Surf Nation

Too Big For Her Top

Those of you with a tender disposition, look away. Here are the Surf Punks with the kind of song that just isn't heard, made or recorded any more.

Hang on, it's the Ed. He says: But do you think that kind of song is still imagined? Or thought? If it is, should it be?

I tell him it's just some footage from an obscure Malibu band from 1976, the year that QPR nearly won the League. It has socio-cultural value and shouldn't be ignored.

You're right, says the Ed. And then he exclaims:

OK, I admit it! I used to love the Surf Punks! Where has all the fun gone? Look at the fun they're having, like real surfers! We're all so PC now that there's no fun anymore! Not even in surfing! I want fun, and I want it now!

He's the Ed, so I give him what he wants. As I was saying, here are the Surf Punks - with the kind of song that perhaps should never have been recorded...

Dolphins - no respect for the drop in rule

I've admired Richard Attenborough for many years. He's intelligent and humane; resourceful and curious; urbane and well-spoken. Here he is talking about J-Bay, surfing and dolphins. It's great stuff, but I'm reminded of something Fuz Bleakley said to me a while ago: "When you do surf with a dolphin, it's not that relaxing. They're big animals, and you don't know what they're going to do next."

Check out this footage and ask yourself - would it be worth shouting at a dolphin if he or she dropped in on you? And if it's not, maybe next time an alien in the water - like a kook, or a beginner, or maybe a longboarder, perhaps even a shortboarder or - God forbid - an intermediate or pro surfer - drops in on you, chill and let it go.

How Powerade Helps You Surf (Very) Big Waves

Some Books

Many thanks to all who posted in response to my request for comments. At this rate I may yet escape my fate of incarceration within the walls of Wapping, so please keep up the good work.

Meanwhile, I am nearing the end of War and Peace. So far I have not spotted a single surfing allusion, which is a grave disappointment. How can Tolstoy be seen as the world's greatest novelist, if he fails to mention surfing?

My devotion to the Russian icon's monumental tome has led to a mass of books on my bedside, at least five of which look very interesting. Here they are, in the order that I'll tackle them.

1. The Interloper by Antoine Wilson. Antoine is based in California and has been known to comment on this site. Doing so is not the reason for my mentioning his book here. He has a fine, punchy writing style and I'm looking forward to getting into The Interloper. Given that Antoine's a surfer, his book might even contain the occasional surfing reference.

2. Return by Water by Kimball Taylor. This collection of surf stories came through the post some time ago. Chris Mauro, editor of Surfer, and Evan Slater, editor in chief of Surfing, are fans. Definitely full of surfing.

3. Sea of Movement by Jeff Kozlowski. Again, this arrived a while back. Gorgeous cover and a good blog, too. 100% full of surfing.

4. Liquidation by Imre Kertesz. OK, I admit it. I've been reading this when infuriated by Tolstoy's refusal to write about surfing. It's brilliant, but lacks any hint of surfing.

5. Night Letters by Rose Hilton. I recently interviewed Rose for the FT, with pictures shot by Mike Newman. She's a superb artist whose first solo retrospective is currently on show at the Tate St Ives (and, for those reading this who are based in my neck of the woods, her drawings can be seen at HiltonYoung in Penzance). I found a copy of her book of letters from her late husband, the brilliant Roger Hilton, in a bookshop in London (near Wapping...). Looks quite extraordinary. No surfing, though Rose's son Bo paddled out at Sennen with me the other day.

That's enough about books. The surf at Sennen was nice this morning and I returned home to write a piece about Al Mennie, Duncan Scott, Gabe Davies and Richie Fitzgerald for The Sunday Times. Check it out this coming weekend, in the In Gear section.

Batman: The Surfer

There are any number of magnificent facets to this 1967 episode of Batman, in which the caped crusader does battle with The Joker in surf that mutates uncannily from 2ft to 30ft (and back again) in less time than it takes to say "Boy Wonder: My Life in Tights was not a mistake."

They just don't make 'em like this anymore. (There is a very good reason for that. Ed.)

Calling All Readers: This Blog Needs You

Last week, after toiling for hours through perilous underground labyrinths and navigating endless corridors, I found myself at a desk in Wapping. Opposite me was the Times' blog-meister. He informed me that traffic for this humble blog was impressive and that the large number of sites linking to it was further indication of its place in a vibrant online community. This was all good, and I was happy. But then the blog-meister peered through the gloom (we were in Wapping, after all) and said "There's just one thing. The comments."

