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History | Lumber | Milling | Glue Up | Shaping | Making Fins As a ten year old growing up in Orange County in the mid 50's I helped a neighbor unload a car full of lumber into his garage. It turned out to be a load of balsa wood and I got to help build the first surfboard I had ever seen from start-to-finish. Sweeping up the mess and fetching tools was mostly my contribution. Upon smelling the freshly cut wood and polyester resin I was hooked. The leftover balsa wood scraps were mine to keep, making countless model surfboards. Although my friends and I were avid inflatable raft surfers who frequented Corona del Mar and Newport Beach, we had never seen anyone with a surfboard or even riding one for that matter.
By the time I was in the eighth grade I was making my own skim boards, I had a steady girlfriend and a close-knit circle of friends. We spent warm summer days riding waves on our rafts at 15th Street in Newport or skimboarding at the pier.
Then tragedy struck!
My mom remarried and informed me we were moving to Las Vegas. As soon as we moved I discovered our new place of residence really sucked. I sank into the teenage rebellion mode. The first day at a new school was absolute culture shock. I was the only kid wearing worn out Levi's, a wrinkled T-shirt and tennis shoes, while all of the other guys wore pressed slacks, ironed sport shirts and leather oxfords. Nobody wanted to make friends with me.
After a few weeks I became acquainted with a Santa Monica transplant named Roger. Although Roger was more or less accepting the Las Vegas lifestyle, he still talked about running away from home and going back to the beach. However, Roger just didn't have the means to follow through with his fantasy.
By March of 1961 my stepfather injured his knee playing golf. He had to return to Orange County for surgery, leaving me and my mom behind. After a couple of weeks my mom informed me we also needed to go back for a week or two because she needed to look in on my stepfather who was now in the Long Beach Veterans Hospital and not doing well. He apparently suffered a stroke after surgery. This visit coincided with spring break and my old pals in Orange County were out of school for a whole week! Was I stoked to be going back home or what?
As soon as we arrived at our hotel in Orange County I began frantically calling everyone I knew. Those few months in Las Vegas seemed like a lifetime for me and I had a lot of catching up to do. When I called my friend Joe Potter he invited me to go to the beach the next day with him and his brother Norman. My mom said it was OK and I set the alarm clock for 6 a.m. and packed a lunch.
I woke up before the alarm went off and hurried out the door taking only the bare essentials for a day at the beach. The weather was perfect, as a Santa Ana wind condition was developing and there wasn't a hint of marine layer or overcast. Joe lived about a mile away and I ran all the way to his house without stopping.
When I arrived Joe was in the front yard rubbing parafin wax onto the deck of two surfboards. "Are we taking these surfboards to the beach with us?" I asked with total surprise and breathless excitement. "Yeah, what did you think we were going to with them? Norm's driving us to River Jetty in my mom's car and we'll be there all day." Oh wow, we were going surfing. THIS WAS MY VERY FIRST TIME!!!". I was so excited I couldn't see straight. I almost peed my pants as I danced around with excitement.
River Jetty is the terminus of a flood control channel located between Newport Beach and Huntington Beach. The water was so shallow at that time you could walk from the ends of the two jetties all the way to the Pacific Electric Red Car train track bridge and the Pacific Coast Highway. Occasionally, there were stingrays basking on the sandy bottom so you had to be careful not to step on any. Waves broke between the two jetties and they'd roll almost all the way to the train track. It was perfect for beginners.
Joe and Norman had already been surfing for several months after seeing the movie "Gidget" and they knew how to act and 'talk the talk'. Between the two of them they had a balsa wood Hobie and a pink and white splash-pigmented Velzy. Once the boards were loaded into the car we were on our way. Norm collected gas money from us and a few more coins for cigars. Norm said we were required to to surf with a cigar in our mouth just like Kahuna. "Who the hell is Kahuna?" I asked. They both turned around and looked at me like I was brain dead or something. "Don't you know who the Kahuna is? He's the surfer of surfers. So just shut up and give us your money, yah dip shit!". I reluctantly obeyed and pretended I wasn't really a dip shit, but I knew that I really was. I didn't need to be reminded that I lived 300 miles inland. In dreaded LAS VEGAS!
