Tem dias.

De tanto nos debruçarmos sobre o mar, acabamos por vê-lo

(Ou então é ele que se mostra).

Há o mar há a mulher ( ou Uma forma de me despedir )

Ruy Belo


Há o mar há a mulher
quer um quer outro me chegam em acessíveis baías
abertas talvez no adro amplo das tardes dos domingos
Oiço chamar mas não de uma forma qualquer
chamar mas de uma certa maneira
talvez um apelo ou uma presença ou um sofrimento
Ora eu que no fundo
apesar das muitas palavras vindas nas muitas páginas dos dicionários
bem vistas as coisas disponho somente de duas palavras
desde a primeira manhã do mundo
para nomear só duas coisas
apenas preciso de as atribuir
Não sei se gosto mais do mar
se gosto mais da mulher
Sei que gosto do mar sei que gosto da mulher
e quando digo o mar a mulher
não digo mar ou mulher só por dizer
Ao dizer o mar a mulher
há penso eu um certo tom na minha voz sinto um certo travo na boca
que mostram que mais do que palavras usadas para falar
dizer como eu digo a mulher o mar
mar mulher assim ditos
são uma maneira talvez de gostar
e a consciência de que se gosta
e um prazer em o dizer
um gosto afinal em gostar
Enfim o mar a mulher
pode num dos casos ser a/mar a mulher
mera forma talvez de uniformizar o artigo
definido do singular
Há ondas no mar
o mar rebenta em ondas espraiadas nos compridos cabelos da mulher
que ela faz ondular melhor de tarde em tarde
no mês de setembro nas marés vivas
O melhor da mulher talvez o olhar
é para mim o mar da mulher
e à mulher que um só dia encontro na vida
de passagem um simples momento num sítio qualquer
talvez a muitos quilómetros do mar
mas mulher que não mais consigo esquecer
mesmo imerso na dor ou submerso em cuidados
a essa mulher qualquer
eu chamo mulher do mar
Nos fins de setembro quando eu partir
de uma cidade seja ela qual for
quando eu pressentir que alguém morre
que alguma coisa fica para sempre nos dias
e ou nuns olhos ou numa água
num pouco de água ou em muita água
onda do mar lágrima ou brilho do olhar
eu recear seriamente vir-me a submergir
direi alto ou baixo conforme puder
com a boca toda ou já a custar-me a engolir
as palavras mar ou mulher
com certo vagar e cada vez mais devagar
mulher mar
depois quase já só a pensar
o mar a mulher
Não sei mas será
talvez mais que outra coisa qualquer
uma forma de me despedir

A dream without stars is a dream forgotten.

Ó noite, porque hás-de vir sempre molhada!

Ó noite, porque hás-de vir sempre molhada!
Porque não vens de olhos enxutos
e não despes as mãos
de mágoas e de lutos!

Poque hás-de vir semimorta,
com ar macerado e de bruxedo,
e não despes os ritos, o cansaço,
e as lágrimas e os mitos e o medo!

Porque não vens natural
Como um corpo sadio que se entrega,
e não destranças os cabelos,
e não nimbas de luz a tua treva!

Porque hás-de vir com a cor da morte
- se a morte já temos nós!
Porque adormeces os gestos,
porque entristeces os versos,
e nos quebras os membros e a voz!

Porque é que vens adorada
por uma longa procissão de velas,
se eu estou à tua espera em cada estrada,
nu, inteiramente nu,
sem mistérios, sem luas e sem estrelas!

Ó noite eterna e velada,
senhora da tristeza, sê alegria!
Vem de outra maneira ou vai-te embora,
e deixa romper o dia!

Eugénio de Andrade

(1923-2005)

Só.

Sozinho.

Hoje sai de casa sozinho.

Guiei 150km para sul. Para estar sozinho no mar.

Um sozinho bom, não daqueles assustadores.

Consegui surfar sem ninguém na água durante 3 horas. Depois apareceu um outro surfista. Suponho que procurava solidão também. Fingimos os dois que não estávamos lá.

