Surfing Move: 180 Hawaiian Pull Out into a No Paddle Take Off - possibly the hardest surfing combination ever

Aloha Tribe,

Well, since I just talked about the 180 Hawaiian Pull Out, also sometimes called an Island Pull Out, it only makes sense to tie it in with the next move, the No Paddle Take Off, and, with perfect timing, which is the whole point of linking the two moves together, timing the moves right so that one naturally leads directly into the next move.

This sequence is about as tricky as it gets in surfing because there are a number of variables. Obviously, you'll have to have the waves, especially the subsequent wave for the No Paddle Take Off, all to yourself, or, be in agreement with everybody to share a Party Wave, otherwise, well, you could really get in someone's way, and, nobody wants to do that. Now, here in the Wilds, where I surf, there literally is nobody in the water, especially in the Winter, and even more so, when the waves are Double Overhead or higher.

So, the key to this move, is, picking your time and place to try it. And, let me tell you, once you learn to do it, you'll just have to quest for it again and again and again.

Essentially, here's how it goes. You do the standard Hawaiian Pull Out, modify it into my 180 Hawaiian Pull Out, then, as you ride over the shoulder, facing the shore, you  keep your board pointing towards the beach and simply allow the following wave to life you up its face in exactly the right place, that, when you reach the peak, instead of dropping out the backside since you are NOT paddling, you instead are so perfectly positioned that you drop down the face on this new wave, without once having paddled.

This is a tough series of moves to perfect, and, it takes, as I said, the perfect breaks, with the right amount or types of brahs around, and perfect timing. But, then again, if surfing isn't about striving for Stoke, then, what's the point!!! Get this move down and you WILL be stoked beyond stoked.

As a prelude to this series of moves, practice both elements individually to truly master them. Once you have the fundamentals wired, then, make them art, and, following that, link them in this beautiful harmonious expression of dancing with the sea.

Bodaciously Stoked,

Lily of the Valley

Surf Move: 180 Hawaiian Pull Out

Aloha Tribe,

I love Pull Outs so much better than Kick Outs. Now sure, for most of us, we don't even think about  this part of the ride, let alone that there is a difference between these two styles of exiting your wave while surfing. Yet, to me, this part is just as important, and, just as fun, as the whole ride on any given wave.

To me, a Pull Out is a gentle curving up and over the Shoulder of the wave, whereas, I see a Kick Out as a frantic, frenetic slashing, tight cutting angular kind of exit.

That being said, the version of the Hawaiian Pull Out that so calls to my soul, involves, not only sitting as you exit the wave, but, doing it on a spinnng  board so that you end up actually facing the beach and drift backwards over the top of the wave Shoulder.

I am drawn to this style of Pull Out for several reasons.  First of all, I find it truly beautiful, graceful, soft, flowing, filled with Aloha,  and, oh so very  fun. And, secondly, it simply fits the way I see surfing, that is to say, it fits my riding style as a Classic Old School Longboard Girl as well, interestingly enough, as the way I live my life as a surfer and a member of the Tribe.

Style. That's it in a word. Surfing, to me, is about how it feels, and, the more you can embrace that beautiful sense of feeling, of sensing all that happens to you, the more you can fully enjoy your surfing.

Now, the way I learned this move, was, the way I learned most moves, simply by accident. In other words, it just sort of happened. You see, I had been spending a lot of time working on Spinning my board while sitting in the Line Up. Sure, the normal way of doing it is to propel your feet around, even if it's only a bit provided one sits way back on their board, but, what I had been working on was using my hips, instead of my legs and feet. I liked the feeling of simply using pressure between my legs as I squeezed the boards, and, then weighting either hip in order to dip the nose at an angle beneath the surface, which, when down with simultaneously lifting your tail, you, which requires you to use a combination of the inner thigh muscles on the front of your legs, as well as the inner thigh muscles on the back of your legs at the same time and in harmony with each other. This pressure of using the inner thigh muscles and your hips allows you to dip the nose of your board in either direction, which, as soon as it drops beneath the water, it begins slicing dowwards, thus, turning you in that direction. With control, one can then feel or sense the proper time to lift the nose into the opposite angle so that the nose now angles up propelling it towards the waters surface. In this way, the board can be made to spin, with no sitting back on the board, and, without propelling your legs and feet.

