Westport Mish - Christchurch Crew

Yesterday, I lost a friend. One of those friends that slipped into your life in a way that made them seem they’d always been there. They just sort of become part of you. You wake in the morning, you sleep at night, you know they’re right there with you; a part of your rhythm.

If you’ve ever lost a friend like that, you’ll know it’s a shock. Something you don’t accept at first, then later have to come to terms with. They even say the sense of loss eventually fades. Yesterday was a lot like that, as I helped Steve load the olo on his truck. The noreast winds were all over it and the waves were trying hard to live up to their name and purpose; knee high dribblers at best. I slurped at my coffee and made small talk with Shane. I pointed out that I’d sent a text message to five people. Maybe others would be coming. Steve turned up a few minutes later, and for a moment I was encouraged. But I knew this was is; the others had got up, looked out the window, seen the wind and turned the alarm off. The wind was already strong and the waves scarcely qualified. I should have stayed in bed like the others.

Not me, I’d got out there at the first sign of dawn. I wanted another session. I wanted others to experience the energy of the wooden wonder. I wanted to live vicariously their stoke and to capture it in my lens. I didn’t want that thirteen foot plank to go. For a month now she’s been in my garage, on my roof, underfoot. I’ve surfed nothing else. I’ve come to associate the sea with a rich, deep wood grain and have felt the tender soreness of seldom-used muscles reminding me of the heavy board’s presence.

Our dawn patrol turned into a sort of wake, disguised as an early morning board bag signing ceremony. Before I knew it, Steve was pulling out the drive on his way to Dunedin and I was left with nothing but fond memories.

Etched forever in the “once in a lifetimes” section of my mind’s long term storage file were a pile of grand visions from the month of the olo and this weekend past, and these have been cropping up to help me through my day of withdrawal. My last hurrah before sending the wooden warrior on to its glory down south was to make a trek over the coast, in search of some heavier water. Got in late to the campground at Westport and once through setting up camp it was dark, so the wave check would have to wait for morning. Across the reserve I could hear the thump of waves along Carter’s Beach as I drifted off to sleep. I was woken by the actual rooster’s crow from the paddock adjacent the campground – and the baby’s subsequent crying to herald the day. Eager to get a look at the situation, I trundled the wee girl into her car seat and headed off to check T-bay.

As the sun rose, a haze hung over the bay and long lines rolled in breaking well across it. This was only my second time here, so it was difficult to call the size without anyone out as reference, but it was clearly well overhead and I was charged with both stoke and uneasiness; not too certain about my capabilities with 13 feet of wood in these conditions. But I was going to find out. I headed back to the camp to put on a feed for the family and get everyone and everything together. As a side note; it’s not easy trying to organise a dawn patrol with an infant, a wife, a mother and a dog in tow. That said it definitely brings a new richness to the Surfari.

At T-Bay I headed out quickly, anxious to see what the mighty paulownia warrior would do in these bigger, thicker West Coast waves. Since I wasn’t real familiar with this place, I stayed away from the daunting-looking rip by the rocks, and chose to paddle out further down the bay where it looked safe. This would be my first mistake, and I’d pay for it by spending the next hour or so paddling… and paddling… and paddling. In between paddling, I’d get thumped by wall after wall of whitewater; rolled, flipped, tumbled and basically beaten about. Each time I’d make it out to the true impact zone some three hundred meters off the beach, hold my ground through a set and just about make the outside, another five or six wave set would explode on me and I’d lose fifty meters and take a miserable working.

After I’d battled for close to an hour, I relised I was now about half a kilometre down the beach and beginning to get caught in the sweep that would take me north through the seal colony channel and out to sea. It was time to reconsider my strategy. I paddled into the shallows and then headed laterally back up the beach; paddling since it’s so much easier than carrying when it comes to the olo. Cautiously, I made my way into the rip and very quickly realised I had been an utter moron for my earlier reserve. The rip was the way to go and with a little bit of timing I was well outside in about a minute. I sat out there for a while just trying to get the rhythm of the sets and taking some time to recover from the previous hour’s paddle-a-thon.

My first lesson in bigger-wave olo-ing came as I began trying to paddle for a few set waves and watched them frustratingly flow right out from under me. The wave at outside T-Bay is big, but it’s meaty and thick and its pitch develops slowly. Despite its monstrous length, the olo just doesn’t get in early and so I spent a long time gradually getting my nerve up to take off right at one of the big peaks, picking my way along the shoulders of set waves and gaining a little more confidence. I was feeling pretty good just getting into a groove where I thought this wasn’t too bad and I’d soon get a wave when the horizon suddenly did something really odd; it rose up darkly, menacingly and a long foaming crest developed well outside of where I was sitting. My stomach turned, and I paddled like a madman. There was nothing for it and the wave heaved over in big roiling sections well ahead of me. Recalling the working I’d had inside I knew I wasn’t up for being anywhere near the olo with this one, so I ditched and I dove and swam as deep as I could. The whitewater passed over me, then grabbed me and flung my eighty seven kg’s around like a doll in the darkness. About the time my lungs began to scream, my left leg was suddenly yanked violently back and I found myself being dragged by a massive chunk of wood at an unsettling speed. I think at one point I wondered what the headlines would read, and felt like an ass for dying while my wife, daughter and mother were on the beach watching. But then it was over and I was breathing and in one piece. As I tried to heave the olo around to point it back seaward, the next wave’s foamy blast arrived and I took another, smaller working.

