The modern day surf vehicle comes in a variety of surf scoring packages ranging from barely operable to economy class on up to the “high society” roving land yacht.  Whatever flavor a surfer chooses (or can afford), there are a few basic necessities a surfer needs in order to operate and maintain a fully functioning surf vehicle.  First and foremost there needs to be some space available either inside (preferred) or on the roof via surf racks (lockable) to securely stow and transport their coveted wave riding vehicles.  Next, unless you’ve always had an underlying passion to harvest mold spores, the surf vehicle will need to be equipped with a self contained, waterproof Tupperware container to store all those wet, soggy, pee infused wetsuits and rash guards (sick!!).  Other “nice to have” options are a changing mat for changing in public, a ding repair/ First Aid kit for mending those rail cracks and mere flesh wounds on the fly, a water jug or portable shower to wash off the funk, a sun visor for the dash to protect your ride from internal 3^rd degree burns, and some bumping beats for the pre-surf pump up inspiration.  Perhaps the most difficult aspect of choosing a surf vehicle lies in the balancing act between surf practicality vs. everyday luxury (i.e.- what might get readily thrashed by a constant influx of salt, sand, and melted surf wax on those nice leather seats).  Keep in mind, a surfers’ vehicle receives more annual accumulation of sand than some ski resorts receive in snow over seasons!  Unless you enjoy obsessing about your vehicle or berating you bros about every speck of sand on their feet, you might save yourself a lot of time vacuuming and some friendships by keeping things simple, salty, and surfy.

As usual here at SSL, we couldn’t help but delve deeper into some of the more colorful surf vehicles you might come across in any surf town or feral surf trip excursion.  While it would be nearly impossible (and not nearly as fun!) to commemorate every make and model of surf vehicle out there, we have chosen a generalized selection of surf vehicles that we feel add a bit of flavor to the everyday surfing mix.  Read on… you just might recognize or drive one of these awesome (…..or not so awesome) surf vehicles yourself!

The Creepy “Chester Molester” Surf Van – If B.A. Barrachus (a.k.a. – “Mr. T”) was still wrecking shit in his A-team van, he’d “pity da fool” that drove this thing!  Often parked (emphasis on “Parked!”) near beachside parks or at the end of your street for days, weeks, or even months on end (until the cops get wind), these vehicles are more extend-a-stay surfside accommodation than everyday transportation (think Randy Quaid in “Christmas Vacation”).  While The Creepy “Chester Molester” Surf Van” might be on the hotlist for a new vehicular Megan’s Law, here’s one not so creepy surf van we feel can park at the end of our block anytime they want!

The Grom Mobile – The Grom Mobile can take many forms depending on the demographics and income brackets of the parents who give them these hand me down (see “Beater” below) surf vehicles to be…. (Unless of course they happen to be “Trustafarians-In-Training” (TITs) or Silver Spoons – See “Yuppie Ride” below).  Within the first week of acquiring their license and scoring their set of “hell on wheels”, The Grom Mobile will be plastered with a fresh coating of “buy my poster” surf stickers representing the various food groups of the surf industry and “counter-culture” establishments.  Rolling up to their favorite surf breaks with half the neighborhood in tow, The Grom Mobile is like a roving party boy limo busting mad beats, heart tinged emo chords, pop punk, and any genre of underground music that nobody has ever heard of but will unfortunately now (can you say – “ear rape”?) if they happen to be within a 2-mile radius.  The Grom Mobile is a grom’s first taste of freedom from mom and dad and a catalyst for surfing new and far away breaks previously unknown.  No longer relegated to bumming rides from older brothers/sisters, friends, and soccer moms, The Grom Mobile provides an all out feeding frenzy of new experiences for the Grom and rightfully so.  After all those years of riding a bike back home in the dark, surfboard in tow, wetsuit dripping, and completely spent from surfing all day; the young Grom now claims what is rightfully theirs (a license!!) as they no longer have to feel that shuddering blast of loser denial whilst cars go flying past with heaters on full blast!

The Beater - Feeling like taking a nice leisurely Sunday drive down to Mexico? Looking to transport yourself and as many of your bros as possible into sketchy 3^rd world countries lickety split? Do you sometimes fantasize about letting the parking brake go and watching a free fireworks display as your car careens into the ravine? Well then my friend, you are the next contestant on The Beater Car network!!  This car comes complete with peeling paint, an oil guzzling addiction, and very questionable reliability (Sound good!!? It’s yours!!).  It could keep going like the Energizer Bunny for another 100,000 miles or it might just conk out around the next desolate corner with no help for miles – it’s anybody’s guess really.  The Beater as its name implies is “BEAT” but that’s not always such a bad thing when you’re trying not to draw too much attention to yourself.  A good option for flying under the radar in foreign countries, getting a tax write-off when you donate it to charity, or for use as a hand me down Grom Mobile.

The Yuppie Ride – If Richie Rich grew up to be a surfer, he’d probably opt for one of these top-of-the-line vehicles and have his butler detail it for him after every surf.  Known as the Beamers, Mercedes, Audi’s, Porsche’s, and Range Rovers of the high end car industry; the Yuppie Rides are excellent choices for hitting the town, commuting to work, and entertaining clients, but not so great for mixing salt, sand, boards, wax, and stinky wetsuits with leather and expensive fixtures.  In addition, these are not the type of vehicles that you would want to drive into crime ridden countries or leave unattended for long periods of time on the side of the road while surfing.  The Yuppie Ride almost always comes equipped with an alarm system that lulls its neighbors to sleep with ear wrenching lullabies at odd hours of the night while effectively deterring absolutely zero would be criminals.

(Ode to Car Alarm – “Dear Car Alarm that goes off for hours on end in the middle of the night.  No one is coming to rescue you or calling the police on behalf of your incessant, obnoxious screeching.  Please die a timely death like all outdated, worthless technology eventually does. Adieu!!”).

The Woodie – The Woodie is a flashback to an earlier era in surfing history.  Known as a “Woodie” because it typically comes coated with a wood veneer on the back 2/3^rd’s of the vehicle, the Woodie was the real deal surf mobile back in the days of Gidget and Dora.  These are collector cars nowadays and there are even several well established road shows and parades dedicated to these classic surf vehicles.  Ask your dad or grandpa – they know!  For more on Woodies and their rich surf based history check out this site.

The Compact Cruiser (a.k.a. “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride” or “Lil Pepe) – The Compact Cruiser is a lightweight, gas efficient, no frills breed of surf vehicle.  Typically taking the form of a small car or hatchback model; they shake, rattle, and roll like a flimsy tin can and you may at times feel like a simple gust of wind could be your final demise.  On a positive note, they do get the surfer from Point A to B without breaking the bank (i.e. – Economical = Good).  It’s usually necessary to put the boards on the roof with a set of sturdy surf racks to save room (unless of course you enjoy sitting on your bro’s lap as boards prod you in the ass).   Some models come with retractable back seats to put boards in through the trunk or there’s always the option of reclining the front passenger seat to tote your board around town like a hot date.  Get a room you two!!

The Big Boy Tonka Truck (a.k.a. – “I have a small wee wee”) – Let’s get one thing straight – Monster Truck Rally’s rule!!  They air over cars and crush stuff (we like it, carnage is cool!!)  But driving a monster truck on a daily basis on municipal roads for work or surf just seems silly.  They suck up liquid gold gas quicker than an OC golddiggin’ housewife looking for a divorce without a pre-nup and they’re a bitch to park. What are you trying to prove anyways? (or make up for!!??)  It becomes even lamer when you know that the person driving it has never taken their ride off-road or if it even comes equipped with 4-wheel drive to begin with (puulleasee!!).  Luckily there is a saving grace in this category as exhibited by Brian Conley’s large n’ in charge “Hurricane Hunter”.  Clocking in at a paltry $100,000 investment, this beast has all the bells and whistles a surfer needs to hit the dusty road and score epic uncrowded waves in far away, desolate places (think Baja, Mexico).  This ride is 5-Star accommodations on the fly.  I wonder if he picks up hitchhikers?

