Gumby Does Maliko

Maliko Gulch in the early morning is a strange place. Rainwater rushes through the creek from rainstorms up the mountain. The gulch smells of horseshit and squashed green things (there’s a ranch up the gulch). As I parked next to the muddy road in some tall grass I could see a swarm of mosquitoes lifting from the damp ground.  I either disturbed them or they smelled blood. Neither alternative was good.

At the ocean end of the gulch I could see big swells pounding on the rocks at the entrance, but there was no wind and no whitecaps. I was in the gulch to do the Maui Canoe and Kayak Club’s Maliko Gultch race, sponsored by Koho’s restaurant. Looked like it was going to be a long morning.

Kiwi (Mark Jackson) was already there, taking pictures and helping other SUP paddlers with their boards. There were lots of canoes, though not in the kind of numbers that turn up for south shore races, and i didn’t see any surfskis. I went up to register and the lady asked me if I’d done Malko runs before. “I went twice last week” was my reply, leaving out fact that those two were my ONLY Maliko runs. Trusting soul, she accepted my entry and they wrote my number on my arm. Not really so the scorers could see it, but so I could remember it.

The plan was to ride Gumby, my new old downwinder board I’d bought from Bill Foote. The night before I tarted it up with some pad extensions made from scrap, and a freshly painted mascot on the nose–Gumby, in big trouble, sketched using Posca pens.

Gumby, in deep doo-doo. A little reminder to help me stay outside of Spartan’s Reef

A little closer shot. I missed a line on the inside of the right leg. Oh, well.

So I felt completely prepared. The conditions looked suitable for a novice like me, not the “victory at sea” stuff I’d endured in my first run. Gumby is a stable and easy board, I’d been practicing in rough water, and I had a new camelback. What could possibly go wrong. Why, oh why did I say that.

Setting up a SUP board to race consists of attaching a leash, taking it off the car and carrying it close to the entry point. So I had some time to kill. I walked around the gultch talking to people. Ekolu Kalama was there. I’ve met him and his delightful wife two times–at the Starboard dealer meeting in Netarts, Oregon, and at the Battle of the Paddle. He’s a talented and engaging guy–fine guitar player and singer, super waterman, and just to piss everyone off he’s also clearly very bright though he seems to work a bit at hiding that.

I found Randy Royce, Slater and Casey Trout, and Mark Raaphorst in the registration line and caught up with them. Then suddenly it was time to get in the water. We were taking off 30 minutes before the canoes started. I hopped onto Gumby and paddled out with great confidence, until the rollers converging from at least three different directions knocked me off Gumby right next to the entrance rocks. I knee paddled out, expecting the conditions to be far better on the outside. Instead they got bigger, if not quite as confused. Hmmm, I wasn’t expecting this.

Setting up the gear

The victims arrive

No wind! Ugh.

these beautiful twin girls were helping Dad handle his money in the registration line. They’ll be doing a lot more of that in later years.

Canoes set to go

At the horn everyone shot off, with Mark Raaphorst displaying immediate speed on the 18 foot experimental board he was riding. I displayed immediate clumsiness, falling uncerimoniously ten seconds into the race. I then proceeded to fall at least 15 times in short order, until one of the jet skis came by to see if I was OK. “I’m fine, I just need to get my sea legs. I don’t know what’s wrong, I’ve been out in rougher water than this” I said. The jet skier looked dubious, but left me to flounder. Ten more falls and an escort Zodiac pulled up. I repeated my story and she said “OK, but if you can’t get it together in the next five minutes we’ll have to pull you out, we have canoes starting”.

That message somehow got through to the little beast that was screaming somewhere inside my head, and I got up and paddled off. Miraculously not falling until I was out of sight, which isn’t that far when the rollers are overhead. The times between falls extended, until I was actually making some ground. I could see most of the SUP paddlers ahead, and I thought I was catching up to the last of them. He was outside even further than I was, which is remarkable given my dread of being caught inside by a rogue wave. I have to get over that. A few close calls and now I’m phobic about it.

Lonely way out here in last place. Diane shot this from the Ho’okipa lookout. I was already further out than the serious racers

The canoes start 30 minutes later–they’ve almost caught me–it was a rocky start for me.

I slogged on, aiming doggedly for the right corner of Io Valley, off on the horizon. I was trying hard to catch some runners in the wind swell that was going my way, but having very little luck. It became clear to me why people don’t like doing Maliko runs when there’s no wind–the swells and rough water are still there, you just have to plow through them under your own power. Long morning indeed.

I passed Spartan’s reef so far out that I didn’t realize it was behind me. Outer Kahana was a little white line instead of the pounding break that I knew these big swells were tossing up. I was too far out, way too far out. In fact at the end of the race my GPS reported I’d gone 10.0 miles, half a mile further than the course, and I had forgotten to start my GPS until a few minutes after the race started. Just what i needed, a little extra distance.

I caught very few runners, as the GPS trace shows, and those that i caught didn’t last long. No resting on this race. You can also see every fall, except in the beggining when they came so fast and furious that they blend into a big immobile blotch.

By the time I passed kite beach I knew I wasn’t going to have any trouble being out far enough for the harbor mouth. The end of the jetty can be a bit hard to see, and hard to paddle out to if you’re too far inside. I drew a straight line for the end of the breakwall, and still wound up 300 yards outside when I reached the mouth. The only benefit I can see for the “chicken line”. I caught one of the few good runners I’d had all day and got a free ride into the harbor. What a relief.

The jetskier that had checked on me at the beginning of the race whooped me into the harbor: “You made it buddy! Go straight in, don’t do the buoys”. As if i needed him to tell me that. I didn’t care about the official course at that point. I wanted a beer. I straightlined for the beach.

