Right where the glasser managed to put a laminate upside-down, and install the glass-on bonzers in the wrong place, a hole where one of the fins was smashed out. Sweet.
Not that long ago I wrote about how much difficulty I had shaping and glassing my bonzer: Shaping in Kauai and the Birth of the Hydro-Matic® . Since that was written, I had let other people ride it. On a few more occasions I gave it a go to see if I could really get a feel for it. In the end the board seemed to be cursed. So much energy, time and money went into it. It was to say the least a heart breaker.
It only really functions in a certain size and type of wave, namely 3-5′ Hawaiian scale, hollow and down-the-line. Not a great beachbreak board. Not for hot-dogging. It goes very straight and fast and stable in the tube. That is pretty much it. Kind of a superfluous board to say the least.
I found myself surfing that very type of wave recently. Maybe a touch bigger, but my step-up was recently broken, so this was the best call. After battling the current running off the point for two hours and only catching one good wave, I was over it. I was alone and there was great waves coming through, but the energy required to get to and stay on the peak was crushing me. I decided I would give it my best effort to get onto the corner of the reef and go on the next set wave. Period.
When a set appeared I put my head down and sprinted into position knowing I was going regardless. There was a terrible rip coming off the end of the reef causing quite a bit of chop right at the peak, plus it was chucking out pretty hard. I spun around, gave it some paddles and pushed into the wave. It was a sweet one, lined up all the way across and nice and steep. I lost sight of what was happening for a nanosecond when the offshore spray hit my eyes. I stayed low grabbing pig-dog and began driving down the face.
All felt right in the world. After two hours getting bupkis, I finally was pulling into a solid one. I was even feeling I was far enough back to get shacked right at the takeoff. Then I hit a big chunk coming up the face. It knocked the board out from under me. The leash came off like I forgot to attach it. My front arm, which was behind me in a traditional pig-dog, got wrenched back hyper-extending my elbow and I went down hard. I went back overt the falls and came up in the impact zone right next to the corner where I took off and took three more on the head, each one causes lightning bolts of pain in my elbow.
Seems so apropriate that the logo get smashed. By a tank though?
When I surfaced I noticed I was moving in the current down the beach and out to sea like I had been on my board. Now I had to swim in against the current with one arm. I got three-quarters of the way in and began getting sucked out again. Eventually someone else paddled out and on his way past he mentioned that my board probably went down the beach in the current. I was thinking the same thing. I would get in and then have to locate my board and swim out to it and paddle it back in. Not cool.
When I stood up on the beach a guy up on beach by the reef was holding my board. Weird. It seems to have gone against the current. Maybe it just rode the white water straight in? As I approached the guy said, “Sorry. I didn’t see it until too late.” The board looked like someone attacked it with an axe.
The board that cost so much money to glass, took so much time in research and emotional energy was mangled. It seems it found the one solid obstacle in the entire 10 mile long beach, a tank tread that sticks out of the water at low tide. The leash wrapped around it and the board volleyed onto the tank over and over.
You can’t make this shit up.