That scenario played itself out several times over, and I found that with the outgoing tide I was having to head further and further out to sea, now sitting just off the rocks that form a sort of natural breakwater along much of the bay’s mouth. I saw something break the surface and for a moment had an intensely vivid recognition that I was surfing the West Coast, less than two kilometres from a seal colony and sitting all alone a long, long way from shore. Needless to say when the water beside me suddenly erupted I nearly shit myself – before recognising that rather than a great white’s gaping maw I was looking down at three hector’s dolphins. I took their presence to be a good sign, and indeed it was. Not three minutes later another horizon-warping set appeared and I stroked for the skyline hoping to avert yet another ten minute working. This one looked like it was shaping up to be a hell of a bomb and frighteningly, I was right in position for it. I sat way back on the tail, brought the olo ‘round and at the last minute I scratched for this beast, looking down what had become a watery ledge and committing fully.

I’ll never forget the view; some ten plus feet of board stretching out in front of me at an angle that seemed near vertical. I learnt in that moment that when surfing the olo in big water significantly more Organic Surf Wax than I had applied is necessary; I nearly slid right off the deck which was covered in water due to the board’s rocker. Somehow I stuck it though and found myself barrelling down this monster wave and trying to keep my balance at what was shaping up to be an incredible speed. At the bottom turn I looked up at a wall of choppy water that was definitely pushing double overhead and in that moment I was jolted with adrenaline and stoke and I shifted weight and was slung back up the face. The board had impressive responsiveness and felt very lively, surfing it well off the tail it was performing with a lot more agility than I’d ever expected. At the top turn, I rotated my shoulders and looked back and down a bit too far and felt myself coming off the top on a funny angle. The view down that ledge again, with the sense of losing balance combined to create a powerful sense of impending doom, and I bailed without thinking. I dove again, this time straight down into the belly of the wave and I stroked like hell to get away from the board. A beating ensued but I wasn’t flogged unconscious by the board and after several minutes of hell I was back outside and trembling with stoke. If I got only that one wave this entire trip, it would have been well worth the drive. I considered going in, but then the inspiration of Daily Dale Webster hit me and I realised I had to get three waves minimum. I admit that while I was stoked, I was also on the edge of my comfort zone with that last wave and a part of me was suggesting quite loudly in my mind that it was time to pack it in before I managed to get myself killed. In spite of that voice, the stoked part was louder and more convincing in his arguments, and I remained out there for two encore waves. Both were smaller but still well overhead and meaty, one offering me a beautiful long ride halfway across the bay which gave me the opportunity to really feel the board and tune into it’s performance in big stuff.

About the board, I noticed on that trip a few things I hadn’t before. For one, it was violently pulling left each time I went to take off. For a while I couldn’t figure this out and wondered whether Roy had set the fin slightly off. That couldn’t be it though, because when going right the board did the same thing that way too; pulling hard to the right getting ready to take off. I think I’ve worked out what it’s all about. As the board starts to lift with the face of a large wave, the extreme rocker means that the big fin pulls up and out of the water, and if the surfer is turned even slightly to the left or right the wave then begins to push the fin as it crests. This can work out very nicely, but also makes for an interesting twist in the timing and catching of waves. A couple times I got turned sideways so quickly that I had to bail off the back or go tumbling down the face with the board.

Another new experience for me was how the board gets thrown around quite a bit by chop on the face of the wave. By the time I was actually catching waves a solid cross-shore had developed and the waves had good sized wavelets running laterally across them. Because I was surfing off the tail of the board – where it’s most responsive – the result was that the front three quarters of the olo got tossed back and forth quite a bit and the whole thing bounced around a lot as it ran across the chop. This made it a rather unstable ride in comparison to a long, slender gun (which is the only sort of board I have experience on in such conditions). I left the session feeling totally alive, charged, and confident at having been able to manage these west coast conditions on the olo. I was gutted to learn that my darling wife had given up her photo vigil after an hour and a half of me not catching waves, and had only just missed my wave of the day after being distracted by a tourist asking her questions on the rocks. So the only images of my day out at T-bay are those in my mind, but those will endure forever.

The next day I wanted to get out again, it was smaller but a positively beautiful day. However this wasn’t a surf trip and there were family things to be done on Sunday, so surf time was limited. And, I had promised a local named Mark Perana that he could have a go. He’d spent a long time admiring the board the day prior and in the spirit of the Hikoi I’d offered him a go. So, today was his turn. Mark is known locally as quite an accomplished big board rider, so I was anxious to see how he’d go with the olo. Until Mark surfed it I had been convinced the olo couldn’t be ridden like a mal. Mark proved me wrong, quickly getting it wired on the inside and surfing it in classic old school mal fasion; drop knee cutbacks, cross-stepping, noseriding. He made it work a treat even in mushy little waist high lines well inside, and had what looked to be a blast on the re-forms along the inner sandbanks.

Then I motioned him out to the outside after a good long warm up, and he hit the rip to go have a crack at something with more grunt. It didn’t take him long, and he was into a thick, grunty outside line that sent him hurtling shoreward. It was smaller than the day before but still a lot of water moving out there and I could see this wave had some real power. He rode that wave through the inside and all the way to the beach after it reformed. The beaming smile from ear to ear said it all and I was swelling with vicarious stoke for his big ride.

