Well the Olo has finally made it to welly. On Sunday morning Blunt kindly drove over the hill and met me at Lyall Bay.
I had initially intended to head over to Titahi bay where it was a nice clean three foot, but as there were some perfect one footers at Lyall bay I decided to save us the drive and head there. As it turned out conditions were perfect for a first attempt at riding the Olo.
After Blunt handed over the board I headed out for a surf. It was waist height at best but it was clean and there was nobody else out.
The first thing I noticed was that the board paddles well. It feels very much at home in the ocean. I had no problem finding the sweet spot, which is always a good sign with an unfamiliar board. The next thing I noticed was how much the board flexes when you go over a wave. It was slightly alarming at first but I quickly got used to this phenomenon.Anyway within thirty seconds of paddling out a nice little one footer came my way and after a bit of difficulty turning the board I was up and riding. I really didn't know what to expect as I haven't ridden even a mini mal for twenty years, but the board seemed to want to be ridden so I just stood up, trimmed and let it do the rest. Stoked
Feeling good about life at this stage I paddled over to second peak and caught a beautiful 1.5 footer. The board trimmed sweetly and next thing I knew I was moving about twice as fast as would be possible on my shortboard on the same wave. I decided to adopt the "Duke" stance and stand upright with my arms hanging loosely.
The board just needed the slightest change in weight to change trim and I managed to make it right across to the other bank and all the way to the beach.
I caught a few more waves in the same fashion until my friend Mads paddled out. Mads had a go on the board using more of a Roy style, which my girlfriend reckons was more functional than the "Duke". I guess it makes sense since Roy made the board.
Today I split from work at lunch and went back down to Lyall bay with the board. The swell was more like one to two foot today and it seemed to handle the conditions well.A guy called Karl who makes timber boards had a go. Karl employed a bit of a Roy style as well so there must be something in it.
As for myself I caught one 2.5 footer and the board seemed to hit a real sweet spot and started to glide beautifully. I managed to achieve this on a couple of other waves and it was a great feeling. I couldn't help but think about what it would be like in something a bit bigger.
Some thoughts regarding the board.
1/ I reckon that given a bit of practice it would be possible to ride the board in some pretty big waves. With the pin tail, all it's rocker and big fin I reckon it could take on just about anything. However I wouldn't want to be wearing a legrope if I wiped out. It would probably rip your leg off. No leggie was fine in 1-2 foot but in 8 foot a leggie would be necessary and that would be downright dangerous. The other consideration is the danger to other surfers. Once again it was fine in 1-2 foot, but a stray board in a crowded lineup could kill somebody. I'm guessing that Roy has a solution to this. My solution today was not to let go of the board, which worked well, but I surf without a leggie all the time so it wasn't that difficult for me.
2/ The thing paddles so well that there was no need to duck-dive. It simply crashes through the waves. I reckon I'd happily paddle across Cook Strait on it. Catching waves was easy as it was almost possible to paddle as fast as the wave was moving in!3/ You need to plan ahead when you go to catch a wave. The old swing round and one paddle take off under the lip would seem to be impossible. Lyall bay is great since the waves are well defined and give you lots of time to sus them out. To turn the board round too catch a wave it is necessary to sit right on the tail and lift the entire length out of the water. probably just comes down to practice this one.
4/ The board has heaps of momentum but is not very agile. Forget about stalling it. I'd imagine in really hollow waves you'd just end up racing infront of the barrel. Maybe it's calling is somewhere where stalling isn't necessary like... Teahupoo!
5/ The wind was a bit of a problem. With so much of the nose poking out of the water the offshore was slowing the board down a bit at times. However, in saying this once it was trimming pretty much nothing was stopping it!
6/ Transporting and storing such a long and heavy board is a pain. In summer I like to run down the bush track to Houghton bay and go surfing. This would be impossible with the olo. It's either live right on the beach or use the car. The board wont fit in the car so you have to put it on the roof which is an exercise in itself. The board takes up the entire length of my lounge. I have to do a three point turn to get it through the front door!
7/ The board is truely a work of art. The craftmanship is without fault. I felt honoured to be riding it. I particularly like the sound it makes when you open the bung after a surf.
In conclusion riding the olo is pretty much a completely different activity to what most people consider surfing to be. It requires a complete re-think, and a new set of skills. I am a firm believer that with a bit of practice it would be possible to do practically anything with any board. In the case of the olo I reckon it would handle somewhere like Pipe. You'd just need to be very skilled and figure out how not to lose the board. There probably is a way to stall it, and there probably is a way to take off late. The problem for me is that my philosophy has always been to surf the shortest board possible on any give day, so basically I'm coming from completely the opposite end of the surfing spectrum than the olo!I reckon some of those North Shore water men would be all over it at somewhere like Sunset. That's something I'd love to see. I'd be happy to take on some of the mad spots round here but I reckon Roy wouldn't be too happy about the inevitable demolition job on the rocks!
Anyway I'm well stoked with my experience and I'd like to take the oppertunity to thank Roy for being such a good sport and allowing me to have a crack. I hope Roy understands that my criticisms are more due to my lack of skill rather than any deficiency in the board. Like I said, with a bit of practice anything's possible.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
the Olo in Welly
Hello everybody,
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Video :: Little Peelers :: Christchurch
dumbbell 
posted 02 July 2008 11:01
Been meaning to do something with some olo footage Groovn shot for a while now. Finally pulled finger and tidied it up last night. Don't expect too much, it's just kooks on an olo that was meant for bigger things, okay!! Click on 'watch in high quality' just below the vid, it will be much nicer.
posted 02 July 2008 11:01Been meaning to do something with some olo footage Groovn shot for a while now. Finally pulled finger and tidied it up last night. Don't expect too much, it's just kooks on an olo that was meant for bigger things, okay!! Click on 'watch in high quality' just below the vid, it will be much nicer.
little peelers
posted 02 July 2008 By Dumbell
Been meaning to do something with some olo footage Groovn shot for a while now.
Finally pulled finger and tidied it up last night.
Don't expect too much, it's just kooks on an olo that was meant for bigger things, okay!!
Been meaning to do something with some olo footage Groovn shot for a while now.
Finally pulled finger and tidied it up last night.
Don't expect too much, it's just kooks on an olo that was meant for bigger things, okay!!
Monday, June 23, 2008
Handover to the North Island
Groovn fulfilled his promise to escort the Olo from Christchurch, over the Cook Straight and into the hands of Blunt.
TheRealGroovn posted 23 June 2008 17:55
TheRealGroovn posted 23 June 2008 17:55
Great to see you again blunt, and thanks for the hospitality!
I wish the plans would have been better made and we'd have had some time to spend over the coast, but next time!
It was either get the olo up North this weekend, or it'd be another 2 months before I oould keep my pledge to bring it over the strait.... so that mission accomplished.
Too bad we didn't get it out in the 'rapa, but I reckon it's more fitting if the 'rapa locals get first knocks on the big wooden stick.
I'm gonna plan us a family getaway to the 'rapa coast though, those vids have got me sold.
BTW - Toppy's was on the money, great food and good people. See ya next time!
And so ends the olo's southern run, it's been very cool to have had the experience... that board'll be missed, take good care of her!
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Groovn's Dusky
well... here's a brief olo surf report.
If you've ever done something that was ridiculous, KNOWING it was ridiculous and perhaps even citing to yourself the reasons it was ridiculous but compelled to do it no less; you'll know where I'm coming from with this.
