in pursuit

in pursuit from adam Herron on Vimeo.

I.D.W.P from Edwin Europe on Vimeo.

Outside

Outside from adam Herron on Vimeo.

Coolest guy on the internet by far. Check out his moto-art blog, SHINYA KIMURA

Honey Badger project photos and words coming soon.

Now that I own a motorcycle, I'm thinking about getting some leggings and joining some pagans.

Thanks Skillet, for the link.

MOTORCYCLES

MOTORCYCLES

Dad

My Dad has inspired me to love so many things about this life.

Hike

Fish

Surf

Sail

Journey

Explore

Adventure

Care

Give

Help

Fight

Stand

Sit

Play

Respect

Moto

Art

Music

It just goes on and on, but I gotta go, were sailing the boat down the bay. Aloha Dad.

Mine and Adam's favorite activity with the old man. Sit on the couch, watch boxing, drink beer. I miss my brother.

I watch this every, single, morning.

Saw this a while back on my buddy Allens blog. Had to steal it for my dog friends.

MUSIC VIDEO RIDING SEPTEMBER from Hush on Vimeo.

Jet Power Surfboard

Dammit, I actually had this idea a few years back after a session of pulling into close out tubes in the outer banks. My thinking was, what if you could pull into a closeout and engage some kind of jet on your board and fire through the barrel at like 60 miles an hour. Now that I've seen it done, it kind of worries me. Between stand up paddle boards and these things how are we going to catch waves in the lineup anymore. Mayhem could ensue.

Thanks mum for the link.

Back to Work

Here's a stunt from my first week back at work.

Stunts keep me sane, I do a lot of them, this one really made me feel alive. Expect more of these as there doesn't seem to be much surfing in my near future. I'd like to dedicate this stunt to mom. Happy Mothers Day.

Ranger Movie

Unlike my brother and myself who have had almost everything we have ever owned given to us, our old man didn't have much as a kid--if he wanted something he had to work for it. He's worked all kinds of crazy jobs in his life and has many stories about doing weird stuff like holding up targets in a shooting range, or working on farms chasing chickens, or laying bricks in Philly town. And so when it came time for my Dad to get his first ride, an old Austin Healy Roadster, he had to basically teach himself how to build the thing from scratch. Well he got that thing runnin and believe me he's got all kinds of stories about that car and how he used to jump the thing down hills, and race it all over town, and most importantly work on it. Well it didn't stop there.

Pretty much my whole life I've seen and helped my Dad work on all sorts of automobiles from old tear drop vans, to a nice Porsche 911, to countless Saab's, to all kinds of motorcycles, street and dirt bikes alike. Most of the time as we would work on these cars I would just hold the flashlight, or hand over a screwdriver, or wrench, or at times, a hammer, but eventually as I got older I learned how to do some of this stuff myself. I can remember the first job I actually helped on was when we replaced the clutch in our old red chevy blazer, how my Dad let me unbolt the thing and how when, covered in grease and cursing from under the jacked up truck because we couldn't figure out how to twist and turn the transmission the right way to get it out, my Dad actually asked me for my opinion and wether it helped or not, it was cool to bend my mind towards a puzzle he was working on. I really think these experiences have helped me a lot in life as I always feel like I can solve a problem, and if I can't I at least know how to string together a proper row of curse words!

Anyway I've seen my Dad do some crazy jobs on cars, from simple little oil changes, to full on engine replacements. I remember one time a piece of plastic from inside the engine of one of our little red saabs broke off and got lodged in a port that pumped oil through a very important section of the engine and the thing seized up on me on stone harbor boulevard--the front tires just stopped still at 55 mph and I screeched sideways across the road almost spinning out into the marsh. I remember we got the thing towed home and my dad pulled the engine apart, picked out all the tiny metal flakes and dust and sand blasted the thing, put some extra thick motor oil in and somehow got it running again. Another time I remember when my sister ran a car out of oil and when it seized he just straight dropped a new engine in the damn thing with a pulley system he rigged from a branch in an old oak tree in the yard.

Nowadays as Adam and I have gotten older, out of both respect and gratitude to our Father we try to do as much maintenance as we can on our vehicles and we're getting pretty good. Adam, I must admit is perhaps a bit better than I with a couple of alternator jobs, belt replacements, water pump replacements, and a radiator replacement just a few months ago on the truck we're sharing now out here in Hawaii, but I also always try to do what I can, changing oil when it needs be, changing batteries, brakes, exhaust systems, plugging tires, replacing belts, and just generally trouble shooting whatever comes my way. I've come to love this stuff, workin on a car, drinking some beer, and talking some shit with my brother or dad or whoever I can drag into the job.

So anyway, Adam and I have had to do quite a bit of work on our little Ford Ranger this winter and above is a little taste of how it usually goes down. Here's to the next job, and to our old man for teaching us how to enjoy working on cars wether we fix em or not.

In Sea TV !!!!

INSEA.tv

Shoots! Dakine new In-Sea.tv episode "Salt Free," is up, Check em by clicking the link above, or in the side bar to da right. Shoots!

