Scandinavian daze

Every couple of years, I re-read a couple of the same books, getting the same fire I got when I read them for the first time. Back then, when I discovered the genre of surf-litterature, it was a sort of revelation. Finally, books I wanted to devour, after years of trudging through prescribed books that didn’t fall into taste. Specifically one book has had a unique effect on me - every time I read it, I go on a tirade, searching for my next chapter. Finnegan has a surfing life that many would love to emulate. At the same time, there’s much to decipher between the lines. Surfing draws him far away for long periods of his life, that is both geographically, but also interpersonally. Far from family, friends and commitments. It does that to you, surfing. You meet your best and worst selves on surf-binges.

I envy the clarity he writes with, minuscule details of sessions twenty years past. Many parts of my surfing life seem like a daze, with only brief moments shining through. Maybe writing helps bring back some details buried deep in the cortex… just have to remind the thalamus where they are. I could also imagine that, as a lifelong writer, Finnegan probably kept detailed journals of his sessions. I’ve tried to do the same before, but I’m usually completely cooked after a day of surfing to where just jotting down a few notes becomes a huge chore.

A re-reading of Barbarian Days just before a surf-haj to Indonesia is the inspiration for starting this, but we’ll see where this goes, as my surfing life is (hopefully) no where close to the end. The most exciting chapters may even be in the future. I’m also no professional writer and my brain is language-confused more than 50% of the time. So let’s see what this collection of colloquial anamneses, journal entries and map scribbles end up being whenever my surfing life comes to a close and it’s passed on the next surf-adventurer of kin.

- Nicholas, Telemark, August 2022