Last evening about dusk I decided I wanted to go for a surf before dark. Mind you it was about 20 minutes to dark and I still had to suit up and get to the end of the street with the very large plank of wood I'd be taking to the sea.
Never mind that. Never mind that the wind was clearly strong and onshore. Never mind that earlier in the day there'd been F*** All waves. Never mind how bloody cold it had got in the past hour. Never mind the fact my back still hurts and I have a cold.
So off I went... lugging the big board down the 500 meters of street, fighting against the wind's desire to tear it from my grip.
Upon cresting the dunes I again had a very stark realization of how ridiculous this mission was; Howling 15kt onshore wind was unrelenting and straight on. There were no waves save for the two second wind slop that was scarcely breaking into mush just off the beach. The tide was at a superlow and it was cold as. For a moment I considered walking back home. But no, I was resolved to do the ridiculous - now bordering on the stupid and pointless.
So I paddled out. Some random thoughts that occurred to me upon paddling out and sitting out there;
DAMN it is COLD... what's happened the water is positively FRIGID!!
What kind of idiot am I, precisely?
This is a stretch even for me....
Oh, there's one (Paddle like hell almost to the beach).... ahh, right. NOT one.
If I can just catch one wave it'll have been worth the go.
The olo's sleek wet nose looks very cool in the moonlight.
Is that a wave outside... a wee set? Ah, right. No.
Well at least I'm getting some paddling in... and the equivalent to a bucket of ice tossed in my face every 2 seconds whilst I paddle around in wind slop.... moron.
Oh.... HERE's one!!! Oh, look I'm up and actually riding, cool... uh... the wave is gone and now I've fallen off like a total kook. What a moron.
Ah... the leash came off, great. Well since I'm in knee deep water I'll just grab the board.
Upon completing that thought I grabbed the board right as a little wave rolled it and the giant point of a tail spiked me hard right in the shoulder.
I emitted a series of really foul words that ended in something like "you moron" and I headed home. Cold, frustrated, and telling myself "see... TOLD you that was ridiculous".
On the positive side, on the way home a guy had just pulled in his drive and was gathering stuff in his car. Outside the car a little girl maybe three or four years old was excitedly leaping up and down and screaming DADDY DADDY DADDY delightedly while slapping her palms on the window....
I smiled and felt instantly warmer and headed up the street to wait for my girls to arrive home and get out of my wettie - and put the olo back in its bag where I ought to have left it.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
May Swell
Well... here's a brief recap of the trifecta I've enjoyed over the past three days of this fine May swell.
After having been too-long surfless and too-long away from the sea, the Olo awaited me. Back in Christchurch, it had been dutifully (with impressive care and craftsmanship) restored to serviceability by earinfector after a fin crack was discovered. I’d been back from a trip to India for nearly a week when I turned up at earinfector’s for a handover of the Big Wooden Board. It was like a rendezvous with a long-absent, beloved family member.
The intensity of India had burnt me into a summer mode, and stepping off the plane back on the South Island earlier in the week had shocked my system. Lack of swell and cold mornings had allied themselves to mute my stoke, and I’d not been in the water at all since my return. Thankfully, this weekend the siren song of some wave-lusting Lorelei called me back to the sea.
Friday afternoon saw solid overhead to pushing double sets and a relentless march of white walled soldiers lined up in ranks to guard the most precious of the swell’s treasures. Dumbell came to shoot photo, and I tenuously prepared for my first surf in over a month and a half... wondering how badly I'd be worked.
Only one other guy was visible on the horizon, sitting well outside the pier and picking off an occasional bomb; beautiful a-frames plumed in the offshore wind and despite the cold I felt a charge of heat and excitement. It was the old familiar energy of a big winter swell.
Heading well down the beach - a good 500 meters - I picked a rip and paddled out. Thought I had the timing perfect, riding the outgoing currents and staring intently at the horizon as I stroked hard. The longshore current was immediately dragging me visibly northward at an alarming rate, the inside not too bad yet, big walls of white but relatively easy to slide through. I made it about even with the end of the pier and started feeling good, the edge of the outside foam lines drawing into my sightline and not too far off.
Then the horizon stood up.
The first wave wasn't actually all that bad. I rolled under and held hard to the nose, feeling a truck roll over me and pass pretty quickly. Rolling back topside I felt my lungs burning from the combined effort of breath-holding and nonstop stroking. Wiping water from my eyes, I grimaced.
The horizon had doubled.
This time as I rolled under, I had a sick feeling... seeing that I was almost directly under the lip. I wondered how long this would last, and how I was going to swim with the olo snapped in half. The impact wasnt the thing, it was the recoil. As I held to the nose with all I had, the backblast from the wave's impact lifted the olo, me and my whole universe well clear of its current reality and flung me into a sort of oblivion that must be reserved for REALLY crazy people. By the time it was all over, I was gasping, my feet were wrapped together by the leash, I was flailing in 6 inch deep foam and chasing breath while every limb tried to reattach itself.
Then the third wave hit me.
I can't really remember much about it; except I do remember a lot of flailing, a lot of pressure, and a general sense of demise. From which I somehow surfaced, ready to call it quits. But like a guy given a pardon three seconds before the firing squad let’s loose, I was off the hook; there were no more waves. An eery calm had settled over the scene. A seagull lazed by in a shoreward crab angle, mocking me with a sideways grin. I paddled and as I did so I marvelled that I was now nearly to the pier. But I was making up lost progress and I was in a rhythm with the horizon growing closer by the stroke.
I nearly made it too, if only the next set had held off for thirty seconds.
When I'd walked back up the beach again, and well beyond my first attempted entry I waited for what seemed to be the right timing and I hit it once more. This time was a near instant replay of the first, except that I managed to get whacked by a few insiders as well as getting worked like a rag doll in an industrial wash machine. But just as I was ready to call an official forfeit, as I ran out of steam and lay panting so deeply it sounded like a cough.; I was out the back and into grey-green water unmarred by any foam. It was quiet now, and the world dropped away as I felt a charge of joy and a feeling of serene goodness. I was well beyond the pier now, and paddling over several sets to get the feel for their timing and rythym.
I'm sitting out there and paddling after several sets, but not getting the timing or the takeoff spot quite right. There's a lot of water moving and I've not surfed in quite some time, so it takes me some time to feel confident going for anything.
The sea undulates, lifts me, gently sets me back down into her troughs and then lifts me again. I'm drawn into her trance and the world feels fine. Great manes of seaspray shower back over me with the passing of the larger set waves and the energy infuses me. The battle of the paddle has been well worth it, for this moment alone.
I finally manage to be in position for a likely-looking ride and I stroke hard for it. The olo takes its time getting into these waves. They’re big, but still not super steep, so the rocker has to fight against the speed of the wave but I'm into it and popping up and my eyes are blurred with a haze of spray. Midway down the face I'm able to see and the bad news before me is a great big unmake-able section. Still the wave puts on some solid speed and the energy below travels up my feet and fills my heart and I'm soaring. After all the paddling I'm spent and my shoulder throbbing a bit, so I transition to a parallel stance and just ride the big foam ball to shore after the whole wave has broken into a roiling white steamroller.
Back on shore I thank my photog for the afternoon; Steve had come out despite his being just over the verge of getting sick, to stand in the cold and watch me paddle for an hour and a half. At least I got one wave - if only a mediocre one. Nonetheless I'm charged up and feeling glorious as I peel out of my wettie in the chill of the carpark. People stop to admire the olo and ask questions about it. I give them the abridged version of its origins and its journey. Invariably they smile.
