Home Break From Phil Curtiss

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Jon Manss
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Home Break From Phil Curtiss

Post by Jon Manss »

I have been waiting for Phil to give me the OK to post this story he wrote. He wasn't sure any one would be interested. This story affects me personally, but it transends time and locations across the worlds surf spots. I hope you like this. I have been holding on to this for so long just waiting for Phil's permission to post it. Enjoy Jon

Home Break

A well-known, widely-travelled, surfer once said that locals are just a bunch of dirtbags that haven't got their s*&^ together to travel. I couldn't disagree more. Of course, to me locals are the guys that pick a certain spot to surf year after year because they live nearby and like the wave there and are too busy working and helping to raise a family to travel much. From that perspective, Mr. Traveller seems arrogant and spoiled.
If by locals he means the enforcers in the water (and out of it) that habitually start fights and destroy boards and cars to keep "outsiders" away from "their" spot, he may have a point. Respect is key on both sides of that fence. On the one hand, nobody wants to be told to get out of the water just for showing up at a spot. But nobody wants to sit back and watch the new guy take every wave that comes through either.
If I had to name my own home break, it would be Swimming Pools in Central California. Twenty-five years ago, I was the newcomer (and still am, compared to some of the guys that surf there). It was the logical spot to surf for a kneeboarder....the way the wave bowls on the corner and sends a vertical wall peeling down the reef allows as short board to make full use of its planing surface and carve turns off the bottom and top. But I first had to work my way into the bowl, and the crowd, before any of that was going to happen.
I had just returned to California from my own travels, five years spent working and surfing through the South Pacific. And I came back without a board...that had been sold in Tahiti to help extend my adventures into South America. So I bought a used kneeboard and a cheap wetsuit and paddled on out to Swimming Pools. My most recent experience had been of third-world countries and surfing, if it happened at all, alone. So I was stoked about trying a known spot with enough people on it to show me how to approach the wave.
My first few sessions out there occurred without incident. I mainly stayed out of the way and grabbed a few of the insiders. Nobody really noticed my presence....or so I thought. I'd been hooting whenever someone got barrelled or made an airdrop and tried talking to people as they paddled back out to the bowl after a wave. It was mainly the same seven or eight guys getting the set waves, though there were twenty of us out. Those guys, some of them kneeboardeers like myself, didn't say much as they returned to the peak.
After a week or so, I started hearing the comments..."This guy, again? What's he doing here?" or...."Don't let him near the bowl. If he goes, just stuff him." or ".....must be from the university. (to me) Get out of here!" As time went on that first year at Swimming Pools, I learned that talking wasn't going to get me anywhere, to just surf and give those guys their space. I couldn't see the point of fighting over waves.
Fights did occur there, though. I wasn't the only one getting hassled by that crew, and some of the others responded differently. For a number of years, stink-eye, yelling matches, and fist fights were almost a daily occurrence at Swimming Pools. I came to understand that the spot was heavily protected. But I also began to find my own place in the lineup.
It started in the water. Still trying to stay out of the way, I slowly worked my way into the bowl, and, every now and then, caught a wave. their expressions were resigned, as if to say, "......guess he's here to stay". And they could see that I was getting better at riding the wave.....not blowing the take-off, making it down the line. I was still catching left-overs, but when one came my way, I knew what to do...I didn't "waste the wave". And I always paddled out alone.
Eventually I got to talking with some of them on the beach, after a session. They wanted to know my surfing history, why I was there, where I lived. And they told me about their own history at Swimming Pools. Some of it went back to the sixties. Most of them had grown up together here, through junior high and high school and surfing since they were nine or ten years old. They'd helped pioneer spots like Swimming Pools, when, especially in the winter, they and their buddies were the only ones around to venture into the water. Now they were trying to survive here, in a town that was becoming more crowded and more expensive to live in. For some, that meant starting families and careers. For others, it meant the semi-nomadic life of living in a van in their own town. And now their spots were being overrun with newcomers. They resented it, and they weren't going to let go too easily.
I began to understand a little better. These were good people, just trying to protect what they considered to be a limited resource. Though I couldn't agree with all their methods, I could certainly understand their motivation.
Was I becoming part of the crew? Not really....I hadn't grown up with these guys.....I'd come from somewhere else. But life was getting a little easier out at Swimming Pools. Some of them knew me now; I knew some of them. Others still made it real clear that I was not welcome but backed off just a little, probably because they were busy hassling other, newer faces in the line-up.
As I became somewhat of a regular out there, it became clear that there were days when it just made sense to look for waves somewhere else. Those sunny, mid-winter, perfect northwest swell days, back in the eighties, when there were thirty guys in the line-up and you could hear the yells and see the fists flying from the end-of-the-road checkout spot......why paddle into a battle zone? Right next door was another wave, not nearly as lined up as Swimming Pools, but consistent and nobody on it. So I'd paddle out to The Step and ride wave after less-than-perfect wave and let them fight it out across the channel.
Or I'd paddle out to Pools, but stop at the left, which had pretty much been ignored for years. On most days, it's not nearly as good as the rights, but it definitely has its moments. At first, people would grumble when they'd see me sitting deeper than they were, but once they realized I was looking at the lefts and leaving the rights alone, they put me out of their minds. It was a way to surf Pools without surfing Pools.
It was easier to talk when we were out of the water. Usually that happened at the end-of-the-road check-out spot. We'd talk story...surf spots we'd tried lately, trips we'd taken. Or sometimes about parents, kids, wives or girlfriends (or both), how the job was going, health issues that kept us out of the water, things like that. Everyone was just trying to make it in this town. For many, surfing was the stress-reliever, the one activity that helped put all the rest into perspective.
And when it came to emergencies, those guys knew what to do. When a young kid bounced the nose of his board off the reef and into his thigh, avulsing a fist-sized chunk of flesh and just missing the femoral artery, it was one of the Swimming Pools enforcers that came running down the beach to help haul him out of the water, while another of the crew made the 911 call. And when one of them had his face peeled away from his skull by the nose of a board, the others kept him floating and breathing as they guided him away from the rocks and onto the beach. The crew may get nasty out there, but I know who I'd want around me if I got into trouble in the water.
Each year, the swells came. Some were raw, created by storms nearby. Ugly, craggy faces would charge onto the reef at Pools and detonate there. But if you wanted to surf alone and picked the right faces to drop into, it was a great session. Other swells came from far away to the northwest or south and produced perfect, long-interval, six to eight foot waves that made Pools look like some dream spot in Indonesia. If one of those came through, and it was the first swell in a while, the tension at Pools was almost palpable....good time to go elsewhere and hope that the first day or two would mellow everyone out.
Sometimes, though, so many people would show up for the first day of a good swell that there was no point in creating tension. On those days, it was like a class reunion, with everyone who had ever surfed Pools in the water. People went right....people went left....people went straight...three or four guys per wave. And everyone mostly laughing about it all. If you got a wave to yourself on those days, it was simply a matter of good timing. But typically it was riding behind two others and slaloming between bodies in the water.
There were the early morning small swells that only broke on the reef at low tide. These could be really fun....there'd be just four or five of us out, calling each other into waves and hooting as one of us dropped over the mini-ledge and raced for the edge of the reef. Practically any swell that came to our coast would make Pools come alive.
As the years passed, the next generation arrived, moving up through the ranks and having a go at Pools. Some started out on the inside, laughing at each other as they got dumped on the reef and making sure they stayed out of the crew's way. They got space. Others barged their way into the lineup. If they had grown up locally (especially if they were related to the crew) and were making a name for themselves in the surfing world, they also got space. But the ones that came from elsewhere, no matter how good they were, didn't last long at Pools.
Of the hard-core locals that were there when I first arrived, many have moved away, looking for a place where it's easier to make a living or for less crowded waves. Of those, some return to surf now and then. And if any of the younger crew give them s*&^, they are soon set straight. Some still live here and surf Pools. For the most part, they've mellowed out a lot, though they'll definitely set things straight if the situation demands it. And everyone seems to understand their history with the place. Nobody gives these guys s*&^.
As for myself, I still surf Pools a lot, though trips to other waves up north have become more common for me. The surf up there has made my home break seem more user-friendly, wave wise. And I have now accumulated enough of my own history at Pools to gain some space too. That, and the fact that my white beard makes me look like some old man in the water.
Am I a local at Pools? Well, I could probably could be accused of being grumpy out there....a remnant of the old days when I learned it was better to keep my mouth shut and just surf. I do paddle deep into the peak, sometimes past others, to ride waves. And I've had one or two yelling matches myself, when someone kept cutting me off or snaking every wave that came through. But I don't think of the place as "mine", and most sessions out there are spent talking story and sharing waves. So, no, I wouldn't call myself a local, at least not in the negative sense of the term.
Just yesterday I was on the Big Island, talking to a Hawaiian father watching his three sons bodyboard their local reef. He was telling me about how well they were doing in local competitions and how he drove them all over the island, to wherever the surf was best. Then he said, "You know, brah, it's enough for me to sit here and watch them surf. And when I go out, I can let a lot of waves go by so they can practice. I'm an elder now. So are you. Always more waves will come."
So....am I an elder at Swimming Pools? Not yet. I still compete for the peak and want my share of waves. But I am more likely to let waves go by these days. Maybe in the future. There are guys out there, though, that let a lot of waves go by. They don't think of head-bashing anymore (unless forced to). They enjoy watching the younger generation rip. And when they do go on a wave, you can bet that everyone else lets them have it....and hoots for them as they carve their way down the line. If anyone is an elder out there, it's them. And they were there first. I guess it all boils down to respect at my home break.
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Post by Craig »

