…describe the circumstances and what you were riding.
In Tahiti with Laird riding a 9’6" multi stringer balsa board. Was locked inside for so long they gave up on me until I popped out and over the top…in my dreams!
I cut school one weekday and lucked into a freak early south swell in Santa Cruz back in 1968 or 69. Me, John Mann and two others sharing maxed-out Stockton Avenue. I was riding a flex spoon kneeboard with this really stupid finger fin. John was on an early twin fin foamy kneelo. We were all getting probably the best tubes of our lives. I was making about half my count 'cause the finger fin would let go unpredictably.
I took off on one a hair to the right of the peak. John went for the same wave but way left of the back door (To the knowledgable, an unmakeable situation). I glanced left and knew John was cooked. I pulled in and set my line and watched the lip fold over. Zipppp, the fin let go and I slid tail first down the face.
In the nano second before I entered the rinse cycle I remember seeing John’s wake spiral by me and flashed on John pulling an upsidedown, full G-force carve in the hook.
I’ve gotten my share of shacks since but that one is still stuck in my mind as clear as the day it happened.
In 97’ I was on the Anne Judith II, heading back to Bali on a 12 day jaunt that sailed Lombok and Sumbawa.
The cast was 5 Americans, 6 Austrailians and a crew of 3.
Day 9 brought us to DESERT POINT.
The week previous had brought us dream after dream of better and better surf.
And just when we thought the fantasy couldn’t get any better, early morning our captain
brought the sailboat motoring slowly past what seemed to be a local yacht race, but was actually local fishermen
in their what appeared to be single maybe double-man out-riggers with the sails flying and passing with as much intrigue in their eye’s
as was with our returning stares.
Now the beauty of what is unfolding all around us is quickly squandered by what was happening just off the port bow.
At this point the peanut gallery is all hands everywhere, with mouths wide open and oohs and ahhs and every expleitive imaginable
was worked into a somewhat comprehensible setence that conveyed what was being displayed before everyone’s eye’s.
We were witnessing wave’s that brought new meaning to cliche’s, and there was only three guy’s allready in the line up, trading
perfection after perfection of overhead to bigger waves that seemed to peel forever.
So to get back to the topic, after enjoying about an hour of pure perfection, I was in line up with my freind as a bigger than previous set started to roll through, where just he and I were the only combatants in the mix, and as we both paddled into a late set, he was on the inside of me but I just knew he wouldn’t go. I didn’t hesitate at all as the face seemed to disappear into a concave nightmare
that spelled no exit. Paddling like my life depended on it, I got to my feet as the lip behind me started it’s jouney and my buudy in his
pull out stage; at this point I knew it was my wave and it was bigger and crazier than anything I had ever faced, but as I made my way to the bottom, I turned as if I was going to carve or do something else stupid up top, but I swear this wave spoke to me telling me to relax, and stall. And just as I did this wave started to hold me like an infant, the lip pitched out over my head and the world
seemed to go quiet, the only sound prevelant was that of me and my board hauling ass through this indonesian barrel getting deepper and deepper, this clear canopy shade growing darker as I just sat ther riding relaxed and in awe, completey amazed at the view I had from the inside as I watched one of the froggy’s who had been in the line-up before us stop and hoot and throw his arms up as he was paddling up the face on the shoulder, stopping to recognize a stranger and give him praise, and at that moment as we share trading glances and stoke it seems I excellerate even more as I begin to get shot out of the barrel just as the frog falls down the backside and begins his route again. I do two effortless turns off the top and scream louder each time before I finally kick out.
So yeah, I guess that was my best tube ride…
Johnny....................