Sure, that was simply an exercise, and,  a stylistic experiement that for most would seem useless, but, I must say, it's loads of fun to do, and, as it turns out, it has tremendous value in various types of surfing moves such as this particular 180 Hawaiian Pull Out as well as for some super stylistic Paddle Out Reentrys. Oh, and, naturally, by the way, you have to keep your arms and hands off the board, or it would become no only way too easy to weight the board with your hands and arms, thus, so totally ruining all sense of style and more importantly, the point of the exercise, but also, by not using your hands, arms, or legs, you gain greater balance, more beauty in your moves, and, a so much greater sense of body awareness in all movement forms no matter whether you're on a wave or in the sand.

In any event, as I mentioned, that is the exercise that I had come up with and was practicing until I got it wired pretty tight. It was such fun to do.

Which brings us to the part of the story of how the move was an accident. There I was, about to exit a totally awesome wave by calmly sliding up toward the Shoulder of the wave when, just as I approached the peak, about to slide over, the wave jacked just enough to start to spin me exactly as I happened to be focusing on steering with the Nose. This, of course, spun my clockwise on a Right, as my nose dug beneath the water lifting my tail just enough to glide across the water's surface, drawing a ringlet trail with my Skeg  tracing her arcing path like a finger in a still pool. The wave itself carried me to a full 180 as I was sitting on the Deck, and I drifted backwards up and over the Shoulder, riding backwards, facing, the beach.

As with all moves I've tried, having done it once, even if but by accident, I could now, for whatever reason, replicate it again at will. At which point, naturally, I begin experimenting and honing my performance, often, coming up with even new variations on a just new variation. For example, after one can do the 180 Hawaiian Pull Out, then you can practice doing it smoother, with greater softness, flow, beauty, and of course Aloha Spirit, and this, naturally, leads to a rather casual appearing almost easy looking exit from a wave. It's a great way to end a ride, and, frankly, every Pro out there out to try it if riding smooth is their style. Naturally, the next move that this leads into in your surfing repetoire is the 180 Hawaiian Pull Out No Paddle Reentry. This, as I've mentioned in another post, requires perfect wave placement and total understanding of how the swells work, particularly at your break. To do this, of course, requires deep study of the waves of the moment, their period, their direction, cross-currents, wind, and the overall timing of your ride that lead up to the 180 Spinning Hawaiian Pull Out, so that, as you slide over the back of the wave you just rode, you are in perfect placement for this next phase.

Given the type of knowledge I received from working my board the way I described above led me to developing my version of the Hawaian Pull Out, which I just shared, as well as ultimately, to the second most difficult surfing move of all time: Spinning Pearl Outs which then lead to the rarest move in all of surfing, the Submarine Move. Now that's a MOVE!!!

Bodaciously Stoked,

Lily of the Valley

First Time

Aloha Tribe,

I remember my first time. The first wave I rode, without, having any prior knowledge of the wave or break, in fact, I hadn't even seen it before. How could that be, you ask? Great question, and, a fun story.

It happened at Hanalei Bay last Spring on the north shore of Kauai. I had been out surfing with 8 other girls, when the coolest older guy paddled out towards me. His tactic for meeting me was unique, intersting, and, rather different. At first, he'd paddle near me, when there was a whole ocean to surf in, and he simply sit there, within half a dozen feet, simply watching me. So, I'd paddle further away from my girlsfriends, down the coast a score or more meters, only to find, him paddling along behind and next to me. I'd stop, set my board, turn to look over my shoulder for the coming swell, and, when I'd turn to face shore again, there he'd be, right next to me. Hmm, I thought, as I'd immediately lay on my board and paddel even further down the coast, further away from my girlfriends, only to find the same thing happen again, and, again. Finally, just as I was about to catch a most bodacious wave, I started to get set, and, there he was, parked, sitting his board, right directly in my path. Aargh!!! At this point, he lay down on his board, paddled out next to me and past me, saying, "come along, follow me, keep up." What an interesting introduction, I thought, as I  simply started paddling after him, wondering where he was leading me.  We stroked away from shore and into the blue. Out and out we went, then, we slowly began curving to our left at an angle away from the far distant shore. I had never been out this deep before and I tried to not think of big fish.  After about 1 1/2 to 2 miles of paddling, we started approaching what appeared to be a break. I only saw it just as we got to it,  as I looke UP, the face of the approaching wave. He told me that "this wave will be bigger than anything you've ridden so far," he new this, based on our talking while we paddled.

