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Some WWII California Surfers

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World War II put surfing in a kind of suspended animation. There were guys surfing when they could, but most everyone was involved in the war effort on some level and the war took everyone’s time – one way or the other:


“Convertible” Larry


“Convertible Larry was a veritable unsolved mystery,” Don James wrote of a San Onofre regular during the summer of 1942. “On Friday nights he’d arrive at San Onofre driving a LaSalle convertible and wearing a business suit. No one was sure what Larry was involved with back in the city during the week, but his hedonist orientation on the weekends was unparalleled. One day we found out that his car trunk was filled with Leica cameras and Leitz lenses. All of this equipment was sitting in velvet-lined boxes and was worth a fortune. Stuff from the German Leitz factory was rare before the conflict and during the war nobody wanted to be anywhere near it. Larry never was seen taking a picture, and he professed to know nothing about photography. It was a sign of the times that false rumors began to circulate that Convertible Larry was a Nazi spy.”[1]


Freddy Zehndar


“Freddy was an impressive character who used to execute flat swan dives [into the surf]… in a couple of inches of water, to amaze the young lovelies,” recalled Don James. “He was an Olympic team swimmer during the 1920s, and he later worked as the head stunt diver on the [1970s] movie Jaws.”[2]

“Freddy Zehndar… was a newsreel cameraman for the Fox Movietone News in 1928, and he filmed the Panay incident, where the U.S. Marines fired upon a Chinese vessel. The resulting furor almost started a war. The Hollywood theatrical film The Sandpebbles was based upon the occurrence.”[3]


Jack Quigg


“Jack Quigg… was a superlative athlete,” wrote Don James. “Once at UCLA, Quigg was goofing around in the broad jump pit, when a football flew over from the adjacent field where the varsity team was working out. Jack was barefooted, and he kicked the ball in a perfect high spiral arc all the way to the end of the other field. It was a magnificent feat. The head coach came running over immediately and asked Quigg to come out and join the squad. Jack ignored the coach and uttered some undecipherable grunt and walked away. The coach was quite taken aback; here was this incredible prospect who wouldn’t even acknowledge his offer. We used to call Quigg ‘Indian Jack’ because he was so stoic; he never said much of anything.”[4]


Joe and Jack Quigg, 1932

Jackie Coogan


“Jackie Coogan was an actor who’d earned a fortune as a child star,” wrote Don James. “As an adult he had to sue his parents for misappropriation of his funds. He didn’t receive a lot, but because of his case, there are now laws protecting minors’ wages. Coogan was relatively philosophical about the fiasco, and he was able to live in the Malibu Colony, where he surfed regularly. Back then, Malibu Point was fenced off and there was no public access. Since Jackie’s house in the Colony was just a couple of hundred feet from the best waves in the world, he considered himself to be extremely fortunate. Coogan let us come up to his house and surf, and he remained a great guy despite the emotional rollercoaster he was on. In later years, when Jackie’s career had resurrected itself and he had become a highly recognizable star… we would laugh about those quiet times in the Colony…”[5]

“Jackie used to bring his wife, [Hollywood star] Betty Grable, with him to San Onofre, and she would complain constantly, saying things like ‘get me off this filthy beach.’ We were never sure what reception might await us when we walked through the couple’s Malibu Colony house on our way to SurfriderBeach. One day Coogan had sold all of Grable’s furniture without her permission and then used the proceeds to purchase a new Mercury convertible. Jackie’s transgression instigated a tremendous argument. He came out in the water to surf and said, ‘Well, boys, it looks like I’m going to have some extra time on my hands; I think I’ll chrome my new motor.’ I never saw Betty again,” wrote Don James, “except as a pin-up on other sailor’s foot lockers.”[6]


Eddie McBride


“McBride was a surveyor who bought a new Dodge every year on the second of January, like clockwork,” recalled Don James. “He possessed a lucrative contract from the federal government’s Geological Survey to take depth soundings along the entire coast. The fact that Eddie rowed a dory eight hours a day, five days a week, during the course of his work also meant that he was in phenomenal physical condition.[7]


Mary Kerwin Reihl (1912-2004)


Mary (Kerwin) Reihl – or “Mimi” as she was better known to her family and friends – was an early Californiafemale surfer. Born in 1912, Mary Kerwin was among the first generation of children from her family to be born and raised in Hermosa Beach. Her grand uncle, Bernard “Ben” Hiss, was an early real estate entrepreneur in the SouthBay area, who was on the original Board of Trustees that was responsible for incorporation of the City of Hermosa Beach in 1907. Her father, John Kerwin, emigrated from Ireland in 1905. After meeting Mary Emma Hiss in Hermosa and then marrying her, he started the family bakery business in Hermosa Beachin 1910.

Mary/Mimi was the second of nine children born at the family residence and bakery business on Pier Avenue, less than a half block from the beach. “You could spit out the window at the water, and that was our playground,” recalled Mimi’s brother Ted. She attended OceanViewSchoolin Hermosa Beach, which was located at the crest of the sand dunes, near the current location of Saint Andrew’s Episcopal Church on Monterrey Boulevard. Although the little town of Hermosa Beach was growing rapidly at the time, the town center and surrounding residential area essentially consisted of an expanse of sand that was the landward extension of the adjoining beach area. With the ocean as a backyard, it was only natural that Mary and her siblings would get into the ocean. She was a natural athlete, and although she was generally the only female surfing her home break, she didn’t feel particularly special or unique because that was just one of the family activities when you lived at the beach.

“We were born and raised with our feet in the ocean, all nine of us,” said Mimi’s sister Emma Halibrand. As kids, Ted Kerwin recalled, they rode waves on everything from belly boards made of scrap lumber to discarded wooden ironing boards before progressing to much larger and heavier paddleboards and solid-wood surfboards.

Mary graduated from Redondo Union high School in 1931, and married Ward Reihl, a Southern California Gas Company employee, three years later at Saint James Church in Redondo Beach.

In 1934, Mimi’s older brother John founded the Hermosa Beach Surfing Club, whose 14 original members included their brothers Joe, Jim, Fred and Ted. Mary, however, could not join. It was a strictly male organization, although she represented the club in contests.
When Riehl started surfing in the 1930s, the sight of a woman riding the waves was a rarity. “There were very, very few women surfers,” said Ted Kerwin. “It wasn’t the thing to do for many women.”

“She was the best I saw at that time, which wasn’t really that earth shaking,” said Mimi’s other surviving brother, Jim Kerwin, a resident of Oak View, near Ojai. “She just rode straight in; there were no fancy maneuvers like they do today.”

The gregarious Riehl -- “I always called her Molly-O because she was a typical Irish gal,” said brother Ted, adding that she loved all sports and was an avid tennis player. “She was in the middle of everything.”

Mary, her sister Emma and a few of the other local ladies represented Hermosa Beach in the women’s division of the surfing and paddling competitions during the 1930s and early 1940s. Although Mary and Ward’s daughter, Joan, was born in 1936, Mary continued to represent Hermosa Beach, and won the prestigious Pacific Coast Surfing Championship that was held in Long Beach in 1939.

Jim Kerwin still has the 12-foot, 65-pound paddleboard he made out of pine and quarter-inch plywood for Mimi in 1939. It’s the same board she used to win the Pacific Coast Surfing Championship in Long Beach. She also used it to compete in other contests, including the 1939 national paddleboard and surfing championship in Long Beach: She placed first in the women’s division for the quarter-mile national paddleboard championship, with a time of four minutes, 32 seconds.

Mary’s second child, Robert, was born in 1941, shortly before the departure of most surfers, including her five brothers, to serve during World War II. With the attention of the country directed to the war, the surfing scene in Southern California had a general hiatus for several years. Although Mary’s affection and family ties to the beach continued, her children and family became her primary focus and her surfing career was relegated to a past of pleasant memories.

Mary/Mimi continued to surf after her two children were born, but gave it up after World War II. Her nephew, Scott Kerwin, said that when quizzed about her early surfing days at family reunions, his aunt wasn’t much interested in the subject. “She was more interested in what was going on now than what was going on in the past,” he said.

Mary remained a “kid at heart” throughout her long life, and is remembered as never being far from a good time, which combined to make her a favorite with the younger generations of her large family and extended family.

In recognition of her “pioneer” status in the sport of surfing in Hermosa Beach, Mary was inducted into the Hermosa Beach Surfers Walk of Fame in March 2003, along with four of her brothers. At the time, Mimi was too ill to attend the ceremony, but Ted Kerwin said, “she thought it was fantastic.”

Mary/Mimi Kerwin Riehl passed away at the age of 91, on March 16, 2004.[8]



Still Others


There were other surfers around during World War II who had either achieved legendary status – like Pete Peterson – or would become – like Dave Rochlen:

“Nobody loved the ocean better than I did,” declared Rochlen in an interview done in the early 1960s. While serving in the U.S. Navy, “All through the war I slept on top of the deck with my fins in my pack and my arm through the pack straps. I figured if the ship got blown up, at least I might have a chance. All I want is half a chance – I might be able to last longer with fins – might even be able to take a couple of guys with me.”[9]

Manhattan Beach local Dale Velzy joined the Merchant Marines. At one point, while stationed in Guam, Velzy scrounged up some plywood and built a hollow paddleboard/surfboard. He paddled and rode it in Guam, Malaysiaand Australia. On one memorable night of darts, beer and Aussie “sheilas,” Velzy gave the board away.[10]

Another surfer wave-born in the 1930s and, like Velzy, would end up making a significant contribution to surfing was Jack Quigg’s brother Joe. Although not dramatic, Joe Quigg’s leave from military duty in the summer of 1944 put Quigg in contact with some of the key surfers who would end up affecting not only him but most all Californiasurfers by the early 1950s:

“I was in the Navy during the war,” retold Quigg, “and I came home to Santa Monica on leave that year. Right after I got home, I drove up to Malibuto surf, and though the waves were good that day, there were only three guys out. One was a guy with a withered arm named Bob Simmons, and the other two were kids named Buzzy Trent and Matt Kivlin.”[11]

Matt Kivlin had just been introduced to surfing by the husband of his mom’s sister. Preston “Pete” Peterson introduced the 14 year-old from Santa Monica to the wonders of Malibuon July 2, 1944.[12]

Peterson’s doings are especially worth noting. One instance was documented by Stecyk, about September 6, 1944:

“A ruler edged rolling seven foot south caresses the empty point [Malibu]. Pete Peterson gazes longingly at the surf through the barbed wire enclosure which surrounds the Malibu Point Coast Guard facility. This government base is guarded 24 hours a day and impenetrable. Peterson resolves to go elsewhere and turns to leave when he spies a lone surfer eagerly running up the point. Dale Velzy, the patriot, has somehow convinced the base commander to honor his merchant seaman’s papers as an access pass to the surf. Pete is incensed... after all, at least when Don Grannis surfed there he was stationed there... but this was an outrage. Peterson waves at Velzy and leaves laughing, admiring the Hawk’s superior artistry. Following his go-out, Dale manages to enjoy a sumptuous repast of roast beef and ice tea, courtesy of the base mess hall. Not bad in an era of severe rationing.”[13]

In recalling his beginnings as a surfer and a shaper, Velzy said, “One of the first surfboards I ever used belonged to someone I didn’t even know. I found it sitting along the side of someone’s house on 6th Street in Hermosa Beach. I used it every day one summer, until my dad, who was a lifeguard at Hermosa, agreed to help me make my own board.

“We lived next door to Hoppy Swarts and Leroy Grannis, two surfers from the thirties. My dad made my first board off the design of their boards. I was eight or nine at the time. Not long after he’d made it, I ran into the pier on it and split it down the center. In those days, this would happen quite a bit. We’d just glue it back together, bolt it and put a cork in over the bolt. After you broke these boards a few times, they got a little waterlogged, so you’d have to bring them in and reshape them. That’s what got me started shaping and designing boards. I became real interested in design, in making the boards work better, according to a person’s weight and style.

“Eventually, other guys started asking me to make changes to their boards. We didn’t have fiberglass then. We didn’t even varnish the boards. We’d get splinters, but we’d just take them out and keep surfing. It was a while before my dad would loan me his good tools to try my hand at shaping balsa wood. My best board was the second redwood I made for myself. I was in the Merchant Marines, and went off to the war in ‘44. I left my board with a friend, Ed Edgar, and told him that he was the only person who could ride it while I was gone. I came home to find out that someone had stolen the board.

“It took a lot of finesse to ride those old redwoods. They were like old Cadillacs on a freeway – a real smooth ride, and everyone got out of your way.”[14]





[1] James, Surfing San Onofre to Point Dume, 1936-1942, ©1996, p. 136. Don James written caption to image on p. 94.
[2] James, Surfing San Onofre to Point Dume, 1936-1942, ©1996, p. 124. Don James written caption to image on p. 32.
[3] James, Surfing San Onofre to Point Dume, 1936-1942, ©1996, p. 131. Don James written caption to image on p. 69.
[4] James, Surfing San Onofre to Point Dume, 1936-1942, ©1996, p. 124. Don James written caption to image on p. 34. See also other images featuring Jack Quigg and contemporaries.
[5] James, Surfing San Onofre to Point Dume, 1936-1942, ©1996, p. 124. Don James written caption to image on p. 36.
[6] James, Surfing San Onofre to Point Dume, 1936-1942, ©1996, pp. 128-129. Don James written caption to image on p. 58.
[7] James, Surfing San Onofre to Point Dume, 1936-1942, ©1996, p. 125. Don James written caption to image on p. 39.
[8] SurferMag Bulletin Board, 3/28/2004.
[9] Grissim, John. Pure Stoke, ©1982, Harper and Row, New York, p. 20. Dave Rochlen quoted.
[10] Young, 1983, 1987, p. 73.
[11] Lueras, 1984, p. 111. Joe Quigg.
[12] Stecyk, “Humaliwu,” 1992, p. 36.
[13] Surfer, Volume 33, Number 12. Researched by C.R. Stecyk, p. 40.
[14]  Noll, Greg and Gabbard, Andrea.  DA BULL: Life Over the Edge, by Greg Noll and Andrea Gabbard, © 1989.  North Atlantic Books, Berkeley, California.  Dale Velzy’s recollections, pp. 25-26.

SoCal After WWII

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In Europe, the Allies landed on the Normandycoast on June 6, 1944 to begin the push on to Berlin. Nearly a year later, on May 7, 1945, Germanysurrendered. “V.E. Day” ended all war in Europeon the following day.

Ending the debate amongst the Allies on endinb the war in the Pacific by having to invade Japan, the United Statesdropped atomic bombs on two Japanese cities in early August 1945. The Japanese government subsequently surrendered unconditionally on August 15, 1945. The world breathed a collective sigh of relief – followed by memorable celebrations. The total cost in human life during the five year period of Axis (Germany, Japan, Italy) attempts at world domination: approximately 35 million combatants, plus ten million Nazi concentration camp victims.[1]

What war’s end meant for many soldier surfers was the return to surfing itself. For their friends, it was the gradual return of their surf buddies to the lineups. Significantly, the end of World War II set the stage for technological advances in surfboard design and a gradually increasing stream of mainland surfers on surfari to Hawaii.

After World War II ended and the surfer servicemen “started coming back in late ‘45 and early ‘46,” Duke Kahanamoku recalled, “surfing once again took an upturn. But it was slow, for the military returnees were occupied with finding jobs or returning to their interrupted education chores.”[2] Many Southern California surfers went back to school on the G.I. bill.
  

Flood Control’s Demise


Along with human casualties, the Second World War resulted in the destruction of one of the favored surf spots of the 1930s – Long Beach’s Flood Control.[3]

“In a rush of patriotism, defense planning and commerce during World War II,” wrote Steve Barilotti in a 1997 issue of Surfer magazine, the Navy built a breakwater in San Pedro Bay, at Long Beach, “effectively choking off south-facing Long Beach from swell action and turning the once wave-rich waters of Belmont Shores into a placid, sometimes stinking harbor dotted with oil platforms thinly disquised with fake palm trees as tropical atolls.”[4]

Today, besides the fact there is no longer any surf at Flood Control, the area is high in pollutants. “One of the major problems is that the Los AngelesRiverempties out into Long Beach,” explains Long Beach Surfrider Foundation activist Robert Palmer. “The breakwater holds all the inland garbage and scum that comes down the flood-control channel. You go west of 55th Street toward downtown and the beach sand is marbeled with oil, Styrofoam, you name it. You don’t even want to walk on it.”[5]

From the 1910s and throughout the 1930s, Flood Control had been a prime spot for surf. In CaliforniaSurfriders, 1946, Doc Ball, surfing’s first dedicated photographer, wrote glowingly of the waves at Flood Control.[6] Doc was not the only one to hold Flood Control in high regard. His buddy LeRoy “Granny” Grannis loved the spot and explained:

“Flood Control was an excellent right that used to break where the Queen Mary is now on any good-size swell. It was rideable up to 15 to 20 feet. In September of 1939 we rode a huge chubasco-driven swell that was pushing over 15 feet. Ted Sizemore (an excellent surfer of the time and a Long Beach lifeguard) said that on a good south swell they had more rescues along parts of Long Beach than anywhere else on the Southern Californiacoast. But during the war we all went away and they built the breakwater. There wasn’t much we could do about it.”[7]

“The Army Corps of Engineers built the Long Beach breakwater from 1942 to 1949,” continued Barliotti, “to house the Pacific Fleet along ‘Battleship Row,’ south of Palos Verdes and north of Seal Beach. At two and a half miles, it is the world’s longest breakwater.”[8]



Malibu


During the 1940s, Malibubegan to be ridden on a daily basis. Within a decade it would eclipse all other Californiasurf spots as the epicenter of surf culture.

Before Europeans settled the area, the Chumash Indians had lived along the beach at “MalibuSurfriderBeach” for thousands of years. They called it Humaliwo, loosely translated as, “where the surf sounds loudly.” They were there in 1542 when Juan Cabrillo sailed his ships into the cove in search of fresh drinking water. He called the cove, “Pueblo de las Canoas,” village of the canoes. They were still there in the 1700s when the Spanish arrived and attempted to “civilize” them.

As for the first surfers to ride Malibu, it was in the year 1926. The riders were Tom Blake and Sam Reid; both lifeguards then, at Santa MonicaBeach. Back then, there were armed guards at the Rindge Malibu Ranch and Blake and Reid had to evade them in the process of breaking open the new surf break. There were a few others that came after them, but Malibuwas difficult to reach until the State of California opened the highway through the Rindge Ranch a few years later, in 1929, after a long fight with the owners.[9]

“The 1930’s brought surfers, but not many,” remembered Cal Porter. “If you didn’t want to surf alone you brought friends with you. My first experience there was in the late 30’s and five or so surfers at one time was a pretty good crowd, and that was on a good summer day with a decent south swell running. Early morning was best when there was no one in the water. The Adamson House was there on the point as it is today, having been built in 1929 for the daughter of the Rindge family and her husband. It is now a museum open to the public. The famous Malibu Wall where we leaned our boards was built in 1932 and is still there in part. It once ran almost down to the pier. The old two lane highway ran alongside the wall and is now a parking lot. 

The Malibu pier had been there since 1905, built as a shipping wharf. Before 1938 a surfer’s goal was to reach the end of the pier at the conclusion of the ride, but that took a very large wave. After 1938 that became impossible when the pier was extended to its present length of 780 feet. A storm in 1943 wiped out the end of the pier and it was rebuilt to what we see today. There were no businesses or restaurants near the area in the 1930’s. The Malibu Inn that has been across the street for so many years was at that time located on the old Malibu Road across from the Colony.”[10]

World War II made it difficult to surf Malibu. With reports of Japanese subs off the coastline, the U.S. Coast Guard established a headquarters in the pool house of the Adamson estate, and the pier was used as a lookout post. Barbed wire went up and the beach was under constant surveillance. Dale Velzy made it out a time or two but not many more did. Malibuwas blacked out at night with no house or car lights allowed. Long military convoys passed Malibu Surfrider almost daily.

At the end of the war in 1945, as many as ten surfers were seen in the water at one time. The crowd steadily increased and then in the mid-1950s “Gidget arrived and attendance soon after exploded. It increased so much that the State of California took over the beach and asked the County of Los Angeles to operate it. 
Before this time, life at SurfriderBeach was free and easy. You could camp and sleep on the beach, build shelters, light fires and cook dinners, rent out surfboards, drink a beer or two, and pretty much do as you pleased. What the surfers didn’t want was supervision, beach rules and a lifeguard. So there I was on June 11, 1959 assigned as Malibu Surfrider’s first lifeguard. I think the idea was that I knew a lot of the guys there, I was an older lifeguard by then, and maybe they wouldn’t beat me up, at least not too badly. But it all worked out, lifeguards have been there almost fifty years now, running a tight ship, and protecting the thousands of swimmers and surfers at one of the most popular beaches on the CaliforniaCoast.

“… The Point still faces due south and cranks out some of the best waves anywhere. A nice summer south swell works best, but first, second and third points are all ridden year around.”[11]

Craig Stecyk wrote of an incident that took place just before the outbreak of war. The particular moment at Malibu, October 5, 1941, tells a lot about the surfers there at the time:

“A confrontation is in progress. With only three guys in the water, Gard Chapin has forced the altercation over a drop in. This is typical behavior for Chapin, a gifted surfer, who turns and cuts alone in an era when almost everyone else trims. Gard’s verbose tactics alienate more than a few and his radical board designs aren’t really appreciated. One who wasn’t intimidated is Robert Simmons who bought his first surfboard from Chapin. Eventually, Bob went to work in the Chapin wood shop and there had his initial board building experiences. Other velocity-maneuverability standouts in those dark age days were Bud Morrisey and Dave Sykes. Morrisey contributed down-the-line shapes and was considered by many to be the first to walk the board at Malibu. Topanga dweller Sykes’ finely honed speed lines and turning were years in advance of others. Sykes delighted in perfect planing surfaces and placed 15 layers of hand rubbed lacquer over his boards creating a hard shelled outer surface many years before the discovery of fiberglass and resin. To this day, Chapin, Morrisey and Sykes occupy prominent spots in the Malibupantheon of innovators.”[12]
  

Pete After the War


Even though the war ended on all fronts, it took many servicemen a while before making it back home. For Pete Peterson, it took him over a half a year to return.

On the way back, at one of the islands the U.S.S. Pandemusvisited, Pete bartered for an outrigger canoe that he was allowed to keep on the fore deck of the ship’s cargo hatch. In his off-watch hours, when other crewmen relaxed in their bunks smoking, reading or playing cards, Pete would lower the outrigger overboard and sail around the various lagoons, diving and trading odds and ends to villagers in exchange for breadfruit and coconuts.

It took the U.S.S. Pandemus seven months to finally return to its homeport of New Orleans. Pete was discharged with $142.01 separation pay, of which $99.65 went to bus fare to get back to Santa Monica. Fortunately, his old job as Lifeguard Lieutenant on the beaches of Santa Monica was still waiting for him. Finding housing was a different story. With thousands of G.I.’s returning home before him, local housing was nearly nonexistent.

Captain of the Santa Monica lifeguards, Cap Watkins again came to his rescue. He offered the use of one of Santa Monica’s rescue boats so that Pete would not only have a place to stay, but also be able to bring his son John under his wing again. John, then eight years old, had been staying with family friends since 1943. Now, father and son reunited in a new home, albeit small. They had tiny berths in the rescue boat’s cabin, a tiny galley and showers at the lifeguard headquarters.

Even though gasoline was no longer rationed, automobiles, like housing, were hard to get. No matter, Pete was still able to score a clean 1941 Plymouth coupe. It did not take father and son long to utilize it to hit favorite surf spots and rekindle friendships amongst those who were lucky enough to make it through the war alive. When Pete got together again with Whitey Harrison, his surfing shifted more to the south, with San Onofre being a focal point. It was not long before Pete was surfing San Onofre with Whitey and his group on a regular basis on weekends when Pete and John could stay overnight.[13]

Pete eventually found a small house for himself and his son. Even though it looked like their lives and those of their friends were getting back to normal, there was no returning to the good old days of the 1930s. They had been lean years and ones where people often had to make do with what they had, but they were pristine years for surfing. The post-WWII period was markedly different than the pre-World War II era. The Depression was a thing of the past and its passing was understandably regretted by no one. But something of high intangible value was lost as the productivity fostered by the war continued unabated. The United Statesbecame not only the leading country on the planet, but also the richest. In California, this was clearly in evidence by the state’s population explosion and sprouting of buildings and highways everywhere. The spirit of the 1930s was replaced by a more materialistic culture that rode on the crest of an unprecedented period of prosperity.
  