Mark Raaphorst makes the channel entrance solidly in first place. Now you know why Mark’s boards fly.

the first canoe heads for the line. A little bit of muscle on that guy.

First surfski

Mark, finishing

Ekolu Kalama finishes second

Slater Trout digging for the finish with Randy Royce close behind

Slater catches a runner to the beach

Finally, Tail End Charlie makes the harbor

Hey, somebody’s got to be last

Where the hell is the beer

I did a lot of falling, especially at the start

the chicken course–cost me an extra half mile I really didn’t need

The relatively gentle wind didn’t help, at least there weren’t any big gusts

So run three is under my belt, and my first Maliko race. I’m a competitive guy, and coming in last isn’t my favorite thing, but in this case I was pretty pleased to finish under my own steam. It’s a challenging course, and one that I think I’ll get better at. I think the big secrets are taking a decent line that doesn’t add mileage but still uses the best conditions, and knowing how to ride the runners better. I think Jeremy Riggs is among the best guys at doing that. He wants to do a Maliko race on the Penetrator. I suspect he’ll use it well. Maybe I can get a few pointers from him at the same time.

For those who want to do a Maliko race:

You need some rough water experience. Swells along the North shore come from a variety of directions in the open ocean–generally several at the same time. They intermix and produce a confused surface that you need to see to understand. But any experience paddling in 20+ knot winds and big swells will help. You also need to know the route–that means having someone guide you a few times, and it would be nice if they showed you the racing line. You can do what I did and stay way outside any potential huge breaking waves, but it’s the slow way to the harbor.

Some of the fast guys do the race with no safety gear and no leash. That’s nuts. In a 20 knot wind your board can blow away from you in a heartbeat. Yes, you should always catch the board if you fall, but what if you don’t? I wore a small camelback with an inflatable lifejacket stuffed inside, and I carried my cell phone in a soft waterproof case in my board short pocket.

Maui Canoe and Kayak Club holds races all winter long . My next big challenge will be the Maui to Molokai channel crossing. Might have to wait until next year though. I need a lot more time in Maliko. Here’s a gallery of pictures from the race. Special thanks to my wife Diane for shooting the pictures and for being so happy to see me at the finish.

Cool Runnin’

I did a south side downwinder this morning, from near the canoe beach (Suda’s store) to the Four Season’s beach on Bill Foote’s “Gumby” board. What a wild and weird ride that is. The board is moderately fast paddling it–probably similar to a Starboard 12′6″ for glide. But get some swells and it’s suddenly transformed. I was just doing this run to condition myself for the Malko race tomorrow, but it turned into a sprint with heavy winds blowing somewhat offshore. In fact i screwed up and got a little far out and was kind of headed off to Japan. But I realized it soon enough and didn’t have to battle headwinds, just drew a bead on the Kehei boat launch and with typical cross-wind griping I hit the bay in front of the four seasons–two miles further down the coast.

Give the off angle I had to take to the wind, the times were fairly good. You can see very clearly in the GPS graph–fell three times, caught a zillion short runners. This board won’t catch a runner and stay planted in it easily, as the Penetrator does. Instead it catches four short runs in the same period. the result is not quite as fast, but pretty close.It’s a blast, like surfing for six miles. As you can see in some of the runs I reached eight MPH, in many over six MPH. I averaged 4.7 MPH, which feels pretty good for this board. I think I can go a lot faster with a little more swell. I guess we’ll see tomorrow. Of course I have to stay on the board to be reasonably fast. that and stay out of the reefs.

I think this shows off the difference in a planing vs displacement hull in a primitive and inconclusive way. I hope we’ll be able to be a little more conclusive in the showcase, which is coming up fast.

New–Photo Galleries

I collect a tremendous number of photographs putting Ke Nalu together–some myself, some by Diane, and some from other folks, including professional photographers like Darrell Wong. Darrell recently sent me two DVD’s full of photographs, marvelous stuff. I had no idea how i was going to use even a significant portion of them, and to use them effectively I need to put them on my web server anyway, so I decided to make some galleries and toss everything into it. And then give you useful access to it.

At the same time that I’m setting this up, I invite any photographers–pro or amateur, to send me shots they like but don’t have commercial use for. In this set for example there’s the full set of shots that Mark Raaphorst just commissioned from Darrel of the SIC board line taken from a helicopter. Mark gave me permission to use any and all of the photos on Ke Nalu. There’s some wonderful stuff in this series.

Here’s the rest of the pictures that Darrell Wong sent me.

Over the next few weeks I’ll be building out the gallery to include about any good SUP shots I have. Enjoy.

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Oooo Pretty.

I stopped by Mark Raaphorst’s (SIC aka Ding King) shop a few days ago as they were puting finishing touches on a new custom F16. My, my. Billy wants one.

Amazing Animation

I’m an F1 nut, most race car drivers are. But you don’t have to even like racing to find this video animation fascinating. Wild stuff, and a great explanation of the factors that will make F1 more interesting this year. And last year was really magnificent.

Maliko Do-Over

What a difference a day makes. Today’s Maliko run was much like yesterday’s, the wind was a little lighter, and the swells were head high instead of overhead. And I was on a different board, Bill Foote’s purpose-built Maliko board.

I’ve gotta tell you, pretty it ain’t. Bill calls this particular board “Gumby” because the color and the vague shape is kind of Gumby-like. It doesn’t look like a race board at all, I bet it’s pretty slow in flat water. Bill even said “don’t try to run any other race with this thing, it’s just for Malko”. But on the Malko Gulch run, it’s a magic carpet. I don’t really understand how a surfboard shaper/designer like Bill Foote can look at a unique performance challenge like Maliko and say “the board has to look like this” especially when it doesn’t look like anyone else’s idea of what it takes to have fun in that maelstrom. but it works like gangbusters.

