Secondhand Surfer

Surf~photography~journal

Post 400

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAIn 2011, I published my first post. I likened it to tossing a bottle into the ocean. Where would it travel to? Who would receive my message?

My  journal has no focus other than my response to life.

It keeps me afloat.

Sunday Morning Rising

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Boundaries

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Endless Summer

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Cow Talk

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Recovery

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The Whakaari

 

The Whakaari, the sailing vessel of a Kiwi, named Craig, was stranded at the Boca de Rio, Playa Avellanas. It was a great diversion through the month of October, the hardest of the rains here.

All speculated, and had their opinion of details involved. How could this happen? Wasn’t he lucky, being so unlucky. He beached precariously, between reefs.

I was impressed with the Captain’s demeanor. He never showed signs of stress or anger. He always had a smile and friendly words.

I know he had to leave us. He’s just beginning on his, around the world adventure.

He will be missed.

 

Citizen of the Surf

IMG_0803citizen |ˈsitizən, -sən|(abbr.: cit. ) noun
a legally recognized subject or national of a state or commonwealth, either native or naturalized: a British citizen | the rights of every citizen.
• an inhabitant of a particular area

I am a citizen of the surf, as is the girl in the photo above. I have seen her surfing at my home break, Playa Avellanas for the last week. Paddling out, catching waves, I don’t know her, I don’t have to. She’s another surfer, in the water. A sister citizen, of the waves. Read more…

MY Standard of Living


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Caught in the rain and we don’t care.

  • Maintain an “In the Moment” Pace
  • Eat fruits and vegetables
  • Give rides to people who do not have cars
  • Surf
  • Take good great photos
  • Be kind

These are the standards that I live by. These are the “things” most important to me.

R. J. Rio de Janeiro

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAOn the Road – R.J.

Is a specialty company, selling crocheted tops, such as the one, modeled here.

When I go for a walk on the beach, I never know what, or who, I’m going to encounter. Leaving the shipwreck, I met three girls; two models, one a photographer, all three surfers. They are traveling and supporting themselves, via the internet. We have come into an altered world.

We are living in a time of warped speed. She asked me if I had instagram. I replied no, “I’m primitive.” I showed her my dumb phone, that I purchased last week. I never have it when I need it. And it rings, when I’m driving. But I bought it, because it’s suppose to save my life, at some point.

I became mindful of how much goes on, in a place, that looks like time has stood still.

And in writing this, I’m reminded of all the shells that, I know, were walking down the beach, at the time I took this photo.

Speed up, slow down, speed up, slow down.

Who sets the pace?

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