Climate Denial is a Hoax

There is a great deal of fake news floating around and I was shocked to see a blatant fairy tale promulgated by a supposedly credible source in the Wall Street Journal regarding climate change. That source is one Holman W. Jenkins, a frequent conservative columnist for the WSJ. His column on Dec. 10 contains fictitious scientific information and is a perfect example of why we need to check sources and facts, especially pertaining to controversial subjects such as climate change.

In his recent opinion piece, Mr. Jenkins supports his case for denying climate change by summarizing the 2013 report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC). He conveniently twists the panel's findings to match his magical vision, claiming that the IPCC reversed its 2007 central forecast and, according to Mr. Jenkins, the panel's latest finding is that our climate is not warming any longer. He takes the familiar climate-denier position that the science is incomplete.

The real burn here is that he uses a bonafide credible source for his argument, but lies about the facts from that source.

I read Mr. Jenkins' column seeking information, thinking that perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps I had fallen for climate change without considering all the facts. Maybe climate change is a hoax, as so many conservatives claim, including our President-elect and a few of his cabinet choices who will be advising and helping to carry out the new president's orders.

So I went to the source of Mr. Jenkins' information, the IPCC, to find out. I learned that the IPCC is the foremost body for assessing climate change and supplying governments around the world with real data regarding temperature change based on studies of hundreds of international scientists.

I found summaries of the IPCC report that Mr. Jenkins referred to. I also found more recently
published (2014) summaries.

Following are five of those IPCC summaries:

"Warming of the climate system is unequivocal, and since the 1950s, many of the changes are unprecedented over decades to millennia. The atmosphere and the ocean have warmed, the amount of snow and ice have disminished, sea level has risen, and the concentration of greenhouse gases have increased."

"Drivers of Climate Chamge: Total radiative forcing is positive and has led to an uptake of energy by the climate system. The largest contribution to total radiative forcing is caused by the increase in the atmosphere concentration of CO2 since 1750."

"Human influence on the climate system is clear. This is evident from the increasing greenhouse gas concentrations in the atmosphere, positive radiative forcing, observed warming and understanding of the climate system."

"Continued emissions of greenhouse gases will cause further warming and changes in all components of the climate system. Limiting climate change will require substantial and sustained reductions in greenhouse gas emissions."

Essentially, Mr. Jenkins has lied to his readers, most of whom are likely also climate deniers. He is clearly not a credible pundit, or whatever he claims to be. I would think that the Wall Street Journal would be embarrassed to have him foisting such distortion of facts in their pages.

Duck and Cover

Juan takes off on an inside break while stalwart swimmers pass by in the frigid water. Fremont Peak cuts a horizon profile

A brisk 38-degree air temp this morning, a chilly offshore breeze and a bundle of clouds on the Eastern horizon all added up to a sweet morning session despite a fast rising tide of nearly 5-feet. Nice glow in the sky and shimmer on the water had the photogs out with their cell phones. Water temp in the mid-fifties. That will wake you up!

Waves Rise, Red Tide Fades

Mitchell's doin it's thing. Yes, there's a rider on the middle wave.                                                    Photo:KCS

The red tide that has been hanging around Santa Cruz waters for the past month seems to have dissipated, at least to a variable level, with the onslaught of a sizeable gulf swell that has really churned things up. At last peek this morning, one of three forecast swells from the north was peaking with set waves ranging from 5-9 feet at the major westside breaks.

Sabre Jets taking it.                   Photo:KCS

The red tide is the result of an algal bloom, according to Gary Griggs, director of the Institute of Marine Sciences and Long Marine Laboratory at UC Santa Cruz. Griggs talked about red tides in his Sunday column in the Santa Cruz Sentinel (www.santacruzsentinel.com Oct. 30).

Although it's not considered toxic, the dark, brownish-colored water and greenish foam looks weird and tastes bad when you lick your lips. "Just don't swallow," warned one local stalwart who was body whomping in it.

"A lot of guys are coming in talking about it," says Tim Pearson, manager of Arrow Surf Shop. It seems to cause respiratory issues for some. There are stories of allergic reactions to just being near the ocean spray.

The algal blooms "typically occur in California in the fall," writes Griggs, when environmental conditions are just right. This means when certain nutrients or fertilizer run-offs mix with warmer than normal water temperatures. The question he asks, are red tides becoming more common with the warming of the ocean. The jury is out since the studies are so new.

Some surfers stay out of the water, as much as they can help themselves, while others are not deterred in the least. When you think about it, there is a lot of crap floating around in that big ocean and close to shore. But when the water turns red and the foam green it can make you squirm. If you go out, remember to spit a lot and shower well soon after. And above all, "Don't swallow."

Morning Glass & The Duke

Beautiful sunrise this morning accented with a mild off-shore breeze and late remnants of a major northwest swell combined for a much-needed session after about two weeks out of the water. The red tide has mostly dissipated and the nasty run-off from more than two-inches of rain over the weekend has cleaned up.

Sets were fairly consistent wrapping around the point through the Lane and reforming on left-over sand from last winter. Yeah, that inside section is still working and wide on the sets. Duck and cover. Ride the nose. Cut back then turn fast. Whoosh!

Water temp is still warmish and has not dropped into the frigid zone that marks most winters. But winter is still a couple of months away. Although the past two seasons the ocean has remained fairly warm, especially two winters ago when 60-plus-degrees defied the natural drop to icy waters.

Hollywood Does Duke

If you haven't seen the latest Surfers Journal it's worth a read. Interesting piece on the legend and father of surfing, Duke Kahanamoku, talks about the racism that kept him in menial low-paid jobs, including f his film work where he was cast in funky bit parts like Indian chiefs that supported the Hollywood racial profile. Through it all, Duke kept his aloha and never let on. The man maintained his dignity inside, while the hucksters used his prowess for their profit. Best quote in the piece, from the Duke hisself: "Fucking haoles."

The piece seems a little edgy for SJ. Good for them for running it.We could all use a little more truth and a lot less fluff in the mags.

The Dance Floor Was Full

Bingo out in the water bringing in the bumper while Lucy, Frida, Oscar and Parker wait.

Back in the Cruz after nearly three weeks inland traveling through the beautiful Southwestern, US, it was nice to be in the water again, for me and for Frida.

