Surfers love surfboards because they trigger emotions. A pro model short board carries the promise of cutting edge performance levels. The eighties thruster contains the wild spirit of a reckless era within its clunky volume.
These boards all conjure an attitude and a spirit which adds a romantic element to the idea of the ride. A palpable quality which lends surfers to idolise boards throughout history Black Beauty. The Stickerless reverse V. The low volume magic slipper. Collectors pay dearly for this intangible metric of soul. Performance levels rise on the confidence attributable to this unquantifiable notion. Surfboards are not loved equitably as a result. Conceptualised as a mass produced board by a faceless corporation.
Manufactured by automation and a workforce to whom surfing is an abstract and foreign activity. Sold globally without regard to local surf conditions or rider sensibilities.
Unappealing to the fashion conscious, disagreeable to the discerning consumer. I still vividly remember when I first laid eyes on it 15 years ago. But there was no animated discussions with foam covered shapers for me. No earnest paring down of requirements with the local foam sage in order to establish just which form of fish I should ride.
It was straight to the nearest board retailer and grab the first fish I laid eyes on. Perhaps it was because the 7S was more functional than anything else.
