“Liquid Spirit’s mission is to bring the sport and culture of surfing to new levels and new communities,” Logan says from the backseat. “Surfing is not only a sport but an art form of expression, a discovery of individuality, and an enthusiasm for adventure. We want to create an environment where those with a passionate spirit can grow and conquer their dreams.”
“Generic,” Colby says. “That could be a mission statement for any surf company on the planet. They want to spread surf culture, get more eyes on our sport, and cash in. More visibility means more cash flow.”
If Liquid Spirit wants visibility, they’re definitely going to get it. It’s not like anyone can really un-see the massive store and its giant dome-covered wave pool. As much as I hate it, I know they’ll thrive. Kids who’ve never surfed before will test the wave pool first. Parents who don’t want to let their kids into the vast ocean will feel safer here. It’s a monitored, controlled environment. Surfers will flock to the pool during bad weather weeks, and those who aren’t against it ethically will use the control to master air reverses or how to maintain their speed in the tube. It’s a breeding ground for a new generation of non-surfers to become the next big names in the sport.
Logan continues his informative speech with measurements of the wave pool – nearly 1,100 feet in length and 400 feet in width – and how convenient Liquid Spirit is for all of your surfing and beach-going needs. The wave pool alone will keep them in business. That’s a never-ending need for surfboards, wax, fins, wetsuits, and surf leashes.
Jace shakes his head but never looks away from the highway. “Who do they think they are? Hurley? There’s no way they can be the next big name in surf sponsorship and products,” he says. “Who’s footing the bill for all of this? They literally just came out of nowhere. They didn’t grow and finally make it big.”
I glance out the window and try to place myself back on the beach at the Sunrise Valley Tournament. What was that guy’s name who wanted to sign Topher? They offered him mega-money, more than he’d ever make with Drenaline Surf.
“There’s no CEO listed on their site,” Logan says. “But there’s a contact number if you want to call them.”
Jace laughs, just barely. “No, thanks,” he says, finally seeming to be back on our side. “I wonder if they knew we were looking into a lot on that street. If they’ve already made a move to try and sign Topher, they’re obviously aware of who we are.”
That’s what scares me. We’re trying to branch out, but we only have four surfers signed to us, and Colby’s the most famous of them all – and it’s not always the good kind of fame with him. What are we doing to grow Drenaline Surf? We can’t afford a stadium store with a wave pool. If Liquid Spirit builds a name for itself and decides to open small branches down the coastline, Drenaline Surf could easily go under.
“If they’re looking to step on the competition, a wave pool is a pretty genius way to go about it,” Logan says, sending a sharp pain throughout my body.
“Genius? You think that’s genius?” Colby snaps.
Oh, here it goes.
“It’s a disgrace to our sport,” Colby says, matter-of-factly. “Surfing is about being out there, among the waves, waiting for a perfect set to roll through. It’s about the uncertainty. It’s about the adrenaline rush. Will you land that air? Will you make it out of the tube? It’s about how the water feels splashing against your face, how the sun feels beating against your skin. It’s a moment in time. It’s uncontrollable and unpredictable. That’s what makes it perfect.”
My fingers dig into the seat to keep me from turning around to see his face. It’d be dangerous right now to see that kind of passion burning behind his eyes. He sounds just like the guy I met at a boring corporate party in North Carolina. He sounds like the dreamer I chased across the country. He sounds like the kind of guy Shark McAllister would have taken under his wing and made into the best surfer on the west coast.
“No, I get that,” Logan says. “But this is also a sport. It’s for competition. There is no better training ground than a controlled wave. You can learn to master things that the ocean may not let you learn as quickly. There’s less chance for injury. John John Florence may be incredible, but how often is he out with injuries?”
The ocean blurs next to us, just a long strip of greenish-blue haze pouring itself alongside the highway. I’m glad Topher stayed behind today. I’m not sure what stance he takes regarding wave pools, but with Logan name-dropping John John Florence, Topher would’ve probably eaten him like a Great White on a seal.
“That argument isn’t even valid,” Colby counters. “John John injures himself going for broke in real waves of consequence. And he’s mastered it in the ocean. Pipeline is his backyard.”
“Well, not everyone is fortunate enough to grow up next to the ocean with places like Pipeline in their backyards,” Logan smarts back.
Colby scoffs. “We’re from North Carolina,” he says. “Haley and I are just as east coast as you are, if not more.”
Jace reaches for the volume on the radio, says something about loving this song, and drowns out any chance Logan had to make a comeback.
“It’s not as big as the lot near Sunrise Valley,” Mr. Brighton says as he searches for the correct key to this old building. “But I think it has potential to be something, with the right touch, that is.”
I step back and take in the old mechanic shop. Mallard Brothers Automotive is painted in scratchy, faded letters over the entrance. The pastel blue paint remains only in remnants. A thick layer of dust clouds the windows, much like the back bedroom of Shark’s house.
When we step inside, I can’t help but wonder how long this place has been out of service. It has probably been on the market for a while, and no one bothers to keep it up. It looks as though someone came in, pushed a broom around to pretend it’d been cleaned, and then vanished without actually doing any real work. Dust particles glisten in the air around us, exposed by the sunlight trying to force its way through the dirty windows.
“Well, it needs some work,” Logan says from behind me.
“You think?” Colby counters. He brushes past me and turns to face us. “This place is too small. There’s no way to fit Drenaline Surf’s typical inventory in here.”
“He’s right,” I say, walking beyond Colby to look further into the building. “Even if you could fit everything, it’d just stretch back outside of the cashier’s view. You’re opening the store up to a lot of easy theft.”
Jace sighs louder than necessary, but he knows we’re right. The layout of this building won’t work without overhauling the entire thing – not to mention that it needs a deep scrub because there’s still car oil residue on the concrete flooring.
“Okay, so what if we don’t do things like the original Drenaline Surf?” Jace asks. He walks past me, studying the layout and building plans in his head. “What if we take that wall down and move it back, so we can make a board showroom over here?”
He points to the open space out to the left that was probably once a small lobby or waiting area. I can’t imagine much else other than a vending machine, a few chairs, and a bedside table fitting in there.
He walks over to the ancient front counter. “We can revamp this and leave it here,” he says. “And this area to the right – we’ll use it for a smaller display, maybe surfboard accessories since the showroom is the main focus. Stick the wax, leashes, whatever over here. Sort of like a ‘last minute items’ to go with your board.”
“And what about the entire back part of the building?” Colby asks, still not seemingly sold on anything that Jace is pitching us.
Jace smiles this Vin Brooks kind of smirk that makes my heart twinge in a somewhat awkward yet nostalgic way.
“That’s the best part,” he says, too slyly for even my comfort level. “What if we don’t turn this into a second store? What if we turn it into a custom board shop? Shark always wanted his own line of surfboards. We can do it here. We can use that entire shop for an actual board shaping shop.”
Colby walks over to the counter and looks around, like he can’t quite wrap his brain around everything just yet. “Okay, so the idea is borderline genius, but you’re forgetting the most important part of that plan,” he says. “We don’t have a board shaper, and most shapers want their own business, not to work for another company. At least not long-term. They’ll use you as a stepping stone until they can branch out.”
Jace shakes his head. “Not if we hire someone internally who wants to do it just for Drenaline Surf,” he says. “And I already know who’ll do it for us.”