At the cove the dog pack was back at it, running, wrestling and chasing the orange bumper into the water. We saw a pod of large, dark-colored dolphins swimming in the glassy ocean, always a treat.

Yesterday, out on the sandbar there were still signs of a south swell sending sets of waves all the way to shore. Long periods of waiting for waves, left everyone hungry and when the biggest, widest wave of the day suddenly showed up, everyone wanted to ride. There must have been 10 of us on that shoulder-high beauty, all smiles. It reminded me of old pictures I've seen of Waikiki with the Hawaiian kanes and wahines all riding their boards together, sharing the stoke.

"That was a party wave," someone stated the obvious. "The dance floor was full," said another.

The Heart of Saturday Night

Always like having my ukulele nearby if only to entertain my dog, Frida. I've been showing up at the Capitola Esplanade on Sunday mornings for some cool kanakapila (beach jams) with a joyful group of ukers, singers and more. Check it out if you're in the neighborhood. Bring your instrument. Fun starts at 10.

There's a nice little break at the nearby jetty. Bring your board, too!

September Sunrise

62.5 degrees

Record high water temp, according to the brave swimmers who enter the ocean every morning at Cowells Beach for water recreation sans wetsuits.  I believe the record refers to water temperature in the morning this summer.

Couple of days with air temps near 80 degrees and the shallows warm up nicely. Definitely felt over-dressed in a 4.3mm suit.

Labor Day weekend coming up... likely to bring large numbers to the coast. Two hurricanes in the Pacific should bring some swell and liven the festivities.

Late August Morning Light

It's been a spectacular morning on the north side of Monterey Bay. The sun rose behind floating stratus clouds creating bright yellow-orange effects above the tail of Santa Cruz Mountains in the low Eastern sky. White clouds drawing a north-south line turned purplish-orange toward the Northwest.

Waves were small and inconsistent at Cowells with about 20 people in the water at dawn to catch whatever came through.

As the sun rose and the dawn patrol drifted off to work, a small pod of people on boards kept guard under an unusually azure sky that heralded a welcome change from the grey marine layer that has been hanging around all month.

The view from the water, which is always the best, painted a picture of blue hues with a thin, transparent veil of fog on the horizon where you could see the top of Fremont Peak and the ragged ridge of the San Lucia Mountain Range to the Southeast, a range immortalized by John Steinbeck, the area's most revered writer, in books including Cannery Row. As seen from the Santa Cruz side of the bay, those same mountains behind Big Sur loomed majestically above and through the smoky fog.

The passing white and few dark clouds above, speckled with cerulean-colored backdrop, created a chapel-like ceiling for the ceremony on the water below.

Mr. Pipeline Pays a Visit

Surf legend Gerry Lopez and yours truly

 Gerry Lopez, aka Mr. Pipeline, was in Santa Cruz Saturday as part of a grand opening for  West Marine's retail store on 17th Avenue. As relaxed as ever, Gerry chatted with me about several of his favorite topics including his life in Bend, Oregon, surfing and yoga.

Although at age 67 he still surfs, he says he spends more time practicing yoga than surfing. In fact he is currently writing a book about yoga. "I've got to get focussed and just finish it," he says of his latest writing venture for publisher, Patagonia Books.

This upcoming book will follow his first for Patagonia, "Surf Is Where You Find It," published in 2008 in which he writes about growing up on the islands of Kaua'i and Oahu, his life as a surfer, board shaper and stories about the many characters he met along the way. Gerry earned the moniker, Mr, Pipeline, for his mastery of the Pipeline break on the North Shore of Oahu in the early 1970s. He didn't just master the most famous barrel in surfing, he made it look easy with his nonchalant style.

Yoga has always been a major factor in his life. So it makes sense that he would be a natural spokesperson for the ancient healing art that many world-class athletes such as himself embrace. His father was a newspaperman in Hawaii and dad's writing chops have obviously rubbed off on Gerry.

When asked if he liked to fly fish, since the environs near Bend are a Mecca for that sport, Gerry said it wasn't his cup of tea. "I like to catch fish," he says with a smile. The pace and particulars of casting flies don't appeal to him. I found this intriguing for such a laid-back guy. But then he earned his reputation in a high-risk sport where mucho adrenaline was doubtless coursing through his laid-back veins. Snow boarding is his preferred outdoor activity in Bend.

He says he moved from Maui to Bend to raise a family 25 years ago. Looking back on it, he says, "I think I made the right move." I would add that you can take the man out of Hawaii but you can't take the "aloha" out of the man.

He is in Santa Cruz this weekend representing his sponsor, Maui Jim sun glasses. It just so happened that I was wearing a pair of Maui Jims when we met.

"They're good sun glasses," we agreed.

Breaking it Down

The subtitle of this blog is "search for stoke and the perfect wave." What this means to me is that stoke and the perfect wave are different for each surfer. Some are just stoked to be in the water, that includes me.

Floating on a surfboard in the ocean, and feeling as though you have some control over your board and your ability to be in a safe place on the continuously changing surface of the sea, is an empowering feeling, an initial sensation of basic survival.

This comes with familiarity and practice and I don't believe is natural. If you don't feel an innate fear and respect for the power of the ocean, you probably shouldn't be out there. As any child who grows up at the beach learns first off: Never turn your back on the ocean.

The adrenaline rush and survival instinct is strong when you're on the water and sometimes will lead to erratic and unsafe behavior. That is why practice and familiarity are so important. Those elements contribute to an understanding of wave judgment, which is a key to surfing.

Every surf break is different. Kelly Slater has explained how he studies every break where he competes, how the wind affects the waves, where the peaks are (which can change with the movement of a sandy bottom), what to expect from an approaching swell coming from various directions. Kelly does not paddle out without having calculated in his mind what he expects from the waves at that time. He is a consummate pro.

The perfect wave

The perfect wave for some is simply one that gives you a ride, and the longer the ride the better. For others it could be the shape of the wave, its hollowness, not necessarily its size but perhaps its speed and smoothness. Glassy conditions when there is no wind and the water is still and reflective can produce the best shaped waves, perfect for longboarding.