The Surf RV – When most people think of RV’s they get a mental image of senior citizens touring our nation’s network of state parks and recreational areas in oversized mobile homes whilst driving an obnoxiously geriatric speed of 40 mph in the fast lane.  All that was thrown out the window the moment “The Drive Thru Surf Series” was released to the modern surfing world.  This wanderlust surf series throws several world class surfers into a sweaty, cramped RV for two week road trips through some of the planet’s most ripe, wave rich zones.  While we’re pretty certain it would blow to drive this rig on an everyday basis, it could be fun to wreak havoc in on a surf road trip (just don’t ask us to park the beast!).

The Surf Trip Rental Car – These cars take a real beating!  Depending on where you travel (or who you travel with) you might just want to save yourself the pain and pony up the extra insurance to foot the impending bill.  The Surf Trip Rental Car gets thrashed day in and day out with salt, sand, sweat and body odors from every orifice (think hotboxing full of farts and 3^rd World gastrointestinal goodness seasoned with a side of extra humid tropical heat – check please!!).  This car screams tourist, gringo, haole, or whatever derogatory word the world has come up with to describe “out of place” and “not local”.  Potential mishaps that can occur (hence the insurance) from order of severity are the random flat tire, the entire desecration of the vehicle’s undercarriage due to leviathan sized 3^rd world potholes, flipping over of the vehicle whilst driving highly intoxicated on the beach (See Dude Cruise), or the ever popular locking the car only to have the windows busted out and items stolen as a welcoming gift (thanks Costa Rica!).

The “Super Deluxe” 4X4 Surf Van (a.k.a. – Baja Destroyer!!) – If Xzibit had the steez to pimp a surfers’ ride, he would undoubtedly produce a beauty like this!  This surf vehicle has it all!  Specially customized to accommodate the latest and greatest gadgetry as well as serious 4×4 muscle under the hood, The “Super Deluxe” 4×4 Surf Van is a surfer’s wet dream for wanderlust surf excursions in style!

The VW Bus/ Vanagon – The VW Bus is a classic surf vehicle hailing from the hippidy dippity, “far out” days of the 60’s and 70’s.  It along with its updated counterpart – The Vanagon, is synonymous with extended surf treks and camping out by the beach for days or weeks on end to score epic surf (think camping out in Hossegor, France milking the swell).  It comes Spicoli pre-approved and is voted most likely to showcase a large selection of earth friendly, politically oriented bumper stickers on its exterior (See “Coexist”, “Grateful Dead”, but probably not this one).

The Surf Scooter – The Surf Scooter is the surfers’ solution for short trips up and down the coast. It is especially helpful during the Summer months for weaving in and out of traffic and for finding an often times non-existent parking spot.  Outfitted with a surf rack on the side, the Surf Scooter is a peppy, gas efficient solution for the surfer who likes to air dry on the way home from a surf sesh.  To learn more click here.

Point Breaks are true gems in an ocean full of featureless bottom contours and straight angled coastlines.  One look at Google Earth and it becomes painfully obvious that certain parts of the Globe have an abundance of these wave tapering topographies while other coastlines get the shaft (think East Coast of USA).  To the detriment of the surfer, point breaks are a feast or famine type of proposition.  It’s almost as if when God created the Earth in 7 days he hit the snooze button on the “point break creation proclamation” blessing certain locales with 2 parts rock, 1 part headland, while leaving other areas to squabble over shifty sandbars and a fleeting prayer that tomorrow will finally be the day when the waves don’t closeout.  All blasphemy aside, there are point breaks out there that have yet to be discovered and are being discovered on a daily basis.  Take for instance the running of Rip Curl’s WCT Event at the once obscure right-hander down in Mexico known as “La Jolla” or the amazing footage of Cory Lopez getting shacked silly on a never ending lefthander somewhere in Africa.  And who can forget the classic footage of two young surfers ascending that last sand dune to find untapped point break perfection at Cape St. Francis in Bruce Brown’s epic “Endless Summer” documentary.  Just another day of living the dream – seek and ye shall score!!

The word “stoked” is by far one of surfing’s most popular adjectives.  “Dude, I’m stoked!”, “We’re so stoked!”, “You’re STOKED!!!” are all in a days work for the modern day surfer.  Hang around with surfers long enough and you will undoubtedly bear witness to its use as one of surfing’s most prolific everyday surf lingo vernacular.  It’s a word that knows no bounds, especially when spending time with those who like to brag about scoring epic surf, watching copious amounts of Fuel TV, or if you happen to find yourself hanging out at surf industry functions like the Surfer Poll Awards, ASR (serious bro-down), or a WCT winner’s podium in which case you will hear a lot of it!   It’s moments like these where you could probably get drunk off your face if you decided to play drinking games every time a surfer uttered the word.  Nevertheless, being “stoked” is nothing to be ashamed of but rather embraced.  It’s a celebration of good times, great waves, and the recognition of the many ways the surfing lifestyle enhances our daily lives.  It’s there for us like a shield to protect us from all the clueless naysayers trying to bring the surfer dude down.  Being “stoked” like surfing is more than just a word but a way of life.  Be stoked that you’re a surfer and know the difference.  Keep the stoke alive!

For surfers, flip flops are practically a part of our d.n.a.  Just as surfing is seen as pure freedom, flip flops are liberation for our feet.  They’re like a convertible with the top down throwing inhibitions (..and possibly toe jam) to the wind.  Sauntering down to our favorite beaches for a quick surf, the flip flop is there for us and our feet in their time of need.  They wait for us patiently while we surf and are there to greet us as we get out of the water just so long as they don’t wear a hefty price tag on them beckoning “come steal me!” (i.e.- only cost $20 or less) or somebody’s dog didn’t mistake them as a chew toy.  Surfers quickly grow attached to their flip flops forming bonds of embedded toe and heel prints into the body of the sole.  But much like a six month High School romance, the writing is on the wall and one day the flip flop’s toe strap breaks and it’s all over before it really even had a chance to begin.

Ode to Flip Flop’s Passing:  “R.I.P. dear Flip Flop.  We will remember you and all the joy you brought our feet.  We tried to resuscitate you but our MacGyver like attempt to reconnect the toe strap was amateur at best.  We will try and recycle you so that you may come back in another life (presumably in a Chinese factory) and bring happiness to another surfer’s feet.  Yours Truly, Surfer Dude”

To shed some more light on the array of flip flop options out there, SSL would like to recognize and poke fun at some of the companies that make these glorious flip flops.  While nearly every major surf company sells them, we’d like to focus on the more core contenders who make it their business to produce the highest quality flip flops available.  If we miss someone, please feel free to add them on our comments section and we can update the post as needed to include them.  Enjoy!

Astrodeck:  Well know for being one of the first in the industry to make traction pads, Astrodeck now makes sandals with the same traction patterns built into their sandals.  Now you never have to lose that classic Astrodeck feeling of grip it and rip it!

Cobian:  Their slogan is “Walk with us” and you may just want to as they make reasonably priced flip flops that hold up quite well over time.

Flojos:  Flojos have been around since 1979 and were extremely popular back in the bitchin’ 80’s.  They are making a comeback and have an especially popular girls line.

Havaianas:  Hailing from Brazil, makes a simple, rubber thonged flip flop with the use of florals and bright colors.  Popular with the ladies. 

Kustom:  Makes a wide range of comfortable rubber and leather flip flops worth checking out.

Locals:  It used to be you could only get these if you were in Hawaii.  Now they are available in select shops on the Mainland.  They are a classic, very inexpensive flip flop worth having in the surf sesh repertoire.

Ocean Minded:  A sustainably minded, earth friendly sandal company to the core.  They use recycled plastics and materials to make their stylin’ flip flops.  They also organize numerous beach cleanups and work to promote a cleaner environment through the sale of their products.   When they’re not too busy saving the world, they’re adding to its beauty and our eye candy enjoyment by sponsoring surfer twin hotties like these. 

