Manu Portet, Alaia + surf shortboard, Sri Lanka.
domenica 10 febbraio 2013
Hand built by master craftsmen and native Hawaiian, Tom "Pohaku"
- Hand built by master craftsmen and native Hawaiian, Tom "Pohaku" Stone
"He mea Kanaka Maoli - Native Made" - Authentic Hawaiian design representing 2000 years of tradition
- Each uniquely named board will come with photos of the crafting process, and a description and history of that board written by Pohaku himself
The Making of a Board
Step one: Choosing the Right Log | Pohaku must choose the right log or wood for the surf board he is going to carve . Once the right wood is found, there is the offering of the ho'okupu (ritual sacrifice) to the gods and ancestors to ask permission to take the wood . This is our native way of assuring the gods that the life of the wood will continue, just in another form . This protocol is the honoring of the gods and our ancestors for the knowledge of the old ways . |
Step Two: Rough cutting the log | Once the wood has been blessed, he then rough cuts the log into the general length and width of the surf board type he is building. |
Step Three: Finding the Spirit of the Wood | The next step is the offering of the ‘awa (kava) to invoke the awakening of the spirit that resides in the wood, in this way Pohaku connects with that spirit and sees the image that will be created from the wood and the name that will be given to that work of art. He is then able to measure by eye and outline the surfboard that lies within the wood. |
Step Four: Carving the Outline | Now the labor intensive stage of carving the outline of the board begins. It is vital for Pohaku to follow the lines of the shape he has seen, while maintaining the integrity of the natural flow of the wood. |
Step Five: Shaping the Bottom and Rails | The next step is the shaping of the bottom of the board and the rails. This stage is important to the performance of the board on the water, and it is important that Pohaku generates a smooth, consistent flow along the rails, and a bottom shape that allows for stable paddling and surfing. |
Step Six: Shaping the Nose | After the bottom and rails are designed, Pohaku then shapes the nose of the surf board. The nose gives the surf board much of its defining character, and is a true test of craftsmanship, with all of the angles tapering into a final curve. It is important at this stage to also make a nose with the right amount of rocker to handle a drop in while surfing the wave that the board is designed for. |
Step Seven: Sanding | Pohaku then sands the surf board for comfort and beauty, bringing out the stunning beauty and character of the woods used. |
Step Eight: Bless the Board | The final ho'okupu offering is made to recognize the new life of the wood, assuring the gods that the original life of the wood is continuing in this new form. |
| Step Nine: Name, Photograph and Document the Finished Board hawaian boarding company  |
Brief History - Papahe’enalu (Surfboards)
Surfing is one of the oldest continuously practiced sports on the planet. The art of wave riding is a mixture of sheer athleticism, art and culture. Much of what we know about surfing was recorded when Europeans first landed in Polynesia in the late 1700's.
It is thought that early surfing began with Polynesians riding waves in their canoes, on their way in to shore from a day of fishing. Ingeniously, they discovered that, given a little more paddling effort, they were able to catch waves over coral reefs and hasten their arrival on the beach. As a culture that cherished the sea, these Polynesians found a way to make their chores into a game of fun. These first surfers were true waterman in their use of strength and skill to maneuver these heavy boats, which eventually evolved into slabs of wood.
The first Polynesian surfers who began standing upon wooden boards in the surf of the Pacific Ocean did so between 1500 B.C. and 400 A.D. And today, we wish to take you on a journey back to those days of old....
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Ancient surfboard style is finding new devotees
Ancient Surfboard Style Is Finding New Devotees
Stephanie Diani for The New York Times
Chad Marshall on Venice Beach.
By JAMIE BRISICK
Published: December 3, 2009
LIDO BEACH, N.Y. — On a cloudless day in October I made my way toward the water at this popular surfing beach on Long Island. All was fairly typical: the waves were waist high and zippy, the water temperature was a friendly 63 degrees, and roughly 20 surfers dotted the glassy lineup. The wetsuit on my back was made of UltraFlex neoprene, the sunscreen on my face was a whopping SPF 85 — but the board under my arm looked like something out of “The Flintstones.”
My surfcraft that day was an alaia (pronounced ah-LIE-ah), a replica of the thin, round-nosed, square-tailed boards ridden in pre-20th-centuryHawaii. The originals were 7 to 12 feet long, generally made of koa wood and could weigh up to 100 pounds. They resemble nothing so much as antique ironing boards, but their most distinctive feature compared with modern equipment is that they are finless.
Ancient Hawaiian boards had mostly been relegated to museums and private collections; they were seen as artifacts rather than functional designs. But a recent movement in surfing that mines the past has raised their profile.
In the last five years alaias have enjoyed a renaissance. They have been taken up by some of the world’s best surfers and show up heavily in magazines, movies, Web sites and blogs.
The new versions tend to be six to seven feet long, for maneuverability, and are carved from a range of woods including paulownia, pine, cedar and even plywood.
