and grace.
Aubrey is a person of impeccable balance. “Traveling has made me really grateful. After seeing the poverty and the way other people have to live, it’s made me really appreciate what we have here,” she explains. “We get so spoiled here. We live in this amazing place and so many people are unhappy. People are cutting their bodies open for plastic surgery… it’s crazy, the duality of that.” Aubrey recognizes the inadequacy of a life dominated by money and external beauty and has thus created an existence in which happiness is the currency and beauty is measured simply by its capacity to reflect nature.
Aubrey has worked the past several years as a tender on a dive boat off of the Channel Islands, which she describes as “really hard work, but amazing- a magical spot for sure.” Toting with her a wealth of nautical expertise, she recently accepted a position as crewmember aboard a surf charter boat in mainland Mexico. The Royal Pelagic, a 125 ft. revamped Alaskan King Crab fishing boat, equipped with three small skiffs and two jet skis, will explore the coast of Oaxaca, home of the recently publicized “new wave” Barra, and apparently a handful of equally perfect breaks. As a crewmember, Aubrey will be able to surf and experience Mexico alongside those who have paid thousands to embark on the same endeavor. Granted, she will be working while the ships guests are at play, but for Aubrey it’s just another chapter in the adventure tale of her life.
By some advantageous twist of fate, surfers have been blessed with a creativity that can often be translated to some other medium outside the water. Aubrey has thus discovered the key to being a successful “surf bum.” She has established a firm grasp on her priorities, harnessing her artistry and using it to construct of lifestyle of opulent simplicity. “Money doesn’t buy you happiness,” she explains, “You can have all the cars and houses in the world and still not find that peace. It’s not there. It’s not in the outside. It how you’re living your life and how that makes you feel.”
Perhaps the incessant blare of the 6:15 alarm is inescapable, but with a little imagination and determination, that noise can trumpet the jump-start of a dawn patrol session rather than the beginning of another leg of the perpetual rat race.
Posted April 2007 Blue Edge Magazine. All rights reserved.
Julia Christian
Julia has had a busy last year winning all kinds of events including the prestigious Honda Women's Open and the Lost ISA world surfing games in which she won the gold medal for the USA. Previous to this win the US placed 19th during the '04 games which was held in Ecuador. Julia deemed this placement as “pretty pathetic” and thought the US should at least be in the top three. So convinced that her team should win, Julia surfed her way to the gold medal for '06. The next games will be held in 2008 in Portugal.
So how did you get so good at surfing? Both of my older brothers surf, so I started tagging along with them. We lived a block from the beach and we would surf everyday. In the summer, I would spend all day at the beach surfing and body surfing. All that time I spent at the beach help me become a good surfer.
How were your years on the 'CT, how old were you when you first
qualified? The first time I qualified on the WCT I was 20 and again when I was 23. Being on the WCT was hard for me because I was the only girl from Cali and I had no travel partner, I was always traveling by myself and meeting up with the other girls. Also I had to surf waves like Teahupoo and here in Cali there are no waves to prepare you. I learned a lot and did better the second time. I enjoyed my time getting to go to new places, I've been lucky to see so much of the world.
Can you tell us about some of the highlights of your career? For me the best highlight was winning the US Open in 2005. I've also won some other big WQS events in France, Hawaii, Costa Rica, Lowers and the East Coast. Also winning the ISA Gold medal was really important. I took a lot of pride representing the USA and bringing home a gold medal.
Where are you living now? I'm between Carlsbad, California and Lima, Peru.
What were/are your most challenging moments in the contest
atmosphere? At contests it hard not to get nervous, but usually after the first heat it's better.
Is your dream trip still Peru? Yes because I always score good waves when I go there. There are really long lefts that are uncrowded.
Can you talk about the differences surfing Peru and California? California is mostly beach breaks and Peru there are point breaks. Peru is more consistent for waves and has bigger swells. The climates are about the same and the water temp too.
What was it like training with Magoo de la Rosa? Magoo is a great coach, he really helped me become a more fluid surfer. He also pushes you in bigger surf. He loves surfing and is very passionate about the sport and it rubs off on you.
Who would you say has influenced you the most as a surfer? It would be a combination of my brother and the local guys that I grew up with. I probably wouldn't be a surfer if I didn't have my brothers. When I was learning a lot of the local guys encouraged me and gave me waves. I get a lot of support for them too.
Is there other things in your life you are just as passionate about? My family and friends, without them life would be boring.