Plastic Board, 1946


World War II had not only bread American prosperity, but introduced many new technological advances. One new wartime technology that would have a great impact on water sports was the development of “plastics” – specifically fiberglass, phenols, mono and polyester resins that had begun during the war and had already significantly aided the war effort. Pete found himself on the inside track of the use of these materials in the repair and making of surfboards due to his friendship with engineer Brant Goldsworthy.

Brant “had been a wartime aircraft parts sub contractor. Goldsworthy had developed a practical working knowledge about resins and fiberglass application and had been in touch with the marketing departments of chemical firms such as Owens-Corning, who had patented ‘Fiberglas’ (one ‘s’) in 1936, and Dupont’s chemical engineer Carleton Ellis, who had patented the first polyester resin the same year.”[14]

All over the country, large corporations like Owens-Corning and Dupont were converting their industrial facilities from wartime production into civilian. Market research indicated to Owens-Corning and Dupont that fiberglass and resin would sell the best to the building industry, commercial aviation, and the small boat industry.[15]

“Brant Goldsworthy is certainly the ‘godfather of fiberglass’ in the world,” attested Hobie Alter who, in the late 1950s, became the key man in the development of the polyurethane foam surfboard for mass production. “He is looked at as the ‘godfather’ of reinforced plastics.”[16] 

Goldsworthy and his partner Ted Thal would, a little later on, become the first ones to sell fiberglass and resin for surfboard construction.

Tom Blake protégé, champion paddler and legendary lifeguard Tommy Zahn said of the Brant Goldsworthy/Pete Peterson connection that Pete and Goldsworthy were more than just acquaintances. “Pete had been a lifetime friend of Brant Goldsworthy’s.”[17]

Pete recognized the potential for lighter boards using fiberglass. Before the war, he had made balsa boards to that end. These had to be coated with varnish to keep them from getting water-logged. Varnish, however, while flexible and organic, succumbs to ultra violet rays, breaking down in sunlight and lacking in tensile strength.[18] Not so with fiberglass and this is how Pete’s famous “Plastic Board” came about:

Working with Goldsworthy, Pete used a release coat on an existing paddleboard, laying up two halves in a clamshell configuration. They pulled the two parts off and used these to create a female mold. The subsequent male molds were then bonded to an inch-and-a-half redwood stringer, sanded and glass taped to seal the joint.[19] The seam was then sealed with fiberglass tape.[20] The result was the first hollow fiberglass paddleboard. Hollow board creator Tom Blake was so impressed he soon drew up board plans for “all fiberglass construction” of his own designs.[21]

Pete’s first fiberglassed board was constructed in June of 1946. Brant Goldsworthy helped and Joe Quigg ‑ along with Pete ‑ tested it out in the water.[22]

“Pete had two boards,” at the time he made his fiberglass paddleboard, recalled Tommy Zahn. “One was ‘The Pete Board’ and the other was this [prototype of the hollow fiberglass] board, which was redwood/balsa… It was just balsa wood with redwood rails. It wasn’t ‘The Pete Board’ ‑ which was balsa with a redwood deck. And this prototype, which was wood, was the one he used in big waves. He didn’t use ‘The Pete Board’ in big waves.

“And so, when the fiberglass first came out, he thought, ‘hey, it would be a real neat idea to reinforce the nose of all these boards with fiberglass’ and [he] started doing that. Then he covered the whole [prototype] board with fiberglass. Then, he said, Brant talked him into making an all-fiberglass board. So he used it [the redwood/balsa big wave board] for a male mold and pulled that – this board [the ‘plastic’] off that one; then, put a center dividing strip of redwood, here, and nailed it on and glassed over that. Then, the whole board was effectively fiberglass except for this dividing strip – you could see light through the whole board.”[23]

It is possible that the first fiberglass paddleboard or surfboard could have an even earlier start date. Twentieth Century surfing innovator Tom Blake told his biographer Gary Lynch that “Before the war [World War II] started… [noted swimmer Jim Handy] had sent a board back East and had it fiberglassed… that’s what Tom swears. I’ve asked him three times about it, cuz everyone says it couldn’t be true. But, he said that before World War II, Jamison Handy already had a fiberglass board. I don’t know why he’d tell me that if it wasn’t true.”[24]

Early surfboard shapers who used fiberglass – guys like Hobie Alter ‑ tend to dismiss this East Coast connection, maintaining that fiberglass was developed on the West Coast for the war effort. Sending a board back to the East Coast to have it fiberglassed would not have made any sense.[25] However, it is true that the Whitmans, in Florida, were early on into fiberglass. It is possible that they got a hold of some before the war, after it and resin were invented in 1936.

Irrespective of Pete Peterson being the first verified surfer to completely fiberglass a board, this innovation went virtually unknown among surfers of the day. Even Hobie Alter admitted, “I always thought [Bob] Simmons was the first guy to use fiberglass on a surfboard.”[26] Anyway, Pete did not produce further fiberglass boards in any number that would have been noticed.[27]
  

Whitey After the War


After the war, board experimentation and manufacture continued its shift from Waikiki to Southern California. Materials-wise, besides the addition of balsa, the innovation of the skeg and the introduction of new materials like fiberglass helped propel development. As far as shaping was concerned, the scoop nose and use of rocker had long term effects on improving board design.

The Hot Curl design had proven effective in Hawaiian waters, but not functional for non-reef breaks like most all of California. At one point, SoCal surfer and fisherman Whitey Harrison erroneously adopted the design for California waves. “A lot of guys – like Whitey Harrison – when they came down and saw what our boards could do at Castle him and Pete Peterson cut their tails down – right there on goddamn WaikikiBeach!” Hot Curl surfer Wally Froiseth told me. “They cut their tails down. Of course, when they went back to the Coast, they took their boards with ‘em.”[28]

In 1946, at age 33, Whitey married his second wife, Cecilia Yorba, who came from one of California’s pioneering Spanish families. Cecilia was “a descendent of the Yorba family that originally owned one of the largest Spanish land grants in old California,” wrote Whitey’s daughter from his first marriage, Rosie. “She lived with her grandmother in the adobe Pryor homestead one half mile inland from Doheny. When her grandmother died, the house, which was built before the San Juan Capistrano Mission, was willed to her along with some acreage. I remember first meeting her. I thought she was very beautiful…”

“The Yorba family had an inherent fear of the ocean,” continued Rosie. “Cecilia didn’t even swim when my dad talked her into going surfing with him. That first ride resulted in a wreck. She fell on the board and cut her lip with her front teeth. But it didn’t stop her. She and my father were married in 1946 and went to Hawaiifor their honeymoon. Where else?”[29]

Whitey recalled: “When I met Cecilia, she was walking down the beach at Doheny with her cousin, and I came ridin’ in on this board right to where she was standing. That had to be about 1945. She said, ‘That looks like fun.’ I said, ‘Yeah, you’ve gotta try it.’ So I spent a week talkin’ her into going surfing with me. She said, ‘Well, I don’t know, they’ve had such awful drownings in my family, nobody wanted to go near the ocean.’ So I said, ‘I’ve worked lifeguard for five years, I’m not gonna let you drown.’ A fella named Voss Harrington was surfing with me at the time I was going with her. We were in the abalone business together. Voss, Fritz and Burrhead worked abalone with me all up and down the coast of California... I talked her into coming over and helping trim abalone at the cove. Then I got her to go surfin’ with me at Doheny. Voss had this 11’ board. I caught a wave with Cecilia and he was on the shoulder and jumped off when he saw us coming tandem. I was standing up, and his board flipped right over, hit on top of her head and shoved her teeth through her lower lip. So that’s how we started. Since then she got so she could ride real good.”[30]

Whitey and Cecilia raised their family in the Yorba family’s historic 200-year-old adobe in San Juan Capistrano. The adjacent “Lorrin’s Barn” – built around 1890 – became an important Southern California “research and development center” for experimentation with various watercraft in the 1930s and more after the war. Experimental designs covered a broad range of equipment, included diving gear, paddle boards and outrigger canoes, as well as surfboards.[31]

“When I came here [to Capistrano beach] we kept horses in [the barn] for the kids,” Whitey recalled. “Later I converted it into a surfboard shop where Fly and I built two hundred and sixty rental boards for Steamboat over in Waikiki. I’ve probably built twenty canoes here altogether. I built five that were 44’-11’’ long, right here in the barn.”[32]
  

Doc Ball After the War


After the war, “It just kinda exploded, again,” Californiapioneer surfer John Heath “Doc” Ball said about Southern California surfing. “Guys’d get back and they’d been hungry for surf. It’d come natural that you’d want to get back… The ones who survived – we had an outlet and surf was it.”

“Thank goodness for that,” I said.

“You better believe it,” Doc affirmed.[33]

Surfer servicemen “started coming back in late ‘45 and early ‘46,” affirmed Duke Kahanamoku.[34]

“… when the war ended – Boom – we were back in the environment,” Malibu legend Dave Rochlen recalled. “It was devotion, like seeing a girl again… like, ‘I’m never gonna leave!’ We gave ourselves over to it entirely. I think it was because we spent four or five years in the war and we had survived. And it had all been bad. Now there was no question about what had us by the throat. It was the ocean. Everything else was secondary.”[35]

Doc Ball and his brood was just one of many families to regroup and attempt to restart life where it had been put in hibernation since 1941. Doc opened a dental office in Hermosa Beach and, rejoining his wife Evelyn, concentrated on raising their two sons, “Norman (man of the sea) and John (God has been gracious).”[36]

It didn’t take Doc long to get back to his surf photography, either. “Demand was still so great for Doc’s surfing photographs,” Doc biographer Gary Lynch wrote, “that he published the book, California Surfriders 1946. The idea behind this was to satisfy the Californiasurfers, giving many a portrait in the book as well as showing the major surfing locations.” CaliforniaSurfriders 1946 was first published in a limited edition of 510. “Original cost for the first edition,” Garynoted, “was $7.25 a book. Doc kept a complete and detailed list of who bought his book. This list still survives and provides an astonishing array of Who’s Who in the world of Californiasurfing at the time. Names only hard core surf historians would recognize such as Bob French and Jamison Handy to other more familiar names like Preston Peterson and Peanuts Larsen fill the pages.”[37]

Eventually, the fifth and final edition of California Surfriders 1946published by Doc went out of circulation. In 1995, Ventura’s Jim Feuling copied the original, publishing it under the title of Early California Surfriders.[38] The images used for this latest edition were shot from the pages of Doc’s first edition and then enhanced by computer.[39]

“He did that without my permission,” Doc admitted to me with a laugh. “That’s a classic. It’s patented. So, I told him as much as he’d printed it, we needed to get the message out for surfers, anyway, and keep it going [knowledge of the Californiasurf heritage]. And, so I said, ‘I won’t sue ya or anything.’ So, he sends me a royalty, now.”[40]That kind of reaction, on Doc’s part, was typical of the man. As surf historian Gary Lynch put it, Doc was the quintessential “troubadour of good will.”[41]

“By the mid 1940s,” Garywrote, “Doc Ball’s photographs had been published world wide. National Geographic (September 1944), Encyclopedia Britannica (1952), photography magazines, news magazines, art galleries, and newspapers were among the places a Doc Ball photograph could be found.”[42]

An example of this is an image Doc labeled “The Mighty Ski Jump Roars in – December 22, 1940.” It showcases one of the best surf days of the year. “Al Holland, Oshier, Grannis and Bayer riding the 30-foot grinders that arrive here on an average of twice a year and rattle windows over a mile inland with their heavy concussion.” Doc, writing in 1946 in the third person, added, “This picture published in an Australian magazine, made its appearance in far away Noumea, New Caledonia. Was discovered there by a very surprised Doc Ball.”[43]
  

Granny After the War


“Immediately,” after World War II was won, Palos Verdes Surfing Club standout LeRoy “Granny” Grannis recalled, “my first week back [September 1945], I went to Malibu. We were walking along the beach and looked out and saw probably around 12 guys out. I turned to the guy [I was with and said], ‘Jeez, the place is ruined.’

“Before the war, you’d call somebody before you went to Malibu because you didn’t want to surf alone… What we considered to be a crowd, back then, would be a beautiful day, today.”

“Our old club members got together,” after the war, Granny continued. “We all got together again. We all got married and we all had to have jobs. About once a month, we’d get together and have a poker party or something like that. A lot of the guys joined the San Onofre Surf Club [in the 1950s] and that became our common meeting point after that, for most of us – in the summertime, anyway.”[44]

Even though he now rode the SouthBayand San Onofre only on occasion and was, in essence, on sabbatical from surfing, LeRoy remained well known amongst SoCal surfers. As late as 1948, most all Southern California surfers still knew or knew of each other and surfboards were still pretty much of the redwood & balsa variety.

A case in point of how Granny was remembered by others even after the war was Greg Noll. In his autobiography Da Bull, Noll recalled, “When I first started surfing… there was Matt Kivlin and Joe Quigg riding redwoods at Malibu. Doc Ball and the guys at the Palos Verdes Surfboard Club. Velzy, Leroy Grannis, Ted Kerwin, the Edgar brothers at Hermosa and Manhattan. Lorrin Harrison, Burrhead and the guys at San Onofre. A few guys down in La Jolla. The entire surfing population consisted of maybe a couple hundred guys, most of them riding redwood boards, paddleboards and balsa/redwoods.”[45]

Another example of LeRoy’s status and regard is how he and Doc Ball were looked at by waterman Mike Doyle in the mid-1950s. Doyle wrote in his autobiography, Morning Glass:

“One of the older surfers down at Manhattan Pier told me about a book called California Surfriders by Doc Ball. It focused on surfing in the 1930s and ‘40s… I took Doc Ball’s book home and studied each picture for an hour at a time, scrutinizing each grain in the black-and-white photos, the way the water flowed over the board, the way the wave was breaking – every detail – until I could feel what it was like trimming across a wall of water. I studied each of the surfers’ styles, their hand movements, the way their feet were placed on the boards, and I came to understand that each surfer in that era ‑ Hoppy Swarts, LeRoy Grannis, Pete Peterson – had his own individual style.

“I saw that the surfers in the book had a wonderful camaraderie that I didn’t have in my own life. They were healthy and joyful, and they enjoyed being with each other. I could see a community spirit there that I wanted to be a part of.”[46]
  

Opai, Rocky and Yater


One of the surfer servicemen returning to formal education after the war was Tom “Opai” Wert. Born in 1924 and a founding member of the San Onofre Surf Club, Opai had gotten into surfing while body surfing with the newly-invented swim fins of Owen Churchill, at San O. At ‘Nofre, he saw “older” guys riding boards. He borrowed one and was soon hooked. His new love was interrupted when he was called up for military service. During his service years, 1942-45, Opai recalled that all he could think about was surfing. 

After the war, he moved to San Clemente and took advantage of the “GI Bill” by enrolling in OrangeCoastCollegein 1948. He went on to become a school teacher so that he would have enough time to surf.[47]
Many other surfers more or less dropped out after the war, opting to continue with their surfing at all costs.
One of this later crew was Dave Rochlen. On April 3, 1946, after serving as a Marine in the South Pacific, Rochlen showed up at Malibu and was particularly taken to a surfboard made by “some crippled guy named Simmons.”[48]

“He’s got a great attitude,” said Rochlen of Simmons, “— he calls everyone ‘fucking pussies.’” About Simmons’ board shapes, “Rocky” Rochlen noted, “There’s something different going on here, the guy talks about particulated molecular masses moving up the face of the wave.” At Simmons’ house, on June 15, 1946, Simmons showed Rochlen and Joe Quigg his 12th creation. It was a redwood and he credited influence from Gard Chapin and Bud Morrisey. On the way home, Rochlen commented to Quigg that, “Yes indeed, something remarkable is afoot.”[49]

“What fueled Rochlen’s, and others’, great passion,” postulated John Grissim in his book Pure Stoke, “was their new independence, and an unwillingness to drop back into a regimented social system. The stance was not angry, it was go-it-alone, laissez-faire, unconsciously romantic, and a bit escapist. But that life was based on a clear, clean, passionate vision that was attainable – as were the waves. Whenever and wherever the swell was up, there was always plenty of room.”[50]

One gremmie missing the war was Rennie Yater who, by the mid-1940s, was riding a Pacific Ocean Ready Cut Homes board. “I picked up one of those Pacific System Homes boards, probably – I’ll say ‘46,” recalled Rennie. “The board was the classic one with the nose blocks and red pine wood rails, balsa center – what they called the kettle bottom round, flat deck. Tiny little fin. The Swastika model they made was a little thinner board than that. It wasn’t as big and bulky. It was smaller, thinner. I didn’t see those until later.

“The guy that had that business surfed San Onofre, apparently, and had the ability to make those things, along with the house projects. I don’t know how many of those things they made. A hundred? Two hundred? I have no idea. A hundred boards then was a lot of surfboards.

“Then I started going down and riding Doheny. You know, my dad would take me down there. I had to make a rack on the back of the car to get it in there. He’d take me and this other kid who lived up the street. We’d go down there, right straight off. Probably did that for a couple of years... mostly in the summer, because the winter really didn’t have much surf there.”[51] 

Newport Beach, 1930-42


The post-war growth of Newport Beachwas typical of the changes that took place at all Southern California beach towns. Like other Southern California coastal towns, it had fared better than the rest of the country during the economic depression of the 1930s. “The Depression” had impacted Newport growth, but expansion of NewportHarbor had kept development more or less continuous.

Around 1931, the major effects of the stock market crash of 1929 started to hit Newport Beach. The area’s economy struggled to survive, with fishing being the mainstay of the community. A fleet of fishing boats operated from the protected harbor. Large plants on-shore prepared the fish for food or as fish oil or fertilizer.

Throughout The Depression, Newportmanaged to hold its famous Tournament of Lights parade. The parade had originated in 1908 when Venetian gondolier John Scarpa staged a small illuminated parade in NewportBay with eight canoes and his gondola. In 1919 the city took over the idea and created the much larger Tournament of Lights extravaganza.

A review of some selected press clippings from the decade give a first-hand look at what was going on in the 1930s, in Newport Beach. They have been edited from their originals:


Press-Telegram, February 19, 1930

RECEDING TIDE LEAVES SHIP HIGH ON SAND

“Forging through presumably open sea in a dense fog early this morning, the big British motorship City of Lille crashed onto the beach about two miles north of Newport Beach. Receding tides left her almost high and dry on the beach late this morning, with her crew of forty men aboard.

“Tugs were rushed to the scene from San Pedro, lines were attached and an effort was to be made to pull the big ship off at high tide this afternoon, but the hope of doing this without lightening the 10,000 ton cargo was considered slight.

“The big ship went aground at 3 a.m. on a wide stretch of sandy beach. Lights from oil field derricks at Huntington Beach may have confused the watch of the ship.

“The unusual sight of the huge vessel nosed into the sand of the shoreline attracted a large throng of spectators and the highway was jammed with automobiles throughout the day.”[52]


Press-Telegram, July 13, 1930

LONG BEACHCHAMBER WINS FIRST PRIZE IN TOURNAMENT OF LIGHTS

“Judged by six prominent members of the Laguna Beach art colony, Long Beach Chamber of Commerce won first prize in the civics class with its entry at the Newport Bay Tournament of Lights last night. The tournament was declared to be the most brilliant spectacle of its kind ever witnessed on the SouthCoast. One hundred and six floats, yachts and other craft took part in the parade and many other yachts and motorboats, decorated and illuminated, were at anchor in the background.

“The big water spectacle, the twelfth to be held in the history of the harbor and the largest ever held here, formed off Balboa Island and proceeded slowly toward the head of the bay in front of the Corona Del Mar bluffs, then turned and passed down the Balboa side of the bay to Newport Beach, thence doubling back to the ferry landing. The Tournament of Lights began as a small local event sponsored by the Newport Harbor Yacht Club. This year commercial floats were a new feature making the tournament the crowning aquatic spectacle of Southern California.”[53]


Press-Telegram, September 1, 1930

GROYNES ADVOCATED TO PROTECT OCEAN AND NEWPORT BEACH

“Installation of groynes along the oceanfront near Thirty-sixty Street to assist in building up the beach at that point is the only remaining objective of the West Newport Improvement Association.

“Six major objectives set up last year by this body have been completed. The group wished the West Newportpool improved and made into a park, which has recently been done. Streetlights have been installed in various portions of the district and many more year-round residents have been secured for the district.

“Two of the most important improvements achieved in the area have been the launching of a dredging program which will result in much of the swampy land in the area being filled and deeper channels made where boats may travel, and the cleaning up of the old oil wells and sump holes which for many years were a detriment to the district.”[54]


Despite the tough economic times throughout the country, Newport was still able to attract funds for development. A case in point was local businessmen George Rogers who took it upon himself to travel to WashingtonD.C. and lobby for federal funds to further dredge and improve NewportBay. He succeeded in getting all but $640,000 of a $1,835,441 harbor project. Back in OrangeCounty, Rogers and city engineer Richard Patterson convinced OrangeCountyvoters to finance the balance. On May 23, 1936 the new harbor opened. It is this continued work and realigning of the harbor entrance that effectively killed Coronado del Mar as a major surf spot in Southern California:[55]


Press-Telegram, December 31, 1930

NEWPORT BALBOA – BAYCITY OF THE SOUTHCOAST

“The 1930 season saw no depression in the NewportHarborsection. A new $200,000 harbor improvement was completed; a new $410,000 high school plant built on a fine 25-acre site in NewportHeights; a record-breaking $1,700,000 improvement project completed on Lido Isle, and modern development enterprises consummated in West Newport, El Bayo Balboa Tract and in other sections of the city. Building for 11 months of 1930 was $164,105 - greater than for all 12 months of 1929, which was $117,685 greater than 1928.”[56]


Press-Telegram, January 28, 1932

RECORD GROWTH IS MADE BY NEWPORTIN PAST TWO YEARS

“The NewportBay communities, in spite of the ups and downs of Wall Street in the last two years, have seen their greatest advancement in that same time. More building, real estate sales, homes, all-year residents, yachts and other pleasure craft in the improved harbor, school facilities, better highways and transportation facilities --- more of all things that make life worth while is the story of the Newport-Balboa area in the last two years.

“During the past year widening of the Coast highway from Long Beach to Newport Beachwas completed, within a year it is expected to be completed past the San DiegoCounty line.”[57]


Press-Telegram, January 2, 1934

NEWPORTBAY

“On December 19, 1933 the voters of the County carried a $640,000 bond issue, to be added to $1,195,441 to be supplied by the Federal Government to complete a $1,835,441 plan. This will provide a channel from the harbor entrance to the northwest corner of the bay, 20 feet deep at low tide and varying from 200 to 500 feet in width, a turning basin 15 feet deep at low tide, an anchorage basin of the same depth, and dredge the remainder of the entire bay to a depth of 10 feet at low tide.”[58]


Press-Telegram, May 20, 1936

NEWPORTHARBOR TO NOTE OPENING

“Headed by a picturesque Spanish adventure ship, a parade of more than 1000 yachts and pleasure boats representing all ports of the PacificCoastwill stream into NewportHarbor Saturday (5/23). The great parade of boats will enter the harbor on a signal received from President Franklin D. Roosevelt at Washington. A Coast Guard cutter will fire the signal guns, which will start the parade at 1 p.m. Two divisions of boats, one including small craft, cruisers and sailboats, and the other including big yachts will form the water caravan which will wend its way into the harbor.

“The Spanish ship San Salvadore, under command of Juan Rodriguez-Cabrillo, discoverer of California, and Vasco Nunez de Balboa, discoverer of the Pacific will anchor in the BalboaBasin. Aboard the boat will be Father Neptune and the royal court made up of the prettiest girls of twelve Southern Californiacities. City and County officials of Southern California communities and Governors of three States and Lower Californiawill board the boat and welcome Father Neptune to the port.

“A daylight fireworks display at 2 p.m., the firing of an official salute to Governor Frank F. Merriam at 3 p.m. and an official inspection tour of the harbor by the Governor will complete the afternoon program. Batteries of Army searchlights will illuminate the harbor district starting at 8 p.m. and at 9 p.m. a second fireworks display. the celebration will continue Sunday with another big parade of boats.”[59]


Press-Telegram, July 7, 1938

CAGNEY IS PURCHASER AT BALBOA

“One of the largest real estate transfers made here for some time took place yesterday when James Cagney, Hollywood motion picture actor, bought CollinsIslandfrom C.A. Price, Arcadiarace horse owner.

