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ABOUT THE FILM
"Going With The Flow: Surfing Costa Rica's Breaks" started with several phone calls and emails of the idea to cast members from the first Going With The Flow film, "Going With The Flow: Classic California Soul Surfing". This included Kevin "Magic Feet" Connelly and Jesse "Trimm" Timm. An email was also sent out to surfer/screenwriter/author Allan "The Sage" Weisbecker to let him know we'll be coming to Pavones where he lived during our production since it was going to be one of our destinations. Allan's vibe would be the perfect element to make the film stand out. The production schedule would start the trip up north in Tamarindo and finish down south in Pavones. A little over two weeks of shooting, surfing, fun, adventure and most importantly, going with the flow.
Jesse upon receiving the news quickly began shaping a new board he would ride in the film, a 10 foot classic style, reverse rocker, heavy, pin tailed longboard. Kevin having just returned from shaping in Japan also had a new board made just for our trip, a 6'5" single fin, 70's style shortboard. The shape, originally designed by Gerry Lopez/YU (Japanese Shaping Legend) and ridden by the Pipe Master on O'ahu's North Shore during his reigning years was now going be to utilized in one of Central America's richest wave zones. Since Kevin's wave sliding mastery is best demonstrated on a longboard he was also bringing his trusty 9'8", a refined noseriding machine with a totally scooped out bottom deck.
During the preproduction Jesse contacted Robert August, who spends time in the Tamarindo area of Costa Rica, and asked if he'd be interested in hooking up with our group. Robert agreed as long as we were in town when he was. Prior to Jesse's conversation with Robert the trip was all planned out, booked, reserved and paid in full. After his phone conversation with Robert, Jesse calls and lays it on me, "The man will be in town during the part of our trip when we're scheduled to be in down south in Pavones." I start going nuts. ROBERT AUGUST, THE MAN, will not be in town when we're there. It's not like we can pack up and drive from Pavones to Tamarindo in a matter of minutes, it's more like days! In moments like that where I think of one thing, go with the flow. So after many phone calls and emails throughout several days, the trip is aligned with Robert's schedule of being in Tamarindo. Keith Novosel a photographer/surfer from St. Augustine, Florida and now residing in Malibu, California seen my past films and wanted to contribute his talent and be a part of the going with the flow experience. Keith contacted me and after several emails and more phone calls he was a part of the stoked crew!
Everything was lined up a month out from our first day of shooting. Kevin agreed to be in the film and as time neared to make it all happen all communication from him was all tumble weeds and crickets chirping for two weeks. Kevin is well known as being very enigmatic. He is one of the best people while on a surf trip, always joking, laughing, philosophizing, and his surfing is bar none. Getting a hold of Kevin is another story. After sweating for several weeks Magic Feet calls and says, "What, you thought I wasn't going to COSTA RICA!?" After two weeks of sweaty nights wondering if the surfing duo of Connelly and Timm would actually happen the group came together and the timing was as good as it gets. Keith and I drove down from our respective locales in Florida to Miami to fly into San Jose, Costa Rica a day before Kevin and Jesse's arrival. The next day the guys arrived a couple hours late due to bad weather and once packed were off on our eight hour trek south to Pavones, our first destination.
Kevin had been in Costa Rica before so it wasn't as unfamiliar as it was for Jesse being his first time in the country. The drive took us through some beautiful mountain roads, lush rain forest, over and through muddy rivers, and by some of Central America's best beaches. When we arrived into Pavones our original home base was to be a highly recommended lodge, La Ponderosa. Upon arrival at the lodges closed gate I honked and a woman appears speaking English. I introduce myself and she says, "You're early!" I'm thinking to myself, what thirty minutes, an hour? She continues, "I have you guys booked from tomorrow." There we were, eight hours on some of the worst roads in Costa Rica and all together lack off, sore, hungry and ready to unpack, eat then sleep only to be greeted with closed arms. After all this careful planning, getting everything switched, calculated and what not, our almost fine host doesn't have our rooms. I then remembered how this same person couldn't get things as they should during my time of setting up our reservations. With a bitter sweet taste in my mouth she says, "Come back tomorrow and we'll have your rooms for you". No suggestions, no let me help you guys find a place to stay tonight IN THE MIDDLE OF THE JUNGLE AT NIGHT, nothing. So much for a warm welcome. We went with the flow.