I find myself grateful for having had my part in this story. I load up the olo and head home for the day. Not a bad finish to a Friday, and a fantastic beginning to a weekend.
Saturday morning it was a bit bigger, but also a lot less consistent in shape and at the pier things were pretty disorganised. The paddle looked even worse than the previous day and at 730am I wasn't really up for it. I decided to make a run to scarbs and Taylors to check things out.
Scarbs was big, but fat, fat fat and breaking well outside the headland on the sets. It'd be an easy paddle but I figured it'd be typical mush and disappointment scarbs. Over the hill I went. Taylor's was crap. High tide and a poor angle reduced it to a waste of time. Three souls sat hopefully well over in the northern corner, radiating optimism that a few stray lefts would get through with some shape and size. I watched them for 20 minutes and nothing broke anywhere near them. I decided to bag it.
Coming back down the hill, I second guessed myself and decided to paddle out at scarbs. At least I'd get wet and the paddle would be easy. And indeed it was. I hopped into the rip and was right out the back well past the headland in minutes. There I spent 30 minutes or so chasing back and forth trying to find a workable takeoff zone. After much scrabbling I resigned myself to the recognition that these big fat outsiders were much better-suited to a board with no rocker whatsoever.
I paddled in and sat just inside the jetty picking off a few smaller reforms that at least had some pitch off the inside bar. Another 30 minutes of that and I'd had enough scarbs for a lifetime so I called it a morning and headed in.
This session was energizing. Just being in the sea again with big ground swell energy moving through and around me had lifted my day.. But also it cemented two certainties for me; Scarbs is never worth bothering with unless you're on a no-rocker noserider log, and the olo does NOT like fat mushy waves no matter how big they are.
Still, I went home with a smile and was stoked to find a few local grommetts pass by and inquire "is that the olo!!??" It’s become a legendary board in its own little right.
Sunday was looking seriously big. Meaty, heavy waves reared up outside beyond one legendary paddle fraught with walls and rips and mountains of churn. I wasn't feeling tremendously motivated - yet the thought of another couple hours wasted at Sumner spurned me into a brief moment of bravery and I decided to give it a burl at the Pier. Three guys had just headed out, and I watched them hike forever to the south and make the paddle. Took them about 15 minutes, maybe 20 all up and by the time they were out the back they'd nearly passed the pier. But if they could do it, so could I.
The paddle itself was indeed a mission. I got tossed and churned and I paddled so hard and so long I felt my arms were going to simply fall off and my shoulders were ready to explode like ripe pumpkins dropped off the SkyTower on a hot February afternoon.
Time and time again, once I hit the real impact zone, I got blasted back a hundred yards by a set wave after coming paingfully close to beating fate out the back. The pier loomed ever closer and I was panting so hard from all the rolling under, paddling and scrambling to get the olo turned back around that I'm pretty sure my lungs were actually bubbling out my mouth like chewing gum as I exhaled. There was nothing left in my arms or legs when finally everything once again went magically calm. The offshore breeze sang to me and the shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiisihhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....... sound of the seaspray raining down off the back of the last wave to break told me I'd made it.
I stroked a few dozen meters more, to be sure I was well clear of any sweeper sets and then sat up to assess the situation. At first I couldnt find the pier... until I realised it was directly behind me by about 300 meters. I'd never sat so far out here before, and for a moment I wondered what in hell I was thinking. But as the gunmetal grey day sunk into my aching muscles and the sounds and the sea and the wind calmed me, I began to feel that there was noplace I'd rather be. The olo made pleasant wood on water sounds beneath me and gave me a reassuring presence way out there... made me feel safe.
The first few sets I dodged. They looked insanely big and when I realised that on the bigger ones I was physically straining to paddle UP their faces... on thirteen feet of wood with plenty of water both above and below me... my heart fluttered a bit. This would be interesting to say the least. But I was comforted by the fact that I'd been hammered by a few on the way out and lived through that. Ironically, because I was sitting out so far, the hold down wasnt all that bad and despite being dragged and tossed around quite a bit I found the torrent of these waves less lethal than some of the big near-shore thumpers I've dealt with in other parts of the world before.
And so it was that I gained confidence and set aside the twinge of fear to swoop into a bomb set a few minutes later. At first the olo had a tough time. It bogged and I thought I'd be pitched by the rapidly nearing waterfall. Before that happened though, I shifted my weight well forward and the board took off - nearly leaving me behind as it did. Like a big wooden rocket I was swept out into a deep bottom turn and then leaned hard to bring the board carving back up and out of the range of the foamy white teeth bearing down on me. I took a high line and beat it straight along a big wall dragging a hand in the moving water and feeling the board flow. Dropped down and up a few smallish turns, but fearing the beatdown I refrained from any hard turns. Finally I drove hard up and over the back just before a secion collapsed ahead of me.
Alive with a firey stoke I whooped and paddled back out hollering THANK YOU!!!!!! That one wave alone would have been more than worth the entire weekend of beatings.
But I got five more just like it.
I had to paddle hard just to maintain position, and in between waves I found myself getting inside too far on a couple and suffering further beatdowns, panting and losing all strength. Somehow the sea let me up each time though, just as I was beginning to feel I couldn't go on.
My final wave was a right, a big hard late drop that I had to pigdog and hold the rail with just to stay aboard. The olo took off screaming down the line, into the pit and then back up to mid-face with a waterfall-mountain nipping at my heels. A section was bearing down from ahead and the whole bottom was dropping out as the wave started to ledge on what's normally the outer bank.... I straightened out, scooted back to the tail and prepared for a gut-twisting drop that I really thought was going to end in ugliness.....
A few seconds of white and a lot of noise; then I was out in front of a roiling pile of whitewater and I was a man FULLY ALIVE!!!!
I rode that last wave all the way into the beach.... which took a LONG damn time from way out there. I stopped and stared for a long while, and I gave thanks to the Spirit of the Sea for keeping me safe, for bringing me joy and for this incredible day... then staggered back to the carpark lugging the olo.
In the lot a guy came up and admired the board.... I told him the story of the olo, its creator, the hikoi.... he was a softspoken guy with a pretty serene look about him. He was keenly interested as I told him the tale of this unique wavecraft and its journey. Later he sent me a message that it had really touched him.
And it sure as hell has touched me.... There aren't enough stories like this in the world. I'm grateful to have been part of this one.
Later on Sunday night as I walked with my little girl on the beach, the waves were still pumping in the distance and a shroud of mist hung over the seascape, veiling the power and the energy for the night. I walked a long time, until well after twilight. The baby cooed and talked away as I pushed the pram along the shore. The dog raced ahead into the darkness, tearing back to check on us every 100 yards or so. The sea continued to speak to me - now muffled and faded. And I headed back home a happy man.
After having been too-long surfless and too-long away from the sea, the Olo awaited me. Back in Christchurch, it had been dutifully (with impressive care and craftsmanship) restored to serviceability by earinfector after a fin crack was discovered. I’d been back from a trip to India for nearly a week when I turned up at earinfector’s for a handover of the Big Wooden Board. It was like a rendezvous with a long-absent, beloved family member.