“Cagney, along with Preston Foster, Richard Arlen and other motion picture stars have been keeping their private yachts here for several years, but Cagney is the first of the top-flight stars to purchase property here.

CollinsIsland is one of the show places on the bay area. It was first built and owned by W.S. Collins, one of the original developers of BalboaIsland. Completely surrounded by water and with all of the lawn and shrubbery enclosed within a high wall, the island home is a complete villa with small cottages for guests.

“Price paid was said to be $45,000.”[60]


By the beginning of the 1940s, Newporthad her new harbor, three canneries on the Rhine (the arm of water between the Lido and BalboaPeninsulas), and the yachts of movie stars Errol Flynn, Humphrey Bogart, Dick Powell, James Cagney and Leo Carrillo. Soon World War II would come, beaching the dory fleet and confining yachting to the bay. At the end of the war there would be tremendous postwar expansion with housing developments such as Shore Cliffs and HarborHeightstaking over what vacant land still surrounded the bay.


Press-Telegram, January 2, 1940

NEWPORT-BALBOA DESTINY LINKED WITH NATURAL ADVANTAGES

“The destiny of Newport Beach is tied up with the natural advantages offered by the Pacific Ocean and land-locked NewportBay. Recognizing this fact, leaders now are busy, with construction of two new ocean piers at a total cost of $130,000.

“The city is divided by the bay and channels into seven different areas, all unique and presenting individual attractions, yet united into a harmonious civic unit with a central government.”[61]


Press-Telegram, February 11, 1940

BLIND PELICAN GETS FAT

“Fishermen built a fire on the sand near the Newport Pier, and they stood around the fire swapping stories. A big pelican was standing behind them and suddenly it started beating its wings and running on its tiptoes towards the fire. Just before it ran into the middle of the hot coals, one of the fishermen grabbed it by the wings and pulled it back.

“The pelican is named Bill and is completely blind. Some alleged sport demonstrated his marksmanship by shooting the bird through the head with a .22 rifle, severing its optic nerve. The pelican lay on the beach for three days afterwards and then it got up and started walking around, bumping into the little open dories that fishermen park on the sand near the pier.

“One of the fishermen gave the bird some fish and let it sleep inside his boat. The next morning it tried to fly away, but it flew against the front of a store building and fell down on the sidewalk.

“A pedestrian moved it back on the beach, where it sulked for a couple of days while all the dogs in the neighborhood took turns barking and snapping at it. Tom Phegley finally found the bird again, and he fed it and kept his eye on it. The pelican didn’t try to fly any more, but stuck pretty close to the fishermen’s boats near the pier.

“Phegley protected it from the dogs and the children whom kept throwing sand on it or trying to ride on its back. He built it a box to sleep in at night. It has become very fat and appears contented. It amuses itself on the beach without getting into much trouble. It can hear exceptionally well and comes when called.

“People are always wanting to take the pelican home for a pet, but Phegley tells them that Bill has to have his fish fresh, which means not more than a few hours out of the water. He refuses anything but whole fish, and likes mackerel weighing about two pounds. When the weather is too bad to go out fishing, the fishermen go over to the market when the big boats come in and buyfish for the pelican anyway.”[62]


Press-Telegram, April 13, 1940

MOVIE IS MADE AT NEWPORT

“Just as the man poised on the high mast of the Lottie Carson, ready to plunge down into the shallow water along the north bay shore, and everybody had a sinking feeling in the stomach waiting for him to dive, just then the man below yelled, ‘Hold it! We have to wait for the sun.’

“They were filming ‘The Sea Hawk,’ and the high dive in shallow water was part of the story. Two cameras were focused, one to catch the dive from the mast, and another to catch the splash in the water. Looking on were about 100 extras, 200 spectators, and Victor McLaglen, Frances Farmer, Olympe Bradna and Jon Hall, stars of the production.

“After the sun came out and the stunt man finally took the dive and came out unhurt except for a raw place on his chest where he scraped bottom, everybody on shore applauded. The palatial homes of the north shore of Lido Isle were in the background, but they will be cut out of the film.”[63]


Press-Telegram, October 3, 1940

NEWPORTNAVY BASE SITE TO BE INSPECTED

“Facilities of NewportHarbor for use as a possible base for secondary craft of the United States Navy will be inspected on Saturday. Local leaders long have argued that the local sheltered harbor is ideal for a secondary naval base for the southern coastal sector. Basing of submarines or patrol units of the fleet in these waters has been proposed as a huge possible future project.”[64]


Press-Telegram, October 17, 1940

NEWPORT MAY GET U.S. SUB BASE

“Establishment of a $30,000,000 United States Navy submarine base and training ship center at NewportHarbor was believed virtually assured. Newport’s upper bay, has long been discussed as a possible submarine and light craft base. The federal government a few years ago spent $2,000,000 dredging the main bay and constructing jetty protective works at the harbor entrance, and has since spent $15,000 or more a year on maintenance.”[65]


Press-Telegram, October 23, 1940

NEWPORTVOTES AGAINST NAME CHANGE; PROPOSED SHIFT TO BALBOA LOSES

“Proposal to change the name of the city of Newport Beach to Balboa was overwhelmingly defeated two to one in a special city election held were yesterday. Complete returns show unexpectedly heavy balloting with 1585 votes being polled. “No” votes totaled 1014, while the measure was favored by 581 Newport-Balboa folk.

“Proposal to change the name of the city to Balboa was made by Earl W. Stanley, prominent civic leader and chairman of Selective Service Draft Board 171 for this area. He circulated petitions, obtained approximately 1150 signatures and presented them to the City Council, resulting in a special election being called.

“Following the defeat of his proposition, Stanleymade a plea to residents and civic leaders of all sections of the city to co-operate and work for the progress of the harbor community under the name Newport Beach.”[66]


Press-Telegram, March 16, 1941

ACTORS TO BUILD

“Permits for the construction of summer homes for Richard Powell and James Cagney, motion picture actors, were issued today.

“Powell’s home will be of six rooms, and cost $7000, and be of wood-frame construction. The Cagney place is to be of five rooms, but of two story, and costing $8500. They will be adjoining improvement at the Bay Shore subdivision just off Coast Highwayand the north lagoon channel at NewportHarbor, directly opposite Lido Isle. Both actors are frequent visitors to Newport Beach, and Cagney maintains a yacht there.”[67]


Press-Telegram, October 16, 1941

PROFILE OF NEWPORT

“Owners of 250 Newport homes also have homes in Pasadena; 597 homes are owned by Los Angeles folk; 90 by San Marinas; 50 by Alhambrans; 98 by those of Riverside. A total of 2077 homes in this beautiful bay are owned by people who cannot vote here.”

“Now in the offing: a $10,000,000 NavalAcademy branch of Annapolis seems a certainty for location on the upper bay. More than $2,000,000 in contract for the Navy is now under construction at the South Coast Boat Works, where boats and minesweepers are being built. A program of the Orange County Harbor Commission calling for the expenditure of $548,000 for dredging and improvements in the bay area to care for pleasure craft.”[68]


Press-Telegram, April 3, 1942

NEW SHIPYARDLEASESLANDAT NEWPORT

“Acquisition of 12 acres of land with a 1500-foot frontage on NewportBay was announced by Standard Shipbuilding of Long Beach. This will bring to three the boat building companies working in the NewportHarbor area. Largest is the Hobbard’s South Coast Company, which has completed more than a million dollars in contracts and has just received another contract aggregating more than $1,000,000 for the construction of naval mine sweepers. The Reyton Company is preparing ways now on the bay from of the Coast Highway for the construction of wooden hulled ships, and it contract is supposed to reach near the half-million dollar mark.”[69]


Press-Telegram, April 10, 1942

NEWPORT GETS CENTER STRIP ON PENINSULA

“Acquisition of the Pacific Electric Railway Company’s right of way which bisects the BalboaPeninsula from McFadden Placeopposite the city hall to “Be” Street in Balboa is virtually complete. Only thing holding up the proceedings is the paying of $33,000 for the property by the city.

“A bond issue is expected to provide the money for the purchase and the center strip along Central Avenue, now just a sand trap. It will be partially paved with possibly a center parkway. Some time ago the traction company sold the city its steel poles which hold the street lights and removed all of its other overhead facilities along the right of way with the exception of a short switching track from McFadden Place to Court Street.”[70]

San Clemente, 1945-49


San Clemente was more typical of a Southern California beach town than Newport Beach, as it really did not experience sizeable developmental growth until after the war. A little over a decade later, it became best known in surfing circles as the center of the surf publication business.

“Ahh, San Clemente,” recalled local Vince Nelson. “Perhaps the intervening years have dimmed the past a bit, but it seems now that there were no winters then, only school and summers... We were lucky to live in little ‘ol San Clemente; post-war, pre-population explosion, pre-sexual revolution, before, during and after puberty in that kinder, gentler era.”[71]

Vince Nelson and the Severson brothers first rode the San Clemente pier area on Bud Gable’s inflatable mats – “‘Surf Tans’... that’s what was stenciled on them,” remembered Jim Severson. “We lived on those mats, and learned a lot about surfing as we went; angling, timing, shooting the green, turning back, shooting the pier. We put on a pretty gutsy show, but the pier fishermen weren’t our biggest fans. We’d be ducking lead weights, and worried about getting hooked.”[72]

“Just as I saved for and dreamed of my first pair of Churchill’s,” recalled Nelson, speaking of the early swim fins, “I lusted for my own surf mat. In the meantime, we all took turns (working) at the rental concession so we could use the mats. No money was exchanged (since we had none). We would pump those beauties up to the limit to get them hard enough to kneel and stand on. They had an odd seam-busting defect in that one chamber would break and then the mat would have a fat side to it. Lousy for surfing, but the tourists didn’t seem to mind too much (we were off sliding on the hot one’s). The staff was in the water more than in the concession, and Buddy complained there were not enough mats for the cash customers.”[73]

“We discovered S.C. in a great kid way,” Jim Severson said. “You could walk anywhere. There were trails across fields, through eucalyptus-lined canyons and up and down the bluffs to the beach...

“Bikes were kind of scarce right after the war. Some of us had them, but it was often simpler to walk because of the difficulty of getting bikes through the canyons. Bob Sickafoose used to ride his bike to school; missed the 2” x 8” bridge at the bottom and sung the crossbar blues for a few days. Ouch! Also, we were big on throwing rocks. Just throwing to see what we could hit. I don’t want to say exactly what we threw at because there might still be a few unsolved cases. We weren’t bad, but everything was magnified because it was such a small town. The cops loved us because they tired of just writing traffic tickets. Bruce “Red” Crego was famous for giving tickets to anyone, regardless of status. His favorite time was Del Mar Racing season when he took great joy in nailing speeding stars. They named him ‘Red Rider.’ He was also the juvenile watchdog. He hated Walter Ryan and me because we built a tree house right over the spot he used to park with a certain local schoolmarm. Then there was the time a big dog was hit by a car and was flopping in the road. Walt and I watched as Red Rider came flying up, siren screaming, and as city pound master, pulled his revolver to dispatch the poor creature. ‘Stand back, stand back!’ he ordered. Point-blank he shot and missed three times, before a lucky shot mercifully ended it for the pooch. We spread the word of ‘sure-shot’ all over town, further endearing ourselves to him. But somehow, we felt a lot safer after that.”[74]

“The pier; fishin’, swimmin’, bodysurfin’, surf mats and exposure to the lifeguards and surfing dentist Barney Wilkes, and proximity to the surfing beaches led us on the natural progression to becoming Surf Kings. (Or was it beach bums?),” remembered Vince Nelson.

“When the surf was good,” added Jim Severson, “we’d get one of our girl friends to watch the concession while we matted. We had fun with anything that floated.”[75]

“There were other kids in our gang,” added Jim Severson. “Early on it was Walter Ryan, Jim Coberly, Larry Jones, and later, Terry (T-Street Terry) Miller, Ted Tafe, Bill Taylor, Tun Morgan, Tony Forster and the crowd slowly grew.”

“Before we could easily get to the surfboard meccas,” noted Jim’s brother John, “we started making plywood bellyboards. They were about 2’ x 3’ with rounded noses, varnished and usually had some distinctive painting. Mine had a surfing gorilla. They would rip, compared to mats...”

“As we got older,” Jim Severson said, “we needed more money to support cars and girl friends, and got jobs washing dishes and pumping gas, but the ultimate was... LIFEGUARD! Surfing lifeguards, with an emphasis on the surfin’. But it was to be years before we ever had a cash surplus again.”[76]

“Surfing was on my mind from the moment my sister Jane took me to San Onofre with her date Tom ‘Opai’ Wert, and I saw how gods walk on water.” Jim Severson continued. “Before we could drive, it was tough getting to Doheny and San Onofre where we could learn. We’d hitch or get a lift and then borrow a board, usually the worst ‘dog’ on the beach. Doheny lifeguard Dave Tansey was one of our main sponsors. His redwood-balsa weighed over 100 pounds and we probably didn’t. Dave taught us to stand the board up and then lean it back into the cradle of our arm, resting on our shoulder. We could get it there but then couldn’t lift a leg to walk. We’d just sway awhile until we sunk, dodging the falling board. We ended up dragging it to the water.

“You’d paddle like mad and pretty soon the board would start moving. Same with catching a wave. To get an angle, I’d stick an arm and a leg in the water, drag into a turn, and then stand and ride for the green. At the end of the wave, we eventually learned how to turn.”[77]
  

DanaPoint


Another favorite surf break in the 1940s was DanaPoint, “California’s premiere big water spot,” according to Don James. “Later DanaPointwas commercially developed in concert with governmental agencies. The effects of this alteration of coastline are still being felt. Extreme shoreline erosion, storm surf property loss, severe pollution, and the virtual disappearance of the local fishing industry are only a few of the results. The point was named after author Richard Henry Dana, who immortalized the place in his book Two Years Before the Mast. Interestingly, Dana’s documentation of the early Californiahide trade, makes reference to an adobe-walled structure that is located near the break. This house is the ancestral home of the family of Cecilia Ortega,” who married Lorrin Harrison. The pioneer surfer and his Spanish land grant descendant lived together there for many years. Above where Lorrin built canoes and surfboards there hung in the overhead rafters, old cow hides, which dated back to the time of Dana.[78]

“Killer Dana was one of the greatest big wave spots on the West Coast. The combined talents of the Army Corps of Engineers and a contingent of Orange County developers reduced this majestic natural wonder into a permanently stagnant pond in just a couple of months. The Dana name lives on at the boat harbor, but this perversion of commerce bears no resemblance to the incredible original resource.”[79]

Before that section of coastline was reworked, a memorable moment was written down by Don James:

“We were down south filming an ‘Unsung Heroes’ motion picture short with Pete Peterson. Pete was out diving for the crew’s dinner while we surfed. Before the building of the pier and harbor, DanaPointwas a great abalone site. Peterson was an incredible fisherman and no great conservationist. He used to take hundreds of abs a day from San Clemente reef week after week. I’m ashamed now that we didn’t know any better, but there wasn’t anyone around to tell us not to decimate the lobsters, abalones, and fish except for the Fish and Game Department wardens, and we used to elude them.”[80]
  

San Onofre, 1946-47


Throughout the 1930s, San Onofre had been the beach party spot, encouraging loner surfers and others who did not go in for the formality of belonging to a surf club, but still appreciated camaraderie as well as San O’s waves. Ned Jacoby was around when more formal efforts were made to secure San Onofre as a surf spot, circa 1946-47:

“In the years during WWII,” recalled Jacoby, “I was in the USAAF, living in Laguna Beach… and surfing at San Onofre whenever I had the chance. After the war ended – and still living in Laguna Beach– I surfed at San Onofre a lot. Mostly with Thayer Crispin and Ralph Kinney. Occasionally with George (“Peanuts”) Larson. Some of the regulars like Lorrin Harrison, Eddie McBride, Jim (“Burrhead”) Dreever, Opai and Fritz (“McGitz”) Watson, I knew, but not well. I wasn’t that good a surfer and they were pretty much our models.

“Back then, when you drove in to San Onofre you turned off the Coast Highway, crossed the railroad tracks by the old train station, turned left  and drove past a little shack before driving on down the dirt road to the grass hut – the area now called ‘Old Man’s.’

“There was usually a guy in the shack who would ask for something like a 50 cent entry fee. Sometimes he was asleep, drunk or both and we’d just drive by without paying. Nobody seemed to know who he represented or how he got there.

“However, when the war ended the Marines began to get more organized at CampPendleton. Then, one day there was a Marine enlisted guy in the shack. He wasn’t very friendly and wanted to know what we were doing there before reluctantly letting us pass. It seemed like a warning sign. If we didn’t do something soon it looked like we might shortly get closed out of ‘our’ San Onofre beach as simply a liability nuisance to a huge military reservation.”[81]

“Finally I decided to chance putting in a call to the Commanding Officer at CampPendleton– the legendary General ‘Howlin’ Mad’ Smith. After hearing why I was calling, General Smith’s aide-de-camp gave me an appointment to come out to Pendleton and present the case for continuing to use our San Onofre surfing spot.

“George Larson and I collected a folder of news articles and photos about San Onofre surfing and we drove out to CampPendletonto meet the colonel who was Gen. Smith’s aide. We didn’t get to meet General Smith but the colonel gave us at least a good half an hour. To our surprise he understood the situation immediately and was very interested. It turned out the Marine staff had no knowledge of surfing at all and didn’t realize why that particular location at San Onofre was so special and what a long surfing history it had. Nor what it meant to so many people.

“We heard nothing for several weeks. Meanwhile the rutted dirt road leading down to the grass hut had become almost undriveable. Run-off from the bluff canyons had cut deep into the road in several places. Surfers placed logs and boards to bridge the shallow ditches but the car tires were constantly slipping off and getting stuck.

“One morning we drove down prepared to negotiate the ditches and discovered to our surprise that the road was now beautifully scraped and filled! Not only that but the Marine at the entrance shack cheerfully waved us through.

“Eddie McBride was at the shack already and we asked him what had happened. Eddie told us that a few days earlier several Marines in a jeep had driven up and asked them where they wanted the road to go! The road scrapers got to work immediately! Then, a few weeks later the Marines extended the road and built some small beach huts maybe three hundred yards south of our grass hut. Soon Marine officers started to use the huts for a beach headquarters and some of them even began learning to surf – with help from the San Onofre regulars.

“Because of having to finally start work in Los Angeles that was the last I saw of San Onofre for many years. I never knew the early days when the San Onofre Surfing Club was formed; who the guys were who put it together, how it was done or whether the Marines were part of the deal. Still, I like to think that the visit we had with General Smith’s aide that day… kept us from getting fenced out then and might even have helped lay the groundwork for the future club’s acceptance.”[82]
  

Hot Curl Surfari, 1947


At the VenturaCountyMuseumthere is an archive of photos taken by Maliburesident John Larronde from the 1930s to the 1950s, and from San Onofre to Ventura. One of the photos shows George Downing, Russ Takaki and Wally Froiseth standing in front of their surfboards, on the beach somewhere. The boards all look to be under 10 feet, with pointed noses and outlines that have a hint of modernity.

When George Downing saw the photo in Hawaii, he had a good story: “Okay that was in 1947, I am positive. Me and Russ and Wally sailed from Honolulu on a Trans Pac yacht. We ended up in San Diegofirst, and got good waves at Windansea and those places. We bought an old car and headed up the coast and we also got good waves at Malibu. The board I am standing with, that was Pepe and one of my favorite boards. I rode that on a good day at Malibu and ran into the pier. I dinged the nose of my board and was pretty upset because I didn’t think it could be fixed. I got to the beach and saw Bob Simmons there and he said he would fix my board. I said, ‘How you gonna do that?’

“And that was the first time I saw fiberglass and resin.”[83]

This surf safari ran in the opposite direction of most trans-Pacific trips. “Switching the pattern that had developed over the previous 30 years or so of Mainland surfers coming to Hawaii– Wally Froiseth, George Downing and Russ Takaki took a surf safari to the mainland. Dates for this event vary from 1947 to 1948 and 1949, depending on who is remembering. Irregardless of the year, as Wally put it, ‘We made kind of a sensation with our boards.”[84]

The Hawaiians arrived by sailboat, crewing from O’ahu to San Diego, then bought a Model A Ford and surf safaried between Windansea, and Santa Cruz.[85]

“Wally, George Downing and myself,” took the trip, explained Russ Takaki, “and there was two other guys and the skipper and a cook.[86]

“We didn’t sail back. I didn’t have that long of vacation. It took 15 days to sail out to San Diego and then we – ah, um – we had our sleeping bags and we bummed up and down the coast a couple of weeks, maybe more. Then, we had to fly back.”[87]

The three hot curl surfers renewed friendships with Pete Peterson, Whitey Harrison and Doc Ball. They also met Bob Simmons, Matt Kivlin, Dave Rochlen, Buzzy Trent and others. While at Malibu, the waves were unseasonably small and the water colder than usual. Pidgin parlance summed it up: “It no wave sho ‘so no can go.”[88] Russ, in his modest manner, not wanting to put the Coast waves down, merely described: “Fair surf at Windansea and a little bit at Malibu.”[89]

“Just imagine,” Russ shifted from waves to water. “When Wally, Geo’ge Downing and I sailed dat yacht to San Diego, we never had any wet suits. Nobody had wet suits. At that time. And, you know, with our redwood boards – you know, they didn’t float that high [off the surface of the water]. But, when you’re young, you know, you don’t mind that much. Never freezing, but we got to shivering.

“... the fellas would build a bonfire on the beach. Throw old discarded car tires [on the fire]. And they got to stink, but – anything to keep warm!”[90]

Wally Froiseth had a number of classic photographs taken of this trip that can be seen in Nat Young’s History of Surfing.[91]I asked Russ about some of the other surfers I saw in Wally’s photos.

“We got off [the yacht] and got to know all the guys who surfed,” Russ said about who the Hawaiians hung out with. “After all, we slept on the beach.”

“You could do that in those days,” I said.

“Yeah, those days nobody bothered [you].”[92]

“Several of the Californiasurfers,” Russ added, “would trace our boards on large sheets of paper and did a fair job of imitating our boards.”[93]

Adding to Russ’ recollections of the Mainland trip, Wally Froiseth mentioned they had gotten to see Doc Ball and stirred up a lot of interest among Californiasurfers to go Hawaiian.

“Yeah, well, see, after we made this trip to the Coast,” Wally told me, “guys started comin’ down, little by little; send pictures back and go back with stories of their own. At one point, I got a letter from [Pete] Peterson. He writes me, telling me, ‘Hey, Wallace, this guy here says you guys are out surfing Barber’s Point in 60-foot waves – that right?’”[94]

Wally said the waves of mainland surfers coming over to O‘ahu were welcomed warmly, but that some of the new breed “lacked aloha,” meaning that the kind of brotherhood the Hot Curl and Waikiki guys had shared together was not automatically adopted by the visitors. Wally gave me an example of food. Where he and the Tavern People would share whatever food they had with anyone, that wasn’t always the case with some of the Coast Haoles who came after 1948.[95]

Another thing Wally brought up was ego.

“Well, this one guy [from the Mainland] – what happens, see – he came down to the Tavern, there. We’re all sitting down in my little junk car. We’re talking about, ‘Oh, tomorrow, we’re going out. NorthShore’s supposed to be big... Makaha, too, might be big.’

“So, he says, ‘Hey – ‘

“You know – he’s a neat guy, now, but at that time – he said he’s ‘the best up the Coast’ and all that kind of stuff.

“‘Good, I’d like to see.’ Maybe we could learn something from this guy.

“‘When you guys going?’

“‘We’re going tomorrow. You wanna go? Be down here 6 o’clock in the morning and we take you out.’

“So, we did. Next day, we took him out. We’re going to Makaha, but we look at Barber’s Point. Sobeautiful, so glassy and the waves were just so beautiful. ‘Hey, let’s check this out!’

“So, Woody Brown, Georgie, me and a couple of Hawaiian kids who were kinda small at that time... we go out there. We go by the lighthouse; paddle out. After we got out, we paddled way down to get the biggest peak. But, they started to get bigger and bigger and bigger. By and by, we kept getting moved back closer to where we were when we started. It was beautiful! Just glassy, just so perfect. They were so big, that we were taking off on different ends – long peaks – and you’re just passing each other in opposite directions.

“And this guy, he never caught one wave! He just sat there! Couldn’t believe it!