Rainbow Sandals:  This company makes very high end leather sandals that last a long time.  In fact, it is not uncommon to see surfers wearing these flip flops for years until they are worn down to mere nubs, yet the toe strap survives!  Worth the money and it has a great entrepreneurial rags to riches story behind its founding in a garage in Laguna Beach.

Reef:  The undeniable leader in flip flops, sandals, thongs, whatever you want to call it.  Speaking of thongs, just check out their Reef Brazil Ads! Enough said!  They even make a Mick Fanning Pro Model Sandal complete with a bottle opener embedded in the underside of the sole for those who enjoy mixing bubble gum, toe jam, and residual dog poo with their beer of choice.  All in all, pretty cool!

Sanuk:  Sanuk flip flops are fun.  They reek of creativity and funkadelic-ness.  Like Ocean Minded, they are pretty earth friendly and they even make a flop in the likeness of an artificial putting green.  Fore!!

Scott:  Original Hawaii Sandals since 1932.  Also called “Slippahs”.  High end and last a long time like Rainbows.  A good choice for upping your game on nights out whilst wearing your man blouse (no popping collar please).

For the modern day surfer, scoring uncrowded surf is an illusive and trying endeavor to say the least.  Short of paddling out down the beach to subpar waves or taking a far flung and oft times expensive surf trip, surfing locally and dealing with the crowds is the only option we have.  Lo and behold, after enduring so many crowded sessions complete with paddle battles, back paddling, and copious amounts of stink-eye, eventually a day dawns where by cosmic forces of chance the local lineups thin out and uncrowded surf conditions reign.  It is rare occasions like these that are cause for unadulterated celebration for the ever diligent surfer.  As if in some alternative universe straight out of the Twilight Zone, the surfer may initially enter into a mild state of shock at their newfound good luck.  They can’t help but second guess their enviable position.  While they gorge themselves on the set waves of their choice, the surfer will mutter to themselves or a bro within earshot, “where is everybody?” knowing full well that they don’t want to know the answer or risk jinxing their amazingly uncrowded surf session.  Periodically the surfer will frenetically scan the beach half expecting a mutant army of surf starved surfers to appear any minute around the bend like a zombie scene straight out of the movie “Night of the Living Dead”.  If it’s really firing the surfers’ mind might start to play tricks on them such as, “was there a shark attack here?”; “am I asleep and only dreaming this?”; or “wow, I guess all that sewage runoff from the recent rain we just had really could be cause for contracting Hepatitis, super!”  At the end of the day, the surfer will revel in their good fortune of getting it good without the hassles of a crowded lineup.  This will of course be brought to every other surfer’s attention that wasn’t there in the form of more shameless bragging about scoring epic surf.  This in turn will let the cat out of the bag on the uncrowded surf sitch and the next day will find 50+ eager surfers circumventing the lineup on a rumor that it was firing yesterday with nobody out.  “Hmmmmm…..Might want to get it while the getting is good!! Crowds suck bro!!”

The rise of Wilbur Kookmeyer’s popularity is perhaps unrivaled to this day in the echelon of surf animation.  But while the Kookmeyer series might have seemed on the surface to be just another campy comic strip there was more than meets the eye.  Beyond its scope of masterful animation and witty dialogue, the Wilbur Kookmeyer series was actually a satire of the rapidly commercializing surf industry and the desecration of the soul and individuality of the sport of surfing for profits sake.  Wilbur personified and poked fun at all the wannabee surfers trickling into the surf scene in the mid-late 80’s as it suddenly became hip to be a surfer and look the part of the surfing lifestyle.  He provided a humorous outlet for surfers to vent their frustrations at the rapidly homogenizing surf industry and the puka shell touting wannabees that bought into it.  The underlying message of the comic strip was that surfing is not to be bought or sold and that if you still subscribe to that ideology, well then you’re just as Wilbur as Wilbur can be!!  On a lighter note, the comic series was a genius composition of surf doodlery.  Each animation was a work of art in its own rite. It helped to inspire a generation of burgeoning surf doodlers and bored out of their mind students to create works of surf art in their notebooks, trapper keepers, and paper bag covered school books rather than fall into a comatose induced drooling state upon their desk.  Unofficial contests were held during lunch breaks to see who could draw the raddest waves and wanderlust surf imagery in the likeness of the Wilbur Kookmeyer strip’s exotic animated locales.  It wasn’t until years later that animator Penuelas actually showed us the way by posting his “how to draw a cartoon wave- the Wilbur Kookmeyer way” series.  Now there is no excuse to not be grinning ear to ear like a kindergartner when you post your latest surf doodle on the fridge!!  Wilbur Kookmeyer – A Surfing Legend!!

Paddling out is a highly variable experience for the surfer depending on when and where they choose to surf.  Unlike other sports where the playing field remains static, in surfing, no two go-outs are ever the same.  Paddling out requires dedication and mental as well as physical stamina to surmount the ever changing dynamics of the sea.  Erratic cleanup sneaker sets, rip tides, and angry walls of whitewater are all potential game changers of the paddling out experience.  One day conditions can be “surfer meets lazy river” where nary a hair gets wet and the next can produce an all out hell on earth paddle battle against detonating death walls of white water with your name on it!  When conditions are large n’ in charge, the paddling out game re-writes itself entirely and only those willing to take a few beatings need apply.  Paddling out becomes a series of heart thumping scratches for the horizon on par with a Michael Phelp’s Olympic qualifying 250 meter “mad-dash” as large black blobs rear their ugly heads from the depths of the oceanic abyss.  It should come as no surprise to the surfer who challenges Mother Nature on her own turf that sooner or later they too shall have to pay the piper!  These not so fun lickings can come in any variety of pain and panic inducing packages.  One option could be the infamous “having your board ripped out of your hands with a side of rag dolling along the ocean bottom until you can’t breathe so well anymore” scenario.  Or perhaps it’s the taunting heartbreak of nearly making it out to the lineup only to be sent packing for the beach as an angry outside canyon set swings your way, unleashing its wrath upon your vulnerable body like a calculated Mr. Miyagi Judo Chop to the head!! (Note -the only real benefit to this scenario is if you just so happened to scratch over that last bomber set wave.  This affords you the right to chuckle ever so briefly at all the less fortunate surfers left behind in the meat grinder.  Make sure not to laugh too long though – karma’s a biatch!!) 

Whether conditions are macking or a mere doggie paddle at the wave pool with Rick Kane, paddling out is here to stay. It’s as much a part of surfing as riding waves, perhaps even more so.  In fact, statistically speaking, surfers spend over 50% of their time paddling out and duckdiving with another 44% spent bobbing around in the lineup waiting for waves.  The actual riding of waves is only a mere 4 – 6%!!  With all the time surfers spend “not” surfing, perhaps some day in some far off existential surfing universe a surfer will compliment another surfer on some “nice paddling” versus catching a “sick wave”? Ok, admittedly not likely – probably just a pipedream born of oxygen deprivation from one too many brutal hold downs!!   But for all of paddling’s shortcomings, it does provide a surfer some undeniable bonuses.  For instance, it a) gets them into and out to multitudes of waves via their own motive power (i.e. – good exercise!), b) it provides them just the right amount of time to hoot their bros into waves as they scratch over the shoulder, c) gives the surfer time to curse themselves for kooking it on their last wave, d) allows them time to flaunt a shit eating grin for all to see as a testament to their freshly snagged epic ride, and perhaps most importantly, e) occasionally provides views like these!  When in doubt, paddle out!!

