Laeahi

An Alaia I'm crafting for my brother from the winter of 35 degrees to the south pacific island of Oahu. This board I'm building for the waves that crash upon the shores of Laeahi, where the modern art of the Ali'i was born. With a little luck and some sweat, this board will slide fast and long, across smooth blue walls, hopefully becoming a good friend to my best friend.

C.B.

Luke

I drive a pick up truck, so... I listen to country music. Well I was coming back from the county the other day and this Tracy Lawrence song comes on: "You Find Out Who Your Friends Are," and instantly I think of Luke Berkey, who, incidentally happens to be Gabe's brother...

As you can see, Luke is quite the spearfisher himself.

So there I was, driving along nice and slow like and this song comes on over the radio box:

Run your car off the side of the road

Get stuck in a ditch way out in the middle of nowhere
Or get yourself in a bind lose the shirt off your back
Need a floor, need a couch, need a bus fare

This is where the rubber meets the road
This is where the cream is gonna rise
This is what you really didn't know
This is where the truth don't lie
{Chorus}
You find out who your friends are

Somebody's gonna drop everything
Run out and crank up their car
Hit the gas, get there fast
Never stop to think 'what's in it for me?' or 'it's way too far'
They just show on up with their big old heart

You find out who your friends are

Well I'd like to talk some story now if you don't mind...

It was thanksgiving day... lets say about ten years ago, and I had just recently become equipped with a drivers license. Now I've got a lot of cousins, but there's one in particular on my old mans side of the family that I used to get along with real good when we were kids,(we still get along good, only he's all grown up now with a family and a tractor) his name is Bobby(I believe he goes by "Bob" now, but we'll call him Bobby for the sake of the story). Bobby and I didn't get to see each other too often on account of him living far away in Maryland, so on the rare occasions we did get to hang out, we made real sure we raised some hell together. We've done a lot of stupid stuff together over the years, and had a blast doing it.

On this particular thanksgiving day I was stoked cause my cousin Bobby was coming for dinner, and I had a new license and access to my Dads old Chevy Blazer. All my family was there, my grandmother, my great grandmother my aunt Viky, my cousin Kelly, and a bunch of other people--the table was fully extended and packed from end to end.

The house smelled like turkey, and in my mind there's no better time for a quick adventure than when the house smells like turkey for two reasons; one: adventure makes me hungry, and two: after eating turkey you need to go to sleep for at least one hour. So I told mum, "Ok mum, Bobby and I are going for a quick ride in the Blazer down to the bay, we'll be back in a bit." And she replied saying, "No, Brian, you are not going for a quick ride to the bay, were going to have dinner in about ten minutes!" "You two can help set the table." I popped my head in the dining room and saw that my sister Leah and cousin Kelly were standing over the table with green and black olives stuck on their fingertips, so I told ma, "Ok ma, Leah and Kelly seem to have the table under control, we'll be right back..." I grabbed the keys, and ran out the door with Bobby close behind--dark grins lit up our faces.

(Pat Rafter told me that people would not read my prose without illustrations, so, at the risk of intimidating my artist friends I sketched these up...)

In all honesty, I did plan on being right back, how could I possibly know about all those crazy squirrels. Bobby and I took off down the road reminiscing about old times, both of us eager to have some fun. Now, near my parents house in Jersey there's this curvy old dirt road that ends up at a the Delaware Bay, we were on it in about two minutes. Driving very safely and slowly we made it all the way to the end of the road where there's this big culdesac on the beach. I pulled over for a minute and we had a nice long look at the water until Bobby noticed that some dangerous driver had absolutely ruined the surface of the road by doing donuts and peel-outs all over the place--not to mention skids. "How dare they!" he exclaimed.

We felt bad about the road being all rutted up so we decided that we would try to fill the ruts in as best we could. After spending some time trying to fill in the ruts with our hands I had a wonderful idea and told Bobby, "hey I bet we could fill in all these ruts way quicker if we just do donuts in the opposite direction..." Soon we were flying all over the culdesac, spinning out, peeling out, and doing huge tiger skids, It felt cool to be helping out society by fixing the road, and to be having so much fun while doing it. After one particularly long white tiger skid I decided that the road was about as good as it was going to get and that we should probably head out. Thats when it happened...

Heading down the dirt road at a very slow and safe speed, Bobby and I both noticed a large commotion in the marsh grass up ahead. "What the heck is going on up there?" exclaimed Bobby. "I'm not sure, but were about to find out I replied," as I floored it. Just then about fifteen or thirty seven squirrels came rapidly leaping out of the marshes, and one of them actually had a cobra in it's mouth. In an instant the wild beasts were all over the blazer, screaming and cooing in their natural native tongue. I was sure they wanted us for dinner, so I accelerated right on past a safe speed, and as I did so all the squirrels flew off the truck but one--the one with the cobra in his mouth. Somehow, this lone rebel squirrel clung to the windshield right in front of my face. It was right then that I knew I had to protect my cousin, and that only raw bravado would get us home in time for dinner.

