The Archetype. Inspired by the work of Jeff Alexander. Photo: Vulcan Surfboards
I got the weirdest little surfboard a little while ago. Here’s the thing: I just moved to southern California a year ago. One thing I didn’t realize about this palm-laden, glittering mecca was that a longboard – or something like it – was pretty much a necessity to stay in the water on a daily basis. And while I love longboarding, there’s just something about having a little squirrely stick under your feet that feels just a bit better. I tried all sorts of things: fishes, mini-sims, even one of those weird ‘70s single fins that have too much thickness and ride like a tank. I have no idea how anyone ever did anything on those. But none of them were a satisfying amalgam of wave-catching and performance. Then I talked to a guy named Dane Hantz. He sent me a few pictures of a little square quad, built like an ironing board with a flat nose. “You’ll love it,” he told me. “The thing about fishes is that, while they’re really fun, they can really spoil your shortboarding. It’s kind of a bummer, because you can be surfing average conditions on your fish, and you get spoiled. Then the swell picks up, and you’re out of tune on your regular shortboard. This is a board [using the convex technology] that you’ll get a really good wave count on, but you’ll still stay in tune. You’ll still transition back to your shorty without missing a beat.” That’s what I like to hear. One of the worst things ever is surfing on a fish or a longboard when the waves are shitty, then when something decent swirls in from some far-flung Pacific storm, you blow it on everything decent that comes your way.
This weird little ironing board Dane built for me is called the Archetype. And trust me, there’s a lot that went into it. Turns out it’s a lot more than just an ironing board.
Hantz, in all his shaping genius, came up with a pretty simple solution to a problem that’s long plagued people that don’t weight 90 pounds, but still like to catch a lot of waves and don’t like the cumbersome feeling of something that’s not a shortboard.
His design for the Archetype is a convex shape that tapers at the nose and tail. And here’s the kicker: it has no stringer. According to Hantz, it has more flex, more recoil, and more basic strength than anything else on the market. “I found that if you flip that single channel over and create a convex – just like if you have a retractable steel tape measure – if it was flat, it would be flimsy,” he explained. “As soon as you add a convex, you exponentially increase not only the strength to weight, but the flex and recoil.”
Now, to be fair, I’m not a world-class surfer. I know the basics about what makes what do what, and I know how I like a surfboard to feel, but when it comes to complicated design theory, I’m not exactly the guy to talk to. So I took Dane at his word and paddled out on this little 5’5 square thing with nubs on the nose and grooves along the sides. It looks weird. “What is that thing?” asked the first guy I paddled next to. Grinning a little, I told him I wasn’t sure yet. But I’d tell him soon.
Conditions weren’t great that first day. I brought three boards, just to take them all through their paces: a 9’6 single fin, a 5’10 fish, and Dane’s 5’5 Archetype. When I pulled into the parking lot overlooking the break, I was sorely tempted to drag out the longboard – I was greeted with knee-to-waist high little runners, sloping gently off the point, gutless and mushy. Basically the reason I own a longboard. But I pulled out Dane’s stick, freshly waxed and looking strange, and paddled out on it. The first wave I paddled for wasn’t something I thought I’d get – not on a board as small as this one, anyway. I’m 6’1 and weight around 180, and this board felt far too small for me. But in just a few strokes, I was into it, with more ease than seemed fair. On popping up, things got even stranger. On this little gutless mush-burger of a right, I barely had to pump. I did anyway, because, I suppose, muscle memory kicked in, and soon found myself way too far ahead. One quick turn, and I was back where I wanted to be. One more quick pump to the top of this tiny wave, and I was back in the race. When I kicked out at the end, I was pretty much in shock. It just didn’t feel like a surfboard – at least, not one I’m used to riding. It rode like a regular short board on a bigger, steeper wave, only this wave was neither big nor steep. Weird. I surfed for a few more hours until I was thoroughly gassed, then packed it up and headed home, thinking that I’d never ride another board. This was the one for me.
Dane Hantz makes surfing more fun. Thanks, Dane. Photo: Dan LeMaitre
A few days later, a decent south swell rolled in. Nothing huge: four-to-five feet with the occasional overhead outside set. The direction was such that it was a bit walled; getting in early, staying as high as possible and going as fast as I could was a necessity on the bigger sets. I took the Archetype out again, excited. Here’s where I ran into a few issues. While it still got me into waves earlier than seemed possible, because of the short, flat nose, I dug in a lot after top turns. There didn’t seem to be enough rocker in the tiny board to keep the nose out of the water. After blowing it on a few where I tried to turn a bit too aggressively (something I’ve always had a problem with), I started to take it a little easier, turning slower and wider, focusing on keeping the nose out of the face. It worked like a charm. I still had the ability to paddle in early, set up, and wait for the wave to do its thing. I still had all that speed that comes from a nearly rockerless board. And best of all, I wasn’t pumping at all. The Archetype flies effortlessly down the line, holds speed out of a bottom turn, and and paddles like something a foot longer.
And although I don’t pretend to understand all the science that Dane has put into this board, I do know one thing: it works. And it works well.
See more of Dane’s crazy creations at Vulcan Surfboards.
