The Lure of the Local - an interview with Mike Lay
The Lure of the Local
an interview with Mike Lay
by Sam Bleakley
The American art
critic Lucy Lippard writes about how we develop a sense of ‘place’ not through personal
identification with a locality but through the way that the environment - the
‘local’ or locale - speaks to us, lures us and shapes us. Surfers can relate to
this as they continually adapt to shape-shifting seas. Above all, surfers are
shaped by their local breaks. A surfer’s relationship with a local spot educates
acute sensitivity to a specific stretch of coastline, its changing atmospheres
and moods, in turn shaping a character and style of surfing. Becoming a ‘local’
is an apprenticeship in expertise – to become an expert in any trade, craft or
profession you need to put in 10,000 hours of practice, but you also need an
added extra. Let’s call this part ‘talent’. Many of you reading this will have
rehearsed the art of surfing at your local spot until it hurts, living and
breathing a particular break through whitewater hold-downs, storms, sunburn,
sinus infections, the bony growths in your ear kicking in and reducing your
spectrum of hearing and suffering winter depressions and summer flat spells. But
the payoff comes with that memorable wave, perfecting that tough manouevre,
your friends hooting as you tuck into a tube or effortlessly hang ten on a
paper-thin face, the lip feathering.
Lucy Lippard further writes, “a sense of place is a virtual immersion
that depends on lived experience and a topographical intimacy that is rare
today both in ordinary life and in traditional educational fields.” If any
activity embodies ‘lived experience’ and education about the coastal
environment it is surfing; and every surfer aspires to
learn through work experience how to be a standout local, leaving
footprints for smaller feet to fill as they grow into the role.
The older I get and the more I
travel and surf, the more excited I become about watching a
new breed of young surfers being influenced by my local break, a place that remains
my primary source of inspiration: Gwenver or Gwynver at the north end of Sennen,
sometimes known as Whitsand or Whitesand Bay, West Cornwall’s jewel in the
crown. Among this new crew is goofyfoot longboard stylist, poet and
part-time lifeguard Michael 'Mike' Lay. I would argue that he is currently the best –
certainly the most stylish - goofyfoot single fin log specialist in Europe, marked
by his recent invitation to surf in Joel Tudor’s élite Vans Duct Tape invitational
event at the US Open of Surfing in Huntington Beach.
Locals know that Mike has been a
standout surfer at Sennen and Gwenver for some time. He has also captured a
deep sense of place in his 2011 collection of poems Upon High Hedges, illustrated by Sarah Lay’s (his mum’s) brilliant photography.
Mike describes the “man in the far west
of Cornwall who makes the weather. He lives in an adit in the side of a cliff,
a ventilation system for the mines that riddle the ground here …”. And “ … his back is barnacled and alive … ”. In
‘Closeout’ Mike describes the noseride as a “drug
of sincerest joy, ancient dance, fix of my future. This marvellous medicine,
walking on water.”
Mike’s surfing really came to the
fore a few years ago when he was working as the head lifeguard at Gwenver. That
summer season saw sizzling, long lefts through most of the tide and the banks
remained consistent. Mike managed the beach beautifully, as if born to the job, while before and after
work he surfed, whatever the conditions, without complaint. On
the overhead days he rode the rubbery, stretched lefts
with unmatched grace, adding power and a dash of pepper to make critical
sections with panache. I could see that his longboarding skills were improving,
reaching new heights, but more so, his timing was impeccable and his sense of
place had matured – Mike showed a concern and passion for what was now his home
break. I will never forget one particular day
watching from the top of the coffee-coloured cliffs as the swell was building
and Mike was locking his single fin into almond-shaped
pockets on overhead steamers topped with wild froth. He was roundhousing radical
cutbacks with uncanny timing, then accelerating out to cross-step with poise into
full hang tens amongst the boil, seeming to draw a sweet hum from his
trajectories that rolled around the cliffscape. Mike was easily the standout
local all summer, becoming ever more conversant with Gwenver’s
idiosyncratic songs of rips, eddies and vortices, striking up a deeper conversation
with every swell adding to both his surfing and lifeguarding lexicons.
I recently caught up with at Gwenver Mike for a
quick interview on his return from California. As a regular
traveller, I know that one of the central gifts of travel is
the return home to familiar stomping grounds.
“I missed home while I was in
California,” Mike admitted at the water’s edge, about to paddle out. “It was
the first time I’ve really missed Cornwall in this way.” When he paddled out, I
noticed how well he used the rip, immediately turned in the line-up as a set
approached and caught a snappy left, all in one smooth arc. As if to welcome
him home, a pod of dolphins suddenly appeared with their outrageous bursts of power and stole the show.
In many ways Mike’s surfing
has become dolphin-like in recent years, combining grace and playfulness with sudden,
muscular bursts of power. Once, he was all light, like a bubble in the wash of
waves, pulled by surface tension on that slip of oil that is the water’s
membrane. He had mastered poise, but not necessarily presence that requires
some muscular moves. Now, he has that extra power and zip, but it is neither
force nor arrogance but a presence: poetics, not persuasion. His surfing has
taken on the quality of a martial art – never fight, resist or go against, simply
move with. But this has come from putting in the hours, the months, the years,
to read the conditions, pick a set wave at its earliest gasp, stay with the
motion of the sump, and dialogue with it until its final sigh on the mica-rich
shore.
Congratulations on getting a slot in the Duct Tape event. How did you
get invited?
It was a real honour to be in such talented
and illustrious company. I got invited after winning the HipwigglerInvitational in Jersey organised by James Parry, then spending some time with
Joel in Noosa this year.
How important is Joel Tudor in the current direction of longboarding?