“So, he’s the guy who talked to Peterson. They were big, but 60-foot? Nowhere’s close.”[96]

As previously mentioned, George Downing has their trip as 1947 and Russ Takaki stated it was in 1949. Most historians cite 1948. I favor Downing’s date.[99]





[1] Grun, 1991, p. 524.
[2] Kahanamoku, 1968, p. 45.
[3] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. “Redwoods, Hollows & Redwood Combos.”
[4] Barilotti, Steve. “Casualty of War,” Surfer, Volume 38, Number 8, August 1997, p. 54.
[5] Barilotti, 1997, p. 54. Robert Palmer quoted.
[6] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. “Redwoods, Hollows & Redwood Combos.”
[7] Barilotti, 1997, p. 54. LeRoy Grannis quoted.
[8] Barilotti, 1997, p. 54.
[9] Gault-Williams, LEGENDARY SURFERS Volume 2: Early Twentieth Century Surfing and Tom Blake, ©2007.
[10] Cal Porter blog post, August 25, 2008.
[11] Cal Porter blog post, August 25, 2008.
[12]Stecyk, C. R., Sufers Journal.
[13] Lockwood, 2005-2006, p. 59.
[14] Lockwood, “Waterman Preston ‘Pete’ Peterson,” 2005-2006, p. 62.
[15] Lockwood, “Waterman Preston ‘Pete’ Peterson,” 2005-2006, p. 62.
[16] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Telephone interview with Hobie Alter, October 10, 2001.
[17] Lynch, Gary. Interview with Tommy Zahn, 27 July 1988. Tommy Zahn quoted.
[18] Holmes, Paul. Dale Velzy is Hawk, © 2006 by Paul Holmes, p. 50. Pete’s first balsa dated as 1936.
[19] Lockwood, “Waterman Preston ‘Pete’ Peterson,” 2005-2006, p. 62. See also“The Malibu Board,” and “From Wood to Foam,” chapters in the LEGENDARY SURFERS collection.
[20] Young, 1983, p. 61.
[21] Lockwood, “Waterman Preston ‘Pete’ Peterson,” 2005-2006, p. 62. See also“The Malibu Board,” and “From Wood to Foam,” chapters in the LEGENDARY SURFERS collection.
[22] Young, 1983, p. 61.
[23] Lynch, Gary. Interview with Tommy Zahn, 27 July 1988. Tommy Zahn quoted.
[24] Lynch, Gary. Interview with Tommy Zahn, 27 July 1988.
[25] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Telephone Interview with Hobie Alter, October 10, 2001.
[26] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Telephone Interview with Hobie Alter, October 10, 2001.
[27] Gault-Williams, LEGENDARY SURFERS Volume 3: The 1930s, ©2012. Chapter on Pete.
[28] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Wally Froiseth, April 3, 1996. This section on Whitey primarily drawn from LEGENDARY SURFERS Volume 3: The 1930s.
[29] Clark, Let’s Go, Let’s Go!© 1997, p. 24.
[30] Stecyk, The Surfer’s Journal, Winter 1993-94, p. 38.
[31]Surfer, Vol. 35, No. 1, January 1994, p. 30.
[32] Stecyk, The Surfer’s Journal, Winter 1993-94, p. 42.
[33] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[34] Kahanamoku, 1968, p. 45.
[35] John Grissim, Pure Stoke, 1982, p. 20. Dave Rochlen quoted.
[36] Lynch, Gary. “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989. Also Doc’s Notes on the Draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[37] Lynch, Gary. “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990. In his Notes on the Draft to this chapter, Doc noted about the $7.25 price: “hardback, yet!”
[38] Ball, John “Doc”. Early California Surfriders, 1995, reissued California Surfriders 1946, 1946, 1979. Published by Jim Feuling, 1995, Pacific Publishing, 2521 Palma Drive, Ventura, California 93003.
[39] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Surfing, Volume 32, Number 10, October 1996, p. 64. Book review.
[40] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[41] Lynch, Gary. “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[42] Lynch, Gary. “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989. The NG piece ran eight pages, entitled “Surf-Boarders Capture California,” September 1944.
[43] Ball, 1946, 1979, 1995, pp. 52-53.
[44] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with LeRoy Grannis, Carlsbad, California, 26 June 1999.
[45] Noll, Greg. Da Bull, p. 93.
[46] Doyle, 1993, pp. 26-27. See Gault-Williams, “Doc Ball, Father of Surf Photography.”
[47] Crawford, Carin. “Waves of Transformation.” Internet Paper focusing on Southern California’s surf culture in the post-World War II period. URL:  http://facs.scripps.edu/surf/wavesof.html..  See also carin_crawford@qm.salk.edu. Opai is currently an instructor of American Government courses at Orange Coast College.
[48] Stecyk, Craig. Surfer, Volume 33, Number 12, p. 41.
[49] Stecyk, Craig. The Surfer’s Journal, Volume 1, Number 3, p. 41.
[50] Grissim, 1982, p. 20.
[51] Gault-Williams, interview with Rennie Yater, March 24, 1994.
[52]Press-Telegram, February 19, 1930.
[53]Press-Telegram, July 13, 1930.
[54]Press-Telegram, September 1, 1930.
[55]Gault-Williams. LEGENDARY SURFERS Volume 3: The 1930s.
[56]Press-Telegram, December 31, 1930.
[57]Press-Telegram, January 28, 1932.
[58]Press-Telegram, January 2, 1934.
[59]Press-Telegram, May 20, 1936.
[60]Press-Telegram, July 7, 1938.
[61]Press-Telegram, January 2, 1940.
[62]Press-Telegram, February 11, 1940.
[63]Press-Telegram, April 13, 1940.
[64]Press-Telegram, October 3, 1940.
[65]Press-Telegram, October 17, 1940.
[66]Press-Telegram, October 23, 1940.
[67]Press-Telegram, March 16, 1941
[68]Press-Telegram, October 16, 1941.
[69]Press-Telegram, April 3, 1942.
[70]Press-Telegram, April 10, 1942.
[71]The Surfer’s Journal, “Sentimental Journey,” A recollection of growing up in the late forties and early fifties by the “San Clemente Surfers,” Jim and John Severson and Vince Nelson, Volume 4, Number 3, ©Fall 1995, p. 92. Vince Nelson quoted.
[72]The Surfer’s Journal, “Sentimental Journey,” Fall 1995, pp. 92-93. Jim Severson.
[73]The Surfer’s Journal, “Sentimental Journey,” Fall 1995, p. 93. Vince Nelson.
[74]The Surfer’s Journal, “Sentimental Journey,” Fall 1995, p. 94. Jim Severson.
[75]The Surfer’s Journal, “Sentimental Journey,” Fall 1995, p. 95. Vince Nelson and Jim Severson.
[76]The Surfer’s Journal, “Sentimental Journey,” Fall 1995, pp. 96-97. Vince Nelson, Jim and John Severson.
[77]The Surfer’s Journal, “Sentimental Journey,” Fall 1995, p. 97. Jim Severson.
[78] James, Surfing San Onofre to Point Dume, 1936-1942, ©1996, p. 132. Don James written caption to image on p. 71.
[79] James, Surfing San Onofre to Point Dume, 1936-1942, ©1996, p. 132. Don James written caption to image on p. 73.
[80] James, Surfing San Onofre to Point Dume, 1936-1942, ©1996, p. 132. Don James written caption to image on p. 72.
[81] Emai from Ned Jacoby to Spencer Croul, October 7, 2003. Lorrin incorrectly spelled “Loren” in the original.
[82] Emai from Ned Jacoby to Spencer Croul, October 7, 2003. The story of the San Onofre Surf Club and the preservation of San O as a surfing spot is continued in Volume 5 of LEGENDARY SURFERS.
[83] Marcus, Ben. Interview with George Downing, date unknown but sometime around 2010. George was so adamant about the date, that I have gone from 1948 to 1949 (Russ’s recollection) to 1947. Makes sense that this began the “Coast Haole Migration.”
[84] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Wally Froiseth, April 3, 1996.
[85] Young, Nat. The History of Surfing, Palm Beach Press, Palm Beach, NSW, Australia, ©1983, p. 67. Lueras has Woody Brown in this group, but by Woody’s own recollections to this author he didn’t return to California after 1940 until 1993. See also  Stecyk, C.R.  The Surfer’s Journal, Volume 1, Number 3, p. 54.
[86] Stecyk and Pezman, “Rabbit Kekai -- Talking Story,” 1994. Steve Pezman has this event in “the postwar late 1940s,” in a special “Surfer Style” issue of Surfer magazine, 1983.  Noted in Lueras, Leonard.  Surfing, The Ultimate Pleasure, Workman Publishing, New York, NY, ©1984, p. 117. Lueras has Pezman as one of the early Californians to venture over. In the Surfer article, Pezman refers to himself the same way, writing, “They tasted Malibu as we had tasted Castles surf.”
[87] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Russ Takaki, March 16, 1997.
[88] Stecyk, C.R. The Surfer’s Journal, ©1992, Volume 1, Number 3, p. 54.
[89] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Russ Takaki, March 16, 1997.
[90] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Russ Takaki, March 16, 1997. Russ remembered the year of the trip as 1949.
[91] See Young, 1983, pp. 66, 67 & 72.
[92] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Russ Takaki, March 16, 1997.
[93] Russ Takaki, in notating the draft of the interview, July 1997.
[94] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Wally Froiseth, April 3, 1996.
[95] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Wally Froiseth, April 3, 1996.
[96] Gault-Williams. Interview with Wally Froiseth, April 3, 1996.
[97] Stecyk, C.R. The Surfer’s Journal, ©1992, Volume 1, Number 3, p. 54. Russ told me he remembers it as “around’ 1949,” but was very specific, when correcting my draft of the interview, that it was 1949.
[98] Stecyk and Pezman, “Rabbit Kekai -- Talking Story.” Pez has this event in “the postwar late 1940s,” in a special “Surfer Style” issue of Surfer magazine, 1983. Noted in Lueras, Leonard. Surfing, The Ultimate Pleasure, Workman Publishing, New York, NY, ©1984, p. 117. Lueras has Pezman as one of the early Californians to venture over. In the Surfer article, Pez refers to himself the same way, writing, “They tasted Malibu as we had tasted Castles surf.”
[99] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Russ Takaki, March 16, 1997.

TOM BLAKE: The Uncommon Journey of a Pioneer Waterman

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TOM BLAKE: The Uncommon Journey of a Pioneer Waterman


Due to my retirement move to Thailand, I need to unload about 20 of my original copies of the book I helped write: TOM BLAKE: The Uncommon Journey of a Pioneer Waterman.

This book is the definitive biography of Tom Blake -- the man who invented the surfboard fin, the hollow board, sailboard and the arch-typical surfer lifestyle (among many other accomplishments). Long out-of-print, it is rated with 5 stars on Amazon.com.

Produced by Spencer B. Croul and co-authored by Gary Lynch and myself (Malcolm Gault-Williams), TOM BLAKE: The Uncommon Journey of a Pioneer Waterman was originally published in 2001. Three thousand copiesprinted; each book is a 256-page hardcover, special boxed collector’s edition, featuring over 300 images.

At Amazon.com, there are still a handful of First Editions available, ranging from $300-550. Used, the book itself (without the box), starts at $198.99.

I am selling my personal copies, still in their original bubble wrap and custom mailing box for $225.00 each, including shipping, payable via PayPal. Please place your order by clicking on the PayPal icon below:

(If the PayPal "Buy Now" icon does not appear above, use your browser and go to: http://www.legendarysurfers.com to order)

As an added bonus, I would be glad to email all buyers who request them, a statement of authenticity as to where the book came from. If you would like this, please email me your request after you have placed your order. My email address is “legendarysurfer [at sign] gmail.com.” Unfortunately, I will not be able to sign the books, as they will be sent to you from the United States and I am in Thailand.

I’m proud of all my writings on surf history and I thank all of you who have read some of them and who continue to do so. TOM BLAKE: The Uncommon Journey of a Pioneer Waterman is certainly my crowning achievement to-date.


Rabbit Kekai (1920-2016)

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Born on January 11, 1920, legendary surfer Albert “Rabbit” Kekai came into surfing at a time when the sport was barely two decades “new” – having been revived from near-extinction shortly after the turn of the century.1Duke Kahanamoku still ruled the beach at Waikiki and the beach and its breaks reigned supreme as the epicenter of wave riding. Major influences on early modern surfing – guys like Dad Center, Dudie Miller, John D. Kaupiko and Tom Blake – were not only still around, but at their prime.

“The abundant legends that surround him testify to his stature as an authentic folk hero,” wrote C.R. Stecyk for a profile on Rabbit in a 1994 edition of The Surfer’s Journal. “… To focus on the veracity of the countless Rabbit stories of romantic conquest, martial arts conflicts and incredible sports feats is to miss the point of the man…”2

One of five children born to a Waikikimachinist, Albert Kekai was part of the beach scene by age three. His uncle was a lifeguard at Publics, and had the younger Kekai surfing at age five. Active in most every sport in school, his remarkable speed on the field earned him the nickname of “Rabbit.” Of his early days, he remembers, “I would play football, come back surf, play basketball, come back surf, run track, always going.”3

At 10, he was taken under the wing of Duke Kahanamoku who paid his entries into canoe races and had him teaching surf lessons. An excellent student at Kamehameha High, Rabbit sought an athletic scholarship but was hampered by his small stature. Despite academic scholarship offers, he decided to earn a living from the beach. To supplement his beachboy lifestyle, he earned wages as a caddy at Ala Wai Golf Course, a construction worker, a stevedore, a bit actor and a successful beachside gambler.4

“Imagine if you will,” wrote Paul Holmes for Longboard magazine in 1998, “Waikiki in 1926. A stretch of pristine beach far removed from Honolulu’s bustling port and downtown, Waikiki is still a village. An arc of bright white sand abuts aquamarine ocean speckled with surf dancing on coral reefs. Overlooking the sweep of the bay, stands majestic Diamond Head, a dark, sphinx-like sentinel. The Royal Hawaiian Hotel is still under construction. Plans are underway to drain the pond and swampy area behind Kalakaua Avenue. Tourism is so far still limited to the select few who can afford transoceanic steamship travel. Only a handful of buildings dot [the] beach front. Among them is the Moana Hotel, one of just two hostelries on the shore among the coconut palms, banyans and hau trees.”5

“In the basement of the Moana,” Paul continued, “is the locker room of the Hui Nalu surfing club, from whose ranks come the beachboys – the expert local watermen enlisted by the hotel’s concessionaire Dudie Miller to take visitors for canoe rides and surfing lessons. A similar service is run from the rival Outrigger Club, just a few hundred yards up the beach. As the late afternoon sun sinks behind golden clouds billowing on the Pacific horizon and the workday draws to a close, a handful of beachboys gather at the pavilion out on the tip of the Moana’s 300’ wooden pier. Soon strains of song and ukeleles spill out over the sea, where a bunch of little kids are splashing in the shorebreak on paipos. One of them is five-year-old Rabbit Kekai…”6

“Me and my younger brother learned to surf and angle cut the curl real early,” Rabbit told Steve Pezman and C.R. Stecyk for a 1995 interview in The Surfer’s Journal. “When you get young training, like 5, 6, 7 years old, you get good basics. The way I learned was from watching the big guys. My uncle was a lifeguard and every day we’d go down to the beach, we’d see the big guys hanging around. My cousin Louie Hema and I used to look up to David Hema (his father) and Albert Kauwe (who was custodian at Public Beach Park). Another guy in our family we also used to look up to was Chuck-A-Long, he was one of the greatest, and a guy named Gabe Tong who was a fire chief, and another guy they called ‘Hawaiian,’ his name was Carlos Naluai. They used to be the big guys down there, riding those 11’ to 12’ redwood planks out at Publics.”7

“We were riding big, heavy clunkers, koa double-enders,” Rabbit said of his elders. “Even the bottoms and the tops were the same shape, so you could paddle them both ways and even flip ‘em over. My uncle had one about 14’ or 16’ long, and I was just a little guy so I could hardly move ‘em. But I’d go out and paddle up and down and chase the little waves and stand up. An, oh… I was hooked, you know.”8

Asked in another interview about the longest boards of the time, Rabbit answered, “That was only Duke and the real old guys who rode those sixteen footers. Of course, there was Blake and that other guy, Sam Reid, who about that time introduced the hollow, cigar-shaped box boards.”9

Rabbit estimated that there were well over a couple of hundred surfers riding Hawaiian waves toward the later part of the 1920s.10“Way more,” than a couple hundred. “They were all over. Queen’s, Canoes and every place you can think of. Publics was the most noted spot for big wave riding at the time. Duke and those guys would start way outside and just go. They were trimmers. They’d pick up the wave on those sixteen-foot boards and stay out in the green all the way, they never stayed close to the white water, and they would go a long distance. As kids we watched Tom Blake and all those guys do their trim jobs. Duke and those guys used to just stand and do what we called ‘pose.’ They used to hold their pose for a mile. At times you’d see them bend down to just take a little drop, then pick up speed again and that’s how they’d go. But they never did cutbacks; it was all angle. They’d shout, ‘Comin’ down’ or ‘No drop-in!’ if we looked like we were thinking about going in front of them.”11


1930s


“We had Hawaiian wood boards, like paipos, about 5’ long, no skegs,” Rabbit recalled. “… with a deep vee in the bottom at the back. It helped turn ‘em, and that’s how we learned to maneuver better, stepping hard like that on the back.”12

Rabbit put it another way:

“We used to have what we called paipo boards, similar to the Morey Boogie Boards [the modern body board]. We used to belly board over there [at Sunny Cunha’s – now known as Cunha’s], knee ride, do everything like that. On my first paipo boards, the shape was about five feet long and narrow – like 18” wide, cause we were narrow you know. With 60/40 rails – 60 on the bottom, 40 on top. They were flat. I had my rails more tapered up in the middle part of the board so you could lean on it. The nose was the same as Takayama’s noserider [created in the 1960s]. We used to do a little concave in the front. That’s where Donald got the idea (chuckling). He used to surf there when he was little. We used to have fun.

“Like you see, everybody, what they’re doing now is just making a copy of all of the versions of what we had before. They are calling them twin fins and all that, we used to have it in our days, just like what you call channels now, but with two ridges on either side, just like catamarans. That’s what we called a twin fin in our days with no fins – on a belly type of board, with grooved, channel bottoms. And it holds! You can stall them, you can do turns, just like you do on a twin fin.”13

“My first board was about five feet with 60/40 rails, with the 60 on the bottom and flat,” Rabbit continued. “The width was about 18 inches wide with a nose like Takayama’s noseriders with a little concave in the front. We had twin channels in the bottom in the early thirties. You get that V back there, that boat bottom, and you step back on that and you’re using it like one fin and you can really pull it around. In our days, we’d practice riding up forward and slide ass, doing sideslips and making the waves.”14

Rabbit did his basics in Queens’ Surf, then graduated to Publics. “I started to get outside to Publics where the big guys were,” he said, “And that’s where I really learned. The big guys would kick my ass and try to get me out of there because I was too small. But I’d just stay out there and when they see I could handle it they let me stay. I can’t remember all the names, but they were good, old-style surfers – catch the wave, turn when the curl started to come up, and then trim down the wall. It was all trimming and long rides.”15

A member of the second generation of the Hui Nalu, Rabbit not only got into surfing, but outrigger canoeing, also. When he was still just a kid, he had his own two-man koa canoe that he would take out to ride waves by himself. One of his mentors was Lukela “John D” Kaupiko. By age 14, he was one of the club’s best steersmen, competing against the Outrigger crews coached by Duke Kahanamoku.16Rabbit told of his interaction with Duke Kahanamoku, specifically with regards to canoe racing:

“The Duke was with the Outrigger [Canoe Club] when they were our chief competitor. He was their best steersman. When I was a kid, I used to hang around, and when I was about 12 years old [1932] I was a hot-shot in steering two-man canoes. We used to have kid races, the old man brought me up as steersman, cause I used to have my own two-man canoe. I’d go out at Publics. I used to keep it at Sonny Cunha’s place [for whom Cunha’s is named after]. The steps that he built down, we had two guys carry the canoe across Kalakaua, set ‘em down, get one rope and slide that thing down the steps. To bring them up, you had to pull it up, one guy push and the other guy pull. Get it up, run across the street and leave ‘em in his yard. He used to let me park my boat there. There was a lady that lived at the far end of his place, she was a b-i-t-c-h (Rabbit spells it out), she wouldn’t let anybody around her property. That’s where Bobby Krewson and I used to go and invade! There were a lot of her rich old haole friends over there with their boards. We’d fix ‘em up (chuckling).17But, it was really good in our time.”18

“That’s when the Duke started to take notice of me when I was a kid, like that. Give me all sorts of pointers for steering canoes, and I got to be one of the best out there. Later on, Blue Makua was with me, but he used to go down to the club because his uncle used to be down there (his uncle was one of the noted guys, they called him Boss Makua). I respected that man. My biggest coup in canoe racing was (Rabbit’s voice lowers in respect and he almost whispers the next phrase)... beating the Duke at his own game. He taught me how to get the inside lane when we paddle. He’d always shut you out on the inside, he’s smart and he taught me a lot of different moves so when you turn, the inside guy don’t get by, like the racetrack. The outside guy gotta swing wide, by the time you swing wide, you are left behind. That old man was smart. He knew all the angles and everything. So he used to tell me to watch the guys, that sometime on the outside, you get no choice. Watch him, stay with him right there as close as you can, if he goes close to the buoy you have to swing wide. From outside you get a shorter distance to cut in. So I did that on him, I pulled his own trick! I turned inside and I had the run going inside. When he came out wide, I beat him by half a boat.”19

Rabbit was asked if Duke had a sense of humor about being beaten by his student. “Well, that day when I went up and got the trophy and brought my crew up,” Rabbit answered, “all six Kahanamoku brothers lined up and shook my hand. And it was an honor in those days, and oh, the cheers came down the isle you know, from the old man especially. Then, my coach was John D. Kaupiko, and he tells me, ‘Where you learn that?’ And when I told him he said, ‘You listen to him.’ I learned everything I did under John D., but the Duke gave me fine pointers. There was another coach from the Outrigger, Dad Center, he used to own all this property around here. Dad was another good coach. Being a haole, you know, you usually don’t get anything from them, but Dad used to take me alongside and talk, and he tells me how to train. So I don’t knock ‘em, I listen, that’s the way I learn – I listen. I listened to the Duke, I listened to Dad, I listened to my coach. Then whenever I get inside, I think, ‘Oh, that’ll work.’ So I pull one again and I get ahead of those guys.”20

Rabbit took exception with those who said that because Duke Kahanamoku was in the rival club, he was never Rabbit’s teacher:

“Some of the older guys said, ‘Bullshit. Duke was never your coach.’ And I talked back to them in Hawaiian because I wanted to teach them a lesson. Then I said, in English, ‘Did you understand what I just said to you?’ And they said… ‘No!’ And I said, ‘Remember the times you guys would come into the canoe shed and Duke and I were talking in Hawaiian? And they said, ‘Yeah… what the hell were you guys talkin’ about?’ And I said, ‘That’s right, he was teaching me and he didn’t want you guys to know about it.’”21

Recalling his very first victory against the Outrigger Canoe Club and right afterward, Rabbit said:
“Duke had come up to me on the beach that day and shook my hand and he’d said to me, in English, ‘So you learned something, eh?’ And that night at the awards dinner all five Kahanamoku brothers had come up and shook my hand and not just because I was Hawaiian. No, they wanted to show respect for the knowledge I’d learned from Duke.”22

While still surfing Publics, Rabbit phased into hot-dogging. “I started with the old style,” Rabbit admitted, “but then I got my smaller board and started hot-dogging – following the curl, inside and close to it, following the curl down the line.” Older guys would kick out on the trickier section, inside, but Rabbit and his young peers would keep going. “We knew where the rocks were and we’d zoom in between them without getting hit. That was the start of hot-dogging.”23

Not long after, the big guys were trying the maneuvers the younger guys like Rabbit were making. “They learned how to cut back and do some of the things we were doing,” Rabbit noted, “But they were still doing those gradual turns – Society Turns we used to call them, and they were always out on the green, not back in the curl or in the whitewater.”24

Many of the “clunkers” were eventually cut down into what became the forerunners of the Hot Curl board.25“Everyone pretty much shaped their own in the day,” Rabbit said. “You just trim it down, trim it down until it felt right for you. Speed was what we were looking for in my time.”26

Rabbit’s first board is now in the Bishop Museum. “I don’t know how it got there,” he said with a laugh. “It disappeared one day and I hadn’t seen it in years. But I know it’s my board!”27

His abilities in the water earned him an early position among the beachboys who worked the beachside concessions.