Well mine isn’t anything spetacular…
Back in probably 1990 with sohaole and another friend in IB, down at the jetty. Took off, got locked in for what seemed like forever and then came out. Both of my friends said that even though they could see the color of my board through the wave, they thought I’d eaten it…I made the barrel and that still stands out as one of most fun sessions ever (I’ve never travled anywhere besides Baja and Ohau, where I did NOT score) Probably about shoulder-head high and I was riding a seriously pressure dinged 6’0" Rusty tri-fin. I still remember that like it was yesterday…
My best tube ride wasn’t so much about the wave, but how and where I was in my life at the time. Like LeeV’s story, mine takes place decades ago in a small coastal town in Socal. The place exists in name only now, no longer are there quiet streets, small mom-and-pop shops, and friendly strangers, but freeway overpasses, underground parking lots, and incidents of road rage.
This was when Tom Curren was a teenager and in high school, making a name for himself and a lifestyle for his future by surfing. His impact to the sport of surfing we all know about now, but then I just went to school with him
.
This was the time when George Greenough had a sailboat in Marina 4 and on some days you could see him motoring around in “The Thing”. I watched as he outfitted his sailboat with all these intriguing gadgets, boards, etc. and then depart for the South Pacific. I didn’t know him to well, hell I was just a kid. But I lived on a sailboat 10 slips away.
On the pecking order of surfers, I was near the bottom. More of a geek, and always low profile, I surfed an old G&S kneeboard that was painted white due to all the sun damage it had. I didn’t use Churchill fins or duck feet, but one Jet fin. You remember Lloyd Bridges in SeaHunt? He used Jet fins, ……and so did the Marines, for that fact. Big and heavy, they were.
Since I lived in the harbor, I usually surfed the Sandspit when the swell made it thru the Channel Islands. I sat about half way down the spit, picking off waves the surfers up at the top of the break let by. I was somewhat intimidated by the suck up, steep take-off , and the rocks at the end of the breakwater didn’t help either , so I was happy with the hand-me-downs from the better surfers.
That’s the how and where of my life then, and this is my story………
The dock lines were creaking. That’s what woke me. The boat was surging at the dock and the lines were complaining. There was a swell running , and it was making it’s way into the harbor. I got up, suited up, grabbed my board and walked out to the end of Marina 4, jumped in the water and paddled across to the sandspit. It was twilight and the lights on TV Hill and the beacon on top of the Granada Theater where twinkling in the early morning sky. A warm Santa Ana wind was lightly blowing down State Street, along Stearns Wharf, out across the sand spit, and into the faces of perfect low-tide smoking barrels. This was the best I had seen the sandspit. Ever.
No one was out. Nobody.
Needless to say, I surfed hard. I rode waves like a crazed mad man, consuming them like a starving animal. I was taking off deep in the pit, maybe I’d make, if not I was right back out there. A slight correction in my placement, and I was at it again. This went on for a while until I started to notice headlights on the end of Stearns Wharf shining out at the break. High beams. Multiple cars. Guys on dawn patrol. I muttered something about the early bird getting the worm.
Soon the crowd would show, and I’d be crowded out. Now I surfed smart. I picked and chose the best wave out of a set. If I wasn’t in the best position, I’d let the wave go and set up for the next. I know it’s a clique but it wasn’t about quantity, it was about quality.
I got some good tube time that morning, the best in my life up until then. It took awhile before others showed, but by then my arms were like weights and I was all surfed out. It was time to make the trip back to the boat.
You know Dale, I’ve surfed bigger, and faster, and deeper, and longer tubes since then, but I don’t remember those. Damn, there are waves I got blown out of the tube and if someone were there to ask me how was it? It would be like asking me what I had for breakfast. “ I don’t really remember, but I know it was good”. But I remember with such detail, some thirty years ago, a morning surf session at Santa Barbara Sandspit.
I think my best tube ride was the very first one.
The ususal spot looked mushy and crowded,so I decided to cruise down the beach
and look for something…and there it was, looking awesome. A sandbar that created a perfect right. Every wave(tube)looked pretty much the same and no one out.
I think I tried at least 15 times bofore I got caught inside. I still remember i was impressed by the change of sound and everything. I dont know the dimesions but it was an 6’2" Eric arakawa that my wife had run over with our car before…
Too many categories. All perfect in their own way.
