Life's A Beach...

The Curious World Of Tandem Surfing

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Thu, 06 Nov 2008 00:01:00 +0000

When Marvin Gaye sang "It takes two baby" I doubt he was referring to a couple on a surfboard but if the International Tandem Surfing Association (yes ITSA mouthful) is looking for an anthem, it would surely suffice.

Like so much in surfing, the origins of tandem surfing owe much to the Hawaiians. The story goes that as tourists flocked to Waikiki at the beginning of the 20th Century to watch the likes of Duke Kahanmoku strut their stuff, the urge to "catch a wave" had the male visitors solo out and give it a go. Their wives and daughters, not to be outdone, hired the locals and were "escorted" out into the surf and shared a board.

I've watched Mr M at our club - one of those watermen with shockingly precocious wave riding skills - take his tandem board out with a lady from time to time. The stick is so big, watching him unsheath it from the board bag reminds me of Cold war footage of missiles emerging from silos. And his surf board's impressive too.

The body strength required of the male half of a tandem team usually means that stick insects need not apply even if the girl being carried is usually a slip of a thing. I read somewhere that there's no rule that says the girl can't carry the bloke. Now, there's something to draw a crowd. I haven't heard of same sex tandem teams but I'm sure it's only a matter of time.

The closest I've come to two on a board is when Spike (who's a she) rolled me onto a Rescue Board in an impromptu and rather impressive display of lifesaving skills. Of course, as evidenced below, it can all go a bit "Pete Tong" - which only highlights how skillful (if still slightly curious IMHO) the sport is.

Serena's A Surfing Beach Bum...

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Mon, 20 Oct 2008 21:48:00 +0000

...and it was always going to be difficult to ignore a headline like that, especially with the attached picture as explanatory accompaniment.

Yes, yet again I have been leafing, nay loitering, through the pages of the builder's daily rags. Obviously, as this post evidences, the salacious tone of the Sun & Star is rubbing off. Plus ça change, perhaps, but I fear that wherever I may have fancied the tonal denominator this blog was previously set, it is swinging disturbingly close to "lowest" and "common". Another night sleeping on the floor with just a bottle of Bush to keep me company. I really hope we have our home back soon.

More Beach Fashion Gone Wrong...

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Sat, 04 Oct 2008 20:04:00 +0000

...or is that thong? The builders tend to leave their titillating tabloids on the table - which is proving a bit of an education for the Nippers. The Dow Jones may be jaw-dropping, Wall Street is wobbling and the FTSE's being kicked around like an old casing but for the readers of the Daily Star, this news can't compete with headlines like "Blackmail Over My Porn Movie". Of course, I can't lower myself to read the gutter press so I can't imagine how this clipping ended up here.

Perranporth Triathlon 2008 Pictures

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Tue, 30 Sep 2008 15:09:00 +0000

... are now on-line for those who have been emailing me asking where they were. Thanks to Jonty & Giles for helping out with the snaps! If you didn't click on the picture, you can wade through the shots here.

Cornish Rollers Wash Up At The Driftwood

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Thu, 25 Sep 2008 19:39:00 +0000

Cornish Rollers by Sam Walsh

I'm up to my oxters with this damn building project but, like a determined sperm seeking to pierce the egg, a PR shot from the Driftwood Gallery has wriggled its way past all the other trash in my in-tray for release here. I generally find "galleries" places where priced up pretension parades from dawn 'til dusk but I will make an exception for the Driftwood. Afterall, the flotsam and jetsam that washes up there from time to time did introduce me to Harry Daily and, based on the blurb and, more importantly, the images below, I definitely, positively want to check out Mr.Walsh's work.

" Cornish Rollers", pictured above, reminds me of those eye tests you had at school to check for colour blindness. If you can see a number in there, do let me know - just in case. I picked this image as my favourite from those Cherie at the Driftwood mailed me. The second picture below was actually the one that caught my eye. It's called ‘Fistral Ballet’ and "it’s about collective humanity moving through space." Are we all moving to Mars? I'm not sure what that means but it chimed with images in my head from the weekend when circa 200 triatheletes gathered on Perranporth beach, heads shrink wrapped with yellow swim caps ready to swim, cycle and run 'til they dropped. Art mimics life they say, or is it the other way round? PR below ...

Sam Walsh will be at the Driftwood Gallery in Truro on Saturday, November 8th from 2pm to 5pm to launch some specially selected original paintings from his personal diaries.