Era só eu e o mar.

O problema é voltar.

É sair do silêncio.

Hoje não fui ao mar.

Houve ondas. Das boas, das muito boas, o dia todo atrás daquela serra. E eu, prisioneiro da necessidade, sem vê-las sequer. Á distância infinita da impossibilidade. Á distância tangencial do desejo. A sabe-las lá. Do outro lado daquela serra. Que bela é. E o sol poente. E o estuário. E o mar, a começar, ao fundo. Mas a ditadura do prazer. A religiosidade da prática. Interrompidas. A tomarem, ainda que distantes, conta da contemplação. Hoje não fui ao mar. E também está bem assim. A ausência é a mais dolorosa forma de amor.

HOJE

Há dias assim, que nos prometem felicidade e futuro. E sorrisos. E algum sentido para tudo isto.

Ease down the road.

Barrels, Tubos. Our time machines.

so simple, so much.

Some people spend their entire lives seeking out the biggest and most perfect waves… Well, Erik and Pat found theirs in the middle of one the most crowded surf zones in the world. Never mind it’s a half a foot.. Watch as they their share their little peelers with nobody around but an audience of frothing dogs.

Hoje foi um dia de mar.

Um dia, gastos, voltaremos
A viver livres como os animais
E mesmo tão cansados floriremos
Irmãos vivos do mar e dos pinhais.

O vento levará os mil cansaços
Dos gestos agitados irreais
E há-de voltar aos nosso membros lassos
A leve rapidez dos animais.

Só então poderemos caminhar
Através do mistério que se embala
No verde dos pinhais na voz do mar
E em nós germinará a sua fala.

Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen

Dia do Mar IV ( 1947 )

Wisdom

"I wish that when they asked us: What is surfing? I would have said it's a spiritual activity, and not just a sport, because that's what put us on the wrong track..."

NAT YOUNG 1966 World Surfing Champion

O surfista de Manuel Alegre

Surfista

De pé na frágil tábua
onda a onda ele escrevia
poesia sobre a água.
Era uma escrita tão una
de tão perfeita harmonia
que o que ficava na espuma
não se podia apagar:
era a própria grafia
do poema do mar.

Manuel Alegre

Ericeira back in the days.... Classic.

Os surfistas olham a vida do ponto de vista do horizonte.

JUST BEAUTIFUL

WINTERTIME AND THE LIVIN'S SNOWY

LEROY GRANNIS

Leroy Grannis was born in 1917 - at the beginning of World War I - and lived through the Great Depression. He made the first cut in South Bay surf culture as a competitive surfer and paddler in the '30s and '40s. He fought for his country in WWII. Were you born yet? Guided by pioneer surf photographer Doc Ball, Granny got the photo bug and started documenting his passion. He is a man who has made major contributions to the things you and I hold sacred: surfing and skating. Were you born yet? Grannis was one of the first water photographers to paddle out on the North Shore. Twenty years later, in 1975, he was shooting the Del Mar contest, the Signal Hill Speed run, the first World Invitational Skateboard Championships. Were you born yet? Granny is everything good, honest and true. He has lived his life well. He is a giant piece of the puzzle that will always influence our sporting lives. Now if I ask you about surviving the Great Depression and your answer is Paxil, you weren't born yet...

Granny, where were you were born?
I was born in Hermosa Beach, August 12th, 1917.

What were your first memories of beach life?
I was born about a block from the ocean, so the ocean was always a big part of my life. My father was a building contractor and I remember when I was 5 or 6 years old, he'd get up early in the summertime and go swim, and I'd tag along with him. I started out bodysurfing and then moved on to belly boards.

What was the first time you got pushed by a wave?
I can't remember specifically, but I was 6 or 7 when I started bodysurfing. Then we went to Florida in 1924. I was out in Daytona Beach and I saw someone riding on a belly board. After they left, they ditched it under the pier, so I ran down there and grabbed it and tried it.

Right on.
When I got back to California, later that year, I started building my own board. With my dad being a building contractor, I had any kind of wood I wanted, so I made my own belly board. A carpenter, working with my dad, showed me how to make cuts across the board and make the nose come up. That looked real fancy to me.