Check it out @: http://socalforecast.blogspot.com/

One might think that scoring epic surf in and of itself would be enough to satisfy even the most discerning surfer.  But sometimes the sheer enjoyment of scoring great surf just doesn’t cut it.  For these surfers, they need more, they need recognition!  Determined to get their day in the sun, these surfers cannot help but browbeat their fellow bros about how they just missed the most epic session ever (really???) or how waking up for the dawn patrol decidedly makes them a better person.  To make matters worse, in this technological age of hand held PDA devices and Web 2.0 social networking applications, no surfer is immune to the après-surf “You Missed Out” telecast.  The surfer will showcase their “all-time” surf sesh like a guest plug on the Jay Leno Show to all of their Facebook and Twitter friends as well as unleashing a barrage of voicemails and celebratory texts only to those bros who were NOT present.  It’s an unabashed cry for attention on the part of the bragging surfer which in no uncertain terms implies “I’m kind of a big deal!” and subsequently “Buy My Poster!!”  Inevitably on the day after scoring epic surf, the surfer will unleash their final ace in the hole while checking the waves.  When questioned by an unknowing surfer with a friendly “howsit look out there?” the response will ALWAYS be the quintessential surfer response of  “it’s o.k., but you should have been here yesterday.  It was Sooooo good!”  Next time, do yourself a favor and don’t bother to ask!  Rest assured you already know the answer.

(*Note -  When in the presence of a gloating surfer, do not attempt to impart your own story or embellish upon your most recent crappy surf sesh down the street as this will get you nowhere.  When in doubt, make up an excuse as to why you don’t have time to hear about their “all-time” surf sesh and run!!  If not, prepare to grit your teeth and settle in for a nice 20 minute infomercial on how they scored, you didn’t, and how you should really get your priorities straight.  If things get serious, they might even hand you a burned disc containing all of the photographic evidence of their sesh or invite you over to their house to watch the video.  Sweet!!!???  Make a mental note to pay them back tenfold come your next surf trip.  After all, sharing is caring!!!)

Localism in a broader sense has been around since the beginning of time.  It’s a “first come, first serve” feudal like claim to the resources of an area for the benefit of a privileged few.  For surfers, it’s the taking over of a certain break or wave rich region for the rights to surf its superior waves unobstructed by the likes of outsiders and to those who might pose a threat to the optimal wave/surfer ratio.  It is by all accounts a highly un-democratic process.  But to those akin to the wild animal kingdom, localism is a social enigma where there are undeniable winners and losers.  At its core essence, localism is a shamelessly selfish endeavor.  It is like a powerful aphrodisiac for the ego minded surfer crew hell bent on total wave annihilation domination.  It feeds upon itself in a vicious cycle of greed, intimidation, and resentment towards outsiders.  To add fuel to the fire, take a world class marquee surf break and cram it full of a large group of talented, testosterone infused surfers who think they own the place and you’ve got a ticking time bomb of localism induced mayhem ready to explode!

Surfers afflicted with the self-righteous localism bug are very much the territorial dog marking their own territory whenever possible.  These surfers like to leave endearing messages to other surfers like “No Kooks Allowed” or “Locals Only” etched into sidewalks with melted surf wax in a passive yet foreboding attempt to discourage outsiders from surfing their breaks with their sheepish “enter at your own risk” advertisements.  Often times this type of tagging is accompanied by a reference to an obscure group or local crew who must have spent hours mulling over what to call themselves but ran out of ideas and decided that an area code designation like “The 949 crew” or “The 808 Posse” would surely suffice.  Some better established groups like Da Hui as showcased in every surfer’s favorite movie – “The North Shore” have taken things to a completely different level, literally writing the book on localism and paving the way for other wannabe factions of localism to replicate themselves throughout countless lineups the world over.

Ask any surfer their opinion of localism and you will undoubtedly get mixed reviews.  Proponents of localism will say it provides order in the lineup and encourages respect to those surfers who have paid their dues in earning their place in the lineup.  Opponents will harp on the injustices of localism and its often Gestapo like enforcement of a few surfers’ rights to the best waves to the detriment of all the other surfers left scrambling for the scraps.  And then there is the endless debate over what truly constitutes being a local in the first place?  Is it contingent on having lived in the area all of your life (a.k.a. – born n’ bred) or is it more a combination of moving parts like how well a surfer surfs, how they are perceived or acknowledged by the community, or how assertive they are in the lineup?  The issue of localism and what constitutes being a local is subject to a million different interpretations and is a source of constant debate and friction amongst the surfing community.  At the end of the day, what surfers must really ask themselves is: “is localism for me?” and if so “how far am I willing to take it?”  Life perspective is key on this issue and many surfers will fall to the dark side like Darth Vader.  When in doubt, remember – “an asshole on land is an asshole in the water!”  Keep that in mind as you internalize your stance on the issue of localism.  Yeap, pretty much sums it up!

To further commemorate Localism, StuffSurfersLike would like to take this opportunity to poke some fun at the typical locals you might find floating around a lineup near you. After all, what would localism be without the colorful cast of characters that go along with it? Read on, you just might know one of these guys or be one of them yourself………

The Surly “Stink Eyed” Old Man Longboarder:

Every surf town has a ripe over abundance of these old timers. They typically sit way on the outside of a surf break in a “pow-wow” congregation with other members of their crew reminiscing about the good ol’ days and popping off dirty old man dialogue that they couldn’t get away with saying at home around the wifey or ex. They often drop in on anything and everything thus giving them their 2nd designation as “Local Wave Hog” due to their usually heavyset proportions and their propensity to snag every wave like a pig at the trough. When riding a wave, they usually exude a look of sheer determination conveying to other surfers, “by hell, you better get outta my way, I’m comin’ through!!!” In addition, these surfers generally discourage the use of leashes as a tribute to the good ol’ days when leashes didn’t exist and surfers had to swim for their boards after losing them. Be prepared to be run over or hit by one of their runaway boards only to receive a bountiful dose of stink eye as your apology when they see that you are wearing a leash (sissy stuff!!) Speaking of which, these old timers bring Stink Eye – “the look of utter disdain and disgust towards other surfers” to the ultimate level. Having swallowed the bitter pill years ago, it’s a wonder they still show up to the lineup on a regular basis and haven’t gone the ExPat route like so many of their former compadres that have since gone feral to stake their claim at surf breaks south of the border. (Of note, The Surly “Stink Eyed” Old Man Longboarder is a master manipulator within the local’s social hierarchy. They are like the Godfather. There isn’t anything they haven’t seen or done over their ancient history in the lineup. In fact, they probably wrote the playbook on Localism that is currently being used to wage power struggles in the surfer strata’s a few levels below.)

The Arrogant Washed Up Ex-Pro Surfer / Local Town Hero:

This surfer more than any other local probably deserves the rights and privileges that go along with scoring the best waves under the bylaws of Localism. They grew up in the area, put in their time, they rip, made a decent stab at making it as a pro surfer, and are well known by their local surfing community. Unfortunately for the other “local” surfers in the lineup who have to put up with this surfer, they won’t be scoring many set waves when this guy is around. The Arrogant Washed Up Ex-Pro Surfer / Local Town Hero surfer often has a big chip on their shoulder from not having made it in the big boy world of pro surfing. They are effectively a big fish in a small pond and they’re going to let everyone in their vicinity know it! With the implied backing of all the local bros, this surfer is pretty much free and clear to say or do whatever they want in the lineup creating an arrogant monster of epic proportions. This surfer will typically snub you, ignore you, or give you one word answers if you try and spark up a conversation with them or congratulate them on a sick wave they just caught. In rare circumstances, these surfers may converse with you if you happen to be accompanied by an industry “bro in the know” who could hook them up with a cush job in the surf industry (they’ll need it now). Watch out if you accidently get in the way of this surfer or effectively mess up their wave by inadvertently cutting them off. This is grounds for a splash battle, witnessing of a grown man doing his best impression of a 5 year old’s temper tantrum, or worse yet, an involuntary invitation to meet his buddy Chuey on the beach for a “talk”.

