Progress is regress?

In the summer of 1991 issue of the Amicus Journal, the publication of the Natural Resources Defense Council, an artilcle appeared called "The Reinvention of the Americal Frontier".
It's two authors described rural adaptations such as farming and logging as "extractive" industries, and sought to develop a "kinder and gentler frontier" by replacing them with retirement communities and tourism, viewed as non-extractive and therefore morally correct adaptations.

Rural areas are usually characterized by traditional adaptations based on, in their view, renewable resources.
The shift in terminology from such words as fishing, farming, and logging to "extractive industries" carries a negative moral weight, which in turn justifies the turning over of resources to the "morally superior non extractive" users.

The latent function of such thinking, however, is colonialist in nature.

It is a classic case, the hinterland is no longer permitted to export it's raw materials, its wealth, to urban areas for processing as it could in previous eras. Rather, rural sources of income in the form of trees, fish, and land are transformed into a means of recreation for tourists.

Is there not a distrubing echo here of how the original frontier was created, by means of a land grab from the aboriginal inhabitants of North America?

Must frontier creation always involve a wrestling away of resources from one owner/user by another?

What are the social consequences of such decisions?

In this 'wrestling away of frontier land' is it also necessary that these "morally superior" people consistently degrade the value of the natural resource workers by pointing out the workers lower wage --as compared to most urban dwellers?
Just because one can afford to buy expensive 'green' clothing made from recycled goods does not mean that the natural resource worker in his rugged and worn clothing should be labeled a 'bad person'.

This type of thinking promotes the argument that those of 'lower lifestyle' deserve to have the land wrestled away from them.

It is as if the tourists on the upper deck of the Titanic are saying to those below that their opinion is of no worth due to their lack of income.
And it is not often noted that many of these natural resource workers do not need but half the income of an urban dweller in order to live a very healthy, natural, nutritious lifestyle. The abundance of natural resource in such areas guarantees that the hearty natural resource worker will alway have a freezer full of fish, clams, elk and deer. Thier homes heated by wood they gather in nearby woods or washed up on the beach.

I was born and raised in the rural areas of Oregon.
Most of my life I have been on the coast and learned to love the rugged beauty of the salted air.
I have lived elsewhere up and down the coast including San Diego and Santa Barbara.
It is there that I have seen the land be taken from the resource workers and what has developed because of it.
The bulldozers are hungry and they seem to keep getting bigger as they are fed more.

In San Diego, for example, the entire agricultural district of Chula Vista was 'written off' and is lost due to the fact that the developers needed the water to fill the bathtubs and jacuzzis of new home projects.

The farmers were simply told they could no longer use the water.
And literally overnight the farms closed their 100 year old barn doors forever.

I truly hope our societies fascination with the 'green' movement also includes some respect for those people who work in nature.
Natural resource workers are some of the most fulfilled and happy individuals left in our digitized, overprocessed, genetically modified, ammonia washed fast food hamburger fed nation.
The idea of taking a young child out to show him or her how to gather fish, food, or grain seems so distant in our culture.
The average family farm used to feed 6 to 8 families.
The average farm now feeds around 100,000 families.
And you can buy a hamburger with all the fixings for a dollar-----how scary.

Efficiency is not always productive.
And progress can be regress.

Surfing and commercial fishing are SO similar....

Imagine if surfing was made illegal in Oregon because someone claimed it was harming the fish which tourists were flocking to Oregon to fish for.

Oh don't laugh-----------it could happen.
It has happened in a few small islands.
And commercial fishing in Oregon is being attacked by 'environmental superior-ists' who claim that harvesting fish is bad.

Seriously---as a surfer, fisherman, and naturalist---it is really discouraging to think that this really can happen in the U.S.A.
I am an independent which leans towards democratic due to the opinion that democrats seem to think ahead a bit more than republicans.

But mostly I am a logical thinker.
Give me a logical explanation to a situation and my vote is for you.

It has become fashionable to label the harvester as an "extractor".

Loggers, fisherman, and farmers.
Lately they have come under the observation of those who like to label them negatively with words like extractor---devatstator---raper of the land---etc.

I want to encourage you to expand your mind.

I wear patagonia clothes in an effort to promote earth friendliness.
I recycle EVERY thing I can.
I LOVE nature and want to preserve nature as best we can.
I fill my refrigerator with glass jars ---not plastic.

I love wood, metal, glass----and plastic is the 'fog' of the vision of the future I hate to contribute to.

But---- just a radical thought-----have we gone too far?

Are we now pushing out natural harvest?

Will gardens be considered bad for the environment in our future?

I am not a conspiracy freak.
To me---it's just stating something obvious.
I have a first hand view of the situation

I am a commercial fisherman.

Why are the commercial fisherman labeled so negatively?

Do we all have chickens in our back yard, gardens growing wildly, and do we really fish or hunt for every morsel of fish and flesh we eat?

This country has become so infatuated with making every rural and beautiful area into a tourist attraction, or retirement community, that the biggest developers have decided to come against the traditional harvester.

Labels such as
Archaic
Unethical
Un-environmental
Extractor
Devastator

These are all just smokescreens and distractions from the truth.

We are all to blame for the demise of salmon runs.
We all are responsible for the development and industrialization which has harmed salmon and all of our resources.

We all use the power from the dams which killed salmon runs.
We all build houses with wood which is clear cut from the hills of Oregon.

Please stop acting so innocent.
Bust out of your office cubicle a bit and think realistically.

