Southern California surf adjacent Angelo Pappas inexplicably eating a meatball sandwich. Photo: Point Break
Southern California surf adjacent Angelo Pappas inexplicably eating a meatball sandwich. Photo: Point Break

So Cal surfers beg beachfront burrito joints to free them from the tyranny of Surfline

Introducing The Carne Asada Metric.

The Pacific has gone entirely flat, in Southern California, and has been such for months now. Not a pulse, not even a ripple, in weeks and weeks and weeks. The obsessive-compulsive surfer who counts a 15-ft glider in his quiver not even “out there.” The surfer who depends on saltwater to balance mental health throwing caution to the wind and letting that mental health become unbalanced.

As bleak as it gets and yet, Surfline has been calling 2 – 3 fair to poor throughout much of this satanic stretch. The wave forecasting giant making an absolute mockery of both 2 – 3 feet and the very idea of fairness and poorness. Surfline, as you know, has a monopoly on wave forecasting, around these parts, which leads directly to all sorts of conflicts of interest. Which advertiser, for instance, might need a little boost from a juiced outlook?

And it has long been thought that this situation simply is what it is. There will never be a Surfline competitor so accepting its prognostications, just like accepting political season promises or the fact that Diddy called his parties “freak offs” just a way of life.

Until now.

For just yesterday, I sat down for my weekly chat with David Lee Scales who just so happened to be near Florida’s gulf where the waves are slightly larger than bottom California’s. We were talking about this and that until he mentioned Waffle House, the beloved southern chain that serves such delicacies as Texas Melts and biscuits + gravy. Well, David Lee informed me that alongside breakfast yum yum, Waffle House also provides its Waffle House Index, a guide to hurricanes and tropical storms and their potential damage.

Per the Waffle House website:

When a hurricane makes landfall, the head of the Federal Emergency Management Agency relies on a couple of metrics to assess its destructive power.

First, there is the well-known Saffir-Simpson Wind Scale. Then there is what he calls the “Waffle House Index.”

Green means the restaurant is serving a full menu, a signal that damage in an area is limited and the lights are on. Yellow means a limited menu, indicating power from a generator, at best, and low food supplies. Red means the restaurant is closed, a sign of severe damage in the area or unsafe conditions.

Honest and true.

And while Southern California may not have Waffle House nor tropical storm, it does have burrito joints frequented by surfers post-surf. Now, if we were to set up iPads at each beachfront burrito joint with three simple questions (where did you surf, what board do you normally ride, what board did you ride today), wave quality could be instantly and accurately determined.

The Carne Asada Metric.

Genius, no?

David Lee and I also discussed the cons of renewing wedding vows and Griffin Colapinto. A fine show and worth a listen, here.

But before you click “play,” what is your burrito order? Are you a California gal? Classic carne asada? Pollo asado?

Me?

Al pastor tacos. The mighty burrito just too much food.

Bon apetit.

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Dane Reynolds and new surf shop in Ventura Chapter 11
"Well, surf fans, lookee here, we got ourselves a new location," says Dane Reynolds, captain and master of Chapter 11, now at 83 Palm St. Inset, a little graffiti on the new concrete. | Photo: IP6IP6

Iconic Ventura surf shop owned by Dane Reynolds and bulldozed by developers set to reopen in new location “within days”

"I’m pretty sure our battered soul still exists, stuck to us like the last chunk of wax at the bottom of the box."

Lovers of authentic surf culture were shocked several months back when Dane Reynolds, the former world number four surfer, daddy to six children and neighbour of Travis Barker and the homeliest of the Kardashians, curvy ol mama Kourtney, was forced to shutter his iconic Ventura surf shop shortly before it was bulldozed by developers.

The green shack was called Chapter 11 and lived at 365 East Santa Clara Street in Ventura. It was a place where its famous owner would greet customers and offer screen-printed t-shirts, still warm from the freshly applied inks. It quickly became the hub around which that surf community revolved.

BeachGrit’s Santa Babs-based writer Jen See wrote approvingly of the store and the electrical vibrations that pulsed from it,

It’s easy to feel like surfing’s soul has drowned in a sea of soft tops and Sprinter vans. The latest private equity firm to come along buys and sells the empty shell that’s left. Pull the shrinkwrap off another one.

Did it ever exist at all? Did surfing ever have a soul? Seduced by magic images and exuberant story-telling, did we imagine the whole thing?

I’m pretty sure our battered soul still exists, stuck to us like the last chunk of wax at the bottom of the box.

It might be the guy screening t-shirts in the back of his shop and making cheerful small talk about the waves and the forecast.

It might be the next generation of groms falling asleep on movie night. It might be the women hanging out in the parking lot, talking about board designs.

Never one to miss an opportunity for a little comedy, Reynolds, who is thirty-nine, used the misfortune to have some fun.

“Well, shit, the time has come that you’ve been waiting for, we’re finally closing our doors for the last time,” said Dane Reynolds in classic huckster mode, straw panama hat balanced on head.