The squirrel was a small squirrel as squirrels go, but had a particularly ferocious look in his eye's, like he knew what it was like to fight a tyrannosaurus rex... and win. The squirrel was a lighter shade of brown, almost hazel, with two pointy little ears sticking up, and two razor sharp, fang looking teeth sticking down--sunk deeply into the back of a young cobra. Just then I realized that the cobra was still alive, as he looked up at me with dark pleading eyes almost saying, "take me now, this freaking squirrel is crazy." When I saw that, I knew what I had to do. I looked back to the squirrel, looked him straight in the eye, and screamed, "I have the power!" And as I did this I cut the wheel hard to the left. The truck soon spun out sidewinder style, and I had to turn sharp back to the right to keep her on the road, doing this just made us slide out even more radically, so I decided to keep the truck from flipping I would have to go off the road a bit... into the marsh.

At this point the rebel squirrel must have realized that I did indeed have the power, or just that I was crazier than him because with cobra in mouth, he flung himself from the truck like a ninja, like a mad ninja squirrel. I wanted to look back and see where the squirrel landed, but before I knew it the blazer had sunk about three feet deep into the blackest meadow muck this side of the Delaware bay, with one great big gnarly slurp sound, like the marsh just tried to swallow us whole without chewin.

At this point Bobby and I had been gone for about ten minutes, so, we figured we needed to get back quick. I got out of the truck and took a look around--the squirrel was gone--the truck was cocked over sideways with the passenger side wheels buried gone in the mud-muck. I jumped back in, started the truck back up, put her in four wheel drive, and hit the gas. The tires spun mud all over the place, and made this awful slippery screeching sound. It was as if the marsh was enchanted by some witch of old, and her smug muck spirit was just cackling away at our feeble attempt to get free. Well, we had had enough of that, so we both jumped out of the truck and freaked out. "Damn, dang," I said as I kicked a stone across the road. "Man, this is nothing," Bobby replied, "In Maryland we get into stuff like this all the time--I'll get her out!"

So now I got back behind the wheel and waited for further instructions, while Bobby got some sticks and stuff and put them under the back wheels. "Ok, hit it," Bobby said as he climbed up on the back bumper and started to bounce. I floored it, and mud sprayed all over Bobby in his nice thanksgiving dinner clothes. It was obvious this wasn't working, so we changed positions, and soon enough I was covered with mud too. After messing around like this for about ten minutes I realized it was time to make a phone call. "Ok man, I'm going to go call one of my friends," I told Bobby as I grabbed some change, "you hang with the truck, I'll be right back."

I ran to the Wawa, which was about two miles away, picked up the phone and dialed: ...L...U...K...E...B...E...R...K...E...Y... ring, ring... ring, ring, and then suddenly, in his deep bass voice there was Luke, "Hello?"

(Thats Luke there on the left, sometimes I stand on rocks for photos with tall people.)

"Luke, ahh, hey it's Brian, ahh what's up man?" I sort of mumbled, knowing sure as hell what was up, it was about three o clock pm on thanksgiving day... "Nothing man, just having dinner at my moms, what's going on, why are you mumbling, everything ok?" he replied. "Well, yeah, kinda, well I kinda sunk the blazer in the marsh by the mosquito comission..." "Ha, you jackass," laughed Luke heartily, "so you need some help..? Well, man I don't want to bother ya during dinner, but yeah, my parents are going to kill me..." I pleaded, but I didn't need to beg, Luke is probably one of the most upstanding guys I have ever known, plus he lives for this kind of stuff... "I'm on my way," he said.

Luke didn't live far from where the truck was, so by the time he got to us, Bobby and I were still only about fifteen minutes late for dinner, and it always seems like dinner is about twenty minutes late, so we figured we could still make it. Luke showed up in a cloud a dust like a cowboy in his dads monster pickup, and within minutes had the blazer all rigged up for a tow. Now let me say that this wasn't the first time Luke has given me a tow, we spent quite a bit of time running trucks through mud together as kids, but this meadow muck was different. Luke tried from all different angles, he put that thing to the test, but in the end, that truck was stuck. Soon enough, I realized it was time to accept defeat, and asked Luke if he wouldn't mind giving us a ride back home.

Luke dropped us off at the house and I thanked him kindly for his efforts. We talked about going on a trip somewhere and off he went, I remember wishing I was going with him, but knew that I couldn't, it was time for me to face the music.