Are you married or single? I just got married in Nov. on the north shore [of Oahu] to Magoo De La Rosa.
Sponsors? Rip Curl, Channel Islands, Electric and Surfride
Do you still love Metallica? Which album do you like better Ride
the Lightning or Black and why? I love Metallica and I still have it painted on some of my boards. It always pumps me up to surf. My favorite album is And Justice for All.
You have traveled with some of surfing's most elite, who has been your toughest competitor? It's hard to single out just one of the girls because there are so many girls that are ripping. There are a lot of younger girls coming up and it's inspiring to see how good there are getting.
Who are your favorite surfers? Tom Curren; I just love his style.
Is there anyone who has inspired you who isn't necessarily in the
industry? My parents. They showed me that with hard work you can accomplish whatever you set your mind to.
How would you describe the progression/evolution of women's surfing? You just have to take a look and Carissa Moore or Coco Ho, those girls are so young and are already polished surfers.
Future plans or aspirations? Right now I'm just enjoying being on tour.
Posted April 2007 Blue Edge Magazine. All rights reserved.
Blue Edge News/Wavelengths
Wavelengths
Words and Photo by Michael Kew
The Revolution Will Be Televised
What women’s pro surfing is today.
Cusp of twilight ushers the day’s biggest wave into a pastel Indonesian lineup. Positioned are three age-thirtysomething Basque men and Australia’s Chelsea Georgeson, 2005 female world champ. Quickly she out-paddles the men and snags the backless beast, air-dropping sideways into the front-lit pit — backside, no less — instantly vanishing from view for the entire wave, eventually gliding into the channel, greeted by hoots and laughter and arms held high from everyone in sight.
“I’ve never seen a girl get barreled like that!” yells a red-faced, grinning Aussie, watching from the bow of an anchored yacht.
Two waves later, Hawai’i’s Melanie Bartels thrusts herself into a feathering lip and boosts several feet above it, accented by a stylish double-grab.
The Aussie cocks his head toward his two friends: “F---, mate, how was that bloody air?” Doubly impressed, they clap and smile agreeably, shaking their heads, raising cold Bintangs in deference to what they had just witnessed: the state of the art in professional women’s surfing, live and direct, fast and fresh, all captured on film for you to see, because, yes, the revolution will be televised.
I must confess that, before alighting seaward last year with six of the world’s best young female surfers (Georgeson, 23; Bartels, 25; Peru’s Sofia Mulanovich, 23; Australia’s Rebecca Woods, 22; Brazil’s Silvana Lima, 22; and Kauai’s Alana Blanchard, 17), I was just as naïve as the next guy: Pro women’s surfing? You mean those dull contests we see in two-foot slop? Gidget? Cute, bikinied longboarders at Malibu? Brawling lesbians? Roxy-clad teens? The countless surf camps and silly Blue Crush wannabes?
Stereotypes can be horrific mistruths, especially when applied to today’s female pros, who have raised the bar in a big way. They charge Cloudbreak, lacerate Lance’s, get shacked at the Superbank and towed at Teahupo’o. Aerials are landed, fins are popping out, rails are set deeply and rigidly, poising the perfectly positioned arc of spray.
We’ve all heard the sexist expression, “She surfs well, for a girl.” Some would argue that it holds true. Others say it will never change. But applied today, it’s simple: these women surf extremely well. Period.
Better than most? Believe it. On the recent all-girl boat trip, Surfing magazine photographer Dustin Humphrey said he’d done several projects on the same boat with men who didn’t surf half as well.
“I’m baffled,” he said after bagging more than a week’s worth of benchmark women’s surf imagery.
From afar — on this anchored boat, say — an average viewer would perhaps not realize he or she was watching a woman surf, because, as popular opinion tells us, females surf nowhere near as well as men — never have, never will. Of course, this is untrue. Today it is hardly a matter of gender comparison, which has been usurped in recent times by the simplicity of natural progress, embraced by the surfers and the industry itself. Relative equality is only a matter of time.
Rochelle Ballard knows this to be true, too. A standout from the previous generation who competes against the aforementioned young stars, Ballard has witnessed and participated in the transition first-hand, since launching her WCT career in 1997, when the professional female surf world was a different place.
“My generation broke down a lot of barriers,” she said. “This new generation has amazing resources: insane boards, coaching, great endorsements and support. They’ve learned from our mistakes and were inspired by our success to take it to the next level even sooner than we did.”
