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Paradise
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 e had this idea,.. that the small, but growing numbers of girls who surf, would want a place of their own, to share surf adventures, ask learning tips, trade complaints, and swap recipes. (hah). So far we've got a long story, and a short story. Soon ther'll be more. So let us know; what interests you, bothers you, sweats you or dries you out. We'll use your pix, drawings,anything that says what you feel. You can add your name or make one up. Free swag for the first ten submissions. Doit.
short story
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" There was this time" I was stoned at like 5:30AM, in Manual Antonio, Costa Rica looking for this waterfall with my camera and my walkman jamming out to Division Bell, Pink Floyd. I was sort of having to climb the mountain cause it was very steep. There were three brown horses behind a woodenfence. Gold rays of light pierced from their silted figures, hibiscus plants and grass were wet with morning dew. I had surfed everyday, all day, for like a month now. I was in a very different head space. Everything was perfect. Life was all about beauty and flow. That was until three ferocious, two foot tall, foaming at the mouth Costa Rican mutts came charging at my shins, snapping. My walkman was so loud that they were on me before I could react. I ran and rolled down the mountain. My disposable camera did more damage to my body than the rocks that I was rolling down. I lost a sneaker at one point and had to fight some mud that was sucking it down like quicksand would. I got my shoe and the dogs gave up. I got myself together and made a wrong turn that put me face to face with a monster black bull. I quickly about faced and tried to get my heart to start beating at a healthier pace.

It was in the summer of 1995. I was traveling alone for three months on limited funds so the bus was my way of travel. I was heading to Dominical so I had to take the bus from Manuel Antonio to Dominical. When I got on the bus my cuts were still bleeding. My backpack was stuffed to the core due to my last minute decision to bail. My Jeff Haney Fun Shape that said, He Lives on the nose (that I scored for $200 in Cocoa Beach) was stashed under the bus. Some of the guys that I had met there took the bus to Quepos with me. They were locals on the way to work. Well- my shampoo bottle fell out of my bag and poured all over the floor.. Those local guys got all stoked and scraped the stuff off of the floor and put it in each other's hair. It had been raining, so their hair sudsed up real quick. I had a guy take our picture. I had smoked another joint before getting on the bus so you could imagine my whole morning was very surreal and intense. I made it to Dominical at almost dark, stoked but didn't surf that day. Stayed with a friend of mine Billy Desmond, a Miami boy that I knew from Florida State. He was the manager of Roca Verde, the town bar. He lived in a beautiful wooden home on stilts high in the mountains. It was missing a wall so you were pretty connected with all the nature. The animals talked loud all night. I was blessed with fun waves the next morning. We traveled to the beach by motorcycle.

When I think of those days I gotta giggle a little I don't care if you put my name, the picture, or not. The pot stuff is and always will be part of our culture and I know that also might not be the "right thing to be mentioning but It was a time in my life that I am proud of. If you want to censor it no worries its just my honest story.
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A Reason To Get Up For Dawn Patrol
Its 5:47 am and my alarm clock is wailing, reminding me that its time for dawn patrol. Unwillingly, I open my eyes and groan as they focus on the red, blaring numbers on the clock. Another groan, as my eyes move past the clock to the empty Red Stripe bottle on my night stand. This groan, however, is cut short when my eyes finally focus beyond the beer bottle, on my 6'2 double-bump swallowtail calling to me from the corner of my bedroom. I roll out of bed, suddenly energized by the thought of waves. SPF 30, check. Bikini, check. I stick my head out the window to check the wind, and happen to see Dave Begley scurrying down the street. "Davo! How big?" I yell, much to dismay of my neighbors. "Waist to chest, girl. Get your ass moving!" he replies. I tie up my long curls, grab my stick, and slip outside. After stashing the housekey, I scramble down the stairs and outside, just me, my stick, and a chunk of wax. I jog towards South Pointe, dodging broken glass and unconcious bums. I hop the coral wall, and make eye contact with another surfer who has just done the same. With no words, we begin to race to the beach. I beat him to the sand, just barely. We are both stopped short. The line-up is packed, but the waves aren't all that great. Waist to chest, sure, but mushy and closing out. I pick up a discarded bottle and a newspaper off the sand and shake my head as I drop them into the garbage bin just a few feet away from where someone had left them. Finally, I get down to the shore line, and stretch. It a beautiful day, and the sun is a bowl of butter floating above the horizon. I paddle out, subconciously checking for other chicks in the water. I don't see any, but see quite a few guys I know. My back is stiff, and it takes me a while to decide where I want to sit. Finally, I take off on a mushy, chest high wave. I hear hoots and sirens from the line-up, and it makes me smile. I can only turn twice before the wave closes out, then paddle back out. As I reach the outside, another wave comes rolling through, and I am in perfect postion. I turn , paddle, and pop up. I immediately notice the Brazilian guy who has just dropped in on me. He is looking over his shoulder, leering at me. Not to mention he is trying to surf the worst part of the wave. I come close to running him over twice, and finally get close enough to shove him off his board with both hands. Once I kick out, I'm looking for him, expecting the trouble. Sure enough, he paddles back out, red-faced and completely mortified. I know he is thinking he has to save face somehow. I just hope he realizes today is not the day. And I am not the one. Of course, he doesn't. A stream of expletives erupts from him, including a long, run-on sentence about how his board is dinged now and I have to fix it. I float patiently, a smug smile on my face, waiting for him to quiet down. Then I tell him, "We can solve it on the sand." He looks at me like I'm crazy. "You mean you want to fight me?" he asks. I laugh. "Oh, I don't want to fight you, though I bet I could do some damage. No, I won't even get a chance to get near you. But they will." I nod towards the 3 guys who have paddled up behind him, waiting for him to make a wrong move. Shaking my head, I try to let him off easy. " Look, you dropped in, now its time to get out. Leave now, and I can get them to leave you alone." He shrugs, and paddles in. I wink at the guys, and flip Tony G off his long board. "Thanks boys," I say grinning. It feels nice, knowing that I grew up here, and so many of these men watched me go from grom to grown. And knowing that no matter what happens in the line-up, someone always has my back. Oh, and I heard later that the Brazilian guy got tripped by someone in the parking lot and left with both his knees bleeding. Moral of this story: You don't have to be an amazing surfer. Just a local one.
Why its important to play safe
Two weeks ago I was bodyboarding at South Beach (as usual). It was saturday morning and the waves were good and fun (4 to 5 feet). I arrived with my husband around 8 am and had to stay up to 11 am (unfortunately).My surf session was interrupted by an "out of control surfer" who came out of nowhere and hit my back with his surfboard. I tell you, you don't want to suffer an accident like that.