On Thursday this week I took it out for a short session at Effingham in North Beach. It was a clean, sunny, offshore morning and the waves were peeling along the sandbank in zipping chest high lines. I caught a dozen or so real fun ones before handing the olo over to Steve and Shane for a while. This was to be my farewell session. Just being on that board is a different sort of experience. There’s an energy in that wood, a richness I don’t feel surfing anything else. The sounds the board makes as its hull moves through the water, the smooth feel of the rails, the way it just slides right into the pocket and speeds you down the line. There is joy in that olo. Later that day I took my little girl out on the board and she got her first “stand up” waves at 14 months old; me on my belly holding her steady as she stood to ride wave after wave for nearly an hour. Then later in the day my wife Stargirl – still just a learner – had several fun waves and one of her best ever on it.

As Steve headed out the drive with the Olo – bringing the joy of its experience to Dunedin - I felt a pull, a sense of grief, and a feeling of loss. It was that strange loss you feel when you’re sad that a friend is no longer around – but grateful to have been touched by their presence.

Westport Talk

TheRealGroovn
posted 17 March 2008 17:15
heyall... just back from the weekend over the coast, sun-baked, stoked, relaxed and tired....

Well you got the highlight already - but I'll give ya the details and the additional wave count when we're all unpacked and I have time to compose my thoughts, and a few photos.

Yep, Stargirl gets the kudos for following me diligently for over an hour and a half with the lens - more on what I spent that hour and a half DOING - and just as I scratched for that steamer, the tourist struck with a horribly timed question in her direction...

My first comment out of the water was "PLEASE tell me someone got that!!"
But alas, it'll be stuck in my head forever... photos would have been gravy.

I DO have some photographic evidence of a local having a go on a very meaty wave the next day, though not quite as big it's still the heaviest on the hikoi thus far.

More soon.... It was a great weekend and a great leg on the Olo's journey to be certain.

TheRealGroovn
posted 17 March 2008 18:20
HAHAHA!!! cool... yep, keerin loved the olo Roy! I pushed her into a few wee wavelets in a protected area of the beach. It was too messy and rippy and thumping to take her into the proper whitewash, but I want her to surf it before it leaves south island - probably here in some good ole chch whitewater with daddy hangin' off the back.

She just got a kick out of the thing, all grins.
a 13 foot olo that's so dialed in, even a baby can surf it.

incredibly stoked

dumbbell
posted 14 March 2008 13:22

Well, here's dumbbell's olo impressions...

A good, sharp power tool does the work for you - no force needed; gentle pressure gives a smooth, clean, effortless result.

I’ve heard mixed reports on the olo’s wave catching ability. So with comments like “It doesn’t let you in early” echoing in the forefront of my mind, I’m surprised when the board slips me into the first wave I paddle for with ease.

With the peak forming to my right, going left was the easy option, but I’d heard the olo was fast, so decide to see what she’ll do - probably a more sensible choice for NOT my first wave... But it just takes off, and with pickup like a rocker-less fish shoots past the peak as it begins to throw lip onto glassy green face. At this stage, I have no idea where the sweet turning spot is, so I mush a half-assed turn to the pocket and link the wave thru to the next steep section, before stepping back towards the pointed tail, taking the board over the crest as the wave closes out in the shorey.

Wave one on 13 foot of wood, and I was still alive.

Wave two was a little harder to catch - I grab the rails and pull myself forward to get the drop. In the time it takes to do this, the wave turns closey, and as I slip straight down the face, certain I’m going to bury the nose, the wave forms one long tube that ain’t going anywhere but down. Miraculously, the nose doesn’t pearl - I would have eaten it here on both my own boards. I stay low on the olo till the impact settles, and bail. I’ve heard the board looks after you, and I’m thinking maybe it’s true.

I miss a few, and see a set-wave peak coming over my left shoulder that I want. I’m a little late, and probably in for a rinsing, but three strokes and I’m heading right from the top. The sun disappears behind the lip, and I can’t believe I’m getting a cover-up on my third wave on the olo. I’m out, wobbling a lot, and like my old horse after a jump that’s gone pear, the olo gets back under me, steadies me, and carries on the green glassy way.

I have many more waves this session, till the tide hits that point where the outer banks stop working and the inside ones are dumping. I’m late for work. And incredibly stoked, thinking I’m gonna have to get this cheesy grin surgically removed.

Thank you, Roy. The olo’s like a sharp skilly or chainsaw. You put it where it wants to be, and it does the work for you. I’m looking forward to my next sesh.

The Surf at Effingham

Because I'm in Oz and it's a lovely day to enjoy the beach, I'm gonna keep this overdue update short and sweet;
My last go on the olo was Sunday, March the 2nd the day before heading out to the Central Coast, Australia for a week.

Conditions were shoulder to head and had some good pitch and pump, with an arguably perfect morning dawning. I txt'd the crew and Andy the photog with the morning report, and decided it was a perfect day to surf my local.... so off to the end of the street I headed with the monster board in tow.

I hungrily took the first shift this session and with a light offshore luffing lazily,

the sun throwing perfect golden backlighting and the sea a brilliant blue-greeen dream I quickly managed to get into several fast fun lefts.

The pitch of these waves gave me the opportunity to feel what the olo might be able to do in conditions more top-to-bottom and I admit this session has begun to shift my thinking about the board's capabilities in the tube.


I managed this session to find the "sweet spot" further back toward the tail on which the board pivots with amazing ease and the thing just magically finds the pocket almost on its own.

I got several speedy walls and was able to throw some turns and even a border-line floater at one point.

