A site straight out of a laboratory: two hours’ drive from Los Angeles, in the heart of the Californian desert, lie ‘The Ponds’. Twelve elongated reservoirs collect water that is channelled here from the Colorado River, 400 kilometres away, and is intended to safeguard the groundwater levels of nearby Palm Springs. As it happens, thanks to the thermal winds in the scorching desert, there’s also a bit of a breeze here – to be precise, between 30 and 50 knots (!). This not only powers a forest of wind turbines but has also turned this bizarre place into a mecca for speed surfers. New records are set to be broken at Alpha Speedweek, and surf was there to witness it. However, the extreme conditions call for particular caution: car doors are simply blown open if parked the wrong way round, and headlights and paintwork become blurred in no time at all. Standard trapeze lines are useless as they get blown away; instead, extra-stiff rigs have to be attached to the boom. Before the event even began, as many as 15 steel containers were blown several hundred metres away. Anyone wishing to ride on one of the ponds, which are just under a hundred metres wide, must under no circumstances put any weight on the leeward edge, as the wind will immediately catch the underside of the board and send you flying. During the warm-up, speeds of 54 to 57 km/h – sensational even by the standards of the time – were recorded on standard equipment, although the course was only just under 100 metres long. Just in time for the event, something extraordinary happened: a persistent low-pressure system disrupted the thermals and the wind failed to materialise. As is often the case, it only picked up again after the regatta had finished...
The dream of running one’s own business in the surfing industry: two small custom board-making workshops in the Ruhr region and in Bavaria stand as testament to a dream come true. The (presumably unnamed) workshop in Essen, with four employees and around 500 boards, is one of the largest custom board makers in Germany. The boss, Andreas, never wanted to get rich, “just to be independent”. He is now, much to his discomfort, his own boss; he says the team is “difficult to manage”: “They react angrily to pressure, just like anyone who thinks for themselves,” says the boss with a shrug. He himself always prices his boards so that he doesn’t have to make up the difference. At “Keep Cool” in a Bavarian village, too, the young shapers aren’t in it for the money: “Who can refuse a discount to a poor school pupil when you’ve been in that situation yourself?” The board builders’ starting point was a specially developed filler for damaged epoxy boards, which was brought to market with a great deal of dedication and passion. Their advice to anyone who also dreams of running their own surf business: “You’ve still got to be able to go out for a quiet beer even when your overdraft is maxed out and a 400-mark phone bill lands on your doormat.”
“For loners and those who shy away from socialising, these mass events are just as unsuitable as they are for those who prefer to live life on their own terms,” warn two surf magazine writers about organised coach trips. Such trips, offering a complete package including travel, accommodation and often surfing lessons too, are an affordable way to get to well-known spots. If things go well, you’ll have a good time with friendly, like-minded people. If things go badly, however, such a mass trip can be hell on earth. *surf* sent two reporters out incognito. The start is initially a disaster: overcrowded buses, bad coffee, a gruelling journey and a “standing area” with no solid ground beneath your feet. The top conditions over the following days and the manufacturers’ test pool then lifted their spirits, despite having a “hectic hothead” as their tour guide. But in the long run, the brands’ promotional events and the endless pizza at the same old restaurant become tedious. Apart from surfing, there’s nothing to do; without cars, the group is stuck. The second trip to the Gulf of Lyon gets off to a good start, but the group dynamic suffers due to a tightly-knit surf club and the openly declared intentions of some participants to get drunk. The “ghetto-like, hastily built concrete complex” that they end up visiting instead of a Mediterranean village doesn’t make things any better. Rain and calm seas then lead to complete disillusionment. The tour operator can’t be blamed for this, though; at least the tour guides are doing their best. And when a bit of wind does finally pick up one day, the annoyances are almost forgotten.
You can browse through the entire magazine in the gallery above!
You can browse through the entire magazine in the gallery above!

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