Off we drove into the night. Everybody in disbelief of our misfortune and low and behold out of the night comes a light, La Pina. The small local Tico (Costa Rican) ran establishment not only had a small room for us, ALL our equipment, but also served good food! Going with the flow was all good.
We woke to the smell of fresh brewed Costa Rican Coffee, some of the best in the world, being brought to our little jungle house. The smiling Tica (female Costa Rican) carrying the tray with coffee, mugs, sugar and a jug of milk. She asked if we wanted this everyday, we all looked at each grinning then answered with a simultaneous, si (yes). Things were looking up.
When we arrived to the break at Pavones it looked like a fantastic surf painting. Super long waves swung wide and peeled down the palm lined coast. The heat coming off the dark sand and cobblestone beach filled with river detritus of balsa logs and branches created a surfing mirage. Jesse was eager to stylishly taste the famed lefts which are some of the longest in the world while Kevin was eager to switch foot, spin and hang ten on the amazing peelers. With every wave Kevin and Jesse rode onlookers stopped, admired, shook heads in disbelief and asked me who they were. After the show was over I was amazed at the level of longboarding both of them displayed. At the end of the day the guys heads were spinning from not only the great rides but also the hot tropical sun.
Back at La Pina dinner was served, devoured and then some local dessert was served up, Spanish karaoke. Jesse always laid back quickly passed the mic to Kevin. Magic Feet being one to put himself out there, snatched the mic and gave his best Enrique imitation, belting out tune after tune in his best and at the same time worst Spanish. All the entertainment was fueled by Costa Rica's liquid courage - Cerveza Imperial. The next day was an almost carbon copy of the previous day except for the first casualty of the trip, a giant ding on the tail of Kevin's Longboard. The fun, long waves, people watching in amazement of both Kevin and Jesse's skills, quirky locals, traveling surfers, good food and then a search for local adventure was persistent.
The Tiskita Lodge, a nature preserve giving daily jungle tours and lodge provided exactly the adventure which was desired. Clyde the owners 18 year old son, came out to welcome us with his friendly smile and good vibe. He educated the group with his profound knowledge of the jungle and all of its coexistence. Like most Costa Rican's, Clyde is well educated. In his case from a Canadian University. After his studies he decided to come back to his jungle home and help his dad run the lodge, give jungle tours and surf his local breaks. He was stoked to tell us about a special visit from the great Kelly Slater who had once come to experience the lodge. Kelly was so stoked with Clyde he left him one of his personally signed Al Merrick Thrusters, which Clyde was quick to display, speaking a lot about the new bearer of the enlightened foam. After our in depth jungle tour we we're lead to a series of waterfall pools which provided a much needed cooling off for our bodies. Jesse enjoyed the small waterfalls sending cascading coolness onto his head. While Kevin got caught up in the moment shed his clothes and became jungle man, climbing the waterfalls, splashing around in the pools and doing as an impassioned in the moment transcendent man should. It was a glorious moment reminiscent of Lance Carson and the donut, something of legendary proportion. After the revitalizing cold water brought everyone to their senses Clyde shared with us his slice of serenity which was beautifully placed on the side of the mountain over looking the golden and purple Pacific. We took in the amazing vista, drank some brews, watched vultures ride the thermals of the engulfing weather, heard stories of epic waves near and far all while the jungles rhythms continued and allowed a rain storm to wash away the day.
