A surfer dropping in for a gull-kill.
I took the rubber nose guard off my stick today. It's made it a lot easier to spear 'gulls, before I'd only manage to bludgeon them which was ok so long as no one was watching, but it was always a little embarrassing seeing the maimed bird rebound and fly awkwardly away. Without the nose guard I get much cleaner kills, soon I figure I'll be able to leave the obscurity of the Peninsula and hold my own down at the Point. Dudes down there play hard ball, no nose guards for them. The really tough ones will have razor edges glassed in, not just for 'gulls but for kooks paddling inside. I'm not too worried though, I got my 4/3 Kevlar Ripcurl, it'll take more than a rusted out razor blade to cut me up (not that I ever paddle inside, mind you).Got up this morning at noon, rolled out of my truck bed, stoked up the fire and threw in a gull. Had to do a speedball to get started, it being a Monday and all and my brain kind of slow from baking all yesterday. Gave my bud Junk a call to see if he was up for a surf, but he has a job and wants to keep it so I had to surf alone again. After my gull breakfast I drove down to the break and watched for a bit. The waves were good but the wind was bad. I was amped from the speedball so went out anyway, but first I made sure to knock over some garbage cans and pour some old oil from my last oil change over it all. Wouldn't want anyone else to enjoy the beach, just me and my surfing bro's. Speedballs do that to me though, kind of lose control in a disciplined sort of way. It wouldn't have been any good just knocking the garbage over, that would be like trying to imitate a surfer but not really putting your heart in it. Bound to have some Chapeller come by and pick up the litter if you didn't add the oil. But with the oil, then you'd have to pay the dweeb to pick it up, not just threaten him with ostracization. And anyway, the oil always seemed to help turn the wind off shore. I couldn't explain it, not having gotten past third form, but even if it doesn't make any difference it feels right. Just like spearing gulls feels right whereas bludgeoning them feels only half done.
Anyway, like I said, the wind was bad so the rides were short and I didn't get any gulls. A better surfer might have, but I didn't. I was thinking what a drag now I'd have to waste gas chasing them with my truck, when some dude claiming to be a "noted environmental chemist" came around asking if I was responsible for the garbage and oil. I just looked at him not sure how to answer. Dude looked like a Chapeller but I couldn't tell for sure, no 'toos, which was about right, but little round glasses over dark heavy eyes.
Usually you can tell a Chapeller right off from the eyes, sort of blank and believing, and they always blink twice at something. Say something to them and they'll blink twice and answer:That's when I learned he was an environmental chemist. Chemist, I was thinking, cool, maybe I can get some glass and resin, or better yet some more A, so I played along."Are you a moron?"But this dude didn't quite fit the bill so I played it careful.... two blinks and a smile ...
"Yes I am."
"Who the fuck are you?", I said. It seemed like the right approach.
"Nah, brah.", I drawled out, trying to hide the edge in my voice from the speedball.I figured the lie would work, seeing as I didn't have any gulls (for once that was working to my advantage). Anyway, he bought it. Told me he'd be around tomorrow with some resin if I could tell him who the "young culprit" had been. I was starting to crash fast, so I said "Sure, sure, glass too though." I just wanted to get out of there, so I almost blew it when he asked my name, "Uh, Junk" I said. Surfrat just wouldn't have done. He looked twice, and I turned away."Some surf punk came round doin that. Seen the dude around some. I'm not a surfer. I got a job, don't need to surf for eats."
Tomorrow I'll get up early, the wind should be good then and maybe the swell will hold. The oil should be good for at least calm winds if not off shore. This time I'll drag Junk down with me, see what we can hit this envi-chemo for. Maybe he'll have enough resin and glass so as I can shape a new stick, just in time for winter. Who knows...
Writing and all photographs by Leonardo Dagum,
dagum@sgi.com.
Copyright (C) November 5th, 1993. All rights reserved.