Right Way, Right Stuff

A failed attempt taught me an important lesson: the right tool can change everything. My search for a better way would soon lead me to a craftsman whose knowledge had been passed down for centuries.

Two Materials I Considered for the Core
To continue developing my surfboard, I first succeeded in making a small core that could fit in both hands. The next step was to shape the smooth curves that give a surfboard its unique form.

With confidence, I picked up an angle grinder and began carving.

In an instant, the outer edge of the core that I had spent so much time making was blown away.

I stood there in disbelief.

At that moment, I remembered something I had learned years earlier in Australia:

"Right way, Right stuff."

It was a simple lesson with a profound meaning: when you use the right tool in the right way, even difficult work can be done safely, efficiently, and beautifully.

We were also taught Occupational Safety—the importance of using tools correctly, maintaining a safe working environment, and wearing appropriate protective equipment.

Fortunately, I wasn't injured.

Instead, the accident reminded me how essential those lessons really were.

Although it was a major setback, I had no intention of giving up.

Working with lightweight clay required far too much time, and I realized it was not suitable for carving the flowing curves of a surfboard.

So I began searching once again for a better material.

After visiting several home improvement stores, I narrowed my choices down to expanded polystyrene and Styrofoam. As I researched further, I discovered that while expanded polystyrene absorbs water, Styrofoam has a closed-cell structure that resists water absorption. It was also rigid enough to be carved precisely.

"I've found it."

I decided to fill the spaces inside my lattice frame with carefully cut pieces of Styrofoam.

After rebuilding the core, I cut it into the outline of a surfboard. This time, instead of using power tools, I chose to shape it entirely by hand.

I picked up a hand file and cautiously began carving.

The material slowly started to take shape. I became completely absorbed in the work, and before I realized it, nearly two hours had passed.

Yet the amount I had accomplished was disappointingly small.

"This won't work."

Careful craftsmanship is important, but an inefficient process would never bring me closer to a finished surfboard.

Then another thought came to me.

"There must be many different kinds of files. If I could find the one designed specifically for this job, surely the work would become much faster."

Until then, I had used files without giving them much thought. I had never learned how many types existed or what each one was truly designed for.

So I decided to seek out someone who knew.

Someone whose family had been making files for centuries.

That decision would lead me to meet a craftsman whose knowledge would change the way I looked at tools forever.


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Learning from Failure
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