Carve Magazine Issue 199

Hello you

Our mantra here at Carve has always been: surfing is fun.
So the magazine reflects that as much as possible. Sure we cover serious topics and talk to serious people. The thing that binds us together is a shared love of sliding around in the salt because it’s one of the most fun things you can do. It’s an escape from the stress of life on land. A release from the shackles of gravity. A commune with nature.
If you’re good at it, some can even make it their living — the ultimate in getting paid to do what you love.
Us magazine folk don’t live the glamorous jet-setting lives of pro surfers, sure we travel more than most, admittedly a lot less than we used to.
We are here to document the goings-on in the British, Irish and world surf scene. So in a ‘getting paid to do what you love’ sense we’re also winning.
A small team runs the mag in a compact and bijou family-owned publishing house. We’re ably assisted by freelance photogs and writers all over the shop.
It’s a labour of love bringing you eight mags a year when print media isn’t having the best of times globally. Niche titles, like ours, are surviving because they talk to a distinct crowd, as in you lot, and getting the internet ad dollar together to get good content is tricky for online-only sites when Google and FB rob all the $$$.
So we here. We doing it. Proud to be paper. Print’s not dead. Etc.
The only issue with having a team you can count on the fingers of one hand is if one, or even two, of those fingers gets stomped on you’re in the poop.
Somehow the swirling hand of fate decided that the recent few weeks was a good a time as any for our designer James and my respective mums to pass away suddenly.
When it comes to a kick in the balls that makes it hard to concentrate on work, not to mention feeding and cleaning yourself, it’s a doozy. Of course, the powers that be have freely allowed us all the time we need to sort things out, but mags don’t make themselves.
Bereavement is a personal thing, and no one knows how it will affect them. Suffice to say it leads to a lot of thinking, tears, reflection, depression and in my case, possibly a few too many lovely beers and takeaways.
The central ethos instilled in us from our respective mums is very similar: be kind, follow your dreams.
This might explain why we’re working somewhere that it’s OK to rock up in shorts and flip flops with sand between our toes.
This issue and the last have been created under a cold, grey cloud of loss. It hurts like hell, and it will for a very long time. It’s inevitable when you lose people that are part of your soul.
All we can do is keep on keeping on. Make more magazines. Ride more waves. Make them proud. Remember to smile. Be kind and follow our dreams.

Sharpy
Editor