Showing posts with label log. Show all posts
Showing posts with label log. Show all posts

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Flash Larkin

wherever your travels lead
Remember - keep left

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Drop Ins Welcome

Sometimes a drop in is welcome - like when you are out on a small day on a log with a few mates and you have a 1964 Nikonos II and a roll of 35mm...

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Retro Bowl

January 1978 - a couple of Aussie teenagers lean over the railing at Huntington Beach Pier. One of them is shooting the surfing action with a Fufica ST801 manual focus 35mm camera, a roll of Kodachrome 64 film inside and a Hanimex 28mm wide angle lens on the outside. Three decades later one of the exposures finds its way into a coffee table book called Switchfoot II. This is it.
This post is for Mike Moir - one of the best shooters from the analogue era. Your legendary images of the OC continue to inspire.

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Dare to be Different

I love this shot. Older chap with moustache riding a long board with a check stripe and a skin coloured full length wetsuit, at sub-tropical Noosa National Park. All the boxes for "Wrong!" are ticked. But who cares? He's obviously got the stoke happening. (And he avoids water born photogs).
Maybe he was doing it for a dare.
Or he lost a bet.
We were out checking some artworks yesterday arvo when we spied two young chaps wearing what even I thought was pretty strange and daring outfits - a nun-like "man" dress with heelless strappy shoes and the other in knee high gold lame girly boots. The Bride of Brine saw these two odd souls in a completely different light, "Oh look at those gorgeous gucci boots and that Jean Paul Gaultier man dress!" I thought that they had lost a bet or were doing it for a dare. Nope. They were members of Lady Gaga's support band The Semi Precious Weapons having a quiet stroll through the semi-precious artways of Brinetopia. And I had missed a paparazzo opportunity. Perceptions. Pre-conceptions. Odd.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Album

n.
1. A book with blank pages for the insertion and preservation of collections, as of stamps or photographs.
2.
a. A phonograph record, especially a long-playing record stored in a slipcase.
b. A set of musical recordings stored together in jackets under one binding.
c. The bound set of jackets for such a set.
d. A recording of different musical pieces.
3. A printed collection of musical compositions, pictures, or literary selections.
4. A tall, handsomely printed book, popular especially in the 19th century, often having profuse illustrations and short, sentimental texts.





Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Couldn't Stand the Weather (bleak is back)

Imagine you are John Lee Hooker in 1991. You are 74 years old and have lived through World War One, WW2, Korean War, Vietnam War, the Cuban Missile Crisis, and any number of high profile assassinations like Martin Luther King's. You're black and from Mississippi in The South. You know a thing or two about the sadnesses of life commonly called The Blues.
Imagine you record an album of da Blues at 74 with the likes of Carlos Santana, Keith Richards, Johnny Winter, Ry Cooder, Robert Cray, John Hammond Jnr,Van Morrison and Booker T Jones. So what are you going to call that sonic gem? Mr Lucky of course. And who do you dedicate your album to? 
Stevie Ray Vaughan, the late great white Texas legend of the electric six-string who died at age 35 in the year before. SRV's cover of the late great Jimi Hendrix's Voodoo Chile (Slight Return) from his 1984 album, Couldn't Stand the Weather is playing as I try to land some type on this ancient CRT computer screen - 8 minutes of joy even on this bleak, soggy, wind driven midweek morning. 
           
When I consider the lyrics of Voodoo Chile's first verse in light of the recent devastation in Chile, I too feel like Mr Lucky.
"Well, I stand next to a mountain
And I chop it down with the edge of my hand.
Well, I stand next to a mountain
And I chop it down with the edge of my hand.
Well, I pick up all the pieces and make an island,
might even raise  just a little sand.
Cause I'm a voodoo chile,
Lord knows I'm a voodoo chile, baby."
Jimi Hendrix Voodoo Chile (Slight Return) 1968

Friday, February 26, 2010

Epic Fail (like herding cats)

Two aborted surf missions lately. Number one - mate's car broke down about 5 minutes after we left the Brinecave ion a mission for multi-point perfection.
Number two - a different crew. We were supposed to hit the spot above, which is several hours and quite a few tunes on the 8 Track cassette deck  away. But it would have been easier to herd cats into a barrel. I developed dodgy teeth, got two fillings and a jaw that was still sore a week later. Mate had to stay home to look after kids. Other mate had tradespeople lined up to do renovation job.
But when the planets line up and the cats get herded, we'll be having a ball. It's like Greenough said in an interview - surfing with friends in scrappy waves is better than surfing alone on good waves. Have a great weekend.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Rusty x Pajero

Mitsubishi Pajero 4x4 - Noosa Festival 2008
Rusty Miller - First Point Noosa Festival 2009