The perfect wave just seems to happen, as if by harmonic conversion of all the elements. Such waves are special and memorable, even for life. I remember a knee-high wave I caught at Rincon on Easter evening as the sun was setting and the wind stood still. The wave peeled quickly as I rushed across its face with a smooth, silent thrust. The picture of my board below me, seemingly perfectly still, nose above the reflective water, is etched somewhere in my mind's eye.

Believe me, I also remember crazy wipe outs and pearling head first off the face of close-out waves, an experience I hope to avoid during every session. This includes slamming my face into my fiberglass board. In such incidents, I have felt so fortunate that I was not knocked unconscious.

Most surfers, I believe, enjoy being in the water and riding just about any rideable wave that comes their way. The range of conditions only add to the thrill of it all. The perfect wave is serendipity.

Surf buddies and crowds

It's always more fun to surf with a buddy or a familiar lineup of fellow surfers. Local surfers will always watch and size up someone in the water whom they don't know. Can he or she surf? Does the newcomer understand etiquette? A savvy new surfer will carefully watch what's going on and wait to take his/her place in the lineup. Most locals who surf the same break feel some territoriality about their break. They are willing to share but don't appreciate someone who goes for every wave: a wave hog, even if he proves he can surf.

When the surf is up and waves are coming in powerful sets, everyone in the water is at greater risk as much from the waves as from the unpredictable antics of others, especially if they are not experienced. You see it all the time when there is a surf advisory -- dangerous conditions, rogue waves, rip currents, etc. -- lots of would-be surfers show up in the water and create a major hazzard.

I stay out of the water when I see all the in-coming wannabes entering the water. Better to catch a big swell early before the crowds show up, or at the tail end, when the final waves are still coming through and the carnage is over.

There are certain surf buddies with whom I enjoy riding waves together. There is a mutual understanding between us and we keep track of and watch out for each other. Although surfing is basically an individual sport, sharing a wave, or trading turns with a lineup of others, can be very satisfying and selfless, which is a good thing.

Man Drowns off West Cliff

A wave flushes through the "toilet bowl."

Dang Haus, 24, has presumably drowned near Steamer Lane, a popular surf spot on the Westside of Santa Cruz. According to witnesses, Haus jumped into the water at the "toilet bowl" above Its Beach near the lighthouse on Saturday afternoon. Steamer Lane is just on the other side of the point.

He was last seen yelling for help and his body has not been found after an extensive search by the California Coast Guard and other first responders. The fact that his body disappeared so quickly speaks to the dangerous surf conditions at the time.

News reports claim Haus was from Utah. This seems to be a case of someone who has very little if any experience with the ocean, assuming that the calm-appearing water is safe. This is far from the truth. Swells arriving during summer months are typically coming from the Southern Hemisphere which means there are periods of up to 20 minutes during which the ocean appears placid and safe. When a set of waves arrives, it can be unexpected and the waves can be powerful.

The toilet bowl is named for the swirl of water that forms from crashing waves hitting the curvature of rocks that form a bowl-like inlet to the right of the lighthouse. Anyone caught there when a set of waves comes through is in extreme danger.

Many people drown along this coastline of high cliffs and small coves. Not only should visitors understand surf conditions, they should also be aware of the changing tides. A rocky point that appears safe from the surf can become a dangerous place when the tide rises and a wave breaks with a shower of sea water.

Anyone who is not familiar with the California coastline should always heed warning signs, and seek information from those who are familiar. It really is a life or death matter. This recent drowning is not an isolated incident. Unfortunately, it happens all too often.

Saturday Surprise

The swell that everyone has been talking about finally arrived yesterday with a nice boost this morning. Sets of shoulder-high waves were coming through Cowells at intervals of about 20 minutes, while smaller waves drummed up by north winds kept a mostly continuous stream of waves coming.

Most remarkable was the sparse Saturday dawn patrol crowd of mainly recognizeable locals glancing around at each other with expressions of surprise and satisfaction. You just never know. A count of 31 heads at dawn yesterday would, one would think, foretell at least twice that many for a Saturday morning low tide.

That didn't happen and the results were appreciated with whoops and hollers and happy faces. The sandbar is still hanging around, though ever shifting slightly and creating infinite possibilities.

Water temp above 60 degrees. Little wind. Marine layer helping to hold a steady, comfortable air temp.

A little bit of longboard heaven.

Foggy Bottom Days

Fog. The lucious vapor that grows our redwoods and cools our heels is flirting with us again this summer. It seems as though it's been years since we danced the fog dance as it appears, disappears and reappears above, around and within us like smoke from a neighbor's BBQ.

"It's like normal again," said one perspicacious lad, while noting the presence of a real Santa Cruz summer, "like in the old days." It's good to see you.

Summer fog: what drew all the folks from Fresno to Santa Cruz when the San Jaoquin Valley would heat up like a great frying pan. Many stayed and made the Cruz their full time home. Now they're your neighbors.

Everyone who surfs has her story of surfing in pea-soup fog, from not being able to see that monster wave that appeared from out of nowhere, setting up either the biggest wipeout of their life or an epic ride on a wave that would never have been attempted. My favorite is a session in the hole in the fog. From the beach it was a curtain of white, yet after paddling out and through it, we found ourselves at the bottom of a tunnel of light bobbing on the water while bathed in a most wispy circle of sun. It was as if we had found a secret spot only yards away from the rest of the world.

Here's to fog, and fog horns, key elements of the changing sights and sounds of living near the sea. 

Check out the latest issue of Santa Cruz Waves magazine santacruzwaves.com. Lots of good info including an excellent article (Castles Made of Sand) on the why and how of displacement of sand from our beaches and the dire environmental consequences. Someone's paying attention!

Surf an' Turf

Royal Troon Golf Links on the Firth of Clyde

Long before people were surfing on the Mainland, folks were swinging sticks at little balls near waves on the coast of Scotland. This was also long before the invention of wetsuits, which would have been necessary if one had even considered riding a wave in these cold North Atlantic waters. 

Here at Royal Troon over the past weekend the best golfers in the world gathered to test their mettle amidst unpredictable winds off the sea to compete in one of the oldest sporting events on the globe: The British Open, known in the Old Country as, simply, The Open. 

Before you write this off as only a golf story, consider that the best surfer in the world, Kelly Slater, is also an avid and excellent golfer. Many surfers play golf when the surf is quiet especially during the summer.

