Saturday, December 14, 2013

Full Circle.

Not-so recent activity: Been traveling a bit to the left coast. Waves were chest high for two weeks. Still been frothing over my Jersey score from earlier this year. Jetty sensations. Finally hot-coated and rode the single fin pocket rocket. This board is so fun in chest high surf. So much drive and retro flow. Some shots from "the archives": And remember…..next time you surf with 30 people, somewhere in this country there is someone surfing with 300 people. And they are more stoked than you? Can't be. Stop the padded fist fights and keep your composure dammit. Remember the way of the surfer. But if you don't choose the dark side expect to get your hand lopped off and replaced by a sweet robot arm. Much like Luke Skywalkers…...

Saturday, November 30, 2013

Holidays…...

Things are picking up as far as Ocean activity goes. This passed Sunday I was working 200+ miles out at George's bank. In 15 foot NW swells as well as 50mph gusts and near white out blizzard conditions, moving a 95lb lobster trap around the deck of a 75ft hi-liner in 15ft seas was cross-training at its finest. Just something I keep on my mind to prevent me from going crazy while we're out on our week long trips. Tried to get the go pro out but the battery was drained(turned itself on in the night's 15-20ft beating). Sitting on watch was like being on a roller coaster. The walls of water would roll gently and as the boat slammed through the peak of each approaching wave would careen down the steep wind driven face of the backside of the wave. Twenty seven hours later we made enough headway out of the fetch and seas tapered down; about 6-12ft. At one point in the first leg of the journey home I woke up mid-air and had to shove myself back into my top bunk off of the ceiling. Great fun. We had waves on Thanksgiving again! here are some shots from various sources. Hopefully the wave machine stays on. Our tropical season was WAY too quiet. TOOOOOO quiet. Ten years ago there was a winter. In that winter there were 3 low pressure systems per week producing world class surf on all reaches of New England. Hopefully we're back in that pattern. Stay warm. Photo credit: T. Hinman

Saturday, July 27, 2013

Last night will hold a solid vision burned in my mind for years to come. Every bit of my being has been affected by what I experienced. It has felt like AGES since this feeling has come to resonate within the heart of my soul. Surfing is pure nature. Aside from our man made devices we ride upon, the act of surfing is the act of immersing yourself in Nature. The horizon was worth writing innumerable words of its cherry hue as the Ocean reflected and churned. All the while, solid and consistent waist to head high groundswell swept over one of my favorite reefs. One hour later, three people in the lineup and we were all stoked. Wave counts were maxed out. Solid head high runners for hours. Barrel sections, air sections, the surf was getting better. The sun was dropping, the lighting was f*cking surreal! The sky turned all shades of yellow to orange finishing with reds to fluorescent pink to greyed out purples accented by an offshore storm-front. If this wasn't good enough, the entire session was in full double-rainbow over the horizon, "holy shit nature is making me so f*cking high on life" fairy-tale land. I think they call these mystical experiences. This is why it all started for me and it's taken almost thirteen years to understand this. Charged. I can only begin to describe the plateau of bliss I was on for those two to two and a half hours of surf. All natural liquid molding and bending over reef, uninterrupted. Hooked. For life. Have been, will be always wanting more. JB

Monday, May 6, 2013

"That's not rideable" = B.S. Bad Attitudes = You look like a fucking joke.

One thing is for sure. There's all ways a way to shred. Whether it be your favorite Sunday times news paper out of flat-spell low interval mushy surf driven frustration or mind bending the crap out of something on a skateboard. Never say "it's not rideable". I will never forget my first experience on my 5'6" Vec shaped for me years ago. It's virtually bullet proof and is still water tight! There's all ways something to shred somewhere. I can surf 1/2 a foot to over-head on that 5'6" x 19.25" x 2 5/8" magic carpet!! We all can't make it to our favorite liquid ramps all the time. So if you can't rip, tear or shred a turn at your favorite break you can try a VAST ARRAY OF OPTIONS. 1. Tearing up Sunday's paper 2. Ripping up your favorite paper- back novella 3. Shredding some confidential documents at the work place 4. Slaying some epic cuisine 5. IF YOU SURF AND DON'T SKATEBOARD YOU NEED TO START (it may be the key to re claiming your surf-fever driven insanity!!!!) 6. Crank an attitude as a local scene-ster! (way too much localism going on lately!) Shots from the weekend: Franken-ramp keeps expanding. "Oh damn, a wall ride mini full-bowl!?....no WAY is the transition rideable!" "So rideable!" J A gets a ton of props(and should from everyone) for the continuous blood sweat tears and man hours he's put into this ramp.(not to mention his great surf etiquette!) He is the man. If you see him in the water you should let him know how fucking Newport and local he is.