“In those days only the big guys, the old timers had the license to be canoe captains,” Rabbit recalled. “They were guys who’d really paid their dues, put in a lot of water time, knew how to handle all the equipment, steer the canoes safely and teach people how to surf. Duke Kahanamoku, John D. Kaupiko and Dad Center were the guys who said yea or nay and there was a test.”28

Rabbit was only 15 years of age when he was granted his captain’s license. By so doing, he joined the elite group of Waikiki beachboys – guys like Steamboat, Turkey Love, Tough Bill, Chick [Daniels], Blue Makua, Sally [Hale], Panama Dave and Scooter Boy.29

Even by the mid-1930s, tropical fruit still grew wild on the shore at Waikiki and the reef was home to an abundancy of fish. To be a beachboy there and in that time was not only to have a cool job, but a lifestyle at surfing’s very center.

Even though “There were what today you’d call territorial rights,” over some particular breaks,” Rabbit remembers, Waikiki in the 1930s was still uncrowded. “You had the whole ocean to yourself and that was about the best thing. You could catch a wave and go all what you want.”30

“We hung out right where Public Bath is,” Rabbit recalled. Speaking of himself, Louie Hema, and his brothers Niga and Sam, Rabbit said: “We were really good and down in Waikiki our names were pretty big and when you’d get down to Queen’s that’s all they’d look at, you know, Rabbit, Louie, Niga and Sam.”

“We’ve heard stories over the years,” Stecyk and Pezman mentioned to Rabbit during their talk story with him, “that without your approval nobody came in and surfed there [Public Baths].”

“No, that’s before my time,” Rabbit clarified. “When we were there anybody comes in. In the ‘40s, the guys who ruled the roost were the Cross brothers Jackie and Dicky, Wally Froiseth. George Downing was a little punk like I once was. He used to get out there a lot. But the regulars were like Smokey Lew, Hyah Aki, Louie Hema, Mongo Kalahiki and myself. We were about the first real good hot curlers out there, guys used to watch us… We’d go for tubes. When Queen’s was about five feet and really good inside and the wall tapering all the way down, we’d see who stayed in the tube the longest. I was a top rider [meaning he’d stand tall, stay high]. I’d trim high and go flyin’ across. That was my style. And those guys, they’d get down low in the center of their boards. I’d ride there too but my style was up high, trimming on the top of the wave.”31

Some days, Rabbit told Paul Holmes, he and his friends would surf from one break to the next, using one reef as a launch pad to the next, all the way to Kings’ Surf down by the Honolulu Harbor. The spot was once out in front of the royal palace and the exclusive domain of the Hawaiian aristocracy. In an ironic twist of fate, it became a garbage dump, later to be filled in and the land reclaimed. All the changes on land ruined the waves, there, possibly forever. Rabbit recalled the place with fondness. It was “a sweet break,” he said, “with a sandy bottom where you could take off and go both ways.” He also remembers it being sharky and he and others having to wait for the sharks to finish feeding before going out to surf.32

The beachboys had a reputation as partiers and this they embraced with an open pride. However, Rabbit never got into that aspect of the lifestyle, in part because of his age, but also because of other factors:

“I’d go there to parties with those guys,” he said, “But I eat and then, ‘bye… I go.” This attitude may have been due to his family’s influence:

“My Dad didn’t like to think my brothers and I would be sneaking booze and drinking like that. So he said to us, ‘if you guys want to drink you come sit down here and drink with me. And if you don’t want to do that just don’t let me ever catch you drinking.’ So that sorta put me off and after that it never happened. I was an athlete. I was always playing football, basketball, baseball. I never had time for it and I always hung around with guys who were athletes who were just down to their business… no fast life.”33

Like many of the beachboys, however, young Rabbit did gain a reputation as something of a ladies’ man. This aspect of his life he is reticent to talk about, in deference to his wife.34


Late ‘30s, Early ‘40s


Rabbit made his first trip to the U.S. Mainland “Just before the war,” he recalled, “in 1938 or ‘39, on a vacation. I met Opai and Whitey and those guys at San Onofre. That’s where everybody used to go [on the Mainland]. I surfed Malibu, too.”35

Even though many of his most famous surfing competitive wins were in the 1950s, Rabbit considers that it was during the late 1930s and early 1940s when, “I was in my prime. We had our own cars, like woodys, stacked ‘em with 10, 12 boards on the roof, everyone chipping in a quarter for gas and bringing a dollars worth of food – rice, pork and beans – and we’d go to Makaha, Haleiwa, Sunset and V-land.”36

“One day we had a contest at Queen’s to see who was the better one. We’d go for tubes, take the drop and see who could stay in the longest. Smokey would do something, then Hyah would do something else, then I’d go. Each time we’d say, ‘That’s it, that’s the best.’ But you could never tell. Each ride would be better than the last.”37

George Downing recalled a particular incident that was not uncommon. “Back then you couldn’t get into Queen’s if you were an outsider. The only way in was if a local got you in. Now some of the boys learned to shape fast. This one fella who shaped a lot of his own boards was known for being real quick. Once this [outsider] guy on a good redwood plank drifted into Queen’s. The guys saw it was a nice piece of wood, so they let him catch a wave. Right away they shoved him off and the board floated inside.

“On the beach there were concessions and a lot of local activity. They had this one area where they kept the drawknives, saws and all the tools necessary to carve a board. So anyhow, this uninvited visitor’s board floats in, and by the time he swam in, the real quick guy had already cut a new outline shape and had turned one rail. When the owner walked up, the speed shaper was pulling his drawknife down the other rail. Now the outsider is a little suspicious and he asks the shaper if he’s seen his lost board. Then he goes, ‘Hey, that board looks like my board.’ The answer came back, ‘No way brah, I’ve been here working on this for weeks. Your board’s probably caught in the rip. I’d go look down at Publics.’ So the guy walked off looking for it.”38

“Rabbit wrote the book on dirty tricks,” he said of himself, with a kind of devilish laugh.39

Rabbit well remembers the time of the first known big wave casualty and of riding Waimea at 20-to-25 feet.

“That was the year Dickie Cross drowned there,” Rabbit recalled of 1943.“The waves were cracking all the way from Kaena Point to Kuhuku.”40

The biggest surf Rabbit remembers was actually not on the North Shore or even Makaha, but right off of Waikiki:

“The biggest surf I’ve seen and been out in was during the ‘30s at a place called Bluebirds, in the steamer (shipping) lane. Hard to estimate. I don’t know how big, but according to George Downing and Wally Froiseth, it was about 30’-35’. But we couldn’t [accurately] estimate the height out there.
“The waves crack way outside in the blue water and there’s no way to line up. You can think you’re in the right place and the waves will crack way outside you. So we sit out there and watch and try to take off toward the edge so it really cracks behind you. Then you can make it all the way down through Outside Castles and all the way through Big Publics. Then you have to kick out because there’s just a big wall all the way down to the Royal Hawaiian. Anyway, that’s what they call Zero Break or Outside Zero and there were six of us out that day and we practiced the buddy system – anybody get wiped out we’d go inside and help ‘em out.”41

“That day the Lurline (632’ ocean liner) came out and came right by, between us and the shoreline, in the regular shipping lane like that. And just after he got by us, just past the break, a big set came and we had to run for it. And the wave cracked way outside and I’m sure the captain must have just shit himself when he saw that, because you know what would’ve happened if he’d been caught broadside like that. Afterwards I went down to the harbor and talked to him about it and he said he’d seen us sitting out there and wondered what the hell those crazy surfers were doing out there in the steamer lane.

“I never did see it break out there again. Big Castles maybe, but not Bluebirds. I never see it crack like that again.”42

Rabbit recalled other exceptional days – in the 15-to-20-foot range – out at Castles:

“You get that and you can go all across Big Publics, all the way down through Cunhas and sometimes right through to Queens. But not like they say Duke rode – all the way from Big Castles to (where now is) the Royal Hawaiian. It is possible. But Duke and those guys had big 16-footers and they could do on the green like that – they could just track across.”43

Why don’t we see anything like that, today?

“There’s sandbars and sections now,” Rabbit echoes a similar observation that I had heard more than once before by elders of the tribe. “Before, when we were young, you’d see one line of wave all the way across. Reefs grow. Sandbars form. Things change.”44


1940s


During the early part of World War II, Rabbit joined an Underwater Demolition Team (UDT) training unit stationed at Hale‘iwa. “Two hours or four hours of the day on the job,” Rabbit recalled, “Most of the day free to surf, whatever.” By the afternoon, he was usually back on Waikiki Beach, riding waves or working concession. “It was okay,” he summed-up his early military experience.45

Later on, however, things got a lot more radical in “the island chains of Micronesia,” Paul Holmes wrote, “slipping underwater demolition charges onto enemy defenses, clearing the way for troop landings as the U.S. took back territory occupied by the Japanese.”46

“Of our ten man unit,” Rabbit sadly remembers, “only four came back. I had three and a half years of it and that was enough. I didn’t want to make a career of it. I wanted back on the beach.”47

Rabbit was one of the many noted 1940s surfers who banded together to form the Waikiki Surf Club. “I was in the Waikiki Surf Club with George Downing and those guys,” Rabbit said with pride.48


Rabbit was there at the Waikiki Surf Club when the first and second major waves of California surfers started coming to Waikiki after the war. He’d already established friendships with Mainland surfers after visiting Southern California in 1939. At that time, he hung out at San Onofre with Whitey Harrison and Opai Wert.49This time, on O‘ahu, he hung out with not only his long-time friends, but also the new California transplants like Joe Quigg, Matt Kivlin and Dave Rochlen.50

“Rabbit really started this style that they call hotdogging,” attested Californian Joe Quigg, who moved to the islands a little after the war. “In the summer, Queen’s would get overhead and Rabbit would be inside of the tube hanging five with no fin and his back arched. All you would see was this flying green blur visible through the lip of the wave. He’d do it over and over again, always with precision.”51

“The Island kids were doing amazing things on all kinds of their finless boards, but no one ever gave them credit,” underscored Quigg. “Rabbit would come flying out of the section, stomp on the tail real hard and stand the board straight up on its tail and bring it down on a different angle and then run to the nose and take off in another direction. I can remember paddling out at Makaha in point conditions and pushing up through the lip on a big set wave. Right at the top, as I’m about to punch through, I looked down and there was Georgie [Downing] standing there smiling, going faster than hell on his redwood. He was just streaking along in impossible situations and making it because of positioning and all that inertia. Downing pioneered the riding of really big, nasty waves.”52

“Rabbit and I traded boards one day at Queen’s,” continued Quigg. “Rabbit was really skinny when he was young and probably didn’t weigh much at all, so I got on his board and it just sank. I could stand on it in chest-deep water and his hot curl would press to the bottom and lay right on the reef.”53

“We got our board’s length coming down, really trimmed with four inch tails and pointed nose, and brought in to like 18 or 19 inches. They were pointers like the modern day gun, that’s how we had our boards. Redwood plants with a V tail for the big ones at Makaha, where we used to go a lot, we’d go out with the width to 20 or 20 1/2 inches. At Makaha, you’d drop in, point and go... make it through the bowl and do cutbacks and S turns on the inside. At Queen’s, when we used to, ya know, get the hotdog deal going, my board was like 7 or 7 1/2’, sometimes up to 9’. I used to write ‘Chi-Chi Bobo’ on them.”54

Rabbit underscored that the various crews were surfing not just in the Waikiki and Makaha areas, but on the North Shore, particularly Laniakea and Paumalu (later renamed Velzyland or V-land, in honor of Dale Velzy):55

“George Downing and everybody had a surfin’ safari,” recalled Rabbit of one particular North Shore assault. It “started at Diamond Head right around the whole island, every surf spot you can think of. That was back in the ‘40s.”56

Rabbit added that they were even surfing Pipeline “way before” 1951. “Yeah, board surfing Pipeline. We had a family home down on Paumalu. We used to stay out there, in like a big army barracks, you know, our family place. And in the back there was a kitchen and outside there was a bath house, it was a big property out there. During the weekends the family went out there. So during weekdays Richard Kau, Squirrely, all us guys, we buy bread, pork and beans, sausage, whatever we could afford and we stay down there in the place and we surf all the places down there. Out in front close to where we lived there, we used to surf that place every day, they call that V-land now. That’s Paumalu, the whole district by Sunset. The kids talk about V-land and I say we used to surf there, it’s a left, not a right.... In those days the reef on the left made for a big, long wall, and we’d mow the left. We used to like the left because we were used to going left at Publics, and we’d get good surf, no reef problem. Now, hey you got rocks over there on the left, look how shallow it is. It’s a big, steep break going to the right. But try to go left over there somedays, and the thing just collapse on you.”57


1950s


Rabbit has talked more than once about his friends he surfed with in the 1940s; guys like Woody Brown, who was raising his family in The Tavern environs and was influential in the surfboard designs of the time. Rabbit was next door at Waikiki when Woody first developed the catamaran.

“That guy pancaked a glider from about 5,000 feet and walked away [in the 1930s],” Rabbit began. “Just like he did at Waimea Bay [in 1943]. That guy is charmed. His first wife had passed away back in California and when he first came here he slept on the beach just like a typical haole guy. We sorta took a liking to him. He had a balsa board he used to knee paddle. He’d come out surfing with us guys and we had fun together. We sorta took him in under our wing. He had a lot of knowledge of board building… It was mostly Wally and Georgie who befriended him. Then he married one of the Hawaiian ladies down here, one of the best hula dancers you’d ever see. He hooked up. Maw Brown we called her. She raised two kids. And Woody was a good provider.”58

“Woody shaped good boards,” Rabbit continued, “balsa, balsa-redwood. Then he started building catamarans. He was the first to bring them down here. They were about 14’ and had lateen sails. I used to sail it off Diamond Head where the ‘leahi’ wind blew, and when we’d get knocked down over there, he’d get so mad.”59

About sailing, Rabbit acknowledged, “Well, it comes natural to all us guys. When I first got onto that cat I told Woody I knew how but I really didn’t. But I used to go out and sheet for him and I watched. And I learned. I got good enough to heel that thing over – it was fun! Then Woody built the first big catamaran, the Manu Kai, in his backyard. Forty foot. Everybody pitched in. We rolled the damn thing down the highway and it took about sixty guys to lift that cat, walk about ten feet then put it down. Rest. All the way down to a lagoon where we put it in the water. Then Woody sailed it to Waikiki for the first time. He somehow got licensed to be the first guy out there.”60

Another friend and fellow surfer was George Downing:

“George and I used to rule the roost… In our time George and I were just… top dogs,” Rabbit recalled.61

“… Georgie was more of like a white water rider. He’d get going on that wall from way back, and when it came over, he’d drop down and just go. Like he was glued on. Power! I’m a power surfer too but I like to stay in the green, just outside the thick part and just shoot it and make it!”62

Asked about his own nose riding,63Rabbit said:

“Well, when you trim you move up to make it go faster, right? So we used to do like cheater fives then just pull into standing island pull-outs at the end. And it went from there… the modern day floater, in our days we called that… a mistake! You’d try to get out of the wave and you’d get stuck on the top and then come back down again and you’re still on it! We used to do reverse kickouts too. Backside, kick it out, spin around the other way and catch it.”64

Of the coast haoles that came over after the war, Rabbit befriended them and many others that followed. He became close friends with Matt Kivlin, especially.

“I think he was the best… in my own opinion,” Rabbit assessed of the early California surfers he knew in the 1940s and early 1950s. “He had a real stately stance, like straight up, you know? Real graceful. I used to watch him a lot. Matt gave me a balsa board that he’d shaped similar to our style, a hot curl but with a fin. He made that board for his wife and then I rode it and liked it and he gave it to me. That was in 1954. And I won the Makaha with that board in ‘56 and ‘57.65I rode it in Peru [a couple of months later] and won with it there too. I ended up selling it to the President of Peru’s nephew for $1000.”66

“My boards were about 16 pounds, sometimes 18,” Rabbit said of his last redwood boards. “I’d go heavier because in bigger waves you needed momentum.” Asked if such lightness in a redwood board was the result of having taken so much out of the wood, Rabbit replied, “No, you get the light ones [lightest redwood blanks in the stack]. Some of the redwoods were just like balsa boards. You’d look for the straight grain and they’d be really light.”67

Rabbit’s favorite redwood board of all time was the board he named “Chi-Chi Bobo.”

“… nobody knew (laughter) what it means! George’s were Pepe. That means ‘baby.’ He still got it there.”68

As for the fate of all his old boards, Rabbit replied:

“Deteriorated! You just throw ‘em under the house and they’d get a lot of drillers in ‘em – termites! They get to ‘em, you know, or when you leave ‘em hanging in a ceiling. They deteriorate, you get rid of ‘em.”69

In the early 1950s, Rabbit steered the Waikiki Surf Club to victory in the second of the then-newly inaugurated Moloka‘i-to-O‘ahu canoe paddling race.

“The waves were 15’-20’ out in the channel,” Rabbit remembered. “And our crew did it what we call iron man – no substitutes, no relief paddlers, just one six-man crew. The Waikiki Surf Club had another canoe in the race and they’d gone south, and the escort boat had followed them. But I’d gone north so nobody even knew where we were. We had no radio contact, nothing. We capsized three times out there. A big wave came and I didn’t have a chance to turn in or back it in. We were down in the trough like a dead duck with another wave coming and I realized ‘We’re gone now!’ I just had time to yell, ‘Watch out!’ and the next wave threw the boat [canoe] right over the ama. Three times that happened but we managed to get the boat up again and keep going. In the surf it’s pretty common. Thunderbirds we call ‘em, and then you’re pretty close to shore, so no problem. But out in the open ocean… it was hairy, boy.”70

During his more than 40 years as a beachboy, Rabbit came in contact with a number of well-known people.71Asked for any “interesting encounters with celebrities over the years,” Rabbit replied:
“Gregory Peck, Kirk Douglas, Red Skelton, William Bendix. I worked in a lot of the movies that were filmed in Waikiki. Gidget Goes Hawaiian, The Old Man and the Sea, Mr. Roberts,From Here To Eternity,Hawaii, Diamond Head. All the ones that came down here, everyone got in ‘em. I made good money. Georgie was pissed at me because he was handling all the extras and getting ten percent of their pay, but he couldn’t get any of mine. Working on the movie Blue Hawaii, I got in a beef with Elvis. I could handle myself with him, no problem, but I went to the director and told him hey, I’m out of here.”72

Other noted celebrities included Redd Foxx, Dorothy Lamour, Deborah Kerr, Michael Douglas, David Niven and Gary Cooper. Gary Cooper enjoyed Rabbit’s company so much, he wanted to take him to dinner with his family to one of O‘ahu’s fanciest restaurants. “I told him I couldn’t go because they had a dress code and I didn’t have clothes for that place,” Rabbit remembers. That didn’t stop Cooper, who outfitted Rabbit with appropriate attire in order to make the occasion.73

When the owners of the Dodgers baseball team – the O’Malleys – put their championship team up at the Royal Hawaiian for an off season break, Rabbit got a chance to meet a number of famous ball players all at once. He took both Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale out in an outrigger that pearled on a First Break swell, pitching the canoe over their heads and filling with water. “I made a quick move and bring the nose up and got it all the way back to shore. But when I asked ‘em if they wanted to go out for one more they both jumped out and said, ‘No way.’ It was pretty hairy,” Rabbit admitted with a laugh. “They’d never forget that day. They had a ball surfing though. I took ‘em surfing on my big Hobie tandem board and got ‘em all standing up. We had so much fun that year.”74

“We’d been there before them guys,” Rabbit said of the Coast Haoles who usually get the credit for being the first ones to re-open the North Shore. “I hate it when they (the media) say they were the first.”75

“Da Bull, Peter Cole, Van Dyke, they said they were the first, and all those guys, you read about ‘em in the magazines, they were the first guys to ride Waimea. I said hey, we been here before you guys, but the pictures were taken that publicize you guys. I said you were the first to be photographed, but not the first to ride Waimea!”76

Remembering that he and his friends were riding the North Shore “In the ‘30s and ‘40s,” Rabbit specified it was “Mostly Haleiwa… and Sunset” on planks.77

“Peter Cole and those guys,” Rabbit went on, “we sat down and had a big argument, especially [Fred] Van Dyke. They say they were the first and all that, but they all came down ‘56-’58. I asked them if they every heard of a guy named Dickie Cross? They said, ‘Yeah he died at Waimea.’ I said, ‘Right. In the 1940s, think about it.’ Two guys that went out that day were Woody Brown and Dickie Cross. A guy named Stew Sakamoto and myself, we missed our ride going down with them that morning, we came about half an hour later. That evening we heard the news.”78

Debunking the popular myth that the North Shore wasn’t ridden until the 1950s by California surfers, Rabbit pointed out that in the 1940s, surf safaris were taking locals all over the islands. As an example, he gave Downing’s 1940s surf safari that had started at Diamond Head and gone around the whole island.79

Rabbit mentioned that they were surfing Pipeline way before Mike Doyle and Phil Edwards broke it open at the beginning of the 1960s and before Bob Simmons and Flippy Hoffman were bodysurfing it in 1951. “We had a family home down on Paumalu [Sunset Beach].”80

Rabbit gives credit to the hot curl guys for being the first to open up Makaha and then the North Shore. “Nobody used to go out there. Then the town guys started to go. The pioneers I would say would be George Downing, Wally [Froiseth], Henry Lum, Woody Brown…”81

As for Makaha, “The first time I rode Makaha,” Rabbit recalled, “it was about an 8’ day. One time it got big and George and them, they went out, and they came back and said, ‘Hey Rabbit, try there, breaking big, the point.’ So that’s when we’d go. We used to ride the point a lot. Woody Brown, Wally, George, Henry Lum… they were what you call the regulars, and I used to tag along. And after you go there a couple of times you just get the bug.”82

“You know,” Rabbit said, “a lot of guys talk about surviving big wave wipeouts at Waimea. To me, you do it like a paratrooper, spread eagle. It will tumble you if you’re in a ball. But if you’re spread eagle it will push you down but you can control yourself underwater. You just stay down as long as you can then come up. Just like a paratrooper jumping out of a plane. Same thing underwater. And go with the surge, it pushes you. The next one come in you go down deep, spread eagle and it pushes you in till you’re home free.

“Another thing, some guys like Van Dyke, Tommy Zahn, Peter Cole, they had a theory, they used to train in swimming pools to stay under for one whole minute because that’s how long they felt a big wave held you down. So one day I say, ‘You sure you stay down one whole minute?’ And they go yep! So I say look, if surf breaking now – ten to fifteen seconds interval. You tell me you always come up before the next one come. But for one minute you gotta stay down four waves. You guys never will do that. They started to think and when they got my drift, it was Ricky Grigg who said you’re right Rabbit.

“Another thing, when you get nailed, you go down, get rolled around, you don’t know which way the surface is. In the olden days a lot of the guys would tie a balsa chip or ping pong ball up in a net on a string. It told you which way up was. But the human body is like a cat, you know how when you drop ‘em, they always turn feet first? With the human body, if you relax, the head always turns back up. You try to dive down in a pool, you’ll see. So, down in that turbulence, a lot of guys they fight, they’re going down the wrong way. If you spread eagle, you find that you’re able to come back up, naturally. This is survival that I’m talking about. When you come back up, don’t take a deep breath like everybody, that’s the worst thing you can do. You take a normal breath, you can hold it longer.
“Another thing, when you think you’re running out of breath, you snort out! Push out the stale air. (Rabbit exhales sharply through his nose.) Blow it out! You find you’ve got a reserve air supply. And you’ve got that much time to come back up. And when you snort it out, your whole body feels light coming back up. That’s our theories. In the olden days we talk about it. That’s how we find out. How, you know, survival on big waves. Today, I don’t know if anybody got that kind of knowledge, but that’s the way it is.”83

“In extreme conditions,” Rabbit said, “when something happens, something goes wrong, you can get in situations you just can’t get out of. You’ve got to know your limits. If you can handle it, do it. If you can’t handle it, don’t do it. The smart guy is the one who knows when he’s in over his limit and will just paddle in.”84

By the mid-1950s, Rabbit was an established authority and a proven champion.85He began to pass on his knowledge to the younger generation of surfers then coming up in Hawaii; guys like Joey Cabell, Donald Takayama and Harold Iggy.