Fifteen years ago, Ballard wanted to become world champion early, then attend college, get a job, and build a family. She never dreamt she where she would be today, owning a nice house on the North Shore, living well off of surfing into her mid-30s.
“The generation before mine didn’t really have that opportunity,” Ballard said. “But now, Sofia and Chelsea have both each their first home, their first world title, and a very healthy income at the age of 22. Stephanie Gilmore won her fist WCT event as a senior in high school, instantly becoming an icon in Australia. It will be amazing to see what girls like Carissa Moore and Coco Ho do in the next few years.”
Indeed it will. Today’s generation is a portal to the future, and with the proverbial snowball gaining girth with each new face, the fundamental shift of paradigm within professional women’s surfing can only perpetuate the brightness which abounds today.
To All Surfers
Mass produced bio surfboards – buy one now…There is no excuse!
On Sunday the 28th of January 2007 I went for a very special and historic surf. Porthtowan beach in Cornwall was about 3 foot and glassy. The air temp was a pleasant 8 degrees.(thats degrees C)
Sitting waiting for a set I looked down into clear blue water. Years ago this would have been off-brown and full of shit, panty liners and condoms. For 10 years I ran Surfers Against Sewage and the 5 million gallons of raw sewage that was discharged daily into this break has gone. It’s a good feeling.
The whole time we campaigned we had a dirty little secret of our own – the surfboard, petro-chemical plastic with as little thought to the environment as a shipwrecked oil tanker.
On the 28th of January I was on a very special board, one I could be proud to surf. A Homeblown 48% Biofoam blank laminated in fibreglass cloth and 98% plant resin laminate developed by Sustainable Composites. I had great waves, in fact the waves seemed to roll my way, I was always in the right slot. It felt great.
Not only is the board over 50% plant-based and therefore renewable. Importantly the foam is blown here in the UK and will be blown in California (We have been in production in CA since Feb. 1 and for us here in the US, Chuck Menzel of Wetsand was instumental in moving the project forward), South Africa, Hawaii and Australia. This is many times more environmentally sound than blowing foam in one country and then transporting large blocks of air half way round the world as was the case in the Clark Foam days and continues to be the case for many manufacturers.
For 3 years we have worked as a small team at the Eden Project with Homeblown and Sustainable Composites towards an eco surfboard. We have been clear that ultimately a sustainable board must be equal to or better than conventional boards both in terms of quality and performance. We have cracked it. The only question being voiced is that it isn’t pure white.(To date in CA, the color, a light creme color, hasn't been an issue after all natural coffee filters are not white either) Well hey if that’s your problem and you think the colour of your board affects your surfing then you’re on the wrong planet.
Both Biofoam blanks and plant based resin laminating systems are available. Demand them from your board manufacturer or surf shop and demand them in the water and on the beach. Environmentally we’re all in deep shit ad now as surfers we can do something positive about our impact.
I stated on CNN in September 2006 that: “In ten years time the phrase eco surfboards won’t be used because all surfboards will be eco boards.” I stand by that phrase and urge you all to get on board.
This board is the future and it is now.
Chris Hines
Founder and Director of Surfers Against Sewage – 1990-2000
Sustainability Director, Eden Project.
Joint winner of the Surfers Path Emerald Wave Award
http://www.edenproject.com/
www.cnn.com/specials/2007/skewed.view/hines
http://www.homeblown.co.uk/
http://www.sustainablecomposites.co.uk/
Free World or Sea World?
By Joey Racano
With that far-away feeling you get during a sudden emergency, I sat transfixed before the television. Kandu the Orca created a scarlet tornado, spiraling to her death at the bottom of a Sea World swimming pool. Baby Shamu -her baby- circled helplessly at the surface. Some images haunt you for the rest of your life.
"She did it to herself", was the official word from Sea World. How a magnificent creature like that captures and holds herself hostage in a swimming pool is certainly beyond me, but who am I to argue with Sea World? After all, Sea World is a registered trademark of Anhauser Busch, the people who bring you Budweiser beer. And they know Killer Whales. Well they should; in the 1970's, so many Orcas were captured for amusement parks it resulted in an entire generation being removed from the wild.
Despite rosy pictures painted by Sea World, up to 60% of Orcas don't survive their first month of captivity, survivors have to suddenly switch to eating dead fish, and the pods from which they are taken can spend months searching in confusion for their missing. Also, there are many instances of Orcas and Pilot Whales attempting suicide by repeatedly ramming the walls of their enclosures, some succeeding.