The Weekend Warrior:

The weekend warrior is a busy guy in and out of the water. He/she is pretty much the meat and potatoes of a local surfing community just trying to fit in a surf whenever they can find the time. Faced with more worldly obligations such as a steady 9-5 job, supporting their family, and bringing home the bacon, they typically have no concern or inclination to climb the social strata of a given surf break. Surfing is viewed as an opportunity to let loose and have fun rather than incur more stress over trivial matters such as localism. Their no nonsense, “let’s try and fit as many waves into this sesh as possible” mentality is the bane of the seasoned locals existence. In these instances, the “local” surfer will often paddle circles around The Weekend Warrior to let them know who’s boss and to try and validate some sense of control over the uncontrollable environment that is a weekend lineup. If it becomes too crowded or aggressive in the lineup for their tastes, The Weekend Warrior will often move up or down the beach in search of a less crowded wave to get their surfing fix before they have to head home for some yard work and a couple coldies in the lounge chair.

The Impressionable “Buy My Poster/ Sponsor Me” Surf Grom:

The Impressionable “Buy My Poster/ Sponsor Me” Surf Grom eats, sleeps, and breathes surfing. In their childhood innocence, their only concern is how quickly they can half-assedly complete their homework, score a ride to the beach from mom, and snag multiple seshs before its time to head home for dinner and do it all over again the next day. In direct opposition to The Surly “Stink Eye” Old Man Longboarder, these young surfers favor surfing with as many of their surfing friends as possible in a desperate attempt to show off their skills and gain recognition from their local brat pack peer group. Emulating the flashy moves of their favorite pro surfers gleaned from hours of careful study from the latest surf videos is top of the list for The Impressionable “Buy My Poster/ Sponsor Me” Surf Grom. Surfers in this group love the status symbol that stickers and labels from niche surf companies can provide them. They enjoy plastering these stickers all over their surfboard and fantasizing about travelling the world as a pro surfer. These surfers often join competitive organizations such as NSSA for regular entry into surf competitions, which breed surfers for bigger and better competitions down the road. The Impressionable “Buy My Poster/ Sponsor Me” Grom typically idolizes The Washed Up Ex Pro / Local Town Hero and he in kind often takes the young groms under his wing as he sees a bit of his former self in their conquest to become pro and dominate the lineup. The Groms, for better or worse, often learn the dynamics of Localism and its intricate power plays from the older generations as the baton gets passed from one generation to the next. Sometimes with all the heckling and trash-talking going on in the water within this peer group, you’d think you were witnessing a re-enactment of Piggy’s demise in Lord of the Flies. Who’s got the conch??

The Insta-Local:

This particularly rare and pompous surfer shows up to a break F.O.J. (“Fresh Off Jet”) and instantly acts as if they own the place. With little regard for anyone else, let alone the locals, this surfer will paddle battle, drop in wherever they please, and go around surfers to get priority of the peak. Depending on the locale and the intensity of its localism, this type of surfer may or not be able to get away with this kind of behavior for a short duration of time. Sooner or later, The Insta-Local gets put in their place and sent to the back of the line by someone bigger and gnarlier than them who demands respect (i.e.- Chuey). Examples of typical Insta-Locals are college students claiming their university town as their new home break, tourists who are competent enough to catch a wave & get in the way (i.e.- Zonies), and big budget surfers who fly halfway around the world for surf and mistakenly think this entitles them to an “All-You-Can-Eat” wave buffet (i.e.- travelling to wave rich, local heavy destinations like Bali, Hawaii, & Australia).

The Parking Lot Degenerate:

The Parking Lot Degenerate is a common fixture of any decaying surf scene. When you see too many of these guys loitering around you know things have gotten bad!! Often no more than a common street thug, these guys take it upon themselves to pick fights, let air out of/ slash tires, wax windshields, break into cars, and generally cause a ruckus all under the noble guise of protecting their local surf break. The Parking Lot Degenerate is at its core a jealous, angry, antagonizing bundle of loser denial. They feed off their ability to intimidate and strike fear into their surfing victims. As is often the case with losers of this echelon, The Parking Lot Degenerate 9 times out of 10 possess a rabid case of “crazy eye syndrome” unleashed by years of experimental drug use turned meth addiction. It is debatable whether The Parking Lot Degenerate spends more time in the lineup heckling and threatening other surfers versus swilling beers in the back of a pickup truck with his other parking lot degenerate loser friends. Similar to The Surly “Stink Eyed” Old Man Longboarder, The Parking Lot Degenerate is a big fan of holding onto the past and not accepting the reality of the present. They will often rehash past brawls and talk about fallen comrades of the Localism Elite who are now in jail or AA with a nostalgic sparkle in their crazy eyes as a tribute to what their life has become as the token Parking Lot Degenerate.

Hot off the shaping room floor of a surfer’s mind, we give you SSL’s inaugural 1st edition mini-poster!! 

Print it out, toss it on your fridge, accidently spill beer on it, impress your “too cool for school” bros, maybe post it in your cubicle when you’re not too busy ditching work for waves – the possibilities are endless!! 