The beauty of golf in Scotland is that the game is played on links courses near the sea. Links refers to the land that links land and water. You won't find trees on links courses, rather you will find dunes formed by sand. That is where sand bunkers on golf courses originated, from protected spots where sheep might hide from the elements, especially the harsh winds. 

Both golf, especially links golf, and surfing require the participant to perform under the forces of nature in its rawest form. As in surfing, the ever-changing nature of wind plays a major factor in determining the conditions for golf. This was certainly evident at Royal Troon this past weekend, where the wind gusted up to 25 mph and rain swept around the golf course.

I skipped dawn patrol to watch the final round from Scotland on TV and witnessed one of the greatest golfing duels in history. Truly epic, as my golf partner described it. The lowest score in the history of The Open was recorded by winner Henrik Stenson of Sweden who shot a 63 final round, 20 under par for the four-day tournament.

Stenson is the model of a trim and fit athlete at age 40. I was impressed by his near perfect body alignment and incredible consistency. When he peeled off his shirt on the 17th tee I thought he may have decided to go surfing. It was an unlikely scene. Rather, he was only removing an under garment due to rising humidity before pulling his golf shirt on again, dampening any notions of incivility among the more cultured spectators.

Phil Mickelson, 46, gave Henrik the challenge of his life. The swash-buckling Mickelson plays an entirely different style of game, sending the ball off course into the vilest locations, only to gather himself and make amazing recovery shots that one would expect to destroy the focus of Stenson. They both played magnificently. Mickelson finishing three strokes back with a splendid bogey-free final round 65.

It was obvious that each pushed the other to the top of his game. One for the ages.

Somewhere in the world, Kelly Slater doubtless took notice, one great athlete to two others.

Objects of Our Desire

Last year at this time we were ogling historic surfboards on display at the Santa Cruz Art & History Museum. Two of the original surfboards that Hawaiian princes pushed into the water and rode waves on at the mouth of the San Lorenzo River were resting in our midst as precious sculptures . The boards were on special loan from the Bishop Museum in Honolulu. These very boards, made from local redwood trees and milled here in town, were instrumental in introducing surfing to the North American continent (aka Mainland) in 1885.

The boards were built in Santa Cruz under the direction of three Hawaiian princes who were attending school in nearby San Mateo. Surfing was originally an "elitist" sport practiced by the Hawaiian royalty. How things have changed! 

This puts Santa Cruz on the map as the original Surf City, although a contingent from Southern California refuse to acknowledge this fact.

A former Westside neighbor, Mac Reed, was responsible for putting the pieces of the surfboard puzzle together. Mac was an avid collector of surf memorabilia and somehow sourced the boards at the Bishop Museum.

I had followed the story but it wasn't until I was in the presence of the boards that the whole thing came together for me with one big "wow!" I didn't break down and cry, or experience a spiritual epiphany, but it moved me in a strangely visceral way. Some objects, simple material pieces, I have found, carry powerful medicine, especially when they are intrinsically connected to people, events or personal memories.

Surfing today holds such a cachet and to think that a significant historic part of its story can be traced back more than 130 years to these boards is impressive. Most surfers adopt a very personal relationship with their boards. The boards themselves have a sensual, water-borne quality that helps define our relationship with the water and waves. 

The surf has been extremely fun lately. Not big. Not rough. But clean. Water clear and seasonably warm with seams between crowds and lingering sets from the south. Anytime you find yourself momentarily in sync with the forces of the ocean, going with the flow, sensing the water's rush and foam, it's a good thing.

Take care of your local beach: pack your trash, pick up and remove plastic, say hey and share the stoke. 

Surfing in Paradise

"Glassy, that state of grace: no wind, no noise, board shooting along, waves perfectly defined, absolutely themselves, their shape not affected by any other force, a realm of clarity and ease."
--Thomas Farber from "On Water"

Local surfers have been graced with ephemeral periods of glassy conditions during our early summer season when far-off waves from the Southern Hemisphere have reached the Monterey Bay.

Pods of dolphins were sighted frolicking in the surf zone yesterday. Water temp has hit the low 60s. Friends and neighbors have been enjoying the season together at various odd hours, from dawn to dusk, compliments of the sandbar provided by an early winter el nino.

One could rightly call what we have been experiencing "paradise." Be forever grateful. On our trip south last weekend we stopped in Santa Barbara and the sea air stank of thick, putrid oil, perhaps from the leak at Refugio some months ago. Perhaps from the pumping for oil on platforms off the Santa Barbara coast.

Thanks to our local representatives, in particular Leon Panetta and Sam Farr, for being instrumental in helping to designate Monterey Bay as a National Marine Sanctuary. We have an abundance of sea life out there as a result. The sea otters are back. Various species of whales, including humpback and orcas, are out there. We have one of the world's richest natural preserves in our front yard.

Surf conditions should continue to be fruitful for the next few days with a fair amount of waves for the picking.

Some Things Never Change

South Bay on July 4, Palos Verdes Peninsula, Catalina Is. in background

We threw a weekend's worth of stuff into the Prius and headed south for the Fourth of July weekend attempting to escape the fast-encroaching firework explosions of Santa Cruz and protect our friend, the precious shepherd, Frida, who hopped into the back as soon as I lifted the hatchback. She was ready to go. And we were off.

The promise of a quieter Fourth in the high-rent community of Manhattan Beach was a lure, and Barbara wanted to see her mother, Bettelu, who at 91, runs the show muy jefe at her pad two blocks from the ocean overlooking the surf break at 26th Street. Nice view.

Fireworks are illegal in both Santa Cruz and Manhattan Beach, yet we were confident that MB would be a lot quieter than the Cruz where "the road goes on forever and the party never ends." It was a good call. There was maybe an hour of pops and booms and it was over in MB.

Bettelu claimed it was extremely quiet compared to the town's normal display of explosive patriotic fervor. She seemed disappointed. Her little dog, Cooper, barked at the noise, while Frida, a much larger animal, ran for cover in the corner and shivered. She was not having a good time. Luckily it was over soon enough.