“I loved Joey,” Rabbit said. “He was a funny little kid. I used to watch him come down before he’d go to school. He would come out, but he didn’t have his own board, and my boards were in a big banyan tree there and he’d take down my board and go surf. We’d just stand our boards in a tree and nobody’d steal boards, except us guys, we would steal somebody else’s and shape’em down (Rabbit chuckles)!”86

“You betta believe it!” Rabbit detailed another memory of how the locals got some over on the tourists. “They were outlined by the time the guy’d get in. A couple of the other guys, they got caught. One guy, Mike Franks, would stick a template on the plank and then they’d just outline the whole thing, saw through that thing so fast, draw knife the thing, plane the bottom already, and the top, whatever paint the guy had, or varnish, they’d plane the thing off so it’s just unfinished wood by the time they’d get in. And they’d say, ‘Where’d you get the new board?’ And we’d go, ‘Lewis and Cook’ (The local lumber company). Wood was cheap then. It cost about fifteen bucks for a blank. But the trouble was the wood was in stacks. You had to go through all of it to find the good stuff. See most of it was still wet. They didn’t kiln dry in those days.”87

“Nose Hemma was another guy. He wanted to get a board and there were some boards guys had left in the locker that were brand new from Sears & Roebuck. Hollow boards. Nose just painted one red and left it laying outside the locker. Then he walked up right in front of the guy who was looking for his board, picked it up and walked away with his board. He got four boards like that.”88

Both Joey Cabell and Alan Gomes were influenced by Rabbit.

“Alan was the hottest,” Rabbit recalled, “he was older than Joey. Alan used to be George Downing’s protégé, he won all the juniors, then right after that Joey started to come up. He was my protégé.”89
Alan’s father was noted wood craftsman Abel Gomes.90

“Well, he owned a shop where they made furniture,” Rabbit remembered, “so he [Abel] had all the tools and access to any kind of wood. He shaped all of the boards for Alan. Boy that guy was making some unreal boards, total craftsman style. Alan had all the best. Alan and Georgie Downing and Wally Froiseth; they all used to live in that one block on Tusitla (that’s Tahitian for a peaceful place to reminisce). Abel made boards for a lot of those guys. Wally made his own boards and he made boards for Georgie too.”91

“We all looked up to Wally because he was the oldest. You always look up to your elders with respect.” Rabbit said everyone’s style was similar, “but Wally’s a trimmer. He’s got balls, and he would stay deep in the pocket and just fly. In other words, he’d just let it get as steep as he could and go for speed. That was everybody’s aim in our time when the waves were big.”92


Passing on the Calabash


In his later years, Rabbit spent a good deal of his time as Beach Marshall for the annual Triple Crown pro events on the North Shore, the HLF longboarding series, and scores of amateur contests for Island kids.93

“I’ll be a coach for any of today’s guys who show that they’ll listen,” Rabbit once said, listing surfers as different as Kelly Slater and Ken Bradshaw among those he’s guided.94

“I see what they can do,” Rabbit said about those he coached, “but the one thing now I notice that all the coaches… they don’t understand waterman’s knowledge. They don’t look for the tide, they don’t look for the type of break they’re getting and how to work the wave. That’s one thing they’re lacking. I don’t say anything, I don’t knock ‘em down on it, and I don’t give ‘em pointers. Cause some coaches if you give pointers, they get pissed off at you. So I stay to myself. I use my water knowledge and get the kids to do it. I teach different things different ways.”95

“I remember one time, at Ala Moana, the bowl – a funny thing,” Rabbit continued. “We were having a contest and there was this guy who was a big name. He comes out there dropping in on every damn kid. And Ala Mo was his place. We tried to kick him out and he kept doing it so I went out there and told him, ‘Come on, give it back to the kids, you’ve had your fun.’ He said, ‘Hey, I want to surf, nobody’s going to chase me outta here.’ And I told him, ‘Hey, give’em break.’ So I went inside and sat and he lost his board [in the pre-leash days] and it came up to me and stopped. As he swam up he smiled at me because I had hold of his board, and I gave it one chop and his skeg went like that (Rabbit makes a fin bend flat with his hand). I said, ‘Here, go surf.’ He didn’t do anything, I didn’t do anything. I’d just broke his best board’s skeg! Boy he was sick! (Rabbit makes sort of an abashed laugh as if the whole deal had amazed him too.) Later he came up and apologized. I said, you want it fixed – I fix it if you want. He said no. But you know, he learned a lesson without us getting in a fight or anything.”96

In talking about the passage of knowledge from one generation to another, Rabbit mentioned Dad Center. “Good man,” Rabbit said simply but with emphasis. “So you learn a lot from those old guys. Nowadays, in my own opinion, I wouldn’t pass on the waterman knowledge from those guys to the modern-day guys. If there’s a certain guy that I see, that it’s worth passing on, I do it. But outside of that I won’t, because these guys, they’re ego guys. Everything is for them and I hate that. You see, pass on to something, do it right and try to share. But a lot of these guys, modern-day coaches, I watch them and sometimes, like the Outrigger crew here, the club, they had the best crew you can get (I used to compete against them), but they never win, they’re way in the back. Like eight crews and they’re number seven. They got pissed off at their coach. So they came and asked me. I told them, you know what, I cannot do it unless you get permission from the club and from the coach. The coach tell me, ‘You think you can do anything better than what we’re doing for the kids, you got my blessing out there.’ I asked, ‘Free hand?’ He said, ‘Free hand!’ In other words they don’t bug me. For four days I worked the crew. The fifth day I got them to go slow for timing to iron out all the kinks. They went in that next race and they broke the record. One of the fathers had money, you know, he tried to push some on us. But I said no, my reward is to see the kids win. But I created such a monster by coaching those kids to win! All the other clubs that were losing, they wanted me to coach.”97

Rabbit was asked what to him is a waterman and he replied, “A guy that knows everything. He can handle himself in the worst situations, and he can look out for other people. For instance, every time there’s a body recovery they call us guys. We know the situation, where to go. They say, ‘Why here?’ We just know the ground. One time this guy who was Chief of Detectives come to me and say, ‘My son’s out there.’ So I took my board out there and look around on the bottom… and found him… brought in his little boy.”98

Asked in the mid-1990s who was worth investing in – who had the waterman’s spirit – Rabbit replied:

“There’s a lot of up and coming lifeguards who are watermen. The pick of the littler is Brian Keaulana. Boy! He’s got all that knowledge that Buffalo has pumped into him. That guy, he’s the best. Have you seen that rescue he did with the jet ski and everything? I tell you, modern day techniques with those jet skis are unbelievable. Before, we never did have anything like that. The only thing we had was what we called the buddy system. One guy go down, one stay up and look for ‘em, or we try to get his board, in big surf we go out and grab ‘em tandem. When things happen like that you just get ‘em in to the beach, smile and go back out.”99

Does Rabbit like to ride with a leash or without?

“Right now, at my age, I’ll take it with!” Rabbit replied.100“I don’t want to swim in from way the hell out there. In our time, at the Makaha contest, if you lose your board, you’re out. That’s why George Downing and I, white water or not, we’d just prone it out. In our days proning was chicken. It wasn’t kosher. But if you prone out, you live, and get back up again…”101

“If you had to assign a label to Rabbit Kekai to classify him,” surf writer C.R. Stecyk wrote of a seemingly impossible task, “it would have to be something like, ‘The father of modern hotdogging.’ Guys like Kivlin, Quigg, Edwards, Dora, Takayama and Cabell all regard him as a primary influence. Kekai’s contest record is unparalleled and includes the Makaha and Peruvian International titles.”102

Asked if he had any special regimens or health practices to keep fit,103Rabbit replied:

“I get down if I don’t go surfin’ or get in the water. You become like a couch potato. Sluggish. I gotta get in the water, so even if it’s flat I’ll go paddle. And I like competition.104

“I liked surfing in the Makaha contest and getting guys like Eddie Aikau and Phil Edwards in my heat; and Jeff Hakman, Felipe Pomar. I remember one day it was so big. I remember paddling out and passing the bowl and sets are coming in. Like about five or six waves. And I just barely squeezed through one, paddling for dear life out of the impact zone and the next one was bigger yet and just about to peel over. I turned and paddled as fast as I could and caught it and dove straight down, just like a plane doing a nine-G dive to pick up speed, as fast as I could, through that whole big section, and I made it out right into the channel. And Eddie was out there. Eddie looked at me and he said, ‘No way, Rabbit, you’re crazy!’ And I said, ‘Life or death, Eddie. To get outta there it was either that way or get nailed. I just pulled it out.’ That’s always stuck in my mind, that time with Eddie at Makaha.

“Eddie was special. To me, Waimea Bay was Eddie… and Jose Angel. Those two guys are tops in my book.”105

Asked if there was anything left that Rabbit wanted to achieve before his time in this life was over, Rabbit answered:

“The water is so good. It keeps me young while my friends are so old. I tell them to get in the water. It calms you – no stress – and brings you back to earth.”106

“Well, my dream is to surf as long as I can. Everybody ask me and I say, ‘Hey, I’m looking at a hundred.’ They laugh but that’s my thing, to keep surfing and keep competing and see how far I can go.”107


ENDIT

------------------------------------------------------

1 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 65. Rabbit Kekai.
2 Stecyk, C.R. and Pezman, Steve. “Rabbit Kekai – Talking Story,” The Surfer’s Journal, Volume 3, Number 4, Winter 1994, p. 65.
3 Borte, Jason. Bio of Rabbit for Surfline, January 2001. Rabbit quoted.
4 Borte, Jason. Bio of Rabbit for Surfline, January 2001.
5 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 51.
6 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 51.Paipo, another terms for a keoe or wooden bodyboard.
7 Stecyk, Craig and Pezman, Steve. “Rabbit Kekai -- Talking Story,” The Surfer’s Journal, Volume 3, Number 4, Spring 1995, p. 65. “Chuck-A-Long” was spelled “Chuck Ah Long “ in the Longboard article. See Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 52.
8 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 52.
9 Stecyk and Pezman, 1995 p. 65. Rabbit quoted.
10 Stecyk and Pezman, 1995, p. 65. Rabbit quoted.
11 Stecyk and Pezman, 1995, pp. 65-66. Rabbit quoted.
12 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 52.
13 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 66. Rabbit Kekai.
14 Stecyk, “Hot Curl,” The Surfer’s Journal, Summer 1994, p. 71. Rabbit Kekai.
15 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 52.
16 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 52.
17 Meaning, they’d “liberate” the boards and make alterations so they could not later be recognized.
18 Stecyk and Pezman, 1995, p. 72. Rabbit Kekai quoted.
19 Stecyk and Pezman, 1995, pp. 72-73. Rabbit Kekai quoted.
20 Stecyk and Pezman, 1995, p. 73. Rabbit Kekai quoted.
21 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 53.
22 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 52.
23 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 52.
24 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 52.
25 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 52.
26 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 52.
27 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, pp. 52-53.
28 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, pp. 53-54.
29 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 54.
30 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 54.
31 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, pp. 67-68. Rabbit Kekai.
32 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 54.
33 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 55.
34 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 55.
35 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 75. Rabbit Kekai.
36 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 55.
37 Stecyk, “Hot Curl,” The Surfer’s Journal, Summer 1994, p. 71. Rabbit Kekai.
38 Stecyk, “Hot Curl,” The Surfer’s Journal, Summer 1994, p. 67. George Downing.
39 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 58.
40 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 55. Rabbit recalled the year as 1941, but Dickie Cross died at Waimea on December 22, 1943. See Gault-Williams, “Woody Brown: Pilot, Surfer, Sailor,” The Surfer’s Journal, Volume 5, Number 3, Fall 1996, pp. 94-107. Photo prints by Bud Browne.
41 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 56.
42 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 56.
43 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 56.
44 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 56.
45 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, pp. 56-57.
46 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 57. Paul Holmes.
47 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 57. See also classic Clarence Maki photo of Rabbit on the beach at Waikiki, during the late 1940s, p. 56.
48 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 72.
49 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 57.
50 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 57. Holmes also added Bob Simmons to the list of Coast Haoles, also.
51 Stecyk, “Hot Curl,” 1994, p. 71. Joe Quigg.
52 Stecyk, “Hot Curl,” 1994, p. 70. Joe Quigg.
53 Stecyk, “Hot Curl,” 1994, p. 70. Joe Quigg.
54 Stecyk, “Hot Curl,” 1994, p. 71. Rabbit Kekai.
55 Stecyk & Pezman, “Rabbit Kekai -- Talking Story,” 1994, p. 72.
56 Stecyk & Pezman, “Rabbit Kekai -- Talking Story,” 1994, p. 72.
57 Stecyk & Pezman, “Rabbit Kekai -- Talking Story,” 1994, p. 72.
58 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 75. Rabbit Kekai.
59 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 75. Rabbit Kekai.
60 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 75. Rabbit Kekai.
61 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 75. See also Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, Walter Hoffman classic photo of the winners of the Christmas Day races, 1953. Freatured trophy finalists were Tom Moore, George Downing, Pat Wyman, unidentified, and Nigger Kekai in front of the Moana Hotel, p. 53.
62 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 75.
63 See Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, Clarence Maki classic photo (from Rabbit’s personal collection) of Rabbit riding Queen’s in the early 1950s, p. 51.
64 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 75.
65 See Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, classic Bud Browne photo (in Rabbit’s personal collection) of Rabbit surfing Makaha in 1958, post-Chi-Chi Bobo, p. 55. See also classic Dr. Don James photo of Rabbit surfing Makaha in 1958, p. 57.
66 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 69. Rabbit Kekai. See also photo of Rabbit in The Surfer’s Journal, Volume 3, Number 2, 1994, p. 68.
67 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 70.
68 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 70.
69 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 70.
70 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 57.
71See Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, Bernie Baker photo of Rabbit giving Katie Couric of NBC’s “Today” show dry-sand lessons on surfboard riding, 1990s, p. 54.
72 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, pp. 75-76.
73 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 54.
74 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, pp. 54-55.
75 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, pp. 55-56.
76 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 72.
77 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 72.
78 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 72.
79 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 72.
80 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 72. See also Gault-Williams, “Ancient Hawaiian Surf Culture.” Sunset was originally known as Paumalu, a known surfing spot even before Europeans landed in the Hawaiian Islands.
81 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 72. Wally gives credit to Gene Smith and Whitey Harrison as first in the modern era to rediscover the North Shore in 1938-39. See Gault-Williams, “Surf Drunk, The Wally Froiseth Story,” The Surfer’s Journal, Volume 6, Number 4, Winter 1997.See also Gault-Williams, LEGENDARY SURFERS Volume 3: The 1930s, ©2012 by Malcolm Gault-Williams.
82 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 72.
83 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 76.
84 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 58.
85 This also included the area of tandem riding. See photos of Rabbit with noted 1963-64 tandem partner Momi Adache in Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 58. Dr. Don James photo. See also Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 76 & 71. “Momi was a gymnast at U.H.,” Rabbit said. “I tumbled there and got to know her coach, Don Gustafson, and he put us together. We jelled right away. She was a little heavier than the other gals, but she had spring and balance so I didn’t have to dead lift her.” [same Momi as today’s Momi Keaulana?]
86 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 70.
87 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 70.
88 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 70.
89 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 70.
90See Gault-Williams, “Tom Blake and the Hollows,” Longboard, Volume 3, Number 3, August/September 1995 for more info on Abel Gomes and his craftsmanship.
91 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 70.
92 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, pp. 70-71.
93 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 58.
94 Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, p. 57.
95 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 74.
96 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 74.
97 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, pp. 73-74.
98 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 74.
99 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 74.
100See Holmes, Paul. “Rabbit Kekai: Last of the Beachboys, First Among Equals,” Longboard, Volume 6, Number 2, May/June 1998, classic photo (in Rabbit’s personal collection) of Rabbit hot-dogging Queens in 1984, p. 52. See also Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, photo of Rabbit on a Ben Aipa noserider, 1970s, p. 73.
101 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 75.
102 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 65.
103See photo of Rabbit’s feet in Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 72.
104See photo of Rabbit nose trimming in the July 1994 Kahanamoku Contest, in Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 74. Also picture of he and his brother Jamma on p. 75.
105 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 76.
106 Borte, Jason. Surfline bio, January 2001.

107 Stecyk and Pezman, 1994, p. 76.

Australia After WWII

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Before World War II – and not counting the little being done in Japan and Great Britain – surfing was practiced basically in three main areas on the planet: the east and west coasts of the U.S.A., the Hawaiian Islands, and the Gold Coast of Australia. By the end of the 1940s, Peru and South Africa made the list.

Surfing had slowly grown along Australia’s “Gold Coast” after Tommy Walker first rode standing up in 1912.1 Australian surfing accelerated following Duke Kahanamoku’s demonstration of stand-up surfing in 1914-15.2

Growth can be measured in numbers of surfers, yet, surfboard evolution was stunted by the Surf Life Saving Association [SLSA]. Paddleboards were favored over more dynamic wave riding vehicles. As writer Kent Pearson pointed out, “board design was biased towards the interests of SLSA requirements and the interests of their members, concerning paddling speed rather than wave-riding performance.”3

“Board paddling in Australia became a form of athletic competition,” wrote Pearson in Surfing Subcultures of Australia and New Zealand, “which was in direct contrast to the more expressive and playful activity of wave riding itself. Thus, board design development was in complete accord with the central aims and official SLSA ideology. Stressing, as it did, the benefits of competition for rescue work, the official position also seemed to parallel general societal values on achievement and performance.”4

World War II changed things somewhat.


“World War II had several major repercussions on surf life saving,” Pearson continued. “At an international level, Australians posted overseas introduced local life saving methods to other countries. At home, club memberships were depleted by both voluntary drafting for overseas service and home conscription. Sydney beaches were barb wired and manned by troops. As a consequence, surf life saving activities declined.”5


(Manly Beach SLSC, 1939-40)


When the war ended, a major shift in surfing began to occur. “There was a big change in the manner of the members after the War,” wrote Australian surfing great “Snow” McAlister of Aussie surf life saving members. “They were restless and hard to control, despite the years of army training... It was something the clubs never recovered from, cars were becoming available and in 1948 petrol rationing was lifted (during the war we had been limited to four gallons a month) giving a new freedom to youth. Suddenly the youth were able to get mobile and were no longer anchored to the club.”6

In addition to this mass release and new freedom of movement, there were technological advances and greater consumer affluence that helped characterize the post-war period in Australia.7

“Pre-war board riding had generally been restricted to surf life saving club members,” wrote Pearson, “who based their activities at a particular beach. There were practical reasons for this...”8

“Boards were kept at club houses for the good reason of weight,” Snow noted. “They were secured upright on club verandas and fixed with a hasp and staple fitting with lock attached to the wall, both for reasons of safety and because this was a good position to let the water drain down to the bottom of the board – redwood soaked up water like a sponge.”9

The upright position was also beneficial for hollow boards – all of which had plugs at the end so that they could drain. Hollow paddle boards had become popular in Australia, due to the emphasis on rescue and paddling rather than freestyle surfing. Invented by Tom Blake in the late 1920s, hollow boards – particularly of the pointed nose and tail paddleboard variety – grew in popularity through the 1930s and ‘40s. “By the 1950s,” Pearson noted, “the hollow boards had become very popular in Australia but were difficult to ride on waves.”10

“The style of riding,” continued Pearson, “dictated by these boards was basically straight line surfing and turns were awkward and slow. Good surfing was seen as taking a wave standing, and travelling in control of the board in the same direction as the wave... In spite of the difficulty of using these boards for wave riding, they were being used more and more for just this purpose before the introduction [in Australia] of the wave-riding Malibu Board.”11

“The sport evolved slowly,” wrote surf writer Matt Warshaw, “and remained closely allied to the Surf Lifesaving Clubs,until a group of visiting American surfers introduced the lightweight balsa Malibu boards to Sydney and Victoria wave-riders in 1956. Sydney’s Gordon Woods also opened Australia’s first surf shop that year, in Bondi Beach.”12

1 See Gault-Williams, “Duke Not The First in Oz” www.legendarysurfers.com/blog/2007/12/duke-not-first-in-oz.html and “Australian Surfing, 1912” www.legendarysurfers.com/2012/01/australian-surfing-1912.html.
2 Gault-Williams, LEGENDARY SURFERS Volume 1. Chapter on Duke.
3 Pearson, 1979, p. 56.
4 Pearson, 1979, p. 56.
5 Pearson, 1979, p. 56.
6 McAlister, 1975. Quoted in Pearson, 1979, p. 57.
7 Pearson, 1979, p. 57.
8 Pearson, 1979, p. 57.
9 McAlister, 1975. Quoted in Pearson, 1979, p. 57.
10 Pearson, 1979, p. 57.
11 Pearson, 1979, p. 57. See also Gault-Williams, “1956.”

12 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, @2003, p. 27.

South Africa After WWII

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At least one area along Africa’s Ivory Coast is documented as having an indigenous type of bodyboarding as early as the 1800s.1

The earliest recorded surfing event occurred in South Africa, at Muizenberg, Cape Town, in 1919. A Capetown woman by the name of Heather Price befriended two United States Marines returning aboard a U.S. naval vessel, from World War I. The two Americans had with them a solid wooden “Hawaiian” style surfboard which they used at Muizenberg and which they also encouraged Heather to ride standing up.

In later years, Ross Lindsay’s wife Kay (Heather’s niece) visited her in Zimbabwe before her passing. At that time, Heather gave Kay the images that document the event. She said emphatically that “she surfed standing up” and made it clear that she advanced beyond lieing down flat on the board.

Heather’s riding at Muizenberg in 1919 was an isolated event and did not spark further interest in surfing in South Africa, at that time. The Marines took their boards with them when their ship sailed back to the United States.2

Also in 1919, Tony Bowman, a World War I pilot, returned from England to South Africa. After working in Johannesburg, he settled in Capt Town in 1921. Some time after 1922 and reading Jack London’s The Cruise of the Snark– where London described George Freeth and surfing at Waikiki – Tony determined to ride some waves of his own. He set about building a surfboard, which he later described as a “boat,” that he and his friend Tommy Charles could ride together. With Tony “paddling madly,” Tommy steered. From Tommy Bowman’s memoirs, he recalled “some time later” that he wrote the Honolulu Tourist Association, requesting surfing pictures, so that he could deduce the dimensions of the boards being used at Waikiki at that time.

Somewhere along the line – probably after 1929 when Tom Blake started building the first wooden chambered hollow surfboards – Tony and two friends, Lex Miller and Bobby Van Der Riet, constructed three boards using a timber framework covered with ceiling boards and wrapped in painted canvas to help make the boards watertight. The “Three Arcadians” made the boards in a workshop behind the Arcadia Tea Room. Later, they would improve their designs and were soon joined by others as surfing became popular at Muizenberg Corner.3

Meanwhile, swimming in the warm waters off Durban beaches had become popular. In 1927 and 1928, the Durban Surf Life Saving Club and Pirates Surf Life Saving Club were founded on the Australian lifesaving model. Members were competent ocean swimmers and held safety in high regard. They borrowed rescue techniques where they could, adapting them to the Durban coast while patrolling crowded beaches. “Bathing in those days consisted of waist to chest high venturing into the sea, with the more adventurous souls body-surfing and planing on rudimentary wooden ‘belly boards.’”4

One of the adventurers was Fred Crocker, a railways carpenter and member of the Pirates SLSC. By the mid-1930s, he was experimenting with various types of watercraft. “He was quite keen on going out on boats and things” and “he had made a few boards that didn’t go too well,” remembered Gabie Botha, a World Life Saving President, two time shark attack survivor and friend of Fred’s.5

The true birth of stand up surfing in South Africa did not come until after the Empire Games were held in Sydney, Australia, in 1938. Alec Bulley, South African swimming coach and member of the Durban SLSC, had visited a Sydney beach during the time of the games, to see what the lifesavers were doing there and to sketch the watercraft being used in the surf. Upon his return to Durban, Bulley gave his sketches of the Crackenthorpe surf ski to Fred Crocker who built a crude replica.6

“The Pirate’s prototype (Fred’s) was twelve foot long and two feet wide, which tapered back and front. Boarded over deck flat bottom made the craft very heavy, and two men needed courage and energy to handle it.”7 Peter Forster of the Durban Surf Club constructed two more a little later.8

World War II slowed South African surf craft design and development, but Fred Crocker kept with it. 