Here’s Gumby:

the wind was not as brutal as yesterday, but close. When we left the gulch around 12:30 it was gusting above 30 with 20kts average. The larger swells were head high, and seemed smoother than yesterdays. There was quite a bit of cross chop, but the Foote board didn’t seem affected by it, or maybe I’m just starting to get my Maliko Legs.

Randy, Randy, Chan, Tracy, Jack and Jeremy took off pretty quickly while I was still trying to get the board settled down. It was like surfing in a washing machine, but I immediately started getting some runs on the swells, and once the board was moving it felt very stable. I paddled for about half an hour without falling, saw Chan and Tracy way on the inside near Ho’okipa more or less parallel to me. I thought “I’m moving along pretty well” and immediately fell. That fall was followed by roughly eighteen more in rapid succession, and shortly Chan, Tracy and the rest of the crew disappeared over the horizon.

Alone, on an angry sea. I can’t see a tremendous number of people wanting to do this. The conditions are a little intimidating, and when you look towards the shore you see nothing but huge waves pounding on reefs. Not a lot of good places to bail out. But when you get your board settled out, calm your body some and relax, then catch a swell that gives you a fifty yard ride it’s pretty exciting.

After my spate of falls I calmed down and got a rythym again. Caught a lot of nice runs, settle down and continued paddling. Then I noticed that I had drifted inwards quite a ways catching runners and was headed straight for the big breaking wave west of Paia. I think it’s called Spartans, but I’m not sure. What I do know is that it looked really big and was breaking with an explosive thump and then rolling and rolling and rolling. I turned the board out to sea and started paddling hard as the wind and current pushed me towards the reef. At one point I though I might be better off heading towards the beach and passing on the inside of the reef, but then a doubled up wave crested about a hundred yards in front of me and turned the entire area I was considering into boiling nuclear waste. I stroked for the horizon, passed the reef at least fifty yards out, still pumping like a madman, turned back downwind and fell in celebration.

A good part of the run then passed without drama, all the way down to about Kanaha/Camp One, where I once again found myself too far in. The outer breaks at upper Kanaha can be very big, and very unpredictable. I’ve driven all over them on a windsurfer, but it’s very different when you can’t run away from a wave that suddenly pops double overhead. I took the chicken route and again detoured towards the horizon. I passed Kanaha without falling once, got down to the end of kite beach without incident, then caught a very big runner that seemed to go on forever. after that ride I caught it’s brother, and then it’s little cousin. And once again found myself pretty far in. I looked at the Harbor breakwall and realized that I was going to have to slog out hard to make the corner. I didn’t want to try paddling along the breakwall with wind piling directly onto it and swells smashing directly onto it. So I picked a point north of Waiehu and paddled hard for it. When I reached the harbor mouth I was 50 yards past it, I’m glad I wised up when I did. 50 yards in the other direction might have resulted in a long afternoon slog upwind to try to clear the breakwall.

I turned into the smooth water in the lee of the breakwall with a feeling of deep relief, but also a new confidence. I can do this. I might be slow, but I’ll get faster. I might fall a lot, but I’ll get better.

I can do this.

Do Your Own Run
Now that I’ve done Maliko twice, I’m an expert and can tell you all about it. Actually, like everything in Ke Nalu, the useful informatiion comes from talking to experts. Here’s a few things to consider:

1. Go with people who have done this a lot. But realize you won’t be seeing them often. It’s pretty much impossible to hold someone’s hand for a run. Your guide would have to sit and wait for you every ten minutes. No fun for them.

2. Stay outside. My nightmare is getting caught inside on one of the many outer reef breaks. They can pop up suddenly and when they do the waves are not friendly. Have someone show you the route. Watch ahead very closely for breaking waves. If you see something that looks nasty in front of you, head for the horizon.

3. Saftey gear. A stout leash in good condition, an inflatable PFD, a cell phone in a waterproof case. All good ideas. Some people do Maliko in a pair of boardshorts with no leash. I think they are whacked. If your board gets away in 30 knot wind the chances of seeing it again are very slim. Half a mile is a long way to swim in heavy swells. Even if you can do it, you probably don’t want to.

4. If you plan to go in the harbor, have someone guide you for that last mile. It’s tricky.

This is not a run for newbies, or the timid. Doesn’t mean you need to be a big strong guy. Chan and Tracy together might equal my body mass, and they are VERY good at Maliko. They got to the harbor at least thirty minutes before I did, probably more.

I’ll be doing this a lot more. It’s a unique thing and it’s extremely rewarding. If you are considering a board expressly to do Maliko or a high wind, high swell run like it you should talk to Bill Foote. His board really is magic. I’m buying Gumby from him.

Tough day in Maliko

The Maliko Downwind run is justifiably world famous–a challenging blast down an unforgiving coast in big wind and big swells. I’ve done my own lame version many times–I get to Kanaha beach park early in the morning, find no surf and decide to do an upwind/downwind. Paddle up the coast as far and fast as I can until the wind comes up and I can’t make headway, then turn out and ride the wind and swells back. the reason this is lame is that the wind, almost by definition, is just starting to get going when I turn and run downwind, and the wind swell hasn’t had time and fetch to build up.

When the folks that do serious downwinders go out they wait for the wind to peak and the swells to form. Today that meant 30+ knot gusts and 15+ foot swells. The kind of conditions that the Victory At Sea folks would have rejected as a little too dramatic. So this was actually my first official Maliko Downwinder, the first time I went all the way to the harbor, and the first time out in those conditions on the Penetrator 572.

Does this sound like a story with a happy ending?