I think Joel has worked to
legitimise single fin longboarding and to introduce the idea of a professional longboarder
to the wider surfing world. He has also strived to achieve this whilst
retaining the inherent fun and integrity of logging at the same time. As a
result our sport/art/hobby is in a fantastic position going forward.
What was it like surfing in Huntington Beach, Surf City USA, in front of tens
of thousands of spectators?
It was a real trip, so many cameras,
people asking for autographs with no idea who I was. Apparently the crowd was
far tamer this year than in those previous, but it was still so far removed
from anything I had been involved with before. It is incredible that
longboarders are given the opportunity to experience competition on such a huge
scale.
I saw you enjoying a great ‘shared wave’ with Jarred Mell in your heat.
The 'shared wave' aspect of Joel Tudor’s Duct Tape formula brings a wonderful
flavour to the event. But how do you think surf contests should be structured
to really allow the riders to perform like dancers?
Yeah it's an awesome addition to the
format, reminding us of the fun that is the fabric of our sport. One surf
contest that is really breaking the mould and coming up with innovative contest
structures is the Gliding Barnacles event in Figueira da Foz, Portugal. They
use a series of free surfs documented by filmmakers to build a vision of the
surfers' performance. The footage is then judged by the competitors to decide a
winner. It works so well in eliminating any of the competitive bullshit that
can seep into traditional formats.
Describe your best session on this recent California trip.
My best session was ironically in
Mexico, I went down with a fantastic group of guys who work and ride for Bing
surfboards in San Diego. We managed to catch the swell from hurricane Dolores
and scored overhead empty lefthand barrels with only a handful out. I also had
a couple of good surfs at Malibu, but the crowd just sucks the fun out of it
for me. It's a long way from Cornwall.
Do you see any similarities between Cornwall (where you've grown up and
live) and California?
I travelled to central California a
couple of years ago and see more similarities there than with southern
California. There is more space in the sea, and a similar mindset with the
surfers. I think surfing in Cornwall is definitely different though. You have
to think more to surf in Cornwall, and have more purpose. That's mainly down to
the wind and the weather I think. Glassy mornings are such a luxury in
California.
Pros and cons of growing up in the UK?
History, culture, proximity to
Europe, the NHS. The waves in the UK can often be testing but I think that
breeds an open mind in terms of travel and a greater understanding of the world
as a whole. People like you Sam especially inspire UK surfers to travel to a
diverse range of destinations. I can see that lacking in the Californian surfer
- they are more content to stay put.
What seem to be the styles of boards most people are riding at the
breaks you've been surfing in California?
That is one of the greatest things
about surfing in California: the diversity of surf craft is astonishing and
across the ability spectrum. Quad fishes are really popular there, probably
because of that boards’ history in the region with Steve Lis. Also glider style
longboards, ten feet plus with pointy, almost gun-like outlines are super
popular there at the moment. But I've never seen boards like that being ridden
anywhere else in the world. I think Skip Fry helped in their popularity in
California.
You surfed at the Noosa Festival earlier in the year: is there a
difference in the approaches to longboarding that you have witnessed in
California and Australia?
At the beginning of my trip to
Australia I attended the Ho'Daddy Invitational, an event where competitors rode
Sixties style logs from the Sunshine Coast. It really opened my eyes to the
diverging paths that both nations took back then at the dawn of modern
surfboard design. Australian boards were designed for their fast pointbreaks of
the East Coast, like Noosa. Californian boards are generally bigger, heavier,
more suited to the slower moving waves of Malibu and Trestles. So far in the
single fin resurgence, design has seemed to focus on Californian style boards,
but I have noticed a shift towards more Australian style designs (wide points
further back), with shapers like Robbie Kegel and also my own shaper Mitch Surman. Mitch is passionate about the development of the single fin log and is
perfectly placed to make radical boards using a blend of Sunshine Coast history
and expert ability on longboards himself.
Tell me about your current board from Mitch Surman. What makes it
special?
It is a nine six. It is lighter than
my previous boards (from Rob Wright at Slide 65) and has some really radical
concave that runs three quarters of the board. It also has 70/30 up turned
rails. It rides super fast and turns incredibly well, whilst retaining that
single fin feel. It has a glassed on fin, that survived a plane ride back from
Australia and to-and-from California with Virgin Atlantic (who are great to
travel with for surfboards). The fin is foiled by renowned shaper Ed Hooper. It’s
an eleven inch fin, and the best I've ever had.
I know you are a keen writer with a first class honours degree in
Creative Writing and English Literature from Liverpool John Moores University, and
a published book of poetry under your belt. Are you writing at the
moment?
Yeah I've actually been rediscovering
a bit of creativity recently. I wrote a lot of poetry in California and have
been writing a few travel pieces over the last few months.
Do you read on your travels?
Yeah I try to as much as possible,
but it depends on the vibe. Sometimes you have no down time, sometimes you have
loads. On my last couple of trips I've read Heartsnatcher by Boris Vian
and Moby Dick by Herman Melville.
Anything particular you've been reading in California?
On my last two trips to California I've
tried to read as much John Steinbeck as possible. I enjoy reading stories of
the area I'm in, and Steinbeck is the master.
Is there a relationship between surfing and writing for you?
A lot of my creativity occurs in the
water. It is a wonderful time for introspection, especially in the winter. I
think it teaches you to be thoughtful more generally as well. As I said before,
you have to study to surf in the UK, I think that has helped me in my writing. But
I find it extremely difficult to write creatively about surfing alone because
the clichés are just too numerous.
What are your next movements?
My next trip is to Portugal in a few
weeks for a photo-shoot with my sponsor Reef and then hopefully a trip to
Ireland in the autumn, all with some lifeguarding and writing in between.