- I've always connected deeply to the ocean.

I think there's something innately therapeutic about it.

We come from the ocean, we're made of water, we have a life dependency on water, and in a way the oceans connect us all, no matter where we are.

(gentle music) I find the same thing is with grief, in that grief is a connector in many ways.

As a surfer, I see that very much, that the ocean for me is this giant fluid canvas where it allows you to carve in whatever way you want.

You can take any wave, you can go in any direction you want, whether it's carving back or going down the line.

And for me, it's sort of that big canvas that allows you to express yourself and express your emotions as people do with art.

I grew up in a family of artists really.

My dad was an architect and a self-taught musician and my mom was an artist, and my sister and I had a huge focus on that growing up.

One weekend we decided as we sort of moved into this new house, that we wanted to make it a little bit more of our own and show our own expression that way.

So everyone got to pick a wall in the basement downstairs and create a mural about who they saw themselves as.

And my father was always a very brave, very determined, resilient man who was able to really do anything.

He was very much a dreamer and whatever it is he wanted to accomplish, he did.

And that was my role model growing up.

(gentle music) In 2019, my father passed away from pancreatic cancer.

To see him deteriorate over eight years, again in waves of it, there was times where it felt like he was coming back and being stronger and then it would dip again.

And I never imagined I would see him in the state that he ended up in, which just broke me to pieces to see that.

And about half a year later, my dog, my best friend of 15 years passed away as well.

(upbeat music) So after my father had passed, I was looking for ways to reconnect to him.

So much of our relationship revolved around adventure, so I just decided to write his name down on one of my surfboards, because I had turned to surfing and the ocean as therapy, and I thought it'd be great to bring him back there so that the two of us could go on sort of one final adventure in a way.

So I sat out there in the waves and it was a beautiful day and he was free again.

Here's my offer to you guys.

And then I went right to my car and grabbed my phone and recorded a video.

Maybe you lost someone who just loves being outdoors.

And just put it out to the world.

Comment on this video with their name and a bit of their story, and I'll put their name on my board here, just like I've done with my dad up front, and I'll take them out in the ocean for you, okay?

When you're going through that grief and you feel the isolation, you feel it's only happening to you, right?

You're looking for ways to connect to other people, you're looking for community.

But I didn't think that people would have the vulnerability and the courage to share that as well, because it was really difficult for me.

But I found that as I did that and I was vulnerable, it brought other people into the project as well, and the names started trickling in overnight and that first board filled up within five days, with 1500 names on it, from all around the world.

(upbeat music) So when the first few names started to roll in, I started to take the board out to the ocean every day just to sit by it in order to be able to write those first 100 names on the board.

(gentle music) It was important for me to feel connected, and it was very emotional because I read every single submission that comes in and to understand the beauty of the lives of every person that's on the board.

It was an important part of the process for me and for the families as well.

I wanted to make sure that each board was a unique piece of art.

So the first board, I did myself as a way of expressing how I was feeling, and then when I opened the project sort of up to the world I wanted to have different shapers and locations that had a connectiona to the project in some way and would allow people in different parts of the world to experience it.

And then we have the sixth board that's gonna be released in Santa Cruz.

What's special about the area too is it's sort of where surfing was introduced by the Hawaiians to the mainland.

Ryan Lynch, who's the shaper of this board takes fallen redwood trees, and the whole process of shaping them into a piece of art really is just extraordinary.

You have 804 names about halfway through the board, should be about 1600 total.

It's probably about 35 hours in total to get them all on there.

It's very similar, I find, to actually being out in the water, you have that singular focus and try to put all your energy into catching that wave and being in touch with the ocean.

And when I'm here, it's being connected to everyone who's going on the board and giving them that moment.

This piece that I find is very much like a river coming through the side of the board here, because the ink sinks in so quickly into the wood that you can't make any mistakes into it.

So there's a lot of attention paid to making sure everyone's name is written on there correctly, and the time taken to do that, and just understanding that as you go.

But it makes it exciting at the same time.

And then I'll be able to go over there and we'll surf it in Santa Cruz and be able to share that with everyone who's gonna be there for the launch.

The ocean itself, it's so vast and limitless that we don't really know what's out there.

We don't really know the direction the next wave of grief is gonna take us.

(gentle music) It's the uncertainty of grief that connects us to the ocean because people often come there as a way to explore what they're feeling, to feel not so alone in the vastness of it all.

(gentle music) I'm Dan Fischer, I'm the founder of The One Last Wave Project, I'm a father and a surfer and an artist, I guess.

(gentle music)