Blaming the commercial fisherman is simply not ethical.

There are fishers, environmental groups, and developers who impact habitat involved in this debate.
All have fundamentally different values and they will never come to perfect agreement.
Continual debate is inevitable.
Hostility towards those involved in natural resource based harvest jobs is growing.

Fisherman know they do not have the time, money or resources to fight back.

But still the hobby fisherman, so called environmentalists, and developers continue to push the fisherman down and paint a negative picture about their livelihood.
There are people in the U.S.A. claiming to be "environmentally superior" to others. And the sad fact is that many of those 'superior' people live in urban areas and are often afraid to move out to a space more environmentally enriching and safe for their own family.

It really is a shame.

The resources this country was built upon.
The resources we have, and harvest, to other countries have diminished.
We have replaced these things with all the plastic crap in our houses.
And now we export our jobs.

Are intel, nike tennis shoes or microsoft, our new solutions to resource wealth in the NW?

What happened to the hard working, harvesting, people of the United States of America?

Next we will export our children---to work in other countries---to make goods for U.S. consumers.

Children from rural communities are already leaving their home towns and families.
And we wonder why the family values in the U.S.A. are in decline.
They have no promise in the rural region harvest jobs of their father or mother.

These kids are told they can find better work if they move to urban areas, go to college, and strive for a desk job in a cubicle.

And so many anti commercial salmon fisherman people are in favor of this.

What is happening?

I am in favor of making our natural resources in the U.S.A. a number one priority.
My U.S.A. is not just for these "new frontiersmen" who's hobbies, retirement communities, and tourism revolve around the Disneyland version of Oregon I was born into ----and proudly fight to preserve.

Keep Oregon clean, green and mean.

Do we really think that the tourists, and so called conservationists, will take better care of our home than we will?

Is it really the solution to bring in people from all over to go on a guide boat and catch all our fish?

We have goods, and hard working people to make and harvest those goods.
There is a way to balance this out ethically.

There is NO guarantee that the new frontier of "environmentally superior minded" folk will govern with a preservation ethic by which the land or resources preserved will even be made ACCESSIBLE by all.

We who are truly environmentally minded...
We have LIVES and JOBS which revolve around the natural ways of the earth.
We want the earth to sustain a healthy way of being.
We want to harvest, and re harvest, for generations to come.
We want the salmon to propegate for without them we do not have a LIFE.

We do not want to lose any of the existing species of animals, or humans, which currently exist.
We are naturalists and we want nature to thrive.

We believe that there is a way to balance the supply of salmon with the needs of man.

And we also recognize that the urban dwelling--- so called 'environmentally superior'---- minded person is in conflict with our way of life.

We believe those proud and 'superior' people have the power to change laws.
But those people may lose everything -----by trying to save something so irresponsibly.

Read the FINE PRINT.

What a week.

It's been unusually warm here---as you all know who live here.
February is hit or miss.
This year it's been a hit.
Here is a great picture by Mark of Cannon Beach surf shop.

February---
12 days of good surf.
2 days of kitesurfing.
5 days of pole fishing.
Sunday we begin net fishing.

Can't go on enough about how frustrating the attempted gill net ban is.
A small group of people with money.
That small group has one agenda.
They want all the fish to themselves.
They claim they are innocent.
That their poles and hooks never damage any fish.
I know better.
Any real fisherman knows better.
Their hooks kill.
And there were thousands of wild stock salmon caught with hooks....
thrown into pickups and smuggled home illegally.

The anglers claim they never kill any wild salmon.
BS.
A net catches a salmon.
If it's a wild born salmon (the adipose fin is not clipped off like the hatchery born fish) we can let it go....alive.

The gillnet fishery is a completely sustainable fishery.
The fish are hatched in the hatchery---let go to the ocean---and they return 3 to 7 years later (to die) and we harvest them.

It's amazing.
Beautiful.
Technology cannot compete with nature's ways.
There is still no logical explanation for how the salmon KNOW where to return.
It's nature.

But I can see the greedy television advertisements now.
Saying we are killing whales, dolphins, seals....what a bunch of garbage.
Claiming we hate nature.
Claiming we hate salmon.
Nothing could be further from the truth.

But three men can have a huge voice.
With enough money.
And enough greed in their blood.

Such is this new way of living in 2010.
One person, such as myself, can type words and they are read all around the world.
Ashton Kutcher can have 1,000,000 followers watching him on twitter.
The world has become so small---in so many ways.

Using this fact to their advantage---- two rich guys and a lawyer decide to try and change the Oregon economy and the native Oregonian's way of living.

Walter Fondren (heir to the Exxon fortune...big oil man) and definitely NOT from Oregon.

Loren Parks of Nevada(made millions from a sexual hypnotism scam)

Kevin Mannix (whacko republican attorney)

These three men write up a measure for the citizens to vote on.

They use their money to collect 82,000 signatures.

They recruit sport (pole angler) fisherman.
They convince these fisherman that when the gillnets are gone there will be more fish for the poles to catch.

Even though the Federal government, the state of Oregon, and the state of Washington all watch intensely until too many endangered fish are caught---and then halt ALL fishing.
Even though with no gillnets the EXACT SAME NUMBER of endangered fish will be caught----just by anglers only.


The sportfisherman just don't want to share the sandbox.
Yet the gillnetter has never attacked the sportfisherman.
Even though the sport fishing fleet kills FAR MORE fish than the gillnetters.