I was with Randy Strone (?spelling?) who runs the Standup Zone, his wife Chantelle, Tracy Dudley who is also known as NoWorriesHawaii on the Zone, and the other Randy (whose last name I know but some pernicious mental block robs me of. He’s BoltUpright on the Zone). We paddled out of Maliko and turned left, and my troubles began. I simply couldn’t stand up on the Penetrator. I’d get to my feet in the howling wind and chop, give a couple of paddle strokes, be grabbed from behind by a head high swell, and the board would turn right and ditch me. I tried running back to the tail, dragging my paddle on one side or the other, staying in the middle and using the rudder. No help. I concluded it was simply my limited talent and settled down to paddle to the harbor 9.5 miles away on my knees. No big deal, the wind was shoving me along smartly and the board was catching swell after swell and running nicely.

After a while in the spindrift and monster swells I spotted the two Randy’s waiting for me. I paddled up and told them I was fine but couldn’t stand. We agreed to press on and I settled in to paddle. After a substantially longer interval I came upon them again waiting for me, and Randy suggested I try his F16 and he’d paddle the Penetrator. He headed off, wobbling a bit but being successful in the swells. I continued to struggle, but found I could stand for brief periods on the F16 and catch a few swells, but my progress was limited and I resorted once again to knee paddling.

A few miles later I found the Randys waiting for me again, we switched back but I found the Penetrator harder to handle than before. I finally reached the harbor and paddled in to the shore, finding the board hard to stand on even in the relatively flat water. Turns out the rudder was cocked a bit, and I had to paddle hard against it to make any headway. When I finally reached the beach i was surprised to find a big wrinkle in the bottom of the board, and a crack that water ran out of when I lifted the board from the water.

Turns out that when Randy2 (BoltUpright) was riding it he got inside a bit and was caught by a double-overhead breaking wave. My biggest nightmare on this run. He dove into the base of the wave, but the wave caught the board and pulled VERY hard on his leg, enough to completely straighten the coiled leash. We theorize that the board flipped and the wave broke on it, flexing the board against its carbon fiber frame. In fact the frame is probably what saved the board from being broken in half.

Randy is a very standup guy (pun intended) and both apologized profusely and offered to pay for repairs numerous times, but I won’t hear of that. He was quite happy using his own board and only tried the Penetrator because I wanted to see if the problem was the board or me. My responsibility. I also believe firmly that when we set foot into the open ocean, just as when I roll my racecar onto a track, that we assume all the risks to ourselves and our equipment. It’s simply too unforgiving and capricious an environment to hold anyone else responsible.

Anyway, it’s at Mark Raaphorst’s place getting fixed. The carbon fiber construction maintained the integrity of the board. But I think it’s clear that while this board is amazingly fast on the south side, even in strong wind and moderate swells, that it’s beyond my talents to control it in large swell on the North Side.

The F16 Randy was riding

This isn’t a black mark against the Penetrator. It’s horses for courses. Most people assumed it wouldn’t do well on a Maliko run, but I had to see for myself. There probably aren’t many places on the planet that toss up a run with such specific requirements. I think the efficient displacement hull was working against it. the board would catch a swell extremely quickly, but when it reached hull speed and started to transition to a plane, it became less stable. If I were better at paddling the Penetrator, and more experienced with a full-blown Maliko run, things would have been different. As it is, it’s just one more chapter in experiencing this great sport.

Why I Love Madmen

This pretty much sums it up

Sam’s Magic Handle

Sam Pa’e is a SUP surfer, board builder, all-around waterman and extremely creative guy who lives on Oahu. I’ve yet to have the pleasure of meeting him, but he’s a frequent poster on the Standup Zone. Some time ago he started a thread on the Zone about placing a handle on the tail of a SUP board to manage the board better in whitewater. At that time I was experimenting with a strap on the back of the board that I could grab for the same purpose. I posted a response talking about the strap, which irritated Sam a little–he asked me to start my own thread if I wanted to talk about straps–he wanted to talk about handles.

I complied but I didn’t really understand his irritation. Strap, handle–what’s the difference. I SHOULD have asked, I should have realized Sam is far more experienced than I and he probably had a good reason. Then recently I grabbed my strap during a fairly heavy thrashing and did this to my fingers. I’m lucky I didn’t rip one off like that poor bugger in southern California did. But it’s been at least three weeks , my fingers still look like gecko pads (shot the photo today–you should have seen them a couple of weeks ago), and I can’t close my hand.

Gecko pads

No, I don’t just have fat fingers, here’s the other hand.

Hmm, I need to cut my nails. Anyway, when I finished whining about my fingers I decided to try Sam’s approach.

Revelation! Now I know why he was so intent on the handle thing.

So okay, I don’t want to oversell this, but I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever done to my boards.

Your Mileage May Vary
Here’s all the caveats. If you don’t belong in medium large surf you can, and probably will, get hurt or drown. There’s no such thing as a foolproof safety device. Good, and even great surfers get hurt or killed in big surf, and the very thing you are depending on to help you can wind up hurting you and worsening the condition. Your mileage may vary. If you get killed doing this don’t come whining to me. Here, sign this waiver before you continue reading. Sorry, I’ve been watching Boston Legal on DVD and I have visions of someone showing up in court with William Shatner in tow.

All that said, I’ve never felt so safe in big (to me) surf. Sam’s handle is magic, or pretty damned close to it. Between that and the breatholding exercises I’ve been doing, being hammered by double overhead whitewater is slightly disconcerting, instead of the terrifying, lung popping experience it previously was.

When you get caught inside or are looking at a wall of whitewater after a fall you turn the board away from you toward shore, grab the handle by curling your fingers over from the front, put the other hand under the rail and flip the board upside down. Take a couple of deep rolling breaths from your diaphragm (see BREATHING below) and pull down on the handle as the wave creams you. In most cases, unless the wave is extremely powerful, the board will gently lift you like an elevator to the top of the whitewater, and that’s it. The first few times I used it I laughed out loud.