The intensity of India had burnt me into a summer mode, and stepping off the plane back on the South Island earlier in the week had shocked my system. Lack of swell and cold mornings had allied themselves to mute my stoke, and I’d not been in the water at all since my return. Thankfully, this weekend the siren song of some wave-lusting Lorelei called me back to the sea.
Friday afternoon saw solid overhead to pushing double sets and a relentless march of white walled soldiers lined up in ranks to guard the most precious of the swell’s treasures. Dumbell came to shoot photo, and I tenuously prepared for my first surf in over a month and a half... wondering how badly I'd be worked.
Only one other guy was visible on the horizon, sitting well outside the pier and picking off an occasional bomb; beautiful a-frames plumed in the offshore wind and despite the cold I felt a charge of heat and excitement. It was the old familiar energy of a big winter swell.
Heading well down the beach - a good 500 meters - I picked a rip and paddled out. Thought I had the timing perfect, riding the outgoing currents and staring intently at the horizon as I stroked hard. The longshore current was immediately dragging me visibly northward at an alarming rate, the inside not too bad yet, big walls of white but relatively easy to slide through. I made it about even with the end of the pier and started feeling good, the edge of the outside foam lines drawing into my sightline and not too far off.
Then the horizon stood up.
The first wave wasn't actually all that bad. I rolled under and held hard to the nose, feeling a truck roll over me and pass pretty quickly. Rolling back topside I felt my lungs burning from the combined effort of breath-holding and nonstop stroking. Wiping water from my eyes, I grimaced.
The horizon had doubled.
This time as I rolled under, I had a sick feeling... seeing that I was almost directly under the lip. I wondered how long this would last, and how I was going to swim with the olo snapped in half. The impact wasnt the thing, it was the recoil. As I held to the nose with all I had, the backblast from the wave's impact lifted the olo, me and my whole universe well clear of its current reality and flung me into a sort of oblivion that must be reserved for REALLY crazy people. By the time it was all over, I was gasping, my feet were wrapped together by the leash, I was flailing in 6 inch deep foam and chasing breath while every limb tried to reattach itself.
Then the third wave hit me.
I can't really remember much about it; except I do remember a lot of flailing, a lot of pressure, and a general sense of demise. From which I somehow surfaced, ready to call it quits. But like a guy given a pardon three seconds before the firing squad let’s loose, I was off the hook; there were no more waves. An eery calm had settled over the scene. A seagull lazed by in a shoreward crab angle, mocking me with a sideways grin. I paddled and as I did so I marvelled that I was now nearly to the pier. But I was making up lost progress and I was in a rhythm with the horizon growing closer by the stroke.
I nearly made it too, if only the next set had held off for thirty seconds.
When I'd walked back up the beach again, and well beyond my first attempted entry I waited for what seemed to be the right timing and I hit it once more. This time was a near instant replay of the first, except that I managed to get whacked by a few insiders as well as getting worked like a rag doll in an industrial wash machine. But just as I was ready to call an official forfeit, as I ran out of steam and lay panting so deeply it sounded like a cough.; I was out the back and into grey-green water unmarred by any foam. It was quiet now, and the world dropped away as I felt a charge of joy and a feeling of serene goodness. I was well beyond the pier now, and paddling over several sets to get the feel for their timing and rythym.
I'm sitting out there and paddling after several sets, but not getting the timing or the takeoff spot quite right. There's a lot of water moving and I've not surfed in quite some time, so it takes me some time to feel confident going for anything.
The sea undulates, lifts me, gently sets me back down into her troughs and then lifts me again. I'm drawn into her trance and the world feels fine. Great manes of seaspray shower back over me with the passing of the larger set waves and the energy infuses me. The battle of the paddle has been well worth it, for this moment alone.
I finally manage to be in position for a likely-looking ride and I stroke hard for it. The olo takes its time getting into these waves. They’re big, but still not super steep, so the rocker has to fight against the speed of the wave but I'm into it and popping up and my eyes are blurred with a haze of spray. Midway down the face I'm able to see and the bad news before me is a great big unmake-able section. Still the wave puts on some solid speed and the energy below travels up my feet and fills my heart and I'm soaring. After all the paddling I'm spent and my shoulder throbbing a bit, so I transition to a parallel stance and just ride the big foam ball to shore after the whole wave has broken into a roiling white steamroller.
Back on shore I thank my photog for the afternoon; Steve had come out despite his being just over the verge of getting sick, to stand in the cold and watch me paddle for an hour and a half. At least I got one wave - if only a mediocre one. Nonetheless I'm charged up and feeling glorious as I peel out of my wettie in the chill of the carpark. People stop to admire the olo and ask questions about it. I give them the abridged version of its origins and its journey. Invariably they smile.
I find myself grateful for having had my part in this story. I load up the olo and head home for the day. Not a bad finish to a Friday, and a fantastic beginning to a weekend.
Saturday morning it was a bit bigger, but also a lot less consistent in shape and at the pier things were pretty disorganised. The paddle looked even worse than the previous day and at 730am I wasn't really up for it. I decided to make a run to scarbs and Taylors to check things out.
Scarbs was big, but fat, fat fat and breaking well outside the headland on the sets. It'd be an easy paddle but I figured it'd be typical mush and disappointment scarbs. Over the hill I went. Taylor's was crap. High tide and a poor angle reduced it to a waste of time. Three souls sat hopefully well over in the northern corner, radiating optimism that a few stray lefts would get through with some shape and size. I watched them for 20 minutes and nothing broke anywhere near them. I decided to bag it.
Coming back down the hill, I second guessed myself and decided to paddle out at scarbs. At least I'd get wet and the paddle would be easy. And indeed it was. I hopped into the rip and was right out the back well past the headland in minutes. There I spent 30 minutes or so chasing back and forth trying to find a workable takeoff zone. After much scrabbling I resigned myself to the recognition that these big fat outsiders were much better-suited to a board with no rocker whatsoever.
I paddled in and sat just inside the jetty picking off a few smaller reforms that at least had some pitch off the inside bar. Another 30 minutes of that and I'd had enough scarbs for a lifetime so I called it a morning and headed in.
This session was energizing. Just being in the sea again with big ground swell energy moving through and around me had lifted my day.. But also it cemented two certainties for me; Scarbs is never worth bothering with unless you're on a no-rocker noserider log, and the olo does NOT like fat mushy waves no matter how big they are.
Still, I went home with a smile and was stoked to find a few local grommetts pass by and inquire "is that the olo!!??" It’s become a legendary board in its own little right.
Sunday was looking seriously big. Meaty, heavy waves reared up outside beyond one legendary paddle fraught with walls and rips and mountains of churn. I wasn't feeling tremendously motivated - yet the thought of another couple hours wasted at Sumner spurned me into a brief moment of bravery and I decided to give it a burl at the Pier. Three guys had just headed out, and I watched them hike forever to the south and make the paddle. Took them about 15 minutes, maybe 20 all up and by the time they were out the back they'd nearly passed the pier. But if they could do it, so could I.
The paddle itself was indeed a mission. I got tossed and churned and I paddled so hard and so long I felt my arms were going to simply fall off and my shoulders were ready to explode like ripe pumpkins dropped off the SkyTower on a hot February afternoon.
Time and time again, once I hit the real impact zone, I got blasted back a hundred yards by a set wave after coming paingfully close to beating fate out the back. The pier loomed ever closer and I was panting so hard from all the rolling under, paddling and scrambling to get the olo turned back around that I'm pretty sure my lungs were actually bubbling out my mouth like chewing gum as I exhaled. There was nothing left in my arms or legs when finally everything once again went magically calm. The offshore breeze sang to me and the shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiisihhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....... sound of the seaspray raining down off the back of the last wave to break told me I'd made it.