Thank you Phill 8) We can all relate, great read!








sTiLl a gROm :!:
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Post by toofast3 »

It all boils down to respect. Great insite
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Post by ross »

8)
I think Phil has done an awesome job of describing the plight of locals in a lot of places. At first i thought he was describing my hombreak.
I'am firmly entrenched in a crew that operate in the same way as phil's rock pool crew.
We have the same issues with people moving into town and expecting a place in what is an already crowded lineup.
The way Phil has gone about his business has definately won him a ton of respect. I've watched a few guys move into our town in much the same way. After a couple of years they are getting set waves and maybe even having a beer on the point with us.
But i've also seen guys move in, draw alot of attention to themselves, talk themselves right up and generally try to act like they know everyone(don't ya hate the two minute local who decides his best plan of attack is to befriend the lowly kneeboarder in the local crew.Thinking "he's sure to be in need of friends" :roll: ) and then proceed to wonder why they treated like the invisible man, every time they paddle out?
i'd love to hand this story out on a flier( don't worry Jon i see it took a bit of convincing to get Phil to do it.there's no way i'd reproduce it) to a few recent additions to my hometown. Because i reckon Phil has really done a fantastic job of explaining why locals behave the way they do and he has also outlined the best possible way to become a regular. good on ya mate 8)

and thanks Jon for posting it.
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Post by Steeno »

wise, great words...

it boils down to respect

8)
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Post by Gareth 2 »

As someone new to a area (3 years) you have to show respect to all the usally suspects and earn there respect and as phil said make the most of each wave you score and I always smile alot (I was out of surfing for fifteen years now I am one of the oldest grommet in the line up) :D
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Post by SFKneelo »

Really well done!

Like Ross is saying... distribute as a flier... or, if it's really 'surf SCHOOL,' on the required reading list!
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