Not everyday in the jungle is it sunny. The ecosystem requires a perfect balance with rain and grey conditions in similar amounts to sunshine. One such gloomy dawn together with the slight on shores kept us at our little jungle house longer than usual. We drank coffee and ate the best banana bread we acquired the previous night from the Tiskita Lodge, once again flaring props to Clyde and the Tiskita family. By the time we arrived at the break the waves weren't as nice as they were for the past several days, but regardless required a go out. After the mediocre session we drove up to the cantina for a bite to eat. Low and behold who do we see doing the post session shower off at the side of the eatery, Allan Weisbecker. "Allan?!", stoked I yell out to confirm it's him. He walks over with a shit eating grin and is immediately being captured by our camera in Keith's hands and assaulted by a barrage of questions from our group. Shaking off all the attention, he asks if we're going to have another go out. Kevin and Jesse pumped over the chance meeting quickly put away their hunger and agree for a go at the point with the Sage.
The point provided instant sloppy fun for everyone. The waves weren't as pretty as previous sessions but no one cared. Allan was stoked to be surfing with Kevin (Kevin being one of Allan's surf hero's) and with Allan being everyone's favorite author the awe factor was heavy and took a little while to wash off. Once in the water you could see what separates the men from the boys with the wind blown conditions. Jesse continued with his stylish soul arches, backwards kick fives, Kevin with his endless noserides and Allan demonstrated his local knowledge of the break. While Kevin and Jesse continued their sliding, Allan had enough, cam in and told me we're all invited back to his house for dinner that night. Stoked!
Allan's jungle home was incredible, made primarily out of hard lumber from his property, hung from the walls were classic surfboards and memorabilia, the perfect place to be creative and a writer. Dinner was well underway when we arrived. We all shared excellent food, stories and made plans for the coming week. Allan decided to come along with us up north to Tamarindo for some much needed inspiration. This was now becoming an epic surf trip. We bid Allan a good night and promised we'd see him the next day to lead our caravan.
Our last day in the legendary Pavones found Kevin and Jesse out at the main point. The spot which usually has over a hundred people in the line up on a good swell today showed about a dozen. The small swell kept the crowds away and allowed the guys to get some fast zippy waves for their final surf session in the Southern Zone. Having some business to handle before we left Pavones on our journey north Allan asked us to stop by his home around mid day at which time he'd be ready to go. All things handled the two truck convoy bobbed and weaved northward. The short ferry ride across one of the rivers was uneventful until we arrived on the opposite shore. A semi truck with a long trailer was parked and waiting to drive aboard the short length ferry. As we all stood there watching to see the chaos ensue, the truck drove on uneventfully. No sudden collapse or sinking took place. Unamused we drove on. Approaching one of the main roads out from Pavones leading to our next destination, Dominical, Allan's truck began to sound and feel rather sickly, sputtering and spewing smoke. The '90's model Ford Explorer wasn't going to make the journey with us after all. Adventure in order to be must contain misadventure. As luck would have it a auto repair shop was nearby. After a long conversation with the mechanico (grease monkey) all of us packed up into our little KIA and headed into the sunset with Allan's truck never to be seen again. Upon arrival into Dominical darkness had prevailed. We were unbelievably cramped from the bumpy ride with five dudes in close proximity with bags stacked on top and surfboards pilled high. Eats and sleep were necessary. The closest place to stay was a hostel. Allan being the distinguished gentleman he is had no issues staying in our humble environment. The local restaurant, Tortilla Flats, fed us and the luckily empty hostel housed all five in separate rooms providing some much needed elbow room.
The morning brought sunny sky's with the tropical clouds painted over the horizon. Dominical known for it's pounding beach breaks was doing it's thing. Since we had a long journey ahead of us we opted not to unpack boards but rather go on. Allan called around and found the nearest car rental was in Quepos, some two hours away. Once again Kevin Tetrisized our luggage into the back of the truck, the mountain high stack of board bags were secured, and the next stage in the gauntlet would be the hell road from Dominical to Quepos.
