Daniel Partch

Daniel Partch is a Cal­i­for­nia surfer/shaper who is known for his cus­tom wooden fin designs. Hav­ing spent nearly 15 years in the mil­i­tary, Daniel even­tu­ally found his way back to his love of surf­ing. We inter­viewed Daniel to learn more about this inspir­ing story.

What was your life like grow­ing up?
I grew up the son of a Chula Vista police offi­cer who taught karate and was a devout Chris­t­ian, so it was strict. You didn’t get out of line. If you did, you knew you were in for it. I had lots of chores and learned to work my butt off for every­thing. I am dyslexic, so I had a hard time in school—always pre­ferred to be out­doors on my BMX bike, skate­board or, in those days, boo­gie boarding.

When did you get your first surf­board?
Got my first surf­board in 6th grade. It was a garage shape by Lito Fojas, a Fil­ipino teenager who was shap­ing and doing all his own work. It was a 6’0” twin fin with a light­ning bolt on the bot­tom. Man, l liked that board! I’m still surf­ing boards from that era—late 70’s early 80’s. I was pretty much a sponger, though, until I was 20 and had a decent car. I rode my beach cruiser with back­pack, fins and wet­suit to Impe­r­ial Beach from Chula Vista, so car­ry­ing a reg­u­lar board was too much for me in my early teens.

What was the feel­ing you had when you first stood up on a surf­board?
First time I stood up, I felt the glide. Had a 70’s Infin­ity sin­gle fin that I really learned on. Hard rails tip to tail, rail to rail. Hauled ass all the way in to the beach. I was hooked! Surf junkie! I also learned to love the old boards because that’s all I ever rode. Never had a new board ‘til I was 25. Times are dif­fer­ent now for kids—spoiled brats mostly. (Laughs)

Who did you look up to and admire when you were a young boy?
Who did I look up to? Hmm … mainly BMX stars—Stu Thomp­son, Greg Hill. Also motocross stars like Bob Han­nah. I liked catch­ing air on my BMX bike. I could ride half­pipes and do a lot of stuff—typical South­ern Cal­i­for­nia kid. Loved dirt bikes, skate­board­ing, BMX and, of course, surf­ing. Every Sun­day, dad took us all to the beach in the sta­tion wagon to Impe­r­ial Beach. Dad grew up in IB body surf­ing. Later, he became a recre­ational scuba diver, for abalone and shell­fish. We also took trips to Mex­ico. I was just a spud, a happy lit­tle kid play­ing on the beach. The ocean… surf­ing is the one place my dad and me got along—a “no fire zone”.

Tell us about what got you into mak­ing fins?
I got into mak­ing fins when I got out of the mil­i­tary after nearly 15 years. I have PTSD [post-traumatic stress dis­or­der]. Got kicked out the back door too, but the vet cen­ters helped me get my life back on track. I also had some phys­i­cal disabilities—back surgery. And so I had to “rein­vent” myself. I went back to my love of the ocean and to build­ing surf­boards, my true love.

Who/what inspires you?
What inspires me? To build a bet­ter mouse trap. Guys like Skip Frye were awe­some to me dur­ing this time frame. Surf­ing with him, watch­ing him shape and hav­ing some spir­i­tual time—he was and is my mentor.

Who helped you with the design and sub­tleties of fin mak­ing?
Fins came kind of nat­u­rally to me, so Skip got me and Larry Gephart together. Geppy taught me how to foil, how to look at things with­out mea­sur­ing all the time. He took what I could do and made me bet­ter, way bet­ter. I’m not brag­ging. I just really appre­ci­ate what he taught me. Gephart is a recluse; doesn’t open his world to any­one. He was and is the fin man in San Diego. He made all the fins for Steve Lis’ boards.. You know … the guy who invented the fish. Every­one else is copy­ing what they did, but none have sur­passed them. They are the orig­i­nals… the stylemasters.

What is the great­est thing you have learned in your life?
Great­est thing I learned in my life? To live in the moment, to pre­pare for tomor­row even though tomor­row is promised to no one. That we are not here for ourselves.