A modern surfer will find alaias extremely difficult to paddle. Because they are only about 18 inches wide and one inch thick, they provide minimal flotation. I have been a dedicated surfer for more than 30 years and like to think that my arms and shoulders have adapted to paddling the way a marathon runner’s legs have adapted to running, but I was sore and winded by the time I made it out to the waves that day.
But the alaia’s challenge doesn’t end there. Without fins on the board to dig into the water, I went head over heels on my first five waves. On my next 10 I made it down the face, but when I went to turn, the board slid sideways, and I found myself washing to shore, feet first and wildly out of control. It was like learning to surf all over again.
So why ride something so primitive when the modern surfboard is infinitely more user-friendly?
An obvious attraction is the fin-free feeling of skimming across the water, which the ancient Hawaiians called “lala” — a controlled slide in and around the pocket of the wave.
Cyrus Sutton, a surfer and filmmaker in Encinitas, Calif., has shaped alaias in his backyard. “The alaia has a mind of its own,” he said. “It bends and snakes with the wave. It’s alive under your feet. And the speed is just ridiculous.”
Richard Kenvin, a former pro surfer from San Diego, credits the alaia with giving him “some of the most magical feelings I’ve ever had.”
Chad Marshall, a surfer in Malibu, Calif., known for his flamboyant longboard riding, said: “I like the friction-free vibe. I like that it slots you in that sweet spot on the wave.”
Another draw is the link to the sport’s early Polynesian history at a time when the surfing life has become heavily commercialized, and surfboards have become commodified.
The alaia provides a stripped down, back-to-the-roots alternative. They are to surfing what the fixed gear is to cycling or the bow and arrow are to hunting. And unlike their often-mass-produced foam-and-fiberglass cousins, which you must buy from a manufacturer for $500 and up, alaias are cheap and easy to make, and considerably easier on the environment.
Tom Stone, a professor of Hawaiian studies at the University of Hawaii and a surfboard shaper, said the early alaias were essentially made from scraps. After felling a sacred tree, the ancient Hawaiians would use the bulk of the log to carve out a canoe, and the leftover planks to create alaias. But while the originals were planned and executed with great pageantry (prayers, offerings, pig roasts), their modern-day equivalents are often shaped with household tools in suburban backyards.
“It’s taking ownership of your surfing experience,” Mr. Sutton said. “And they’re kind of like works in progress. I’ll go back and forth between the sawhorse and the surf until the board’s just right.”
Making an alaia involves little more than a jigsaw, a hand planer, sandpaper and the right piece of wood. Once smooth, they are covered with a sealant, typically linseed oil and gum turpentine. The hard part is learning to make them fly on water.
“I always tell surfers to go out into knee-deep water and push into whitewash and ride prone, just to get the feel,” said Tom Wegener, a surfer and shaper in Australia who was instrumental in the alaia’s resurgence. “Do that 20 times, then go outside and try to pick off a proper wave and stand up.”Alaia-philes insist the boards are accessible to the average surfer with a large reservoir of humility and patience. They do admit to an inevitable rough initiation, but then, they say, a kind of breakthrough occurs that transforms the entire surfing experience.
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“They require a superb level of fitness, expertise and understanding,” said Scott Hulet, the editor of The Surfer’s Journal. “They’re essentially swimming surf culture into deep water and saying, ‘Let’s see if you can handle this.’ ”
Mollusk, a surf shop in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, has sold three alaias in six months — two to above-average surfers. Thalia Surf Shop, in Laguna Beach, Calif., sold around 10 over the summer, mostly to younger surfers. Prices range from $595 to $615.
Another hurdle to mass acceptance is that an alaia is rarely used with a leash. Just as the ancient Hawaiians did, if you lose your board, you have to swim for it. They’re also more dangerous. While wrestling the alaia through the relatively gentle waves of Lido Beach, I was nearly smacked in the face by its cleaverlike tail. It occurred to me that unlike regular surfboards, which are notoriously fragile and often break before we do, the alaia’s heavy, hard wood could do serious damage.
But to some, the challenge is the point.
“They put you in check,” said Mr. Marshall in Malibu. “They show you how difficult and beautiful and pure it was for the ancient Hawaiians.”
They also contain a certain poetry. In a sport teeming with variables — weather, waves, wind — they seem to stack the odds even further against you.
I was getting a firsthand taste of this at Lido Beach when suddenly it all clicked. A small, well-shaped wave loomed, I scratched into it, angled, felt the bladelike edge connect, and popped to my feet. For the first couple of seconds I was too dumbstruck to enjoy myself, but then I settled in. The alaia gave a peculiar, lifting feeling that defied its thinness. I felt closer to the water yet high above it. And the speed was indeed ridiculous — a jet-propelled, slingshot sensation. I barreled across the wave in a rapt crouch until it petered out, then I proned to shore. The entire ride lasted perhaps six seconds, but it would replay in my mind for the next week.
As Mr. Marshall put it, “One ride on the alaia is equal to a hundred on a regular board.”