As it turned out we were three of the very few surfers at River jetty that day, and for the whole week actually. We traded off using the two surfboards until late in the afternoon each day. The weather was perfect and easy small waves were breaking between the jetties. I focused on chasing the whitewater, as it made it easy for a beginner like me to paddle into their path and wait to be propelled toward shore. It didn't take more that a couple of days before I was standing up and riding the entire length of the two jetties. By the end of the week I could even knee paddle like the Potter brothers and keep my lit cigar dry.
My perfect spring break ended and I was back in the classroom at my junior high school in Las Vegas, daydreaming of my surfing fantasy while peeling the sunburned scabby remains from my cheeks and nose.
The desert weather was quickly turning hot and I somehow had to endure the remaining eight weeks of school before summer vacation. I took on a summer paper route and Roger, my only friend in all of Nevada, kept asking me when we were going to run away to California and be surfers. I guess I sorta blew his mind with my telling him of my surfing adventure. He was miserable and wanted outta there. I was miserable too, but I managed to keep busy by fantasizing of surfing with the Potter brothers or riding my Go Kart mini bike in the desert.
One day an attractive neighbor lady who occupied the apartment above ours, who worked nights at a Las Vegas hotel, asked if I'd be interested in entertaining her son Sandy while he visited her for a few days. "He's about your age and lives with his father in Redondo Beach. I think you two will hit it off just fine." I reluctantly agreed.
A few days later Sandy showed up at my front door and introduced himself. I'll never forget what he was wearing. He had on Mexican hurachi sandals, cutoff cord shorts and a Greg Noll Surfboards T-shirt. We were immediate friends. He said "I live with my dad because my parents are divorced. I would have preferred living with my mom, but I prefer the beach. Anyway, I go to South High School in Redondo. Mostly, I'd rather be surfing today than cooking here in this hot desert sun." Geez, was this guy living my fantasy life or what? "Mom," I yelled over my shoulder, "can I run away with Roger and live with Sandy and surf for the rest of my life?" She was convinced I was joking to get attention. But I was dead serious.
Sandy was surprised when I told him I had been surfing and I was now totally into it, although I was presently marooned in Las Vegas. He said, "some day you'll be back at the coast so don't worry so much about it". He had a totally laid back attitude and very optimistic. I wanted to be like Sandy.
Going to see "Gidget"
Both Roger and I became friends with Sandy and in a short time the three of us hung out together for the few days Sandy was visiting. One day Sandy asked if we would like to go to the movies that night. He said his mom would drop us at the Fremont Theater downtown. "Sure, we'll go. Whatever is playing is fine as long as there's an air conditioner." It was July and Las Vegas really cooks in July. "The movie is called "Gidget. You guys might like it. I've seen it twice and I think it's great! It's about surfing!" Hmmm, I thought. Could this be the same movie the Potter's were talking about? ,
I don't need to tell you about "Gidget", as I'm sure you have seen the movie too. But after the movie was over, and as we walked outside of the theater, I became speechless. In fact I was sick! Over and over again I kept asking myself, why hadn't I run away yet? What the hell am I doing in this awful place? My real friends were at the beach, waves were being ridden and I needed to get back there and change my life to what it had been before. I needed some waves! I needed to smell the ocean again!
"Wake up, wake up, WAKE UP!" I was standing over mom. She was sound asleep. I was yelling for her to listen to me for once in my miserable life. "We need to move home. I hate it here! If we don't move back to California I'm running away!". She slowly rolled over and looked at me, not sure if I was insane or just crazy. "I'll talk to you in the morning about this. Now go to bed!"
"I've got good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?" My mom had a serious look of concern on her face. I knew immediately this was to be a serious confrontation. I grew up never saying "NO" to my mom. That's the way it was. I respected and obeyed her. My mom was it.
"Since I'm accustomed to bad news, give me the bad news first." She said my stepfather, while recovering from knee surgery, had experienced a stroke and wasn't doing so well.
"OK, so what's the bad news?", I asked. "Ooops, I meant to ask, what's the good news?" A brief pause here, as I'm sure my mom recognized my cynisim and I was pushing the teenage diplomatic envelope. "We have to move back to Orange County!"
Whaaaaa, I almost went through the ceiling. Did I hear her correctly? My jaw hit the floor and bounced back in disbelief. Did my mom just say we're moving back home? Did she say I would soon be surfing again with my friends? There is a God in heaven after all.