I stroked a few dozen meters more, to be sure I was well clear of any sweeper sets and then sat up to assess the situation. At first I couldnt find the pier... until I realised it was directly behind me by about 300 meters. I'd never sat so far out here before, and for a moment I wondered what in hell I was thinking. But as the gunmetal grey day sunk into my aching muscles and the sounds and the sea and the wind calmed me, I began to feel that there was noplace I'd rather be. The olo made pleasant wood on water sounds beneath me and gave me a reassuring presence way out there... made me feel safe.
The first few sets I dodged. They looked insanely big and when I realised that on the bigger ones I was physically straining to paddle UP their faces... on thirteen feet of wood with plenty of water both above and below me... my heart fluttered a bit. This would be interesting to say the least. But I was comforted by the fact that I'd been hammered by a few on the way out and lived through that. Ironically, because I was sitting out so far, the hold down wasnt all that bad and despite being dragged and tossed around quite a bit I found the torrent of these waves less lethal than some of the big near-shore thumpers I've dealt with in other parts of the world before.
And so it was that I gained confidence and set aside the twinge of fear to swoop into a bomb set a few minutes later. At first the olo had a tough time. It bogged and I thought I'd be pitched by the rapidly nearing waterfall. Before that happened though, I shifted my weight well forward and the board took off - nearly leaving me behind as it did. Like a big wooden rocket I was swept out into a deep bottom turn and then leaned hard to bring the board carving back up and out of the range of the foamy white teeth bearing down on me. I took a high line and beat it straight along a big wall dragging a hand in the moving water and feeling the board flow. Dropped down and up a few smallish turns, but fearing the beatdown I refrained from any hard turns. Finally I drove hard up and over the back just before a secion collapsed ahead of me.
Alive with a firey stoke I whooped and paddled back out hollering THANK YOU!!!!!! That one wave alone would have been more than worth the entire weekend of beatings.
But I got five more just like it.
I had to paddle hard just to maintain position, and in between waves I found myself getting inside too far on a couple and suffering further beatdowns, panting and losing all strength. Somehow the sea let me up each time though, just as I was beginning to feel I couldn't go on.
My final wave was a right, a big hard late drop that I had to pigdog and hold the rail with just to stay aboard. The olo took off screaming down the line, into the pit and then back up to mid-face with a waterfall-mountain nipping at my heels. A section was bearing down from ahead and the whole bottom was dropping out as the wave started to ledge on what's normally the outer bank.... I straightened out, scooted back to the tail and prepared for a gut-twisting drop that I really thought was going to end in ugliness.....
A few seconds of white and a lot of noise; then I was out in front of a roiling pile of whitewater and I was a man FULLY ALIVE!!!!
I rode that last wave all the way into the beach.... which took a LONG damn time from way out there. I stopped and stared for a long while, and I gave thanks to the Spirit of the Sea for keeping me safe, for bringing me joy and for this incredible day... then staggered back to the carpark lugging the olo.
In the lot a guy came up and admired the board.... I told him the story of the olo, its creator, the hikoi.... he was a softspoken guy with a pretty serene look about him. He was keenly interested as I told him the tale of this unique wavecraft and its journey. Later he sent me a message that it had really touched him.
And it sure as hell has touched me.... There aren't enough stories like this in the world. I'm grateful to have been part of this one.
Later on Sunday night as I walked with my little girl on the beach, the waves were still pumping in the distance and a shroud of mist hung over the seascape, veiling the power and the energy for the night. I walked a long time, until well after twilight. The baby cooed and talked away as I pushed the pram along the shore. The dog raced ahead into the darkness, tearing back to check on us every 100 yards or so. The sea continued to speak to me - now muffled and faded. And I headed back home a happy man.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
A crack in the armour
earinfector
posted 17 May 2008 17:05
roy - just was showing the board to mate and discovered a crack in the patu!!!doesn't look like a snap or damage to the wood, more that the resin has cracked. cracked all the way down so you can see the fibres of whatever that cloth is (what is it by the way).what's you advice oh boardmaster? let me know if you want more pics...
dunno how this happened man, promise i aint be rough with it! must have been those crankin full power bottom turns (
)i was doing... 
RoyStewart
posted 17 May 2008 17:45
In the meantime it can be botch repaired with some glass cloth and epoxy so that you can keep riding it, a strip around the base will do it but it will have to be faired in carefully so that it doesn't muck up the water flow. . . it's not a big job at all, the area to bond with the cloth will have to be well sanded though.
posted 17 May 2008 17:54
The thing is that a glass repair will still be visible but will work fine, so might as well do that for now. . . maybe I'll refin it or possibly keep it patched as a war horse not sure.
posted 17 May 2008 22:15
Earinfector I have been thinking about the fin some more and realised that the cloth is probably still intact because the knitted coton is super stretchy, so I think it's just the resin that's failed. How about just masking of the crack and applying some warmish epoxy and seing if it will run into the resin crack ? We dould then give it a go and only go for the glass patch if it looks like the resin line is opening up or leaking. If it stays tight then it's all good. Lol gone from replacing the fin to a glass patch to a few drops of resin I know what comes next I'll just say bung some wax in it and keep surfing !
earinfector
posted 21 May 2008 17:21
hi roy, your board is now waterworthy again, it'll need your caring touch as i am but a tradesman not a craftsman, i've got a lot on and chch is getting it's annual swell tomorrow and a board is for riding not polishing (that's a hell of a sheen on that base, no match for my 600 grit!).
RoyStewart
posted 21 May 2008 20:17
A Fantabulous job Earinfector, thanks very much. By the way that gloss is thanks to Father Ted, the board left my place with a 600 grit finish.
posted 17 May 2008 17:05
roy - just was showing the board to mate and discovered a crack in the patu!!!doesn't look like a snap or damage to the wood, more that the resin has cracked. cracked all the way down so you can see the fibres of whatever that cloth is (what is it by the way).what's you advice oh boardmaster? let me know if you want more pics...
dunno how this happened man, promise i aint be rough with it! must have been those crankin full power bottom turns (
)i was doing... RoyStewart
posted 17 May 2008 17:45
In the meantime it can be botch repaired with some glass cloth and epoxy so that you can keep riding it, a strip around the base will do it but it will have to be faired in carefully so that it doesn't muck up the water flow. . . it's not a big job at all, the area to bond with the cloth will have to be well sanded though.
posted 17 May 2008 17:54
The thing is that a glass repair will still be visible but will work fine, so might as well do that for now. . . maybe I'll refin it or possibly keep it patched as a war horse not sure.
posted 17 May 2008 22:15
Earinfector I have been thinking about the fin some more and realised that the cloth is probably still intact because the knitted coton is super stretchy, so I think it's just the resin that's failed. How about just masking of the crack and applying some warmish epoxy and seing if it will run into the resin crack ? We dould then give it a go and only go for the glass patch if it looks like the resin line is opening up or leaking. If it stays tight then it's all good. Lol gone from replacing the fin
to a glass patch to a few drops of resin I know what comes next I'll just say bung some wax in it and keep surfing !earinfector
posted 21 May 2008 17:21
hi roy, your board is now waterworthy again, it'll need your caring touch as i am but a tradesman not a craftsman, i've got a lot on and chch is getting it's annual swell tomorrow and a board is for riding not polishing (that's a hell of a sheen on that base, no match for my 600 grit!).
