Posts tagged ocean

Finally, the weekend. Ahhh….. some time to work on the board. We’re so close I can smell it. Or that might be resin fumes. My brain feels tingly. Anyway, gloss coat on top and bottom today. So stoked. We’re water tight now. Only a light sand to go and we’re done. Can’t wait.



So, I scored a 6’6 Freestyle single fin on Ebay. It needs love. Like, a lot of really hot steamy love. The tail and nose are fuxxored, the deck has puncture holes, the bottom of the board has been left in the sun and has brittle glass, and it’s yellow. I’m pretty sure if you put it in water right now it would sink and dissolve. Apart from all that it’s near perfect.

Last night Al and I used the Great Idea Generator, also known as red wine, to come up with a plan of attack for restoring this sucker. There was a few ‘you need some glass here’ and a couple of ‘hmm, you’d have to bog that there’ and more than a few ‘is the blank fucked there?’. But in the end we agreed that it’s definitely salvageable. So stay with me over the course of the next few weeks as we put our collective repair skills to the test and get this relic back in the water.

Welcome to The Single Fin Project.

Sometime after you realise that struggling will do you no good, but before your vision starts to tunnel out, an immeasurable well of clarity engulfs you. Above you the ocean is churning, wrestling tigers in a dusty ring. Below, the ocean flaw, a convent nun watching a child being bullied but refusing to intervene.

The burning starts in your extremities; Arms and Legs. Cells that formed the bullock teams dragging you to the surface moments ago are collapsing, poisoning each other. Your lungs and brain are at war. Your lungs have forced every last oxygen molecule into your blood stream. They have kept you fighting. Every capillary, every alveoli turns itself inside out to save you. The command from your lungs is simple: BREATH.

Your brain knows a single breath now will fill both lungs and stomach with sickly water. After which, even a fresh breath of air will fail to nourish your dying body. Your brain is right. You can trust your brain.

Can you trust your brain? You can trust your brain until you hit the bottom of that well of clarity. The impact of the fall kills your rational mind. You’re an animal now. Your deprived brain is incapable of higher order function. Instinct and reflex are your murderous lovers.

Your limbs fire with a final burst. Disorientated you swim desperately. Your shoulder and jaw slam into the sand as you are swept along. The bone that seats your teeth clicks sideways. Molars jam into each other wedging your cheek between. You lurch and cough, burping air and blood into the dark.

Instincts right you and again you push with burning quads off the ocean floor. You race through the stillness into the spiraling turbulence above. The temptation to breath is now your apple and asp. You are jerked left and right but still rising. The momentum though, is dying. You are dying. The surface must be near.