I gotta say Ryan's a pretty funny guy, as you can see from the always hilarious out-takes at the end of each episode, but he's also a really good guy, really dedicated to his passion, which I can't really put my finger on because he's into so many different things, I guess you could say basically his passion is just simply, life in general. The guy loves life, which makes him an awesome person to be around, and always inspired by. Shoots.

SEVENTEEN FEET AT SEVENTEEN SECONDS

Note: (The following story does not intend to glorify or draw any special attention to feats attempted by myself, or more importantly by my brother on the morning of March 15, 2011. Big wave surfing is something that has been around since the very first surfer dared to put his or her head down and scratch into a wave just for the hell of it. I think you will find it quite clear in the words that follow that Adam and I are both extremely novice in such areas, and have only just begun our separate journeys in search of these kinds of rare oceanic conditions. Instead, here, with the following prose, I wish only to record the account of a simple adventure; an adventure that I'm sure neither of us will ever forget.)

On Tuesday, March 15th 2011, Adam woke up at 4:00 am and started cooking breakfast.

Around 4:30 am I woke up and instantly became aware of a faint drumming coming from somewhere far away.

Leaning out over the balcony of my bedroom, blinking myself out of a dream, I looked down on my younger brother the kitchen...

"Adam," I mumbled, still mostly asleep.

"Yes bri?" he answered moodily as he often is this early in the morning.

"You making some breakfast?" I inquired.

"Yup," he answered pensively.

"Make me some," I implored.

"You want some?" He answered raising his eyebrows, but still not looking up.

"Yea, I want some," I said.

"Ok, I'll make you some," He replied, not skipping a beat, not looking up, not showing any kind of emotion or recognition of the fact that it was four in the morning and more importantly that he too heard the quiet but persistent sound of a drum drumming from some place far away.

I went back to sleep (if you want to call it that, basically I was just trying to stay calm and not worry too much about what we were about to do.)

What we were about to do became quite clear to us the night before as at 9:50 pm on Monday Oahu's north shore buoys began to spike around 17 feet at 17 seconds. We knew this could correlate to ocean wave face heights reaching well into the thirty to forty foot range, (15 to 20ft+ Hawaiian scale) the next day and as it takes about 9 hours for a swell to hit once it shows up on the outer buoys we could expect to see the swell peak the following morning at around 6:00 am.

We pretended to go to sleep.

At around 5:00 am Tuesday, my breakfast was ready.

"Bri, your up," Adam said bluntly, knowing that I was nearly back to sleep, or maybe paralysis, or whatever you want to call it.

I got up. Put a light on. Put on my trunks. And went downstairs.

I felt sick and my head was swimming and still, there was drumming.

At the bottom of the stairs Adam handed me a plate. The plate had brown rice and two eggs on it. The rice was soggy.

I poured myself a glass of country orange juice and went back up to the sanctuary of my room, turned on my connection to the outside world (computer) and began watching cartoons to try to stop myself from thinking about the dark, angry, Pacific outside my window.

Adam went into the living room, put on his favorite surf film, "Five Summer Stories," and quietly ate his breakfast. Neither of us said a word.

The drumming grew louder.

At around 5:15 we both finished eating and began moving around--quietly getting things in order, grabbing supplies; wax, water, wetsuits, cameras, two basic "big wave" leashes (ten feet long and very thick) and two old school "big wave" surfboards.

I should mention here that neither Adam, nor I owned the surfboards we chose to take with us this day, and had our good friend Glaze not lent them to us, our mission would have been impossible. As it was Adam was still very under-gunned (not having a big enough surfboard) with his Hawaiian made, teal blue 9'6 Barry Kanaiaupuni, and it would have been extremely difficult for me to catch any wave in the 15ft+ (Hawaiian) range with my Owl Chapman shaped 9'2 mango-yellow single-fin, but I was recently crippled by the reef at pipeline, and with two broken toes had little ambition to actually catch any waves this day.

(GLAZE)

But more on all that later as now we were in the mental battle that every surfer has to deal with when the surf is big and he, or she hears it calling.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

As I said, it was early in the morning, Adam and I were getting things in order for the mission, and it felt like we were going against a wall.

After eating I instantly felt my stomach sickly drop into my feet making them drag heavily as I slowly moved about the place looking for excuses to waste time.

"Quit dragging your feet, " Adam finally said as we were almost ready to go and I continued to wander around the house like a lost child.

Adam had now moved through the worry phase of the morning and was rapidly, and quietly I might add, switching over into the amped state one must mentally summon to get them through a mission such as the one we were about to embark on. The drumming was getting louder, faster, and harder for him to ignore.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

5:30 am, Tuesday, and were on the road, but before we could head north we had to make a quick stop to pick up a friend.