Sam, now in his early sixties, found his way south to Cornwall during his late teens with a desire to improve his life. In the mid sixties he found his creative domicile in the small Cornish village of Newquay, on the North Atlantic Coast and became embraced by its embryonic culture.

Fistral Ballet By Sam Walsh

A man for whom the painted image is far more natural than the written word, he uses his art to express his emotional voyage upon the sea of life. Sam is dyslexic and admits his inability to represent his thoughts and feelings in the written form leaves him sad but this fuels his constant search to leave his mark through his art. Sam says his favourite artists are the cave painters of aeons before, who with no written language available to them, chose form and colour to represent their living world.

Taking a therapeutic approach to this artistic journey, he suggests his work is a collision of colours which record his emotions in a formatted visual expression at a specific moment in time. Each of Sam’s paintings or sculptures is a page in a very personal diary. Strongly influenced by Surfing and fellow Surfers; many of his images depict surf saturated beaches of local renown, and local surf culture influences his work clearly. He has many strong ties with people of the sport and seems to have a thorough understanding of ‘surfers’ and what makes them tick.

In Sam’s own words, “My paintings are, for me, a multi-dimensional representation of the world that I see and feel. Sure, there are obstacles in life … and some of that moves me to want to leave messages about it. Plus simple joy sometimes needs a signpost for us to see it. I’m completely fulfilled to spend my time endeavouring to give shape, colour and form to my passing visions of life”.

After working in construction and then local radio, Sam left work to attend Camborne Art College in Cornwall for two years in which he completed an Access to Art course. Sam speaks very highly of the staff at the college giving special thanks his tutor Mr. Patrick Laurie. Soon after finishing college he won a competition to create a major piece of sculpture for a multi-million pound surfing complex on Fistral Beach in Newquay. He’s also had several exhibitions throughout Cornwall including a prestigious show in St.Ives.

Surfing Sold Everything...

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 23:56:00 +0000

...even Boney M albums - now there's a cat that really was gone.

Wake Up Maggie...

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Sun, 07 Sep 2008 22:28:00 +0000

Photo By Maggie Marsek

... I think I got something to say to you. I like your eye - I mean the one that looks through the lens of whatever camera(s) you use. I was going to spend time bastardising the magnificent Rod's lyrics but it all sounded too smart-ass to be witty, let alone sincere. I'll let your photographs elucidate & illuminate instead. If you haven't checked out Maggie Marsek's work before, then get clicking here now.

Mark Twain On Wipeouts

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 23:27:00 +0000

A fine chap called Gregory emailed me and had me wondering if I could be the next Face Of A Major Surf label. I have to say I wondered about that possibility for longer than a nanosecond - but only just. I spent much longer re-playing some waves caught & lost at the weekend. I was trying out a boogie board that Sea Nymph won in a raffle. The old hamstring is healing well but I figured I'd take the opportunity to flex a flipper and check the twinge factor. I got as much craic sitting out the back and watching some mates surf with the confidence and skill that comes with having spent time in the ocean from more or less around the time they gave up breastfeeding.

From Roughing It by Mark Twain

"In one place we came upon a large company of naked natives, of both sexes and all ages, amusing themselves with the national pastime of surf-bathing. Each heathen (sic) would paddle three or four hundred yards out to sea (taking a short board with him), then face the shore and wait for a particularly prodigious billow to come along; at the right moment he would fling his board upon its foamy crest and himself upon the board, and here he would come whizzing by like a bombshell! It did not seem that a lightning express-train could shoot along at a more hair-lifting speed. I tried surf-bathing once, subsequently, but made a failure of it. I got the board placed right, and at the right moment, too; but missed the connection myself. The board struck the shore in three-quarters of a second, without any cargo, and I struck the bottom about the same time, with a couple of barrels of water in me. None but natives ever master the art of surf-bathing thoroughly.

Ain't that the truth Mr.Twain...

August, Aileens, Al and Andrew

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 22:40:00 +0000

Like being pinned down by a wave, force feeding on sand, it was when my head started throbbing that I figured I'd been holding my breath too long. Quite possibly, after gawping at the tow in surfing shenanigans off the West Coast of Ireland in the clip below, you'll come up gasping too.

Al Mennie and Andrew Cotton surfing at 'Aileens' beneath the towering 700ft cliffs of Moher, Ireland.

Several months ago, I interviewed Al Mennie for this blog and, with my penchant for glib word play, had to resist the temptation to describe him as a "turbo charger". To say that he attacks a wave is a bit like describing the landings at Iwo Jima as a day at the beach. His mate Mr.Cotton rather rocks too.

