The day was an awesome success with one of the biggest turnouts ever. Have a look at the link below and get behind the guys across the way in whatever way you can…

http://tinyurl.com/phghzh

A few of the Aggie boys have decided to spend a night on Bawden Rocks this Thursday to raise money for the surf club. Now for those of you not from round here, Bawden Rocks are out to sea some 2 miles off Aggie. It’s a pretty inhospitable place, occupied by TR5s gnarliest seagulls and until Monday, the boys were unsure whether there was anywhere to rest there heads (which they now know there is - just). We recc-ed the place on Monday and it’s all set for tonight.

Have a look at the facebook group - they’ll be live webcast from this evening http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=95077717356

Here is a photo of the spot mid winter (the wave is breaking over the rock they’ll be camping on - reckon its about 40m high)…

and in calmer times….

Wilco is one of Holland’s premiere action sports agents. He’s got a host of exclusive brands that he works with and we were lucky enough to have locked up with him a couple of years ago. Since then, he’s been pushing our product and has done an amazing job of finding the right retailers and people to represent us out there.

The ongoing joke in the office, is that Wilco has been with us for over two years and has tried on numerous occasions to make one of our blogs and has yet to grace the screen.

Outside his profession, he’s a painter and closet botanist, with a whole host of exotic plants that he cares for with pain staking attention.

Just this past week he had a keen eye on his Epiphyllum - (pronounced /ˌɛpɨˈfɪləm/;[1] “upon the leaf” in Greek) it is a genus of 19 species of epiphytic plants in the cactus family (Cactaceae), native to Central America. Common names for these species include orchid cacti and leaf cacti, though the latter also refers to the genus Pereskia.

The epiphyllums exotic attribute, is that it flowers a large, strongly fragrant flower, that blooms for a single night only, after four years of tending to it. He’s paid extra close attention to her for the last couple of weeks now, with a rough idea as to when she should bloom and at sometime in the wee hours of the morning last week - she bloomed.

With great excitement, he grabbed his camera and took a quick shot of something he had been looking after for over 1460 days. In some beautiful little way, Finisterre was present. Take a close look at the wall behind the flower.

Stoked with the story Wilco and congratulations on your first blog!!

Doug Anderson and a small crew from the BBC have spent the last couple of months in Antarctica, getting close and personal with the largest species in the dolphin family – the Killer Whale. The footage is up for an up and coming BBC Documentary.

Doug continues to put Finisterre product in some fairly precarious situations and when we receive images like the ones below, if fills us with ‘tried and tested’ confidence of our products and the limits to which they can be taken. Anyone who has been closer to an Orca in a Storm Track or an Etobicoke, get in touch.

Storm Track in action.

Etobicoke, dwarfed by dorsal fin.

“Let’s just drop the cameras and let this guy pass boys…”

Storm Track… hold…. hold…. hold

Storm Track

Calling all South Coasters this weekend…

If you’re around this Saturday, make your way to K-bay for about 10, board and wetsuit in hand and take part in the Gathering. In a nutshell, the MOD wants to restrict access to Broadbench (see photo below), an awesome wave in the area, so there are a load of waver riders heading that way to show there huge disapproval for this idea. Weather looking good and should be an awesome turn out to show how serious we are about such issues and the launch of the SAS POW (Protect our waves) campaign. (I think they’re some more pseudo military acronyms to follow).

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The Gathering - A Protect Our Waves Action

Surfers Against Sewage’s (SAS) new campaign Protect Our Waves (POW) is having its first action, The Gathering, and we need you to get involved! Simply turn up to Kimmeridge Bay with your wetsuit and board at 10am on Saturday the 20th of June, International Surfing Day and show the MoD how important waves are to surfers and waveriders. This is your chance to be an active part of a solution-based campaign protecting waves.

The Gathering will be a mass paddle out at Kimmeridge to demonstrate how significant and passionate the UK’s surfing and wave-riding communities are, not least local Bournemouth and Dorset surfers. Winning this campaign will set a strong precedent for protection of all waves and all waveriders’ rights to access them, so all surfers have a vested interest! The Gathering will form the foundations for the Broadbench campaign and we need the foundations to be as strong as possible. We need you to attend!

Broadbench is a quality wave in Kimmeridge Bay, described by many as one of Britain’s best. Unfortunately it falls right on the outer boundary of a MoD firing range. Obviously SAS are not asking the MoD to reduce their use of this important firing range. However, there is a compromise that will ensure surfers and waveriders can have 100% access to Broadbench without impacting on the MOD’s full use of the firing range.

We are calling on the MoD to revert to a previous firing station, changing where they fire from. This will in turn change the direction of their firing and leave Broadbench outside the boundary of the firing range. Leaving surfers and waveriders with 100% access to Broadbench without it impacting on the MoD in any way.

We are meeting for the Gathering at Kimmeridge Bay 10am, Saturday the 20th of June at 10am, it will be finished by 11.30. Please bring your wetsuit and surfboard/windsurf/kite board/kayak etc… Parking is £4 so please car share. It will be a fun event and your chance to be an active part of this solution based Protect Our Waves SAS action in association with ABBA.

For more information contact Andy Cummins on 01872 555 950 / 07711 767 548 or andy@sas.org.uk



Auction for the Promise Club will be lighting the stage up at this years Beach Break in Kent. The band, consisting of our own Zoe (the voice behind the service here at Finisterre) along with brother Toby and Perran, will be rubbing elbows with some of the biggest names in today’s music scene.

The trio have been spending countless days and night tightening things up and playing at some of the countries most historic venues and are now looking to open things up to over 10,000 people, at this years Beach Break.

They’ve spent the day settling in and running over the tight set and look to blow open the doors as the sun begins to drop, later today.

Lay it down homies!!