Barbara says that MB has changed since she grew up there during the Fifties and Sixties when it was a family beach town and had more fireworks. Today the houses along The Strand appear to be hotels. These behemoth buildings occupy entire lots. One thing hasn't changed, however. The same guys who grew up surfing and playing in the water here more than 50 years ago are still doing it. They meet nearly every morning at the end of Marine Street. Their focus is the surf which ties them together. Most don't live here anymore. They've been priced out.

"Who lives here?" says one of them. And they all laugh. One named Marty says he lives in Long Beach. Barbara remembers some of them from elementary school.

This is where they meet. This is their spot. They know this break better than anyone. They've lived it. They're hanging on to it as long as they can. Tim, one of the guys, says he heard that Johnny Rice died last year. Johnny was a legendary board shaper from Santa Cruz. It was good to hear Johnny's name mentioned in Manhattan Beach.

There really was not much surf over the weekend north of Orange County. There were reports of waves at Doheny, four-feet, steep but slow. Water temp at MB was about 68 but felt like bath water compared to Santa Cruz. Brian (Barbara's brother), Jack (Brian's son) and I jumped into the ocean in our trunks and tried to body womp the small disorganized shore break. It felt great. We talked about the sharks, which Brian says are common now. So are surfers.

Surfer Girl Plus

Today is the birthday of my youngest daughter, Bryna, an artist, mother and surfer, among many other talents and skills, not the least of which is her amazing fluency in Spanish. I believe she is more comfortable speaking espanol than ingles but I am only guessing.

Bryna came into this world with a red face and the umbilical cord from her mother wrapped around her neck. The doctor calmly and deftly unwrapped the chord and presented Barbara and me with our baby. She had black hair to go with her red body and she looked like a little papoose.

Little did I know that the cord around her neck was a sign of things to come, at least from this parent's perspective. Hers was a natural child birth, which I am sure she appreciates today.

Bryna is one of the few people I know who really, honestly "walks the walk." She has always followed through and done what she claimed. Her artistic talent was obvious from an early age when she would present drawings featuring detail and perspective. She won awards for her art. She took up surfing at an early age and before long she was in the lineup at The Lane, the most prominent break in "Surf City" Santa Cruz where she earned her surf cred.

She suffered a surfing accident on a small day looking for waves at Its Beach, a notorious beach break that can throw down a body and crush a neck in a nano second, and appear calm and tranquil a minute later. Her surfboard's fin sliced into her thigh and she was immediately directing others to call emergency 911. That night her mother was beside herself at the hospital waiting for the surgeon to sew Bryna's leg back together, following heavy cleansing irrigation of the fist-sized open wound.

As with any true surfer, she was back in the water as soon as she was able.

Immediately following high school graduation, her love of surf and adventure took her and her surfer girl friends to Central America and points south including Peru and Australia looking for waves. Her experiences, some near-death, at surf breaks, in jungles and on islands may be the grist of a great adventure book someday. Dengue Fever and malaria could not stop her.

I am in awe of this woman, my child, once that little papoose. She is an accomplished artist and fabulous mother of our granddaughter Viva. I salute you, my little brave one. Happy birthday!

Celebrating Independence

Independence Day weekend started Friday afternoon as many surfers took to the water to take advantage of a decent south swell mixed with a north wind swell that produced consistent lines striping the sandbar. The usual suspects showed up at their favorite nose-riding bar while oodles of weekenders also frolicked in the continuously foamy surf.

"A bad day surfing is better than just about anything else," proclaimed one visitor with a big, salty grin. 

Santa Cruz County has posted signs near beaches warning of triple fines for anyone caught shooting off fireworks. It is against the law here. Possesion of fireworks carries a fine of more than $1,300. It's pretty darned difficult to catch the noise-happy scofflaws since they far out number the enforcers. I will be taking extraordinary measures to protect my dog who is freaked out by explosions as the weekend builds toward the Fourth.

There is not a fireworks show in Santa Cruz, except for the illegal kind that have become, in some instances, rather impressive. Still, not a good holiday for our pets. Surf should be good and the water crowded. BBQ's will be noted.

Alignment of the Fittest

You could draw a straight line from this surfer's back foot through his neck.

Gerry Lopez (left), Dick Brewer and Reno Abellira in lotus position, 1969. Photo; David Darling

One thing you notice when you watch great athletes in motion is their body alignment. Skiers, jockeys. runners, dancers, surfers etc. all display amazing body control as the earth or water appears to rush below them. They remain straight and  balanced, almost as if they were standing on a street corner, although at times their bodies may be parallel to the ground or water. They're in alignment.

Gerry Lopez, one of the first surfers to master the Pipeline on the North Shore of Oahu, no doubt channeled his practice of yoga while riding waves. His style was (and still is I'm sure) so relaxed and nonchalant amid the power and looming chaos of roaring waves. He makes it look too easy.

I am a big advocate of yoga, which I practice daily. I believe if I would have started practicing regularly as a young man I would have avoided back problems later. I'll never know for sure, but I do know yoga enables me to continue to surf with modest flexibility. Yoga has taught me how to breath, both for relaxation, especially under stress, and during exercise. I have learned how to fill my lungs, hold my breath and relax my muscles while exhaling. Yoga is so much more than a stretching exercise. It is an ancient healing art that teaches you, through practice, how to maintain alignment.

A new south swell arrived today and some were fortunate enough to catch the first few sets under glassy conditions before the on-shore wind picked up. Sweet.

Gateway to Heaven

Gates. The image of a gate is symbolic of an entry as much as it is a barrier. The proverbial Pearly Gate comes to mind, the entry to heaven where St. Peter waits to either check you in, or not. If you actuality arrive at the gate, seems like you shouldn't be turned away. But if you're not on the guest list, you can forgetta 'bout it.

The California Coastal Commission recently directed the keepers of a local gate in Santa Cruz that leads to a protected surf break to open up to the public and stop charging admission or face heavy fines. It's all about public access, the collecting of money and permits. For those who surf there, it's about keeping crowds away and the inner sanctum clean and managed. They want to maintain a low key vibe.

The Coastal Commission's directive was on TV and the front page of the local daily newspaper, only drawing attention to the surf break. While I understand the commission's position I also feel for those who surf there regularly. Crowds, trash and irresponsible people can be a big problem and it will be a shame to see this cool surf break become an over-populated mess.