Thanks again to all who follow the blog! Looking forward to rolling out many more posts in the near future in an endless quest to itemize, analyze, and poke fun at all the “STUFF” we surfers like.

 ~~~~~~~SSL Crew

SSL 1st Edition Mini-Poster

Surfers these days are pretty savvy when it comes to ensuring their overall sun protection. You might even say that they have become a bit of lotion elitists on par with the discerning smugness of a wine connoisseur. Just as every seasoned surfer seems to have a strong opinion of their favorite shaper, clothing brand, surf wax, or surf video; so now, they too have their favorite brand of sunblock. Armed with a growing list of high end, boutiquey sunblock brands that make Coppertone’s baby want to cry and soil her drawers in shame, surfers now have a legitimate selection of core surf industry produced sunblocks to choose from like Headhunter, Bullfrog, Shiseido, Watermans, & Vertra. With so many options popping up in surf shops and online, it is not uncommon to hear surfers debating and constrapulating the effectiveness of the active ingredients in each product as if they themselves were qualified chemists tossing around words like “oxybenzone” this and 5-parts “titanium dioxide” that. It’s all a bit too much nonsense to bear really. On the other hand, if we could somehow parlay some of this knowledge of sunblock to our visiting tourists, then perhaps we could manage to avoid the unsightly “2 for 1” Red Lobster Special, coming to a beach near you next summer!!

When it comes to sunblock, the only requirement to make it work is to apply it and allow it time to soak in. Seems simple enough in theory, but alas, even the most mundane tasks are often botched like a saggy boob job. Seeking to hit the surf like a thoroughbred racehorse out of the gates in 2 seconds flat, surfers tend to get preoccupied with other more pressing issues like mindsurfing the incoming set waves as they frantically fumble to change in public. More often than not, surfers forget to apply sunblock altogether or pull a half-assed “Messy Marvin” slathering sunblock on their face and body with no rhyme or reason let alone giving it time to soak in. This leads to an oil slick of sunblock upon their first duckdive and relieves their skin of necessary protection like an early season rain cleanses the streets. Sometimes the more audacious surfers will take alternative approaches such as swabbing gobs of zinc oxide sunblock under their eyes much like a NFL wide receiver would or in eccentric patterns all over their face like a Zulu tribesman on the hunt. If a surfer is really scared of the sun (i.e. – pasty white) or just happens to be on week 2 of an Indo Boat Trip, one might find them sporting the “Casper the Ghost” look whereby their face is fully caked in zinc oxide, oft resembling a mixture of Bram Stoker’s Dracula meets Binky the Clown’s- “Intro, to Face Painting 101”. These various variations are laughable for sure, but in the end it’s up to every individual surfer to fend for their skin. What method may work for one skin type may not work for the next. Lube it, lather it, “borrow it” if you have to. Your skin will thank you in 30 years!

The film (for those who haven’t seen it, do you even exist?) follows the epic journey of Rick Kane, a young naive surfer from Arizona and WaveTank shreddah extraordinaire, who wins a surf competition in the local wavepool (yes…that’s right – wavepool!) and pronounces to all, “I’m going to Hawaii to surf the big waves of the North Shore!”  Upon arriving in Oahu, things don’t go according to plan for young Rick.  A series of highly unrealistic events (let’s be honest, the entire movie) ensue bordering on the absurd.  Cue Rick getting kicked out of a bar and cruising with the infamous Occy, arrives at his surf idol Lance Burkhart’s beach house (played by no other than big wave hellman Laird Hamilton), ruins local Da Hui leader Vince’s wave (played by a young Gerry Lopez) and gets his stuff stolen, bumps into the infamous Turtle (purveyor of some of the movie’s best one-liners), who introduces him to Chandler (surf guru, mentor to be, & soul surfer messiah).  Segway to Rick scoring an oceanfront pad and the tutelage of the great Chandler all for the sweat equity of a newly designed surf logo and some shaper room sweeping (must be nice!).  Realizing that Rick can’t surf because he’s a quote unquote “Barney to the Max” according to Turtle, Chandler enlists Rick in his patented 12-Step Surfboard Program, whereby Rick must master the nuances of each board before moving onto the next.  Cheesy montages of Rick sharing party waves with Chandler ensue and he also gets noticed by a smarmy pro-ho surf photographer all to the tune of a cheesy 80’s soundtrack.  Amazingly enough, Rick goes from kook-a-mania to Pipeline Master’s shreddah all in the course of a few poorly edited surf action frames.  To boot, Rick scores the taboo island hottie Kiani after “he shred so hard, he broke his stick”.  She comes sauntering up to him on horseback after a bad wipeout and proceeds to rub his haole back with aloe.  “Scrub it kook! Reef Rash – scarred for life bra!”  Really, does it get any better than this?

Since its release in 1987, the buzz surrounding the movie North Shore has only grown stronger.  It has etched itself into the minds and vocabulary of surfers far and wide like an epidemic of “hang loose” proportions.   Compiling and reciting movie lines at will from the movie became an overnight phenomenon, a veritable cottage industry of who could fully incorporate the movie’s lingo into their daily conversations. It gave a surfer insta-bro status amongst his/her surfing peers and pre-qualified them as someone who was “in the know bro”.  Surfers were infatuated with watching the movie over and over again, taking special note to memorize (rewind if necessary) and later recite key lines from the movie to whoever might listen.  Similar to the notoriety of surf stoner legend Jeff Spicoli, the movie North Shore provided timeless, enduring material for the one-liner regurgitating surf connoisseur.  To commemorate the movie “North Shore” and its infamous one-liners, here is an abridged list of some of our favorites:

Chandler – “Go Ahead, Shred!”

Turtle – “Shakakaddafaddabraddah!”

Vince – “Why don’t you go back to da mainland haole?!”

Da Hui Member – ” He so haole, he don’t even know he’s haole”

Local Hawaiian Grom – “Scrub it kook!”

Alex (Occy’s mate) – “Where’d ya learn to surf, in a bathtub?”

Turtle – “So when the wave breaks here, don’t be there . . . or you’re gonna get drilled!!”

Alex (Occy’s mate) – “That’s not a wave, that’s a ripple!!”

Lance - “You’ve got a single fin mentality Chandler”

Turtle – “More like design me out of the picture, haole. Here on the North Shore we treat friends mo betta.”

Champagne Room Girl – “Buy me drink surfer boy!?”

Pipe Master’s Commentator – ” Next up we have Rick Kane from Arizona…..ARIZONA!!???”

So if you haven’t seen the movie North Shore yet or are just in need of a refresher course on classic surf movie lines to lace into your conversation at the next BBQ, try look, check it out!!  In the meantime, “stop being a Barney, Barney….you know Barno, Barnyard, Haole to the max!  A kook, in and out of the water, yeah!?!”

Back in the bitchin’ 80’s and ragin’ 90’s, every red blooded surfer with a pair of eyes and a set of Y chromosomes came to know the now infamous Reef Girls.  Unlike most short lived fads, the Reef Girl’s bubble butt brand equity had some serious staying power! Word spread of these bum blessed beauties like a black market coconut express on steroids.  Surfers could not help but stare in unabashed wonderment at the glossy, full page images of thong clad vivaciousness unveiling before their eyes.  Images of sexy long legs meeting oblique, curvy backsides infused themselves in surfers’ memory banks like the Everlasting Gobstopper of eye candy.  So prolific did the popularity of the ads become, that nary could you enter a prepubescent young surfers’ bedroom without seeing the tell-tale signs of these booty backed babes plastered all over their walls.  Intermixed with posters of their favorite surfers and wanderlust wavescapes, the Reef Girls were a constant source of daydreaming fodder, prompting many a grom to hypothesize that if only they learned to rip hard enough, that one day, they too could win over one of these bikini clad babes.  The bar was indeed set high!

Like most things of a controversial nature, it’s amazing that the Reef Ads ever made it into print.  After all, in the beginning, many of the mainstay surfing publications didn’t want any part of something so risqué.  Luckily for us surfers, the ads eventually got the green light and ran unobscured in all their bootyful glory. That is not to say that a little dust didn’t get stirred up in the process.  Every month like clockwork, a new batch of irate letters would pour into the mags from surfer moms afar threatening cancellations of their child’s subscription should they decide to run another ad.  It was as if overnight, the Moms of America had conspired to become the Prohibition Era Czars of the Anti-Booty Campaign. In response to these “ass”aults, the editors would typically fire back with some witty banter such as the following; “Dear Angry Mom- we’re sorry you feel the need to keep your son/daughter holed up in the basement with Sloth from the Goonies.  In the meantime, we’ll be at the beach hanging out with half naked people in swimsuits if you feel like joining us, thanks. P.S. – Don’t hate, appreciate!”  Score: Surfers- 1; Overbearing Moms- Nil. 

In celebration of Reef’s 25^th “Ass”iversary, they are holding a contest where you can win a spot as a guest Miss Reef Judge at their next bikini contest being held in Panama.  Sounds bootyrific!!  Click here to sign up for the contest and to vote on your “all-time” favorite Reef Girl.  In the off chance that you don’t win the contest (i.e. – don’t hold your breath) you will at least be granted that warm, fuzzy feeling (okkk, that’s creepy!) that comes from some much needed visual stimulation.  As they say at Reef- “Bottoms Up!”

To claim your own little piece of the bubble butt pie, check out the just released 2010 Miss Reef Calendar.  If your walls could talk, they’d thank you!