RoyStewart
posted 21 May 2008 20:17
A Fantabulous job Earinfector, thanks very much. By the way that gloss is thanks to Father Ted, the board left my place with a 600 grit finish.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Kahutara
earinfectors take:
This isn' t so much a tale of great surfing more the mutterings on a family day out with the Olo by a kook who got lucky.
Travelling up to Kaikoura for the weekend with Mrs Earinfector, Mrs Earinfector's Mum and Baby Earinfector and our dog, in snow and storm force southerlies, strapping the Olo to the roof of the car seemed pretty pointless. Nevertheless I was looking forward to our little adventure and felt privileged to having had the chance to take care of it for a short while, so who cares if I got to ride it or not.
We sailed up from ChCh on Friday night with the wind behind us and had a bit of a late start on Saturday after tending to all the things that need tending to with a newborn baby and mother-in-law. Mangamanu's just down the road, and is quite picturesque and as good a place as any to kick of a day of sightseeing, and I'd also be able to get a handle on what the ocean had planned for the day.
We stopped for few photos of some seals, it was a cold and windy but otherwise fine day. There were hefty swell lines rolling into Mangas but the wind was slashing it to bits, there was no chance I was heading out in that. At least I could now relax and get on with enjoying the day with the family.
So we went into town, had a look round the shops, had a nice lunch of crayfish by the beach out by the peninsular, took some more photos of seals, stood on the cliffs looked out at the tempestuous wind whipped sea and huge barrelling waves crashing on the rocks below. Nah, I won't be surfing today. Phew. Time was getting on and perhaps we should head back to the house, Kahutara wasn't exactly on the way but luckily I was the only one in the car with any sense of direction, so my suggestion of just quickly calling in at this nice beach on the way back went down quite well. We got onto the beach by the rivermouth, I was quite surprised and a little disappointed with what was there, it was less than head high, at the same time I was pleased though, it was a simple paddle, I was starting to have less fear of the Olo. There were 4 guys out, so I watched them for a while, the point wasn't really working, the surf was lumpy and unpredictable, the surfers were having a good time doing airs and stuff, the last thing they needed was a clown like me swinging 13ft of wood around, the last thing I wanted to do was go out there a swing 13foot of wood amongst them, I ummed and arrrred too long, I burned up all my time, maybe we should just head back. So all back in the car and as we left a young dog, your classic kiwi mutt that must have belonged to one of the surfers started following us up the track back to the main road, I didn't think anything of it until seeing from the rear view mirror about 2km down SH1, the bloody thing was still chasing us and going like the clappers. Feeling slightly responsible, fearing for the dog's life and getting bored of hearing Mrs Earinfector's mum's ranting about how irresponsible the dog's owners were I thought best to turn round and give the dog a lift back to the beach. 
The 4 surfers were now out of the water, I dropped off the dog who promptly got a good thrashing, at which point Baby Earinfector started to demand food and Mrs Earinfector's mum was getting restless and wanted to walk our dog along the beach, looks like we'd be stuck here for a little while, I had maybe an hour or so, maybe I should surf the Olo?
So I paddle out first on the mini mal to scope the place out. It's quite good fun, there's no defined takeoff point so I'm doing a fair bit of paddling around, it's worth it, there's some good rides amongst all the chaos, although I'm glad I'm not out here with 13ft of wood and 4 other guys. I am pressed for time though, and this is kaikoura, it's a cold day, it's remote, I'm on my own and there's a funny shaped bit of kelp in the corner of my eye that's giving me The Fear. Time to swap boards.
It was a lot of board to lug down to the river mouth, I was pretty nervous, it was small, but I've very little experience at this break, I really didn't want to get caught out, I really didn' t want to wreck the Olo! I had to time it right, I knew I could make it, I just had no idea what was going to happen if I didn't, there's a lot of rocks around here and this is a lot of board!
Getting out was a breeze, of course it was going to be, the waves were small, what was I worrying about? The old heart is still racing though, still got to catch a wave, still got to get back in through that dumping shore break without getting speared by the pointy end, and that bit of kelp is still giving me the fear. I want to make this fast, paddling around trying to find position isn't easy, I'm really glad there aren't 4 other guys in the water, I paddle for a few, miss them, get caught out by one or two sneaky ones, get broadsided a couple of times not turning round quick enough, capsized, keel hauled& generally floundering around, I'm glad no one is watching this.
Finally my wave comes, they're funny shaped waves, quite malformed, look quite steep like a fat wedge of water, quite angular with no nice curl, doesn't look like the Olo is going to fit, looks like I'm going to bury the nose and get chucked head first, but I don't. The take off is great, this really is powersurfing, turning at the bottom is nice and smooth, I'm sure I can hear the sound of thunder, or is it the riff from Iron Man by Black Sabbath? Maybe it's just the cattle truck crossing the bridge. The board starts guiding me straight and true along the face of the wave, what a ride, wish I had more time but the beach is fast approaching and I'm riding high up out the water as the wave starts to wall up in preparation to dump it's all on the beach, maybe I could ride this thing right onto the sand to safety? Erm maybe not, I kind of out run the wave and fade out. Trying to get of the water through that beach dump at Kahutara has always been an interesting experience for me, I always approach it with confidence and a definite plan of attack, but there's always a point where things go wrong, and I always find myself in a point of no return, knowing that in less than a second one way or another I will be back on dry land, I always get out alright, I just wish it could be under my own terms. Being sucked into the pit of a shingle spitting 8ft wall of frothing whitewater is not the place to start swinging 13ft of wood around, I'll really need to keep track of where that pointy end is. Turns out it was easy, I kind of breast stroked my way in with the fin in my right arm, got lifted and dumped on the sand, I hit the ground running, the water chasing me up the steep sand whilst at the same time carrying the weight of the board by the nose. Piece of cake. That'll do me.
Baby Earinfector was looking contented after her feed, Mrs Earinfector had done a fine job of taking pics from the back seat of the car with a baby hanging off her breast, good work babe! Earinfector's mother-in-law was just getting back from her stroll, the dog looked happy. Now that's good timing ... selfishly surfing whilst maintaining family harmony, time to go home and put the kettle on.
Many thanks to Dumbell for suggesting I take the Olo to Kaiks with me, the surf dog for fetching me back, and Roy for sharing his board and Phoam for blogging it all!
This isn' t so much a tale of great surfing more the mutterings on a family day out with the Olo by a kook who got lucky.
Travelling up to Kaikoura for the weekend with Mrs Earinfector, Mrs Earinfector's Mum and Baby Earinfector and our dog, in snow and storm force southerlies, strapping the Olo to the roof of the car seemed pretty pointless. Nevertheless I was looking forward to our little adventure and felt privileged to having had the chance to take care of it for a short while, so who cares if I got to ride it or not.
We sailed up from ChCh on Friday night with the wind behind us and had a bit of a late start on Saturday after tending to all the things that need tending to with a newborn baby and mother-in-law. Mangamanu's just down the road, and is quite picturesque and as good a place as any to kick of a day of sightseeing, and I'd also be able to get a handle on what the ocean had planned for the day.
We stopped for few photos of some seals, it was a cold and windy but otherwise fine day. There were hefty swell lines rolling into Mangas but the wind was slashing it to bits, there was no chance I was heading out in that. At least I could now relax and get on with enjoying the day with the family.