 

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All is not lost, howevs.

The gods have breathed a little life into the dying embers of surf culture with the new Chapter 11 store opening up just one hundred yards from the old place at 83 Palm St, Ventura, and next to Indoek, an art gallery famous for its brightly coloured books on interesting surfers and their “surf shacks.”

Click here to read about the home of BeachGrit’s dear friend Damion Fuller, the man who is central to our new accessories capsule called I Hate Surfing, which will feature I Hate Surfing mugs and ashtrays. 

 

 

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Lunada Bay Boys forced to make VAL sanctuary. Photo: The Surfer
Lunada Bay Boys forced to make VAL sanctuary. Photo: The Surfer

Lunada Bay forced to roll out welcome mat to surf kooks after landmark settlement

"Lunada Bay is open to everyone."

Grumpy locals, worldwide, took note, yesterday, after a landmark ruling was delivered against California’s Home of Surf Rage, Palos Verdes. The Los Angeles-adjacent enclave, perched above the Pacific, is somewhat well-known for its rather contemporary ranch homes but mostly Lunada Bay and its rough n tough surf gang The Bay Boys.

Whispers have percolated for years describing their hardcore ways including, but not limited to, congregating around a stone fort, possibly drinking beer out of coozies and intimidating “outsiders” who dared to show face on the beach.

Two intrepid beginners, kooks in surf parlance, decided enough was enough and, a few years back, sued the Palos Verdes Estates over Bay Boy bad behavior. The case wound through the courts for years, coming to a head, last month, when two Bay Boys took the stand, the plaintiffs attorney Vic Otten asking one, “Is it true that you believe Lunada Bay belongs to you and a select group of people?” To which he responded, “No, I don’t think so. It has a special place in my heart. We try to clean up the area…” and called the wave “ not world-class” merely “better than average.”

Well, the judge has had time to consider but before his ruling, the Estates themselves rolled over and settled.

According to the local Daily Breeze, the city will “install new walkways, benches, signage and other amenities at Lunada Bay.” Or, in other words, “The improvements will make the city and the state’s stance clear: Lunada Bay is open to everyone.”

Kerry Kallman, Palos Verdes Estates city manager, attempting to put a good face on the matter, declared, “The City Council is committed to ensuring compliance with the California Coastal Act and public access to our beaches. Likewise the City Council does not tolerate harassment, bullying or any form of localism at any of the City’s beaches. Based on the decade of legal action and court rulings that have wavered between supporting the City’s position and disagreeing with it, we believe the best path forward for everyone is to resolve this matter.”

There is no word on if the Estates must provide changing ponchos, changing mats and rise kits or a year’s subscription to Stab Premium for the incoming VAL horde but it must be assumed all are included.

Grumpy locals around the world, as stated, feeling the pressure.

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Ian Cairns and his childhood home in Cottesloe.
Kanga and the joint his parents rented in the sixties. Out the back the big boy learned to surf on those weak lil reefs.

Childhood home of hell-raising big-wave surfer Ian “Kanga” Cairns lists for staggering $20 million

"No matter what price it transacts for it will instantly and immediately increase in value. Once it is 'gone' it's priceless."

The legend of the Western Australian big-wave surfer Ian “Kanga” Cairns, a rough, tough, lover of big chicken-fried steaks who protected his honour with a baseball bat during the heady showdowns with North Shore locals during the winter of 76-77, runs deep.

Kanga is a man with the physique of a comic-book hero who ruled big waves, who was pivotal in the creation of a world tour, who would launch the ASP after tearing the game off the IPS’s Fred Hemmings and whose thin-eyed stare could give a man stomach cramps.

The last time he was on these pages, Kanga joined Elon Musk in condemning Wikipedia for rewriting history.

Now, the old house Kanga’s parents rented in the Perth beachside suburb of Cottesloe in the nineteen-sixties has listed for a hard-to-believe twenty-mill.

Hard to believe ‘cause this is Perth, the most isolated city in the world, or pretty close to it, where even in Australia’s exploding housing market you can still get a house near the water for under a mill.

“When we moved to Perth in 1966, Dad rented a house near the beach in Cottesloe and I spent countless hours out at Isolateds (a tame reef) learning my craft,” writes Kanga. “It is now for sale for $20m. That’s some insane real estate appreciation.”

The selling realtor describes it thus:

While the original and modest “farmer’s seaside abode” still stands on the block, the property is being sold as land value. With subdivision potential, the buyer also has the option of splitting the land up into two, three or four blocks. There may well also be the opportunity for two buyers to independently acquire approximately 600sqm of the whole landholding, for two new oceanside residences.

The successful buyer/s will be fortunate enough to secure what is recognised as the ‘perfect’ beachside property WA has to offer. And no matter what price it transacts for – it will instantly and immediately increase in value as the opportunity to acquire it will be lost. Once it is ‘gone’ it’s priceless.