As the date palm grooves raced by in perfect symmetry the dirt road led into a cowboy western looking town with a good amount of construction happening on the roads, buildings and what not. The hunger got the best of us and a little mall smack dab in the middle of the town offered nourishment for our road weary adventurers. After full bellies we found the rental car location Allan called earlier and his truck was secured and the trip flowed on. The drive took us by Jaco, which since my first trip to Costa Rica, has now turned into a very Americanized town. Subway, Pizza Hut, more surf shops than you can shake a stick at and even a traffic light on the main road. We buzzed past all the commotion and stopped by the natural tourist attraction, a long bridge over a river in the middle of a valley right out of a scene from Jurassic Park, complete with living dinosaurs. The Caiman, or Saltwater Crocs as they're known in other places of the world, float and lay below the bridge awaiting some kids beef jerky falling out of grip, the stray chicken thrown from a passing vehicle, or slap happy tour guides flailing meat to make sure their customers spread the word about what they'd seen. From the bridge masses of tourists gawk at the ancient creatures sunning below. Everyone in our group leaned over the rail to get a better view of the boat which had just arrived to feed the Caiman. From our perspective this tiny man got out of the boat walked onto the rivers bank and began slapping the ground with a chicken carcass. One of the giants swam over with an effortless stroke of it's tail and climbed out of the water dwarfing the feeder. It lunged forward grabbing the meal and caused the man to rush backwards. With the action peaking Allan said, "Let's go surfing."
We swiftly made our way north hoping to bed down in the little town of Boca Barranca and maybe score an evening session. As we pulled away from the Croc Bridge the truck Kevin and Jesse were in was stopped for the first time by a Costa Rican Cop or Fuerza Nacional (National Force). For those who don't know, Costa Rica doesn't have an army just police. They're basically the Switzerland of Central America. The Cop asked to see our papers which we had, except they were buried somewhere in our bags deep among our intricately placed luggage. The Cop offered us a choice of looking for the papers or simply paying $40 US so we can get on our way. We chose the later since daylight was more precious then some paper with pictures on it. It had been several years since my last visit to Boca Barranca, I was shocked at the drastic changes. The barrio which stood sentinel over the long river mouth break was no longer there. We later found out a fire had ravaged the barrio which caused it to be all torn down. This may not be such a bad thing since every surfer parking in the area would have their vehicle ran sacked while out surfing a mile in the ocean or even worse. I remember during one such trip when a gun fight broke out on the beach. No one was hurt but it sure left a mark on the old memory banks. In the absence of the barrio a proposed gringo condo development is now scheduled.
We pulled up to the end of the road in front of the break and saw Barranca in unclassic form. Small, crumbly lines filled the horizon. The road was bumpy and grimy. No one seemed to care how the surf looked and began to unpack their boards for an evening go out. As most of Costa Rica's Pacific Coast, Barranca is subject to extreme tides ranging around fifteen feet. As Allan, Kevin and Jesse waxed up the tide did switch up enough to provide some insanely long rides. Not the prettiest of lines but with the skill of our surfers the wave proved worthy. At one point the overcast skies parted and golden beams of light illuminated the surroundings. The evening colors blended with the skyward drifting smoke from the burning beach debris together with the industrialized background of buildings, cranes and civilization caused the crews exit from the water to resemble some apocalyptic scene.
Just down the dirt road from the break sits the Surf Inn which is ran by a super cool Tico couple. There we made our lodging for the night. The Tico couple invited us in and to our luck we were the only visitors that night. The rooms were clean, had AC, which to this point we didn't have except in our truck, and satellite TV! This was the most civilized place we'd stayed at up to this point. The dinner the couple made was fit for a king. Shortly after, and some of us during the meal were collapsing from exhaustion.