The greedy anti group knows the traditional gillnet fisherman doesn't really like sitting in front of computers.
Most are too busy outside fixing nets, their boats, and helping each other work.

So---- it won't be too tough of a fight to beat down the traditional commercial fisherman.

When 82,000 signatures are gathered they throw an issue on the ballot in Oregon.
An issue that is CLEARLY misunderstood by 80% of Oregon.
And the people of Oregon vote.
Portland, Corvallis, Salem, Bend, Junction City, Eugene.
Most of those people have never touched a live salmon.
Most don't even know that the salmon running up the river are running up to spawn and die before we catch them.

Most don't know that 90% of the fish in the river were hatched in a hatchery---paid for by gillnetters and subsidized by the power companies who are paying the gillnetters back from the damage of the dams (which blocked the migration of salmon to their spawning grounds)


If the gillnets are banned ---Oregon will lose another 20 million dollar industry.
Salmon meat was one of the first industries in Oregon.
How sad that these men have such personal interest in destroying so much.

If you vote.

Please vote NO ON 74.

Hundreds of families will thank you that dad still has a job working hard in the river.

These boats are all single manned boats.
Self sufficient one man operations.
Sole proprietorships.
Small businesses in which our country was built on.

Without the salmon industry in the river you will have to buy fish raised in farms.

Salmon which never go to the sea---they are born in a pen and raised there.
Fed by pellets which contain 10 times the cancer causing PCB's of a natural salmon.

Their flesh is then dyed pink to look like it went to the ocean.

You eat that costco farmed salmon---and you are eating a little Red dye number 5.

Farmed fish are the alternative to gillnetting.
And a horrible alternative.

You can bet the anti gillnet campaign won't let the animal rights activists know that farming salmon is the alternative to gillnettting them.

Vote no on 74 and let these special idea money men get on to other things.
Leave our state alone.

Walter Fondren can go back to slinging his oil around bays like he did in the Exxon Valdez spill.
Without commercial fisherman in our river maybe he can mess up our river too---Throw a few liquid natural gas facilities up---which are already being proposed.

With gillnets out of the way he won't have any commercial fisherman to pay off for any damages he causes to the salmon while building those giant facilities on the river banks.

Kevin Mannix can try again for some public office and fail again.

Loren Parks can spend time hypnotizing sexual addicts---and making millions doing so.

And the gillnetters who have fished this river for over 200 years will breathe easy another year.

Until another group decides they want the fish and attacks us again--- next year.

More on the attempt to ban commercial fishing on the Columbia River.

A completely sustainable harvest of fresh wild fish----in our beautiful state.

Sport fisherman want to have all the salmon to themselves.
So they are telling horrible lies about gillnetting and attempting to set themselves up as saviors to our amazing salmon.

But they are not saviors.
In fact sport fisherman killed so many endangered fish in 2009 that Oregon and Washington department of fish and wildlife told to stop fishing....or face penalty.

The sport fisherman are a large group with a lot of money---and they are financially backed by big oil companies like Exxon who also want commercial fishing "out of the way" for other ventures.

If the law is voted on by the general public of Oregon it could be a horrible case of misinformed votes--------even though the voters are only trying to do what is best.

To clear up the MYTH about gillnetters 'killing endangered species of wild salmon' you can see this video clearly defines how we MUST revive wild stock salmon (born in the wild and not tagged) and release them to the wild again.

We commercial salmon fisherman want nothing more than to have the salmon runs grow to historic levels.
It would mean more salmon for everyone and an opportunity for us all to earn a little better living too.

Don't sign ANY petition or vote for anything regarding commercial fishing on the Columbia river until you look deeper into the subject and are sure to listen to both sides of the story.

This video is hosted by fisherman Darren Crookshank who demonstrates the revival process of wild salmon.

It is important to note that 93% of the fish we catch were hatchery born and bred fish, not native fish which we gladly put back in the river.

It is also most important to note that a hook and line sport fisherman will fight the fish all the way to the edge of the boat and they are NOT required to revive the fish. Many times a sport fisherman catches a fish, fights it to the boat, unhooks it and it floats away.

In addition, hook caught salmon commonly swallow the hook and it kills them when the hook is removed. Even though the sport fisherman puts the fish back in the water.

Sport fishing is not innocent ----though they claim to be.

Tanglenet Fishing on the Columbia River: A Sustainable Fishery from Lawrence Johnson on Vimeo.

No need to be crabby

Crab boiling in a pot.
Low tide clam digging in the early morning.
Clam strip appetizers.
Last summer's salmon on the grill.
Vegetables from the summer garden are steaming.

The swell is friendly this week.
But still head high or above.

Grey skies.
No worries.
Even the elk are happy.
They are not being hunted at this time.

Too much to be happy about.

And when the sun peaks out
for the sunset...
It's time to play guitar.

Home sweet home.

Winter rain ---feelin' all new age'y and sappy. Maybe it's just the firewood on my hands?

It's an amazing time of year.
Wood stove ripping downstairs.
Fireplace ripping upstairs.

Not really cold.
But the flames are way better than television.

Sure.
There are places where you awaken every day to 65 degree air and clear blue skies.
No question.
It does something to awaken a persons mind and body.
Knowing the weather will always be desirable.
Knowing that the sun will bring you a bolt of energy to start your day.
Drive 101.
Check the surf.
Been there.
San Diego.
3 years.
Pismo Beach.
3 years.
Same weather.
Every f-ing day.

