The west coast of the States is in for a little treat soon as Vicco shaper, rabble rouser and restlessly creative Maurice Cole is headed over there for some treatment for his cancer (which is going well) and to make an appearance at Sacred Craft, do some interviews and show off some boards.

Those interested in seeing something very different in three fin land should check him out. He has a lot to say. In fact it's pretty hard to shut him up.

Since he was disappearing as of today (he's in the air now) he finished off a board he's promised me for awhile now and I think this one is a bit special. Partly because it's mine, mine, mine!... but also there's a bit of that ephemeral magic about it that tells me it's a keeper.

Look carefully and you'll see it is also subtly asymmetric, with more curve, fin set further back and with more toe in on the heel side (I'm regular foot), and more drive off the toe side.

Of course the proof is in the pudding so I guess I'd better give it to Kelly instead of wasting it on Mr Wobbly.
6'3" x 20.25" x 2.75". You might think too thick and too wide but these boards will wail in 8ft Bells. They are pretty special. Very complex curves, huge concave, slightly dished tail to get the back foot closer to the water and meat under the chest.

It's also insanely strong. Glassed with aeronautic epoxy and a PU blank I CANNOT press the deck at all.

Now if only I could do something other than look at it.

Not just for the sake of posting, here is a little bit of footage I discovered of Derek Hynd shot a week or so back.

The dear boy is still at it. Three weeks in JBay filming for Jack McCoy. Half his luck.

At about 27secs the rail grab bottom turn he does is out of this world, and you get a sense of the speed he's getting as your compare him to the poor soul he drops in on in the beginning.

As for us down here in Vicco, it's cold, onshore and either fat or flat.

Next week holds promise.

Derek Hynd, Jeffreys Bay, South Africa. 26/06/09 from Yves Van den Meerssche on Vimeo.

Way back when the kids were little my oldest, Joey, was a Batman freak.

He never got out of his Bat suit, and I still have stashed away about ten plastic Bat masks, all stuck together with sticky tape, each one a study in the trials and tribulations of Applied Batness. The little chap lived the part.

He'd draw him, we had bat ropes out the back, and bat hides through the house.

Around the same time I was the proud owner of a custom 7'6" Wayne Lynch gun, a lovely board I enjoyed most at one of our deep south breaks, one I've referred to before, sometimes called Boneyards, or Elevators, and most popularly, Massacre. It's a break with a lot of history, the good ship Falls of Halladale lies on the bottom in the channel, and the point it sits off is the site of an appalling atrocity against the local aborigines in the days of early settlement.

So it has its ghosts, plenty of atmosphere and it's a bloody fun wave too, grunt in spades, rarely crowded and it will hold a lot of size.

One fine day, must be at least ten, twelve years ago, I was enjoying a belter of a session, well I think it was until I did get really belted, and came up to find half a board attached to my leg, and no sign of the other half..

After recovering from the near drowning and making my way in (which is no picnic at this place) I searched high and low for the front half, but it was as if it had been absorbed by the sea, which, fortunately, I hadn't. I wasn't happy because it meant I couldn't get it stuck back together, and I had already begun to enjoy the thought of the repair, given I have this theory that boards for bigger waves go a bit better heavy.

Still I kept the half I had, maybe to salvage the fins, maybe because I simply hate throwing things away. Not long after, struck by a let's give the kids something to do.. or was it more, I've got a bright idea, I said to Joey.. draw me your best Batman!

Proudly presenting me with the drawing I proceeded to transpose it, with a bit of poetic license, onto the board.

It has decorated the house since and it is one of our precious things.

Here he is, in all his Batness, as painted by me, Joey and Tom, circa 1997.

One day the other half is going to turn up. I just know it.

The blog is feeling a bit like a surf report at the moment.. and how boring given it's the log-ins of someone so past it I sometimes forget what the wax is for.

So I'm resolving to try and up the ante, post a bit more often, try to resurrect some stories and do a bit more of what I think I used to do when I began way back when. I might have to go and re read a bit to remind myself.

Anyway a solo run yesterday as Richie was doing Dad Stuff with his young Louie. I scouted prisons for Tom while I drove down and scored a freezing peak with a couple of dozen grommits and their Dads on their own Dad Stuff Day for a boardriders club from another coast. A bit of a zoo, and something of a slalom course, but the hooting and encouragement for the little ones was enough to assuage any frustration on my part. I did one good turn. That kept me happy. You become easily pleased as you get older.