As with many athletes near the top of their game, Al's easy-going onshore demeanour belies his feral and focused approach to hunting down bigger and bigger waves. To paraphrase the accompanying sound track from Static-X (and excuse my French), I think he wants to "f***ing break it".

Surfing Sells Everything...

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Thu, 21 Aug 2008 22:26:00 +0000

...including "girdles" from way back in the days when Mad Men ruled and wives mainly cooked. Would those hold in a beer belly? They may be out of fashion but I feel a strange stirring in my Speedos...

Cheap Flip Flops For Beach Bums

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Sun, 17 Aug 2008 22:26:00 +0000

Whilst I favour TEVA's for scrambling over rock pools and KEEN footwear for trails and hikes, the good old flip flop is a firm favourite for this Beach Bum and many other rubber tramps. The story goes that the flip flop (referred to as "thongs" Down Under or "Jandals" in Kiwi-land - a contraction of Japanese sandals) was inspired by the traditional woven soled zōri from Japan.

This simple shoe's popularity has been exploited by the evil REEF empire (I'm obstinately - and probably quite pointlessly - mounting a personal campaign to highlight their shameless sexploitative marketing tactics) who have managed to hoodwink thousands of us into believing that you need to pay over the odds for a shoe. Rip-off REEF, is what I say.

Sure you have to pay for quality, but many of REEF's flip flops have a price point so high that outlets should throw in a sticker marked "sucker" to stamp on your forehead as you exit the shop. And there are top drawer brands for those with cash to spare. The word is Rainbow Sandals are a cool alternative, and though their web site is as homespun as REEF's is slick, I'm impressed by the fact that the founder, Jay "Sparky" Longley, has resisted the temptation to sell the company to REEF. Respect dude - for presumably the REEF'sters have been dangling all sorts of carrots in from of him, quite possibly including the bottoms of the models whose anonymous bums they love to display.

Anyway, seeing as my old flip flops were frayed and fried beyond repair, I thought I'd pop into Bojangles on the main drag in Perranporth for some sole. I came away with the pair pictured above for the princely sum of £4.99 - a bargain, and Beach Bum loves a bargain. They're supplied by Urban Beach - a company just across the border in Devon - so I can claim to be supporting local businesses x2. There's fine flip flops at competitive prices here if you prefer to order on-line.

Mind you, perhaps this clobber should come with a health warning. When Jimmy Buffet sang "I blew out my flip flop, stepped on a pop top; Cut my heel, had to cruise on back home", he was hinting at some of the downsides of open style footwear. Recent scare stories would have you believe that wearing a flip flop should come with a health warning. If they don't give you ankle sprain and fallen arches, then you'll get skin cancer or, like the claims of this person - a nasty rash. To hell with it, I'll keep wearing them - a style choice you won't catch me flip flopping on.

Bitchy Beach Volleyball in Beijing

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 23:06:00 +0000

Andrezza "Rtvelo" Martins signals* to her partner at a recent event

They've been busing in Chinese spectators to fill out the stands at many of the Olympic events that remain - worryingly for the sponsors - spectator free. As expected, drawing a crowd for the ladies Beach Volleyball match between Andrezza "Rtvelo" Martins & Cristine "Saka" Santanna of Georgia with Natalia Uryadova and Alexandra Shiryaeva from Russia was a cinch - for all the right and wrong reasons.

The games have a long history of throwing up matches with competitors facing off from countries at each other's throats (think Russia and Hungary's tussle in the pool at the Water Polo semi-final in 1956) so perhaps it was a surprise to see the girls step under the net and hug each other before play began.

The twist here is that Martins and Santanna (the names are a bit of a giveaway) were both born and bred in Brazil and ~~encouraged~~ paid to take up Georgian citizenship to advance the sport's cause there a couple of years ago. Well, England has a cricket captain who's South African and when it comes to sport, some competitors will swap their passport faster than David Blaine can slip a card up his sleeve, if it means more opportunity to shine in the spotlight.

The good natured start soured shortly after the Russians lost, sulking to reporters that they hadn't lost to Georgia but Brazil. Further comments suggesting that their opponents would struggle to name the President of their adopted nation appeared to rankle Santanna and Martins who have adopted Georgian names for their team. Santanna is "Saka" and Martins is "Rtvelo". Together Saka Rtvelo are the Georgian words for, you guessed it, Brazil. I'm kidding, I meant Georgia.

* Does my bum look big in this?

I Caught Crabs...