BUT.
It got boring.
And very insecure when I really looked into the numbers.
The drought.
The farmlands sold for developments in Chula Vista.
The masses pushing out to the boundaries of San Diego county.

It wasn't home.
Not many can really call it home.
Just a temporary dwelling.
Not many natives are left there.
Mostly transient deposits.
People looking for sun for an answer.

It's not there.
Not when you know the truth.

It's better here.

....

Water is the world's most valuable resource.
A human can live 2 weeks without food...or more.
but only 3 to 5 days without water.

When it rains.
I remember.
It's safe.

We need it.
All of us.

California needs rain right now.
They are bitching.
Putting jackets on.
Jackets with hoods.
They are disoriented.

The oil on the roads hasn't been washed off for a long while.
The surf pumps.
Don't go in to reap the promises.
Ear infections.
Gastrotestinal infections.
Oh the memories.

The jet stream dipped their way the past few days.
They can have it.
I enjoyed the sun today.

But bring the rain back.
The jet stream is good 'cold steam'.
Oxygen.
Water.
Clean air.
People here would reap the benefits of energy.
If only they would go outside.
When it rains.
And breathe it in with a good
Run
Bike
Walk
Surf

Sun is good.
But more so rain.

It's fine with me.
Water is good.
It's life.
It's 80 percent of our being.

Looks like surf tomorrow.

Hopefully it will rain
and the surf will be clean.

Good
Clean
Fun.

See you out there.

Wakeboarding in the ocean?

Did a 21 mile bike ride around Lewis and Clark---the loop.
Stopped to see the waterfall is raging as usual this time of year.

It's a great ride.
Big O saloon.
Country boys and girls bar.
They know how to pick a good bartender.
Good point to grab a beer about 3/4 of the way through the ride.

Sign on the wall says
"you know you are a redneck if you have ever bandaged a wound with duct tape"

Doesn't everyone?
I guess not.
I don't hunt bear.
But I have had more than my share of duct taped wounds.
Duct tape on surfboard battle wounds.

And duct taped fishing poles, shoes, trucks, ---never enough rolls of silver salvation laying around.

Sunday is a good day to ride these roads.
Empty roads.
The log truck drivers are at home enjoying their woodstove, television and beer.

Surf is huge this week.
Maybe it's good at a certain couple of places?
Shall see.

Starting to think about taking a fly away vacation to some sun and wind.

Surfing vacations are tough.
Packing all the boards---and if your luck isn't active you don't get swell.
Bunk trip.

So winter vacations are better suited for kitesurfing---to me.

The last 3 years I have been kitesurfing exclusively with a surfboard---no straps.
And I am still blown away that people still approach on the beach to
ask...
"what is that you are doing?"

And even more amazed that a few more surfers have not picked up the possible endless ride.
NW winds all summer long.
Sloppy shit surf.
Perfect for letting a wing pull you around on your favorite 6'2 surfboard.

mulcoy's world from Josh Mulcoy on Vimeo.

Starting to revisit the sensation of riding on a wakeboard again.
This video reminded me.



Rock fever?
Or just a little antsy since I know the surf may be handicapped this week.

Back to working on the boat.

....

Interesting letters....

I originally wrote this blog for my 10 or so friends I keep in touch with.
They are scattered around.
Easy to update.

At first
they were the only people reading.

At first.

Now random people write me letters.

I never write back.
And none of the writers have ever mentioned their real name.

Blogging feels ridiculously narcissistic.
Getting a little old already.
I was just curious how blogging worked?

SO...
One day I posted a few photos of beautiful surf of my home.

I was born and raised here.
This is my home.
25 years of cold water.
Tried to leave twice.
Came back.
5 of those years I was out of the water from a back injury from dropping in on to rock.
Feet first.
Compression of the spine.
Gained 30 pounds.
Lost it riding a bike along the beach.
I still live with the bulging discs.

Another 4 years kept me out because of surfer's ear.

I was out for 9 years.
Spent a winter in Mexico kitesurfing.
Got back in shape and ready to paddle back out.

Got back on my surfboard 2 years ago.
Still nursing the back.
But I am in the best shape of my life mentally, physically, spiritually---literally.
People don't recognize me.
New 'locals' stink eye me.
Strange.

Every once and a while an old timer tilts his head and puts it together.
They say the same thing every time.
'you look so different?'

It's the only place that many of us would even want to be a surfer.
Still amazed by our place---every day.
The most heavily localized point break and stretch of sand on the west coast.

The history here goes way back.
Way before John Mel set up a surf shop on Hwy 101.
Way before he moved to Santa Cruz and birthed Peter Mel---famed mavericks madman.
The history here is deeper than surfing.
This is the oldest city on the entire west coast.
My grandfather and great uncle worked at the shingle mill in Astoria back in the late 1920's.
My great grandfather fished here in the 1800's.
They came over from Scandanavia.
They watched the same waves.
Walked the same sand.
Tried to catch the same elusive salmon.
Too cool.

So I got a few letters.
About those photos of our sacred spot.

And yep.
You are right.
It's true.
Bad bad idea.
It's like bitching about people hitting on your girlfriend
and then putting nude pictures of her all over the internet.

I whine about crowded surf.
And post a photo to contribute to it.

The saying is true.
"Some excitement is meant only to be contained."

So no more surf porn of the sacred.
Pics are removed.

And this must be what blogging is all about.
Called out on my own bullshit.

