A story that actually means something. That
matters.
Ricardo dos Santos challenged our status quo
from the moment he first busted onto the scene. His death, shot
down by an off-duty police officer in his home country of Brazil,
shook us it to our very core. Gun violence was not something
typical in surf. Is not something typical.
I remember first hearing about the shooting. It all felt very
surreal and even more so that a young up-and-comer could die.
Actually die. And when he did die it felt awful. Unnecessary.
I so applaud director Beren Hall and Stab for telling
this story, for trying to pull it back into the light. It actually
feels like it matters. Like it means something.
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All of Chapter 11 felt right. Funny when it mattered,
serious when it mattered, sick as fuck through and through. |
Photo: Morgan Maassen
Opinion: Chapter 11 Fucked Everything!
By Adam Jara
Nails surf zeitgeist against the wall. Funny when
it mattered, serious when it mattered…
You’ve grown up with Dane. You saw him
become everyone’s favourite surfer, the lord of the
coveted web clip. And after all these years, you kind of know Dane
better then most.
Or at least you thought you did. Chapter 11 fucked all
that up.
Pre-Chap 11 even the most seasoned “hip” surf fan had begun to
cynically roll their eyes at a VHS handicam B-roll filled air-fest
or a two-minute edit every week or directing a film about a fellow
Quiksilver team rider.
Then the wave of opinions, comments, tags, articles, covers,
ads, “exclusive” interviews, all of it. Endless content. Dane was,
is, the man to know. Do try to keep up on his edits, see
what he’s got to say on something, oh sick a new board. If
you are out of the loop, you don’t know what you’re missing!
Quiksilver actually employed me for a brief time. Shop #82 in La
Jolla. I sat at the bottom of the corporate trough of a publicly
traded powerhouse surf brand with decades worth of experience,
integrity, grit and money. I joined the team on the forefront of
selling the Quiksilver “vibe” to whomever came in.
Guess who drops off the big team right when I join?
Kelly. Bye dude!
Time to take off all the ads of Kelly in the store, make sure a
new video advert for the flat screen TV’s has no bald glory flying
out of a tube. So who’s left? OH YEAH! Dane and that kink-legged
saint Craig! Oh the marketing team has it all! Two phenomenal
surfers that fly the “fuck contests” flag with pride and… oh no
money?
Shit, this is awkward.
I often felt that yes, while Quiksilver represented Dane fairly,
funded the trips, etc, it didn’t feel right. The banner ads were
apathetic. The vibe was too cool for school but cool enough for
every Macy’s, Tillys and surf shops from San Diego to Maine. Such
is life in the corporate surf world.
Dane’s best anything seemed so far from a marketing department.
He’d drop off the radar. I’d see the same clips over and over
again. Then Sampler dropped and my faith was restored.
This cycle continued until the Quiksilver corporate empire filed
for bankruptcy. I wondered: what will become of my two favorite
free surfers? Will Craig and Dane save them? Will they get even
more creative control?
Nope. Peace. Bye. Oaktree Capital? No thanks.
Then I left too. And life went on.
Dane’s departure from the Mountain and the Wave became an
afterthought. He had a kid so, of course, no clips are gonna drop.
Being a father takes precedent to cranking out content for the
masses. Vans sat back happily in the industry, took an effective,
but admittedly easy route and put Dane and @pamlovesferrariboiz in
Sk8 Hi’s and pasted it with a monster rail gouge at Rocky Point
from last winter as a friendly reminder that Dane was indeed alive
and well post-Quiksilver break-up. Win win for everyone. Silence
resumes.
All of the craptastic fuckery of 2016 takes over the airwaves.
Election this, email leak that. I want something to love! I beg for
clarity in this insane world! Is it too much to ask?
Chapter 11 was the dose of clarity the whole surf
industry needed. Dane set it straight. With 37 minutes of film Dane
has calmed the cynical doubters, commenters, fans who thought
they’d lost their black sheep. Don’t worry pant cuffing pouty
surfers! Father Dane has spoken the good word.