Megumi, a friend of a friend was visiting from Japan and wanted to see the big surf, so we took her along for the ride. Megumi was about 25 years old, very happy, very nice, and very good to have around with her small english vocabulary, and pretty round face always smiling and laughing. I especially was glad to have her along as she offered us a distraction from the wild surf awaiting us on the north shore, also we were both eager to reach out and befriend this girl in leu of what had just happened to her homeland. And so under the still shining stars we greeted Megumi Hawaiian style with a hug and a kiss on the cheek and then hit the road.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The drumming continued.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

6:00 am: the eastern sky began to turn a lighter blue and my friend matt called with a surf report.

ring... ring...

"Hey Matt, good morning," I said.

"Hey good morning Brian," answered Matt in his gruff John Wayne way.

I told Matt that we were getting a bit of a late start and asked,

"What's going on up there?"

"It's big." Matt answered, kind of quietly, kind of distractedly, as he went on to say, "I can't really see it yet, but I can tell it's big, it's loud--I'm going to look at pipe, maybe phantoms, Waimea, and then head back towards you guys. Give me a call when you get closer."

I hung up and instantly felt even more paralyzed. The drumming increased suddenly and rapidly and made it even harder for me to focus. I haven't known Matt for too long, but just talking to the guy you can tell he's serious about life. When he said that it was big, I instantly knew that I wasn't going out.

I put down the phone and declared, "I'm not going out," to Adam and Megumi from the little drop seat in the back of our Ford Ranger. Getting no answer from either of them accept a little giggle from Megumi, I put the seat up, laid down on the floor and listened to their broken conversation about Japan, Hawaii, and surfing.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

At 6:30 am we hit the pineapple fields and Adam got his first look at the surf.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The sun had not quite risen but there was enough light in the sky now to see the huge rows of white water marching in across the outer reefs.

"See that big left pushing in across the horizon just above the pine trees," he told Megumi, "that's Hammerheads," he said, and then he began laughing nervously as he suddenly exclaimed, "It's huge!"

I couldn't handle this. So I sprung up and got my first look at the swell.

It was huge. It looked like something out of Jurassic Park as Ehukai (sea spray) from the huge surf pounding into the jagged coast had spread out across the valley below and up into the lower regions of the ominous Mt. Kaala above--I closed my eyes and listened to the drumming and as it became increasingly louder, and increasingly faster and I suddenly looked back into the bed of the truck half expecting to see some ancient Hawaiian warrior there covered in black tattoos smiling insanely and beating wildly at his shark skin drum... Instead I saw only the two old surfboards, an old gas can, and a bunch of empty beer bottles. I shook my head and turned back to the Pacific.

The Pacific, looked like a well organized army. Lines of surf, shrouded in mist, moved in slowly from the deep, and as they came into contact with the outer reefs each magnificent swell fell forward in a stunning display of both violence and beauty--each wave it's own waterfall.

The watery areas inside the reefs were milky white and I could tell even from this great distance and height, miles away, that they were swirling and disturbed, and no place for a human being and again I declared, "Man Adam, I don't think I'm going out."

Megumi giggled some more and looked back at me through her seat...

"Not for you?" she asked.

"I guess not," I answered trying to make myself believe that there was some way I could actually enter this crazy ocean.

And, "Bri if you don't want to go out, thats fine," Adam said with conviction in his voice, and I could tell that he had already made up his mind about the situation, that the drummer was now his friend and that with each beat he grew more excited to put on his leash and paddle out into the maelstrom at the bottom of the hill.

"Lets just get down there and see what's going on," I answered nervously as I laid back down and clutched my stomach.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Finally we reached the bottom of the hill, and upon seeing our friend Matt's SUV we instantly knew that if we were going to have a go, this was the spot.

Adam pulled the truck up next to Matt's and jumped out to have a word. Matt was waxing up his ten foot gun and as they discussed the conditions in simple terms I snuck off into the brush to try to throw-up.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I came out to the bushes just in time to catch Matt as he quickly and determinedly walked his wiry frame towards the surf.

"Going for it huh?" I mumbled trying to sound tough, indifferent, and un-afraid.

"Yeah, I only have a little time," he answered surprising me with his matter of fact tone, as if he was going for a sunday morning longboard session at Chuns. And I thought to myself, "forget about work man, you just gotta focus on surviving right now," but what I said was, "Oh work huh, ok, ahh, well have fun man." But it didn't matter, the drumming was so loud around us that Matt could hardly talk and with each powerful beat my indecision stirred the grey places of my mind into a hot passionate goo.

"Ok man," was all he said as he turned and quickened his pace, and I had to yell out to him when I suddenly realized that I had no idea where or how to paddle out.

"Hey Matt," I yelled.

"Yo," he answered as he stopped and patiently turned towards me.

"How do you get out I stammered," letting on that I was scared and obviously novice to this kind of surfing, but willing to make the sacrifice in pride for some knowledge that might save my life.

"Ahh, I'm not really sure," was his honest reply and, "Just kind of try to thread the needle I guess," he suggested as he paused for a moment looking me in the eye and then seeing that I was mentally in limbo, he turned again to his path and left me to my own.

(Misty Mt. Ka'ala, the tallest peak on Oahu.)