Thanks anonymous writers.

Point taken.

Investing time--- for free time gain

Two days.
Six hours.
28 waves the first day.
39 waves the next.
Paddling.
Paddling.
Paddling.

Feels great to be sore.

But why were there 15 guys out in the lineup at 2:00 in the afternoon on a Wednesday.
Unemployment sucks.
Makes the lineup grow.
Too many 20 somethings in the water.
Don't they have jobs?

Last year, this time, there were only 5 guys out at best.
Welcome to the future.

The better the wetsuits....the bigger the lineup.


Oh yeah.
I am a commercial fisherman.
Decided that I wanted to do it---not so much for the money.
I did it for the adventure...and to prove to myself I could---with no experience.

A 30 something who found a seasonal job that lets me surf from October to February.
The real surfing season.

But I need to get back to 'getting ready for' work.
39 days till the season starts.
39 days till I permanently affix the family size Dawn liquid soap bottle in the shower.
The ultimate degreaser---de fish oiler.

39 days to get the boat ready for every potential mishap.

Last year...the alternator went out at 2 in the morning.
Not a soul in site for miles.
It's like sitting alone in a graveyard as the fog rolls in.

Oh yes.
The prop fell off 3 times last season.
Nothing like hitting the accelerator and not moving....at around 1 in the morning.
Wondering if you can get anyone on the radio who is willing to lose the rest of the night of fishing just to 'help a guy out'?

Ran out of gas a few times due to a faulty fuel gauge.
Too embarrassing to ask for help.
Just sit and wait.
Till someone calls you.
"How's the fishin'?"
And you humbly admit.
They laugh.
And then they come help you.
Pity tow.

Oh yes.
A few things to fix.
Or I will suffer more ego blows.

But most certainly
something will still go wrong...
when least expected.

Such is commercial fishing.

But today.
It's really hard to keep my mind straight.
Too many clean lines rolling in from the horizon.

More coffee.
And stick my head down in the engine.
No duck diving today.

Insuring another year.
Fishing all summer and surfing all winter.

Convinced by convenience

Land, fish, timber, and water use.
The theology of resource use.
Natural capital?
Natural capitalism?
Or natural capitalism caps?

What to harvest?
Where to harvest?
When to stop?

Your wood desk.
The paper filled books on your bookshelf.
The newspaper.
Wooden floors ---- real wood planks.

And Ikea laminate floors made of recycled plastic bottles.
Plastic everything.
HUNT to  find ketchup in a glass bottle.

Squeeze those plastic bottles.
Dry.
But they are still here.
For  2.4 million years.

Glad it’s raining on our beach today.
No one is there.
One less day of litter.
One less plastic bottle in the sand.


Wood.
Glass.
Metal.
Rock.

Real.

The fish you  eat in your sushi.
The fish you buy at the market in filets.
Catching a fish and bringing it home to eat.

And  fish sticks in a plastic tray.
Microwave 2 minutes and 30 seconds.
You are so modern.
So efficient.
So intelligent.
You are moving faster each day.
No time to cook.
Faster.

No time to go catch a fish.
No.
You would have to put a raincoat on for that.
Go outside.
Rain is not convenient.


That thin clear plastic.
The lid on the tray.
So thin.
Microwave it.
Cook it.
Hear it pop and spit.
No smell in the kitchen.
No mouth watering urge.
Just popping, spitting, and DING DING DING.

What an invention.
The plastic tray and clear plastic lid.
They did
Not
Melt

You just cooked a “meal” in it.
You are such a fucking genius.

Maybe you have been caught?

Convenience is killing you.
The baited hook.
You bit.

Wake up.


Wood
Glass
Metal
Rock

Real.

The theology of resource use.
When to stop?

I say let’s start it up again.

Wood
Glass
Metal
Rock

Fingers typing on a plastic keyboard.

Disturbing irony.

Heavy V

Working on my boat today---commercial fishing boat.
Getting it ready for the salmon season which starts around February 15.
A lot of work to do.
Been thinking, and writing, a lot about the idea of living in an area where we
harvest the land------and are judged by pop tart eating metro livin' hippies in urban areas for doing so.

They can just go to whole foods and get that.
No thought of where it came from?

My ancestors in Norway were loggers, fisherman, and wood carvers.
All of us have ancestors who harvested the land.
First for food.
Then for trade.

But I watched a lady on the television last night ---ranting about how the 'rapers of the land will meet their demise'.

I tend to strongly disagree.
Sustain---and balance.
But don't just stop using natural resources and live in plastic houses.

I guess she forgot that much of our nation was built on the harvesting and collecting of resources in which we sold and manufactured with?

She must not eat fish.
And I suppose she hates wood.

Personally------my fireplace is one of my prize possessions.
I am proud to heat my modern home with traditional fire.

I am a naturalist-----but I can't claim to be an environmentalist if the claim involves a stop of all harvesting and the consumption of microwave manufactured food in plastic houses.

I am looking forward to fishing season.


I will post my entire rant on all that later.


A junk collector/relative/friend of mine came over to the shop yesterday
and brought an old surfboard he picked up from an estate sale on the north
coast of Oregon.

I thought----by some random chance----someone may recognize the old board.

The waveset fin box and fin date it to late 60's to early 70's.
It looks like a backyard boat builder board.
Someone had some innovative new ideas.
Check out the photo of the heavy 'V' in the tail.
Glassed heavy.