So we went into town, had a look round the shops, had a nice lunch of crayfish by the beach out by the peninsular, took some more photos of seals, stood on the cliffs looked out at the tempestuous wind whipped sea and huge barrelling waves crashing on the rocks below. Nah, I won't be surfing today. Phew. Time was getting on and perhaps we should head back to the house, Kahutara wasn't exactly on the way but luckily I was the only one in the car with any sense of direction, so my suggestion of just quickly calling in at this nice beach on the way back went down quite well. We got onto the beach by the rivermouth, I was quite surprised and a little disappointed with what was there, it was less than head high, at the same time I was pleased though, it was a simple paddle, I was starting to have less fear of the Olo. There were 4 guys out, so I watched them for a while, the point wasn't really working, the surf was lumpy and unpredictable, the surfers were having a good time doing airs and stuff, the last thing they needed was a clown like me swinging 13ft of wood around, the last thing I wanted to do was go out there a swing 13foot of wood amongst them, I ummed and arrrred too long, I burned up all my time, maybe we should just head back. So all back in the car and as we left a young dog, your classic kiwi mutt that must have belonged to one of the surfers started following us up the track back to the main road, I didn't think anything of it until seeing from the rear view mirror about 2km down SH1, the bloody thing was still chasing us and going like the clappers. Feeling slightly responsible, fearing for the dog's life and getting bored of hearing Mrs Earinfector's mum's ranting about how irresponsible the dog's owners were I thought best to turn round and give the dog a lift back to the beach. 
The 4 surfers were now out of the water, I dropped off the dog who promptly got a good thrashing, at which point Baby Earinfector started to demand food and Mrs Earinfector's mum was getting restless and wanted to walk our dog along the beach, looks like we'd be stuck here for a little while, I had maybe an hour or so, maybe I should surf the Olo?
So I paddle out first on the mini mal to scope the place out. It's quite good fun, there's no defined takeoff point so I'm doing a fair bit of paddling around, it's worth it, there's some good rides amongst all the chaos, although I'm glad I'm not out here with 13ft of wood and 4 other guys. I am pressed for time though, and this is kaikoura, it's a cold day, it's remote, I'm on my own and there's a funny shaped bit of kelp in the corner of my eye that's giving me The Fear. Time to swap boards.
It was a lot of board to lug down to the river mouth, I was pretty nervous, it was small, but I've very little experience at this break, I really didn't want to get caught out, I really didn' t want to wreck the Olo! I had to time it right, I knew I could make it, I just had no idea what was going to happen if I didn't, there's a lot of rocks around here and this is a lot of board!
Getting out was a breeze, of course it was going to be, the waves were small, what was I worrying about? The old heart is still racing though, still got to catch a wave, still got to get back in through that dumping shore break without getting speared by the pointy end, and that bit of kelp is still giving me the fear. I want to make this fast, paddling around trying to find position isn't easy, I'm really glad there aren't 4 other guys in the water, I paddle for a few, miss them, get caught out by one or two sneaky ones, get broadsided a couple of times not turning round quick enough, capsized, keel hauled& generally floundering around, I'm glad no one is watching this.
Finally my wave comes, they're funny shaped waves, quite malformed, look quite steep like a fat wedge of water, quite angular with no nice curl, doesn't look like the Olo is going to fit, looks like I'm going to bury the nose and get chucked head first, but I don't. The take off is great, this really is powersurfing, turning at the bottom is nice and smooth, I'm sure I can hear the sound of thunder, or is it the riff from Iron Man by Black Sabbath? Maybe it's just the cattle truck crossing the bridge. The board starts guiding me straight and true along the face of the wave, what a ride, wish I had more time but the beach is fast approaching and I'm riding high up out the water as the wave starts to wall up in preparation to dump it's all on the beach, maybe I could ride this thing right onto the sand to safety? Erm maybe not, I kind of out run the wave and fade out. Trying to get of the water through that beach dump at Kahutara has always been an interesting experience for me, I always approach it with confidence and a definite plan of attack, but there's always a point where things go wrong, and I always find myself in a point of no return, knowing that in less than a second one way or another I will be back on dry land, I always get out alright, I just wish it could be under my own terms. Being sucked into the pit of a shingle spitting 8ft wall of frothing whitewater is not the place to start swinging 13ft of wood around, I'll really need to keep track of where that pointy end is. Turns out it was easy, I kind of breast stroked my way in with the fin in my right arm, got lifted and dumped on the sand, I hit the ground running, the water chasing me up the steep sand whilst at the same time carrying the weight of the board by the nose. Piece of cake. That'll do me.
Baby Earinfector was looking contented after her feed, Mrs Earinfector had done a fine job of taking pics from the back seat of the car with a baby hanging off her breast, good work babe! Earinfector's mother-in-law was just getting back from her stroll, the dog looked happy. Now that's good timing ... selfishly surfing whilst maintaining family harmony, time to go home and put the kettle on.Many thanks to Dumbell for suggesting I take the Olo to Kaiks with me, the surf dog for fetching me back, and Roy for sharing his board and Phoam for blogging it all!
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Thanks for the ride... shaka
Homer's Take:
I was very excited when I was invited to ride this monster of a board, as I had been overseas for most of its time in Dunedin and had missed out so far.
I awoke the morning of the big day to find the large south swell we had was still hanging around, this was a concern as I had no idea what this board would ride or paddle like.
I made my way to the chosen spot to find Jay already had the olo in the water - seeing this I grabbed my 9'1 woodie and started to paddle out getting worked and having to make my way back to the channel for another attempt.
Finally making it out the back the last thing I wanted was another 4 feet of board, but that's what I got.
I was now seeing this beautiful board for the first time, I was on it, out the back, freaking out.
I paddled about 20 metres further out the back, to make sure no clean up sets would touch me. The board felt great I love the concave deck its so comfortable, like it was made for me.
Now sitting way out the back I double check the legrope and wait.
First set comes and goes I have realised this board is massive I was unable to turn it around in time, I have ridden an eleven footer a few times but this feels much bigger.
Here comes a wave I start paddling with what seemed like no chance at all of catching it, this board is such a good paddler not a wobble just straight line speed and before I knew it I was on the wave,
standing and racing down the face with complete control, which was surprising, it now felt smaller, still big, but smaller, one step forward and it takes off planeing so stable and smooth not feeling any back wash or anything.
Seeing a section in the wave I crouched to absorb the impact and held my breath...
there was no impact, and upon opening my eyes I noticed I was around the section and still going, one step back and into a cutback, surprise again this board can turn!
I wonder what the fin is like... Back into the whitewash I try to turn and the board has other plans and goes straight.
Popping up after being dragged along behind the board underwater I realise I had forgotten to breathe again - after that section my heart was racing with adrenalin.
Struggling to stand or walk I dragged myself onto dry land so I could take a look at my new love.
This board is such a work of art beautiful to look at and ride, I'm so happy I got some swell to try it out on, but I'm upset we chose its last day in town to begin our love affair.
Thanks for the ride... shaka.
Enjoy the rest of your hikoi Olo.
I was very excited when I was invited to ride this monster of a board, as I had been overseas for most of its time in Dunedin and had missed out so far.
I awoke the morning of the big day to find the large south swell we had was still hanging around, this was a concern as I had no idea what this board would ride or paddle like.
