“They all do the same, only their names change honey You can join their club if you’re born in to money.”

Sam Fender, Hypersonic Missiles

It’s a weird world out of the water at the moment. Fortunately when I’m Out Of Office I tend to be either in the water or out of signal and staring at the water. It wasn’t something I was particularly aware of until recently when someone said: “You still here?” It was two foot onshore and I’d been at my spot for four hours. Time just passes. I watch the waves – the way they break, the different wave patterns and fetch. The way the swell hugs sandbanks or travels down the coast. I watch the wonder of kids who see the ocean for the first time. The joy of the groms and learners going straight on foamies in the whitewater. The fishing boats out at sea going about their work following the diving birds. I look for dolphins and clues as to why one tide with little swell can change a whole beach of sand. I wonder how the ancient Polynesians navigated the oceans by the stars, and observations of birds, ocean swells, and wind patterns; all passed down through memories and by word of mouth from generation to generation. I wonder why tiny moments of time spent wave riding, swimming or just absorbing salt-heavy sea breezes can have such an impact on our lives? Why can we all remember our first wave, tube (if you are lucky), sunrise and sunset sessions? Or even that kinda shitty turn in two foot surf that made our day? I think we are all connected to the ocean to various extents. And at the same time our coastal distractions disconnect us from from what goes on ‘inland’. It gives us a sense of release and perspective of what matters. Time and tide wait for no one, but our ancient connections are highly preferable to the politics and economics of 2022. And it reminds us how lucky we are just collecting memories in a mad world.

“All the silver tongued suits and cartoons that rule my world, Are saying it’s a high time for hypersonic missiles.”

That may be, but I’ll mainly be out of signal.

Steve
Editor

Reasons to be cheerful…

Great things things are happening in our surfing community at the moment and we’re reflecting this in our latest issue of Carve. There’s a really good crew of groms around the UK with both talent and stoke. Some travelled long distances from Scotland and Wales to compete in the Rip Curl Grom Search in Newquay this spring. This issue I asked a bunch of them some pretty non-taxing questions, and surprisingly their teenage grunts revealed some eclectic music preferences amongst other things. Ahead them is a really good bunch of British surfers that have made a great start to 22 on the WSL Qualifying Series. Over the start of the year we had reports coming back from European comps that the Brits were shredding. Now they’ve bonded and are supporting and pushing each other. And as any coach will tell you, when that happens performances rise. We have a good feeling about the group and caught up with them for a chat. The most westerly Inner Hebridean island of Tiree is just 12 miles long and 3 miles wide, and it’s home to one of one of Europe’s hardest charging 16 year-olds – Ben Larg. In the winter of 21/22 Ben overcame a serious injury, got himself fit and charged some of the Atlantic’s heaviest waves. His remarkable story is on page 60. North Devon is now a World Surfing Reserve! An amazing story of persistence and hard work has led to the protection of the coast and surf breaks in one of the jewels in the UK’s coastal crown. One of its founders, Ben Hewitt, examines what it means and why it’s important. Also this issue Gabe Davies give us the lowdown from Tynemouth – one of Britain’s most unique surf towns; James Wilkinson caught up with the world’s most renowned shore break photographer Clark Little; we head to the Baltic; Al Mackinnon takes us on a top secret surf trip and much, much more. Of course, it’s been a weird year in so many other ways, but in our surf world it kinda feels like some really good things are happening! 