Recognize it?
Drop me a note.
coldwaverider@gmail.com

Happy Holidays....

Egg nog, rum, whiskey.
It was snowing this time last year.
This year it's 55 and sunny on Christmas.
Go figure.

This photo is of a beach in the Columbia River.
Generally flat.
Unless 30 foot swells in the ocean bring a few of these in.

Happy Holidays.

Surfing cold water equals freedom-----

Sunny December day.
Offshore winds.
No one out.
So many waves.
Tired.
Walk an empty beach.
To an empty parking lot.
Watch the ocean as I take off my wetsuit.
It's 32 degrees out.
But I am so warm?

Naked in the parking lot?
No one here?
What a dream.

Cold water.
Warm wetsuit.
FREEDOM.

This video clearly exemplifies the determination a few of us are defined by---- and proud of--- surfing in the cold and rugged north pacific.

Patagonia wetsuits ---- good karma----LOST and FOUND--- Don't lose the lesson in the loss

Two weeks ago I made a horrible mistake.
The sun was out, my wetsuit was wet, and I decided to lay it across the canopy on the back of my truck to dry it out.
We were having a great streak of surfing in the beginning of December----on the northern Oregon coast----and I was looking forward to another great day of head high waves with offshore wind.

But I made the mistake of leaving my wetsuit on the truck as I drove away in search of waves…………
And when I had realized what I had done----it was too late.
My beautiful wool lined wetsuit, made by Patagonia, is one of my prize possessions.
It allows me to surf in cold water and never feel anything but warm, cozy, and energized from the flexibility.
I have a love affair with clothing that allows me to enjoy the great outdoors. And this particular wetsuit was the best $600 I had ever spent for such adventures. I have lived and surfed in the cold water of Oregon for over 20 years and I have never been so comfortable surfing in the dead of winter----even when it is snowing.

My heart was racing-------because I had lost a huge sense of 'security in my lifestyle'.

I turned the truck around and scoured every inch of the country road I had traveled.
Grass-----blackberry bushes-----fir trees----and a few dead raccoons lined the edges of the asphalt.
But no wetsuit.

It had only been 15 minutes? And there are very few surfers in the area----who would have taken my suit.

I thought back to last winter when I first bought this suit.
And how I did the EXACT same thing after only owning the suit for 3 weeks.

I had to spray paint a sign on the road reading...
"Lost wetsuit---please call (my phone number)"

Miraculously a man had found the suit and called me....

Realizing this was the SECOND time I had lost my suit "to the road" was enough to convince me to lose hope.
I will never find it twice?
My karma is not that good?

I live in a fisherman rich area (not a rich fisherman area).

And commercial fisherman would recognize my hooded neoprene rubber suit as a survival suit. This is something they know is expensive……and so I wrote off the SECOND loss of my favorite piece of outdoor clothing-----and recited to myself……

“don’t lose the lesson in the loss”

I decided to roll my truck down to Cleanline surf shop and buy myself another suit---exactly the same.

My insecurities were eased as I knew I was 'back in heavenly warmth' with the wetsuit of my dreams---but I was indeed out another $600.

It has been 2 weeks.
I just returned from a trip to Portland where we did some Christmas shopping.
I didn’t really find anything to buy.
I came close.
When I was in a camera store I examined the idea of buying a camera strap for my father who is an avid photographer.
The camera strap was made of neoprene and I thought that it was unique and reminded me of a wetsuit. Completely by accident I had thrown one of the straps over my left hand (holding a bag) and walked out of the store with it.
When I had realized that I walked out with merchandise I didn’t pay for I had three thoughts.

1. I just got a free camera strap and they didn’t notice!?

2. I have a decision to make because I can go home with this strap and save myself $50 by giving it to my dad for a present.....or....??

3. I cannot walk away with this strap as it will surely confuse the karma in my life and nothing good will become of it------it’s wrong...….bad deal.

It wasn’t just the guilt----
I am not a thief.

And so-----I wandered back into the store----a bit embarrassed ----and a bit relieved----since none of the employees even saw me put it back on the shelf.



…………….Home------------it was a 2 hour drive through rain and fog.

Happy to be home…..I opened the daily newspaper and checked out the local happenings.

Not much new----------wandered to the classifieds------still nothing new-------------it‘s a small town and the classifieds literally stay the same for a week at a time.

Bored----I wander to the lost and found.
A section I never read.

But hey look that lost kitten looks like our cat Lilly??!?

But of course----Lilly is not lost she is right here eating her food.


And then-------my eyes wandered upon the magic of the human spirit.

The magic of the giving nature of humans which DOES still exist.

There were the words which I had to read three times to believe.

“FOUND: Wetsuit on 101 Business just before the Tire store. Call to identify--”

And the phone number ----which I called ….still in disbelief.

The little old lady who answered explained that she knew that wetsuits were expensive and that she would not want to lose anything like that--------because she is on a limited income and would hate to lose something so valuable.

We talked for a few minutes and agreed to meet tomorrow for the exchange.

She will give me the wetsuit------and I am giving her a gift certificate for a LARGE QUANTITY of coffee drinks from her favorite coffee stand.

Upon hanging up the phone I reflected on the entire day………..I thought about the camera strap………made of neoprene……….the same material this wetsuit is made of………and how life has an amazing way of teaching us things.

How I felt like I was doing right by returning the camera strap today-------but another part of me was kicking and screaming saying that I was ‘losing’ something that I could walk away with for free.

