Here's a great project trying to record one of so many stories that could so easily be lost.
I was looking through the pictures wondering who, after a few years surfing the area, I recognised. Who I knew or had seen in the surf.
I'm sure everyone has a 'Steve' story...
When I first started loitering in North Devon around '04 I ended up sharing the water with Steve at Saunton a few times. Since then I've been in the lineup with him at The Point and Croyde a few times, maybe even Putsborough. I'm sure he doesn't remember me. In fact I know he doesn't.
The reason I know this is because, from day one he's always waved at me; enthusiastically welcoming me into the sea. Then proceeded to paddle over to say hello, only to realise he's mistaken me for someone else. I guess he doesn't surf with his contacts in as this happens every time we surf together, without fail. Every time I think he may actually be welcoming me and not the guy he keeps mistaking me for. And pretty much every time, without fail, he's surfing in his shorts.
Back in '04 I was still sporting a typical post learner attitude. I had mastered pop-ing up and was hardly falling off. The drive to improve my surfing was burning hot. I wanted every wave for myself. I understood the 'rules' and stuck to them religiously, but deep down I resented anyone catching waves further up the line than me or who caught more waves than me. In my mind I was no longer a kook. In reality I was probably more of one than I ever was.
On one of those 'mistaken identity' meetings, Steve emerged from the rip at Saunton waving and hollering at 'me' in the manner I was getting used to. He paddled over to say hi to the person he thought I was and we ended up chatted for a bit. Probably out of politeness. Probably about his crazy homemade boards.
While we were chatting a set approached. He was sitting inside of me but was calling me onto the wave to share it. Still being a kook, if not in my head, I was surfing my fashionable shortboard and massively under gunned for the slow, weak waves of Saunton. But I put my head down and paddled as hard as I could so not to waste this generosity. Steve, on his homemade longboard had caught the wave much earlier and was already up and riding, and still calling me onto the wave. I obliged and dropped in in front of him, had a quick look over my shoulder to see him coming up fast behind me. "Yeah! Go! Put your foot down" He hollered behind me. I knew I needed to go faster to give him and his huge board space to surf, but I just couldn't. I was still a shit surfer despite what my ego was telling me. I pulled of the back of the wave and watched him slide all the way to the beach. Probably hollering and waving at others as he went.
Soon he was sitting beside me in the line up again and asking me what happened. I told him I just couldn't generate the speed and didn't want to ruin his wave. My ego bruised and disappointed at realising how crap I still was, Steve didn't seem to care about my ineptitude at all.
Another set approached and again he was calling me into the wave when he had every right to call me off it. Buoyed by his apathy to my crapness I duly obliged and paddled hard again. Again I dropped in in front of him and again I found it hard to generate speed to give him space to surf. This time I didn't pull over the shoulder and off the wave.
Next thing Steve had parked his log just behind me on the wave and was hollering at me to "jump on". At first what he was saying didn't make sense. The words he were using were alien to surfing as I knew it. I hadn't considered that people could have a different approach to wave riding other than the selfish greed filled one which I was perpetrating. I didn't have time to comprehend, let alone follow Steve's instructions and I fell over the side of my board. Despite Steve's best efforts to pick me up and place me on his board himself. I wiped out and got rolled by the wave.
I think I came up for air from that wipeout with a new outlook on surfing - I could be crap, no one really cared and you could have as much fun sharing waves, if not more.
I think I came up for air from that wipeout with a new outlook on surfing - I could be crap, no one really cared and you could have as much fun sharing waves, if not more.