In those brief seconds as my board began lifting up the face of the wave, he told me that he wanted me to follow him straight up the face. So, I did. He took of stroking hard, saying "keep up," and I matched him which surprised me. Then, the wave, a loomed higher even as we climbed it, him saying...

"1. treat the wave just like any other wave you've ever surfed.

2. don't look down.

3. when you get to the top of the wave, spin your board 180 degrees, and simply let the board drop.

All that instruction came in a few milli-seconds, mind you.

With very little choice at this point, I stroked hard,matching his speed and power, then, once at the top, a distance much much more than my longboard was long, I spun my board with surprising speed and smoothness, shocking me it went so well even as I did it, and, dropped. Almost straight down. Following his advice, I did not look down and instead, simply and Popped Up, into a low crouch, my arms wide for a brief second  in my Classic style, about to lower to my sides as I began standing higher.

Having never even seen the wave before, since we had paddled perhaps nearly about 2 miles down the beach and out to get to it, I had no idea how the wave would break, so, I simply did as I was told. I treated the wave like I always did, just as my spontaneous mentor coached me to do.

I raced down the vertical face, then, upon hitting the flats, I turned into a smooth though lightning fast bottom turn, angling my board at a  dramatic angle, my outside rail rising to dance with the sky surprising me to see and feel all this happening in instantaneous slow motion.

I rode my ride out, just feeling the wave as I went, ziggzagging to play with my rails a bit and then I pulled out in a modified Hawaiian Pull Out.

And, from the top of the wave, I heard my new and spontaneous teacher shouting, "do it again,"as he sat his board directly above me on a watery mountain.

Spinning my board as I switched from seated to laying,

Paddling up the face, I spun my board again, only, this time, the wave was steeper, and, I pearled at the bottom of the face, and as my nose dipped. For a fraction of a second, I sensed doom, and I could hear my coach shouting, "don't pearl,"  as weighted my nose,  lifted my tail,  spun my board on my nose, 180 degrees, unweighting my nose and breaking it free of the pearl, and finishing the ride in a spinning whirling, 360 as the wave rode over me in a controlled pull out.

The break was Middles. The height was well well over Double Overhead. And it was my first time riding a break I had not only never seen, but never read about nor ever knew anything about it.

In a way, it was my virgin ride into the unknown. A style of riding that few probably experience. After all, normally, especially in  known reef breaks like at the North Shore, for example, we read about a break, study it, then chose to go there. Or, we at the very least, stand on the shore a minute or two and study it before paddling out.

But this time, in this wild untamed, virgin ride, I got to feel something new. And, I've kept my passion for this type of wave. Riding the unknown, unseen wave.  For me, it feels more intense this way, more feral, more rugged, more wild.  And, I've found that I like that. A lot. In fact, oddly enough, no matter the power, or size of most reef breaks, I find them, tame, or harnessed, in comparison, in that they are, for the most part, predictable. This new style of riding, for me, offers me ways to explore my surfing spontaneous creativity and in-the-moment adaptability to whatever happens. Which, after all, is what surfing, at it's core, is really all about, and, what most of us love about it to begin with.

Bodaciously Stoked,

Lily of the Valley

The Quest

Aloha Tribe,

For the next 11 days, begining tonight  in about 3 hours, but starting tomorrow, I'm on a quest of simply surfing with my old-school longboard. I do this type of exploration every year at this time, my Birthday. Surfing. Fasting. Watching and listening to the sea all night. Nothing more.