While the raging south swell of the past weekend has mostly dissipated, I have been contemplating these and other philosophical matters while sealing and toning our beautiful redwood gate, built by master craftsman Chris Meaham. The art of constructing something useful and of beauty from natural materials with your hands must be extremely pleasing. I enjoyed every brush stroke over the wavy grain lines in the wood that will help protect the gate from the inevitable weathering of time.

I did manage a brief session in the water yesterday during the noon hour. Then back to my gate.

Classic Waves and Woodies

The first weekend of summer has delivered a major south swell with excellent waves, more than 175 sweet-rolling woodies, longtime friends from the islands, and warm, clear weather. Take your pick. It's been win-win in the Cruz, if you know how to negotiate crowds.

Following a dawn patrol session this morning teeming with a good local vibe and lots of familiar faces -- and glassy conditions -- it's difficult to think of much else. The stoke oven is full and firing.

"These waves have a little hook on them," said Corey, who was seen getting head-dips on several rides across the bar.

They certainly showed punch on the sets that sent surfers scratching for safety. Sarah, Mike, Dave, Greg, Clark, Don and a former city mayor were among the throng. I've always found the water a reliable spot for neighborly socializing.

On Saturday my friend Rick from Maui called me and we met on the Municipal Wharf where the woodies were on display. Valued anywhere from $20,000 to $150,000, these mostly wood-paneled station wagons (some were coupes and convertibles) were lined up for the second largest woody exhibition in the country. The biggest gathering of these rolling artifacts of yesteryear is in Encinitas in September.

I learned that Henry Ford owned a forest on the Upper Peninsula of Michigan where lumber was cut and milled to make the parts of the classic woody station wagons, 1935 to 1951. Ford woodies were the last ones made featuring real wood panels. Some of these buggies feature wood-paneled and framed interiors that are as cherry as classic wooden yachts.

Rick and I were blown away by some of these choice rides featuring beautiful mahogany panels that look as nice as fine furniture.

The beaches were jumping. The surf was pumping. Did I tell you about that wave I caught...

Surf an' Sharks

Ten more Great White sharks were spotted swimming in Santa Cruz waters on Wednesday, yesterday. This is in addition to the possible sighting at Cowells on Saturday. The recent sighting is most credible coming from the Pacific Shark Research Center. The sharks were young, between five and 12-feet long, according to Dave Ebert of the center.

It has not kept most people from going into the water, especially surfers. Santa Cruz Little Guards, however, did not get wet at Cowells Beach on Monday. A decent south swell is running in Santa Cruz today and surfers are going for it with big smiles. So far, no harm no foul. The long-lined waves are too hard to resist.

"There's no in between waves," said one notorious local, "but if you catch a set wave it's funner than shit." Some surfers know how to turn a phrase.

Hold that Note

     The thing about surfing, Chip told me, is that "you leave no trail." Yessir, Mickey agreed: "It's like music -- you play it and it's done."
     The strategy you're looking for is the one that teaches you to hold the note.
                                                                   -- Bob Shacochis from "Return of the Prodigal Surfer"

Hanging on to that ephemeral note that vibrates as one long chime, rather than the ear-worm loop from some pop song that can annoy you to death, is similar to solving a zen riddle. You don't try to do it, you just let it happen. The more you concentrate on making it happen, the further away it becomes. This morning's session on the sandbar was a case in point.

The strategy was to allow the waves to come to you rather than paddling helter shelter trying to find a workable peak. There were definite indicators of a south swell -- long period lulls followed by a flurry of activity with faces rolling quickly over the bar. Mixed with fast-changing surface winds, however, there seemed no rhyme to wave shape or direction.

Although the shallow water was as warm as a baby's bath from a few days of intense sunshine and little wind, the breezes that were blowing beneath the morning marine layer carried a chill that made sitting and waiting a losing gambit.

Lots of smiles and chatter about the shark sighting (most calling it a hoax) and about needing to leave soon for work, projects and, of course surfboards, punctuated the camaraderie of a sweet day-breaking session.

A Surfing Giant

A few ripples early this morning, with two hopeful souls out scratching for a lift.

I am of an age to have witnessed the passing of too many friends. Andy Conahan was such a friend and one of my original surfing buddies. Andy died way too young from ALS, at age 61. Long before he passed, however, he achieved unique recognition on a national scale for his surfing prowess. In the late 1960s he performed in tandem with his girlfriend Candy on ABC Television's Wide World of Sports.

Anyone who remembers that weekly, Saturday afternoon program will recall that it was not about any particular sport, but rather unique athletic challenges. This particular episode was live footage of the world surfing championship at Huntington Beach, California. Although growing in popularity, surfing was still somewhat of a novelty for the average TV viewer.

Andy was one of those people you never forget. He was blessed with a sly smile, an athletic body and a daring sense of adventure. He was also the most observant person I have ever known. And he had an uncanny understanding of the criminal mind.

We started surfing together in 1962 mostly at Doheny State Beach in south Orange County. It was a point break, river mouth paradise. We got around on bicycles then, but when my parents and sister went to see the World's Fair in Seattle and, incredibly, left me home alone, Andy was quick to locate the keys to my father's commuter car in the garage. We were 15. I had never driven a car before, but within 24 hours we were tooling 75-miles of highways across OC to Doheny. He had found the keys but I insisted on driving.

By the time we were seniors in high school, Andy was ditching school every day to go surfing. He had a part-time job at a pharmacy from which he pilfered prescription paper he would use to write excuses for his absence from school. I would forge his mother's signature on the excuse slips. I went to class; Andy went surfing.

He drove a souped up '56 Ford that he would race on Pacific Coast Highway between Doheny and Poche early in the morning when there were no waves. I remember him shutting down a local braggart one morning with his pink slip on the line.

In the water Andy would sit as far outside as possible and wait for the biggest wave, regardless of how long it took. I remember him breaking his wrist on the rocks at Killer Dana. I gave up surfing, which was more of a weekend thing for me, and left town for college. Andy kept riding waves, during which time he performed before a TV audience of millions, as noted above.

Some years passed before I saw him again.  We met for coffee and I learned that he was an investigator for the Torrance Police Department. That figured. His knack of careful observation and understanding of "criminal" behavior, I'm sure, made him a good investigator.

