Double Duty

Posted on January 11, 2018 by nealdude85

Frank Quirarte photographs the world’s heaviest wave and save lives in the process

By Neal Kearney

Frank Quirarte is not your average surf photographer. Instead of standing on the beach with a tripod, clicking away, his craft involves documenting Mavericks, one of the world’s heaviest waves, astride a Jetski—where he snaps photos and, when needed, uses his bravado and horsepower to assist in rescuing surfers in peril. The Pacifica-raised photographer has made a name for himself with this gutsy act. Twenty years ago, he forged a friendship with Mav’s pioneer Jeff Clark, who let him shoot photos from the channel in Clark’s inflatable Zodiac. Over time he became proficient behind the lens under the tutelage of established photographers such as Don Montgomery, Vern Fisher, and Doug Acton, gaining acclaim for capturing stunning images as well as for his lifesaving skills as a member of the Maverick’s Water Patrol.

“We didn’t have any safety out there back in the day,” says longtime Mavs charger Peter Mel. “Frank was one of the first guys to bring that safety aspect to Mavericks. He had the balls to get in the zone and get people out of harm’s way. The fact that he gets some amazing photos along the way is awesome. We’re lucky to have guys like Frank out there looking out for us.” Waves caught up with Quirarte to find out how he pulls off this impressive two-pronged gig.

Fearless Frank rushing into the belly of the beast for a much appreciated rescue

What is the most difficult part of shooting photos from aboard a jet ski?

It’s all very calculated—physically, mentally and technically. With experience I’ve learned to be in the right spot at the right time, taking into consideration all the hazards involved. Aspiring photographers show up out there with the most expensive equipment and top-of-the-line PWCs thinking they’re going to get the shot. They realize very quickly that that’s never the case. You need to be able to survive in a very harsh environment. The line-ups are so crowded with boats and skis these days [that] just getting an image without a boat or another ski in it is almost impossible. You have to get really creative and try to avoid getting run over or sprayed.

The late, great Jay Moriarity and Ken Collins sharing a smile between sets.

How do you manage to shoot photos and be prepared to go in for a rescue at the same time?

Timing wise it’s pretty simple. Most wipeouts take a few seconds to happen. That leaves you plenty of time to shoot the shot, stow your camera, and then set up for the rescue. I have it dialed. I have a little nest in the forward compartment of my ski. I open up the hatch, basically just drop the camera in, and then go in for the rescue.

A gorgeous view of Josh Loya dropping into a bomb, as seen from the channel

What makes for a strong Mavericks shot?

You know it when it happens. Those moments looking through the lens and capturing an amazing drop or a spectacular wipeout or a gigantic wave—you know you’ve just witnessed and documented something special.

Grant “Twiggy” Baker absolutely rushing a Mav’s macker

Some people are content taking photos of flowers and rock formations. How does shooting a force of nature like Mavericks compare?

I have some friends who [have] climbed the Himalayas to get the shot—and that’s a big rock—and others who have repelled down the side of mountain to take a photo of a rare succulent. So I guess it’s all relative, right?

Assorted Burning Man Images by Frank Quirarte Photography ©

Burning Man festivities shot by Quirarte

What do you like to photograph other than Mavericks?

Just being able to get behind the lens now and make a living is always a blessing. In the age of digital photography, the pro photographer has been marginalized or wiped out. So other than weddings, I will shoot basically anything. But I still need to be challenged. Shooting big waves has created some excellent opportunities, like working on movie sets and commercials—which is always really fun. I shot the America’s Cup for ESPN and the City of San Francisco hired me to hang under the Golden Gate Bridge on safety cables to shoot images of some of their earthquake retrofits. Basically, if there’s a possibility of somebody going the emergency room, I will most likely be part of the shoot.

This photo of Flea Virostko makes me feel both excited and anxious

What makes a good photo, in general?

I like to walk away from a photo feeling something. It’s that simple. In the age of video, capturing a shot that can speak to you like that is definitely an art form.

Which photo in your portfolio are you most proud of and why is it special to you?

I have lots of favorites. If I had to choose I think it would be an image of Peter Mel I shot from the El Niño year, back in 1999. Quiksilver used it on the first Mavericks contest poster. It’s hanging in my living room. I get incredible satisfaction knowing that not only do I love the shot, but also that Pete gets to have his courageous moment captured and frozen in time.

Fearless Frank fetching a frightened friend in the belly of the beast

(This article was first published in Santa Cruz Waves)

The Surfing Historian…Matt Warshaw

Posted on May 8, 2015 by nealdude85

A scholarly man, a library, and a cat. Smells like History to me.