INFORMATION
Tom Wegener, of Noosa, Australia, makes and sells alaias and other wooden surfboards (tomwegenersurfboards.com). His brother Jon in Hermosa Beach, Calif., also makes alaias (wegenersurfboards.com).
Tom Stone, a professor of Hawaiian history, makes alaias as well as traditional papaholua sleds for sliding down grassy hillsides (hawaiibc.com).
Retailers that sell alaias include Mollusk Surf Shop, with stores in San Francisco(mollusksurfshop.com); Venice, Calif. (mollusksurfshop.com/venice/); and Brooklyn (mollusksurfshopnyc.com), and Thalia Street Surf Shop (thaliasurf.com), in Newport Beach, Calif.
Alaia from wikipedia
From Wikipedia,
An alaia (pronounced: ah-LIE-ah[1]) is a thin, round-nosed, square-tailed surfboard ridden in pre-20th century Hawaii. The boards were between 7 and 12 ft (2.1 and 3.7 m) long, weighed up to 100 lb (45 kg), and were generally made from the wood of Acacia koa.[2] They are distinct from modern surfboards in that they have no ventral fins.[1]
Modern alaias are 5’ to 12’ long and are the larger version of the Paipo board, used for knee or belly surfing, and the smaller version of the Olo board, generally between 18’ and 24’ long. All of these board types are similar in that all are made of wood and are ridden without a fin/skeg.
[edit]History
The alaia’s roots span back a thousand years.[3] Lala is the Hawaiian word describing the action of riding an alaia surfboard. Lala is a word found in the Hawaiian dictionary meaning ‘the controlled slide in the curl when surfing on a board.'[4]
“In Hawaii the board was called alaia. In Japan it was called Itaka. There is evidence of early surfers riding this style from all around the world but in the early 1900s this style vanished.”[5] Alaia boards began making a comeback around 2006 when surfboard-shaper and experimenter Tom Wegener tested prototypes made of Paulownia wood among pro-surfers.[6] The first contemporary professional surfers to master the skill of riding an alaia were documented in the Thomas Campbell surf film The Present. This appearance dramatically increased the popularity of the alaia board type.[3]
[edit]Materials
“Ancient Hawaiians made their boards out of local woods–‘ulu, koa and wiliwili.”[7] Modern Alaia boards are made of many types of wood, including Redwood, Cedar, Pine and Balsa. Typically, commercially sold alaia boards are made of paulownia.
Paulownia is optimal for crafting surfboards in that it has a good weight to strength ratio, being lighter than other hardwoods and more durable than balsa. It also absorbs less salt water than many other types of wood and therefore does not require a hard resin or glass finish.[3][8]
Paulownia alaia boards are most often finished with a seed oil to further prevent water absorption and to prevent damage from the drying of salt and sun associated with surfing.
[edit]Environmental impact
Many environmentalists are enthusiastic about the use of paulownia alaia boards because of their minimal impact on the environment, while fiberglass and epoxy surfboards are known for their many pollutants and long decomposition time.
Beyond avoiding fiberglass and epoxy resins, modern Alaia boards have less impact on the environment based on the way the Paulownia wood is harvested, used and recycled. “Paulownia is plantation grown… The trees grow like weeds, about 25 feet in three years and they are never from an old growth forest. Just sustainable tree farms…the leaves and flowers, is either fed to cattle or the dust and shavings are mulched… Paulownia dust (and shavings) is very good in the garden and breaks down quickly. Worms love it.”[8]
Shapers also appreciate that paulownia wood is non-toxic to humans, whereas resins, fiberglass and foam are harmful to the lungs and suspected of increasing the likelihood of cancer. Even “balsa wood dust hurts your lungs.”[8] After construction, paulownia boards can be reshaped and repaired without use of more toxic materials. When cared for properly the boards can last a lifetime requiring less manufacturing, and when their usefulness has run out, simply discontinuing oil treatment to the board will allow it to decompose quickly without releasing harmful toxins found in foam and resin into the air and soil.[5]
sabato 9 febbraio 2013
Alaia Compost and Tom Wegener Surfboards
Alaia Building, Riding, Sliding
Wegener Promo Video 2009
This is a short promo for alaias shaped by Tom & Jon Wegener under the Wegener Surfboards label.
An alaia is a finless plank of wood based on boards surfed by Hawaiians for thousands of years before European contact.
Surfers: Ryan Burch & Eric Snortum
Music: Small Defence (myspace.com/smalldefence)
Camera/Edit: Nathan Oldfield
To order a custom alaia or an alaia blank please visit:
tomwegenersurfboards.com & wegenersurfboards.com
Thanks for watching.
An alaia is a finless plank of wood based on boards surfed by Hawaiians for thousands of years before European contact.
Surfers: Ryan Burch & Eric Snortum
Music: Small Defence (myspace.com/smalldefence)
Camera/Edit: Nathan Oldfield
To order a custom alaia or an alaia blank please visit:
tomwegenersurfboards.com & wegenersurfboards.com
Thanks for watching.
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