Eager to surf the river mouth one more time before we left in the morning the guys ate breakfast, warmed up and gave it another go. The morning was amazing in it's natural beauty. The waves were smaller but seemed to line up better then the prior evening. One by one Allan, Kevin and Jesse amazed, inspired and caused the locals to imitate their every move with a fraction of the polished grace and style exuded by our cohorts. Smiles were all around as the guys chatted up the locals in the line up sharing waves and a positive vibe. As the tide switched and changed the break for the worst when Allan sounded, "Never drive away from a good swell and so we went with the flow". The road beckoned us to our final surf destination, Tamarindo.
The road took us once again through some beautiful countryside, mountains and over rivers. A quick stop at a gas station to replenish food and beverages for us and our vehicles found us parked along side a tourist bus packed with young Ticos and Ticas partying it up on the way to where ever. With a bit of horn blowing, festive singing and hooting the merry makers sent us off in high spirits. Bumpy doesn't describe the road conditions we encountered along the way. This had to be hell road number two. Once at the out skirts of Tamarindo things already didn't look the same from my past visit almost ten years prior. Both Allan and Kevin having been here before were dumbfounded at the sights as we came into town. What was once a nice and sleepy, fairly uncrowded town was now a major tourist destination. With places like Best Western, Burger King, Condos stacked upon Condos, people walking around, surfing everywhere, beach umbrellas and also an area where even the most hardened drug addict can find their fix. This was not what we had wanted especially after our week long stint in paradise. Our lodging for this leg of the trip was acquired through the local ReMax Ocean Surf Realty Office. Lisa Simmonns was extremely friendly, helpful and secured a great house for us to stay in with all the amenities including the ever precious AC and this time a swimming pool. The house was just outside of town which made everyone exhale since it was far enough away from the commotion, hustle and bustle of Tamarindo. We pulled up to the Casa Blanca. Our very own White House. It all seemed very appropriate with the order of events to be in relative luxury at this stage in the trip. As arranged prior to our arrival, Jesse used Allan's cell and worked on contacting Robert August to no avail allowing only a message to be left. Once again having driven so far and being covered in road grime everyone grabbed their boards and headed off to reenergize in Mother Ocean's evening glow.
Our first full day in the northern reaches of Costa Rica and almost the end of the trip put everything into perspective. We had to go balls out. The morning session took us to a local beach break of Playa Grande. Allan was in the middle of writing his latest literary marvel, "Can't You Get Along With Anyone, A Writer's Memoir and a Tale of a Lost Surfer's Paradise", choose to stay behind and surf with us in the afternoon. Words of wisdom bequeathed to us by Allan throughout the trip dubbed him the nick name, The Sage. And so the Sage left us with the following as we departed, "Stay out of trouble boys. If you call me from prison, I'll know you fucked up." With Allan's words bouncing around in our heads we put the rubber to the dirt and headed out. Our arrival showed little barrels impacting up and down the beach. Kevin decided to grab his trusty 6'5" and Jesse took to his log. The waves being better suited for the smaller craft, Kevin caught barrel after barrel, while Jesse slid into several speedy waves allowing fast noserides before each waves final demise. As the sea breeze built up and the tide dropped everyone was hot and eager to catch a bit of shade and lunch.
Once back at the White House Allan took a surf break and shared some waves with the guys. Luckily for us a beach break was a three minute walk from our front gate. The break wasn't the biggest or the best but the waves were clean and the crowds weren't tough. Out of all the shooting locations throughout the trip this evening session I recalled most vividly. Both Kevin and Jesse amazed the other surfers with their fancy foot work and stylish moves. The sun dancing on the water created an ambience unique to the moment. On the beach as I filmed the heat and humidity reached maximum levels creating on my body a constant flow of sweat for thirty minutes straight. I was experiencing the Costa Rican sauna. After retiring to our luxurious jungle abode another call was put into Mr. August and again no answer and no message on Allan's cell. Better luck tomorrow we hoped in reaching the man.
