Is It Possible To Be, Just A Little Bit Turned On By A Board Bag?

Italy, Greece, the Parthenon, the Coliseum— places I’ll likely never visit.

My explorational cadence slouches closer to the habits of a retired Boca Raton resident, somnambulantly shuffling through daily ritual. I find comfort in simplicity, which is why I own multiple pairs of the same Vans shorts and 4 colorways of the same J-Crew long-sleeve shirt.

A few weeks ago my mother rounded up the troops to discuss our first family vacation in half a decade. We needed a destination that met her standards for safety, my desire to surf, my father’s necessity to lay horizontal, and my brother’s lust for a pool bar.

Easy layup, Playa Hermosa. The same place I bunkered down last year during Vans Stab High Central America Presented by Monster Energy (V.S.H.C.A.P.M.E.). I reenacted the trip, only this time I wasn’t on the clock, and I had a new piece of equipment to assess— the Db Djärv Surfboard Coffin.

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It’s weird to feel a sexual attraction towards luggage, but my expensive internet therapist says I should address my emotions, not bury them. The Djärv whispers elegance, with its subtle features and sleek black tones. I don’t know if this description helps but it reminds me of one of those bulletproof escalades the secret service uses.

Looks good, but how would it perform in the harsh elements of Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood International Airport? Would there be any difference from the bag I schlepped during the first go-round?

I crammed extra leashes into its nifty compartments, tossed a few boards in, and buckled up, for the sake of science.

My Findings

For starters, it rolled.

When I say this bag rolled I’m talking Limp Bizkit level movement. Cracks, curbs, escalator ramps— not once did this let off the gas. While walking the sidewalk from the airport parking lot, an elderly lady jumped in front of me, separating me from the rest of my wolf pack. I bounced the curb, passed her in the street, then shimmied back up on the fly. Break-checking her wasn’t necessary, but it felt right.

I remember during (V.S.H.C.A.P.M.E.) one of the competitors had a bag with wheels, but you had to hold it up uncomfortably high for the rollers to engage. The Djärv, on the other hand, had no sweet spot, it just moved as an extension of my sluggish paddle noodle. As someone who physically and professionally looks up to Mikey C, the nose was two feet off the ground, yet the bag glided effortlessly.

I also recall the walk-through customs for Stab High being an absolute fucking nightmare. No wheels, 5 boards, and 50 lbs of promotional paraphernalia. I dragged, pushed, and pulled my way through the airport, panting across the finish line at customs. Wheels were a game changer, and the Djärv was tippin on 4-4s.

Now let’s talk love handles.

One thing that was very clear was the positioning of the handles. Board bags are an uncomfortable item to navigate in tight quarters. Bulky, heavy, and a bit of a rodeo to pick up/put down. Steering a 6-foot body bag through winding security lines, crowded airport shuttles, and elevators is a job that requires constant adjustment.

During my first Pura Vida escapade, I recall constantly flipping and rotating the bag so I could pick it up. With the Db surfboard coffin, I didn’t even look for the second handle. It was like a sex scene from a movie, as my hand avoid any awkward slip-ups and slid naturally into place.

It was clear to me that somewhere in a Scandanavian facility, Db’s design team spent years lifting and lowering a bag, finding just the right spot to anchor up. These handles/loops also proved to be helpful when it came time to strap the boards to the roof. While it’s not essential, having something to loop through puts a worried mind at ease.

During my first visit, I played San Jose chauffeur for late arrivals and early departures. The variety of surf luggage I encountered was astounding, and each one had a different shtick when it came to being strapped in. Some were prepared, but for the most part, the question every surfer asked was “Is there anything to put it through on that side?”

No, the answer was no, because it wasn’t my high science bombproof behemoth. I don’t know why I need a bombproof bag, all I know is it’s a cool thing to brag about loudly while waiting to check in for a flight.

It protec?

When I didn’t check my board for dings when I arrived in Costa Rica. I knew they were fine. As long as the unnamed airline baggage workers weren’t using the bag as an axe-throwing target, the North Face Nuptse jacket-esque padding would keep my precious cargo safe.

Final Verdict

While it’s evident I don’t remember basic the format of the scientific method, I can assure you the Db Djärv surfboard coffin is the pinnacle of surfboard transportation. As someone who exists in the same tax bracket as surf journalists, I understand the $500 price tag is a bullet to bite, but you pay for quality and in this case, a lifetime warranty.

You can save $200 and grab a decent coffin elsewhere. But remember, when you’re huffing and puffing towards your rental car, with 5 boards strapped over your shoulder, I’m crop dusting elderly folk in my Scandanavian SUV.