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 23:17:00 +0000

...at Walberswick. But relax - as you will have gathered, I'm not talking about Phthirus pubis (which, coincidentally, Sea Nymph has to treat in her professional capacity), I'm referring to Carcinus maenas or other variants of the common shore crab.

With all the hoo-ha surrounding the Olympic Games, I feel beholden to fly the flag for what must be considered one of the more important sporting events that is taking place closer to home. Last weekend saw the British Open Crabbing Championships take place at Walberswick in Suffolk and frankly, I would have entered just to get the T Shirt.

Unfortunately, circumstances (builders demanding sanitary ware specifications - don't go there please!) dictated that Team Bum had to cry off this event and other beach related activities we had scheduled.

Hunting for crabs along the shoreline has been, and remains, a particular pleasure for me ever since I can remember. And crab meat is up there with caviar as far as I'm concerned. As a child at Sand End, a strip of beach near Ballywalter on the Ards peninsula, my cousins and I would gather buckets of red and green crabs for gladiatorial style contests in sand-walled approximations of arenas. Their claws held out defiantly, shells scuttled and crackled, wrestling on the strand, as we pitted red versus green. Of course, these days, I just take pleasure in whittling out a specimen, screened by seaweed, from beneath a barnacled retreat, and then returning it from whence it came.

I mark it as a singularly important parenting achievements then, that my Nippers 1 to 3 are as happy to spend hours crabbing as they would be plugged into a games console ( if left to their own wicked ways). Nipper 1 was particularly dismissive of the catch pictured above and demanded that his recent trophy was displayed for all to see. Not bad, but you have much to learn young master.

New REEF Web Site - Same Old Asses

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 23:09:00 +0000

I'm sure this image of Esther Baxter will be offensive to a few sensitive souls, irritating for some and pin-up poster material for others. No prizes this time for guessing which category I fall into. Now I've no idea if Esther can surf but she sure can dance. I've seen the video. The effort I put into researching a post - honestly, it's can be so demanding. The thing is, however you perceive the image above, it is recognisably Esther. Possibly it's something to do with being able to see her face.

Well, the other day I was scanning through an email from a surf related feed that I subscribe to. "Big" news in the junior playground of corporate surfdom - REEF have launched a "new"webshite. As regular readers will know, I've had a beef with REEF over their marketing tactics for a while now. (REEF is a subsidiary brand - along with many others like Wrangler, VANS and North Face - of the behemoth that is VF Corporation.) Call it sexploitation or just lazy marketing but selling surf wear, sandals and board shorts off of the backsides of faceless models "grinds my gears", as my bro-in-law likes to say.

Was it naive then to expect that their new website might have moved some way away from total objectification of the female form and perhaps shown the faces of the models whose bottoms have graced their advertising for so many years?

Well, as you can see, when you're signed up by one of the world's largest clothing manufacturers as a "REEF girl "you can call yourself Lila, Janie or Alice but you could be a transsexual with a todger - as long as that ass looks good, you will sell - and be sold.

Spot The Aussie Bum

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 22:49:00 +0000

No need to go into the demographics of their customer base here but as aficionados of close fitting male undergarments will know, "AussieBum" is a well known brand of Australian swim wear.

For a while, the company in question sponsored our surfboat team. As any "boatie" will confirm, there's really no substitute for a wedgie to give that extra grip on a slippery seat as you power out through the surf.

Here, the crew from Perran's own team line up for a bout of rigorous buttock flexing. These men can crack a nut between those cheeks without flinching. Moreover, one of them actually is an Aussie bum. A pair of Speedos on the way to the lucky reader who spots the derriere from Down Under.

Ladies Team will be posing next week. There is method in my madness...muhahaha!

Beach Bum's Shack...

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 22:06:00 +0000

... is undergoing renovation. At the moment, it looks a little bit like the pic above - and that's after some serious Feng Shui and a whole lot of creative Hoovering (technically, it's a Dyson). There's a caravan in the drive, and a neighbour's cooker involved. I'm getting bored with my brother-in-law who keeps phoning me up and asking me if I'd tarmac their drive (politically incorrect "travelling person" joke).

I point this out by way of an answer for the legions who have emailed me concerned about the hiatus in posting. I'm sorry - but if you've ever had "the builders in", you will understand.

