Panama’s signature, world class, surf break is Santa Catalina, but up until a year ago you couldn’t even buy a block of wax in town. There was no surf shop. Now, Catalina has a surf shop and it’s run by 2 German girls, Elli & Patricia.
Their story is so cool, I had to write about it. They are from the same town in Germany, Munich, but they met in Panama were they were learning to surf and living in paradise. When it came time to go home they didn’t want the dream to end, so they started a surf shop.
That was a big move for 2 girls who knew nothing about the surf industry, had no connections or know-how on running a shop, couldn’t speak Spanish and were only learning to surf, but they did it and did it in style. Now they have half a day to surf, everyday, only open when they like, are their own bosses and are living the surfers dream.
I love surfing Alaias. Tom Wegener who is largely responsible for the rebirth of the alaia is a full advocate of the DIY approach to alaia surfing. The way he tells it, you can start with a long wide plank of wood and shape a 7ft alaia, then go for a ride.
From my experience you fall off loads on the first attempt, but you also get that feeling; fluid and super fast, melding with the wave yet skating across the surface. Surfing an alaia is all about feeling the wave and dancing with it.
Now back to the DIY part. After a surf or two take the 7ft alaia back to the work shed and re-shape it. Make it a 6 footer with a swallow tail or deepen the center concave or re-shape the rails all you need is sandpaper, a hand plane and a saw. Each surf alter a different aspect of the board and then ride it to feel how that affects performance. It really is a great way to learn about hydrodynamics and surfboard design. When you have sanded and chopped that alaia till it is too small to ride (you can belly board a 4ft alaia), give it to a kid and spread the stoke.
A wrote an article on alaias for The Surfboard Man.
I live in a small coastal town, about two hours from Tokyo. For many Tokyo surfers it’s their best option for a wave. It can get pretty crowded on Sundays but the crowd makes for an entertaining day, as long as I don’t join them in the sardine packed line-up.
When I walk along the beach I can tell where everyone paddled out by the lines of neatly paired thongs. Japanese people love footwear. They have inside shoes, outside shoes, toilet room shoes and rarely go bare foot. They wear thongs right to the beaches edge. Its classic – there are always rows of thongs on the beach patiently awaiting the return of their surfing masters.
Thongs are just the beginning of a vanload of equipment. The Japanese surf kit is extensive. Here, the basics extend well beyond a board and wax.
When they pay $2000 for a board (and they do) they’re not going to put it in the dirt and gravel. Everyone carries their own, portable, board racks. These are knee high, padded, A-frame stands and the car parks are full of them. The board is carefully laid wax down on the rack, given a thorough fresh water rinse, then towel dried. Some people even take the fins out every surf, before carefully sliding the board back into its cover and up on the cars internal board racks.
Then it’s on to the shower. There’s no need to go anywhere though, the Japanese surf mobile has a fresh water shower in the boot. All that needs to be done is turn on the little electric pump and rinse down with the hand held surfing shower. If for some reason they forgot the shower, no problem, surf shops and even some 7 Elevens will have an outside shower for surfers to use.
The next phase of the post surf ritual is taking off the wetty. For this the Japanese carry a few really practical things - coat hangers, a nice big tub and a beach towel poncho. They stand in the tub and take their wetsuit off, then hang it up on the car. Many surf vans come factory standard, with a hook or bar in the tailgate for hanging up wetsuits. This is typical of the Japanese methodical approach to surfing.
The beach towel poncho is also typically Japanese, you wouldn’t get away with it anywhere else in the world. It looks like a big, soft, floppy, towelling sack, with a hood and arms. This is thrown over the top of their wetsuit and then they change underneath without getting cold or exposing any pasty, white bits. Sounds functional and you might be forgiven for considering getting one, but they are all made in bright colours like pink or even multi-coloured poker dots (I’m not kidding). Somehow, even the relatively trendy looking guys get around in these without a hint of shame.
Japanese surfers are pretty dedicated. The city surfer, down for the day, is on a surf, eat, surf, sleep and surf again mission. And they sleep all over the place. I’ve come across dudes asleep in the car park on banana lounges, camping chairs or even in a starfish pose on the sand. Often, I see a car parked, with the engine running, air-con or heater on and two guys fast asleep inside. It’s not eco-friendly but you have to respect their dedication.
You can tell a lot about the average wave size here by the way waves are measured. It’s done by body parts - knee high, waist high and so on. Add to this that the average Japanese surfer is shorter than the average Australian and you’ll get an idea of the general swell size. Most days I can get a surf report by simply pointing to a body part. But if it’s a typhoon, it can get big. Then there are only two size categories - overhead and double overhead.
Although the surf’s busy, I can still get waves. For some uniquely Japanese reasons surfing amongst the crowd is not a stressful thing (Sundays excluded).