One girl. One classic board. One backpack. My bright orange VW Bug. And, the sea.

Where I'll begin? Here. Where I'll end? I never know until I"m there. The swells call,  dancing their chaos at Double Overhead, offering wild, untamed waves of unpredictable direction and unharnessed power.

Bodaciously Stoked,

Lily of the Valley

An Interesting Russian Chess Book for Surfing - Notes of a Soviet Master

Aloha Tribe,

Tonight, a cold, rainy Friday night, I am studying a rare Russian chess book by A. Ilyin-Genevsky. He was a Soviet Master from in the early 1900's and is known as the father of Soviet chess. This book focuses on his route to becoming a Master chess player and begins when he was introduced to the game at the age of 10.

The book offers 50 of his greatest chess games, and, these reveal his playing style which is both cheerful and optimistic, perfect actually, for a longboarder. Especially an old-school, Classic Stylist longboarder.

So, what is this saying? Well, one can take two seemingly unrelated things, such as chess and surfing, and, find a link between them, not only historically, as I mentioned in my previous post about chess at Sunset Beach on the North Shore, but also, in playing and surfing style, and thus, in the way one lives ones life.

There is a game in the book which warrants extreme study, namely, Capablanca vs. Ilyin-Genevsky from the Moscow International Tournament of 1925. Not, unlike watching a surf movie of one of our surfing legends such as Gerry Lopez, for example. In both cases,  you go to the Masters and study their style to absorb it into your own sense of style. And, since both Ilyin-Genevsky and Lopez both exemplify a laid back optimistic, mellow, style, to me, they are similar.

Tonight, on this dark, cold, rainy night, with the fire softly tickling her flames in my woodburning stove, I have out my magnetic travel chess set, the one that went to the North Pole, and, I'm playing through the game I just mentioned, and perhaps a few of the other 50 from the book, as I sip on some dark red wine, in the glow of the fire light illuminating my wooden chess board and wooden pieces.

Interestingly enough, the more I think of Russian chess, the more I think of my own Siberian/Mongolian heritage and links to Siberia, and, that makes me think of surfing in Siberia. A quest of mine. To play chess there, to slackline and tightrope there, and, of course, to surf there.  Hmm, it makes me contemplate a white slackline. I think I must get one.

Bodaciously Stoked,

Lily of the Valley

Chess and Surfing: Going Back to 1953

Aloha Tribe,

I was reading in Matt Warshaw's book, The History of Surfing, that chess goes back on the North Shore, specifically at Sunset Beach, to 1953. The brahs then would surf all day, and play chess at night. So, I figured, why not. Since DD has me learning the North Shore breaks, I thought I'd get deep into chess, since, it's a new year.

So, I have two books on the chess legend Bobby Fischer. One is Russians versus Fischer by Dmitry Plisetsky and Sergey Yorankov, and, the other is Bobby Fischer: The Career and Complete Games of the American World Chess Champion by Karten Muller.

My plan, is to memorize, if I can, up to two games a day, mostly done at night, from the Muller book, and, study the references from the Plisetsky/Yorankov book. Combined, it should give me a great feel for Bobby's games and style. I truly love the book Russians vs. Fischer. It's incredible to read the insights from this truly deep and intense book, and, I see it as a great gift to the chess community, and thus, from my way of looking at it, to our surfing Tribe too.

If I memorize up to two games per day, in less than a year, I'll have covered all but two or three of the games. The idea, of course, will be to do my best to literally memorize them in long term memory, and thus, each day, to memorize one or  two more without forgetting the previous games. Can it be done? By some, of course, in fact, by many chess lovers I'd imagine, but, by me, well... who knows. Then again, why not try.

After all, to me, I see chess in surfing, and, surfing  in chess. The two, interwine for me and dance in a harmonious spiraling of art in a double helix kind of way, though, that's perhaps not quite the fully accurate analogy, for it's a combination of that and also sort of like the reflection in a window at night, overlooking a brightly lit room. Those two images, combined, give a living sense of what I feel when I do either art while simulanously seeing th other. Multitasking, I guess some might call it.