It was so cold, about four degrees C with a decent offshore so the wind chill must have pushed it close to zero. Thank God the water itself is still around 14C which is clearly not enough to keep the sharks at bay. A small, (four or five feet) something or other nudged a bloke on the next peak which encouraged him from the water. That this is the land of the Large Great White had me a bit skittish for a while, and feeling a bit guilty that I wasn't making a fuss about it but the sense of fun with the kids may have generated its own Shark Repellent Happiness Field.

One can only hope.

I must smile more.

Pics today... the little peak, crowd dwindling but the peanut gallery of seagulls were thrilled to be there. ...aaaand a couple more T's.. back end of the run now. I must get the sketch pad working harder. The first is a collection of bits of graffiti I've shot, and a line scrawled on a wall that got me..er.. thinking, plus the logo for a fictitious Old Farts Surf Club. I'm the President.

A very mixed and eventful few days in a low high key sort of way.

My youngest brother headed of to 6 months in a foreign war zone which will keep us all on the edge of our seats for quite a while. His parting comment was if you hear on the news of death or kidnapping it's not him as we would have been told first. Thanks mate. Really comforting.

The Dark Prince aka Tommy got into more hot water than a bucket of fresh prawns on a summer Sunday and I picked the wrong peak.

Clearly picking the wrong peak is the least of my worries, but when you look at the line up yesterday, you'd have to be a bit miffed when you realize, once leaving the water, you made a complete hash of it and 100 yards either side of where Mr Grumpy paddles out there was a better variation on pretty damn nice.

Whatever the result it was fun if a little inconsistent, but given the clear lack of crowds and great conditions only thing that could really have spoiled it would be if one of the local Great Whites had decided to cruise the lineup.

Fat lazy old buggers were probably a couple of headlands away feeding on seals.

Pics today are the few from the Woolamai car park and two more T's, little fishy guy and a doodle I liked enough to make official.

Yikes it's getting chilly down here.

Inconsistent waves at Magics meant sitting for ages between sets, cooling my heels and gazing at the horizon.

It was cold comfort though, in the nicest possible way, as Rich and I pretty much had the bank to ourselves for nigh on three hours, so with him on the lefts and me the rights, we shivered and occasionally waved at each other while enjoying pretty damn good little waves. A bit gutless, but who's complaining?

Pics for today, the right hander shot as I left the water during an atypical flurry of crosswind. it had been glassy for most of the time.

Additionally a couple more of my T experiments, these two lurching far into the Land of Odd, with a tribute to 20's Dada gone surfing, with a dash of Tom Slick*, and an inscrutable old sea dog.

After the last two apparently went down like a cup of cold sick, I'm taking brave pills putting these up.

*Fifties/sixties TV cartoon Tom Slick has a scene where Tom, Hero that he is, is being mobbed by reporters.

Tom, Tom, have you got something to say to your millions of fans!

Tom looks into the camera...

"Art-i-choke"


(Yes.... I've been told I'm obscure before.)

Yesterday was a different one.

We're being plagued by minute to no swell at the moment, but perhaps it was a good thing as, free of distractions, I spent a good part of the day with Luke and Wes from Nalu Productions in Torquay, filming an interview with Maurice Cole and Ross Clarke-Jones.

The intention is a series of webisodes on Maurice's website, documenting the where, why, and how he got to where he is today, with a shaping direction very different to most boards out there. They may be thrusters, but Not As We Know Them.

Just ask Mike Machemer. The recipient of one I took over to him last year, I gather he Loves It. I hope not in a creepy way.

Because what MC is doing has evolved out of the experiences and developments made tow surfing, the stories will break down how they got where they are, beginning with first forays into tow, and the discoveries they made. How length kept reducing, weight increasing and the realisation that certain curve combinations did very surprising things.

Later, we will be filming the results of Maurice's attempts to translate what they have learned into boards for you and me.

It was a fascinating day, listening to tales of 30 foot waves in the neck, hitting the bottom at Jaws, and see just how minimal, and high tech, the boards are becoming. Carbon kevlar, nano carbon, riding waves at water speeds around 100kph, fun dialled up to 11.

Maurice is pretty unstoppable when he gets going, except occasionally as Ross piped in or rolled his eyes at some outrage from the hairy one. Poor old Luke on camera was getting worn out as there were very few pauses. My job will be a big one as I try to make it brief, as it was all interesting.

The interviews were tempered later by Maurice talking of his battle with cancer, and how the prospect of more imminent than expected mortality has spurred him on creatively. It was great to see not an ounce of defeat in his eyes. That he is in remission and the battle looking promising means we'll be seeing a lot more from a Mr Cole on a roll, and no doubt Ross, half man, half brick that he is , will continue doing his XXL best to keep us entertained.

Picks today: Ross checking out a bit of history while Luke films, Maurice giving me heaps and also in the shaping bay, tidying up the next tow experiment.