To this day I will never forget walking in to the house, covered in mud, and peeking my head around the corner of the dining room door. And there they were, my whole extended family, all merry and about halfway into a beautiful thanksgiving dinner. "Psst, Dad," I whispered trying to get his attention without letting my sister or Mom see. But, "Dad, look, it's Brian," my sister said before I could signal to her not to let anyone know I was there. I looked over to my mom, still leaning so that only my head was visible. "Brian Herron!" she said, in a tone I had heard before and knew well. "Mom I can explain," I replied as everyone at the table turned and quietly looked over at me hiding behind the door. "Come in here!" yelled my mum, causing my sister and cousin Kelly to smirk at each other... they knew what was about to happen. As I stepped around the door, covered in black mud I saw a piece of chicken fall from my Dads opening mouth, and as I saw my mothers face begin to turn red I put up my hands declaring, "Ok mum... wait just a second..., I can explain this... see... there was this squirrel."

THE END

STARTING WITH GABE

Been spending a lot of time on my own... eating, reading, listening to music, doing the dishes, stretching, writing, running, surfing, swimming, working... it's weird how the mind works when you're alone... thoughts--like plots in a Charles Dickens novel--tend to intertwine.

Lately, I've been thinking about the boys in Jersey a lot, the many adventures we had over the summer, and all the good beer we drank through the fall--when we were catching fish.

I was lucky enough to hunt with Gabe Berkey a few times this summer--got some nice flounder, and tautog via the spear.
Our Jersey kine harvest--ready for some cleaning, cold beers, and good friends.
Gabe with his new doormats(one for the front door, one for the back)--he made a killer ceviche for us out of that little trigger I got, with fresh Jersey tomatoes... there is no better tomato in the world.
Gabe is a legend... he loves life and chooses keep it as real as possible, after spending years and years living in rhythm with the natural world, especially the sea, he seems to have developed some kind of innate awareness of how to get what he needs, when he needs it.
Gabe took this fish when we were hunting the long jetty together. I remember swimming up to him right after he shot it. I came up on him in the water and flinched when I saw the fish. He was all charged up like a black lab with a duck in his mouth--just so stoked, and naturally proud. That fish looked different under water--like some kind of prehistoric beast.

PINE IS FINE!

JUST RECEIVED AN EMERGENCY CORRESPONDENCE FROM FELLOW ADVENTURIAN AND COMMON CAVE DWELLER:

JAIME HUNTER...

(I didn't have any actual pictures of Jaime on hand, but this is kind of what he looks like)

"yo!!! I just came up to email carol and got side tracked. So i thought i would let you know how my trip is going. Waves have been good, about 3 feet overhead, today about head high with some bigger sets, but the sweet ones are the head high ones. My body is red like a tomato. Pine is Fine! I have descovered that costa rica is alaia paradise. i can´t beleive how much fun this wave is on a 14 dollar peice of wood. anyway, the main point of this message is really to let you know that I have a new name for alaia´s now. The currious events and circumstances leading up to the name awakining in my brain, i will leave out, in attemts not to bore you. The important thing to know is that from this day forward i will be calling alaia´s Parabolic Whicky Whacky´s." Jaime

WELL, IT SEEMS THE PIG IS HAVING A GOOD OL TIME DOWN THERE IN TICO LAND, INTERESTING TERMINOLOGY THERE ABOUT THE ALAIA, I GOTTA SAY THOUGH PIG, I DON'T THINK THOSE "CURIOUS EVENTS AND CIRCUMSTANCES" WOULD BORE US ONE BIT, SPILL YOUR GUTS MAN... LETS HOPE WE GET ANOTHER UPDATE SOON... MAHALO PIG.

Surfing the Brow of the Yellowfin Tuna: with Adam Ayers.

Lēʻahi

Been fun surfing in town. The mustachioed fish cave brother created for me is working great in a wide range of conditions. (more on that later) Paddled out on the alaia a couple of days ago and was surprised to catch some criticisms from the pack.

"What the heck is that thing some kind of paipo board?"

"Uh, well, no it's called an alaia...

"You mean you stand on it?..."

"uhh, yeah...you live in honolulu and you haven't heard of an alaia???..."

"No leash huh...looks kind of dangerous...I'll have to make sure not to be on the inside when you lose it..."

"Yeah, ah well ok I'll try not to..."

I lost it on my first wave.

Running the Hills of Manoa Valley

I listen to music when I run. I like it. When this song comes on, I run faster...

Chuck Ragan is a Viking.

Alaia?

Still awake, can't sleep, looking at free stuff on craigslist:

FREE Solid Wood Heavy Door, 36” x 80” x 1.5” (Mapunapuna)

"Some very slight water damage at bottom and slight dead termites. Get it in Mapunapuna at 680 Kakoi Street, Door H at end of parking lot by concrete wall and dumpsters. Number there is . FREE"

This is what I see:

"Help me, please come and carve me out of this square shape, please ride me at kammies on a big day, I'm heavy so I won't spin out, please brian, I'm begging you--take a chance on me"

I dunno, what to do...