My first surfboard
The Potter brothers sold the pink and white splash pigmented Velzy to me for a whopping $7.50. The fin was loose and ready to fall off. There were so many dings on the rails that my wrists were bloody after a day of surfing. The price for resin and fiberglass was more than what the board cost. I spent hours patching the dings and glassing on a new fin. The next day the the resin was still wet. So I went back to the supplier and asked what was the secret to getting the resin to dry. The salesperson asked "well, how much catalyst did you use? "Catalyst, what's that?", I asked. So I got a bottle of catalyst and returned home to spend several more hours doing the ding repairs and fin installation, all over again! Duh, I was only 14 years old and they never mentioned the damn catalyst.
Soon, I traded my Go Kart mini bike to Joe Potter for the 9'-6" balsa wood Hobie. The serial number was 503. I sold the Velzy to a friend and I rode the Hobie for a few years before I bought a new foam Hobie.
Through the years I've owned countless foam surfboards that rode well but foam never compared to the beauty of wood. I've always pursued woodworking as an avocation after taking wood shop classes in junior high and high school, later majoring in Wood Technology at Fullerton College and Industrial Arts at California State University Long Beach.
After college I worked as a firefighter for 31 years before retiring. Along the way my 'day's-off' time was spent surfing San Onofre, Church's and Trestles, working with friends or family on various endeavors, building or fabricating whatever needed to be built or fabricated.
The fantasy of making and riding my own balsa wood surfboard would come and go and frequent visits to lumber yards never yielded a source for imported balsa wood. I made this a reality after finally acquiring a source for wood and building my first wood surfboard.
This work has become my passion! I build one surfboard at a time for the surfboard collector wanting a pristine "wall hanger" and/or occasional sweet riding balsa wood classic for those few epic days at a local point break or secret spot. However, those who acquire a wood surfboard for a collection will no doubt never ride it, becoming a focal point proudly displayed on a living room wall.
This is a small operation where only vintage planks and hot curls, 1960's classics, and contemporary big-wave gun wood surfboards are made by hand from imported balsa wood lumber.
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Lumber
It's always like your first time!Waiting and waiting, and finally taking delivery of several bundles of balsa wood. It's such a rush, but now the work begins. Not all lumber is the same. Color and weight varies from stick to stick, bundle to bundle.
It seems that no matter how selective and fussy I am when choosing lumber, the task begins all over again when it comes to matching "sticks" for a particular surfboard. Weight is the enemy but color and grain configuration are a prerequisite for my needs. A 9-foot balsa wood surfboard with several stringers might weigh about 26 lbs. after fiberglassing and a single glassed-on wood fin.
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Milling
Until balsa wood is surface planed and band milled, it's anyone's guess what each stick looks like. Surface planing is also the first step taken to ensure perfect glue joints between sticks and stringers.
Rocker isn't an accident. To ensure a specific rocker, each segment is cut using a rocker template. This hasn't always been the case, however. Throughout the early 20th century wood surfboard rocker was limited to whatever a flat, glued up blank would yield. I have nothing but the utmost respect for those noble, skilled hand tool craftsmen who pioneered surfboard design and construction in the early years. They used a hand plane, drawknife and other hand tools to cut rocker into their surfboards, shaping such beautiful sought-after vintage and classic surfboards that now command a very respectable price.
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Glue Up
A 'glue up' isn't a quick and dirty, drippy process using glue and clamps to adhere several lengths of lumber and stringers together, side-by-side, all at one time, when building a blank. One segment at a time is glued to another; clamped and allowed to dry several hours. Then the clamps are released, glue is applied to another segment, and re-clamped for several hours. This process is repeated again and again until all of the components of a surfboard are glued together, completing the blank. This is very time-consuming and too impractical for most woodworking operations where profit margin is critical. I'm not into this just for the money, anyway. All of these tasks ensure good joinery and an accurate blank without the slightest hint of twist or wind that would otherwise need to be shaped out later.
Of all my wood shop teachers, Ray Tolman is the one who taught me everything I needed to know to do woodworking without cutting corners or making "shit-shop" projects. Mr. Tolman, who taught at Fullerton College is held in high esteem by all those who studied under his direction.At one time in Ray's career he was a custom furniture maker in Santa Monica. He employed only the best journeyman woodworkers, building furnishings for the rich and famous, including Marilyn Monroe. Mr. Tolman always stressed the importance of good joinery, close attention to detail and tight glue ups, saying "You can never have too many bar clamps, even in the smallest of shops."
