The Perfect Storms

Who was it that said, "I love it when a plan comes together"? Hamlet?
FDR?
B.A. Baracus?
No matter, the enduring aspect of a quote isn't the first person to speak it, but the latest person to speak it. Up here, it's got to be Northcoast shredster Shawn, who just got this:
And along comes this:
And this!
Up here NotB, we have a name for this trifecta of stoke: The No Fu@#ing Way, or the NFW.
In Shawn's case, it would be uttered slowly, almost breathlessly, with emphasis on the final syllable.
Other instances the NFW could be employed are when the wife/girlfriend tests positive for impending daddydom--correct pronunciation in this instance would be long pauses between each word accompanied by a wide-eyed stare into the distance.
Or, a macking set on the horizon with you in exactly the wrong spot. In this specific case, there is no preferred pronunciation--elocution will be specific to the size of approaching set, quality of the utterer's wetsuit, and one's personal prediliction for being held down in the dark, dark, cold, deep for extended moments.
Hope you score some.

Five Fingers of Fun

It's a real pleasure working with guys like E from Up North. Open-minded, willing to put up with my more, um, obsessive board-building tendencies, and stoked out of his mind.
He's also got a bitchin' Northcoast blog here that highlights stoke, fog, and his impressive photography skills.

This Campbell Brothers inspired egg measures in at 6 1/2ish and features hand-foiled bamboo blades by 101 Fin Company's Marlin Bacon--just the right combination of snap and soul.

Glassing (including fins, opaque bottom wrap and pinline) by Leslie Anderson, who once got drunk and told me she had a crush on Mitt Romney.

This board is designed as an all 'rounder, but I predict that on the morning the first long-period NW of the season starts to show on the buoys, this little egg is going to creep into bed with E and begin to whisper...

Brometheus Unbound

The myth of Prometheus features a crafty Prometheus fashioning humankind out of clay, then stealing fire from the gods to animate his work.
The Gods were, understandably, unstoked.
The subtitle of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is 'The Modern Prometheus.' Frankenstein refers to the name of the doctor who steals fire (electricity) to animate his own creation--a manlike figure cobbled together from the parts of dead folks.
The creature has no name, and is abandoned by its creator, a freaked-out Dr. Frankenstein, upon its 'birth.'
The nameless monster starts off its life as a knowledge-seeking innocent, only to be taught evil, mistrust, and general bad behavior by some countrified English d-bags.

The Frankenfish, which has been enjoying a nice run up here on the Northcoast, is a Frankensteinian mashup of several different design elements.

However, unlike Dr. Frankenstein's creation, the board's lines are blended without all those pesky suture marks around the neck area.
Second, all who see it do not shriek in fear and cover the eyes of nearby children.
Finally, instead of being tormented by a damned dirty population of pastoral English peasants, Frankenfishes have been nurtured, coaxed, allowed to fully cure as suggested by Fatty, and shown goodness by their owners (who have heroically resisted the urge to open Red Tail Ales with their fins) in the form of waves, waves, waves.

This sub-eight-foot Frankenfish is for local hellman GayVader, who is neither gay, nor Vader--not that there is anything wrong with being either. It features a sky blue bottom tint and a 'one-drop' blue deck tint.
Five finboxes for maximum Franken-ness, double concaves for turbo boostage, and a blue resin pinline to tie it all together.

PS: If this blog entry looks at all weird to you, it's because I am writing from the East Coast, and things here are different. Examples:
1. The air is wet, giving me an unwelcome Jewfro and making it difficult to go more than two hours without a shower.
2. People use 'wicked' as an adverb, as in, 'it's wicked hot today, but it was wicked hotter yesterday.'
3, 4, 5. There are insects at the beach, people sport clothes and cars with names of colleges on them, and Dunkin' Donuts (sic) offers 'muffins,' which are really just donuts in muffin form.
6. Bring on the warm-water peelers!

Speaking of Roundtails...

This eight-oh's for local she-shredder K. Pic taken at the Fattyshack.
Not that many glass shops out there have organic gardens, a trampoline, hottub, and homemade greenhouse...
Eight feet long, cream deck with a green bottom and red pinline. Classy.

It's been said that the bottom resin design, done by Fatty herself, resembles an ancient fertility symbol, so be gentle if you knock the owner off of to give it a whirl yourself. And go easy on the Tecates after riding--you could be drinking for two!

Gun, Germs, and Steel (without the germs and steel)

Gun. The name says it all: sleek, beautiful, dangerous. Guns have shaped both American and Surf histories, and to plant your feet onto one is to play footsie with ghosts and legends.
Or maybe to plant your feet on one is to scare the shit out of yourself, loved-ones, and healthcare providers.
The Lotsa gun features a host of lotsas: lotsa rocker, lotsa curves, and lotsa balls required to ride it. In fact, I recommend riders sport at least a third ball to ride these, possibly a fourth as a 'replacement set' (for female riders, 'chutzpa' is an acceptable substitution for balls, as is the bit outdated 'moxie,' the international-flavored 'verve,' or the clinical/metaphorical 'nards'). Potential customers need a notarized note from their physician attesting to the presence of additional testes or female equivalent.

This 8'4" is designed for outer bar Ocean Beach. I have nightmares about inner bar OB, so I can't even imagine the mental fortitude required to even wax this thing, which the rider has already done. I added the wooden tailblock for spiritual sustenance, as it was blessed by a rabbi (actually, another Jewish guy on my block, but still).
The simplicity of the clear glass job with double pinlines and darts reminds of of what's really going on here: man or woman. Ocean. Extra balls or equivalent.
Simple.
Hard to imagine needing it this week with all the summery-ness going on here--south swells and blue skies!

Two Boards, Nine Fins

Is it possible to get skunked when the Bodega Bay Buoy reads 11.5 feet at 17 seconds and there's no wind to speak of?
It is when you live in Sonoma County!
Soupy, warbly, chest high close-out slop at a local beachbreak. Had to make a tough call between the EPS quad fish and the Campbell Brothers Bonzer inspired High Five (named for its ability to hold a high line and its plentitude of fins). Ended up with the five finner. Why? Well, at times I think my love for the quad fish is too great--an exclusive relationship bordering on the psychotic. It's good to get some distance every once in a while.
Turned out the High Five was the right call--fast and fun in some god-awful surf.

Powder blue full board tint with some fine double pinlines. Looks like prom, circa 1978.

Much like prom, I didn't score, came home early, and screwed around on the computer for a while.

Fish 'n Egg

An egg and a fish to get the ball rolling. The egg is a 6'0 quad with a coffee-'n-cream full board tint, and the 5'10" keel fin is a crazy Fatty concoction of foam stains, swirls, and pinlines. Both feature Lokbox finboxes. Bitchin.
The little round pin handles waves in the overhead range surprisingly well--not a mushbuster*
*Board is also an excellent mushbuster.