Tagged

Home to local lore and no shortage of rumor and innuendo,Mobile Madness gets a ghetto face lift, surfy style. New condo owners, welcome to your neighborhood, want to learn to surf?


Art work by Sam. Medium: Spray can.

Dog cords

This is off the Freeline board which itself is 25 years old, not sure that it's the original leash or something poached off another tail. Somebody made these by hand, somebody who probably surfed? No mold injectors in Thailand, no riveters on assembly lines and no big cans on the deck of a ship headed into the L.A. Basin filled with surf goodies made by people who may never see the ocean in their entire lives.

No matter, we buy consumer goods left and right with never a thought as to the people who work on them. No I'm not going into the whole slave labor thing with you, just knock it off for once please...........:-).

I like the fisherman's swivel, very cutting edge! Somebody had buckets of them I'm sure and couldn't find anything stronger at the time. The rubber collars are a little stressed too. Decayed might be more accurate. Stitched on a small commercial sewer.

We built leashes in high school from surgical tubing and cord, then sold them as we got better at turning them out. And nervously paddled out, not sure if we were going to be abused by the old guard for clogging the line-up or possibly get an extra $10 by selling a new one.

People forget or don't even know that the cord was reviled when it made it's entrance into the break. Now you can take the position that leashless surfers are a hazard and actually find support........what the fuck?!

6' 1" x 203/4" x 23/4"

This belongs to a long time friend of mine, I have to admit to coveting this stick over the years, kind of like the song "Jesse's Girl" by Rick Springfield. It was built in 1982 as a twinnie by John Mel in S.C. and was a super fun ride as I recall now, but that could be hindsight....;-). It was a twinnie that didn't slide out in my memory bank, but Pat recalls her differently and hence the small trailer fin was added.

In '82 we surfed a fun corner of the coast with just a handful of people (4'-6'and offshore, sunny) and Pat's dog Primo charged across the rocks after a white tailed deer. He didn't get to it as the deer took the swimmers path and leaped into ocean, not coming out till she was safely out of reach hundreds of yards away heading up the sheer cliffs.


In '82...... we were of course younger, less lined and fuller in head hair. The kids were kids, not adults training for a trip up Mt. Kilimanjaro. 101 wound it's way more leisurely through quiet little hamlets in this area and Rellie thought 6'-8' and glassy was funny, still.

Four mile

Backpack full for the day, surfboard on left side, right toe digs in for the pull ahead.

Rockfaces, foam and flowers.

2.4 miles of loosely attached rock. 800' high.......enough to reach out and catch a bomber in 1943.

Wild Iris.



Birds living precarious lives above the foam line.

Temple of the Blue Wave

My first trip to Mecca in 1974, this is the last remaining picture of that visit. No houses on the point just dune and fynbos. Christmas day dawned with Supers breaking 6-8', it took me 20 minutes to nerve up and drop into a wave. Fear that I would blow a takeoff and get smeared at Boneyards. This is a low tide shot and a bit windblown, locals wouldn't even look at it when it was like this.

Chris Knutsen spent some of his formative teen years here and was one of South Africa's style masters, probably still is. He talked of surfing alone when it was under 8' as the boy's were uninterested in anything below that magic marker.

Six weeks of porch camping, veggie stews with the P.E. boys and Aussies. Watching Larry Levine shape boards, getting boosted from Peter Daniels yard because he already had enough groms camping there. Being blown away by Davey Stolk's surfing.

The long uncomfortable ride to Jbay with the German who played Nazi rally tapes from the 2nd World War. Apropos he thought he had found kindred souls in Apartheid S.A. The craziest full tilt drive back to Durban 750 miles in about 15 hours with a fender bender thrown in for good measure.

Waves so perfect that it changed the way I surfed and looked at waves forever. And I had answered a somewhat sneered question of a classmate, "What will you do if Supertubes breaks?" The ocean dropped off some prezzies that Christmas Day and I pulled the trigger and unwrapped them. Question answered.

Two pair overalls, one cowboy hat.

It's broken down now, but it was the local gas station and laundromat for a small community. And this was Hwy 101 winding it's way back to the coast. Now it's a chicken coop and 101 was relocated some 25 years ago, closer to the Pacific, widened and straightened of a little hamlet charm in the process.

The Kinneman's ran the place, a couple married and together so long they began to resemble each other. Both dressed in overalls and appearing so similar that the only way to tell them apart was to hope Mr. Kinneman was wearing his cowboy hat. Soda sipping in the sun while beach towels tumble dry.

Gone too are the signage of winged horse and gas priced to 9/10ths blowing in the winds.

Adrenal overload.

This will get your attention, even if you're wrong..................

A dollar is just a nickel .

The littlest of mermaid money...........

Nape hair raising........

Well, there is an unrelenting onslaught of non-locals who have invaded the cove and gas chambers, they have no problem going to your inside and taking position. They have no etiquette is what I'm saying...... They even bring their kids into the peak!!!

I'm pretty sure that they are passing the word around that we are an easy bunch to take advantage of as they make their way north to Alaska. There is a new group every week.

Word is that we have contracted with some tough guys from Orcas Island to sort them out and some hangers on have joined the posse. Those guys are scaring the crap out of the surfers here and at Gleneden as well.