‘Getting Barreled’ could technically be defined as “the act of riding inside the hollow pitching lip of a wave”.  Speaking of it in excited, elevated tones and pitches, surfers unanimously regard it as the most coveted, sought after place on a wave to be.  Transfixed with wanderlust eyes, gregarious grins, and infectious levels of stoke; surfers hoot in celebratory euphoria as they emerge unscathed from the remains of the wave’s last heaving breath.  Paddling back out to the lineup, the surreal experience replays itself over and over again in the surfers mind like a recurring wet dream. The surfer feels a bit like they just had an “out of body” experience, internally speculating to themselves; “did that really just happen!!??” As the extra sensory perception and adrenaline rush of the experience fades away like the final waning pulses of a dying swell, the perma-grin planted on the surfers face only grows stronger.  With salt water still dripping out of sunburnt noses, surfers cannot help but blurt the rhetorical question to all their bros – “did you see that sick barrel I just got!!??” Describing in vivid detail each play-by-play take of their shackadelic experience (gesticulating hands and water swooshing sound effects included), the re-creation, for all its well intended imagery, often falls on deaf ears.  It’s not surprising really.  Surfers by nature have a mental quota of waves they feel they need to catch to satisfy their ravenous wave riding addictions.  Case in point, what surfer cares to be ear raped by their bro’s incessant blabbering about something that was “like… so 5 minutes ago” when the oceanic menu du jour is featuring a rare 2 for 1 special on the barrel buffet!  When conditions align and the opportunity to get shacked silly exists, it’s all about some good ol’ carpe diem; translation- “every man for himself, seize the day!”

Surfers are forever infatuated with the barrel.  It’s illusive, round, and inviting.  They gawk at it in giddy, prepubescent wonder like a young buck’s first visit to a topless Euro beach.  No doubt, if Sigmund Freud was a surfer, he would have linked some sexually repressed Oedipus complex to the surfer and their incessant obsession with the barrel.  Really, it’s no wonder that surfers react in such animated swagger; after all, getting barreled just isn’t an everyday event for most.  Unless a surfer is lucky enough to travel consistently or call their home break a heaving, barrel producing anomaly like Pipeline or Puerto, the odds of getting shacked decrease precipitously.  So great is the desire to get barreled, that surf minded entrepreneurs and engineers have crafted ever evolving wave pools and standing waves like Bruticus Maximus to pick up the slack when Mother Nature calls in sick. While definitely not a replacement for the real thing, these carefully and not so carefully crafted (ouch, there goes my skin again on the sandpapery bottom) wave machines do a pretty decent job of mimicking the insatiable rush that comes from being deep in the barrel. “Order of 3 barrels to go!!!!!”

“Getting Barreled” has held many illustrative connotations and references over the decades.  Many different dialects of surfer lingo lay claim to the timeless mystical art.  The most commonly heard references to “getting barreled” are; “getting tubed”, “getting shacked”, “getting pitted”, “getting slotted”, “getting stuffed”, “green room”, and “catching some shade” to name a few.  (Disclaimer: please note, caution is advised when using these terms. Mixing and/or overdosing of terminology can be harmful to one’s ego and reputation as a surfer. When it comes to discussing or reacting to getting barreled, humbleness is the key- Endnote.)  Commonly referred to as “claiming it”, any semblance of chest thumping, fist pumping machismo upon exiting the barrel is generally looked down upon by the surfing clan. Surfers are notoriously overcritical of those whom claim mountains out of molehills (unless of course it is themselves they are talking about, “did you see me? Buy my poster!”).  This is generally due to years and years of rising barrel claiming abuse instigated by an influx of novice surfers (a.k.a- kooks, barneys, buoys, etc..) trying to pass off wussy head dips, cover ups, and waist high closeout barrels as legitimate barrels.  As a result, an entire generation of skeptical surfers has emerged, and for good reason.  A good example of this can be seen in the movie “Point Break”, when after being subjected to some of the worst surfing re-creations ever made in modern film, Keanu Reeves strolls into the office and says in his best bro braddah accent; “I caught my first barrel this morning!”.  Sure ya did Keanu, and I just caught it firing at Malibu all to myself, rightttttttt………….

In an ever evolving world of media surf hype and progressive surf maneuvers, many surfers still consider getting barreled to be the heart and soul of surfing in its purest form.  It transcends all styles, fads, and genres (..yes, thankfully even tight black jeans).  The act of side slipping down the face of a wave and into a living, breathing liquid medium is something few in the general population will ever get to experience.  It is definitely one of those quintessential prerequisite “bucket list” items of the 10 things every surfer should experience before they die.  Riding deep within a pulse of energy that travelled hundreds if not thousands of miles only to rise up and curl over in perfect bowling symmetry is truly a miracle unto itself.  Now if only we could get some of these illusive barrels to show up when we need them; “does 2 o’clock this afternoon work for ya?, how bout’ Saturday?…P.S.- don’t be a flake! I’ll be waiting…..”

Surfers can be quite the temperamental bunch when they haven’t scored any surf for a while.  Perhaps it’s the fact that the human body is predominantly 70% water that gives surfers that fish out of water feeling. Or maybe it’s that nagging uncertainty that other more fortunate surfers are scoring epic waves in some far off part of the world while they sit idly by waiting for scraps.  Whatever the case may be, the cranky, erratic behavior exhibited by a surfer during a flat spell is a sight for sore eyes indeed.  Often found congregating in parking lots and seaside vistas up and down the coast, surfers scan the horizon like a pack of hungry wolves ready to attack the slightest mushy morsel.  As conditions of lake-like proportions drag on, it is not uncommon to see surfers stare out into the flat abyss with a cult like fanaticism beaming in their eyes.  It’s almost as if they watched the movie “The Secret” one too many times and are now convinced they can manifest a wave or two to roll in in order to harness their mindsurfing destiny.  Lo and behold, right about the same time when insanity starts to creep in, a surfer within earshot will exit the water and proudly ramble; “Awww mannn, it was just nice to get in the water, ya know!” ……Can you say “One way ticket to Indo, please!”

Surfers spend a good amount of time in their surf roving mobiles checking the waves, chasing one swell to the next.  Driving along some of the most beautiful coastal corridors that nature has to offer, surfers often zone off in a quiet, hypnotic like trance to the sight of waves marching in.  Like man’s best friend eagerly wagging his tail and pressing his nose to the car window in slobbering elation, surfers are transfixed to the scintillating surf porn unveiling before their eyes.  Often tuned out to the idle chatter of their friends or spouse sitting shotgun and the red brake lights of cars quickly encroaching ahead, surfers’s minds are like malleable putty molded by the whims of the sea.  The surf imagery consumes the mind and body, taking precedence over all else.

Checking the waves in person these days is sooooo last season, haven’t you heard!!?  With just a click of the mouse, anyone with a pulse has an instant roadmap to all the best spots, tides, and optimal times to hit them up. Live streaming webcams of once coveted breaks blanket the web for all to see.  For better or worse, the advent of technology and its conveyor belt of surf reports is here to stay.  The niche websites that cater to surf reporting provide an invaluable service to the masses that exclusively rely on them for up-to-date surf conditions. In fact, surfers now have the luxury of planning their entire week around projected swells produced by storms that may not have even formed yet.  Outfitted with detailed long range forecasts that predict the arrival of swell down to the hour and handheld crackberry p.d.a’s that deliver reports with a few simple scrolls, surfers today have become quite the complacent lot. Unable or unwilling to check the waves the old fashioned way, many sessions go by largely unridden by the majority, left only to those surfers in the know.  The window of opportunity to score quality, uncrowded surf is vast for those surfers willing to open their eyes and put forth the time and effort to travel off the beaten path.  And as for those live streaming webcams- they’re not all bad really.  Seeing your favorite pro get spit out of a gaping barrel at Teuhupoo half a world away while chillin’ in your easy chair is pretty freaking cool!

Surfers bear witness to some pretty harsh conditions bobbing around in the oceanic abyss. Despite advances in wetsuit technology, it doesn’t hurt to pull out the urea reserves on a cold winter’s dawn patrol to warm the ol’ boys and girls. In fact, instead of adhering to the mantra of “hitting the ground running”, surfers often subscribe to “hitting the water peeing” as their golden compass. It starts the surf sesh off right and tends to smooth out the kinks like a therapeutic hot tub in your crotch. Some surfers (names excluded, you know who you are!) bear no shame and will urinate high and dry before they even reach the water’s edge. This may be viewed by some as disgusting and grotesque but it just goes to show that there really is no rhyme or reason to the ‘peeing in your wetsuit’ manifesto. The entire process is quite laissez faire; translation – anything goes!