Did you seal it with anything?
No, I just painted it white.

Did you put your name on it?
No. Not on the belly board. Then in '31, my mother and father were divorced and I went to live with my dad down close to the ocean and I run into a bunch of surfers. They all hung out at a place called Ma Brown's. She was my next-door neighbor in Hermosa, and her son Norman was a great surfer. Through Norman, I met Doc Ball, who hung out at the Curries Hot Dog stand. That was in 1931. Doc and I were close friends up until he died a year or so ago.

Was he taking pictures before you?
Doc saw an article that had some pictures Tom Blake did about Waikiki. Being a very inventive type, Doc decided he'd try it for himself. He started shooting with these large format cameras - 3 1/4 and 4 1/4. He built a water box because he found out Blake had made a water box using that same type of equipment. I have a bunch of Doc's negatives that he shot from the water using his water box.

How did he build it?
He stripped the outside of the Graflex, left the guts of it and built a wooden frame around it. On the front end, he had this trap door type thing that he'd open up when he was shooting. He could close it up to make it waterproof. Sometimes, when he was shooting and the wave would break outside of him, he'd just throw the whole box over the wave and then pick it up after the wave went by. He got some great stuff with that set up.

Did you ever build a water housing yourself?
I didn't build a water housing, per se. I built a wooden box that was about 15 inches long and 8 inches square with suction cups in each corner. I'd take a big gun out at Sunset and put this box on the front of it with the suction cups and paddle out. I could shoot with the camera bare, in the water. If a wave did come, I could close the box up and it was waterproof. That way I could change film out in the water and I didn't have to come in with the water box like the other guys did.

Did you ever get smacked out there?
Of course. I was sitting out there in the channel with Don James and MacGillivray and Derodney. We were out there in the channel and, all of a sudden, I looked straight out and here comes a clean up, which is very unusual in the channel. I shot the box up and got over the thing all right. I looked back and McGillery had lost a brand new Bolex. It was the first time he ever had it out in the water. He never did find it. Then Derodney was the last one in. Every time I saw him after that, he'd say, 'Remember that time we were out in the channel and we all got wiped out?'

Classic. What was your first board?
I built my first surfboard in 1931, after I met Norm Brown. He loaned me his paddleboard, but it was too big for me to handle, so I had my dad buy me a slab of pine that was 2-foot wide, 2 inches thick and about 8 feet long. I shaped what I thought was a surfboard, put varnish on it, took it out and tried to catch waves, but it was awfully difficult. That board was heavy as a rock.

Did you put a fin on it?
No, I didn't know about fins then. It was difficult to catch a wave on that thing. When I did catch a wave, most of the time, I'd pearl it. I just quit riding it, or trying to ride it, and went back to borrowing boards from Norm Brown and the guys in that group. That went on for a couple of years. In fact, I never did own a board of my own until I graduated from high school in 1935. Then I got a job. For about $6, you could buy enough lumber to build a paddleboard, so I did. I did put a fin on that one. I had some real bad luck with finless paddleboards out at the Cove. I straddled the board a couple of times, and that's very painful.

When did you have your first hollow board?
That was at Palos Verdes. I built my own. I borrowed boards all through high school, because I never had a cent during the Depression.

What was the Depression like?
Fortunately, almost everyone was in the same boat. We just didn't have anything. I'd go for months without a penny in my pocket. Then I got a job sawing wood for my dad at 30 cents an hour in the spring of '35 and I was rich. It was a good learning experience. We had nothing and we learned to get along with nothing.

Did you have a car?
No, there were probably only 20 kids in my high school that had cars. They all lived in Palos Verdes and were the children of rich parents.

Palos Verdes was affluent back then?
Yeah, they had a golf course. A number of rich people lived up there.

If you have a golf course, you're rich?
Well, they were. I don't know if that was an influencing factor or not.