Historians have a pretty damn hard job. They have to sift through documents, journals, periodicals, legends, and myths; working like detectives to present a fair and balanced account of the past. Now picture this…a SURFING historian? Surfing history is chalk full of zany characters, unbelievable antics, and monumental sessions.. Before webcasts, Go Pro’s, and RED cameras, there wasn’t much to rely on for information but first-hand accounts, grainy footage, hearsay, whispers and mutterings. How in God’s name could someone compile all these stories and watershed moments in surfing history, especially considering all the swollen egos, bitter rivalries, and hazy memories of surfers who’ve bounced off the reef a few too many times or voluntarily fried their brains?

It’s a tough gig, but luckily for us we have a special individual devoted to decoding our surfing heritage, Mr. Matt Warshaw. Warshaw has tasked himself with compiling surfing history into an online database, The Encyclopedia of Surfing.

From the Air-Drop, to Captain Good Vibes, Warshaw has toiled endlessly to allow the public a peek into everything surfing. As a fellow historian and surf scribe, I find this dedication and bounty of knowledge nothing short of amazing. Well, today is Matt’s birthday, so I thought of no better time to let him tell his story, and explain what compelled him to take on such a monumental task…

Early days with fellow surf rat, Jay Adams. Photo Booth fun 1971

Can you tell me briefly how you were introduced to surfing? Did you ever compete, or was it strictly a passion?

My uncle pushed my brother and me across our swimming pool on his huge Hansen surfboard. This was in Tarzana, California, probably 1965. Uncle Dan was coolest person I knew, I already loved the water, so the hook was set. We just had to get out of the Valley, which we did a couple years later when my family moved to Venice. I got my first board in 1969.

Oh yeah, he shreds

I know that editing a magazine can be a tiresome and thankless job at times. It must have also been a thrill to have access to so many colorful characters…How would you describe your tenure at the helm of Surfer Magazine?

There was this long and amazing series of lucky breaks that helped get me to the editor’s chair. Just one thing after the other. On the other hand, I’m driven and ambitious and scheming, and made a lot of things happen as well. I was at SURFER for six years, and only in the last year or so, maybe the last 18 months, did I do anything that I’m proud of. Before that it was me learning the ropes in public, and most of what I did—my own writing anyway—I’m really deeply embarrassed about.

Another thing I remember was, when I got to SURFER, in 1985, everyone on staff was still using typewriters. I was the first person in the building to get a word processor, I think it was 1986. The year after that we all got word processors, and the art director got some primitive designing software, and some of the issues from the late ‘80s have this horrible sort of Nintendo-y design look.

On the plus side, I got to work with Derek Hynd, Jeff Divine, Matt George, Warren Bolster, Steve Pezman, Paul Holmes, and lots of other really talented people. I was only actually editor for maybe six months, but that position set up everything that followed in my work life. I’m really proud and honored to be a SURFER guy.

After Surfer, what was next on your agenda? Did you continue to freelance, or did you look at other avenues outside the realm of surfing to make ends meet?

After SURFER I went to UC Berkeley to finish college, and I funded that by selling my house in San Clemente and by sponging off my family. I did a bit of freelancing too. Actually I got some good assignments. I did a short piece for Esquire, and a couple things for Interview. Again, all those doors opened because of my skillful playing of the SURFER card.

Warshaw and vestiges of the past

I’m sure that as Editor at Surfer you established ties with countless extraordinarily interesting cats…did these personalities and their stories compel you to start the Encyclopedia of Surfing–a sort of time capsule to bring all the legends and monumental events to the public in a familiar (Encyclopedia) and digestible format?

After college I mostly did articles for Surfer’s Journal and SURFER, then did a couple of books. One morning I made some random comment to my dad about knowing more about surfing than anybody in the world, and he said “So write an encyclopedia,” and a half-million words later it was done. The making of EOS is too boring to get into, but I’ll just say that I spent all of 2000 doing data entry prior to actually starting on the book. The whole year, loading up a Filemaker Pro database. You can’t spin that into anything gonzo. It’s drudgery, plain and simple.

What surfer doesn’t relish the tube. Matt, tucked in all cozy like

Expanding on the last question, was there any “Eureka!” moment when you realized the importance of saving these stories and compiling them for public consumption?

No, never. None of this ever seemed important in any kind of good-for-the-world sense. It gives me something to do. It makes use of this ridiculous among of very particular information I’ve got stored in my head and my various hard drives. I love the work. To a fault, almost. I wake up and can’t wait to start working. But never have I kidded myself into thinking that it’s important. It’s nice that I’ve been able to organize and archive and present the sport in some way. It is useful. Some of it is entertaining. But your surfing experience, my surfing experience—nobody’s surfing experience is affected by it.

The book that started it all

How do you go about gathering information for your EOS entries? There are so many legends, showdowns/rivalries, design breakthrough, and epic stories to document–it must be a bit overwhelming!!