A Damn Good Day

There's nothing like a cold beer. Budweiser. I'm drinkin it, and by golly, I'm stoked.

Headed up to the country today, rode some waves at sunset in the morning--fun swells--got my ears cleaned for free. But it was session number two that's got me grinning--paddled out at off the wall with Colin.

Untitled from Brian Herron on Vimeo.

Snagged a couple of rights and realized Colin had moved down to Pipe. It was pretty small, like 3-5, kinda bumpy too, the crowd was minor, so I worked my way over there. Got in the pack and did a little jig. Got into position for a set, paddled, paddled, got in the lip and thought, "oh, ah I don't think I'm going to catch this wave after all, I'll just pull back, oh wait, oh ah I'm in the lip, oh shit, oh no, oh god no..." I would describe going over the falls at pipe like this: get a hose, then get up on top of a wall, this one was about ten feet tall, make sure the ground under the wall is concrete, ok, now splash some water onto the concrete with the hose, make a puddle, ok now jump onto the puddle.

But for real today was a tough day for my family. Today marks the one year anniversary of my grandfathers passing, that is, my mothers father...

Fred Patrick Dunn

The guy was made out of steel, no... he was made out of iron, raw iron. I dedicate my big wipeout to him, I'm so very proud to be his grandson.

GNAR PITS PT. II

C.B.

Tubular pound

a little snapshot of todays swell in LBI NewJersey... thank the dredge for the new wave

C.B.

THELANDOFNORUMBEGA

Until one is committed there is hesitancy,

the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness.

Concerning all acts of initiative and creation there is

one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills

countless ideas and splendid plans:

That the moment one definitely commits oneself,

then Providence moves too.

All sorts of things occur to help one

that would never otherwise have occurred.

A whole stream of events issue from the decision,

raising in ones favor all manner of unforeseen incidents

and meetings and material assistance,

which no man could have dreamed would have come his way.

Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.

Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.

--Goethe's Faust

Long ago, great bearded men from across the ocean set out in search of a new world. They sailed in ships rigged with square sails, and they wore helmets. They drank dark, heavy drink, and they lived each day as if it were their last. Many of them lost their lives to the marching swells of the grey, north Atlantic. They died quietly, with pride and raw bravado. The ones who made it across the sea were rewarded with fresh potatoes, sweet berries, and hot moose meat. They found a rugged coast, green with tall pines, and thick mosses. They did not come in search of gold or women, nor did they come to start anew and raise families, instead...they came because of a voice.

Deep within us--within us all--there is a voice which calls out from time to time. We feel it in our chests, in our very guts. It is the voice of adventure, the call of the wild. Some of us can hear this voice, but have not the zeal to follow it; others hear only a faint murmur of the voice, for it is buried too deeply in their bones--hushed away by fear and doubt. The voice is not nice; it does not make life easy--it will never lead us to the "easy way out." The voice does not tolerate mediocrity, or a stagnant, safe way of life.

This fall, much like their old Norse ancestors, The Herron brothers began to hear a murmuring from somewhere within themselves—a swell was coming. Generated by a fast moving storm this new monster swell was slowly making its way northward across the Atlantic Ocean and as the brothers began to sense the first tiny ripples of energy sent from this grand storm, the murmuring they heard at once grew louder. Soon the murmuring was a steady call, then a holler, then a scream. "Go north," said a voice to the brothers, "go up to the rugged coast, to the home of the grey seal and the cold bull kelp. Go beyond the land of Norumbega. Go...and you will be rewarded."

This caused a great dilemma for the brothers for there was suddenly many paths laid out before them, yet only one would lead them to their true destinies. The brothers knew that if they went south they would find big warm tubular swells reaching out over soft sandy shores. They also knew that to head south would be cheap and fast, for they would not have far to go, and most importantly, they knew their way. But, there in lies the root of why they could not take that path. It would be easy.

And so the brothers chose to head north. They knew there would be many hardships this way; 20 hour drives through rain and snow, cold air temperatures, and even colder oceans—rock and reef ocean bottoms, moose, bears, wolves, seals, and even sharks, to mention a few, but they knew they must not take the easy path, they knew they would not be able to ignore that feeling in their chests. And so they put their heads down and blindly followed that ancient voice of adventure against everything but their wills.

Some shots from the road heading north. The colors of fall stood out vividly against a fresh dusting of snow dropped from the huge storm bands that we followed up the coast.

Our quiver took up the whole back of the car--everything was thrown in with no regard for organization, we just wanted it all to fit. Subsequently we stopped at the border coming back into the states for a "visit," at 2:00am, after driving for about 10 hours after surfing for about three, all red eyed both of us, the patrol on duty thought they scored. I can only imagine the looks on their faces when they pulled up the back door for a quick search.