I traded places with Downsouth for a while, hooting encouragement to him as he got the feel for the board and eventually worked up the comittment to make the drop at the right, critical-late moment. Funny that a board that big won't actually let you get in "early" despite its appearances.

Downsouth caught a couple, spent a good while paddling it 'round and then it was over to Brighton Pumps who got a bit of a shocker at the difficulty of surfing the beast.

Today wasn't his day for the olo, but I think he enjoyed the go nonetheless. Back aboard the plank, I managed to find a few more over the next hour or so, culminating in a shoulder high duck-in tube that then transitioned to a flying-down-the-line soul arch while letting out a joyful whoop to end the morning right.

I'm starting to get that board wired, and find myself anxious to get it into something a bit bigger, a bit dicier, a bit heavier and see how it goes. Looking forward to a weekend journey over the coast - which is looking like T-bay next weekend.

As always, thanks Roy for investing your efforts and trust in this project. The hikoi is a truly unique experience and thus far I'm lovin' being a part of it!

~groovn~

Mega thanks to Andy at www.surfsnapper.co.nz who gave his time to photograph the guys from the water.
All photo credits above to him, don't they look stunning!

Dmand - 3ft howling offshore

yeah it went well...i think i under called the wave size a bit, it was probs more like 3ft howling offshore...

as soon as i started paddling the board felt good and fast...it just smashed through the walls of white-wash with ease....i got out back to see a few of the local old boys out there on mals all looking quite confused about me on this monster of a board they'd never seen before...they all paddled over and i was hit with the 20 questions....(as i sort of expected)....After giving them the rundown they just all moved out of the way and away we went..

..I got some real nice fast and long rides. I see what RG means when he told me it just finds the pocket on its own..IT DOES.
I got about 8 or 9 waves on it before I had to get out but all worth it.
My mrs took some pics but she only got 1 sequence because I was drifting down the beach and shes 6months preggy.

We are both novice on a camera but i hope Phoam can wave her magic wand over them and sort it out.
Im definatly keen for more time on it and I fully enjoyed the experience.

Thanx Roy for hookin us up...you are master craftsman and a huge credit to the surfing community.

stellar shots

TheRealGroovn
posted 02 March 2008 11:49

a FANTASTIC beauty of a morning. Water photog showed up and got a few stellar shots. He's gonna try to get one in The Press. Got a couple money shots of my lefts. Wasn't huge, shoulder-head high but punchy and steep. A great olo session, I'm starting to really groove with that big 'ol stick!!

Full blog writeup coming later today / tonite... gotta get packed for Oz!

downsouth
posted 02 March 2008 23:19

Being that the last time i was on a board more than 6-8 was 5 years ago, I found the board way hard work. What I kept getting snagged on was trying to turn the board into position when paddling. Was neat sitting out the back with all the insiders utterly afraid of me though
Groovn is definetly getting the board dialed and does it far more credit - I emerged from one duckdive to find him about 5 feet in front of me flying down the line.
Its a very different board to ride but am glad gave it a go - it picks up hell speed when going!

Good olo chat in the carpark at the end and the photos are looking real good aye.

Dmand - good to meet ya too mate

Mr Doofs experience

Sparing the details of how I came into temporary receivership of a Roy Stewart 13 foot Future Primitive would not be fair to the people involved. So, the short and sweet of it is this: Tom Bloke(Roy Stewart) in conjunction with Hunty and Groovn’ with feedback from yours truly arranged a time and place for a meeting and transfer of said object on a Sunday morning in Paihia, New Zealand. It all came together very rapidly, detail wise, within 5 days (and without the use of cell phones, yay!) and with a fair bit of trust considering no one had met anyone involved face to face. Thanks for the trust/goodwill, guys.


It was a muggy morning that threatened rain (and later the sky obliged with the traffic stopping precipitation) when my sweetie-pie and I strapped the board on the roof of the rental with the use of borrowed soft-racks from Hunty (and his friend who came along for the ride). How was I to know then that it would take me until the last full day of our trip to catch a wave on the unwieldy creation (which would be in two and half weeks)? Had I known that, I may not have been so eager to participate as board mule.

The first I got it in the water was at Lake Rotorua (Ragland was blown out). Not much to say really, except that it was pleasant to have nearly mirror flat water to paddle on and a bit of sulfurous hot water to soak in afterwards. Like most boards over 8 ft in length, it paddled well, and once up to speed, the mass of the board reminded me of being in a heavyset luxury motorcar. Sure, it seemed odd to have both tips (lots of nose and tail rocker on this board) poke above the waterline as I paddled about, but I really didn’t notice any drag.

First time I got the board in salt water was at a lonely beach south of Napier (beach’s name was ‘Ocean Beach’). Knee high closeout beach break with onshore winds. Camping shortboarder says, “You missed it by 3 days.” (Of course I did…just keeping my streak alive.) Every wave was the same: paddle, feel the board power up, stand, closeout, be forced straight in, feel the huge fin touch the sand, jump off to avoid damage. Not really what I would call riding. After 6 or such occurrences, I just paddled around for the exercise. Oh, the board makes mincemeat of the windchop.

Another paddle took place at the lake by Queenstown, Lake Wakatipu. Nothing special here to report, unless you count my sweetie-pie and I tandem paddling it. Having never done such a thing before on a “tandem board”, I really don’t have much to compare it too, though I think the narrow tail of this board was not conducive our experiment. After she swam back to shore, I paddled it a good ways out with 20 minutes of nonstop motion followed by a more relaxed half-hour back. Again, I don’t have much experience with larger surfboards/paddleboards, but I though I was moving along at least as fast as a canoe (which I am familiar with) that wasn’t being raced.

