One Bookend

Surfer-shaper duo Dane Gudauskas and Donald Brink have found a sweet spot working on what Brink calls the “bookends” of a quiver. These special projects range from incredibly tiny boards to absurdly big ones.

For Gudauskas, this means trusting in Brink’s often “out-there” ideas. “Donnie’s not afraid to go beyond what others may say is crazy,” Gudauskas says. “If he truly believes in the functionality of a design, he’s willing to go into new territory to see if it works, because nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

Brink has found in Gudauskas his ideal test pilot, praising his commitment to unlocking new designs rather than imposing his surfing onto the boards he rides. “It’s really a world of difference compared to someone who can simply ride multiple boards well,” says Brink. “His ability to understand and adjust to what a board is doing—to really just dance with it—is second to none. The biggest delight for me is being able to make his surfing deeper.”

Their shared curiosity has produced several interesting experiments, like the 4’2″ Ubuntu board, a Bob Simmons–inspired, hovercraft-like shape that Gudauskas took to South Africa. On the opposite end of the spectrum, their most recent collaboration started when Brink wondered, What is the narrowest possible board that could be surfed well?

In pursuit of an answer, the pair turned to the past for inspiration, taking a trip to the Surfing Heritage and Culture Center in San Clemente, California. “That’s always been our philosophy,” Gudauskas explains. “Looking at the tradition and asking, ‘How can you continue that conversation? If these surfers were still around, how would they want to see these designs evolve?’”

They took measurements from the kookbox designs on display in the museum’s Tom Blake exhibit and studied the outlines of Hawaiian olo boards. Their interest was also piqued by Tom Morey’s Air-Lubricated Future Craft, a Batmobile-esque design built for maximum speed, with a plaque underneath warning, “Too Dangerous to Surf.”

With this research in mind, Brink built a prototype by gluing together the foam offcuts accumulated in his bay after a week of shaping. The board he ended up with was 8’8″ × 14″, with a bulbous tail designed to act as a “cockpit” for the rider’s feet. After taking his experiment for a test ride at Sano, Brink was blown away.

 “Every single experience was different,” he says. “I felt acceleration like I’ve never felt before. There was no distraction—just crystal-clear focus on you and the wave. I had a feeling of ‘Oh my goodness me, this is how I want to be surfing for the rest of my life.’” 

From that first session, Brink could feel that the board wanted for a bigger wave. He also wanted to see a pro like Gudauskas truly put it through its paces.

The opportunity arose when Gudauskas took it on a trip to Iceland for a promising swell. He had high hopes: Being confident in Brink’s design, it was the only board he packed. His bet paid off. With the help of some local insight, he rode it in perfect 10- to 12-foot lefts. “The way the board projected you up the face was so fast and precise,” Gudauskas says. “I could unleash all that energy and navigate off the top in one huge power carve, almost like a telemark ski line.”

The board tested Gudauskas’ unique ability to unlock a shape’s potential. “It was tricky to adapt to how narrow it was,” he says, “but that’s the kind of sensory experience I was looking for—that feeling of improvising completely in the moment. That’s so rare now, as surfing continues to grow. How often are you genuinely surprised at what you’re going to feel under your feet?” 

With the board now field tested, Brink is working on the next iteration of the design, for Hawaii. He plans to swap in a pintail to hold in more critical surf but keep the core concepts of extreme narrowness and water-line length.

Gudauskas’ expressive surfing and Brink’s innovative craftsmanship hinge on an element of surprise or risk. Brink warns shapers about the dangers of routine and looking for a one-size-fits-all solution. “You need to be responsible enough to admit that surfing is really difficult to do,” he says. “Constantly trying to make it easier can dilute the experience. It can wash away the essence of what it is.”