The guy who sold it to me said that he had done some repair work to the nose. He added the paint to the deck (probably to cover up some of the work on the nose), but mentioned that that was common for boards from this era. He offered the following advice about the leash-hole in the tail:
"Someone drilled that leash hole. Not me. I don't use a leash -- with two exceptions. 1. when there are rocks that will break your board. 2. when you know there's a shark in the water."
Bing Copeland, added some info about the board's history:
"Your board #2699 was ordered by a local Hermosa surfer named Steve Lupo on August 3, 1963. I’ll send you a birth certificate for your board to your email address.Bing"
Sure, enough, Bing shared a Birth Certificate (pdf) from his log book when the board was born on 8/3/1963. Super cool!
This thing has taken a beating. 2" balsa stringer, neat red lamination job, big d-fin. What's not to love about it? In the water it really screams (once it gets going). It's kind of like riding a torpedo. I rode this board exclusively in all conditions for a little over a year. It really helped my surfing: strength, balance. Maybe even style.









Lots of gaps in the story. Who was Steve Lupo? How did this thing end up in Santa Cruz? I hope to add a few new stories before the stringer rots through.
Oh yeah: Skip Hoard snapped my pic at Linda Mar one day. I ran into this pic on the wall of a cafe after a morning session.
I sent a message from my phone this morning. Even though the surf was lame. The message was published all over the place (microsyndication). Here's how it worked:
Guess what? Most of these nodes along the way have their own RSS feeds for others (services or people) to slurp & read.
Thinking about this plinko-esque publishing flow is a little dizzying. I've been working on web site flows for a few weeks now. It's often helpful to map out a flow to see what's really going on. Graphviz is an open source tool for producing network diagrams and flow charts that I've been using for mapping high-level flows. Here's what a map looks like for the publishing flow I described earlier:
digraph TwitterSurf {
size="6,6";
ratio = fill;
node [style="rounded,filled,bold" shape="box" fillcolor="skyblue"];
/* Set up specific shapes */
Phone [style="rounded,filled" shape="oval" fillcolor="grey"];
"RSS Aggregators" [style="rounded" shape="box3d"];
/* relationships */
Phone -> "twitpic.com" [label="Email with attachment"];
"twitpic.com" -> "twitter.com" [label="twitter api"];
"twitter.com" -> "facebook.com" [label="facebook/twitter bridge"];
"twitter.com" -> "stokereport.com" [label="if post contains 'SMLM'" style="dotted"] ;
"twitpic.com" -> "greacen.com" [label="widget/embed" color="red"] ;
"twitter.com" -> "RSS Aggregators" [label="rss feed" color="darkorange"] ;
"facebook.com" -> "RSS Aggregators" [label="rss feed" color="darkorange"] ;
"stokereport.com" -> "RSS Aggregators" [label="rss feed" color="darkorange"] ;
}
If you ignore the []s, it looks like a terse version of our list up above. Here's the flowchart those instructions produce:
Kinda neat, huh? I find the way this goes from text to sitemap really intriguing. This -> that; that -> next; other -> next; makes sense to me. Graphviz does a great job of putting this all together in an easy-to-digest graphic.
There are a few rails front ends to graphviz (demo) that might make a web tool for this possible. I could see this becoming a handy planning tool for our organization.
Questions:
Thanks for reading.
First there's the magic of place... Of course, the secret spots up and down the coast come to mind. Places with shark lore, epic waves, tragedies. There are smaller miracles too. For example: I bought most of my surfboards through Craigslist. Every place I've met someone to buy a board has become a magic spot for me.
I highly recommend you try meeting someone on your commute route next time you buy a surfboard. I bought my last board from a guy I arranged to meet at the BART station parking lot near my house. Now every time I come home, the magic reminds me that there might be waves tomorrow morning.
Then there's the magic of time, which seems extremely elastic when riding a wave. Everything slows down. Why? Because my heart and CNS is on overdrive? Or so I can enjoy the ride? Who knows? Also, photographers talk about a magic hour or golden hour when the sun is just right. Surfers know that the early AM hours are often best for waves because wind tends to stop.
Magic things... magic surfboards. I'm lucky enough to have one. It catches waves in all conditions. Board shapers love to discuss the magicness they've encountered over the years.
It's all true. Every last bit.