The next time the board touched water was at Taylor’s Mistake outside of Christchurch.

Groovn’ gave me the honor of first go, and having never been on it in surf of any note, I opted to give it the acid test paddle-out from right in the middle of the little bay, and off to the side of the main peak.

True to form, I timed it just right to receive a set in the face. Resorting to what meager brute force I’ve got, I didn’t turn turtle, I just tried to keep the bow into the face of the oncoming wave, and rotated my arms at the shoulder, and held on when needed. I thought I did a decent job at things and was soon enough outside paddling past the curious, imagining all the while that they were ridiculing me the board.

I went over to a right that was breaking closer to the rocks and away from all others. Not the best wave there, but hey, less chance for injury all around. And it gave me room to get used to things, like how the board ‘twanged’ when the short period waves and windchop slapped at the bottom as I wrestled with turning the board from sea to shore (I got better with this as time progressed, but at first, man, I missed the quickness of things with that homemade fish of mine).

First few attempts to catch a wave failed. I guess I was thinking that I needed more running room to get into speed to catch a wave, and this coupled with my inexperience where to position myself on the board, well, the waves just passed me by. Perhaps I was also being too tentative and not taking off at the critical part of the wave…something I’ve done before on longer boards.

So I rectified these things, and caught a wave. You’ve seen the pictures posted above; you know how unspecial they are, and frankly, I can’t fault the board for that. Call it ego, but I always figure that at first, if the board and rider aren’t in sync, then it is my fault, not the boards. No matter, it was good to get a bit of feel for the board and the waves by surfing and not by imaging surfing it.

On the second wave, I moved/walked around more, found better positioning with my feet, in turn was rewarded with more speed and a bit more control. It seemed that with a bit more speed, the board would respond that much more favorably, just like with other boards.


Two waves down and Groovn’ on shore getting more and more antsy, I just needed one good wave before we would switch roles and I became the cameraman and he became the test subject. After missing two good chances, a bonus set popped up, and I pointed the board down the line. Praying the very soft thick rails would hold even though it seem liked I was barely moving, I popped up and pushed the board down and into the waves.


That photo of me against the waveface belies the feeling I had a moment before: the board is just slipping out from under me…felt like the rails were not engaging at all, and that huge fin and pointy, heavily rockered tail were nonexistent. Then, the board gained forward motion, or rather the front half of the board did, or so it seemed….kinda like front wheel versus rear wheel drive. Maybe it had it all along and I was just too unfamiliar with things? In any case, that photo is right where my feeling of “’I doubt I am going to make this’ is turns into ‘I am going to make this’”.

The rest of the ride was icing.

Then came the hand-off to Groovn’, and you know the rest of his story (as detailed above).

I think the craftsmanship of the board is undeniable. Heck, even elderly folk at a few camp spots along the way who knew next to nothing about surfboards oohed and awed over it. I like nontraditional ideas, sometimes to the point of diminishing returns, so I can’t find fault with the idea behind the creation of it. I caught waves with it, so that proves you can surf it. I can imagine this board working pretty darn good in big waves, at least as well as those similarly massed boards that first pioneered Hawaii, though of course I have no true experience with such things. But I do know about riding some large surf in Santa Cruz/San Francisco, and given the room and a 3rd (and 4th and 5th, etc) chance, I believe I could ride it at large PP or Lane. I would not want to ride it at large pitching waves. I don’t know why a curious, better, and more gung-ho surfer wouldn’t want to try it at such a break (pitching wave at the take off) after a bit of test runs.

All in all, a lot of fun to test out. Glad I had a chance to give it a run, well, three waves worth at least). Thanks for giving me the opportunity to ride it, Tom Bloke.

Oh, in closing, regarding NZ surf, in one day, I went from the east side of the island to the west side; it was onshore on both sides.

(PS sorry for quick typing spelling and grammtical errors and awkward sentence structure...maybe when I get paid for this I'll double check things)

a short 8 year history then the Olo

TheRealGroovn
posted 27 February 2008 08:29

Here's my executive summary -
"For those with short attention spans"
The board was big, the waves were fun, it was much harder to turn and to move around with than expected, yet it was actually pretty easy to get out the back with. It's a strange and wonderful experience to surf a board made by a rather fringe-dwelling oddball craftsman I've known online for years but never met, delivered to me in NZ by a guy I also have known for many years but never met. I had a great time, and can't wait to spend a bit more time on the olo.

Nearly eight years ago, I moved to southern California, and I began my journey of surfing. Since day one, it’s been for me far more than just a sport or a hobby; it’s something far deeper. It’s about health, self-knowledge, discovery, humility… and about connection; to self, to spirit, to the sea. Connection.

Nearly eight years ago, I became a part of a tribe of humans who understand these things. Nearly eight years ago, I also began socialising with a number of these tribe members in the online world by way of a surfing bulletin board. There I first became acquainted with an eclectic craftsman who builds intriguing wooden boards by hand and with a devotion that I found impressive long ago. This was Roy Stewart of the North Island, NZ.

I won’t go into the details here, but suffice to say that yesterday as I stood on the deck of a 13 foot work of art in head high surf at Taylor’s Mistake on New Zealand’s South Island – the amazing interconnectedness of the story of its presence underfoot was not lost on me. Through a chain of events that simply unfolded over the years as by cosmic intention, I found myself in New Zealand with one of Roy’s creations; which had arrived in my presence via a circuitous route atop the van of a guy I’ve known for years but had never until the previous day actually met. Life is pretty damned interesting stuff when you really pay attention.