In any event, it sounds fun, and, if surfing, or, chess for that matter, is not fun, then, what's the point?

Now, I suppose memorizing one game a day would be more realistic, and, I don't know if I can do this, but, I wanted to at least try. For, to me, I see it as a marvelous way to improve my surfing. How, you might ask? Well, good question. By developing an analytical mind honed to a razor's edge, yet, capable of intuitive creativity. This, of course, is expressed in the way I surf. By analyzing a chess board for possibilities, I'll be teaching myself to analyze waves, where they'll break, how, and when, and with what power, more so, the predictive skills honed by chess will teach me to see patterns in the waves of what is going to happen.

And, if none of this comes to pass, so. What else does one do on dark nights, when alone on the North Shore? Well, okay, sure, there's lots, but, my surfing comes from where I surf with my home break, in the Wilds, where, I surf alone, for, nobody is there. And, thus, to spend nights in meditative contemplation in a sort of monastic lifestyle almost, seems intellectually to fit my surfing style of the daylight hours.

Interestingly enough, both internal arts, of the body and mind, then, also lead to an internalization of the soul or spirit too, creating a calmness, a mellow way of living life, which, is what the hippy girl lifestyle I live is all about anyways.

I surf alone, not through choice, but through fate. And, I surf for me. Likewise, I live in the country, in the middle of a deep forest with few about, thus, I play chess alone too, also, by fate. And as with surfing, I play chess, for me, not for others, fame, or glory, just, simply, because I love the game. Interestingly enough, my sense of spirituality, that being Shamanism and expressed as Chi Gung, is also a solitary act, followed, since I've been a young girl of 5. Few in the world follow such a path for the path of the Shaman, by its very nature, is solitary.

My hope with this perhaps unusual New Years kind of focus,  is to honor the surfers of yesteryear, who braved Sunset Beach for the first time. Surfing. Fishing. Eating simple meals. And, playing chess.

One girl, one ultralight backpack containing daily needs plus one hammock tent and one chessboard (a travel set that's gone to the North Pole), and slung over my shoulder in a carry bag, one longboard surfboard, on a quest to surf the world and play chess in some of the most famous spots of both sports.

Now, to make it more fun, with the three languages I'm still working on, namely, Hawaiian, Hawaiian Pidgin, and, Surfish (Surfer's Language), it'll be fun for me to think, verbally, in each of these languages, as I learn to express myself on the chess board, and, on the waves.

It's a spiritual quest, I'm on, that of the Vagabond, Feral Surfer, alone, and, okay with that. Searching the world for the perfect game of chess, and, the perfect ride. Both, of which, happen, at least for me, internally.

Which, is what Chi Gung, is all about, especially at the Nei Dan level. So, by bringing Nei Dan Chi Gung to my longboard and my chess board, I hope to express in new ways my love of surfing and the quest we all are on as surfers, to find out how we fit into the sea.

Bodaciously Stoked,

Lily of the Valley

Surviving on a Desert Island as a Surfer

Aloha Tribe,

So, I've been sitting here with my friend, and, we've been discussing what to do if we got stranded on a tropcial island, the stereotypic desert island.

1. Build a surfboard.

Here's why. You're a surfer. And, on being stranded on some lost uncharted desert island, you'll probably die anyways before you're found, so, step one above seems the most logical step.

2. Search for the perfect break, even if it means walking the entire perimeter of the island, after all, what the hell else are you going to do since you have all the time in the world.

3. Surf.

4. Collect some water between surf sessions.

5. Surf more.

6. Maybe catch a fish or shellfish or something to eat. You won't probably have any means of making fire, since, you probably got here by accident, so, unless you're a Chi Gung master who knows how to use chi to make fire, just eat your fish sushi style, namely, raw and wiggling.

7. Work on your tan. You want to look good if you get rescued.

8. Get all the islands breaks wired. That way, when you open a surf tour to your island later, you'll be the master vagabond feral surfer of the entire island.

Bodaciously Stoked,

Lily of the Valley