Oh no! What has someone gone and said?! was my immediate thought. But that wasn't the issue.

"There need to be more comments on the site," said the blog-meister. "Traffic, links and comments are the three criteria by which we evaluate the success - or otherwise - of a blog." The blog-meister tasked me with ensuring that you, my dear readers, interact a little more with this site.

I pondered how to go about ensuring that comments appear more often for some time, but, after being hit in the head at St Just Amateur Boxing Club last night, had a brainwave. Why don't I put up a post saying 'Please comment on this site'?

So that's what I've done. All comments, especially on this request for comments, are welcome. Otherwise, as the blog-meister said: "We will keep you here in Wapping forever." Please don't let them do that to me...

Not another surf mag? Yes!

Pete Robinson, of The Surfing Museum, drops me the following line:

And so, almost 40 years after he created the ill-fated British Surfer (which lasted just six issues), 1960s surf star Rod Sumpter is launching a new surfing magazine - The Surfers World.

"Inspiration for everyone - beginners and experts" it says on the mock-up of the first cover.  But do we really need another surfing mag in the UK, or anywhere else in the developed world for that matter? Aren't all the niches already covered with publications from The Surfer's Path to Pit Pilot?

The cover, replete with full page photo of Mr Sumpter, looks very dated to me, the captions not terribly well written and there are typos in the advertising rate card. Australian Sumpter settled in Cornwall in the 1960s and in recent years has punted out a few books and DVDs, 'recreated' the famous Britannia longboard first made by Bilbo. So will The Surfers World (where's the apostrophe?) last longer than British Surfer? Only you, the surfing public, will decide.

The Evil Welshman

I recently received a very nice email from a very nice chap who wrote as follows:

"We have recently performed a complimentary check of your website. Our results and data are as follows. Based upon this check, we note that your website - www.tomandersonbooks.com - has 32 links." The email went on to explain how Tom's website was faring and gently suggested that if I were to subscribe to the nice chap's service, even more links, interaction and, yes, book sales would come my (i.e, Tom's) way.

I wrote back as follows:

"Dear Mr X,

Thank you for your email. Your service might be of interest but I am slightly mystified.

You refer to my website and promise to reveal the data gleaned via your complimentary assessment of its health (or otherwise), but rather than doing this you in fact reveal the figures for Tom Anderson's website.

For your information, Tom Anderson is an evil Welshman with a dark secret - he was born in Watford and knows someone called 'The Gill.'

You have been warned."

Strangely enough, shortly after sending this - CCd to Tom - one of The Gill's trademark missives arrived. It looked dangerous, so I decided to contemplate next steps. And as I sit here, pondering my next move, I see that Tom Anderson has criticized my 'excellent facial grimace' skate shot.

Don't be deceived by his boyish good looks and knowledge of space-docking (what's that? Ed.). He is, truly, an evil Welshman.

Reef - not sexist, honest

Beach Bum recently posted an intriguing piece of footage from the enlightened folk at Reef.

Watch it and marvel at the way in which Reef's ultra-PC marketing gurus continue to nurture the company's "cool and casual attitude of the beach with a commitment to nurturing the lifestyle that follows."

Swoon as you encounter "the elite class of Reef ambassadors that scour the globe in search of the best waves, surrounded by some of the most beautiful and remote places on the planet" (er, where is the surfing in this footage? Ed.).

Declare yourself in love with the "fantasy that only a small portion of the world ever gets to experience."

And thank the Lord for Reef, the company "all about finding that place, and savoring the feeling no matter where you may be."

Or: wonder whether the title of Vladimir Nabokov's Despair doesn't best sum up your feelings at such extraordinary sexploitation in surfing.

 

You can take the skater out of the suit...

But you can't take the suit out of the skater. Or maybe it's the other way round?

Anyway, what a top afternoon I had today, skating on Sennen Cove esplanade with Russ Pierre taking some shots for both Huck and The Sunday Times' 'In Gear' section. Huck are running a piece on old-school skaters who never stopped in the next issue, and The Sunday Times is planning something on the phenomenon that is Middle Age Shred. Both pieces required me to carve around on my beloved Original Path 37, so that's what I did. Sometimes work is fun - even though, as this shot from Russ shows, I opted to leave the Twat Cap at home.