I walked, or hobbled really, slowly back to the truck with my broken toes and saw that Adam was amping hard. The drumming now as we stood this close to the surf had grown out of control and it was insane and chaotic and as Adam prepared himself for the sea it was clear that he was in tune to it's rhythm. I closed my eyes, listened intently and tried to believe in myself. I tried to believe that my going into this sea would not risk either my own life, or the possible lives of other's who might try to help me should I get into trouble. I thought about those people, about the lifeguards, about my friends, hero's, and family... my thoughts became hyper and confusing and red and I opened my eyes and Adam had his board under his arm and he was looking at me and he was smiling.

"I'm going," he said.

"Ok, I'm coming with you," I answered against the will of my conscious mind, but letting the moment make the decision for me.

And, "Ok," was Adams answer, and he sounded confident when he said it. This made me feel good and instantly I began to build on that feeling. Inside my chest I knew I could do this. We said good bye to Megumi, gave her the keys to the truck, and slowly made our way across the Kamehameha highway and down the soft tan sand of the beach to a spot we thought would be a good place to depart from the earth for a while.

As we put our leashes on I looked out into the white place Matt suggested I "thread the needle" through and realized what he meant. Out there, in the blue, nearly a mile away, giant perfect lefts were peeling into an obvious channel where they backed off only to reform and in one great big wall of water closeout the entire inside area before us. If we could time it right, we would only need to take one or two of those big closeouts on the head and with luck, we might be able to bust our way into the outside channel. But first we had to deal with the endless walls of mean looking white, green, blue, and brown water, as they moved across the inside reef pulling up sand and seaweed, and whatever else wasn't clinging tightly to the bottom. It was daunting.

Before I could really suggest any kind of plan Adam ran to the surf, board in hand, and dove out like happy child entering the sea for the first time. I wanted to do the same, but with my toes freshly broken all I could muster was a fast hobble.

I remember hitting the water and hearing the sound of the drums fade and blend into the sound of the surf as it thundered across the outside reef, and as it did a sort of calm came over me. I was in survival mode, paddling hard, trying to catch my brother, and quickly wasting all my energy.

Suddenly a wall of white water, about six feet high, bore down on me. I knew there was no way I could duck dive the almost four inch thick Brewer I was lying on so I ditched my board and swam down into the blackness under the wave.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was like swimming into outer space.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Under the water, for the first time in my life I felt a sense of how greatly immense this huge wet part of our world was--things were unusually dark and turbulent under there, and I remember instantly wanting to get to the surface--instantly feeling as if I was nothing--a flea--a speck of dust, and that in this wild and indifferent place my life could be washed away at any moment. I reached the surface, grabbed my leash, pulled my board to me, climbed up frantically, sat up and looked back towards shore... I was about ten yards from the sand.

Adam, at this point wasn't faring much better and again I tried to catch him, calming myself as I went realizing that this wasn't going to be easy or something I could rush for I knew that if I was going to make it to the outer reef I had to be smart with my energy and calm and precise with my mind.

Soon I learned how to paddle through the foamy, airy water, and after a few good decisions I caught up with Adam. Side by side now we pushed foreword to the main inside impact zone, and as I glanced over to him the serious look in his eye told me he was thinking exactly the same thing I was: were about to get it!

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

And we did. Soon enough the inside horizon turned a brownish black and we knew a set was approaching. The first wave of this set did not break, and a more foolish surfer might have thought himself clear and safe as he paddled up it's smooth face, but Adam and I were too smart for that, and as we paddled up the thing we braced for something horrible. As we reached the crest of the first wave of the set and saw the heaving lip of the second wave it's hard to say what kind of thoughts passed through our minds. Maybe we worried that we were too close together and that we might get wrapped up in the soup under water, or maybe we worried that there might be a third, even bigger wave behind the second as there usually is, or maybe perhaps we thought of things more abstract like a soft bed, a girl, or the sunset--in any case the wave mowed us down hard and we each dealt with it in our own way.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I think it was me who popped up first, because I can clearly remember seeing Adam smiling as he came out from the other side of that wave. Once again I pulled my board to myself via my leash, climbed up and took a quick surveillance of the horizon. Flatness. I was stoked, and as I stroked harder now for the outside Adam caught up to me. We looked over to each-other with cautious smiles and paddled out as fast as we could into the ominous, electric, silence.

Mt. Ka'lala as seen from the lineup leading out to Ka'ena Point--Ka'ena was thought of by the ancient Hawaiians of O'ahu as a Leina Kauhane (Soul's Leap), a jumping off point from which the 'uhane (spirit) of the dead jumped to the underworld. If the leap was successful the 'uhane entered Po, the realm of the spirits. It was here at Ka'ena Point that they would follow the sun to their eternal night. If the person lived an honest life his or her 'aumakua (family ancestral deities) would welcome the 'uhane to their realm. Surfing in the shadow of this mountain range is a great honor no matter what ones ancestry happens to be.