EOS will never be complete, and will never be finished. It’s a permanent work in progress. I knew that from the minute I started the book version, and 15 years later this remains the greatest comfort. I’m actually not overwhelmed. I do have a responsibility to surf history, but at some level what I do, what any historian or archivist does, is arbitrary. Especially with the website, where I need photos and video. There are entries in the book that aren’t on the website because I don’t have photos. There are huge holes on EOS. All I can do is post pages when they’re ready. And meanwhile fix all the typos, and update John John Florence’s page every month, and clown around endlessly on social media to try and get people to my site.

Surfers can have some pretty inflated egos…how do you deal with rejection and or avoidance while contacting sources for information? Has anyone called you out for something you’ve written about them? Also, have you ever had anyone call you out for not including them and their exploits/contributions in the EOS?

EOS is a 501c3 non-profit organization, and the entire “company” is me, working in my guest room for less money than I made as a surf shop clerk in 1983. When people call me out for whatever—it doesn’t happen that often, maybe once or twice a month—I throw my hands up and play the little man card. I can only do so much. I’ll get there when I can. Thanks for the patience. Which isn’t bullshit. But it’s also a way to deflect.

Howdy!

This must be a tough one to answer, but what has been the most enjoyable entry for you to include in the EOS thus far?

No single entry stands out. But what’s surprised me is much I enjoy flogging the site on Facebook and Twitter, and doing the EOS blog posts. I was late to social media, and was dragged there in chains, but once I signed on I really loved it. When I’m doing something for publication, a book or an article, I write the shit out of it, draft after draft after draft. Writing for the web has loosened me up. My writing is better for it. I’m learning from guys who are better at it than I am. I love my job because, even though I’ve been doing it for 30-something years, in one form or the other, I really seriously feel like I’m just now getting the hang of it.

Follow Matt on instagram- encyclopedia_of_surfing and be sure to check out www.encyclopdiaofsurfing.com

Board Talk…with Derek Hynd

Posted on April 20, 2015 by nealdude85

Hynd-www.jamiebrisick.com

I’ve always looked up to surfing’s more quirky characters, guys who don’t give a fuck about what’s “in”, “hip”, or “trendy”—they march to the beat of their own, at times, off tempo drums. Dora, Curren, “Barney” Barron, Tashnick…they are out there, and most don’t get the credit they deserve. Surfing is about yourself, your board, and the ocean, and whatever you decide to do from there is how you define your art style. However cliché it sounds, surfing truly is, and will always be an art form. From the way you paddle, the equipment you ride, and the lines you draw, everyone is unique. It’s no secret that surf media and the big brands try to dictate what you, as an individual should be wearing and riding, but the more you break free from this soulless homogenization, the more you can get out of your personal surfing experience.

In the “Bay” Photo-Steve Sherman

Enter Derek Hynd. One time professional surfer. Ruthless, raunchy, yet brilliant surf journalist. And for over the past two decades, Hynd has been pushing the boundaries of finless surfing, without giving a fuck about what popular surf culture says he should be riding. How does someone maintain control on a twelve-foot face freight trainer at Jeffrey’s Bay without the stabilization of fins? Well, Hynd has found a way, and boy does fly! His talent on asymmetrical, finless surfboards is indisputable, as evident in surf films such as Litmus and Glass Love. How does he do it? He’s been quoted as saying, “Finless is taking the fucking fins out of a board and spinning around aimlessly”. Sounds simple enough, but if you ask your average “Channel Islands” pro model sheep to get close to what Hynd is doing, the results would be comical.

Yet, there is a method to his madness, and lately he’s been neck deep in foam experimenting with radical board designs that will allow him to push the envelope even further. I contacted Hynd to get a brief insight into some design elements that he considers when shaping a board that will boogie. In my email I mentioned I was “just reaching out”. His reply was, “Ok, I’ll do it if you promise NEVER AGAIN to say ‘reaching out’. Put that in your blog”. Fucking all-time…

Not afraid of a bit of length…Jeffrey’s Bay

Length – it all has to do with the relative straightness of rail in the middle – 3’6″ to 11’4″ – at least that’s my interpretation. I found that one out when I cupped the front and back off a board.

This is what you call “trim” Photo-Steve Sherman

Concave – Important to have it at a spot on the board that isn’t going to suck it onto the face. It’s got to contribute the other way to ‘lift’ when in trim.

Symmetry – Unnecessary if the board is contoured to work based on different approached forehand to backhand. Can apply to fin sizings and positions or plain shapes or rail volumes.

Volume – Horses for courses but paddling / entry speed is key for me, so I prefer volume up front.

Playing with the rail in Chile. Photo-O’Brien

Rail – I think taper of rail is more important than overall shape of rail. There are two schools of thought re free friction – soft wrap rail v hard edge rail. The one sticks to the wall and is slower but holds in the pit. The other is edgy allowing release onto the flats…so that to get pitted you’ve got to come from behind the section in a drive. I’m with the edge for what it’s worth.

Maybe the main thing overall is application. None of this hipster neo soul bullshit of kiddie fiddling with a bunch of designs. Stick to the one – and work on it for as long as it takes. That’s where the evolution comes from.