Normal service will be resumed as soon as I can move my PC from the bedroom back to another part of the shack that isn't being rearranged like a cheap set in a twister. Sea Nymph doesn't approve of the hum and the tapping and as most of this tumbles out of an evening, my keyboard action has been seriously curtailed. She's reading "An Angel At My Table". It's about a schizophrenic Kiwi, who wasn't - but just missed out on a lobotomy when her poetry was recognised for what it was. Like I said before, "art will out". "Switch off the feckin PC", I've just been told. I just have to get that shot of our boaties and their wedgies up soon. It'll have to wait.

Paddle Surfing Is Hot!

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 08:49:00 +0000

Despite what Laird Hamilton says, combining a surf board with a paddle strikes me as the sporting equivalent of an evolutionary dead end. I'm sure I can be convinced otherwise but this bloke isn't going to be the one who turns it around for me.

As news circles the globe about the Kilauea volcano going red-eyed and spewing lava like a glutton in a vomitarium, one man and his paddle board gets close in to see the action for himself. Looking like he's set on offering himself up to the Fire Gods, the expression "stoked" takes on a whole new meaning. Apparently his wax melted and he burnt his toes. Duh. That's pro-surfer (I rest my case) C.J Kanuha - pictured below with some mates. He's the one with the eye patch and the crazed look. No matter, he is, as they say,"the man".

A Beach Boy And Some Ukuleles

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Sun, 06 Jul 2008 23:05:00 +0000

“I don’t know why everybody doesn’t live at the beach, on the ocean. It makes no sense to me, hanging around the dirty city. That’s why I always loved and was proud to be a Beach Boy; I always loved the image. On the beach you can live in bliss.”

Dennis Wilson's sentiment adds some weight to the views of those who argue that he was the only Beach Boy who really was a Beach Boy - more so than the old chestnut that, unlike the rest of the band, he could actually surf.

I've been letting the magnificent 2 CD Pacific Ocean Blue "Legacy Edition" wash over me like the waves I'm missing, and I'm finding it an altogether marvelous experience. Dennis, where have you been all my life?

Mention the ukulele to a certain generation here in GB, and two words will shortly follow: George Formby. To accuse an entire nation of having no musical taste would be harsh but I still struggle to comprehend why George was such an immensely popular performer in England. It was WWII and I suppose anything sounds better than air raid siren's wail.

"Whatever", as my Nippers are fond of exclaiming, but Mr. Formby was responsible for me ranking the ukulele alongside the kazoo as an instrument of torture. Now two more words: Jake Shimabukuro - and if you compare and contrast these clips of Jake (below) & George (here) - you'll see why I'm a late convert to the Hawaiian "jumping flea" or "gift that came here", depending on what story you believe that most accurately translates the Hawaiian name for this variation of a Portuguese instrument that was brought to the Islands in the nineteenth century.

So the Gods of music are getting their revenge - the ukulele is coming at me from all angles. Now that I've removed the tinfoil from around my head, I'm receiving ukulele vibrations from the ether on a regular basis. With the fanaticism of a convert, I've an order in already for the Ukulele Orchestra of GB's CD that I heard snatches off on the wireless last week. After slagging off George Formby, their version of his "Leaning On A Lamppost" in the style of the Red Army Choir is irresistible.

And just today, I had a fine smorgasbord (there's a word you don't hear very often) of a lunch at a mate's house where he whipped out a recently purchased ukulele and treated us to an impromptu rendition of "I'll See You In My Dreams" that, I've subsequently discovered, Joe Brown played to wrap up the Concert For George (Harrison not Formby).

George, like Dennis, was a member of another legendary band who was overshadowed and underestimated by the rest of his buddies and the public for a time. In the end art will out and we are always richer for it.

You Know It's Summer In Cornwall When...

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Sat, 05 Jul 2008 22:16:00 +0000

This kind of story makes the headlines (again) ...

... and I spotted a sign something like this at the Boxheater junction...

...and the weather forecast looks like this.

Beach Bum Hamstrung

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 23:04:00 +0000

"I'm not best amused" was an odd, archaic phrase a friend used from time to time. It rather fits the bill. I've been drinking Jamesons and doing some Jackson Pollack to stop my mind from wandering where it will go. My Summer is stuffed.

Obama Will Surf To Victory!

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Sun, 29 Jun 2008 22:51:00 +0000

Of course it doesn't really matter who wins as everyone knows that America is run by the folks in the military-industrial complex with the pointy white hats. Just ask Noam Chomsky who's been quoted as saying that "if the Nuremberg laws were applied today, then every postwar American president would have to be hanged."

It matters even less here on the USAF base we call Airstrip 1 but we can take comfort in the fact that the hottest contender for Big Chief White House honcho used to live in Hawaii and therefore, according to the insiders at Surfer Magazine, "has spent some time on a surfboard".