Like most surf spots in well established areas reaching the break before everyone else is unlikely. One of the nearby stand out surf spots, Avellanas, is a mixture of rock outcroppings and sandbars making it a great wave when it's on. Allan, Kevin and Jesse began talking strategy before heading out. Shooting in a place such as Costa Rica can be tricky. The amount of weather experienced can cause incredible to terrible filming results. The session at Avellanas proved to be golden not just for the lighting but the waves which were surfed. Several bigger waves came through occasionally and allowed big drops and many hoots from the line up and beach goers. Allan cross stepped brilliantly. Jesse soul arched, hung ten and head dipped till his hearts content. While Kevin made bombs, impossible switch foot backwards drop ins and some of the most amazingly longest nose rides of the trip. The water color was gorgeous with a turquoise so vibrant it looked as if an emerald mine had ruptured it's riches onto the ocean before us. Having fully exhausted the best part of the tide, going balls out was working magnificently. To keep up with our bodies demand of fuel the next local pizzeria was located and food was ravaged. After filling up on grub a hasty retreat was made back to Casa Blanca at another attempt to locate Robert August. We now only had a few more days in the country and so our chance to meet up with and surf with Robert was slipping through our fingers. We checked for any possible messages from Robert and left more in high hopes and continued to go with the flow. Everyday classic surf and other stories were shared among the colorful cast in the back of our white house's covered sitting area.
Allan was hoping to visit the Arenal Volcano with us on our way back to the airport. He received urgent news which called him to leave immediately. From the news our groups over all attitude changed and everyone got bummed. It's always sad to have a good travel companion depart sooner than later. After letting the feelings drift away and remembering to go with the flow good byes were exchanged and our now good friend, Allan Weisbecker, was off on his next adventure.
Regrouping and deciding where to flow next the surf outpost of Nosara was mentioned and approved by all. The road to Nosara was longer than expected and since no one in our group had been there before it was an exploration into the unknown. Half way to Nosara Keith suggested we try a peaky beach break called Marbella. With a name translating to Beautiful Sea it called for a look. When we arrived expectations of an empty lineup proved false as we amazed at the huge crowd. It was a beautiful spot no doubt and so Kevin and Jesse went out and scored some fast drops, barrels, quick slides and nose rides before the tide did it's thing and sent us towards Nosara. Having driven through many rivers at this point little thought was given to one crossing in particular at an unsuspecting little creek. As things would have it we bogged out and our truck was stalled out in the middle. Thirty minutes later after several vehicles drove by with the drivers snapping photos of our unfortunate situation, our truck coughed, then cranked into motion.
Several hours later we arrived at a break facing west with no rideable waves in site. A group of Tico's stood under an Almond Tree, Kevin and Jesse asked what the deal was with the waves. They responded the main breaks are around the point and where we stood was a great break with the right swell angle. It clearly wasn't the right swell angle at the time. We continued on our search and did find the large expanse of beach known as Nosara. Did we find waves? Yeah, but did the guys want to take out their boards for wind blown overhead slop? No. We had driven for hours to find out their was no gold at the end of this rainbow.
Driving through town I figured we stop by a friends surf shop, Coconut Harry's, and say hello. Harry a Virginia Beach expat lives, surfs and nurtures the surfing lifestyle in this remote part of Costa Rica. He informed us the waves at Nosara are usually better in the morning, when the wind is not on it. Having driven so far and to not find the waves to reenergize us not only drained everyone's energy but had effect on our trucks gas tank. After finding the local gas station the locals carried out big jugs of local made fuel and fed our starving sled. Our way back to Tamarindo proved more challenging then expected. A misdirection took us on a scenic ride an hour out of our way and into a locals homestead. This turned out to be our most adventurous day. Thanks to the waves at Marbella, seeing Coconut Harry and the beautiful sunset during the drive back everything was in perspective.