Surfers are not typically a finicky bunch, but when faced with the prospect of borrowing or buying another surfers’ used wetsuit the inherent knowledge of what goes on down yonder in the nether regions of ones’ wetsuit becomes a bit too much burden to bear. In fact, for most surfers the act of using another surfers’ wetsuit is outright taboo, off limits. As a result, this whack market trade of borrowing and buying used wetsuits is generally relegated to those who haven’t a clue about whose messy stew they’re now conjoined at the hip with. “Better wash that thing first, eh bra?”

Surfers are faced with numerous split-second decisions to make during any given surf sesh: (i.e. do I air drop this wave and risk eating it?; should I stall for the barrel or race the section for an air?; do I pee now or pee later?). The choices abound for the ever calculating, multi-tasking, bladder toting surfer. Alas, the only real drawback to peeing in a wetsuit besides its “Eu De Pepe Le Pew” like après surf sesh fragrance lies in deciding when to pee. As if Poseidon himself were vexing surfers for peeing on his fishies, surfers are routinely caught blindsided by a set wave that rears its frothy, pee interrupting head right smack dab in the middle of doing ones business. Nothing is more Zen destroying and bladderly abrasive than stopping the flow midstream as any surfer can attest to. Because of this anomaly, it is not uncommon to see surfers seemingly pass up perfect waves as they scurry to head off their internal flood gates. When called out on missing the wave of the day they’ll unanimously chant; “hey man, I was peeing!”

Surfers will continue to pee circles around each other in lineups the world over and wonder in vain if that warm pocket of water they’re sitting in is really warm water or just another pool of someone else’s piss. Much to the relief of surfers, there is actually very little to worry about. Pee is one of the most sterile liquids out there comprised of roughly 95% water and assorted salts and proteins. So when considering peeing in a wetsuit, surfers must realize that pee is not your enemy, it is your friend. Just make sure to wash the soiled thing from time to time! Without basic care, a wetsuit can quickly become a roving porta potty- a real purveyor of stank if not rinsed regularly with water and soap. Moral of the story, don’t ever let it get to that point – scrub it kook! Peeing in wetsuits is meant to be an enjoyable, convenient experience for every surfer in need of a good tinkle or two. Next time nature calls in the lineup, feel free to take a load off – let it flow, embrace your inner pee!

* Warning * – “Booty Juice”; a common by-product of peeing in one’s wetsuit comprised of urine and toe-jam found in a surfers’ booty should not be taken lightly! “Booty Juice” is not to be ingested nor taste tested and should only be used against others when insulted by exceptionally demeaning “Yo Mama” jokes or in ritualistic Grom hazing scenarios.

Surfers tend to get new boards for a variety of reasons.  Perhaps like Rick Kane, “he broke his stick, he rip so bad” (see North Shore) and needs a replacement board a.s.a.p.  More likely a surfer just desires a new board to up their overall wave riding experience while others do it to round out their growing quiver of boards for all conditions. New boards offer up more resilient materials, present newer technologies, and provide better response underfoot to boot. It doesn’t hurt that new boards are cosmetically superior to their pressure dinged, teetering on destruction, Craigslist bound predecessors.  Like beaming white coffee stained teeth after a two week trial of Crest White Strips, new boards are the arm candy (that don’t cause cavities) for surfers lucky enough to flaunt these pearly white wave riding vehicles.

Surfboards cost a good deal of money and don’t grow on trees as surfer Mom and Dad’s the world over might attest to. Because of this, some surfers might wait months, even years to re-up on a new board while the luckiest few (pros) get them hand shaped and delivered halfway around the world for free.  Whatever the situation may be, getting a new board is a rite of passage for any surfer. It tends to reignite the spark in a surfers’ surfing like no other.  In fact, it’s not uncommon to see a myriad of atypical personality traits develop in a once seemingly drained and apathetic surfer when they get their hands on a new board.  For example, once unthinkable utterances might be heard from the late night boozer of the group such as; “yea guys, I think I’m gonna bail on the $2 you call it night, surf looks like it might be kinda fun for the dawn patrol”!  Reports of surfers seen sprinting to the surf when it’s only knee high dribble or obsessively waxing their new board in perfect concentric circles are nothing to be alarmed at, in fact it is the rule!

When it comes to buying a surfboard, surfers are notorious window shoppers.  The entire process of shopping for a new board is comparable to checking out girls.  Case in point, surfers tend to ogle, size up, and manhandle the vivacious curves, rails, and rocker of a potential new board with the fervor of a pent up, sexually frustrated teenager.  Boards that may look fun from afar tend to get played with then tossed back on the rack like the village bicycle if the dimensions are not to the surfer’s liking. Worse yet, if the board is overly expensive it may signal to the surfer that this board is off limits, out of their league, a bonified goldigger of a surfboard dressed in a sexy price tag negligee cruelly touting “here big boy, come and ride me…..that is if you can afford me!”.    

As with any investment, surfers often deliberate over paying too much or getting shafted on quality when buying a new board. Big name shaper vs. local shaper, PU vs. Epoxy; what is a surfer to do? This cloud of indecision weighs heavily on surfers at first but gradually melts away after copious amounts of surf infused daydreaming and research.  Like a slow drip IV delivering its medicine, surfers begin to imagine themselves getting the wave of the day at their local break or arcing an obscenely tight Slater style turn in the pocket on their new board. The seed is invariably planted in the surfers’ head and there’s no going back, it’s time to get a new board!

When the day finally comes for a surfer to get their new board, all doubts and worries are replaced with puppy eyed infatuation at their latest acquisition.  Some surfers become smitten on the spot with their new board and put it on a pedestal like a romantic conquest (surfers have been known to take the concept of board love to another level as evidenced by the fad of airbrushing hot chicks onto surfboards (See Board Love)). For a period of at least 2 months, nobody else will get to ride it and the only acceptable lines of communication are of admiration and envy from their bros.  The first date (or shall we say 1^st go out) with a new board is a highly anticipated moment for any surfer, yet rarely lives up to its hype.  Squandered by unrealistic expectations of surfing like Dane Reynolds because they now have the Al Merrick Proton board is a deserved let down. But what if the waves do not cooperate, who’s to blame? (The waves always go flat when a surfer gets a new board; a popular urban legend amongst surfers).  Whatever the situation may be, whether your next new board is break-up material or develops into full fledged relationship status, take heart, either way there’s always another new board around the corner!

When it comes to selecting the perfect day to ditch, all a surfer need do is take a crash course on the “5 W’s” from 4^th Grade English class – (the Who, What, When, Where and Whys). A tactfully planned and executed ditch day can mean the difference between you and your bros getting shacked silly all day versus bobbing like a buoy in the shallow end of the oceanic baby pool. An integral part of any surfers’ preconceived plan must factor in crowds, tides, wind, swell angle, and a myriad of other variables synoptic to a surfers’ local break. After all, there’s nothing worse than scheming for days on end about possible excuses to tell your boss only to get skunked come ditch day.

Surfers nowadays, for better or worse, are pretty dialed in when it comes to predicting swell events. Aided by the internet’s wide array of surf reports and forecasts, it doesn’t take the sharpest tool in the tool shed to score pumping surf. Over-hyped swells pitched by the various surf report media outlets can clog a line-up quicker than you can say, “Surf trip, please!” All bets are off for a ditch day solo session if a surfer happens to reside in a metropolitan area with 5 universities and an overabundance of trustafarians making the rounds. Plan accordingly!

A typical day of ditching work for waves consists of rising at the butt arse crack of dawn for the dawn patrol sesh. Sleeping in is not part of the ditch day regimen and should only be reserved for weekends when waiting out the swarms of ‘weekend warrior’ surfers or the early morning high tide is the preferred option. For the majority of 9-5 working surfers a well executed “I’m sick” call between the hours of 8:00 to 8:30 in the morning to the company receptionist or voicemail should do the trick. Feigning illness or dishing out some other believable excuse is a crucial step in promoting a successful ditch day experience. After the minor inconvenience of side stepping work is out of the way, surfers are free to revel in several more hours of surfing bliss followed by a bountiful breakfast burrito and a refreshing machaca beverage at their favorite taco shop. Follow this up with several more hours of noodle armed surfing and a couple of beers with the bros at sunset and you’d think you were on vacation, if only for a day.

Some may claim that ditching work for waves is reckless and irresponsible. After all, until the recent explosion of surfing’s popularity, surfers were often pegged as counterculture slackers and deadbeats by the rest of the homogenized, non-surfing world. But what these naysayers fail to recognize are the highly therapeutic, soul nourishing doses of sanity that surfing provides to so many of us. A couple power gouges, a few cutties, and maybe even an in n’ out barrel section if you’re lucky and the world just seems right again. As the 1980’s Billabong tagline so aptly put it, “Only a surfer knows the feeling”! Next time a solid swell pulses its way onto your ubiquitous surf radar, do yourself a favor – be a surfer, paddle out, get some!

Happy Hour tastes better after surfing all day!