"I was driving one day and I heard an ad on the radio for police officers in the city of Montebello," he told me. "I was just bumming around surfing, so I checked it out." The rest is history, as they say.

The last time I saw him was in Palm Springs at a class get-together for a few of the guys and our wives. He looked good. He said he hadn't surfed in years, but I could see that he had been lifting weights from size of his chest and biceps. He still had the broad shoulders that enabled him to ride tandem on a surfboard while holding up an acrobatic woman.

I mentioned that I was surfing again in Santa Cruz. He asked me if I knew Bob Scott, one of his fellow tandem competitors in the '60s, who was from Santa Cruz. I said, yes, assuming he was referring to Doc Scott, a local icon and developer of Pro-Plugs ear plugs to protect the ear canal from the cold Northern California water. I made a note to ask Doc the next time I saw him if he remembered Andy.

He was driving a Corvette, his car of choice following high school. He liked fast, high-profile cars. He married an Italian woman whom he had rescued one night while on his police beat.

"Look at Paul," he turned his head toward a mutual high school friend who was standing, arms akimbo -- hands on his hips -- chatting with a few of the guys. "That's the same stance he took standing behind the starting blocks before a race."

Sure enough, Paul, at one time a top sprinter, had taken that same posture. I thought to myself, only Conahan would have noticed and remembered. It was Paul who informed me of Andy's passing. Paul had called to catch up a year or so after Palm Springs and talked to Andy's wife who explained his unexpected and hasty demise from ALS.

I am so glad that I got to see Andy again after so many years. In my mind, he will always be a surfing giant.

Summer Solstice Strawberry Moon

Today is the summer solstice combined with a full moon, the first such combination since 1948. It's the longest day of year and people will be partying at Stonehenge today as the sun reaches its northern most point on Earth before the rotation begins to give us shorter days starting tomorrow. Tonight's full moon is being called a Strawberry Moon as it coincides with the strawberry growing season according to Native American lore.
http://www.bbc.com/news/uk-england-wiltshire-36579438

What does this have to do with surfing? Nothing and everything.

The string of south swells that were forecast to arrive from below New Zealand has not materialized, yet, and the waves have been essentially non-existent, save for a few ankle biters on the sandbar. Still, many are taking to the water seeking summer fun and relief from rare ninety degree air temperatures.

Surf depends on waves that are created by distant storms and nearer winds. The direction and shape of waves are determined by the angles from which they arrive and the tide depths, exposure and other particular characteristics of the shore such as reefs, sand movement and more. It's all directly related to a land-water connection that surfers become attuned to. So we pay attention to how the elements of nature are affecting our planet. Very cosmic, in a sense. Very basic, for sure.

Most of us love to stare at the ocean and observe its nuances created mostly by wind. It's part of the deal and it keeps us grounded and ready for the next series of waves, whenever that might be.

The Monterey Bay is recipient of mostly northwest swells during the fall and winter months. Today's solstice, for local surfers, could be the beginning of the summer doldrums. Let's hope not.

In any event, may the next wave be yours.

Shark update

Counted 16 people in the water before 6am today, most of whom either didn't see or ignored the shark warning sign at the top of the steps. Unless it says "free," I have found that folks don't read signs.

Sean van Sommeran of the Pelagic Shark Research Foundation (Google it for more info) says that there have been sightings of Great White pups and yearlings in the Monterey Bay this year for the first time. "It's always a good idea to post alerts and updates regarding shark sightings in order to inform and adapt visitors to the area and our shared coastal regions... It's for real, so always be careful and alert while enjoying the marine environment and coastal waterways."

Just because they're out there doesn't mean that you don't need to be afraid.

Happy Father's Day!

What you see is what you get

We each see things from our own perspective. If the wave is moving toward you it looks much larger than it looks from behind the wave. Looking at it from a prone position on your board the wave looks much larger than it does looking at it from above, say, on the cliffs looking down. We each look at things from our own perspective, yet assume that everyone sees the same thing.

Some people see sharks.

The waves appeared small today. The swell of the past couple of days has begun to diminish in size and power. At least three more swells from below New Zealand are forcast to arrive during the next few days. The air temperature rose into the seventies today although it felt  hotter as the air seemed to stand still on shore while white caps crested out on the bay. Lots of visitors in town seeking recreation and the cool relief of the ocean.

I walked Frida along the beach early while the tide was still low, checking the gravel beds for surprises and curious flotsam. You never know what you might find. The pickings were slim on this morning save for a couple of empty plastic bags and the usual small stones and few clam shells. The surf break was already crowded with more people than waves and I had written off going out. I was glad that the waves were not worth negotiating all the bodies. I'm sure those who had come from the valleys and beyond saw it differently.

Great White Sighting at Cowells

Always a possibility but we will check our sources and proceed accordingly.

Chasing Dolphins

Seeing a decent swell at my home break this morning, and getting out in it, made for a sweet return home. The news lately has been a real bummer and I woke up super early with the nabobs nattering in my skull, those know-it-all cretins that react predictably ignorant to any and all "news" events. And the media just loves to feed them, of course, to get their ratings up and sell more product. I was feeling overfed and reluctant to buy. Would the waves save me? They certainly helped.

Got into it early. My mind was put at ease by a sizeable set wave that took me all the way through the sections and nearly to the beach. Hello. That's more like it. Be in the moment. On the water. Hey to the usual suspects out there with me, sharing the stoke before the sun peeked over the eastern ridge.

Good morning!

There's DR coming down the line on a head-high slider wave of the day Yeah!

Juan looks spiffy in a new wetsuit, had to double take that it was really him.

"You don't look right," I say. "New wetsuit?"

"No more Swiss cheese," he says with a big smile, referring to the wetsuit full of holes that he has worn for years.

Meg, Brian, Ron are out, too. Brian carves a a long ride from the point outside to the shallows, stylin all the way.

There was a high surf advisory in Southern California yesterday but I didn't see waves at C-Street or Rincon driving home. The Channel Islands prevent south swells from reaching these points, while waves are breaking farther south in Santa Monica Bay and Orange County.

Adding to the coastal malaise, a brush fire broke out in Refugio Canyon and jumped Highway 1, which was closed for about 24 hours. I was prepared to take an alternate route that bypasses the coast north of Santa Barbara, going up past Lake Cachuma, but PCH was reopened around 8am just before I got there. Stale grey smoke hung in the air like an unwanted guest at a party.