I have since fallen in front of an overhead wave, made a wild stab at the handle with no setup, and had the exact same thing happen. The wave flipped the board, the handle pulled on me gently while the lip pounded on my head, then I popped up in the back of the wave, more or less unscathed.

I have had the handle get ripped out from my fingers when the wave is really big, but even then the wave was mostly past, the board didn’t drag me, and I just relaxed and floated to the surface with plenty of breath to spare. I’m grabbing the handle with my injured fingers, and it hasn’t harmed them a bit.

I have no idea if this works in monster waves, though I know Sam plays in that kind of territory. I’m slowly working my way up. I’m not relying on this handle to keep me safe. I’m taking my time and learning as I go, but it gives me a lot of confidence, and serves the very important purpose of not letting my board run loose and endanger someone else. Here’s my installation on the Bill Foote gecko board.

The handle is a DaKine heelstrap made for kiteboards. It has elastic in the handle to give it some give, which is very welcome. It also is canted, which makes it easy to grab the right way (fingers curling over the front of the strap) and harder to grab the wrong way.

If you grab the the board with your fingers passing through the strap your hand could be trapped as the board pulls upward.

Breathing For A Hold Down
I’ll cover this in more detail in a future article, but let’s talk a bit about holding your breath. The usual reacion to seeing a big wave bearing down in you is to take rapid breaths. These do little more than move air up and down your throat–you get very little fresh oxygen into your lungs. Instead you should breathe deeply, pushing your diaphragm by pushing your stomach outwards BEFORE you expand your chest. Breathing like this will fill your lungs more effectively and enable you to increase your breath holding time by at least 50%. Practice this sitting on a couch with someone keeping an eye on you, not face down in a pool by yourself. You’ll be surprised at how much difference this simple change in breathing can make.

Stuey’s Story–The Penetrator

Stuey Campbell designed and built the Penetrator racing boards, a substantial departure from the design philosophy most racing board builders have been taking. I asked him to tell me a bit about his background and why he built the board the way it is. Here’s the story in Stuey’s own words:

Where do I start? I sit here with a skin full (that’s what we say here In OZ) of Dark n’ Stormys’ a potent brew of Queenslands finest dark rum subtly blended with our best ginger beer. It’s a mighty fine drop which promotes among other things rational and lucid thinking!

How do I begin the Penetrator story? “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times” been done before? Damn it. “Man first arose from the primordial muck”, too early? Oh well. How about a 7 year old Stuey Campbell, with hair that never quite sat properly asking his Dad one September morning if he let his 12″ long model square rigger go now, if it would beat the fleet in the annual Sydney to Hobart yacht race. “If it gets out into the 2knot southerly set of the East Coast Current, you’d have a fair chance” was his reply as my early craft, built from scraps from the yacht club rubbish bin, blew briskly from the wharf.

“How fast do you reckon she’ll go”? It’d covered the first 50 metres in record time. “Son, her hull speed will be limited to 1.34 times the square root of her waterline length” My young mind grappled with the calculation but I could already see that my small craft was pushing water.

The sophistication of my models marked time with the advancing years but who was gonna let a 10 year old design his yacht? My 11th birthday and all this changed. Sure I loved my 5′3″ Gordon Woods S-deck, it had a really trick yellow and green resin bleed on the bottom but it had a fat, badly repaired round tail. It had to be fixed and maybe I could improve things a little. Out came the grinder, “just turn your head away if you start gettin’ hit” said my Dad as I turned the round into a diamond. Whether my attack improved things is debatable but from that point on I was making my own.

Planshapes, rockers, rails, fins and their interaction with the water became all consuming and school grades slipped in direct correlation to my becoming a straight A student of the ocean. The line outside my shaping room door grew ever longer and I was only 14, there were no mathematical equations or reasons but I seemed to be developing a “feel”. After a short stint at G&S, I was taken on by Terry Fitzgerald at Hot Buttered who was instrumental in developing my “tool use” but all along my design ideas remained my own.

1991 9′7″ triple stringer Hawaiian gun

The ensuing years saw the evolution of the modern shortboard through all it’s twists and turns. More often than not I found myself at odds with conventional “wisdom”, I’d sometimes view the latest innovation and that little voice inside would say NO and it would be discarded immediately. Sometimes I’d just look and that “feel” would just tell me it was all wrong. Sometimes I’d feel like a freak, coz’ I couldn’t even fill out a tax return yet I could just look at something that was supposed to flow through the water and instinctively know it wouldn’t work. All sorts of ocean equipment became second nature whether I rode them or not, shorties, longboards, kneeboards, paddleboards, sailboards you name it.

photo 5- Surfing a swell on a fast 28′ trimaran off Mooloolaba, Queensland

A love of boats and sailing first planted by my Dad had flourished and grown and I’d found myself spending more time on them as the years went on. Small  repairs led to bigger jobs led to building yachts. My brother and I built a 36′ cat, it was way fast and I spent countless hours laying on the forward trampoline, just laying there, watching what those bows did as they sliced through the ocean, watching and thinking. I spent many years drifting between building ultra-fast sailboats, mostly cats and tris and making all manner of surfboards.

The 36′ catamaran that I built 12 years ago with my brother, we covered thousands of miles in this and I learned an awful lot from this boat.

Another shot of “Catscan” on the Noosa River

A little over 2 years ago Woogie Marsh mentioned between paddle building and ding repairs that stand up paddleboarding in Hawaii had morphed into a new direction, distance and downwind. He wanted to get into it, mostly as cross-training for his outrigger work. I was all ears. What were these downwind boards like? How big were they? I could instantly see the potential, I’d been downwinding all my life, ‘cept on yachts, it was the best, most fun you could have sailing and I wanted in! At the time in Australia we had nothing, no one was making them and the biggest available blank was 12′3″. Upon scouring the net all I could find was the early F16s from Hawaii and some Eaton paddleboards from California. I only had limited photos to go by but from what I could see, in my opinion they were attacking it from the wrong direction. That “feel” was talking to me again.