When I look back into my mind, this part of the story gets a little blurry, perhaps because of the fear I felt paddling into the presence of this great wilderness, with it's mindless roaming beasts and endless deep. I can remember that we paddled for a long time and that it seemed like forever before we saw another person. And that we kept quiet as we went.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

When we finally did see another person it was Matt, and as I spotted him I broke the silence saying, "There they are Adam, about a hundred yards to the west." And I remembered how Adam could not see them at first, how they looked like a tiny flock of seabirds so far away and huddled together almost as if they were about to flap their wings and fly off together in search of some distant land.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

And took flight they did, for as we got closer to the pack, the first real set of the day, or, of my life I should say, appeared on the horizon. Relatively it was a small set of waves, at least in the minds of those who chase these things down on a regular basis, but to us they were cetacean. As we made our final approach on the pack the horizon began to slowly change colors from a deep and dark blue, then as we got closer to a purplish grey , and then finally, as we paddled our last few strokes into the channel the entire lower part of the sky out over the sea reared up brownish and black, and it began to hiss as it went.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

And then, from the relative safety of the channel, and in complete awe, Adam and I watched a surfer as he quickly swung around on his bright yellow board, paddled madly as if he was paddling for his life, slowly getting lifted by this hissing brown, green, and black bomb of a wave until he was precariously positioned in it's foaming lip, and at the last possible second, and with absolute reckless abandon, jump to his feet and like a some grand albatross with his wings spread wide, flew out across the thirty or forty feet of beyond vertical wave face before us at a speed I have never seen before in the natural ocean... the wave hissing, then screaming, then roaring as the surfer dive-bombed down into the flats, and then suddenly and almost instantly disappeared into the crisp whiteness of the waves teeth. I choked on my stomach, tried to breath, grunted, smiled, and then screamed.

(If you look really hard you can see Keoni Watson here in the white-water, bottom turning on a really, really deep one. I couldn't help but scream.)

The surfer, was Keoni Watson, a well known waterman from the west side of Oahu--the real Oahu--and I don't think I took a real breath until I saw his board pop up 200 yards away in the vast and soupy impact zone. "Ok!" I thought, smiling to myself, "how do I get back to the beach?"

But Adam was on it, and in an almost zombie like trance he paddled away from me and on up into the outskirts of the pack. With my broken toes and "tiny" 9'2 surfboard I opted to stay in the channel and try to get a few shots without getting cleaned up by a wide one. "Go easy," I said as he paddled away, and he did not look back.

Once again, this part of the session is foggy in my mind, as I think perhaps I was also in a trance, and as I look back I can only recall fragments of what I saw...

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

One fragment I remember quite clearly was a horrific wipeout I witnessed and filmed and as I close my eyes now I can see every psycho detail as if the magnificent wave is once again frozen before me with the surfer perfectly suspended in time, upside down, arms and legs wildly stretched out, deep in the belly of the Pacific. As I walk up into this scene in my mind and observe the magic colors of the deepest chamber of the inside barrel and the painfully construed face of the surfer floating there as he prepared himself for the almost two wave hold down he was about to experience even with his floatation vest securely strapped to his chest, I can almost hear how nonchalant he was as he paddled up to me about 45 minutes later and asked to see the clip.

Another fragment I can summon from the session was when once again surfer Keoni Watson paddled into a wave, this one bigger than the first, the biggest of the day perhaps, and as he passed by me, not 50 yards away how very concisely I thought to myself, "this is the most radical, and most special display of nature and I have ever seen."

Then it was time to go in. I remember I had been sitting there, watching these glorious feats by these men of the sea, by these people I had so much admiration and respect for and knowing perfect contentment for both Adam and myself, knowing no loss of pride for not catching any of these crazy waves, and just being so happy that I got the chance to witness such a spectacle. It was time for us to accept what we saw as a learning experience and get the hell out while things were still good. Then something truly magical happened. Adam caught a wave.

I was sitting there in the channel, getting cold and wanting to go in when I looked up and saw my little brother paddling for a wave as big as the house we grew up in. He paddled and I held my breath. He paddled and I couldn't believe it, this was his chance, this was the moment we had both been waiting for. As he got lifted up by the wave I became hysterical. I laughed and screamed and cursed and was happy. When he caught that big wave and finally stood up, we both stood up, and together, we climbed up onto a new plateau of the wave riding experience. The wave itself was nothing especially special, it was not the biggest wave of the day, and certainly not something the men out there would consider a great feat to ride, but for us it was everything, it meant we could do it, we could survive out there in those conditions and begin to know the ocean in that strange way only those few do.

(Adam bottom turning on a solid one with Mt. Ka'ala in the backround)

Then shortly after the first wave, Adam caught another even bigger one. The second wave he shared with one of the gnarliest big wave, north shore watermen ever to live and Adam was honored to ride a wave with him. It was time to celebrate.

(Adam shares a wave with one of his hero's)

We paddled in almost the same way we came out. Got washed through the inside. Reached the sand, and each on our own, took a deep breath and one good long look out at the crazy Pacific we had just escaped. When we reached the truck, Megumi walked up to us and asked, "surf was good?" And, "Yes," we answered quietly glancing shortly at each other and then back to the sea, and then smiling as brightly as I have ever seen him smile Adam went on to say,"I need a beer," and we all laughed.

