Foam particles float through the air, eventually falling into a pile on the floor, the culmination of the many boards that have been shaped in the garage.

Kyle Shellhammer is using a planer to manipulate a polyurethane foam blank, sanding off layers until it forms into what will become one of his Eggnog surfboards.

Surfboard makers serve as a gateway that ushers people into the sport. Riding a board for the first time can spark a passion for surfing that can last a lifetime.

Well-known shapers such as Al Merrick, Rusty Preisendorfer and Bing Copeland set the stage for custom board-making and propelled the evolution of their design.

Some of that same evolution is taking place in Coos Bay.

Shellhammer’s boards have a distinct shape — like an egg — and style that’s specific to his shaping.

The 35-year-old shaper said an Eggnog board is anything from a 6 feet, 3 inches to 7 feet, 5 inches with a single fin. Surfboards for when the waves are fun, but not too big, he said.

He hand shapes all of his boards, taking time to learn about his customers before he makes them. Sometimes going as far as surfing with the person to gauge their style.

He said factory-produced boards made overseas don’t have the same quality as handmade ones.

Shellhammer got his first surfboard blanks at 18 years old, from there Eggnog surfboards was born.

He said he learned a lot in those early days.

“There’s so much more involved with shaping,” Shellhammer said, “I adapted to it really quickly because I tested my equipment.”

He said surfboards — or what he calls "vehicles of happiness" — don’t have to be perfect to work well.

“Every wave is different,” he said, “having perfectly symmetrical boards doesn’t mean they work better.”

Even the way he shapes boards for the Oregon Coast differs from other places he’s lived like Santa Barbara or Maui.

The shapes, like the personalities of those surfing, change as you move up the coast. Shellhammer said South Coast surfers are more humble than their warm-water counterparts.

“Majority of people aren’t surfing here because it’s cool,” he said, “That whole vibe doesn’t exist here.”

It gives him more freedom in his shaping. He doesn’t use templates to make his boards, instead taking inspiration from several different sources and combining it into one.

“He’s kind of a freewheeling guy,” Veteran shaper Dan Matthews said of his younger counterpart.

Matthews has been shaping for almost 50 years. In that time, he’s seen surfing evolve quite a bit.

“In 1964, there weren’t 50 surfers in all of the Northwest,” he said.

In the late 1960s Matthews started a surfboard shop with some of his friends.

That was before surfing wetsuits were available. Matthews said surfers used bulky diving suits that consisted of high-waisted pants and a jacket.

“We used to sprinkle cornstarch so you could get them on,” he said.

There were no gloves or boots either.

“Your feet just got really cold,” Matthews said.

Equipment isn’t the only thing that’s evolved in the sport.

“In the 60s and 70s the big move was to get in the barrel and go fast,” Matthews said.

That changed as thrusters started to surface in the 1980s, allowing surfers to make turns on waves like a skater would carve on cement.

Matthews said he prefers shaping short boards because they’re fun to make, but adds that good surfers can ride anything from a 6-foot board to a 9-foot one.

To him, surfing is attractive because it’s on the edge of being in the extreme sport category.

“There’s an element of danger, there’s the coolness of the whole thing,” Matthews said.

The element of danger is especially prevalent in the area, where the shark-inhabited, frigid water isn’t the most inviting place. But the comparatively small amount of local surfers creates a sense of community.

“Even with younger surfers, if they come in with a respectful attitude,” Matthews said.

The shaper is busier these days, teaching classes at Southwestern Oregon Community College and helping run his wife’s business.

Matthews said he stopped fiberglassing because of the resin fumes, which can be toxic. Shellhammer glasses all his boards now.

Shellhammer said glassing is its own unique skill, separate to shaping.

“To make glassing work you have to kind of be a mess as a person,” he said, “They’re [glassers] all wacky.”

In the shop, he works quickly, smoothing the liquid resin over the fiberglass cloth before it hardens.

The pigment swirls, creating patterns on the white surface. However, the board still has several steps to go until it is ocean-ready.

Although surfboard-making may be a drawn-out process, Shellhammer’s explanation for a surfboard’s purpose is simple.

“Your board is an extension of you to connect with the ocean,” he said.

Reach Saphara Harrell at (541) 269-1222 ext. 239 or by email at saphara.harrell@theworldlink.com

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