At first I could not breath but I was lucky cause my husband helped me to go out of the water and took me to hospital.There I was told (after several X rays) that I had 4 broken ribs and that I won't be able to do any kind of exercise for two months (that means no surfing, no running, no swimming, no yoga, no stretching, no nothing). Eventhough I am far from being a pro, I've been bodyboarding for 6 years and I know the basic rules so to have a "healthy and respectful" surfing session.I do not know also if the guy that fell on me was learning or not, the only thing I remember is that he was pretty scared and that he told me he lost control of his board.

Don't get me wrong, I know accidents happen to anybody and that guy was really nice after all: he apologized to me several times and that is enough for me. I do not need more.The only thing I want to tell you (if you read these lines) is that every sport has its rules and here in Miami surfing and bodyboarding has a lot of fans. We all have the right to enjoy it but we have to respect it no matter if we are men or women, surfers, longboarders, bodyboarders or bodysurfers.Let's be more cautious and respectful of the others so not to interrupt their dreams.

Have a safe and happy surfing session,
Go bodyboarders!!
SHE shapes
KIKI's Very Short Surf Story
Sylvia has other things to do,.. like teach high school, and be a mom, and wife, and in between try to find some waves. (she tunes in surfmaimi,constantly) but in her "spare" time, she builds surfboards. "I've made 13, and already sold 6." Her interest in surfing started at age 13 when her History teacher gave her an old board, and she had to fix a few dings. "Our shop teacher bought a few blanks and gave one to me. It was a joke,..I used latex wall paint on it, and it delaminated immediately. But from there, the learning curve was sharp." "I shaped my first one by hand, with sandpaper. I was a little afraid of the power planer. I used training videos and books to help me along the way... after about 5 or 6 boards, I started doing bottom concaves, trick tuning shapes. A great resource is swaylocks.com, a pro-shaper's site. You can ask any question and all these pro-shapers will answer." We asked her what it was like to be a girl in the water, trying to get her surfing chops together. "Most guys are pretty nice, even if some of the younger ones look at you like - what are you doing here - basically they're friendly, and harder on each other. I just wish the other surf chicks would communicate with each other out in the water. It'd be great if we had a little of each other's support. Reach Sylvia about building you a board at spazstix12@aol.com
I STARTED SURFING NOT TOO LONG AGO. I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW SURFING EXISTED UNTIL A COUPLE OF YEARS AGO. BEING RAISED ON THE BEACH AND ALL, I DIDN'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT SURFING. I GUESS I WAS TOO INTO FITTING IN WITH THE "COOL" PEOPLE. I STARTED GOING TO A SUMMER CAMP WHERER I MET A COACH WHO CHANGED ME. I DID A 360 DEGREE CHANGE. GOING FROM TALKING GHETTO, HAVING AN ATTITUDE, AND ALL THAT IS INVOLVED WTIH THINKING BAD. I WENT TO DRESSING WITH ROXY, LEARNING ABOUT SURFING, AND LEARNING HOW TO SURF. THE FIRST TIME I GOT IN THE WATER WITH A BOARD I WAS EXCITED. AS I TOOK MY FIRST WAVE AND MY FIRST WIPE OUT I KNEW SURFING WAS FOR ME. IT WAS AN AMAZING RUSH AND I DIDNT WANT TO STOP! I BECAME ADDICTED. IT WAS SO MUCH FUN THAT I WANTED TO SURF EVERYDAY AND GET BETTER. THE ONLY PROBLEM WAS GETTING MY OWN BOARD...BOARDS ARE SO DAMN EXPENSIVE THAT I THINK I'M NEVER GOING TO GET MY OWN BECAUSE I'M ONLY A HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT WITH OUT A JOB AND HAVING TO SAVE AROUND $500 ITS HARD! BUT NO MATTER WHAT, I KNOW THAT SURFING IS NOW A BIG PART OF MY LIFE AND IT WILL ALWAYS BE.
(from a viewer)............when I do have some stories to tell that I think might be interesting, I will definitely pass them along. Until then, I do appreciate your looking to improve the Surfchix site, and have attached a painting I made, but that's about all I can provide right now that I think won't bore your readers. Keep up the good work, though; the site has the potential to be pretty cool.