The End

すぐによく得て下さい

Yesterday there was a tsunami where I am living, and I think I might have broken my foot. Now I'm feeling bad for Japan, angry at myself for being stupid, and worried about things I have no control over.

I keep thinking about this little girl from one of the classes I often substitute teach. She is about five years old, part Japanese, part caucasian, and just the sweetest little person I have ever known. She has single handedly made me a better person, just with her little smile. Well anyway this little girl was born completely deaf and has recently had an operation that has allowed her to hear. She wears her hair back and has these little antennas that stick out behind her ears, which connect to her head via magnets placed beneath her skin. She can hear and talk almost perfectly with them on, though she is very shy and hardly says anything until you get to know her. Without them she is completely deaf. Anyway she is fine and she is going to have a great life as her Father is a teacher at a prestigious private school out here (and a surfer I might proudly add!) and her Mom is a really nice and pretty little Japanese lady (not sure what she does for a living) and she's just a really smart, really bright little star. Anyway what I'm getting at is I have come to really care about this little one and it's killing me to know how many children like her have either lost their lives or are living in suffering over in Japan now. I keep having visions of kids like her over there and it's just really sad and gnarly what has happened to those people and to many other people across the world everyday. I think it's pretty easy to sit back, eat a snickers, and just flip the channel, or flip off that part of my mind to that part of our reality. This is how I've lived and looked at the world for a long time, but I'm finding it harder and harder everyday. Especially as I make myself more aware, but then I get to this point where I'm like shit, what the hell can I do about any of this stuff, and do I want to do anything at all, can I handle what that entails or do I just go on the way most of us do and quietly think about something else. I know what happened was a natural disaster and thats just a part of life, and that life is just really hard sometimes, and that it could easily get a lot harder for me and mine, I don't know, I guess I'm just ranting.

Anyway I was surfing small pipe with Cave brother yesterday thinking about all of this stuff and trying to impress the heavy hitters in the water at the same time as they were the real deal pipe crew and I am always striving to improve on my spot out there. I took off on a deep left kind of from aints, (aint pipe-aint off the wall=aints) a spot that runs into really shallow water in front of backdoor and anyway I tried to hit the lip on the inside and dug my nose and went over the falls into dry sticking out of the water reef. I guess I'm happy I didn't go face first and like rip my face off or something, but I went down on my feet and just racked them across the reef with a lot of force. At one point my right foot cot caught in a little crack and twisted and I pretty much smashed it really hard. Now it's all swoll and I'm not sure if it's broke and a huge northwest is going to hit in a few days. I really wanted to surf Himalayas on this swell, been dreaming about it, but now it's not going to happen. I guess it could be worse.

But thats ok, because now I have the opportunity to make a really good little film about surfing without worrying about missing any surf because if my foot still feels like this in a few days, there's no way I could handle 10ft plus Hawaiian surf. The film will showcase the skills of my little brother who is on his way to becoming quite the waterman. The screening will be availabe on the blog shortly after the swell, please wear a tie when you watch it.

(Cavebrother age 9, watches closely as Caveboy age14, bottom turns on a nice little right at the lighthouse in Buxton OBX NC)

Adam Grew up having to watch me surf. Now it's my chance to watch him. No pressure bradda.

Grandpa Dunn

This week marks the second year since my Moms Dad's passing. I have a lot of great memories of the guy, but the one that always seems to stick out in my mind is his old fashioned pair of big black boots that always sat at the top of the stairs to the cellar. Seemed like they were always there, except, of course, when he was wearing them to work in the yard; chopping wood for the old wood stove in the living room, shoveling endless amounts of snow throughout the cold winter, or maybe just cruising around the yard. He was a man that took really good care of his house because it took care of his most prized possession... his family.

From right to left, Uncle Bob, Aunt Diane, Aunt Doris, Mom, and Grandpop--he was a real man's man, and he loved his huge family like any good man does.

Clip O' The Day

Pictures of the day.

Last summer about a week after my return from Oahu I joined Lord Eric and the hamster for an unexpected New Jersey treat--an Avett Brothers show.

The show was really fun--set out in the country, on this huge farm. (Yes New Jersey has farms) I have to admit I was a little let down with the pop sound of all the newer Avett songs, but it was still a rad time just being there as kids were playing in the grass, bees were buzzing, butterflies were floating, and we were drinking many good beers.

It was really nice to be home and around the trees and people I grew up with. As much as I love Hawaii and other parts of the world, there will always be a place in my heart for New Jersey.

The funniest part of the trip was dinner. After the show we went to this weird old diner out there near elmer somewhere and ordered some food. Now, Country folk in New Jersey are quite unique as they always seem to be slightly touched by a kind of back woods weirdness. The three of us walked into this diner and it was almost like a record scratched to silence. Us boys weren't from around there. By the end of dinner our older waitress was literally trying to marry off the younger ones to us. I had catfish. It was fun.

Adam, the running fool.

