We would like to thank
our Sponsors

Toll Free: 800 666-2122

Comfortably Numb: Shane Peel’s Victoria
By Shane Peel

Remember how your folks told you to be on your best behavior when you visit someone’s home? Well, like so many pearls of parental wisdom, that advice extends to grown-up life too. For example, down in Victoria, if you act like a yobbo and “upset even the local store clerk, there is a good chance you will get to see your car as the centerpiece of a bonfire,” Shane Peel tells us. In addition to the local “peacekeepers,” there are rather large, toothy fish, extremely frigid water, and, of course, pumping reef points fueled by the mighty Southern Ocean. Bring a thick suit and a bigger board; Shane Peel wants to show you around his adopted home.

Barry Britton’s Celtic Lines
By Kevin Naughton

It’s back to the ould sod with Kevin Naughton at the helm and artist Barry Britton scrawling away in his Tullan Strand studio. There’s rich surfing heritage in Eire that grows naturally from the coastal culture of the west, and Britton’s art endeavors to capture that blend. He succeeds wonderfully with his pen and ink drawings that invite a close study. “When the common building practice was to stucco everything in sight, Barry was a lone voice for the use of native stone materials that paid homage to the past instead of plastering over it,” Naughton writes of his friend’s aesthetic sensibility. Barry Britton’s Celtic Lines is a look at the life and career of a true Irish surfer.

The Advocate
By Daniel Duane
Photos by Mark Gordon

“I first met Mark Massara in a padded room, and I thought he was a pot-addled lunatic. He’s not. He’s arguably the most significant environmental lawyer—maybe even the most important environmental advocate—that surfing has ever produced. But he can seem like a pot-addled lunatic because he’s such a snarling pit bull of an environmentalist, fighting hook and claw on nearly every California coastal conservation issue of any significance, and even on a lot that are insignificant to everybody except a few neighbors somewhere.”

Down at the Sugarmill
Words and Photos by John Bilderback

A photojournalistic essay on the artisanal renaissance at the old Waialua sugar mill, where burning cane has been replaced by catalyzing resin, the whine of surfboard planers, the press of wood clamps on shell inlay rhino chasers, and the bubbling pots of an herbal soap maker. Come have a visit with cabinet builder Dan Moore who also stands among the elite of the big wave fraternity, stop by Reo Stevens’ and Mike Slattery’s shop and check-out the rescue sleds they build for the tow-monkeys. A touch of history, with a nod to the future, “the Sugarmill story” highlights a vibrant community of craftsmen at the gateway to the North Shore.

Tenshi no Hashigo—A Fishing Village in Japan
Words and Photos by Scott Bailey

“Once in the lineup, we watched solid 12-foot peaks stand up and throw to the flat, dragging the swell over on itself in three even sections. It was just perfect, if perfect gets that big. The spit was awesome, swirling up to the sky like a tiny tornado, leaving rainbows against the sun. On the wave of the day, we watched a 15-foot pit explode down the point. You could have parked a bus inside the thing as they say. Chris and I were both screaming our lungs out and, although he was only a few feet from where I sat, I could not hear him over the noise of the wave.”

Rodrigo and the Art of Fun
By David Holmes

Rodrigo seemed sort of heavy when I first met him at Journal HQ. You know . . . an older guy, burly arms, a lot of sun on his mug, big, shaggy hair . . . a man of experience, perhaps not all of it mentionable in polite company. Such was my first impression. Soon enough, however, he and the head unagi, Monsieur Hulet, were cutting up in Scott’s office, laughing about some San Diego compadres they have in common, and I got a sense then of the mad desert builder featured in David Holmes’ story—a study in how to make much with little, and have a good time doing it.

Up the Cape
Words and photos by Brian Nevins

Now, if you’re into lobster claw gloves and 5 mil booties, then this one is for you. Way on up the East Coast, Brian Nevins and a crew of intrepid barrel searchers (led by Hector, the ganja-toking boat captain) sought a fortune in cold waves before winter froze the joint (no pun intended). The boys found what they were looking for, and Nevins—who isn’t happy above 23 degrees Fahrenheit—kept his watch cap on and worked through the rolls to deliver a unique view of a little-surfed region. Cold-water wax recommended.

Still that Way
By Mickey Munoz

At some point the surfer realizes that he or she is involved in something more significant than simple play. Perhaps it’s the first time out in heavy water—far from shore the wave rider senses the open ocean and taps in (however distantly) to mankind’s seafaring tradition. Maybe it’s the fantasy of hunting for surf by sail, or the realization that we spend far more time looking at the water and paddling through it than actually surfing . . . whatever the impetus, most surfers, sooner or later, become intrigued by boats. It happened to Mickey Munoz in the worst way and the result has been a life of hulls: some for surfing, some for sailing. He’s had a grand time along the way and shares some reminiscences.

Plus... beachglass as nature’s gift, sailing on another’s dream cruise, Jeff Divine on a strange day down in the Pacific, a make-you-quit-your-job photo feature, and surfers mixing with Manhattos for a Surfrider benefit.

Thank you for your continued support. Subscriptions are easily arranged.

Christian Beamish
Associate Editor TSJ