Speaking of unwanted guests, Trump the Big Mouth was making his own foolish news pointing fingers at immigrants and Democrats as the cause of the Orlando slaughter by automatic weapons while sales of those same guns were going faster than Super Bowl tickets. Everyone needs a military-style weapon with a full magazine. You get the feeling that the NRA is behind all the mass shootings, not terrorists. It's good business, high profit margin. It's easy for these murderers to say they're terrorists when they're insane. Nearly every one of them is mentally ill. Then there's the argument that guns don't kill people, people kill people. They just happen to use guns. Duh. It's pretty clear that it's all about selling guns. Profit before people.

Meanwhile once-reputable Sen. John McCain is caught blaming the president for the Orlando massacre, because Obama withdrew troops from Iraq. Why were we in Iraq in the first place? Do you think, Senator, that invading the Middle East might have anything to do with creating a backlash of terrorists? Put yourself in their shoes for a second. Granted, there is no easy solution. We at least need to carry on a reasonable dialogue if we are to solve our problems. Instead, it's the blame game. Come on, folks. It's our fault, each and every one of us, for putting up with this shit.

Boycott media. Pay attention to your own actions. Don't blame others for your problems. Stop
consuming so much. Look between the lines. Understand subtly and nuance. The world is not black and white. We are all in this together.

Let's go surfing.

Surf Check

Forecast south swell was not showing yet at C-Street, Ventura this morning. So we trucked on to Santa Barbara Zoo for the day. Finn and Samson making like long-lost surf buddies in front of the camera.

Road Trip to SoCal

No surf yesterday at Rincon or California Street, Ventura. I've got business in SoCal with two of my best buddies. Probably won't check surf for a couple of days, back on it soon.  Enjoy these longest days of the year while they last.

Checking spider web with Samson and Finn.

The late Dennis Kamakahi

  

Good for the soul

Saturday's Child

Early Cowells before the wind came up and the Ride a Wave folks arrived. Check rideawave.org for more info about this admirable program that introduces kids with special needs to ocean waves.

Gone Fishing

Flat today. Lake Monterey. Good day to wax your board, go fishing or listen to surf music. Juan and Ron were out at dawn -- two ducks on the pond -- and I can vouch that each rode a wave, or what might possibly be called a wave. How many days is that, boys?

You shoulda been here yesterday!

Miki Dora set the profile for stylish longboarding in the 1960s at Malibu. Miki visited Santa Cruz during that period, according to my buddy Geoff Dunn who tells the story. The tale involves the Boardwalk arcade, the Rivermouth and a sunny summer day, as I recall. You'll have to ask Geoff for specifics. The day he told me the story we were sitting on the beach and he got so excited the yarn seemed to spin in several directions. A good surf story, though, and probably true.

                                       Miki "da Cat" Dora                  Photo: Craig Stecyk                                      

 "The best surfer out there is the one having the most fun." -- attributed to both Duke Kahanamoku and Phil Edwards

Everyone had fun this morning at daybreak. That is, once they were in the water: glassy, smooth-peeling knee-high waves. It was not fun, however, descending the stairs at Cowells where some Neanderthal had fouled the steps. Disgusting. Remarks were flying among those in the lineup, some classic but need not be repeated. The surf easily overcame any low-life offensiveness.

Among the more interesting sights: Ron saw a halibut wallowing in the shallows. I watched a spotted seal swim beneath a wave I was riding.

Stoked.

Dawn Patrol

Headin' out

Greg and Rosie

Dave got his beater bike back

Waves are scarce but if there's a ripple to ride, locals will jump on it just to be in the water. I caught DR jumping off his bike and heading down to the bar.

"My girlfriend's out there, so I'm going," he says as a way of explanation.

"She says she wants to get back into surfing. I told her, ' You've got a board. You've got a wetsuit. All you have to do is go." Basic surf wisdom.

Then he starts excitedly talking about the waves last week and how good they were. Expounding on an earlier session is a mainstay of many surfers. We like to tell our compadres what they missed yesterday, which was invariably better than today.

A young couple are checking the surf deciding whether to go out. I tell them to grab their boards and go.

"We are," says the guy. The gal smiles. A small set just came through. I'm confident that they know what they're doing. You can just tell. There are so many millenial-aged longboarders who surf gracefully in the traditional style.

"Just friends and neighbors out there," I say.

"It's a good day to make friends," he says.

Short Term Memory Lane

Cayucos surging on a swell last winter

Wind & sea at Manhattan Beach 

El Niño run off at Its Beach, Santa Cruz

Checking the sandbar at Cowells this morning I couldn't help but think back to the storms of last winter and where all the sand came from. Here are a few pics that help tell the story, or at least jog the memory. This is what you do when there aren't any waves. Or check your board for dings and wax to be ready for the next swell.

All Quiet on the Westside Bar

Low tide at -1.57 ft. at 6:14 am

Sandbar: a retrospective

Every winter when the rain comes surfers start talking about the possibility of sandbars. Thanks to last winter's El Nino (warm Pacific Ocean waters that lead to evaporation and rain storms), sandbars were formed at many of the usual breaks in town creating shallow depths that help shape and propel waves. Many new, mystery breaks favored by locals were also formed. We don't talk about the latter. We'll just leave it at that.

El Nino driven winter storm swell

Sand filled into this cove and the waves were so epic and the surfing so good the cameras came out

The sand comes from the erosion of cliffs and sandstone that is washed out to sea by runoff from rain down the creeks and rivers. Due to the continuous movement of water and currents and tides, sand likewise continues to move. A good sandbar will only remain so long. Everything about surfing is like that: it's continuously in motion and changing and dependent on wind and its direction and of course storm systems that come to the West Coast from predominantly the north Pacific in fall & winter and south Pacific in spring.

Sandbar forming at Cowells, Dec. 2015

Cowells is on the map as the best surfing spot for beginners in California. Experienced noseriders also show up here when a sandbar appears as it did this winter. Every Westsider made it down to the new beach, if only to chill with neighbors and watch the little ones surf. South swells this spring have been epic.

Run off from El Nino