Head Full of Doubt (Amazing Song)

Though I didn't really like the newer pop sounding songs, I gotta say the Avett Brothers are still an amazing band. I got into them a few years back via the Jaime Hunter gang and still to this day when I hear their music, memories of tall pine Carolina backyard barbecue missions to Mase fishin singin and surfin and just plain old doin nothin and hangin around and smiling come to mind. Their music is goodness.

After the show we walked back to the huge field we parked in and to our surprise the darkness around us was shimmering with a strange fluorescent green glow. More fireflies than I have ever seen--it almost looked as if they were blinking in patterns as billions of them shimmered in waves across the field, trees and sky around us.

Heres a cool Avett Bro's Video for you to check out if you've never heard their music before. This video's cool cause it's the song they were playing at the show we were at (shown above) in it's entirety. This songs kind of a slower one, it doesn't really depict the full sound of the band, but it's a really good one so I put it up any way. ok bye.

My Old Man

When I was a kid I became obsessed with the act of riding waves. I can still remember what surfing was like to me then, and how pure the experience was before I became the jaded water person I am today. I remember mostly the smells of things. The smell of wax and the sound it made in the middle of the night as I waxed up a board, too excited about the morning to be able to sleep. Man I miss being that excited about tomorrow. And I can remember the surf shops, how magical they were to me with all their cases of stickers and wax-- surfboards hung up on the ceilings like stars so mysterious and magical--and real surfers with long hair and early 90's grunge looks influenced by guys like Eddie Vedder and Kurt Cobain who gave the whole world this deep emotional undertone of cool that I instantly became enamored with. I did a lot of stuff when I was a kid; rode bikes, rode dirt-bikes, played sports, did Tae Kwan Do with my Dad, played with my friends, the list goes on and on, but I never really attached myself to any of this stuff, then I caught a wave on a surfboard and I have never come across a better way to identify myself since.

The funny thing about all this is my Dad's response. Now, don't get me wrong, he liked the beach and cruising in the water, but he didn't take to surfing like I did back then, he didn't let himself understand it because he was so driven by other things like being a good family man and playing his guitar. It's funny, some of the most poignant memories I have of growing up a surfer is being pissed at my Dad for not letting me go, for not understanding that surfing was not a want, but a need. And again, don't get me wrong, pops was a great supporter of my surfing, but he was also a great supporter of something I have always lacked in--responsibilities.

I can vividly remember this one swell when I was around, I don't know, maybe 13--in my mind it was sick, blue, warm, head high, no one out, and all my friends calling and networking all morning on how we were going to get to the beach to surf, and I couldn't go, why, I had to rototill the whole yard with my Dad. Awe, I remember being so pissed at him as he taught me one of my first and most important lessons about surfing which is: there will always be another wave. Anyway what I'm getting at is now a days all my Dad wants to do is go surfing. Ha, and I hear him gripe all the time about having to cut the grass, or work on a car or fix something in the house, because "110 is going off right now Brian we should be out there," ha, he's become obsessed, and just doesn't want to do any of that other stuff anymore, he just wants to go surfing because now, he truly is a surfer.

The old man's got a pretty good style, check out the tally ho around ten seconds into this clip courtesy of Dave Mccarty.

Hahahaha, the music is awesome...

Happy Birthday Dad.

What's the Matter With Kids Today?

Prafter.com showcased this piece on Education a few months ago. I just wanted to post it up here again to try to keep this message alive--I feel like this kind of thinking could lead to a lot of positive changes in our world. And you know what, I think the most important thing about the ideas suggested in this piece is that they are obvious and simple. I feel like we all know deep down inside that certain things in are world are not right, but we look away from that knowledge. Sometimes we look away because it's easier, sometime we are scared of the consequences of standing up for what we know is right, but in the end, if we just listen to that voice of truth within us all, I think maybe we could end a lot of the suffering we see around us today.

Sunday

Today is Sunday. Lotta stuff I could do today. Go surfing I could. I'm not going to though. Gotta do some other stuff today, I'll surf again soon. Maybe Wednesday. I'm writing on the blog again. Haven't been writing anything in a while, but I'm writing again now so if you wanna read it or look at it then thats cool.

Adam and I had the best surfing experience of our lives yesterday. We rode some big waves together. He's getting pretty darn good--Adam--we both learned a lot. Mostly, it was just fun though. It was ten feet Hawaiian. Lefts. Outer reef. Perfect.

This is kind of what the waves we surfed looked like.

I don't know why the text turned blue now after uploading that drawling, but I'm just gonna leave it like that if thats ok with you. Anyway, yeah we were on top of the world yesterday after that session. We both got barreled and did big fades and drew big kine lines. It was new territory for us because we became sort of comfortable. We switched back and forth between the 9'2 Owl shaped Brewer single fin and the big 7'6 Tokoro pipeline gun. The Tokoro was a bit difficult at first, but if you took off in the right spot it was doable. Watching each-other paddle into waves was exciting. I remember watching Adam paddle into a particularly sweet inside eight footer. He was on the Yellow Brewer and inside the little pack of guys surfing with us, which is taking a chance because if he didn't catch the wave he risked being caught by a set. But he caught it. It was inside and real fat and doubling up. I had caught a wave on the Tokoro and was paddling back out and I came over a hump and saw him making these big, huge, open ocean paddle strokes with his head down. As he started to get sucked up the face of the wave I started yelling, "c-mon Adam, get it Adam!" but he couldn't hear me cause he was real far away. He kept paddling like that until he was right in the lip of this solid eight footer and I didn't think he was going to get it, but it doubled up and pitched and as it it did he popped up into this big wave ninja stance and just stuck the hell out of the drop. As he loosened up a bit and started his bottom turn I was pretty proud of him. It was a really sick wave.