First up, polystyrene and epoxy were the go, anything else would be too heavy. To this end we ordered a massive block of foam. 16′ seemed a good length to start and I hand drew and cut some profile templates for what was to become the first Penetrator. I had a vision in my mind of what I wanted to create but the question remained, will a stand up paddler be able to remain upright without expending too much energy doing so?

1st 18′8″ Penetrator 572 with carbon frame layed up prior to glassing

The first board was built and immediately named the Penetrator, it wasn’t what I wanted and indeed I thought it was a tad ugly but we had to start somewhere. Initial tests proved that stability on this type of craft would not be an issue, freeing me up to progress to stage 2. The next board proved a quantum leap, I pulled in the planshape and rolled the bottom considerably, the improvement being so substantial that board no.1 was renamed the “seaslug”. Stability only decreased fractionally and we were on the right track.

Attaching profile template prior to hotwiring another 572

The idea had always been to design a SUB more along the lines of a racing ski or OC1 and given that these craft as well as the rudderless va’as are the quickest paddle powered craft in the ocean I was somewhat surprised that others weren’t following the same path. Other designers were all engaged in seeking the optimum, more surfboard like, planing hull. I could understand their thinking, I was even skeptical at first as to whether a stand-up paddler could remain upright on the radical board I had envisaged.

photo 4- Bottom of 572, carbon frame, pre-glassing

The thinking I had in mind involved a narrow kayak-like hull that didn’t rely on skimming the surface to attain maximum speed, it wasn’t to be a planning hull at all but what we generally refer to as a semi-displacement hull. It would cut through the water with little disturbance and maximum glide requiring minimal energy to power. Whereas the commonly used planning hull requires a large energy input to perform to it’s optimum (ie. on the plane) which quite simply cannot be done by even the strongest paddler. In fact the only time that the planing SUB will hit it’s peak is when on a runner (riding in a swell), so when not running but operating under paddle power alone, the rider is quite simply dragging an inefficient hull around the ocean. I further reasoned that the superior paddle speed and glide of my design, due to it’s low drag hull, would allow it to not only pick up runs easier and stay on them longer but also pick up runs that it’s slower planning cousin may miss. That was the theory, all that remained was to find out how far I could push the design parameters before stability became an issue.

572 in the bay

If the first of the Penetrators hinted I was headed in the right direction Nos.2 & 3 really drove the point home. These boards were 16′4″x 27 1/2″x6″ and the bottoms were rolled substantially more than the 1st board with little lost in the way of stability although I was still sure I could push it further. I had also increased the depth of the deck concave with the aim of lowering the riders centre of gravity. Shortly after creation both these boards were given a “baptism by fire” as Woogie and Chris De Aboitiz made a valiant attempt to paddle around Fraser, the largest sand island in the world. Even though their circumnavigation was cut short by violent headwinds, the boards proved themselves by handling all conditions thrown at them. It was extremely satisfying to watch from the support craft as the boys nailed 140 miles in the first 3 1/2 days till nature threw in the spanner. Still it well and truly showed what the design was capable of as well as implanting some new ideas and advancements.

Woogie at Fraser Island

After Fraser Is. I made Woogie a new board, another 16′4″ that he was to race in the 16 mile ocean marathon at the Noosa Festival. This time I pulled the width in to 27″ and went all out with the bottom rolling it as far as I dared. I was now happy with the shape as it was real close to what I had originally envisaged. It was light too, glassed with the carbon frame I had been working on which consisted of a central strip of carbon Unis, top and bottom as well as a 6″ wide strip which encased the rails, giving it the perfect amount of flex and longitudinal strength. This was wrapped up with a single plain weave 4oz. bottom and double on the deck although this proved not quite durable enough and we went back to a 6oz. skin. The board flew during the race in unfavourable sidewind conditions and a small lumpy swell with Woogie coming in around 2 miles ahead of 2nd place, the previously unbeaten James “Billy” Watson riding a Vortice XP. The Penetrator 16′ underwent some very minor changes over the following months and Woogie paddled them to another 3 clear victories but I had some new ideas in mind, starting with a significant jump in length.

Woogie bending a paddle

Skimming on flat water

My son Ryans’ fiance Elle paddling a 14′ non-race Penetrator

An order for a big bloke from down south came in and it didn’t take much persuading to sell him on the idea of going 18′+. We had our Guinea Pig and I set to work, at this stage I had a new and undeveloped steering system in mind that I thought would be advantageous, if not essential for a board of this length but the customer was quite happy to go without. The Granddaddy of the fleet, the Penetrator 572 was born and at 18′8″x 26 1/2″x 7″ it required me to draw and cut a whole new set of templates and profiles as an increase of this magnitude rendered the 16′ ones useless, it simply wasn’t possible to stretch them that far.

I also dropped the nose rocker by an inch and pushed it further forward as the 16′4″ hadn’t been making full use of it’s waterline length. The 572 is a massive lump of board though I was pleased to get the weight of the first one down to around 25 pounds (though I knew subsequent models with the steering system would come up on this). Woogie performed a clandestine test-run while the customer remained blissfully unaware in Melbourne before shipping it off to him. The results of this short test proved spectacular with Woogie immediately claiming a huge speed increase, somewhere in the order of 30% over the superseded 16′ model. We’d also used the test run to judge where to place the foot peddle for the steering on Woogies soon to be constructed 572.