There is another image that will last me a lifetime. A yellowing newspaper photo on my wall shows several hundred kids lining a rocky cliff in Iceland watching the approach of a U.S. Air Force cargo plane. It carried Keiko, an Orca rescued from captivity, flown to Iceland, and eventually released. Keiko starred as the Orca in the 'Free Willy' movie and eventually died a free Whale, all paid for by pennies collected during a successful global effort by children.
Brad Andrews, then vice president of zoological operations for Sea World theme parks said predictably, "This is just another step in the fantasy. I hope it doesn't affect him adversely".
As a civilization newly awakened to our role in changing the planet, we must bring the practice of capturing, holding and tormenting these intelligent creatures to an end. Enforcing the Marine Mammal Protection Act at Casa Beach in San Diego would be a good place to start.
Joey Racano, Director
Ocean Outfall Group
StopTheWaiver.com and OOG (Oean Outfall Group) are part of a grass-roots diverse group of Citizens concerned about the rapid loss of wetlands, habitat, species and the unfettered march of developers. OOG gets results.
Reader's Letters
By L. Paul Mann
Okay, I am too old and out of shape to take on the role of enforcer, but I feigned the position while trying to get into a relaxing surf on a recent sunny weekend at Rincon. But I was thwarted in my attempt to repeat the pleasant surf I had the day before. Instead, I am embarrassed to admit that the veins stood up on my neck as I ranted and raved, until I felt myself nearing heart attack stage.
The first offender was a jet skier going back and forth across the beach break and top of Rincon point at the indicator, surfing and jumping waves. I screamed in vain at him as he came closer to the line-up, the onshore west winds blowing a steady stench of 2-stroke fuel across the entire beach. As far as I know, jet skies were banned from the Rincon over a dozen years ago.
If that weren’t bad enough my rage grew uncontrollable as a guy on a “GOON SPOON” paddled up the point and began riding waves at the indicator. The 'Goon Spoon' is the name I have coined for Laird Hamilton’s reintroduction of the ancient stand up paddleboard. Laird popularized this old contraption over the last few years, at Little Dume, near Malibu. Born out of his boredom from being stuck in an area with small waves, while he pursued a living in Hollywood, he experimented with this traditional precursor to surfing. The 'Goon Spoon' caught on like wildfire with the Hollywood set that never learned to surf and found it an easy way to sneak into the sport without any real skills. Soon there were as many as six or eight of these dinosaurs on the outer point of Little Dume on a sunny day. What had once been a consistently rippable wave had become ruined with these oversized dinosaurs crowding the line up.
So as I sat at the indicator with diesel fumes permeating the area, my blood was already boiling, as the guy on the GOON SPOON paddled towards me. As he approached I asked, “What are you thinking?--this is Rincon.” I explained that if he wanted to ride this dangerous device he should go up to the beach break or down to Mondos, away from regular board surfers. He indicated that I was the only one unnerved by his presence. A short time later I caught a wave and as I came up on the rivermouth, he lay struggling in the water with his paddle, his 14 foot long board laying across the line up. Having no where to go I ran straight in to him and proceeded to scream at him until red in the face for dinging my board.
Nobody wants to be the bad guy and the old enforcers have faded away in a New World of lawsuits and crowded chaotic conditions. But the old enforcers were not necessarily about being selfish or greedy. We all want the same thing when we are surfing--as many uninterrupted waves as we can get. What the Old School had in mind, was a set of rules based on respect. If someone screwed up, they were challenged for not showing respect.
I learned my lesson when I first went off to college in Hawaii. The first time I surfed Velzyland on a good day, I caught a great wave, and a young Hawaiian tried to drop in on me. I pushed the front of his board and he went over the falls as I tucked into a fat little barrel. When I paddled back out there was a crowd of locals waiting for me. They circled me as the young surfer came up and proceeded to slam his board into my face. I had two black eyes for a month, but I paddled back out the next day, at the same spot, and nobody ever bothered me again. I had learned my lesson of respect for the locals and I never gave them another reason to confront me.
Goon Spoons are just another sport and like tow surfing, is fine if it is done away from a crowd of regular surfers. But they are disrespectful and dangerous to anyone in a normal surf line up. It is impossible to control these Rhinoceros sized boards during a wipe out and they are literally life threatening to nearby surfers.
I think it is time for a new generation of locals to take on the role of water patrol enforcers and ensure our safety so we can all have more fun in the water.
Posted April 2007 Blue Edge Magazine. All rights reserved.