Most perfect, short, round, dry, Woolamai, amazing beachbreaks, my board around 6’2" single, 80’s.
Biggest, suckiest, standup, plenty of close-outs, pressurised, Powlet River beachbreaks, my board 7’2" single, 80’s.
Most warped, squating, lip threw horizontal, Maloolaba, my board 6’0" single, late 80’s.
Best backside, smallish, layback, two joining sections, dry, full rail kickout with hoot, clubhouse carpark Woolamai, my board 5’10" single, early 80’s.
Longest, several blend together, 6 to 8 foot west sets, only me many times, early, perfect, dawn, light offshore, speeding, manouvring, dropping, climbing, watching the lip hit the trough ahead of me, St. Leu, my boards 6’2" to 6’8", in-line singles, 90’s.
Surfing is amazing.
If I never catch another wave, I will still die wiith a smile on my face.
Dale, thanks for jogging my memory.
Not real sure of the date, not real sure of which board or exactly which spot, but…
It was late summer or early fall, getting on towards evening with sunset colors starting to happen…
Not especially big, one sandbar-off-the-beach break, a left perhaps, just took it and went and I remember watching the lip hitting the flat ahead of me to the right, translucent silver wall between me and the sunset, the sound of the it hitting like water being poured into a pond and that sound just went on and on. For some reason it didn’t seem to roar and such as it usually does, just that sound of water falling into water cleanly.
There have been bigger tubes I’ve managed to get before and since, faster, flashier, but that crisp one from way back when has stuck with me all these years. There was a simple perfection to it that hasn’t gone away.
doc…
No way I can say the Best. The most memorable tube riding session was in 1979, Northern Baja, just me and the boys out taking turns getting barreled. Over and over again. Our faces hurt from grinning and laughing. I’ve never had backside tubes like that, I suppose. I think the board was a 6’8" John Mel rounded pin single I brought home from school break. Saw a bloody tampon in the water that day so had a gamma glob shot when I got home. Like shooting peanut butter into your ass. The surf was worth it, of course. One of my all time best surfs. I miss those runs to Baja. Mike
Second reef Pipeline, winter 1974. It kinda jacked when it hit the inside reef. I thought it was a close out but pulled up anyway. No one was more surprised than me when I came out the end. Spit real hard which kept it open for just a second longer allowing the escape. I was riding an 8’ Brewer shaped by Owl. Haven’t thought of that in a while… thanks Dale…
Quote:
Saw a bloody tampon in the water that day so had a gamma glob shot when I got home. Like shooting peanut butter into your ass.
Uhh…Just a liiiiiiiiiitle too much info there…
It’s a toss up between my first tube ride, when I was REAL little. Or a couple years ago at Hatteras during the Hurricane Isabel storm.
Since I remember the details of the latter one, I’ll go with that one. I was riding a funshape at the time, because it was the only other board I had with me after my shortboard busted just a few minutes before.
It was a 7’2" shaped by Scott Brill in Central Florida and was REAL thick. People often called it a “lake surfing” board because it was thick from nose to tail. I’m not sure how or why it even made the trip with us, more than likely because it was left in the truck and we didnt feel like taking it back. We figured we could leave it unattended in the truck with no worries.
I forgot to bring a leesh with it however, and for whatever reason didnt think of using my shortboard’s leesh. I NEVER surf without a leesh, but for some reason after my shortboard broke I went out on the funshape without a leesh.
Anyway, first wave I caught was a beauty. Big and clean and powerful. Well, big for the east coast at least - back home it wouldnt be anything special, but having spent a few years on the east coast - I learned to appreciate any swell I could get.
In any case, I took the tube and was pretty deep, but I realized as soon as I pulled that thick slice of meat pie into the tube that I was not making it out. The board began to wobble and instead of taking my fall like a man, I just jumped off the board, and bodysurfed the tube out.