Our final day in the Tamarindo area took us to one of the breaks made famous by the Endless Summer II, Playa Negra. Getting a late start after the beating we took the day before the sight of almost empty Negra brought new vitality. It was howling off shore with gapping barrels. Score. The wave barrelled off the reef and made for a perfect final surf session. Kevin was ripping on his shortboard and enjoyed the screamers peeling consistently near the almost exposed reef. Jesse was grinning from ear to ear with every little curling gem allowing for accurate footwork to place him in just the right spot to get the most out of the swells energy. Afterwards a nearby cantina served excellent food, fun in the form of a game of billiards and surf murals depicting the world class local break of Playa Negra being masterfully navigated by no doubt a local stylist.
The final destination of the trip was near as all good things come to a close. We packed our gear, bid farewell to our hosts at the ReMax Ocean Surf Realty Office, whom so graciously provided a great base camp from which to operate, and made our way towards the land of the volcanoes. Kevin having gotten a handle on the driving knowledge needed to smoothly navigate the country's roads, cruised through one police check point after another. With sureness radiating from all of us two cops ahead on the side of the road caused our inertia to come to an almost screeching halt. It turned out we weren't speeding or doing anything we shouldn't. The reason we were pulled over was simply the boards on our roof. The cops in Costa Rica know where there's surfers, there must be money. Kevin being the silver tongued devil quickly swayed the conversation from money to other not so expensive methods of payment. Stickers related to surfing along with my past Costa Rica Surf Film on DVD, Jungle Juice, suited these two cops just fine. With a quick surf bribe we were once again going with the flow. Our nights rest was reserved at the Arenal Lodge located after a long drive around the huge Lake Arenal. As the Arenal Volcano grew larger with every kilometer driven towards it we witnessed clouds swirling in different directions around it's base due to the variety in temperatures, building sized lava rocks being thrown into the darkening sky together with the sound of the earth giving a breathing growl with each eruption combined with an amazing display of pyroclastic flow off it's one side. As a cumulative summary of the situation at hand Kevin claimed, "We're witnessing the birth of the earth."
The Arenal Lodge was located close to the volcano allowing us an incredible view that evening as well as the next morning. The weather and humidity found in this mountainous area provides only momentary glimpses of the cone which is shrouded in clouds most of the time. A celebratory dinner was had by all with a toast for the excellent wine, food and stories which will last forever. The next morning showed just how much different the jungle here in the mountains is compared to the coastal regions we've been visiting. The thicker growth found in the mountain regions provides shelter to many known and unknown creatures. Golden Macaws squawked in nearby trees with the volcano and it's swirling clouds as a background created a moment which none of us will forget and will keep the stoke of surf travel burning forever and us going with the flow.
Words: Arsen
Brzostek After our trip was over Allan wrote an article about his experience with us which is found on his WebSite. Click here to read Allan's Story titled, "Going With The Pros". NOTE: As with any film funding is required. Most surf films are high budget productions with funding provided by surfing's corporate giants. Anyone providing funding for what is basically a commercial for themselves, the sponsor, requires some extent of creative control. Both Going With The Flow films have been produced solely through independent funding provided by myself (Arsen) and God bless her heart, my mom (Jolanta Zasadny); with the exception of Destination who provided coffin bags for this trip. During pre-production I called companies to be sponsors. No surfing company large or small wanted to dig into their pockets for cash but instead were more than eager to peddle their gear (t-shirts, hats, etc.) in exchange for exposure. I chose to keep it real and only promote the individuals who made a difference in the production such as Kevin Connelly Surfboards, Surfboards by Jesse Timm, Allan Weisbecker (one of the greatest writers of our time), Randy at Pacific Beach Surf Shop, Jolanta Realty (my mon's company), Green Dot Design (my "money making" company) and of coarse Destination. Because no one was telling me what to do or not to do with my creativity, both films are a complete expression of what I believe a surf film should be; creative, fun and experiential. All your support is appreciated and 100% goes back towards budgets for future films. If you like my films tell people. Thanks for allowing
me to live the dream, enjoy and stay stoked! |
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