Submitted for general disapproval: This video, in which Spat commits a sin against the art of surfing that is so grievous that censors intervened.
Dubbed the Dirty Goleta (derived from the contemporaneous paint job on the Devereaux Grafitti Hut, where the atrocity took place) the offending man-eu-ver proves that kook DNA runs deep ...
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Surfing in Santa Barbara means contending with consistently underwhelming waves. The upside? Plenty of time to hone kayak fishing techniques, spear fishing tactics and campfire tending skills.
That's exactly how it played out at Refugio state beach on Spat Out in Glory's latest barrel quest. One with local knowledge might question the choice of destinations: Refugio? AKA Refoofio? AKA the least barreling wave on California's central coast? (Video after the jump.)
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Names that echo through surfing: Big Bonzai Pipeline, Critical Ghost Tree, Scary Puerto. And, of course, Knee-Slappin' Devereaux.
Spat out in Glory has had about three false starts getting more footage since the return from Nicaragua's golden surf spots. Finally it came together this week. Time, waves (of a sort), functioning camera equipment. At Devereaux. Where it all started back in '81. (Video after the jump.)
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Surf film-wise, Spat Out in Glory put the cart before the horse in 10,000 ways.
A catalog of these failures: Drafting the Camera Monkey as cinematographer without prior consultation with said monkey. Going to Nicaragua packing a Super 8 camera without having become acquainted with (practically) any of its functionalities. Going to Nicaragua without appropriate film stocks. Etc., etc., etc.
It's fair to ask whether this project can be redeemed. But first, an update ...
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Good surf films inspire self loathing. Regrets regarding a life not chosen. Feelings of athletic inferiority. A sense that grad school was an irredeemable cop out.
(Unless you happen to be a pro surfer who attended the last North Shore Roxy House end-of-season party. Those who fit this description can stop reading here.)
Great surf films do all these things and actually ... wait for it ... tell a STORY. ...
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Spat Out in Glory is coiled like a spring, ready to shoot film any time a swell hits.
Beaulieu 4008ZM Super 8 gear and film always at hand. Canon HD video cam perpetually primed. GoPro board cam at ready. Boards waxed.
But we aren't in Nicaragua any more, Toto. Now filming sessions are calendared events. As was the case last week. Summer break and the nephews are out of school. Off the grandmother's house we go. South to Santa Barbara. ...
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Aside from an exploratory go-out at Pleasure Point in Santa Cruz, Spat Out in Glory has gotten damn dried out recently. Until last week.
It promised to be epic: A Santa Barbara surf safari. The forecast said June gloom would be defied by unseasonably blue skies. Swellinfo.com called for a little energy to roll in Sunday, maybe showing early on Saturday. The Camera Monkey had blown town to bring in some jack. The agenda was blank. Why not lay down some video? Shoot some Super 8 surf magic?
The answers to the questions came too easy. The fog monster sat down on Santa Barbara the whole time. Hard. A low pressure trough sat inland, sucking wind and moisture off the ocean. West winds blowing down the latitudinal coastline, pushing windswell over on itself. Mush. Malaise. No sunshine, no energy. ...
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“Point Break,” the execrable, fantastical, lucrative 1991 action/surf film, is reviled by surfers. They bemoan it as crass Hollywood surfsploitation.
They're totally missing the point.
Why? Because in all the film’s dishonesty, it addresses the most important problem every surfer confronts. Amid its lies about surfing, “Point Break” reveals a profound truth. In so doing, the movie proves itself more honest than the barrel n’ aerial porn churned out by the corpo-surf propaganda machine. ...
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With the late 1970s film 'Stylemasters,' Super 8 surf-movie pioneers Greg Weaver and Spyder Wills pushed the format to the limit in terms of photography. 'Stylemasters 2,' filmed in 1980 and 1981, takes Super 8 a step forward in image quality and throws in native sound.
The result is deeper immersion in the culture of the North Shore at the apogee of the single-fin shortboard revolution.
This cinematic time-capsule approach pours honey on the synapses of hard-core surf movie junkies. It probably leaves less obsessive audiences wondering why their surf-geek friends are wiping the dribble off their chins. Video after the jump...
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