After two weeks of amazing swell in California, capped off by
rain today, a fresh edit of Dane being Dane in the best fashion is
just what we needed! Those airs! Those turns! Whipping the slate,
or in this case nose of a CI board, clean of corpo branding. Back
to the roots of good surf films. Candid but not too much, a
soundtrack that demands repeated plays and having fun on a boat
trip with friends. Paired with effortless beautiful, raw,
captivating film making, AND OH THAT PUNK ROCK SECTION! FUCK
YEAH I WANT MORE MORE MORE MORE! Sorry that was excessive but in
the moment it feels right.
All of Chapter 11 felt right. Funny when it mattered,
serious when it mattered, sick as fuck through and through. Dane,
you gave us hope. Oh and throwing in the punk laden ad for your new
brand that I will buy because, well I want to, that was a good
move. No need for a conference room meeting to okay that brilliant
idea.
So thank you forever Dane. Welcome Former. All is
well.
Are you looking for some new beach gear? Welcome,
honey!
Are you a man? Who totally loves when summer
hits so you can go to Starbucks and get all your favorite beachy
treats? Like Teavana shaken berry sangria herbal tea? Or iced dulce
du leche latte? Do you need dedicated “me time” every week? Maybe a
mani-pedi followed by anything Sarah-Jessica Parker? Or a long walk
in the park with a little dog? Or SoulCycle n chill?
Well now there is outerwear label for your surf missions!
You may know Lululemon from your wife/girlfriend’s yoga drawer
but now the Vancouver-based brand is making trunks and yoga
leggings light enough for the muggiest weather Malibu can
throw. For you!
Boys’ trip!
Just imagine! An open cabin tucked into the Littlest Dume.
Teavana shaken berry sangria herbal tea n chill. Beach
towel gossip. OMG. Toes up the nose. Thick rails. Etc.
Nobody reads Surf Europe but everyone should! It
funny!
Surf Europe might be one of the greatest
producers of content these days. France’s ideological breadbasket
absolutely crackles with very funny stuff. I think, though, that
their web traffic is down near maybe zero. And that’s where your
beloved BeachGrit comes soaring in to save the day!
Like Robin Hoods we shine a bright spotlight on the noble but
unregarded! We steal from the poor and give to you the middle
class! Take, for example, this great story comparing how you drink
your coffee to what kind of surfboard you ride.
Take, for example…
POUR OVER
Not so long ago, you could buy plastic versions of these
that sat atop your cup, at the supermarket for about 2
bucks.
Now they’re glass, with cool wooden and leathery bits,
Japanese design influence, but basically the principal is the same
as the plastic ones. You can pour it in slower or faster to like,
totally control the brew.
If you went and bought one of those kettles with the spout
to complete the aesthetic, well, I’m not going to say you’re a
victim. I’ll just say this: Getting a single fin is one thing. A
good thing. Then getting a retro wetsuit top to go with it is a
whole ‘nother matter entirely.
He gonna choke you 'til you black out then murder
you dead!
When you think of death and destruction and
black eyes and cauliflower ears and Conner McGregor and choke
outs and broke faces and blood and death and destruction and fear
and the octagon and Khabib Nurmagomedov and arm bars and blacking
out and human growth hormone and death and destruction and gouged
eyes and collapsed tracheas do you think of young Huntington Beach
surfer Kanoa Igarashi?
Or cute San Clemente grommet Griffen Colapinto?
I don’t!
I think “young” and “cute!”
But apparently both Kanoa Igarashi and Griffen Colapinto are not
young and cute but rather stone cold mixed martial artists. Maybe.
The modern surfer puts “training” at the top of his list when going
to Oahu’s North Shore and by “training” he means doing some jiu
jitsu and sweating a little bit and arm baring a smidge.
And why not, I suppose. The North Shore is a rough place.
Still. I, for one, am happy not to have grown up in the
“training” era. I am happy to have gotten by on my wild windmill
hammer. My refusal to ever go to the mat. My actually being
unhinged.
Who wants to fight a man with a very crooked nose and absolutely
nothing to lose?