I went in with a board, and came out looking like Shane Dorian in SS. The board washed up to shore on the next wave, undinged. It was a Cape Hatteras miracle. Definately one of the more memorable moments in surfing for me.
Aloha
Bryan
Rincon on the day after the Rincon Classic 1984. 8’8" Russell-Hurd backyard board that I dubbed the Magical Mystery Tour board. It was the year after the huge winter and was generally small but very cleanly shaped tubes most of the year but this particular day it was decent size with extremely well shaped tubes. The one I remember most was probably head-high. I took off and assumed my favorite position which was a crouch with my arm stuck into the wall. I had my arm into the wall almost to my elbow and was watching the color of the wall as it sucked over me when I noticed that it was squaring off and the color was changing to sandy brown. I decided that I should release my arm from the wall, which I did and came out of the tube and went directly into the next tube section on the other side of the inside sand bar that we affectionately called"the Ledge" or sometimes the “Sledge” depending on whether or not you made it or were pummeled by it. I don’t have a clear memory of what happened after that but I finished off down by the sea wall by the light standard. On my way back to paddle back out I was stopped by one witness who said “You probably don’t know where you were, but you were there”. I indeed knew where I had been and have never forgotten it. One friend who witnessed the ride said that he could see me through the curtain as I went by. That whole season was filled with small but totally makeable tubes and great shape. Tubes are great! Hope you get one!
It would have been earlier this winter. One of those mid to late January North swells that kicked up in Ventura. Went out Saturday with my neighbor. Fair size and fun time. 1st time surfing C-street. Went back the next day solo. Paddled out to the point. It was fairly big, but made it out without too much trouble, on my 9’0" 2+1 flat bottom Realm. I sat out there for a while a little afraid to take off. I had only been back surfing 3 to 5 times after a LONG break (early 80s). After turning to paddle into several and pulling out because there was at least 1 or more guy between me and the peak, a big outside set rolled in. By now it had gotten quite a bit bigger than when I first paddled out, and I was getting tired of paddling around in circles (giving the right of way, and chasing the outside set) and still no wave for me. Everyone raced outside. I started to, then turned and took the first and smallest wave of the set. It was my biggest standup wave to date. It was a long right, and fell out the back side after getting caught to high on the wave while going to the nose. Still I took off out on the point and ended up south of the parking lot pay shack. I tried to paddle out, but got caught inside. Finally gave up and paddled in. Now at the pipe. I walked back to the point and tried to paddle out again. Again gave up and paddled in at the pipe. That day you could have ridden from the point to the pier.
By now I was hooked, but I had driven 1hr plus spent more than an hour in the water and only had 1 wave. Sure it was a great wave, but time in the water away from my wife and 2 boys is rare, so I decided to drive north and look for another spot that might have been smaller or easier to get out. I did not care f the wave was big, I need to ride.
I stopped at every spot I could see the waves, till I got to the oil pier (Punta Gordo), looked like I could get out here. I suited up again and paddled out. With a lot of work I got out. Sat in the line up, again a little scared to take off. Again paddled for a number of waves but had to pull out because of some guy to my left with better paddle technique and earlier wave entry. Finally I was in the right place and it was my turn. I would have pulled out, but I had been out there too long and had not caught a wave yet. I had to go, even if I did not make the drop. I angled down the face, popped up quick (I’ve always had a pretty quick pop-up, faster than my skill might indicate), made a half bottom turn half face turn, leaned into the curling wall and planted my gloved hand into the face of a beautiful double over head curl. Guessing a 12-15’ face. Definitely the biggest wave I had ridden and a stand up barrel. Was not that deep in the curl but it was pitching overhead, and was a real rush. Rode it right out and off the shoulder. Now I am 2 for 2. 2 waves and my 2 biggest waves of my standup surfing life. It was one of those days where every time an outside set came in I was not sure I’d make it over the top. Unfortunately I was also wearing a hood, so I don’t know what it sounded like, but I liked it. The next wave I got into was the 3rd biggest wave I’d ridden. That day I realized that while my 9’0" caught waves better than the short boards I grew up surfing, nearly everyone else out there that day had a faster paddling board with earlier wave entry (several knee paddlers, and guns). I was in the market for a new board. That is how I ended up here at Swaylocks. Unfortunately now I have retasted the bigger sets, I’m not happy sitting inside swiping up more than my fare share of the leftovers. Now I have to fight my turn in the lineup like everyone else.