Duncan – the driver of the aforementioned van - had been all around North Island, down the South Island’s west coast and back up its east in the past weeks – and had been totally disheartened in terms of waves. Finding Raglan blown out, his fortune only deteriorated and the most surf he’d found was the wake of a boat on the lake in Queenstown on which he’d paddled the olo out for the fun of it. Christchurch had been getting swell for three days when he and his wife arrived, but it was accompanied by a stereotypical howling nor east which all but ruined the surfing. On Monday we rose before dawn and checked Brighton at first light. Some size remained, but it was chunky and misshapen, inconsistent and already onshore.

Loading the olo onto the station wagon, the former being nearly as long as the latter, we headed off in search of something cleaner and rideable. Scarborough was our destination and we were dismayed to find it not even breaking; a still-sinking near-full moon was pulling up a huge tide and killed any prospect of Scarbs working. The last ditch would be Taylor’s Mistake.

Coming down the hill we were encouraged and uplifted to see that lines were rolling through and what appeared to be shoulder to head high waves were breaking rideable through the middle with only about a dozen guys out. We hauled the olo out of its gargantuan custom board bag, already tagged with the writings of the riders before us in the Olo’s Hikoi so far and I got my first look at its full glory. Since this would be Duncan’s last shot at waves before leaving NZ, and since he’d ferried the olo around the islands for over a week without a wave, I insisted he go first and take as long as he want; I’d be on the beach behind the lens. Heading out to the beach the curious looks from bystanders began – and would continue into the lineup for the rest of our morning out there. People had an obvious appreciation for the thing, once they worked out just what it was. Though from some of the initial looks there was scepticism, I would later read a certain respect in the faces of those around us. Duncan picked a peak over the far east side of the bay where fewer people would present obstacles to negotiate, and paddled out. His timing led him directly into a set and where most would have been denied, the olo saw him through the whitewater walls with relative ease and he was soon out the back.

Shooting from an elevated spot on the beach, I was intrigued to see both nose and tail sticking well above the waterline, testifying to the extreme rocker profile of the massive board.

It took some while of paddling and positioning before Duncan went for one – it was clear he was getting his comfort zone for it. The first wave was maybe chest to shoulder and didn’t have a heap of pitch or power, but the olo cruised into it like a reliable old Cadillac and accelerated slowly but smoothly down the line.

He swept a few long arcing turns, then attempted a harder cutback and went over the side headfirst apparently discovering that sudden inputs to the olo don’t have the same effect as they do on a shortboard or even a modern longboard. His next wave was a bit bigger and had some grunt to it, he made a pretty nice little drop and the board once again picked up speed gradually, in the manner less of a sports car than of a 747. It gave the definite impression that once it was at cruising speed, there would be no stopping it.

His third and final wave was the wave of the morning between us; slightly overhead, pitchy and punchy he dropped in right at the critical point, and the board just slid right into the pocket with impressive ease. He’d later tell me that he’d found himself convinced he was about to eat it as the board had taken the drop so fast and furious he felt he’d be challenged to hang on. From the beach though, it looked fully relaxed, stylistic and in control. The wave walled up and gave him a nice speed run, then a few turns out the shoulder as he began to get it wired a bit.

Then he came in – having done a “Dale Webster” (3 waves minimum every session) and been happy and rewarded to have got that wave of the morning on the great wooden board. Now it was my turn. Duncan gave me no indication, no expectation other than “it’s kinda… well, you’ll see.” I paddled out. Timing the sets like magic I managed a dry hair paddle out and was amazed at how this smoothly and speedily the thing paddled. The efficiency of the olo when you’re in trim and paddling it is just incredible. I’ve never moved so quickly on a board under my own power, and it made getting out the back as easy breathing. Out back I sat well beyond the lineup, and had brazenly paddled out to the middle left peak – closer to the pack than Duncan. Being goofy foot, I wanted the bigger set lefts.

Beyond the impressive paddling characteristics, my first surprise was how much effort it takes to manoeuvre the great beast around out there. Forget about your standard longboard “windmilling” it’ll get you nowhere. It took sitting as far back on the pointy tail as possible and at the same time windmilling my legs and pulling with my arms and torso to get the thing to come round. As a result I missed the first few sets because my timing was so far off. Then I got the unpleasant experience of getting side-on to a set wave that broke just outside of me. This I dealt with by diving as deeply as possible and covering my head like a little girl; images of death by unconsciousness lingering beside me under the foaming torrent above. But I cleared it without problem and after being dragged twenty meters or so by the ankle, I recovered the board and began the slow and difficult process of getting it turned back round and paddling back out.

After botching several attempted sets I finally managed to get myself into position for a decent left. I’d noticed on the previous waves that I was still too far back on the board, and it wasn’t planing enough to get into the them despite a bit of push. Now, on this set, I found my eye level only a couple feet back from the nose. This was about the same positioning wherein I’d found the incredibly smooth paddling earlier. From up toward the nose, I easily got into this set wave and popped up and began to feel the momentum of the olo. Slowly at first, it moved into the belly of the wave and as it accelerated it gradually became more stable and responsive. I managed to bottom turn quite readily, with only minimal input to the board, then slung down the line and felt the speed continuing to pick up. Though this was a choppy, onshore day, the board felt nothing but smooth. After riding the wave basically straight down the line well to the inside, I found myself left off the back of the shoulder as a consequence for having timed the top turn wrong; initiating the turn too late for the big cruisy board’s preference, my ride was done.