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Shaping
I won't apologize for not having shaped twenty thousand surfboards in my career before I began building balsa wood surfboards. It was just a matter of opportunity. For many years I watched a long-time surfing friend, and one of the leading surfboard shapers, do his magic. Every board he shaped was incredible. I've ridden many and each board I ordered from him I was allowed to watch being shaped while we talked at length.On one occasion I inquired if he would shape a balsa wood surfboard for me, or at least teach me to shape. That was a mistake! After a long silence and a critical stare in my direction he set his tools down and politely declined, pointing to the door for me to leave. I often wonder if he realized I was absorbing some of the basics of shaping 1A over the years while watching him work. I was shattered! The look on his face was as if I, his most trusted friend from our early years of surfing Doheny, had just snaked from him the wave of the day. Where could I run and hide?
That was a turning point for me. Suddenly I was jealous that I didn't have that talent, and humiliated for crossing the line. As I strolled out of his shaping room for the last time I turned and said, "then I'll go somewhere else to learn to do my own magic!". We have remained friends, however, but we never discuss the subject of surfboard making.
After beating my head against the wall, ruining numerous blanks over the years, bribing my so-called friends to just try out one of my crummy boards, asking dumb-ass questions of people who would rather not share their many years of shaping experience with the likes of me, I finally connected with a big-hearted master shaper! He too has been a friend for many years, and to me a spiritual giant. It never occurred to me he would be a willing teacher of his shaping expertise. We never traded waves due to our age difference, but he shares his methods of shaping, and I for the most part, will always be a student, and he my mentor, much like Ray Tolman when I studied woodworking in college.
I now pride myself building beautiful balsa wood surfboards as if my long-time friends and teachers are looking over my shoulder, giving critical advice but not admitting they're stoked that I can apply what they have taught me.
By the time I have pulled lumber from storage, done the initial machine milling and bandsawing, carefully chosen each stick for a particular board, glued the blank and completed shaping, I've invested over forty-plus hours. Another 6 to 8 hours of hand sanding and the blank is ready for the glasser.
Making Fins
I build my own fins from whatever hardwood that color matches the stringer and/or balsa wood combination I've chosen for a particular surfboard. Making surfboard fins is actually not difficult as long as you don't mind the mess, and the noise and dust from all of the sanding. This must be done outside unless you have a dust collection system. I've been making fins this way since Mr. Meyer's high school wood shop class at Orange High School in the mid-sixties. The wood shop teacher let us unruley 'surfer-types' make surfboard fins in class for extra credit. The scrap hardwood was put to good use that otherwise was thrown out. Most surfboard fins made in schools at that time were made up with at least five or six different hardwoods as we were all copying something we saw on a board at the beach or in the surf magazines. I tore the fin off of my first Hobie and replaced it right away. I did the same thing on my Wardy several times, just to glass on the latest fad-fin design.Soon I was doing the same for friends while still in high school, along with doing pigment jobs and ding repair. I even had an informal business partnership with a high school friend, Jon White. We pigmented friends' surfboards in his garage, making gas money for rides to the beach. His family must have been very tolerant as we managed to stink up the entire neighborhood with resin vapors. My friends and I thought making a surfboard heavier with a thick coat of pigment was a better nose rider. It definiely made running away from Camp Pendleton MPs at Trestles more difficult. So some of us resorted to storing our heavy, antiquated surfboards in a big tree on the beach between Lowers and Church. However, on one weekend we hitchhiked down to Trestles only to discover our boards had all been stolen!
There are several hardwoods from which I try to make fins because they either match up with a board I'm working on, were generally preferred in the 1960's so I consider them "classic fin-making hardwoods", or a particular tropical exotic hardwood like spalted mango or curley koa. I also use walnut, mahogany, basswood, and ash.
Once the fin is glued up, cut out and foiled, I do final sanding by hand. Then the entire wood surface area is "pasted" with a styrene-thinned hot batch of laminating resin and set aside to dry for a day or two in preparation for being laminated. The clear glass bead is laid up, and both sides of the fin are glassed with two layers of six ounce cloth, and later hot coated with sanding resin. More hand-sanding is done in preparation to be glassed onto the surfboard. Sounds easier than it really is, and a little messy too.
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©2002 ChuckBassett.com | chuck@chuckbassett.com | Last Update:Sumer/Fall 2009