Jumping back to the early 80s, best tube rides would have been boggie boarding, body surfing, and skimboarding at the Wedge on big South swells. I was one of the guys who only went out if a hurricane had come through baha and was sitting in the window. 20’ faces seem really big when only your head pops out of the water, but then it is a little easier to dive under without a board, or with only a boggie. Steep drop, sometimes elevator shaft, bottom turn and covered up. Sometimes you make it out, sometimes you pick up the peices in the sand after a long holddown. Too old, returned to standup too late, and too much responsibility to experience that feeling again.
Oh yeah and had some good knee barrles at 36th street in Newport on the (5’6" I think) orange single fin on my web site after I out grew it as a standup board.
Thanks Dale and everyone else who helped me relive that feeling.
Is anywhere breaking right now (11:50pm 
My last trip to the Mentawais. A place called Rifles (someone called it Kandui Right). got the place epic for a full day. DOH at the take off. Some rides were more than several hundred yards; fast as you can go. I’ve surfed Maalaea pretty good and good Kirra and this place rivals both. I was on my 6’3" round tail I made for the trip. (The waves are so clean that it is advantageous to use minimal equipment; keeps th fins off the foam ball in the barrel). Got a GOOD one, tubed from take off all the way through. But I wasn’t thinkin “Oh I’m tubed” more like “GO! pump, make the next section!” Most of the ride, I felt like I wasn’t going to make it. Thirty foot sections of lip would all come over, then just as you come out to day light, the NEXT section ALREADY has thrown out. At home, I would jump off or straighten out, but there, the only option is to drive, stay centered, and act like you are going to make it; even if it seems hopeless. I remember seeing the lip throw yards ahead and hitting the flats before I even got to that section. Threading through, kind of coming out, ANOTHER section. The wave did it for all SEVEN sections. Pretty shook after the ride. I was in auto-pilot on the way back out. Within an hour I got another one almost like that epic one. Quite a rush…
could have been at a Mexican beach break 20 some years ago.could have been at my local spot during el nino '97 or it could be it just hasn’t happened yet…
at the ranch in the mid seventies on aLis fish kneeboard in 6-10 ft perfect ,offshore , nias-type ,dredging ,flawless only one out:) On one wave I still remember doing a full rail bottom turn with the lip hitting about five feet in front of me and coming off the top in the tube.
…Summer of 99’
… in coming tide, at a local rivermouth break. there were about 7 long tuberides I got from 60seconds to nearly 2minutes long.This is in the hole ,not in the shadows tube rides.I was the first or four out that morning ,and my best buddy Wayne timed three of them while standing in the shorebreak,watching, stunned.This sounds like the break described above…jetty?
…Funny how you travel the world for that perfect tube…and I get it at the most unlikely spot,right in my own backyard.Herb
It was some autumn afternoon, grey-orange skies, little light, no wind, and the beach in front of the sail club was empty, just footsteps for witness of busier times.
We were four out there. The weather was about to jump to storm, and it was very silent, just the sound of the waves breaking… but me was too high from this perfection to actually notice any sounds, the waves had my full and undivided attention.
The waves were really good for Dutch standards, clean, about shoulder high, and brown, muddy colored, sometimes running the full distance to shore, sometimes closing down. We were sharing theses waves, and everybody was racing, flying and going crazy on the waves. This wave that came, was just like any other, apart from the fact that after my bottom turn, i automatically locked in. The tube lasted a few seconds till it had taken me to the beach. Fully stoked still to remember, the best memories are always from my own dutch beachies.
And yours Dale? What is your best tube-ride?