“The next thing he made was the Crocker Ski,” Gabie Botha recalled. “The Crocker Ski came in when I was in the war. That was about 1943. He started building Crocker Skis. Lou (Johnson) used to write me and tell me how they were building skis; he told me how they built them with a wooden frame and with them in the air-force, they used to pinch the airplane dope.”9

“In 1945 Fred Crocker constructed a smaller ski of his own design,” detailed a SA SLSC Souvenir Program from 1957. “It was 10 long, later reduced to 9 feet and two feet 6 inches wide. With a pointed nose and squared stern, was 6 inches in depth and had a framework of light timber. A revolutionary method of covering was introduced, being 18oz canvas, painted. The next improvement was the use of dope in place of paint, and made the ‘Crocker’ ski almost leak-proof, with the added advantage of strengthening the canvas, besides enabling the use of 10oz canvas which lightened the ski considerably. The ‘Crocker’ ski was hailed as the ideal craft to ride any size or type of wave.”10

The Crocker Surf Ski was a further evolution of the surf ski first invented by Dr. G.A. “Saxon” Crackanthrope, a stalwart of the Manly Club, N.S.W., Australia.11

The surf ski “probably evolved out of the use of canoes in the surf at North Bondi,” guessed legendary surfer Nat Young. “Because you paddled the ski with an oar, sitting down, it was easier to ride than a board. Originally the skis were 8’ long and 28” wide and made of heavy cedar planking, but this gave way to plywood over a light timber frame. Surf club competition drew the skis out in length and eventually another man was used to gain more speed and make it more of a team sport; this led to the standard two-man double ski, a sort of tandem bike on water. In contrast to the surfboard, the surf ski was quickly adopted by the Surf Life Saving Association as official lifesaving equipment. Surfboards, however, were tolerated by officials because so many loyal club members used them, displaying their club badges printed on the decks together with the club’s colors running in pin stripes around the rails. The surf club was a tremendously prestigious institution during this period. Australian girls liked the idea of going out with one of those ‘bronzed gods’ and the surf club ranks swelled to reach 8,454 members in 1935.”12

Crackanthrope’s original design was 8 foot x 28 inches x 6 inches thick with 12 inches of tail lift, solid cedar planks and a double bladed paddle and footstraps.13

On his second trip to Australia, Duke Kahanamoku brought back a surf ski, the first to reach Hawaiian shores. Nobody expected to be impressed by something from Australia, but Hot Curl surfer Wally Froiseth admitted, “Yeah, it impressed us. It was something new, something we’d never seen. It was great. You know, my thinking is... every area has contributed something. I don’t care where they are, these guys have contributed. Nobody can say that they did the whole thing. There’s just no way. Nobody’s got all the brains. Nobody can think of all aces. It’s good.”14

The lead role of South African Fred Crocker in design and development of his skis helped establish a community of stand-up wave riders at Country Club and other beaches in Durban. The way the skis would be ridden was to stand up holding a double bladed paddle that was secured to the nose by a rope, also ties to the paddle shaft. This tether was useful to pull the nose of the craft up as the rider leaned backwards when paddling out and for steep take-offs.15

Other water craft innovations occurred, but all were variations on the Crocker design. Around about the time of WWII, Crocker, himself, experimented with a narrow “sit-down ski” which was later used as a surfboard without the double bladed paddle. It was this type of board that was first ridden by surfers in Durban.16


1 Gault-Williams, LEGENDARY SURFERS, Volume 1, 2005.
7 Souvenir Program of the South African SLSC Championships, hosted by the Pirates SLSC, held at Country Club Beach, Durban, 21 April 1957. Parenthesis may not be from the original program.
10 Souvenir Program of the South African SLSC Championships, hosted by the Pirates SLSC, held at Country Club Beach, Durban, 21 April 1957.
11 Gault-Williams, LEGENDARY SURFERS, Volume 3: The 1930s, 2012, ISBN: 978-1-300-49071-5.
12 Young, 1983, p. 51.
13 Maxwell, 1949, p. 245; Bloomfield, p. 69; Harris, p. 56.
14 Young, 1983, p. 60. Wally Froiseth quoted.

Early History of Peruvian Surfing

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Surfing on wooden surfboards really got underway in Peru around the time of World War II.

What follows is a complete history of that period, the years afterwards and the trace back to Peru's earliest surfing history.

This chapter is also available as an eBook for $2.95 by clicking on the Paypal link below. The advantage of the eBook is that it is completely portable and can be shared and passed on to others. Importantly, the hyperlinks embedded in the book make navigation very easy and vintage Peruvian photos are included:




The Early History of Peruvian Surfing

By
Malcolm Gault-Williams
A Chapter in the LEGENDARY SURFERS Series, ©2010


Contents



Introduction


Peru is rich in surf history. While we can only conjecture as to its earliest days of riding reed craft, the stories of the early days of Peru’s modern era are now legendary across the planet.

I am indebted to the following for their contributions to this 23,069-word look at the early days of modern Peruvian surf history:

First and foremost is Oscar Tramontana Figallo, whose work in documenting Peruvian surf history was invaluable. Coming a close second is Felipe Pomar, who took time out to answer specific questions I had about his early days and the nature of Peruvian surfing especially in the 1960s. Thirdly, I am in much appreciation of the archival photos from Carlos Rey y Lama (viewable in the eBook version).

Although I credit everyone in my footnotes, I also want to thank – in the order of the appearance of their contributions – the following: Matt Warshaw, Ben Finney and James Houston, Peru Surf Guides, Glenn Hening, Marcus Sanders, Olas Peru, Fred Hemmings, Mike Doyle, Augusto Villaran, Oscar M. Brain and Juan Forero.

I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did writing it!

Aloha,


Santa Barbara, California, USA, April 2010


Pre-Inca Wave Riding


Off the west coast of South America, Pacific ground swells hit the beaches from Panama to Patagonia, producing some of the planet’s best surf. Peru, South America’s third-largest country, has a rich surfing history to go with its 1,500 miles of mostly dry and rugged Pacific-facing coastline.

“The surf in Peru is remarkably consistent,” wrote Matt Warshaw in the Encyclopedia of Surfing,“with wave height averaging between three to six foot throughout the year, thanks to long-distance north swells during the summer, a steady feed of powerful south swells in winter, and a balance of the two during spring and fall. About 80 percent of Peru’s surf spots are lefts, most of them breaking along rocky points spilling onto sandy beaches. Daytime coastal air temperatures generally range between the low 70s in summer and the low 60s in winter; water temperatures around the capital city of Lima, chilled by the Humboldt current, range from the upper 60s to the mid-50s.”1

Surfing in Peru is centered in Lima – home to one-fifth of the country’s total population. “Peru’s wave-rich northern tip faces northwest (the rest of the coast faces southwest), warmed by the Panama Current, is home to an assortment of points and reefs, including the high-acceleration tubes at Cabo Blanco, Chicama – the arid left-breaking point known as the longest ocean wave in the world, with rides sometimes lasting more than a mile – is located about 200 miles south of Punta Negra, and is flanked by at least four other high-quality breaks. Lima’s Pico Alto is the country’s premier big-wave spot, with well-shaped rights and lefts (rights preferred) breaking up to 25 feet. The country’s southern coast is lightly populated, hard to access, and rarely surfed. The number and quality of surf breaks, however, is thought to be nearly equal to that found in the north.”2

In addition to this surf wealth, the ancient land now known as Peru has the oldest documented tradition of wave riding.


Caballitos de Tortora


In relatively recent years, Peruvian world champion surfer Felipe Pomar has lead the charge for greater recognition of Peru’s wave riding heritage. Taking it a step further, Felipe has joined with a few surfing and non-surfing historians to argue that surfing as a sport originated in what is now called Peru. They point to the fact that pre-Inca fishermen were riding surf as far back as 3,000 B.C., riding waves on what Spanish conquistadors called caballitos (little horses) made of bundled reeds. This would put the Peruvians about a thousand years before the earliest estimates for surf riding in Hawai‘i.

The conventional history of surfing, of course, has it originating as a very basic type of wave riding originating in the western Pacific Ocean. Under this scenario, the first surfers were Polynesian or Polynesian ancestors. If one is to discount that surfing probably began before the Polynesians reached the Hawaiian Islands, then surfing began sometime between 2000 B.C. and 400 A.D.3

University of Hawai‘i anthropology professor and early surf historian Ben Finney acknowledged that surfing was not limited to Polynesia. In his Surfboarding in Oceania: Its Pre-European Distribution, Finney wrote that an “extensive examination of the available sources has shown that surfboarding was known in Polynesia, Micronesia, and Melanesia. In fact, surfboarding was practiced in Oceania from New Guinea in the West, to Easter Island in the East, and from Hawai‘i in the North to New Zealand in the South.” Finney cited sightings of various forms of primitive surfing in places as diverse as Owa Raha in the Solomon Islands (observed in 1949); to Yap in the Western Carolines (observed by a colleague); and south in the New Hebrides and Fiji. “With reservations,” Finney concluded, this “wide distribution would seem to indicate that surfboarding is a general Oceanic sport, rather than a specifically Polynesian sport.”4

Decades after writing the foregoing, however, Finney clarified that – lest one be easily tempted to look elsewhere than Polynesia for surfing’s earliest roots – “Indigenous board-surfing in the Pacific was most highly developed on islands within the Polynesian Triangle bounded by Hawai‘i, Rapa Nui (Easter Island), and Aotearoa (New Zealand). Early reports of surfing along the shores of islands from New Guinea to Polynesia indicate that this sport, at least in its rudimentary form, was part of the common heritage of the seafaring people who spread across the Pacific thousands of years ago.”5

So, if Polynesian surfing began before people reached the Hawaiian Islands, it is certainly older than 3,000 years ago. The fact is, we just don’t know how old surfing in eastern Polynesia is, let alone how old it is in western Polynesia. Could pre-Polynesians have surfed? It’s most certainly probable, even if it was merely bodysurfing, bodyboarding or canoe surfing.

In fact, anywhere on the planet that has surf, a moderate or temperate climate, and coastal populations of humans engaged in fishing, there must have been surfers – if only riding surf in canoes as part of work or recreationally. Also, the tendency of young peope to get into the ocean and bodysurf is a universal act. Many historians wishing to blaze new ground often forget this most obvious aspect of coastal living in all ages and all temperate coasts.

We are fortunate that the coastal Peruvians, very early on, developed ceramic art to a high degree early in their history because they left an actual record of their surfing behind. In the museum of the Peruvian city of Chan Chan, there is pottery showing Huanchaco people “running waves” on reed rafts we now call caballitos de totora (little horses of the totora reed). These reed mats were and still are used primarily for fishing, but the pottery also indicates they were also used for fun; to ride the breaking waves of the northwest coast of Peru. Dating of the ceramic artifacts prove that wave riding on reed boats existed in that country as early as 3000 to 4000 B.C., long before the Spanish invasion in the 16th Century and well before the founding of the the Incan Empire in the 13th Century.

The two ancient pre-Inca cultures, Mochica and Chimu, developed in the north of Peru more than two thousand years ago. These were the first Peruvian societies to relate actively with powerful coastal tidal zones, through fishing and transport. The people of these societies left us many examples of designs featuring waves in their religious iconography and their art expressed on textiles, frescos and ceramics.

The first Peruvians to ride waves were no doubt fishermen who had to traverse often powerful ocean waves in order to get food. Peruvians are still using the reed craft their ancestors used thousands of years ago, now in modern times. It is possible to watch them in Trujillo; Huanchaco Beach is famous for this reason.6

“In 1987,” Matt Warshaw wrote, “[Felipe] Pomar began a one-man crusade to have the fishermen of ancient Chan Chan, a pre-Inca empire located in what is now Peru’s northern territory, recognized as the original surfers. Chan Chan fishermen from as far back as 3,000 B.C., Pomar said, used reed-built caballitos (‘little horses’) to ride waves; a 15th-century warrior, furthermore, on a seagoing mission to expand Inca territory, may have introduced the caballito– and surfing – to Polynesia. ‘While there is much room for speculation,’ Pomar said in a surf magazine article, ‘there seems to be a distinct possibility that the embryonic form of modern-day surfing was born off the coast of northern Peru.’”7

“In Northern Peru,” Felipe told me, “there is pottery that shows people paddling on a surfboard-like one-man boat, paddling with their arms. There is archeological evidence that people were doing that as far back as 5,000 years ago... They're called caballitos de totora. ‘caballitos’ means ‘little horses’ and ‘totora’ is a certain kind of reed. The Spanish Conquistadores named the little reed surfboards – or the reed kayaks; they're somewhere between a surfboard and a kayak – they named them ‘caballitos’ because when they witnessed them riding waves on one of these caballitos, they were used to riding horses and they saw them riding in with the surf, so they called them ‘little horses.’”8


Thor Heyerdahl (1914-2002)


Pomar’s perspective was shared by Thor Heyerdahl (October 6, 1914, Larvik, Norway – April 18, 2002, Colla Micheri, Italy), the Norwegian ethnographer and adventurer with a scientific background in zoology and geography. Heyerdahl became notable for his Kon-Tiki expedition of the late 1940s, when he sailed 4,300 miles (8,000 km) by raft from South America to the Tuamotu Islands.

Heyerdahl’s Kon-Tiki Expedition is important in the discussion of Polynesian dispersion across the Pacific, although its premises runs counter to prevailing theory. Heyerdahl and five fellow adventurers went to Peru, where they constructed a pae-pae raft from balsa wood and other native materials, a raft that they called the Kon-Tiki. The Kon-Tiki expedition was inspired by old reports and drawings made by the Spanish Conquistadors of Inca rafts, and by native legends and archaeological evidence suggesting contact between South America and Polynesia. After a 101 day, 4,300 mile (8,000 km) journey across the Pacific Ocean, Heyerdahl’s Kon-Tiki smashed into the reef at Raroia in the Tuamotu Islands on August 7, 1947.

Kon-Tiki demonstrated that it was possible for a primitive raft to sail the Pacific with relative ease and safety, especially to the west (with the wind). The raft proved to be highly maneuverable, and fish congregated between the two balsa logs in such numbers that ancient sailors could have possibly relied on fish for hydration in the absence of other sources of fresh water. Inspired by Kon-Tiki, other rafts have repeated the voyage. Heyerdahl's book about the expedition, Kon-Tiki, has been translated into over 50 languages. The documentary film of the expedition, itself entitled Kon-Tiki, won an Academy Award in 1951.

“Anthropologists continue to believe,” Wikipedia’s history of the expedition states, “based on linguistic, physical, and genetic evidence, that Polynesia was settled from west to east, migration having begun from the Asian mainland. There are controversial indications, though, of some sort of South American/Polynesian contact, most notably in the fact that the South American sweet potato served as a dietary staple throughout much of Polynesia. Heyerdahl attempted to counter the linguistic argument with the analogy that, guessing the origin of African-Americans, he would prefer to believe that they came from Africa, judging from their skin colour, and not from England, judging from their speech.”

“Heyerdahl claimed that in Incan legend there was a sun-god named Con-Tici Viracocha who was the supreme head of the mythical fair-skinned people in Peru. The original name for Virakocha was Kon-Tiki or Illa-Tiki, which means Sun-Tiki or Fire-Tiki. Kon-Tiki was high priest and sun-king of these legendary ‘white men’ who left enormous ruins on the shores of Lake Titicaca. The legend continues with the mysterious bearded white men being attacked by a chief named Cari who came from the Coquimbo Valley. They had a battle on an island in Lake Titicaca, and the fair race was massacred. However, Kon-Tiki and his closest companions managed to escape and later arrived on the Pacific coast.”9

“When the Spaniards came to Peru, Heyerdahl asserted, the Incas told them that the colossal monuments that stood deserted about the landscape were erected by a race of white gods who had lived there before the Incas themselves became rulers. The Incas described these ‘white gods’ as wise, peaceful instructors who had originally come from the north in the ‘morning of time’ and taught the Incas’ primitive forefathers architecture as well as manners and customs. They were unlike other Native Americans in that they had ‘white skins and long beards’ and were taller than the Incas. The Incas said that the ‘white gods’ had then left as suddenly as they had come and fled westward across the Pacific. After they had left, the Incas themselves took over power in the country.”10

“Heyerdahl said that when the Europeans first came to the Pacific islands, they were astonished that they found some of the natives to have relatively light skins and beards. There were whole families that had pale skin, hair varying in color from reddish to blonde. In contrast, most of the Polynesians had golden-brown skin, raven-black hair, and rather flat noses. Heyerdahl claimed that when Jakob Roggeveen first ‘discovered’ Easter Island in 1722, he supposedly noticed that many of the natives were white-skinned. Heyerdahl claimed that these people could count their ancestors who were ‘white-skinned’ right back to the time of Tiki and Hotu Matua, when they first came sailing across the sea ‘from a mountainous land in the east which was scorched by the sun.’ The ethnographic evidence for these claims is outlined in Heyerdahl’s book Aku Aku: The Secret of Easter Island.”

“Heyerdahl proposed that Tiki’s neolithic people colonized the then-uninhabited Polynesian islands as far north as Hawaii, as far south as New Zealand, as far east as Easter Island, and as far west as Samoa and Tonga around 500 CE. They supposedly sailed from Peru to the Polynesian islands on pae-paes– large rafts built from balsa logs, complete with sails and each with a small cottage. They built enormous stone statues carved in the image of human beings on Pitcairn, the Marquesas, and Easter Island that resembled those in Peru. They also built huge pyramids on Tahiti and Samoa with steps like those in Peru. But all over Polynesia, Heyerdahl found indications that Tiki’s peaceable race had not been able to hold the islands alone for long. He found evidence that suggested that seagoing war canoes as large as Viking ships and lashed together two and two had brought Stone Age Northwest American Indians to Polynesia around 1100 CE, and they mingled with Tiki’s people. The oral history of the people of Easter Island, at least as it was documented by Heyerdahl, is completely consistent with this theory, as is the archaeological record he examined (Heyerdahl 1958). In particular, Heyerdahl obtained a radiocarbon date of 400 CE for a charcoal fire located in the pit that was held by the people of Easter Island to have been used as an ‘oven’ by the ‘Long Ears,’ which Heyerdahl's Rapa Nui sources, reciting oral tradition, identified as a white race which had ruled the island in the past (Heyerdahl 1958).”11

“Heyerdahl further argued in his book American Indians in the Pacific that the current inhabitants of Polynesia migrated not from an Asian source, but via an alternate route. He proposes that Polynesians traveled with the wind along the North Pacific current. These migrants then arrived in British Columbia. Heyerdahl called contemporary tribes of British Columbia, such as the Tlingit and Haida, descendants of these migrants. Heyerdahl claimed that cultural and physical similarities existed between these British Columbian tribes, Polynesians, and the Old World source. Heyerdahl’s claims aside, however, there is no evidence that the Tlingit, Haida or other British Columbian tribes have an affinity with Polynesians.”12

As intriguing as Heyerdahls’ theory of Polynesian origins is, it has never gained acceptance by anthropologists.13 Physical and cultural evidence has long suggested that Polynesia was settled from west to east, migration having begun from the Asian mainland, not South America. In the late 1990s, genetic testing found that the mitochondrial DNA of the Polynesians is more similar to people from Southeast Asia than to people from South America, showing that their ancestors most likely came from Asia.14 Easter Islanders are of Polynesian descent.15

Glenn Hening, Surfrider founder, president of the Groundswell Society, agrees that Peruvians could have been the first of what we might term “surfers.” Hening travelled to Peru to experience las caballitos de totora first-hand. Although he agrees Peruvians might have been the “first surfers,” he is not willing to go as far as Felipe Pomar. In a personal email to Pomar, in 2009, Hening pointed out that “Your theory about surfing craft being developed first, and from them then fishing craft, simply cannot be supported by the evidence. The evidence is that reed craft were being used up to 3,500 years ago to provide food for the large populations at Caral, Chan Chan, Tucume, etc. Your evidence of personal craft is only 1200 years old – and consists of the two ceramics at the Breuning Museum.”16

“… my contention,” Felipe responded, “is not that they were first built to have fun and then improved for fishing. My contention is that more important than having fun, or even fishing, was surviving.17

“The design tells me they were designed to ride waves. The reason riding the wave was so important is because to make it safely to the beach from outside (the ocean side of the breaking waves) you had to avoid getting caught by a set of breakers.

“If you got caught you could drown, or lose your fish (if you had been fishing).

“Riding the wave enabled the Caballito rider to rapidly ride a wave in and avoid getting smashed and upended/capsized by the waves. Riding a wave kept him out of harms way. Thus the Caballitos were designed to ride waves and used for fishing (by the fishermen), recreation (by the sons of the fishermen), and sport (by warriors, priests, chiefs, or others with free time seeking fitness, sport, or power).”18

As Thor Heyerdahl observed: “Knowing the people on the coast today, this would be the first place where surfing could have developed. 5000 years ago, they were mentally and physically exactly like us. They would do precisely as you and I do. If we have time for leisure – and in those days the royalty on the coast had all the leisure time they could ask for – there’d be nothing more natural than for them to start surfing in these waves.”19

“In areas of constant surf,” Felipe Pomar maintains, “the people had to design a unipersonal boat that could get them through the braking waves (to beyond the breaking waves) and then through the breaking wave zone to get back to shore. Riding the wave was the safest, fastest, and often the only way to get back to shore.

“The Caballito is [the pre-Incan]… design for areas with constant surf where you have to ride the wave to get back to shore. Look at the design on the caballito: length, width, scoop, bottom contour. Compare it to older surfboard design’s and Kayak’s made for riding waves. You can’t avoid seeing that the Caballito was designed to ride waves of the sea. And it is extremely sophisticated and functional considering when it was developed and the materials they had to work with.”20

“In my opinion,” continued Felipe, “what Peru has is the kind of ideal coastline for riding waves to develope and whether they were riding them on a reed caballito or riding them on some other kind of plank or just bodysurfing, the constant surf on the Peruvian coast is, in many places, like Waikiki. You know, you have the rollers coming in from way out and you can catch them and ride for long distance. So, for that reason, it’s perfectly understandable that surfing – riding waves – would develop on that kind of coastline.”21

“It is important that the Peruvians know our history in regard to Totora Horse,” Felipe Pomar emphasized.22


Peruvians and the Sea


“There is no doubt that Peruvian societies going back almost 3500 years had used the ‘caballitos’ (Spanish for ‘little horses’) for fishing purposes,” wrote Glenn Hening in “Riding Waves Two Thousand Years Ago,” “and Heyerdahl told us in an interview that those societies would have enjoyed the surf just as we do. Dr. Heyerdahl had also developed theories about ancient Peruvians sailing to Easter Island (Rapa Nui) and had confirmed the existence of stone sculptures found there depicting reed boats. Coupled with research connecting Rapa Nui to the rest of Polynesia through the ‘wayfinding’ voyages, a tenuous link could be made from Peru to Polynesia to Hawai‘i.23

Hening points to the relationship ancient Peruvians seemed to have with the ocean. “Peruvian cultures had an almost religious relationship with waves,” Glenn wrote, “… It may be very difficult to prove surfing came to Hawai‘i from Peru, but with more research in the ruins of temples and cities along the coast of northern Peru, we should eventually find definitive evidence that people were riding waves there at least a thousand years before any evidence exists of surfing in Hawai‘i. Why? Because we already have proof that riding a reed boat, and not using it for fishing, was a concept not unknown to the ancient Peruvians.

“When I say ancient Peruvians, I am talking about societies that existed before the Incas. The ruins at Machu Pichu are famous around the world, and for most people, the Incas represent the history of Peru before the arrival of the Spanish. However, there were well-developed cultures prior to the Incans, and huge cities, temples and pyramids can be found along the coast of Northern Peru that pre-date the Incas by hundreds, and in two cases, thousand of years.”24

“Those societies,” Glenn went on, “notably the Chimu and the Moche, depended largely on the ocean for their protein, and for them the ocean was a mystical place of unlimited power. They repeatedly used waves as a design element in their clothing, jewelry, and architecture. In fact, a ceremonial courtyard found in the Chan Chan ruins, not more than a kilometer from the surf, is ringed by walls covered with parallel lines, the purpose of which was to surround the people participating in the ceremonies with the power of the sea. In this case, waves were used to decorate a ‘church’, and in other societies pre-dating Chan Chan waves were used on the golden crowns of kings and their clothing. And one priesthood used waves as the symbol of their power as they exerted a strong influence over the government and daily lives in cities of up to 50,000 people.”25

“To me,” Glenn Hening wrote, “the veneration of waves by ancient Peruvians is entirely understandable. In fact, surfers everywhere cover their walls with pictures of swells, tubes, and rolling waves. It was breathtaking to visit a temple that was built overlooking a left point break along the coast north of Huanchaco and see waves six feet high carved in an endless chain along a wall still not full excavated. As a surfer, to touch those waves, even as I could hear the roar of real surf off in the distance, was as important an experience for me...”

