Wahine vol.2, #4 summer 98 "Shaper Shannon"

Like all surfboard shapers, Shannon Payne-McIntyre starts each creation with a perfect blank. But being practically the only female shaper anyone can name, she comes to the job with a different kind of blank slate. She'll tell you lack of precedence tends to open doors, rather than keep them closed.

"I think being a girl has helped me, definitely," says Shannon, 23, who shaped her first board less than two years ago. She has a thriving customer base of females just embarking on a surfing life, who want her boards. They trust her instincts, as shaping is roughly one part wizardry, two parts instinct and more than a dash of knowledge - the secret formula passed down from shaper to shaper. Along the line, she got her hands on some of that knowledge, with the help of Shayne, her husband and best teacher (who learned his craft under the tutelage of masters like Chris Ruddy, Tim Bessell, and Adam Gillespie). A former art student, Shannon found shaping to be a perfect pursuit, given her love of surfing, and her desire to create things. She and Shayne, also 23, now have a thriving shaping business in San Diego, near her hometown of Santee. "We make functional art," Shannon says. It was predestined: on their first date, they went surfing.

In the shaping bay, Shannon turns the dusty old radio way up high. This is her private domain; part of the shaper' mystique is the secrecy of their craft. With goggles and mask tethered firmly to her head, a current of long hair channeled into ponytails, she sets about her work. First she blocks out the foam "blank" and cuts it with a saw. Then she skins it out with a planer, until she get the thickness she wants. She draws the shape using a template, like a sewing pattern, plotting the board's center, nose and tail widths, and cuts it down to size. Taking up the planer again, she takes down the nose and tail from the underside, defining the board's rocker and concave, and sands it down sensitively. Sometimes she takes a dance break. "I'm always afraid someone will walk in on me when I'm doing hip hop," she laughs. She admits it's a strange environment: tiny windowless room, irregular light, and toxic dust. But meditative. "I pray a lot," she says, and admits she finds answers in the shaping bay.

Then she sands the deck, and turns the rails with a screen used in making drywall (in fact, all of her tools can be bough at the mega-hardware store). She plots out where the fins will go, a job that will be finished by the guy who will glass the board. Then she fine-tunes the board - sanding it carefully to get rid of all bumps and other aberrations she uses parallel fluorescent lights to throw shadow on the board's surface, to check for bad spots. Then she signs it.

Often, she paints the boards in bright wahine imagery: mermaids, floral patterns, hula girls, scenes of the ocean - "anything where I get to use a lot of color," she says. Her logo is a mermaid, and at second glance you notice the "S" (for Shannon) in the mermaid's tail. Women's boards have more style and individuality, she thinks. "It's your wave-tool, you super-fun tool. I get a lot more attached to my surfboards, keep them longer than Shayne. I think guys have a quick turnover of boards.

" A good shaper is a combination artist and technician, says Shannon. Anyone can learn the basics of shaping, but the true craftsperson is rare. Shannon acknowledges sister-shaper Miranda Pitts of Santa Cruz, who has apprenticed under Johnny Rice. She says like Miranda, the individual has to pursue her teachers if she wants to learn to be a shaper. "no one is going to bend over backwards to teach you," she says.

"If I'm the only girl around that's doing this, then there is definitely something wrong, with all the hundreds of guys out there shaping. I'm looking forward to the day when things are more balanced.

By, Catou MacKinnon