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The story starts long ago in a land not so far away...
on the Caribbean island of Jamaica. Young Patrick was spending the summers with his grandparents in the small town of Newell in the parish of St. Elizabeth. Living only minutes from the ocean Patrick would frequent Pedro beach only to be warned not to swim in the crystal blue waters (which was hard due the inviting nature of the Caribbean Sea and the hot Jamaican sun) as "the current is too strong son, it a go carry unu away!" So summer after summer, with nothing to do but chase lizards, eat ginnep and play domino in the chicken pen so as to not get caught playing games all day, young Patrick started to look for other things to do... After being exposed to his first surfboard from a friend in California whose father had a 1970's gun with no fins on it except some glued on plastic strips acting as twin fin skegs, Patrick was intrigued as to how this surfboard thing worked and from there his mind started to turn...
Years later while in high school in Riverside California, Patrick had a biology teacher who had some old surfing pictures decorating his drab old classroom. Day after day, the teacher would be hit up for a surfing trip to the beach. Wanting to check this thing out and having a burning desire from the "boring old days" in Jamaica when he wanted to swim so badly but wasn't allowed without supervision, Patrick finally was convincing enough to secure a backseat on the next hour long drive called a surf trip. Trestles bound! No wetsuit, mid December and never before having surfed (not to mention, not having a board either). Early morning fog eliminating the idea of even understanding the surf, Patrick grabbed his teacher's board and jumped into the ocean...in trunks... He was hooked, even though he took a beating, got hypothermia (almost) and got laughed at. That was the beginning of Quashi's surfing. Later that year, Patrick convinced his mother to buy him a surfboard - he was on his way to becoming a surfer. He learned how to surf, started bumming rides to the beach as often as possible, all the while wondering if back in Pedro there was any surf. By the time he reached his senior year in high school, Patrick was surfing well and getting tired of the same old thing, bumming rides, living far from the beach, cold water, crowds, and just California in general so he convinced his parents that he "needed" to leave and go to Hawaii to a boarding school for his senior year and that graduating with his friends wasn't all that important "as long as I graduate right... isn't that what you want ultimately?"... and after a long summer filled with begging he was granted permission to go and off he went. |
Patrick spent the year surfing Ala Moana and the south shore daily and every Wednesday charging the North Shore with the surf club at school. Every holiday was spent traveling to outer islands looking for big sick barrels and Hawaiian juice as tickets home were "too expensive" at least that was the argument he gave his mom and dad.
Surfing had taken over. That same year, Patrick stumbled onto an open door that was usually locked in the school gym and being the curious guy he is, peeked inside to see "wha a gwan in de" and saw a beautiful surfboard sitting on a set of surfboard shaping racks. After sneaking in and looking around, he realized that he had stumbled onto the surf coach's secret shaping room. The next day it was on! First thing the next morning, Patrick was waiting by the office door. That was the start of his exploration into surfboard shaping. At the end of the year, it was graduation time and the reality of college set in. Back to California. Not even two years later school was getting old and Patrick needed a change again. Back to Hawaii again. This time he was 19 and felt he was ready to live on his own... convincing Mom and Dad again he was off. The realities of finding shelter, a job set in and he hit the streets looking. Two days later, he found a house and a job working for Hawaiian Island Creations in the Ala Moana Shopping Center. Few months later, he bought an old VW bug and was back on the north shore surfing the big winter swells and hangin' with the locals... Ahh back in paradise. He had surf, nuff reggae music, and warm water and due to him being Jamaican the locals were cool to him. Then one day, the phone rang... Mom and Dad said its time to finish college, this time they did the convincing. Back to California.
Two years later, Patrick was back to his old tricks and this time he had finished his bachelor's degree and was off to Costa Rica to be a "professor" and surf. While in Costa Rica, he traveled over to see the Caribbean side of the country to search out some of his long lost Jamaican family members that had migrated to Limon from Jamaica (and surf of course, he also had heard of the heaviest wave in the country, Salsa Brava). While on that side, he noticed the surf was unreal and that it was filled with Jamaican Patois speaking surfers. Again his mind went back to the days at Pedro and the years of people telling him "there is no surfing in Jamaica" and wondered what this was all about. After a 9 month stay in CR, He headed back to California to start his shaping business and to research this "no surf in Jamaica" thing out. Then it happened. Patrick opened a reggae magazine and saw an article about a guy named Billy Mystic who was surfing in Jamaica! That was it. About a year later, Patrick saw a dreadlocked guy walking into one of his regular reggae outlets and noticed he was wearing surf trunks. It was Billy Mystic from the magazine. Patrick approached Billy and asked "is there really surfing in Jamaica?" The answer, "of course, theres an ocean nearby isnt there? "! - Patrick told of his shaping history and his surfboard company . Billy was stoked and shocked to find a Jamaican shaper and so contact numbers were exchanged. About a year later, Patrick was in Jamaica and called Billy. The two met and went surfing and it was on that trip back to Jamaica that Quashi surfboards found its calling.... To Change Surfing Culture
A BRAND IS BORN!