No one would ever notice.

But sometimes we have to lose------and not ‘lose the lesson in the loss’.

Even when it involves feeling like we are losing something when we are really doing something RIGHT.

Would I have even read the newspaper tonight?
Would I instead have been too busy wrapping my dads present?

Tomorrow-----------I am going surfing----------in the wetsuit that was given BACK to me.

I am not losing the lesson in that loss.

Testing nature....we are all an experiment.

You tell me?
What makes us try such things?

These photos were taken in our beloved Oregon ocean...near Newport.

http://www.surfline.com/surf-news/sequence-of-the-week-ollie-richardsons-giant-wipeout_39144/1/

Surfing the great lakes

It's real.

Check it.

The Pro Leisurist

I just finished watching a 30 minute segment of television about a professional surfer who lives in San Diego county. His giant afro of light brown hair throws him into a very predictable stereotype and the camera lights were sure to exemplify every salt and sun bleached tip of each curl. He speaks slow and draws out his sentences as if to prove that he is sinking deep into zen to find answers to the interviewers questions.
The camera pans to a clip of the pro surfer driving his brand new car along Highway 101 in San Diego. The music in the background is folksy and cheery ….and attempts to persuade the viewer that this pro surfer’s life is one led by humility.
He is narrating and explaining how he finds that when the surf is bad he spends more time with his kids and wife. And when the surf is good he “just has to get out there”.
I am frustrated when I realize that he really thinks we are in church and I have given him a place at the pulpit. His life of leisure doesn’t make me jealous. In fact, his lack of challenge in his life is quite depressing to a person such as myself who enjoys life’s trials.
But his life of leisure does make me think---------what has our society become that we can afford the glorification of such gluttony?

The camera then follows the ’professional surfer’s’ flipping flops in through the giant glass doorway of a very popular clothing company who sponsors much of his livelihood.
The confusion and frustration in my thoughts continue as he explains his role at the company.

“I have been working with Reef shoes for a while now---trying to create a flip flop that is more sustainable and friendly to the environment.”
He holds up a rubber flip flop, bends it in his hands, and continues to explain how this particular rubber is harvested from rubber trees in a region where it has ’less impact’ on the surrounding environment.
The camera again pans---the music changes----more upbeat---inspirational---yet remaining folksy and humorously humble.
“We also decided to branch out further and create and entirely organic clothing line.“ The pro surfer explained. “ It’s small now, but I would like to see the line grow and make an impact”

Here is where he lost me.
Here is where I lost it.

I have been wrestling with this thought for many months.
The wrestling thought has nothing to do with surfing.
It is simply that surfing, as a professionally sponsored lifestyle, is a great example of the concept I have been wrestling with.

In the early 1960’s surfing was not even a sport. It was more of a lifestyle of convenience for those who were fortunate enough to live in an area that was warm, with a warm ocean, and consistent small to medium sized waves for year round enjoyment.
California was the perfect stage for surfing to act upon----and cast it’s theatrical spell on youth culture.

The fascination grew due to phenomenon’s like Beach Boy’s music, surfing Elvis Presley and Beach Blanket Bingo movies shown nationwide. Eventually, the lifestyle moved away from extreme leisure and more into the mainstream as thousands of people picked up the fascination with beach culture.
A sport evolved---and competitions arose.

And finally, through the miracle of mass textile manufacturing, surf fashion was birthed.
There were many small brands that pushed the fashion movement in the beginning.
But it was probably Ocean Pacific, also known as OP, who really pushed the mass migration of surf wear into the Midwest and beyond.

Southern California has remained at the epicenter of this fashion movement. It’s beaches are full of these fortunate modern children of Cicero who grow up in million dollar homes next to sun drenched beaches.

Without boring the non surfer, or disinterested reader, with the details I will get to my point.

The surf fashion industry is enormous. The logos plastered all over shirts are impossible to miss.
A few you may recognize from past and present are Billabong, Hurley, Op, Gotcha, No Fear, Reef, Rusty, Roxy and the mega giant Quiksilver.
Make no mistake about it, these are now giant companies in the industry of fashion.
In September of 2008 Quiksilver reported that it’s consolidated net revenues from continued operations for the third quarter of 2008 were a little over $564 million. Quiksilver brand clothes are sold in over 90 countries and it’s worldwide headquarters are in Huntington Beach, California. There is no question that just this one company sold an exuberant amount of clothing-----all in the name of surfing.
Is it any coincidence that Huntington Beach, and Los Angeles county, have some of the most polluted ocean water in the United States? It only goes to prove the level of apathy which exists in Southern California’s modern movement of convenient ignorance. Surf fashion is a proud child of the lifestyle.

Back to the pro surfer who makes his living off this parade. Or should I say he parades his living in order to call himself a pro surfer?
The pro surfer who wants to encourage his sponsor to make an ‘all organic line’ of clothing.
He wants this line to “grow and make an impact”. What this calculates to is that he wants the clothing line to sell large volumes and make his sponsor high profits.
This pro surfer is convinced that by doing so he may actually make a difference in the way surfers, and fashion minded people, view the environment which he believes we need to sustain. The only difference it’s going to make is ensuring his life of leisure.

Here is my point:
Is it possible that we have gone way beyond necessities and instead we now fret, toil, work and sweat to buy non essentials? Is it possible that we have become a society of people who are so gluttonous, so consuming, and so ego centric that we have lost who we really are as humans. Is it possible that our ego’s and our need to be continually labeled and viewed by status have overwritten our simple need to sustain and survive?
Is it possible that we are so concerned about how other’s view us, and what group they put us into, that was have over spent, over consumed and over whelmed the earth with industrial production?