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Corker x Woosley

Big shout to Corker, the first kid in our neighbourhood to ride a long board, to go to Noosa, to run away from home (year 7!), to hitchhike to Perth. In the words of Neil Young, "Long may you run". At one stage Corker used to drive around in a big V8 Ford nicknamed "Big Henry". Also known to drive unregistered ride on mowers massive distances on country back roads to get to the pub!
Corker's last board, now ridden by another, a beautiful Matt Kean remake of a Ray Woosley shape - 9'6" heavy volan glass, monster hatchet fin glassed in. Happy Birthday, champ.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

26 January = Australia Day

I can vividly remember the day my dad, Hughie passed away. I had put some new fins on a board and surfed some nice glassy waves out the front of where he lived. It was stinking hot with no wind. It was Australia Day. So, to honour him and the early part of his life he spent as a sailor defending my freedom, I thought that I would start today's blog with one of his old Kodachromes, taken from a boat.
It's the Sydney Opera House at Bennelong Point taken on his old german camera in winter 1967. It's an Australian icon - beautiful sails set against a beautiful harbour, known around the world. The guy who designed it, Jorn Utzon was not an Australian. He was from Denmark. Kinda ironic - we've got an iconic national symbol designed by a Dane for the purpose of Italian song (opera), situated on a spot named after a local Aboriginal leader who went to England in 1793 to meet the King of England. The old shot reflects the multicultural undercurrent of Australian society.

After 1967 everything changed. Aboriginal people like Bennelong finally got the right to vote, and some of the lands they had lived on before white settlement. Women got equal wages to men and were allowed to drink in public bars. The "White Australia" immigration policy ended. The moon was visited thanks in small part to our radio telescope dish at Parkes. Surfboards got shorter (then longer) and went from one fin to two, three, four and then to none and back to one. Australian cinema resurrected itself with movies like Mad Max, Picnic At Hanging Rock, The Chant of Jimmy Blacksmith, The Cars That Ate Paris, The Last Wave, Gallipoli. Aussie bands like the Easybeats, the Masters Apprentices, Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs, The Saints, The Angels, The Church, The Triffids, The Go-Betweens, Midnight Oil and good old AC/DC would let the world know that we know how to rock n party.

So today we remember the folks like my dad that made this such a great place and reflect on what we all can do to improve it.  You can believe whatever you like, ride whatever you like, worship whomever you like. And that's what I like about Australia.  It doesn't have a single culture. I believe it's a great place BECAUSE it's so multi-cultural. Whether it's American surfers like George Greenough or Rusty Miller up Byron way or Danish architects or Italian builders or Indian food chefs - it's all Australian now. It's all part of the big cultural melting pot of influences we live amongst.

The Aussie flag has the Southern Cross constellation on it. And a lot of Aussies claim it proudly and tattoo it to themselves. There's a great yarn of a local trawlerman whose boat sank in big seas off Moreton  Island and found his way to land using the  Southern Cross and the Two Pointers constellation to show him south. But the Southern Cross is not OUR exclusive constellation. The Ancient Greeks wrote about it. The Italian cartographer Amerigo Vespucci mapped it on a voyage to South America in 1501. Arab sailors had their own names for it. In Maori culture it is the anchor. In Tonga a duck.

And here in the Great South Land the Aborigines had various descriptions for it including a possum sitting in a tree and an old fella with lights for his hands and feet stretched across the sky, so that he could watch forever over the tribes he loved. And the tribes could look up to him from the earth and see the stars which were his eyes gazing down on them.

My dream for Autralia is for a cleaner, greener, more peaceful and respectful country where there is a fair go for all, and where we harness synergy - the idea that the whole is more than the sum of it's parts. As it's our diversity that enriches our country.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Monday, December 14, 2009

Log Jam


Mark Lloyd hauling log through the summertime crowds at one of the few protected spots while the pesky northerlies blow blue bottles and bad ripples.
Summer 2009

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Monday, October 26, 2009

Variations on the Theme





Same spot. Same day.
You slide across a few and cut back with a mate.
Have a rest on the sand in the crisp autumn sun while a south-westerlie blows offshore.
Warm up over a hot coffee. Swap a few yarns.
Then head out again for a few more.
Autumn 2009

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Ou est la plage?


"Where is the beach?" and g'day are about my limits when it comes to speaking French. This board belongs to one of the French crew visiting this part of the globe. The owner's English is about as good as my French. Surfing and stoke, however are universal.
Summer 2009

Spring 2009

Friday, October 2, 2009

Undecided


Most of us inhabit the alternative surfing universe
Un-sponsored, un-Famous, random amateurs
maintaining the stoke as long as we can.

Amidst the crazy daDa circus
on a crowded sunday session at Jonno's,
an occasional zen moment appears as
 light and water and timing and technology cooperate
making the session memorable.

Look and see.
The answers are small.
Summer 2009

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

G f G


G f G on the old white Joe Larkin board as seen by a little manual telephoto on an analogue camera.
25 years later the view shorewards is basically the same.
We're still sharing a wave and a laugh and the drop ins are about even.
Thanks bro.


Autumn 1983 + Autumn 2008