Surfing’s Wooden Lala-land!

Just when you thought it was safe to get back in the water those fiendish marketing spin doctors have contrived yet another chunk of prohibitively expensive nostalgia; the Alaia. Much like its obese cousin, the SUP, the Alaia has been packaged as a one-stop portal to the sancta sanctorum of surfing’s roots. These finless, rockerless chunks of driftwood epitomise surfing’s recent retrograde obsession with finding the Holy Grail of surfing.

Surfing appears to be locked in a vicious circle of nostalgia. The word ‘Saudade’ has been described as a "vague and constant desire for something that does not and probably cannot exist ... a turning towards the past or towards the future". In some respects surfing is in a state of ‘Saudade’, and the Alaia is a physical manifestation of surfing’s nostalgic dilemma.

The Alaia was almost single-handedly revived by the shaper Tom Wegener who was recently crowned as shaper of 2009 by Surfer magazine. According to Wegener,” Surfing in the ancient style on a finless wood board has been overlooked for many years now. 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 1900’s this style vanished.” Alaias are hewn from plantation grown trees, often organically grown so there’s a very marketable and politically correct hook for guilt-ridden consumers. According to Wegener, riding an Alaia positions your surfing on “a more universal scale”. I’m not sure how that translates in the water but he goes on to blather “on modern equipment you may catch more waves and “rip,” but are you surfing better?”.

There’s no doubt that Wegener has the makings of a salty philosopher but I’m not too keen on a board that paddles like a tomato carton and decimates your wave count. Wegener counters the lack of the Alaia’s wave catching and paddling ability by offering us mere mortals an esoteric challenge of sorts; “Riding the Alaia brings a new level of difficulty which turns most people off. But lots of the world’s best surfers find that this brings more excitement and joy to surfing.” Sorry Mr Wegener, but I’m not one of the world’s best surfers, and unlike the world’s best surfers I have 9 to 5 job so I’d like to keep my wave count at a premium!

I’m at a loss as to why anyone would want to ride something that requires so much graft. The Alaia paddles like a waterlogged Labrador with hip dysplasia and requires the skill set of a highly experienced waterman. Backlit images of Rob Machado and Rasta gouging open face carves on Alaias in California glass are mere marketing lip-gloss. Rob could get shacked on your granny’s tea tray, yet somehow we like to think that the Alaia is within our surfing ability. Just the other day we were sold the forgiving lines and extra foam of the Fish, the Egg and other retro classics; we’d catch waves earlier, easier and hurtle down the line like a deranged banshee on those boards of yore. That had real appeal for Joe Average, but now we’re been told to sing for our supper on chunks of oiled wood that are going to emancipate our surfing from the shackles of conformity. Forget it Bru, methinks that the Alaia is cut from the same cloth as the Emperor’s New Clothes.

Average surfers want a board that paddles efficiently, surfs decently, and actually has fins and a leash plug. I very much doubt there are any surfers out there who still decry the merits of the gookcord; besides a leashless board is a potential weapon of mass destruction in any congested surf zone.

Naturally, Alaias are completely eco-conscious and will offer a guiltless surfing experience, free from the evils of foam, fibreglass and polyurethane. You’re guaranteed long swims including the odd lawsuit as your trusty wooden steed will no doubt mow down all in its leftist path. Surfing’s troubadour of musical boredom, Jack Johnson will frame the fad with a planet-friendly ditty that will no doubt mesmerise the masses and become a soundtrack for the Alaia generation. Sorry, but I’m willing to take my chances on a politically incorrect chunk of fibreglass, securely tethered to my ankle.

Despite my aversion to the concept of the Alaia I foresee highly profitable niche brands materialising in the global surf market. Wetsuits will be discarded and Hawaiian style loincloths will become boardies for Alaia fashionistas, followed by an unparalleled meister-stroke of marketing genius, the revival of Peruvian Reed boats. Shapers will soon enough be ordering thatch by the truckload thanks to the Alaia fad.

It’s as clear as a crisp winter’s morn over False Bay, as an intrepid big wave hell-man strokes hard and makes an air-drop at an offshore slab on a handcrafted replica of an ancient Peruvian reed boat, with not a WaveRunner in sight!

No wetsuit, leash or common sense required …just a loincloth!