I made my way to the chosen spot to find Jay already had the olo in the water - seeing this I grabbed my 9'1 woodie and started to paddle out getting worked and having to make my way back to the channel for another attempt.
Finally making it out the back the last thing I wanted was another 4 feet of board, but that's what I got.
I was now seeing this beautiful board for the first time, I was on it, out the back, freaking out.
I paddled about 20 metres further out the back, to make sure no clean up sets would touch me. The board felt great I love the concave deck its so comfortable, like it was made for me.
Now sitting way out the back I double check the legrope and wait.
First set comes and goes I have realised this board is massive I was unable to turn it around in time, I have ridden an eleven footer a few times but this feels much bigger.
Here comes a wave I start paddling with what seemed like no chance at all of catching it, this board is such a good paddler not a wobble just straight line speed and before I knew it I was on the wave,
standing and racing down the face with complete control, which was surprising, it now felt smaller, still big, but smaller, one step forward and it takes off planeing so stable and smooth not feeling any back wash or anything.
Seeing a section in the wave I crouched to absorb the impact and held my breath...
there was no impact, and upon opening my eyes I noticed I was around the section and still going, one step back and into a cutback, surprise again this board can turn!
I wonder what the fin is like... Back into the whitewash I try to turn and the board has other plans and goes straight.
Popping up after being dragged along behind the board underwater I realise I had forgotten to breathe again - after that section my heart was racing with adrenalin.
Struggling to stand or walk I dragged myself onto dry land so I could take a look at my new love.
This board is such a work of art beautiful to look at and ride, I'm so happy I got some swell to try it out on, but I'm upset we chose its last day in town to begin our love affair.
Thanks for the ride... shaka.
Enjoy the rest of your hikoi Olo.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
bye from Dunedin
phoam's take:
Today was the last session on the '13ft of wood', and the remnants of the big south swell greeted us in the morning with a light offshore grooming some solid 4ft peelers.
A collection of classic boards lay across the beach, and the session turned into a morning of board swapping amongst the crew.
Still to come a post on Homers' session on the Olo this day.
surfscabs take:
Well i Shouldn't say so but I'm glad to see the Future primitive go.
We have had the pleasure of riding a beautifully crafted Surfboard but personally it is damn hard work and adrenalin inducing to ride on big days .
Paddling out meant finding a spot with a workable channel and a good long period swell so you could time your 'go out' well,
Even then a couple of times i had to paddle so hard i felt i was going to pop a heart valve.
Catching waves apart from turning it around was hell fun and adrenalising and she felt stable as a table on the wave!
Fast ?
dunno don't care surfing's about more than size and speed and i cant be bothered entering the debate.
One in my Quiver?
Well I'm building one of Roys boards next summer though it will be shorter and more intended for all round surfing!
The Pipeline Claim?
I've never surfed pipe not sure i could so who am i to comment!
But i'd sure love to see it dropping in at pipe.
Thank you very much Roy !
you've got a good heart to let us all test pilot such a lovely board and i hope someone gets shacked on it!
Surfscab
Last session photos:
Below- the Spot
Paddling out ...
Above scab punching through & another easy wave
Above scabs last wave.
Hayley's Take:
I had heaps of fun on the big log, It's very hard to turn It just wants to
go straight but guess thats what It's made to do hold it's line in big
pitting waves.
I only took it out in 1ft white water reforms so can't comment
to much on it, but one other thing was it paddles real fast.
Caitlin caught a few last waves as well as me. And Mike with the wood.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Update
Sorry folks but there has been no news lately
been a tough week with surfscab out injured
and co conspirator beano out with car troubles .
hoping for some more waves in the next week
then the dunno's crew
will arrange getting the board back up north soon as gas money allows.
been a tough week with surfscab out injured
and co conspirator beano out with car troubles .
hoping for some more waves in the next week
then the dunno's crew
will arrange getting the board back up north soon as gas money allows.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Thirteen and a half
Today i decided it'd be fun to take out the Olo and 'Blurple' a 7'4" single fin pintail that really is my favorite board.
So essentially i was aiming for two single fin pintals, one half scale, same day, same surf, sets reaching double overhead..scene set! lets surf.
Rock paper scissors not needed i got the Olo and started the paddle out which is a weird set up seeing you paddle between two rocks and over some shallow shelves covered in bull kelp,
today the water was doing a damn fine version of a washing machine and i'm not afraid to say i was nearly getting bucked off the board and turned around just at the time when i wanted to paddle like mad to shoot the gap between sets.
Once out the back it was back to good old olo country just picking a wave well in advance and committing as the waves were tending to be a bit more sectiony with backwash off the rocks.
with only three of us out and knowing the spot well paddling deep and stealing set wave was working a treat for me.
Switching it up with Blurple saw me wondering where the flotation was on my shortboard but first wave it all fell into place and i'll say speed wise the olo seemed about the same but when i stalled the shortboard and got back on the gas it powered away nicely where as i noticed on the olo it seemed when i stalled it i tended to get myself in trouble trying to get it to get moving again.
*any suggestions as to wether i should even be stalling (it seems easier than cutting back) or how to get the speed back on quicker gladly accepted and attempted.
anyhow DOH seemed okay as far as catching/riding but damn hard work .
Disclaimer. get over it! :)
So essentially i was aiming for two single fin pintals, one half scale, same day, same surf, sets reaching double overhead..scene set! lets surf.
Rock paper scissors not needed i got the Olo and started the paddle out which is a weird set up seeing you paddle between two rocks and over some shallow shelves covered in bull kelp,
today the water was doing a damn fine version of a washing machine and i'm not afraid to say i was nearly getting bucked off the board and turned around just at the time when i wanted to paddle like mad to shoot the gap between sets.
Once out the back it was back to good old olo country just picking a wave well in advance and committing as the waves were tending to be a bit more sectiony with backwash off the rocks.
with only three of us out and knowing the spot well paddling deep and stealing set wave was working a treat for me.
Switching it up with Blurple saw me wondering where the flotation was on my shortboard but first wave it all fell into place and i'll say speed wise the olo seemed about the same but when i stalled the shortboard and got back on the gas it powered away nicely where as i noticed on the olo it seemed when i stalled it i tended to get myself in trouble trying to get it to get moving again.
*any suggestions as to wether i should even be stalling (it seems easier than cutting back) or how to get the speed back on quicker gladly accepted and attempted.
anyhow DOH seemed okay as far as catching/riding but damn hard work .
Disclaimer. get over it! :)
Offshore
The first two waves are beano (including the face plant) and then they swopped, and the next wave is surfscab, then two of his wipeouts, then then scabs soul arch wave the two more, actually when they are both walking down to the beach,you can see a short clip of scab limping from the fin chop off the olo a few days before. last wave was from the other angle of the switchfoot. then beano got it back with his slow big drop. then scabs barrel on beanos shortboard, then beano smashing thru the wave at slomo, one more beano wave and then the end, oh and that Fugly, my guinea pig, who was on the tape that got filmed over, he was at the end so I just kept him in there, because hes so special.
The music is by a brilliant Dunedin band:
Junk Shop Star
from their album 'Music for Headfilms.
Check out their myspace or download their music here
I love their sound, and with song titles such as stringer, twinfin, mindsurfing, railgrab layback gives it away that they are passionate surfers too.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
a few before the film
went out today and shot some film of scab and beano on the Olo.
Got a few pics on the canon too.
here they are for now, not sure when i am going to get time to edit something up, but maybe next few days. ~ phoam
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