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Blizz'd Up!

Been snowed in lately but it wasn't enough for me to stop and think, "hey, it's cold outside, stay in by the fire and keep warm." Got ahold of a 4x4 vehicle and charged through snow covered roads. Two hours of searching, driving , donuts, and fishtails led me to some dark n' stormy barrels. Never lose hope in the search. Surprises will find an open perception. STAY WARM!!!!!!!!!!!!

Saturday, January 26, 2013

It's the waiting in between those dream sessions we have that make a day with perfect conditions have that surreal dreamy magic.

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Journal Entry: Dec. 8th 2005 : 4:15am

    
  Awoke this morning to find Mother Nature had dumped buckets of snow. A solid blanket covered everything. Brewed a jarring pot of coffee, filled my X-Gulp, still had no idea how much snow was outside.  Opening the door was the first challenge that faced me. It took a few good body thrusts against my Mattapoisett home's storm door to get it open , the snow was packed fairly well against the exterior.  With dry winter suit, coffee, and 2 surfboards in hand, I trudged through the snow, about knee deep. The next task was carving through the pillow of snow that surrounded my 1992 rear wheel drive Ford Ranger 4 x 2 - 4 cylinder. Eventually uncovered, I started up my ride to the beach, next in sequence was the snow blower. It wouldn't start. Pull after pull on the rip chord, it sputtered and sounded hopeless. Luckily there was also an electric starter because on about pull 41 or 42 it snapped clear from the machine and that's when the snow fell from the plug and the button for the electric starter. A self propelled beauty of a machine with 9 speeds. Twenty minutes later the driveway was clear.
       I threw 5 bags of Quick Crete in the back or my truck directly over the rear axle, stuffed two boards and a duffel bag full of warm layers on top of the yellow dusty anchor weight and spun my wheels out of the driveway. Hopefully I could make my way through the remaining blizzard to a desolate location near the Sea. Hitting an unplowed road would ruin my attempt at surfing. my Ranger didn't have 4-wheel drive. One hour and about thirty minutes later after a tricky slick road-ride I saw perfection. Untouched. Not a trace of a human being around aside from a freshly plowed parking lot. It was about dark-thirty and the first signs of daylight were approaching. I began suiting up.
       Conditions were wild. Snow covered everything. A light offshore breeze and untouched snow set a surreal tone in the early morning hues. One final blast of heat and some more warmth to my core sipping coffee, I shut my truck down and stepped into the Wintry elements. What was I thinking!? This was insane. This was Love.
        As the waves furled against an equally matched velocity of offshore wind I realized how alive the Ocean was. These weren't waves, these were living creatures. Every right hand wave peeled across the reef resembling a dragon in flight, mouth wide opened. A dark and scary cavern only the believers could make it through. Pitch as black. Eventually past the break of the 1-2ft overhead walls, sets of 5 or 6, I picked off # 4. Taking off was a breeze and checking into the pocket was textbook. The anomaly was the ride. The Ocean opened it's mouth wide and gave me a view I could never forget. Amidst the chaos & white noise of falling through time in space upon a vertical liquid face I snapped a mental photograph. In this moment time seemed to stand still as I peered out the oval frame of light, The Exit.
       Not yet, this was too beautiful. The silver light shown through the liquid ceiling accenting everything around me. It went from pitch black to this. The shore, lined with snow and a brief interlude of ocean sand amidst the whiteness, had captivated my attention. I felt a moment of bliss only a surfer can tell you. 

       You only live once. This bliss doesn't have to fade. Praying this winter kicks it up a notch.

JB