I bet he plays the ukulele too.

The Book Of Surfing

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Wed, 25 Jun 2008 22:44:00 +0000

People send me products in the post from time to time. This is really very kind of them. They are, of course, hoping I will say sweet things about their book, DVD, T-shirt, perfume or JCB. I believe the technical term for this is "endorsement". Or maybe it's "viral marketing". However you want to analyse this curious symbiosis, I like to think I remain objective about the stuff that comes my way. So I'm always happy to plug Snugg because their wetsuits are simply great and equally content to snigger at daft designs like Realwiings.

However, I must confess that a parcel in the post has me pleasure pumping endorphins in the limbic brain that must hark back to hunter-gatherer ancestry. I was, and remain, an inveterate scrounger. As a child, I would make covert raids to scavenge through the neighbours' bins - particularly those belonging to families with similarly aged children. Many's a time I'd come home with Hoovered victims - dusty bricks of LEGO or perhaps a headless Action Man that had been subjected to some hybrid Celtic-voodoo ritual. Therapy didn't help, by the way. Show me a skip and I have to be restrained from climbing in. Beachcombing I consider a vocation.

Anyway, I got an email from someone suggesting that my readers might be interested in a book on surf culture. From the peoploids behind the conspiratorially titled "The September Project" and Stranger Magazine (always a good read but recently a stranger from the shop shelves), comes "The Book Of Surfing".

From the pics they sent it looks like a good read but the skinflints want me to blurb about it and they haven't sent me a copy to review! Don't they know that there's no such thing as a free lunch? I was hoping they could call it the "Big Book Of Surfing" and there'd be pop up pop out surfboards for me to colour in. Or a "spot the difference" page with duplicate shots of trendy board shorts subtly altered with prizes for finding all the tweaks and missing floral prints. Perhaps it's all in there, but I may never know. PS: No-one has sent me a JCB - yet - but as I'm currently living on a building site, one would come in handy.

Rock Rescue At The Bat Cave

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 23:06:00 +0000

If that title reads like an episode from Batman - that's just the power of word association. Come to think of it, there is a Robin involved ... Holy Inflatable Rescue Boats!

It took me a while to smuggle this one out of the locker room. One very fortunate surfer, four very professional Lifeguards.

Style & Substance From Mr.B - Surf Film Premiere

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 14:19:00 +0000

It's a few weeks away but here's a diary date worth scrawling down for those of you who'll be in the vicinity of Newquay - specifically Buzio's Bar - on Sunday the 6th July. There's free entry for the Premiere of "Substance", the latest surf flick from Mr. B Productions & Wavelength Magazine.

If you enjoyed Driven, my guess is that "Substance" will push all the right buttons for you. Expect crowds (the movie rolls around 10.30pm but you'll need to get there earlier), expect alcohol aplenty and - as Mr. B assures me, expect perfect waves, epic sessions and the likes of Oli Adams, Alan Stokes, Micah Lester and friends ripping, shredding and performing similarly thrusting manoeuvres (?) - all showcasing the wondrous waves to be found around the coast of Britain & Ireland. (Presumably the ones that Andy Martin struggles to find.)

Perranporth Rebel Angels Delight

noreply@blogger.com (Beach Bum) — Sun, 08 Jun 2008 22:28:00 +0000

News in from our Ladies Surfboat Captain who penned this report for the sports section in our local paper...

Perranporth’s Rebel Angels put in a heavenly performance at the opening round of the United Kingdom Surf Rowers League (UKSRL) Summer Series held at Porthcawl in South Wales on 31 May. Perranporth’s Fallen Angels, despite half of the crew rowing their first race, managed to pick up some valuable points too.

The small surf conditions – waves in the 1-2ft range – put a premium on rowing technique and fitness. Two wins in the opening three rounds and a bonus point for coming home first in the final heat contested by the top six crews showed a rigorous training programme for the Angels over the winter had paid off.

“It’s promising but there’s a long way to go,” cautioned Shelley Holland the Ladies boat captain. “Bude deservedly won the European title last year and they pushed us hard. We had a tough battle against Portreath as well. This season is not going to be easy!”

In the Men’s event, last year’s UK and European champions - Porthtowan Blue Bali - continued their recent dominant form, winning all four of their races. The minor places were much more hotly contested, the final heat treating spectators to five boats all surfing to shore on the same wave.

The next event is at Saunton Sands on 21 June but there's a full listing of events at the UKSRL website.