What are you most proud of?
I’m most proud of being a Marine, of fight­ing in the Gulf War, of being a marine drill instruc­tor even though I didn’t and still don’t think we have any busi­ness in the Gulf or Mid­dle East. The peo­ple there have been killing each other since before Christ was born. We are not going to make “Amer­i­cans” out of them. And who nom­i­nated us “the world’s police­men”? I learned that our prob­lems mainly stem from bad lead­er­ship at any level of the mil­i­tary or gov­ern­ment. I had my fill of it. It’s a bit­ter­sweet feel­ing. I did what I could at my level. I feel for our troops over­seas. I know what they are going through and I sup­port them.

Of all the places you have trav­eled to, what place in par­tic­u­lar stands out and why?
I’ve lived in Nor Cal and Hawaii on the Big Island. Trav­eled to some crappy unde­sir­able places in the mil­i­tary too. The place that stands out the most is right here at home. No place like home… and Sun­set Cliffs. My dad took the fam­ily there, when I was five or six years old, to the tide pools. I watched the dol­phins in the tank there. It was a place that cap­tured my imag­i­na­tion and still does. It’s where I want my ashes scat­tered when all is said and done. It’s my home.

What mean­ing does surf­ing hold for you and how has it changed your life?
Surf­ing has helped me all my life. It’s where I go when I’m over­whelmed with this shitty ole world. It’s the one pos­i­tive in all the neg­a­tive that hap­pens. Nature unchanged by man, for the most part. God is the ulti­mate artist—his cre­ations, his canvas.

Who are some of the peo­ple you feel are shap­ing the path for surf­ing today?
There are so many peo­ple surf­ing and build­ing boards and things nowa­days. Prob­a­bly some kid in a garage some­where. But really, boards, fins… they are all just tools. The rid­ing of the wave, in any form is love, is liv­ing in the moment and how we were designed to be. Peo­ple are too over­loaded with cell phones, com­put­ers, wor­ry­ing about shit that doesn’t mat­ter. Learn­ing to ride a wave—to be one with nature—is how we were really designed to be… in nature.

What is your cur­rent favorite board? Your favorite surf spot?
Favorite board is a Michael Miller fish. He is the best shaper and glasser in the busi­ness, in my opin­ion. His only fault is not pro­mot­ing or brag­ging about him­self. He’s a coun­try boy from Florida—works hard, says what he means… the kind of man I’ve under­stood and respected other than Skip Frye. Miller has his shit together like I’ve not seen in any­one. I just can’t say enough good things about him and I’m very slow to give any­one that kind of credit. I’ve worked with him for seven years or so now, and he has shaped all my magic boards every time. He shapes what you tell him you want with­out tak­ing a bunch of lib­er­ties and doing what he thinks he should make you. Skip has taught him a lot too. They are neigh­bors and work next door to each other—two of my favorite peo­ple in this world.

What’s your favorite meal?
Favorite meal? Andrea’s salmon and potato din­ner. She is an awe­some gal. I left Hawaii to meet her and ended up staying.

What are you cur­rently lis­ten­ing to on your iPod?
Cur­rently lis­ten­ing to coun­try. My favorite are Willie Nel­son and Johnny Cash. I grew up lis­ten­ing to them as a lit­tle boy. I guess they just make me feel good. I’m also into jazz, the busy stuff. I go back and forth on that, can’t lis­ten to the same thing all the time. I like songs that have real mean­ing and real sound.

What are you most grate­ful for?
Most grate­ful for my mom. She has always been there for me whether I was right or wrong—always pray­ing for me.

What’s next for Daniel Partch?
What’s next for me? I don’t know. Despite all the lead­er­ship I had and learned, I feel lost quite a lot. PTSD and the war have taken their toll on my emo­tional side. So what’s really next for me is to try and grow some roots, to live in the moment and plan for tomor­row although it’s promised to no one. Life is short. That’s why you gotta do it right.

Find out more about Daniel Partch and his work here. Prin­ci­pal pho­tog­ra­phy pro­vided by Mani Caro.