Twenty mill is a little rich, but sweet view and, three hours south, world-class waves, although shithouse out front.

 

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John John Florence wins third world title
The Big American with the even bigger ass, John John Florence, and the third world title cup that signalled the end of almost a decade of Brazilian dominance.

John John Florence world title signals end of Brazilian Storm’s “peak kook style”

Pretty surfing is back!

A recent article called ‘The Style Renaissance’ by our collective pal Steve Shearer (Longtom) suggests that style in surfing is better than ever.

Well researched, it makes one of few references in our surf media to Brazilian surf journalism. Wrapping up the 2024 season, the article considers that CT surfing is – at last – valuing style again. So what to make the development of competition surfing over the last decade?

Since Medina’s first title in 2014, the reverence for style amongst Australian, Hawaiian and Californian surfers (call them Colonialists) far exceeds everything that the Brazilian Storm brought in victories and egregious behaviours. It began in sharp contrast between peak-Colonialism – honed by the highly evolved Coolie Kid and Andy eras – clashing with early-Storm behaviour verging on kook.

The overly energetic upstarts came in with disregard to otherwise absurdities in the culture. There was disdain to years of perfecting a figure-8 cuttie, sticker placement, wetsuit colours. There was claiming. Lots of pumping. One manoeuvre waves. There was noise. It was small wave performance over charging large, hollow waves. It was all win at the cost of style. It changed the CT.

But Colonial style is collective subjectivity, not quantifiable to the uneducated eye and with mystic gatekeepers. It is a peculiar pursuit of surfers mainly around the edges of the Pacific in Australia, Hawaii and California. It is often regional, heralded by the likes of the Surfcore Instagram account, local tilers, Margo, Rasta. And style is historic: Andy Irons, Curren with his Curren-isms, MP. Entry into the style club comes with difficulties, is complex and layered.

Throughout Brazilian title years, Colonialists held onto style as the bastion of superiority over the South Americans’ uprising. When style wasn’t scored on the CT, surfers complained and quit the tour, deeming that they wouldn’t compete unless on their own terms. Titles rain down for Brazilian surfers. The reaction from both sides was to defame. Chat rooms lit up. The term ‘Brazzos’ lurks next to death threats among tones that are cringeworthy at best, deeply troubling at worst.

While women’s surfing on the CT has been a safe place for Colonialists, on the men’s side the uprising is in plain sight. Seven Brazilian titles and three to John. Yet plenty of shade is thrown and the proverbial ‘asterisks’ are noted below.

2014, Gabriel Medina: He rips, he charges (Tahiti, 18.96 v 18.93 (Kelly), but he cried losing to Julian in Portugal. His boards were a bit wide and a bit flat with neon sprays. Charlie and mum on the beach. There was too much emotion and not enough graciousness in the back story.

2015, Adriano de Souza: Plenty to love in the backstory but we called him the Li’l plumber. He was an early victim of peak-Kelly and never recovered in Colonial eyes from comments about his wide stance.

2016, John: Expectation.

2017, John: Hope.

2018, Medina: Should have been Julian’s year. It was peak-Charlie. On the one hand we had Ross Williams and Tommy Whits, then there was Charlie.

2019, Ferreira: It was a power vacuum with the first year in forever without Parko and Fanning. John busts his knee with two wins and a third after four events. There was some Colonialist softening after Italo’s victory over Medina at Pipe on the final day, which was ruined by excessive Storm scenes on the beach.

2020, COVID.

2021, Medina: wins at Trestles. It is the first year without Charlie but Yasmin is there. Parko and Fanning had been creating some positive noise about Medina, but the Colonial jury was still out. This is pre-divorce era Medina, pre-mental-breakdown and recovery-in-the-jungle Medina. John was injured again and WTF-are-we-doing-deciding-the-title-at-Trestles, it’s a half asterisk.

2022, Toledo: Wins at Trestles. Where to start on performances in Tahiti and in hollow waves?

2023, Toledo: See 2022.

2024, John: Relief.

While John’s title came to the joy of pure Colonialists, the comments section in the final five broadcast was divided – there were those that thought his numbers were being pumped up by the Colonialist Illuminati. However had Italo won, it would have been another asterisk-title for the Brazilians. The flapping and hopping, the single manoeuvre waves, the Red Bulls, victory decided by Trestles, the system, it would go on.

So with John’s title against the thrilling run by Italo, the Brazilian Storm era as we have known it over the last decade surely closes. Italo’s style is one of the outliers amongst his compatriots and most tour surfers. Ethan Ewing, Griff, Jack and John occupy the top of the CT.

Brazilian style is maturing and with that their assimilation into the domains of the Pacific style-lords and the end of the Brazilian Storm as we have known it for the last 10 years.

As the final five decider moves to Fiji in 2025 and assuming they get pumping Cloudbreak in September, the consequential nature of the contest creates a title without asterisk, regardless of their nationality.

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