“That Zoe is so Hot right now”

His dad was British Long-boarding champion, the torch has been handed down the family ranks and their youngest Trev Garland, is humbly making his name. He quietly shows up at events, no heavy sponsors, or pimped out transportation, just a solid style and some solid competitive finishes.

So we’ll keep you posted on not only his competitive results, but his late summer session as well.

Below Trev is flashing the Finisterre flag, with a stylish hack and below he’s hanging his toes. All images provided by Aggie local surf photographer - Ben Howard.

Stoked to have you on board Trev.

Photo by: Ben Howard (http://www.benhowardphotos.co.uk/)

Photo by: Ben Howard (http://www.benhowardphotos.co.uk/)

Mart’s been around this place for a while. We first met him surfing Gwithian with Carlos Burle about three years ago. Since then he’s been on hand doing all sorts of good things round here - from wind turbines to SEO stuff. He’s just finished his Renewable Energy degree at Falmouth and is heading home, before starting a Masters.

He originally hails from the Isle of Wight, where him and his brothers rule their homebreak of Lake with an iron fist, and have their very own Wolfpak. Believe me you don’t want to drop in on these boys, spill their pints or even look at their ice creams. Legend has it that Kalani Alexander (of North Shore fame) started the North Shore Wolfpak, after a family holiday to the Isle of Wight ended after in tears when he was dusted up by Mart and the boys. Sunny Garcia also applied for work experience - this ended early.

Mart’s heading home for a bit to take up his watch on the Island. Thanks for all your work hombre.

So watch yourself if you find your way Island side this summer - just remember they grew there and you flew there (or caught the ferry). Brah.

The Tong Master

Griff was at the barbecue and Joel was at the barbecue and I was at the barbecue; three men standing around a barbecue, sipping beer, staring at sausages, rolling them backwards and forwards, never leaving them alone. We didn’t know why we were at the barbecue; we were just drawn there like moths to a flame. The barbecue was a powerful gravitational force, a man-magnet. Joel said the thin ones could use a turn, I said yeah I reckon the thin ones could use a turn, Griff said yeah they really need a turn it was a unanimous turning decision.

Griff was the Tong-Master, a true artist, he gave a couple of practice snaps of his long silver tongs, SNAP SNAP, before moving in, prodding, teasing, and with an elegant flick of his wrist, rolling them onto their little backs. A lesser tong-man would’ve flicked too hard; the sausages would’ve gone full circle, back to where they started. Nice, I said. The others went yeah. Kevin was passing us, he heard the siren-song- sizzle of the snags, the barbecue was calling, beckoning, Kevinnnnn …come.

He stuck his head in and said any room? We said yeah and began the barbecue shuffle; Griff shuffled to the left, Joel shuffled to the left, I shuffled to the left, Kevin slipped in beside me, we sipped our beer. Now there were four of us staring at sausages, and Griff gave me the nod, my cue. I was second-in-command, and I had to take the raw sausages out of the plastic bag and lay them on the barbecue; not too close together, not too far apart, curl them into each other’s bodies like lovers -fat ones, thin ones, herbed and continental.

The chipolatas were tiny, they could easily slip down between the grill, falling into the molten hot-bed-netherworld below. Carefully I laid them sideways ACROSS the grill, clever thinking. Griff snapped his tongs with approval; there was no greater barbecue honour.

P.J. came along, he said looking good, looking good -the irresistible lure of the barbecue had pulled him in too. We said yeah and did the shuffle, left, left, left, left, he slipped in beside Kevin, we sipped our beer. Five men, lots of sausages. Joel was the Fork-pronger; he had the fork that pronged the tough hides of the Bavarian bratwursts and he showed a lot of promise. Stabbing away eagerly, leaving perfect little vampire holes up and down the casing. P.J. was shaking his head, he said I reckon they cook better if you don’t poke them. There was a long silence, you could have heard a chipolata drop, and this newcomer was a rabble-rouser, bringing in his crazy ideas from outside. He didn’t understand the hierarchy; First the Tong-master, then the Sausage- layer, then the Fork-pronger -and everyone below was just a watcher. Maybe eventually they’ll move up the ladder, but for now - don’t rock the Weber.

Dianne popped her head in; hmmm, smells good, she said. She was trying to jostle into the circle; we closed ranks, pulling our heads down and our shoulders in, mumbling yeah yeah yeah, but making no room for her. She was keen, going round to the far side of the barbecue, heading for the only available space .. . . the gap in the circle where all the smoke and ashes blew. Nobody could survive the gap; Dianne was going to try. She stood there stubbornly, smoke blinding her eyes, ashes filling her nostrils, sausage fat spattering all over her arms and face. Until she couldn’t take it anymore, she gave up, backed off. Kevin waited till she was gone and sipped his beer. We sipped our beer, yeah.

Griff handed me his tongs. I looked at him and he nodded. I knew what was happening, I’d waited a long time for this moment - the abdication. The tongs weighed heavy in my hands, firm in my grip - was I ready for the responsibility? Yes, I was. I held them up high and they glinted in the sun. Don’t forget to turn the thin ones Griff said as he walked away from the barbecue, disappearing toward the house. Yeah I called back, I will, I will. I snapped them twice, SNAP SNAP, before moving in, prodding, teasing, and with an elegant flick of my wrist, rolling them back onto their little bellies. I was a natural, I was the TONG-MASTER. But only until Griff got back from the dunny.

We finally found the old bit of wood we had been looking for, found a smithy down the road to make branding stencils and we now have our own Finisterre sign here at Wheal Kitty Workshops. It’s only taken 3 1/2 years! Here are two photos - one of Nathan (who put the sign up) and one of Ernie (with Nathan’s drill, glove and tool belt, looking like he put the sign up).