I grew up sponging a beach break. In winter, storms would bring swell and a fortuitous offshore that would make some pretty heavy, seldom makeable barrels. Just occasionally, during summer we'd have similar conditions when there was an unseasonal front. The summer sand pattern meant that a particularly savage rip would form and scour out a channel, and then form a tongue of sand out off the front of the bank. There was a brutal left that used to break off it.
There was so much water rushing out that takes offs were always stationary, and usually airborne. Depending on how well you could set your rail during that drop you either got the barrel or the flogging of your life. Whatever happened, you were about to be plunged into darkness - either complete or just a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. The current had dragged up so much sediment that the opaque water formed a solid screen. Those last few seconds before pummeling were awesome as a grom with flexible bones, and an even more indestructable, flexible board. There was that moment when was nothing left, your last hope was snuffed out and it was just the hollow crunch of an imploding barrel, and your final warm breath in a cold, malevolent tomb. I tried to find a picture of something similar, but the web clearly doesn't think such conditions are too photogentic.
I wanted to show the realm of shadows in the barrel. This pic is almost there, but the light through the curtain distracts from my point. Which I wanted to contrast with this.
Light vs dark, warm vs cold, clear vs dirty, coral vs sand. The yin in the yang. Two very different barrels. Both silouetted for different reasons. But both there for the same reason.
And I think i've touched on this before: one of the things I love about surfing is how many different forms it takes.
Pics from the legendary Aaron Chang and NJ Monthly
PS - don't google 'dirty barrel' unless you want learn about cleaning rifles.
There was so much water rushing out that takes offs were always stationary, and usually airborne. Depending on how well you could set your rail during that drop you either got the barrel or the flogging of your life. Whatever happened, you were about to be plunged into darkness - either complete or just a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. The current had dragged up so much sediment that the opaque water formed a solid screen. Those last few seconds before pummeling were awesome as a grom with flexible bones, and an even more indestructable, flexible board. There was that moment when was nothing left, your last hope was snuffed out and it was just the hollow crunch of an imploding barrel, and your final warm breath in a cold, malevolent tomb. I tried to find a picture of something similar, but the web clearly doesn't think such conditions are too photogentic.
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| Like this, but angrier, darker and on your stomach |
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| A potrait of clarity and composure |
And I think i've touched on this before: one of the things I love about surfing is how many different forms it takes.
Pics from the legendary Aaron Chang and NJ Monthly
PS - don't google 'dirty barrel' unless you want learn about cleaning rifles.
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