Creating the new steering system was a mission in itself as I had to start from scratch and hand-build all the components as well as figure out exactly how I would get it to operate. It’s kind of still a work in progress as I keep improving both it’s mechanics and construction. PonoBills board was only the 2nd one I had made and still houses a bug or two but these are only minor and I’m well on the way to getting them sorted.

Fine tuning the bottom of a new 572

Penetrator 572 with partial c-frame and steering gear installed

Another development on the new 572 was the addition of two channels on the deck which start at the back of the concave and run off the tail, the purpose being to help expel any water that may be trapped in the concave, some of this water is also removed through drains in both the steering peddle well and carry handle which run aft and exit through the bottom of the craft.

One other feature of the Penetrators which differs dramatically from the norm are the rails themselves being virtually an upside down version of what most other boards are running. The hard top edge and soft undercut of the rail shape serves two very important purposes critical to the boards performance. First being that, narrow as the board is at 26 1/2″, that’s at the top of the rail, because of the undercut, where the board actually contacts the water is a very speedy 23″. This, combined with it’s waterline length gives us a length to beam ratio of around 9.3 to 1, well inside the magical 8 to 1 figure around which point seacraft cease to produce a significant bow and stern wave (one of the physically limiting factors for maximum hull speed). Secondly as opposed to a board with a  typical rail shape which is at it’s most stable when in the bolt upright position, the Penetrator, while a little tippy when upright, becomes more stable the further you tip it over, which when you think about it is precisely when maximum stability is required!!!

Since it’s creation Woogie has raced the 572 model in 2 races, a 25 mile relay race which he, along with partner Danny Sheard won by around 4 miles and a solo 16 miler which he won by about the same distance. Between the 16′4″ and the 18′8″ Penetrators they have an unbeaten record of 6 wins from 6 starts and are definitely well on their way to being proven as incredibly fast and an extremely valid design concept.

On a personal note I have never expected to become a rich man from these boards as they are very labour intensive and I build every one of them by hand from start to finish. That’s right, I shape, glass, sand , spray and fit out each and every one of them and it gives me immense satisfaction. My main motivation comes from a desire to prove and show to the world a design of board I conceived, designed and created from scratch all by myself and I am more than happy to share my ideas with anyone who’s interested.

SUP Surf 101 Basic Track Chapter 4–Up and Surfing

This ebook is being written in four parallel paths: Basics; Surfing; Theory, and Conditioning.  It will also eventually have a lot of pictures and video added. I have an outline, a shot list, and plans for the videos, but they have to wait until I can get to them. Chapter 4 of the Basic track covers catching waves. Source material include:

Learn to Surf: Intermediate Level

The Art of Surfing: A Training Manual for the Developing and Competitive Surfer

Let’s go surf.

Chapter 4: Up and Surfing

You’re in the lineup, away from other surfers, looking outwards at the waves with your board pointed more or less in the direction down the wave you want to go. If you’re standard foot your board is pointed to surfer’s right, goofy foot you’re pointed surfer’s left. (Surfer’s right means to the right as you face the beach, which is where you will be looking once you catch the wave. Since you are currently facing the wave your board will be pointed to your left).At this point in your surfing career, you are not ready to go to the backside on a wave, which means ride the wave with you back to it, you’re going to surf frontside, with your body facing the wave.

You are centered on your board, feet in a parallel stance, and you’re comfortably riding swells and chop. When a wave comes that you don’t want to take, you turn your board to point straight at it, paddle a little to power over the wave, then turn back sideways to your ready position. You see a wave you want to take. The peak is coming straight at you and no one else is getting ready to try for the wave. You move your rear foot back towards the tail to raise the nose a little, give some short, wide sweeps with your paddle to turn the board towards the beach. You pick a target on the beach to paddle towards, and start paddling to gain some momentum. As you feel the tail of the board start to lift, you shift your weight rearward a little and start paddling hard. The board accelerates well but is hanging on the lip of the wave a little.  You lean forward and stroke hard and fast, the paddle strokes ending before they reach your feet. The board drops into the wave and starts to shoot for the bottom, so you lean your weight backwards to pull the nose up so it won’t pearl at the base of the wave. You’re zooming straight down the wave. You look over your shoulder to the left to make sure no one is coming towards you, then to the right in the direction you want to turn. With a small weight shift towards the right rail–really not much more than just thinking about turning–the board swings gently in that direction and you’re trimmed in, riding the wave fast across it’s face.

The waves starts to crumble in front of you, with a big whitewater section forming that blocks your path. You straighten out and point the nose towards the beach, leaning back on the board to keep the whitewater from lifting the tail, and pressing back with your paddle to stabilize yourself in the turbulent ride. As the wave starts to peter out, your board drops out of the wave, you turn the board around and paddle back out to the break.

This little scenario describes a very simple ride on a wave. No big bottom or top turns, no cutbacks, just catching the wave,  gentle changes of direction and a smooth, trimmed ride. Let’s take it apart and make sure you understand how to do each part of it, and outline both some practice moves and some corrective actions to take when you have problems.

Find the Peak

In a moderate-sized wave it’s very useful to find the peak. This is that place where the wave will break first and it is the steepest section of the wave–the steepness makes it much easier to catch and ride the wave. When you are looking out a a wave you can easily recognize a peak–it’s taller and more defined than the rest of the wave. But as the wave moves towards you the peak may move around or almost disappear. This is caused by varying bottom contours. In general you need to watch waves at any particular break for awhile to figure out where the peak is going to form to produce a rideable wave. The peak will not form in the same place every time. How the energy is distributed in the wave has almost as much influence over the position of the peak as the bottom contour does. You may be able to tell though that a wave that has an outside peak 50 yards to your left is going to have a peak at the break that’s ten yards to your right.  So you paddle to where you believe the peak will be and take the wave.