On the inside I learnt how difficult it can be to get the board turned nose seaward, and I struggled for a bit as I bobbed in the impact zone with several waves bearing down on me. I quickly discovered it was a lot easier simply to let the waves pass over me, holding on to the tail and fin and pulling it down with me before the oncoming whitewater. That done, the wave’s energy simply melted along the highly hydrodynamic planshape and I discovered that I really didn’t get washed back much at all – much to my surprise. Once the set passed, I laboriously got the board spun back ‘round and headed out the back again.

My next two waves were lefts, though one of them I’d have been better off going the right. In both cases I was treated to the horrified face of a guy stuck inside of me and in a mild state of panic with the behemoth wooden board steaming directly at him. It was surprising even to me that I managed to avoid whacking him clean in half. The lefts were head high and fun, with nice standup walls and one of them a big crumbly section. The olo seemed to know what to do with the section on its own, and soon I was back on green face. I admit, it was the board’s doing, not mine… and beyond the section there was nothing for it but straight down the line. I’ve definitely got a fair bit to go before I have turning the beast wired.

My last wave wasn’t quite as big, but well-formed and notable in that it earned me a hoot from one of the guys in the lineup as I glided along with the warm feel of wood at my feet. The wave delivered me right to the beach, where I stepped off onto the sand – always a great way to end a session. It had been a brief but successful maiden voyage. I’d tackled some decent size and thump on a thirteen foot wooden board I’d never paddled out on before. I’d had a great start to the day with a new friend I’ve known for years but only just met. In some cosmic way I’d put up a marker on the path of life; signifying the intriguing interconnectedness of things that began nearly eight years ago, or perhaps much, much longer.

There will be more to say about Roy’s board. For now I’ll sum it up by saying that my first experience with the olo was rewarding, fun, unexpected, eye-opening and exactly as it should be.

the Olo in Hollow waves

Father Ted
posted 26 February 2008 22:20
For what it's worth I reckon the board will go fine in Hollow waves with the right person riding it, Truth be told you could say that about any board.
My experience with the Olo was that once you get used to it it's pretty easy to ride. It's big and you need to plan your moves a bit in advance but it's not difficult. I think Roy's right when he says it lights up in bigger surf. I thought the same thing, it was a lot like a regular mal in small waves but what would you expect really. No-one has made any claims to the contrary but I've got to agree with Roy that it starts to come in to it's own when the waves get bigger.

I'm a competent enough surfer I guess, I've been doing it for long enough and while I'm no ripper I can hold my own most days in the water. I'm not a particularly experienced barrel rider, I love em like anybody else but don't honestly get in many so on the barrel riding front I have to speculate a bit. I doubt anyone who has spent much time at North Piha when it gets a bit of size would say it was fat or slow. I surfed the Olo in waves that the majority of people on this BB would call 4-5' sets. The walls weren't DOH but not far off it and the drops were pretty solid. I was picking the lefts on the day and they were breaking fast, with the usual closeouts in amongst the rest. The thing that made it pretty easy on the day was the fact it was pretty long period swell so there was plenty of time between bigger sets to gather myself and there was a pretty good rip to use to get out the back but it was still farken grunty.

Most people I see surfing big hollow waves aren't pulling lots of turns, their turns tend to be longer and more drawn out and if they are in the barrel they tend to be focusing on making the most of it with an exit being the end goal, ripping turns in there doesn't seem to matter so much. If its big and lumpy most guys barely turn at all if the truth be told because their trying hard to stay firmly on the board and not get bounced off. There's plenty of footage on youtube that will show you that, the footage that was posted the other day of Waimea would back it up if anyone wants to look.

I didn't follow the original debarcle on the other forums so I'm not 100% certain as to what was claimed about the board and I haven't got an agenda to push but having ridden it in grunty waves I think Roys ideas have some merit, they just need to be tested by the right person. I'm also no board designer but I've got a laymans perspective.
So why do I think the board might go OK with the right guy riding it...
-its long and it paddles fast, you can get in and riding nice and early. I have no doubt that the board could get into this position if someone was game to put it there. (not pipe admitedly)

-its planeshape isn't too dissimilar to a Brewer gun and I think most would say Brewer is one of the best shapers out ther for the purpose. The board below is called a Brewer Pipeliner.

- it's got a bit of weight in it but it's pretty light for a board of its length. I reckon the weight factor will help it in a bit of chop and that it would help the rider from being bounced around.
- the pin tail and that massive muther fin are going to help it hold its line.
- the rocker curve unquestionably allows the board to flow with the shape of the wave. This was illustrated pretty well to me by Merc (who used to post here a bit) I wish I could explain it like he did but I wouldn't do it justice. Having ridden the board, I know it will pull in appropriately on a steep face
-I was pretty unsure about the rails, and cant really comment as I would naturally assume that sharper would be better, however on the waves that I had it in there was never any question as to whether or not they bit in enough

There's no question in my mind that the Olo would handle these waves Classic old Pipe as well as what is being ridden on the day it was filmed.

