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. 

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