What's your list of influential surfers from each generation?
In the '30s, I was really impressed with Preston Peterson, every time I saw him. He not only invented different shaped boards, but he was a tremendous surfer and a great paddler. He was the only paddler I raced against that I could never beat. I had him beat at Seal Beach once, but I couldn't catch a wave in on the end of it and he beat me on the run up to the beach. Pete was just an outstanding waterman. He had a boat salvage business and he knew all about the Channel Islands. He took Hop [Swarts] and me, and our crew of boyscout surfers, out to the Channel Islands on a weekend trip and showed us where to surf. The thing that stands out in my mind is, at that time at low tide, all the rocks were covered with abalone.

Oh, yeah, and they were free.
Not anymore.

NOTHING BUT PURE SOOTHING LINES

SUR

SOUTHBOUND

WINTER BECOMES US

Por isto tenho saudades do Inverno............

Poesia

Wisdom

"We are smaller than the sea and bigger than ourselves when we ride waves."

"Health is more than the mere absence of disease. Health is the presence of a superior state of well being - a vigor, a vitality that has to be worked for, day after day. "

" One thing all surfers have in common is, if they're in love with surfing, then they're in love with the sea, then they're in love with god. That's what makes surfing so magical. "

DORIAN PASKOWITZ ( 91 years old )

Belissimo.

A PRANCHA de pedro cezar

A PRANCHA

A prancha tava bastante usada,
o dono colocou na galeria River.
Foi vendida com todas suas memórias
15 tubos,
4 viagens à guarda do Embaú
3 beijos que saíram mais caro que o combinado
4.372 ondas sem maior importância
1 aéreo na junção
1 carona que quase virou família
3 rasgadas que renderam conversa na areia
1250 vacas
8 pontos na panturrilha
2 toneladas de pôr do sol
37 mil kilômetros de horizonte…
o turista incauto pagou 390 reais
e em 20 minutos de surfe partiu-lhe ao meio.
Os dois pedaços ficaram na beira da praia
até que um moleque de passagem
catasse os restos e inventasse um brinquedo que mudaria sua vida para sempre.

Pedro Cezar.

perfect ice cold surfing

amigos

surf

amor

sorrisos

" leve leve bô terra "

OSCAR

Há pessoas assim. Chegam-lhes uns dias, um fim de tarde, duas cervejas, uma manhã de surf, um sorriso franco e são nossas amigas para a vida. Assim foi com o Oscar. Canário de origem. Creolo por absoluta convicção. Homem de ilhas. Alma de Atlântico. É dos que não engana.

O Oscar foi viver, há uns anos já, para Sal Rei na ilha da Boavista em Cabo Verde. Saiu da sua ilha atlântica e foi para sul, para outra ilha, outra longitude mas o mesmo Atlântico. Estudou em casa, voltou a estudar em Itália e antes que a urbanidade o aprisionasse fugiu para onde se sentisse menos a Europa e a sua insídia castradora. Descobriu aí um outro ritmo ainda. Uma lentidão morna. Um calor suave. Uma pele dourada. Praias vazias. Ondas por baptizar e aquele mar todo, para se perder para sempre.

Conhecemo-nos então. Nesse breve momento de ilha encantada. 

SPINGUERA

Spinguera onde ainda está um cantinho á espera do sonho. Um sitio para encantar amigos á vez em troca de inspiração. O Paraíso perto.

Rincon ( Boavista.CV )

Ás vezes encontramos mais do que procuramos.... 

Beleza, silêncio, amor e surf...

CAMINHOS PARA O MAR

Caminhos para o mar...

CARCAVELOS 1956

Ainda as ondas e os invernos eram só das gaivotas.

O INVERNO

Lá se vai o Inverno... A luz cinzenta, o frio matinal, a coragem gelada, o nervoso miudinho, a solidão e o mar, a viver em pleno, invadindo a calma quente do verão. Lá se vai mais um Inverno... Esperamos por ti na outra ponta do calor com os olhos a brilhar de frio, de vontade, de medo, de felicidade... Anda vá...

MUNDAKA

Ainda Mundaka... Quase, quase uma memória já...