Steve
Editor

When I was a grom and living in the then ‘Badlands’ of Porthtowan, I did a few surf lessons for Johnny at Tris Surf Shop. As much for fun as for the extra dollar. I remember one day a mum from the Midlands booked in her son who was about eight. As I was going down the beach with him she told me to be careful because he had poor eyesight. I was like: “He’ll be fine!” To which she replied: “No, I mean his eyesight is really impaired.” What I soon found out is that she really meant he was pretty much blind. Being an optimistic type I didn’t really take on the ramification of this much. I was just happy to get the grom in the sea. And as it turned out, he was probably the most natural surfer I ever taught. As soon as I pushed him into his first wave he was up on his feet. Which was a surprise for me, and for the other learner surfers and stray bathers jumping out of the way as he cruised past, happy as Larry. I did a lot of shouting that session. Not just, “go left go right,” when he was riding the wave, but more to let him know where he was when he finished each wave a long way down the beach! Best surf lesson ever – he was amazing! But there wasn’t much support to get physically challenged kids in the ocean back then, and he had to go home to Birmingham the next day. Probably never surfed again. Over the years I always wondered what he could have achieved. Roll on the years and I started to hear of a young, visually impaired surfer charging down at Porthtowan. Luckily her family were open-minded enough to get her support and she thrived in the ocean. So much so, that now Melissa Reid is a three-times World Champion! I’m stoked someone was there to encourage her, and it’s even better that I’m in a position here at Carve to be able to share her story this issue. I guess the two things that make this story relatable is that no matter our abilities or challenges, we are all searching for the same thing – that feel of glide. And the second is that we never know where our first wave will take us.

Pretty cool.
Steve
Editor

Winter
A little while ago you may recall that I wrote our ‘Exit’ about winter’s powerful hold on our coldwater souls. Last issue, in fact. Well, I’ve changed my mind now. Call me fickle, but while we did have one spectacular swell this autumn, the dark nights and northerly wind chop have me yearning for warmer climes. I mean, I did like winter, and indeed gave a speech on how cool coldwater surfing was to a puzzled surfing industry a decade or so ago. But now, every time I go down to the beach there are wild swimmers jumping into rips and trying get coldwater shock. And ice cream headaches. What are they about? Wim Hoff may like them, but it’s not for me. No we, well more ‘I’, should be a surfing nomad chasing endless summers! Well, more winter swells with warm water. I’m thinking Indo. Maldives. Barbados. Sunstroke, dehydration, burned calves, wax rash on your inner thighs. Warm water surfing is in! Squeezing lime into reef cuts… Yeah, too far? Anyway, onto this issue and what a start to winter it has been. We have a full gallery from right around the UK and Ireland, plus young Ben Larg charging Scottish slabs, and we interview the winner of our 2021 photo comp. Travelwise we have a chap who toured the coast of Europe by bicycle, a trip to Baja, and the culmination of a seven-year ocean adventure by yacht in search of uncharted islands. We also get the rundown of Bude from one of its ubiquitous locals, Joss Ash, and catch up with Ben Skinner – who got us all staying up late to watch him place second at the mighty Malibu!
Enjoy!
Steve
Editor

What is surfing to you?
“What is surfing to you?” Good question! Recently, to me, it’s meant long days swearing at a non co-operative horizon, staring at blank swell charts and waiting. I’ve learnt a few new ways to use expletives, seen some dolphins and tuna, watched a lot of sunsets, and may have been driven to drink. Flat spells, hey. Thought they had been consigned to the 1980s, but no. Of course, the real answer to the question should be – a joyous pastime in a natural environment, the doorway to a work/ life balance outside the usual 9-5, sport, community, an avenue for creativity, and a reason to cherish and protect our special playgrounds. So this issue we have bravely ignored the fact it has been flat for weeks and touched on all of the above! After the World Games we asked Britain’s top competitors and federation reps just what support is needed for the UK to once again have a top internationally ranked shortboarder on the WSL tour and in the Olympics. Craig Maclachlan tells us what it’s like to be a grom on the north coast of Scotland, and Levi Freed writes about the liberation of spirit that surfing provides. In travel, two of Ireland’s finest escape to Indo and try to surf every wave within their reach while scoring big time. Al Mackinnon explores Madeira’s huge waves and their even bigger threats from the local government’s bad planning. We also have our annual photo competition with amazing contributions from right around the UK and Ireland. And we have an eassy from Croyde, the jewel of North Devon’s crown, and legends from Skewjack – Britain’s first and most famous/infamous surf camp. So, tales from all coasts of our unique surf community. Which despite occasional flatness is pretty special. Never let anyone tell you any different… Unless it’s flat through September as well, in which case feel free!

Enjoy!

Steve
Editor