I got obliterated on one. It was a solid one, not a set, but a double up like Adams. I was on the Tokoro and behind this big bowl section and the thing started bottoming out real hard. As I was trying to make up my mind wether to pull in or low line it just outside the lip line the lip connected with me right around my knees and flicked me off my board like you would an ant from your forearm. It was very rapid and violent. I kind of skipped for a second and I remember hoping that my board wouldn't hit me then I was underwater and cart-wheeling pretty hard. Then I kind of stopped and I was deep. I knew this was the worst wipeout I have ever had and I tried to relax and not be scared. I went to my leash cause in all that foam and with so little air it's tough to swim up. I got up and made sure to get a real breath before I checked for another wave. There wasn't one and I was stoked because I survived a fle-flicker style wipeout on a medium sized big day.

More

Hello it's me again. It's a little bit later on, still sunday, and I have some ideas. I'm reading now, I just dropped Adam off at work. I should be doing some work too but have decided to "just go with the flow," instead because I'm reading this book that suggests the best way to live life is basically to just go with the flow... (Its actually a bit more involved than that, and very enjoyable to read and I highly recommend it.) Anyway, the flow has taken me back to this book about the secrets of the universe, given to me by Christie (may be spelled wrong) a good friend, and girl-friend of none other than the mysterious and magical Sandy Hoy. (Sandy paints pictures of cowboys in the nude.)

In any case I read a lot, for a lot of reasons, and well, this reading always sparks lots of action in my head. And I'm not sure here, but I think some of the action, motion, ideaness that goes on in my head might be interesting to some of you peeps, so I'm going to write it down. Also writing will help me to organize and make sense of this thinkstuff and to nail some of it down a bit, because quite frankly it usually blows away like sea spray on a windy day.

Ok so heres some of the stuff moving around in my mind today.

Idea One: Write a cool story.

-The last book I read was Deerslayer,

The story of american frontiersman/hunter, Natty Bumpo's first warpath with his native American friend Chingachgook, who happens to be one of the last of his people, the Mohicans. This book is a classic masterpiece and one of the most moving books I have read in a while.

Deer Slayer author, James Fenimore Cooper

Deerslayer was an amazing world to be in for a while, though it depicted a very hard reality, which is fine and good to be around on occasion because life is damn hard for most people and one of the things I'm trying to do with my life these days is be more aware of that fact, but I have to admit that sometimes I crave an easier, more fun reality. I guess thats one of the things I get from reading--a very intense, vivid, emotionally attached sense of whatever reality I want to pick up. Wether or not this is a positive aspect of reading I will not go into now, but I wanted to make this point because lately I'm finding that however awesome the writing I have been reading is, there is always some little aspect of it that lets me down. So, in leu of this realization I have decided to write the perfect story, or I guess the story that I personally am craving the most to read at this moment.

I say 'at this moment,' because there are times when I crave tragedy, and there are times when I crave a love story, and there are times when I crave a tale of survival, and there are times when I want my mind agitated by mystery and knowledge, and wisdom, but as of late I just want a simple, wholesome, happy, adventure. And, of course the word adventure alone entails most of those things I just mentioned, but you know what I mean--I want to go on a good trip. But you know what, just writing that makes me think, makes me feel a little nervous about this trip, this adventure, because I know that, (well I'm sure it will be flawed in many ways), but it will have the one main flaw all stories have, the flaw that unsettles me the most... the end.

The worst thing about stumbling across a good book is knowing that eventually it will end and that you will have to find another. Shit! Ok so I have an idea. I'm going to write the perfect adventure story, and it's never going to end. How? you say... I'm going to write a column, or a damn blog, or continuation or whatever you want to call it of this story everyday, or na, maybe every week, or I dunno I guess whenever I feel like it. I will call this never ending story, "Never Ending Story," and it's going to have all the coolest stuff, like warriors and horses and wolves and giant turtles and... Haha, na, yeah I guess I'm just going to try to write the stuff thats in my brain, doing just that should make it unique enough, because I'm my own snowflake just like the rest of you. Deal with it. I promise I'll start soon. And keep your eyes open cause you don't want to miss this thing, its going to be even better than "Never Ending Story," because it's really never going to end. It might even be better than The Goonies, "Don't laugh, you know you love the goonies! Ok, enough computer, the day's getting away. Bye.

Oh, wait! I forgot I have one other idea I want to get down:

Idea two:

Buzz Blog.

(explanation of this idea comes at a later date)