Case in point: That organic surf wear t-shirt is $28.….and by buying it you will help the environment?
A clothing company can make t-shirts with their logos on them, in various styles and colors, and people will pay that said company for the right to wear that logo.

Yes, you can advertise for a fashion company by promoting their logo on your chest or back.
And you will pay $28 to do so.

That clothing company will make so much money doing so this year that they can afford to pay pro surfers, whom I now call ‘professional leisurists’, to wander around the world enjoying themselves mindlessly.
These pro leisurists will burn jet fuel while talking on their cell phones to their children at home. These pro surfers will come back to Southern California and continue to promote the beauty of surfing in a polluted ocean, breathing polluted air, and wearing fashionable clothing which YOU need to buy more of… to be like them.

And somehow----one of those ‘pro leisurists’ has become so enamored by the offer, that he is actually losing his senses and thinking he can “make a difference” by promoting a line of organic surf fashion?

The problem----is the rapid consumption and strong delusion we have all come under.
The answer is not in making more organic clothing for consumers to buy.
The answer is buying and consuming less, period, so that the organic things which are still alive on this shrinking planet will actually find a little dirt to grow in.

As for me, I am thankful that my family and I found dirt to grown in. We live in the country, I work for our food, and I am going surfing in cold and clean ocean water tomorrow morning.

3 to 10 seconds of BLISS

It's an amazing and unique phenomenon when you experience the sensation. Riding a moving set of electrons which are pushing through a mass of water we call the ocean.
The initial step of relinquishing control over the situation is essential. Dropping into a wave means entering into a moment of temporary chaos and choosing to remain calm and react to what is in front of you ----rather than try to control the powerful moving mass of water.
The larger the wave, the less control you really have as a fleshly human.
The most fortifying events in surfing happen when no one is looking. There is no stadium of onlookers or even a parent warming a bleacher while watching you ride the wave. These moments do not edify the surfer with any sort of 'external approval'. And therefore they only add to the personal element of the experience. With so much happening while riding a wave---there is not a moment to think of who one is, where one is going, or why one exists. It is simply a moment of non judgment where as the rider experiences a true state of bliss.

Doctor Deepak Chopra put this experience into a very simple quote which exemplifies how to reach such a state. Surfing simply helps a person achieve it for 3 to 10 seconds at a time---the average length of a wave surfed.

“If you want to reach a state of bliss, then go beyond your ego and the internal dialogue with ones self. Make a decision to relinquish the need to control, the need to be approved, and the need to judge. Those are the three things the ego is doing all the time. It's very important to be aware of them every time they come up.”

Can you see it....

Six headlands jut into the North Pacific along this stretch from Manzanita to the Columbia river, linked by 22 mile long beaches and scattered rock reefs. Not so much a surfing destination as a place of brooding potential for the hearty ocean loving surfer. This land lies shrouded in fog and rain clouds many days of the year and serves as a graveyard to numerous ships, the bodies of sailors laid to rest in the depths just off the sand.
But there are waves, and living here one comes to know the moods of the coast...and embracing each of them in their moment of glory is undeniably magical. These moments fortify one's connection with nature and help to define a meaning for existence---thankfulness.

Good surf is a matter of perspective and the ocean, alive with activity , gives it's own rewards to those to offer themselves day after day. The very inconsistency of the weather in this place, it's shifts and subtle changes, make it a shangra la for an adventurous person.

That is, if one has eyes to see it that way?

The springtime winds seem relentless, causing a brown sediment rich cold water upwelling. Giant 30 pound Chinook and Coho salmon taste the sediment runoff from the rivers spilling into the ocean. Scientists still do not understand why these fish swim relentlessly from the ocean up the rivers to lay their eggs, fertilize, breed, and then peacefully die. This amazing pursuit of life and death unfolds as a drama that is unseen by the average person. The roaring river and ocean overtaking every sense we have. It is hard to imagine that all this said life abounds beneath me as I paddle out to the surf which breaks at the mouth of a river.
The wind blows and stirs up the ocean into a frenzy. Still the surface is smooth in these certain coves and hidden special places. Headlands on two sides form a reserve from the elements by blocking the wind and smoothing out the chop on the water. These coves have their own unique climate and they defy the forces of nature which attempt to stir their peace.
It is purifying to find waves in such coves where you may have to hike 2 miles through 200 year old forests before you even see the water. I am assured the waves will be all mine----until someday another adventurous soul decides to wander in after researching just exactly what weather pattern will create the wave which breaks there. Amidst the saltwater baptism I feel in this place is a cathedral of sky....the dome of which is painted anew each day. There is no greater art on the planet than the clouds which are painted on the sky above.

That is, if one has eyes to see it?

To squint at the sun and make everything golden.
To tilt your head back and accept the rain on your face---letting it naturally moisturize your lines of age.
Age is just a metaphor to attempt to explain how many experiences you have had in your life.
But the experiences here are so aplenty.
In God's eyes I must be 500 years old.

If wealth were measured by the amount of beauty surrounding one in their life....I would be the richest man in Babylon. A rich man with experience of ages from so many moments of clarity and beauty?

The North Coast of Oregon on the mighty North Pacific Ocean.

..
Home.
Can you see it?