If the break has other surfers in it, even those that are fairly far away, they can be right next to you in a few seconds if they catch a wave and ride the face well. If they are closest to the shoulder (to your left if the shoulder is breaking to the right) then they have the right of way–it’s their wave. You need to stay out of their way. If you see someone coming at you, either turn out of the wave, or drop down onto your board and sit on the back end. DO NOT bail out and let your board run to the end of it’s leash, DO NOT fall and let your board get away. If you do your board will probably hit them, and they will either be injured or righteously angry at you.

Paddling To Catch The Wave

Once you have an idea where the peak will be, paddle to that point, turn towards the beach, and start to paddle. You may find that you have a hard time turning the first few times. In your excitement (and maybe a litle fear) you are forgetting how to turn, probably standing in the middle of the board, taking ineffectual little dabs with the paddle. Calm down, take a big step back with your rear foot, lean back a little, put the paddle in in the water up near the nose and sweep outwards to 90 degrees. Don’t sweep further, you’ll just be pushing against the fin. Several smooth strokes from the nose to 90 degrees will turn the board quickly.

If you turned properly your foot is already back. All you need to do to complete the surfer’s stance is bend your knees and keep you back straight. Surfing is largely balance, and balance is largely posture. Shoulders squared, knees bent, looking at the shore, start paddling. DO NOT take long strokes. Short strokes from the nose to your feet, or even shorter, will aid your balance and keep the nose light which helps acceleration. Long, sweeping strokes pull the the tail down at the end of the stroke and pull your weight forward as you lift the paddle.

As you start to feel the tail lift from the wave,  paddle harder, keeping your strokes short but increasing the pull and the cadence. As you feel the wave take the board, be prepared to shift your weight back to pick the nose up to keep from pearling. Depending on your board’s design, you may have to shift a lot of weight back, and even move your feet back further.

If the wave starts getting away from you, pushing the board but starting to get ahead, you can paddle harder and pull against the face, you can shift more weight forward to try to tip the board over the face, or even thrust the board forward with your feet and hips. Or you can just let it go–there’s plenty of waves. Though that raises the specter of the next wave and the possibility of being caught inside, which we’ll cover in detail later.

Turning and Running

There’s nothing wrong with running straight in front of the wave if you are by yourself–in a popular lineup you’ll be detested, but in your own wave, off by yourself it’s OK, but it’s a bumpy ride. The wave will break and you’ll be in the turbulent whitewater. You really want to be on the shoulder in the smooth and powerful water as long as possible. Most of the maneuvers people make in waves are aimed at staying in the sweet spot. But you don’t have to rip up a wave like Dave Kalama to turn, trim in and get a nice ride from a wave.

Technically speaking, any turn you make at the bottom of a wave is a bottom turn, but we’ll tell you later how to do the powered-up driving turn that most people think of when someone says “Bottom turn”.  For now we’re going to proceed more gently because you are probably not going fast enough to slash a turn.

The first determinant of how a turn is made is the speed you are holding. If the board is moving slowly, leaning back and pushing hard on a rail will pivot the board sharply, digging the rail and bringing the board to a halt. You won’t know all that happened because you’ll be under water.  If your board is gliding along you need to make gentle adjustments to initiate a turn, and gentle trimming to exit the turn.

It’s easiest for a beginner to turn in the directions your toes are pointing–so if you’re a regular foot your first turns should be towards the right, goofy foot will turn left. All turns engage your lower and upper body, your shoulders, arms, hips, knees and your ankles. But when you’re first learning how to manage these pivot points it’s best to concentrate on just a few and let the rest take care of themselves.

First, try to keep your upper body quiet. That doesn’t mean stiff: Stay loose, stay athletic and poised, but don’t wave your arms around and don’t pivot forward at the waist. Look in the direction you want to turn. Use your knees and ankles to press on the balls of your feet and your toes, lifting your heels gently. Your board will start to turn, probably a little sharper than you had in mind. Surfboards are subtle instruments, it doesn’t take much to make them respond. As the board turns and starts to climb the face of the wave, flatten the board by centering your weight on your heels and the balls of your feet. Bend your knees, keep your back straight, and your board will fly along the face of the wave. Going straight is just riding a wave. Now you’re surfing.

A Clean Exit

Once you’re up and running along a face the temptation is enormous to go as far as the wave will take you. Unfortunately that could be into water that’s too shallow. You want to exit the wave at a point of your choosing, not by having your fin smack a coral head. The easiest way is to simply sit down. Bend at the knees, then at the waist, grab the board by the rails and sit down with your legs in the water. Your board will stop quickly and you’ll look like a pro.

Don’t get in the habit of simply falling off the board, and never hop off feet first. In the tropics you’ll be asking for coral and rock cuts, or much worse. A Sea Urchin could be waiting there for you like an underwater porcupine. A dozen or so inch-long barbed spines broken off flush in your foot will ruin your whole day. But anywhere you surf it will pay to learn to be “one with the surface”. You want to fall flat with a huge splash. Spread out like a starfish. And once you are in the water treat the bottom like it was poison. Don’t put your feet down, slide onto your board and paddle out. Coral may cut you up, but you’re actually harder on the coral than the coral is on you. Stepping on coral kills it. Keep your feet up.

You can also turn out of the wave. To do this just press the rail down with your toes and hold the turn until the board curves out of the wave. This doesn’t work if the board is in whitewater or the wave is sectioning in front of you and the whitewater in the section hits your board. The turbulence will turn your board back toward the beach, usually without you on it.

And finally you can turn out of the wave by stepping back onto the tail of the board. shuffle back a bit until the nose comes up and the board will lose way in the wave and slip back out of it. You can help this by dragging your paddle in the water.

Once you are out of the wave, you need to look out at the next waves and see where you stand. If you caught the first wave of a set you might have some big stuff bearing down on you. Stay alert and prepare yourself to get back to the lineup.

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