From what I hear abot pipe you need to adjust your line a lot while you are in the barrel and things happen very quickly when you are in there. I am certain that the board could get someone in the barrel, it would make the drop no question and I'd be absolutely shocked if a competent rider couldn't make the bottom turn. The question for me is whether it would be long and heavy enough to freight-train the warps in the wave once you are in there in a point and shoot kind of way or whether you would still need to be able to make the subtle adjustments that I hear you need on a shorter board. If you did you would need a pretty good surfer to be riding it but I guess thats the same for any person on any board at Pipe.
I'm just glad I got to take it out in something solid. I loved it, wouldn't change to riding one exclusively and you have to remember that it's a completely different style of boardriding than shortboarding but if I had it in my garage I'd ride it more than I would have ever thought before the experience and it would be in larger waves rather than the small stuff that was in the photo's. I wish I'd been able to get that Piha day photographed now, but even that only captures a moment. I'm looking forward to the Dunedin leg - or Spuds, that will let us know for sure but meanwhile the debate will continue won't it?

Would I ride it at Pipe? I don't think I'd paddle out in the sort of waves everyone visualises when they think of Pipe.
Could Darrick, Tony Moniz, Laird, Brock or any of those guys shoot tubes with it? I don't doubt it for a minute.

real fun experience the first try

TheRealGroovn
posted 25 February 2008 19:10
"Only managed four waves on my first go out - but only spent about 40 mins out there. Just enough to learn how incredibly much EFFORT it takes to do anything on that board. On a couple of them I began to sense the speed it wants to get up, and I could see how a nice BIG fat wave would be a true blast on it. That said, I don't think I'd want to be on that board in any significant size plus heaps of pitch, or where things really change quickly... as near as I can tell, surfing the olo is about subtle anticipation of what the wave is going to be doing, and being well ahead of it with your inputs...

That said, it was a real fun experience the first try, we were happy to have a wee bit of size to work with and I look forward to spending more time on it to get it wired.
Duncan managed to get a few nice ones - including the wave of the morning. So, he gets to leave NZ without getting skunked... fair reard for carting the olo all over the country and never meeting a wave big enough to surf until Chch.
More soon... we're all crunched right now - Duncan and Nancy preparing to depart the country tomorrow, me too but back on Saturday.
Will get some more pics off - none are incredibly impressive, but again at least a little size, some fun was definitely had, and we got a LOT of looks in the lineup. Including one scared Sh*tless look from a guy that nearly got run down by me and the THIRTEEN FEET OF FURY!!!

Thanks Roy!!

Arrived in Christchurch !

TheRealGroovn
posted 24 February 2008 14:06
"Update... well, unfortunately none of my communications to Duncan were picked up as yet - and as of about an hour ago the olo rolled into my driveway. A bummer... because I will be away part of the coming couple weeks. Would have been perfect timing for Dunners. Alas. We'll take good care of it here in Chch and work on the plans for getting it south - maybe when Phoam comes up in April?

I'll have Duncan give an update - but sounds like conditions along the way were marginal at best. Still the 13 footer's been out along the west coast, as well as two lakes!
I'm planning to get it over the coast before it leaves Chch... so chchurchians, I'll let you know when it's on and maybe we can organize a group olo celebration and bbq over the coast.

Meanwhile, any chch surfers keen to get out on her, give drop me a pm or gimme a bell.
More to come!!

posted 24 February 2008 21:29
dmand... it occurred to me you might be meaning 5pm... May not be back from hamner by then but you coule PM me and arrange something... if not tomorrow, then we'll hook it up - but drop a line if you'd like to try and get out tomorrow while there's swell. Probably gonna head out about 6am with Duncan - either brights or scumner. Anyone keen, pm or txt.

She's made it to the South Island

RoyStewart
posted 16 February 2008 19:17
"Just found a message at surfermag from Mr Doof who can't use his travel email, anyway he made it to the South Island on Friday and went on to Greymouth. . . missing Spud and co as he didn't get my email. So that's where it's at right now"

::Message::
"Ragland yesterday (13th Feb) AM had onshore winds and low tides, and while rideable, it was just barely so, and thus we pushed on.

Tuesday therefore brings of morning dew and hot water from the ground, and shortly the time honored bit of making a fool of myself by not giving a tinkers damn what others may think and I will go for a morning paddle on the lake with the board.

Friday (15th Feb) sees us making the crossing to the south, and then on to Greymouth.

Oh, and your friends from the Northlands were unexpected delights in their calm and reserved mannor...I felt like the noisy Yank I must be talking over the early morning din of the place we met at.

Anyway, Roy, thanks for putting your trust in me and we'll see what the future brings for the board.

Duncan "/ "

doof has the board

from the BB

TheRealGroovn
posted 05 February 2008 16:11
ok... here's the thing... if nobody on the NI is gonna front up, I have a possible suggestion - Roy, maybe doof has already contacted you about this, if so forgive the redundancy....

I've got a friend and his wife coming from the US departing this week... he's tossed out there that he could meet up with Roy, pick up the board and convey it down here to the south island. He'll also be touring round with his wife around NZ so perhaps there'd be opportunities for people to meet the olo and surf it on its journey with him.

Just a thought / suggestion.... I'd hate to see this Hikoi stalled indefinitely or die out altogether.

hunty
posted 12 February 2008 18:59
"yeah doof has the board roy, sorry been meaning to write the exchange up for the blog
got a pic of him and hiw wife with the board to post.Met them at paihia, had a yarn over a cup of coffee.Awsome couple, they will be on there way south with it at the moment.

(hunty has also taken some photos of the 'hand over', and will send them on to me to include in this post soon I hope) EDIT 27th Feb 08, photos added below of the handover to Doof and wife.