Carve Magazine issue 213 Edição anterior

"They all do the same, only their names change honey. You can join their club if you're born in to money." Sam Fender, Hypersonic Missiles

It's a weird world out of the water at the moment. Fortunately when I’m Out Of Office I tend to be either in the water or out of signal and staring at the water. It wasn’t something I was particularly aware of until recently when someone said: “You still here?” It was two foot onshore and I'd been at my spot for four hours. Time just passes. I watch the waves – the way they break, the different wave patterns and fetch. The way the swell hugs sandbanks or travels down the coast.
I watch the wonder of kids who see the ocean for the first time. The joy of the groms and learners going straight on foamies in the whitewater. The fishing boats out at sea going about their work following the diving birds. I look for dolphins and clues as to why one tide with little swell can change a whole beach of sand.
I wonder how the ancient Polynesians navigated the oceans by the stars, and observations of birds, ocean swells, and wind patterns; all passed down through memories and by word of mouth from generation to generation.
I wonder why tiny moments of time spent wave riding, swimming or just absorbing salt-heavy sea breezes can have such an impact on our lives? Why can we all remember our first wave, tube (if you are lucky), sunrise and sunset sessions? Or even that kinda shitty turn in two foot surf that made our day?
I think we are all connected to the ocean to various extents. And at the same time our coastal distractions disconnect us from from what goes on ‘inland’. It gives us a sense of release and perspective of what matters. Time and tide wait for no one, but our ancient connections are highly preferable to the politics and economics of 2022. And it reminds us how lucky we are just collecting memories in a mad world.

Steve
Editor