For Glenn Hening, his conversion to viewing Peruvians as the first surfers came when he viewed “A ceramic, possibly almost 1200 years old… unearthed in 1938 by a German archaeologist, Franz Wasserman.” This ceramic “depicts a Peruvian god riding the crescent moon across the night sky, and the moon was drawn in the form of a reed boat. To me, that indicates the artist, whoever he or she was, conceived of using a reed craft for something that we could call ‘surfing.’

“Now, other evidence exists of the use of reeds to built small ‘floats’ for going out in the surf to complete ‘rites of passage’ ceremonies, given the strength and courage it takes to challenge the endless lines of surf that hit the coast of Peru. But the god riding his ‘moonship’ was a very exciting step forward in the search for the first surfer.

“As a result, I strongly believe that with more research and archaeological investigations at sites in Northern Peru, there is a good chance of finding conclusive proof that ancient Peruvians were using reed craft not only for fishing, but also recreational purposes. As Dr. Heyerdahl said, ‘People haven’t changed in fundamental ways for thousands of years, and if something is fun for us, it certainly would have been fun for them. And that includes surfing.’”

Speaking personally, Glenn wrote, “As a surfer, my memories of my trips to Peru are filled with visions of endless waves to the horizon, long walls of peeling tubes that I could ride for hundreds of meters, and the roar of surf all day and all night. As a professional historian, I was fascinated by the reed boat ceramics and the use of waves to decorate royal clothes, temples, and artwork found at many archaeological sites...”26

“When Hening started researching the coastal cultures of Northern Peru,” wrote Marcus Sanders in “Lines in the Dust – The Groundswell Society Goes to Peru 2002,” published in The Surfer’s Path,“around the fishing town of Huanchaco (about 500 miles north of Lima), he started questioning the entrenched idea that surfing began in Hawai‘i. He wasn’t the first. Some surfing historians – including Peruvian businessman and cultural historian Fortunato Quesada and Peru’s ex-world champion, Felipe Pomar – assert that the ancient Peruvians took to the waves in their ancient reed craft (called caballitos, or “little horses”) thousands of years ago. But Hening has been one of the most diligent in researching the possibilities, especially in the last couple of years.27

“… In 1994, after getting fairly fed up with Surfrider’s continual shift away from what he saw as its original vision – that is, a ‘Cousteau Society for surfers’ – Hening decided to create the Groundswell Society, which was intended to be a kind of non-corporate surfing think tank…”28

“Hening’s third question, about the history of the place, can be found in the elaborate architecture, ceramics and drawing of ancient Peruvians on display in the museums and various archaeological sites along the coast. It should come as no surprise that everything had a deep maritime influence, with examples of curling waves, breaking waves, lines to the horizon and peeling pointbreaks. There’s even a 2000-year-old temple located right on a cliff above a Honolua Bay-style left. ‘They didn’t’ build in the middle of the beach,’ Hening points out. ‘They built it right where there were lines bending in and peeling perfectly.’”

“Surfing’s direct influence is one thing,” Glenn acknowledged. “Having one’s life defined by the power of the ocean is something a little different. Surfing is a small part of our relationship with the ocean. These cultures needed the ocean to eat, but they also recognized the geometry of waves, and situated their temples not at close-out surf, but at perfect points. They were cognizant of how waves break. And they were cognizant of curling waves, of tubes – you can see it in their architecture; there are ‘Moche’ ceramics dating back to AD 200 that depict a deity riding the crescent moon as if it was a reed boat. Of course, there’s more research to be done – nothing’s been proven. But every year more and more sites are being discovered that give us more information about how people’s lives were informed by waves thousands of years ago.”29

When asked about how Polynesians and, in particular, Hawaiians felt about the Peru theory as first point for surfing, Felipe Pomar responded, “A few might like, and some not, but… There is no doubt that the art of surfing was born on the coast of Peru. This is because the former caballitos were running waves in Peru thousands of years before there were settlers in the islands of Hawaii. It is also true that in Hawaii, the art developed rapidly with new materials, and the exceptional conditions of their sea. But the oldest examples of people running waves have them in Peru.”30


Modern Era of Peruvian Surfing Begins


As for modern Peruvian surfing, it can be traced back as early as 1909. According to an article published in the newspaper El Comercio, February 28, 1960, “The origins of this activity in Peru can be found in what our water sport people call ‘riding waves.’ It was then, by 1909, that the group conformed by Alfonso and Alfredo ‘Shark’ Granda Pezet, the old Buzzaglo, Celso Gamarra, the ‘Gringo’ Schoeder and Alfonso Cillóniz, among others, engaged in ‘riding waves’ using a drawing board, in front of the beaches of Barranco. A little bit later, they were replaced by table boards.”31

By the early 1920s, there were still surfers at Barranco, north of Lima, riding “homemade boards” that were featured in a 1924 issue of Aire Libre, a Peruvian sports magazine.32 Surfing probably continued, perhaps on-and-off, until the 1930s.

“I’ve heard that there was some limited surfing at Barranco before Carlos Dogny reintroduced surfing in Peru,” Felipe Pomar told me. “A magazine has been found, dated January 9th, 1924, which has a picture of somebody standing on a board, surfing a wave, at ... Barranco. I have surfed that area. There is a beach club there called ‘Regatas’ and there is a perfect little wave that runs along a point. It’s great for bodysurfers and a lot of the members of that club would go to that beach and bodysurf. They would also bodyboard and it seems that in 1924, there was a group of friends who made themselves a larger bodyboard and they were standing on it [surfing].”33


Carlos Dogny (1909-1997)


Surfing on boards in Peru came back to life after 1938, when a Peruvian visitor to Hawai‘i by the name of Carlos Dogny [doan-NEE] Larco fell in love with the sport of the Hawaiian kings. Dogny visited Hawai‘i several times, bringing back a board given him by Duke Kahanamoku. In his home country, Dogny introduced his friends to the sport and it has been alive and thriving there, ever since.34

“In Peru and many Latin American countries, the last name – the father’s name – would be the second name,” Felipe clarified for me when I asked him about Carlos Dogny. “Instead of adding ‘junior,’ they add the mother’s maiden name. So, in Peru, you would use ‘Carlos Dogny Larco.’ In the U.S., you would use ‘Carlos Dogny’ ... Adding the ‘Larco’ would be very confusing.”35

Carlos Dogny is described in the Encyclopedia of Surfing as a “Wealthy gentleman surfer and socialite from Lima, Peru, the founder of Club Waikiki, and often referred to as the father of Peruvian surfing.”36

“Dogny was born (1909) in Barranco, the only son of a French army colonel and a Peruvian sugarcane heiress,” Matt Warshaw wrote, “and grew up in both Lima and the beachside resort town of Biarritz, France. In 1938, the 29-year-old Dogny traveled with a French polo team to Honolulu, where he learned to surf in the gentle waves at Waikiki. Hawaiian surf legend Duke Kahanamoku gave Dogny a heavy wooden board to take back to Peru; on the beach at Miraflores, on the outskirts of Lima, Dogny passed the board around to a group of similarly wealthy friends… Dogny and his small band of wave-riders have long been thought of as the original Peruvian surfers.”37

“Carlos Dogny was a globetrotter, playboy and sportsman,” acknowledged fellow Peruvians, “who circled the globe 39 times. One of his favorite sports was polo, and thanks to this, he was invited to visit Hawaii. There he learned to surf the traditional sport of kings and military chiefs with the Ambassador of Modern Surfing, Duke Kahanamoku. He named it ‘tabla hawaiana’ (Hawaiian board), and the name still holds in Peru. It required a lot of physical strength, because at that time boards were 5 to 6 meters long, of solid wood and weighed 100 kilos.”38

“During his studies in New York, the Second World War began in Europe. Even though he was a Peruvian citizen, he could have been sent to war, because he lived in the USA. To avoid this, he chose the place he found more secure and pleasant: Hawaii. But once there, he had the feeling that his life was in danger, too, because the war expanded all over the world and there was war between Japan and the USA. Due to the turmoil, he came back to South America, bringing with him by ship, one of those big boards. When he arrived in Lima he started to study the sea and [found good surf in]… Miraflores… Later on, curious swimmers came close to him while he surfed, and he taught them this new sport. Such was the interest they showed, that the most enthusiastic ones begun to produce their own boards made of wood in workshops and garages. Since there was no place to leave the boards after surfing, the famous Waikiki Club in the ‘Costa Verde’ (Green Coast) of Miraflores was established. He also was an important member in the creation of the first French surf club.”39

“The surf world’s original aristocrat organization and the long time hub of Peruvian surfing Club Waikiki,” wrote Matt Warshaw, “was founded and built in 1942, with Dogny serving as club president. In 1959, Dogny and French surfer Michel Barland cofounded the Waikiki Surf Club, France’s first surfing organization, in Biarritz. Dogny died in 1997, age 87; his ashes were spread in the ocean in front of Club Waikiki.”40

“Carlos Dogny Larco is indisputably the father of our sport in Peru,” attested Felipe Pomar. “I was lucky to meet and develop a friendship with him that lasted many years. He was a person of high society and he had a wonderful life. He circled the world… always following the summer and sun. As founder of Club Waikiki, he had a great positive influence on many people, myself included.”41

“I probably met Carlos [Dogny] as soon as I became member of Club Waikiki, when I was 14,” Felipe Pomar told me. “Carlos would have been around 48 [at that point]. Of course, when I first met him, he was just this older gentleman who was the founder of the club and the person that had brought modern surfing to Peru.”42

“Carlos was a real gentleman,” Felipe continued. “He was very out-going. He had a great education. He was extremely well-traveled. To give you an example, he only liked to spend the summers in Peru. He would follow the summer around the world. He probably did that... for over 30 years.

“He was a sportsman and he loved the beautiful women. He has been called ‘The King of the Peruvian Playboys.’ He loved the ocean, sports, and beautiful women. He said in one article that he loved the ocean and the sun and his entire life has been a summer.”

“He always told me that having balance in life is very important. And what he meant by that was that sports and surfing were great, but you should also have a business side to your life, with a social side and a spiritual side. He felt it was very important to have a balanced life.”

“He learned to surf in Waikiki in the late ‘30s and the board that he took back to Peru when he left Hawaii was a hollow Blake finless surfboard that weighed approximately 100 pounds. In the beginning, he used to surf with tennis shoes because in Peru, the beaches are made of big cobblestones, at least at the beaches where surfing first started – Club Waikiki... I remember him riding big boards and competing in tandem competitions...

“I never saw him go to Kon-Tiki or Punta Rocas, which were our big wave spots, but... in the 1970s, he visited me on Kauai and he broke a rib surfing Hanalei. It was a fairly big day and I advised him not to surf. He said he just wanted to come out and kind of look at the waves from closer up. Of course, once he paddled out and looked at the waves from closer up, he decided to catch ‘em. He got hit by surfboard and broke a rib.

“To kind of give you an idea about the kind of guy that he was, he was in great pain. We were staying at the Club Med, which was at Hanalei back then. Somehow he got into a conversation with a pretty girl that worked there and she asked him what kind of work that he did. I remember him smiling and telling her that he was a secret agent [laughs]. So, he had a good sense of humor, too.”43


Club Waikiki


Carlos Dogny founded Club Waikiki, at Miraflores, outside of Lima, in 1942. The timing was good, as “a local furniture company [had begun]… producing a small number of hollow paddleboard/surfboards.” From the outset, Club Waikiki surfers were affluent and drawn from the upper tiers of Peruvian society. They generally shunned locally made boards, preferring to ride imports from California or Hawai‘i. The country’s first surf shop didn’t open until 1975.44

Even twenty-four years later, “Due to the country’s economic conditions, participation in the sport has been limited to the wealthier class… It was the young men of this well-to-do class, already interested in beach recreations, who quickly took up surfing and have continued to support it. Today,” Finney and Houston wrote in 1966, “Peruvian surfing is characterized by a luxury found nowhere else in the surfing world… most surfers belong to the swank ‘Club Waikiki’ on the beach at Miraflores, only fifteen minutes from Lima. It was founded in 1942 by Senor Dogny and three other surfing Peruvians. Much like a yacht club in appearance, the club is equipped with fish ponds, gardens, a squash court for winter recreation, a kitchen, bar, and clothes-changing facilities; it also provides members with the services of ‘board boys’ who fetch and carry surfboards to and from the water.”45

Club Waikiki was an “Elegant, class-conscious Peruvian beachfront surfing club located in Miraflores, the wealthiest suburb in Lima,” wrote Matt Warshaw, adding that even in the 2000s, “Surfing in Peru was (and in large part remains) a pastime for the wealthy, and the sport here evolved in and around the hushed and expensively accoutered rooms and patios of Club Waikiki.”46

The club had black-tied waiters and hired ‘beachboys’ who applied surf wax to boards of club members and their visitors, would caddy the boards to water’s edge and retrieve the boards when they came in without a rider, before they hit the rocky beach.

“Dogny himself,” Warshaw pointed out, “gave a surf lesson to the queen of Denmark in the soft, rolling breakers outside the club, and the Peruvian president often hosted visiting dignitaries in the club dining room.”

“It’s built into the side of a cliff,” wrote Long Beach Surf Club president Jim Graham in 1965. “The entrance lobby is used to display surfboards and club trophies; the outside terrace has a bar, and a spacious, beautifully-kept pool surrounded by deck chairs and lounging pads.”

“Club Waikiki was remodeled in 1956 and again in 1962. The joining fee in the mid-‘60s was $25,000. More than just a surf society club, Club Waikiki was (and to a large degree remains) a power spot for those at the highest levels of Peruvian business, entertainment, and government.”47


Al Dowden and Kon-Tiki, 1953


During the summers of 1952 and 1953, Club Waikiki was visited by California surfer Al Dowden, a member of the San Onofre Surf Club. At that time, Peru was just beginning to become a favorite stop for more adventurous travelling surfers from Hawai‘i, California and Australia. Word was spreading about Club Waikiki and Peruvian surf. Dowden quickly found out that the surfboards then being used in Peru were 1930s and ‘40s era hollowboards better suited for paddling than for surfing. He extended an invitation to Eduardo Arena to visit California, and especially, to see check out the balsa and fiberglass Malibu boards most all California surfers were riding. Eduardo Arena’s visit to California was postponed until June 1954, but after he brought a Malibu chip back to Peru, a dozen members of the Waikiki quickly commissioned their own balsa wood boards from Hobie Alter.48

“Al Dowden,” Felipe answered when I asked him if he knew the story of Dowden’s influence on Peruvian surfing. “I believe that he was a pilot for an airline company, at the time, called Panagra, and flying from Santiago, Chile to Lima. He flew over the ocean just south of Lima and, from the air, saw what looked like an excellent surfing spot. So, I guess he was a member or frequented Club Waikiki while he was in Lima. He got the club members excited with the story of the surfing spot he had seen from the air.

“They made a surfari down south to explore. They found Kon-tiki, they surfed it, and they had a very difficult time. They were not used to waves of that size. They later named the spot ‘Kon-Tiki’... They tried to paddle out straight through the waves like they did at Miraflores, in front of Club Waikiki, where the surf is smaller and you can paddle straight through it. At Kon-Tiki, the waves are big and you don’t paddle straight through the white water. They did not know that. And so, they got worked, beat up, and decided it was a very dangerous spot. You know, you could possibly drown there because it was a 3/4 of a mile paddle out from the beach.”49

The Surf Report, Volume 13, Number 11, published in 1992, classifies Kon Tiki as “a big wave spot in the Punta Negra area, similar to Pico Alto. Lonely and distant, it breaks about ¾ of a mile offshore, with a range between 6 and 18 feet.”50

Kon-Tiki is an old name for the Viracocha, the great creator god in the pre-Inca and Inca mythology of the Andes region of South America. Viracocha was one of the most important deities in the Inca pantheon and seen as the creator of all things, or the substance from which all things are created, and intimately associated with the sea.51 Viracocha created the universe, sun, moon and stars, time (by commanding the sun to move over the sky)52 and civilization itself. Viracocha was worshipped both as god of the sun and god of storms.53 He was represented as wearing the sun for a crown, with thunderbolts in his hands, and tears descending from his eyes as rain.54

According to the myth recorded by Juan de Betanzos,55 Viracocha rose from Lake Titicaca (or, in some versions of the legend, the cave of Pacaritambo) during the time of darkness to bring forth light.56 He made the sun, moon, and the stars, then he made mankind by breathing into stones. His first creations were brainless giants that displeased him, so he destroyed them with a flood and made new and better ones from smaller stones.57 Viracocha eventually disappeared across the Pacific Ocean by walking on water, and never returned. Later, he wandered the earth disguised as a beggar, teaching his new creations the basics of civilization, as well as working numerous miracles. He wept when he saw the plight of the creatures he had created. It was thought that Viracocha would re-appear in times of trouble. Pedro Sarmiento de Gamboa noted that during this time incognito, Viracocha was described as ‘a man of medium height, white and dressed in a white robe like an alb secured round the waist, and that he carried a staff and a book in his hands.’”58


George “Patillo” Downing & Kon Tiki, 1954


In summer 1954, Hawaiian surfer George Downing visited Peru for his first time. The “Waikikianos” – those surfers organized under the banner of the Waikiki Club – wanted to take their surfing to a higher level, so they sent a letter to the Outrigger Canoe Club back in Waikiki, Hawai‘i, requesting them to send their best surfer to become a trainer of Peruvian surfers. Back then, George Downing had just won or was just about to win the Makaha International Surfing Championships, in November, and was elected unanimously by members of Outrigger to represent Hawaiians in Peru.59

The Makaha International Surfing Championships were held from 1954 to 1971, usually in November or December. It was regarded in the late 1950s and early 1960s as the unofficial world championships. The contest was the brain child of Waikiki Surf Club founder, surfer, and restaurant supplier John Lind.60

Downing came to Peru with a lightweight balsa wood board covered with fiberglass, not a Malibu chip but more of a gun. He spent a lot of time in the water at Miraflores, earning him the affectionate nickname of “Patillo” partly by physical appearance and partly because, like those restless seabirds, Downing spent all day in the sea.61

Downing opened the eyes of the Waikikianos by going across the waves rather than in front of them. Also, his balsa board was a huge technological step forward. Not only was it light from the wood, but the addition of fiberglass and a fin were still novel concepts to the Peruvians in the mid-1950s who were still surfing on 1930s-style boards. After a while, Downing started asking about other beaches with bigger waves than Miraflores. The Waikiki Club members, of course, remembered Kon-Tiki, discovered by Al Dowden and Mark Nichols in the “rugged raid” summer 1953.62

The following day, Downing was standing on the edge of Kon Tiki. He entered the sea of Punta Hermosa that day and rode more than a dozen waves. The Waikikianos got totally stoked watching Downing ride the big surf of Kon Tiki on his balsa board; the same spot where a number of them had been repulsed just the summer before. Downing seemingly did what he wanted with his board, riding the highs and lows of the waves in an aggressive style. The Waikikianos had the impression that they were watching a sport completely different from the one they had been practicing.63

“When George Downing arrived in Peru,” Felipe Pomar told me, “he brought a balsa wood board with a fin and he showed the Peruvian surfers that the big waves could be surfed successfully and he was the first one to do it [in Peruvian waters].”64

“George Downing went to Peru many times,” afterwards, Felipe continued. “He is greatly respected there. Peruvian surfers love George Downing. He was the first person that showed Peruvians how to successfully ride big waves and, for some reason, Peruvians really valued big wave riding thereafter.”

Back on shore with his two inseparable companions – Pitti Block and Eduardo Arena – William “Pancho” Wiese waited for Downing to come in, then borrowed his board. “Lit by the last rays of the sun, Pancho went to sea, ready to conquer once and for all the huge waves that would become legend.” As he lay on the board, “Pancho was keenly aware of the lightness of it and almost without realizing it, paddled through the breakers of Kon Tiki after many strokes. Once outside, he judged the best take-off spot and waited. Back on the shore, Pitti Block and Eduardo Arena watched their friend, not sure exactly what would happen. Soon Pancho paddled for a wave, stood at the most critical point of the ridge and descended rapidly, standing on the light balsa wood surfboard, on a wave three meters high. By all accounts, Pancho rode the wave masterfully, riding for five hundred feet of’ ‘pure dynamite,’ before making it to the beach with a big smile. From that point on, Pancho became a lover of big waves, and he vowed that someday he would dominate the outside reef of Kon Tiki.”

Pancho’s first ride at Kon Tiki made for one of the greatest days in his life. It set the stage for him to become one of Peru’s most experienced big wave riders. Some days later, just before George Downing returned to Hawai‘i, Pancho paid 120 gold sols for his surfboard – which was a pretty hefty sum back then. A few months later, Pancho was invited to participate in the Makaha International Surfing Championships International, becoming the first surfer to represent Peru in an event of international standing. With his experience in riding the waves of Kon Tiki just beginning, Pancho Wiese still came in fifth place.

George Downing won it..65

Soon after the Makaha championship, Eduardo Arena brought a number of balsa boards in from California. The heavy cedar planks the Peruvians had been using were subsequently sent “to the attic of memories.”

George Downing’s contributions were not limited to just a technological advance in surfboards and demonstrating angling across a wave face rather than riding straight in. The Hawaiian also taught the Waikikianos about training and the basics of contest organizing. The Waikikianos learned of the extensive endurance rowing, relay races and sprints that took place along the Hawaiian coast as integral elements in surf contests. Significantly for world surfing, Downing outlined how contests were organized so that the Peruvians had something to go by in organizing the First Peruvian National Championship, in 1955.66


Los Tres Mosqueteros and Kon Tiki


The discovery of Kon Tiki, as Peru’s first big wave spot, changed Peruvian surfing forever. Peruvian surfers were predisposed to treat riding the biggest wave as the true test of a surfer. Once they saw that they had world-class big waves in Punta Hermosa, that they could actually ride, big wave riding became the focus of all the top Peruvuan surfers. A trio of friends, in particular, became obsessed with the idea of dominating those waves: William “Pancho” Wiese, Eduardo Arena and Federico “Pitti” Block. They became the first of Peru’s most remarkable generation of surfers: Ola Grande Corridors. They called themselves Los Tres Mosqueteros, after the unforgettable characters – The Three Musketeers – created by Alexandre Dumas. They made a pact with each other to rule the waves of Kon Tiki.

Gradually, the habit of going to Kon Tiki spread among the other members of Club Waikiki, as well. Toward that end, they brought a part of Club Waikiki along with them. Lead by the patriarch Carlos Dogny, Los Waikikianos went on the weekend to Punta Hermosa to try their skill in the waves of Kon Tiki. Photographs from that era show the surfers sitting comfortably in elegant tables set on the sand, served by waiters dressed in impeccably clean pressed white uniforms, with clean linens, glasses, cutlery and napkins. The Waikikianos feasted on succulent banquets, warm sea breezes, the sound of distant crashing waves, and the opportunities to ride them. It was a far cry from the surf safari’s most other surfers took in places like the United States, Hawai‘i, South Africa and Australia. These forays of the Club Waikiki members to Kon Tiki took place more and more frequently as time went on. An added plus was that the beaches of Punta Hermosa – unlike Miraflores, covered with stones and full of sea urchins – had plenty of sand where blankets could be spread and children could play without harm, while surfers contemplated the surf and reveled in the riding of it. From the outset, Los Tres Mosqueteros became the top surfers of Kon Tiki.67

In a magazine published by the Club Waikiki in 1967, to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the founding of the club, Charles King and Fernandini Lama wrote about the first sessions at Kon Tiki, when they were still using the 1940s Blake-style hollow boards:

“You have to consider what these first forays into the open sea were like. The noise produced by the rumblings of the big waves inspired respect, along with the wind and mass of water that brought each of these waves. Despite our surfboards being sturdy, we all had to keep in mind the possibility of their destruction on the rocks if we lost them. Most important was ensuring the health of the ‘peg’ as it is called in nautical terms – the bronze cap located at the stern and near the ‘eye bolt’, the bronze handle each board featured. The stopper served to drain the water that inevitably crept in after a few moments use. The handle was used to hold the board with both hands, using all the weight of your body to keep the sea from sweeping it away, as often happened.”

After the first big wave season at Kon Tiki, the Waikikianos decided to make a further land acquisition south of the club. Following a general meeting held on June 12, 1955, and buying of the land, construction of the first facilities at Kon Tiki was begun, essentially serving as an annex of Club Waikiki. In this way, the club extended its rule to the beaches south of Lima, allowing surfers access to larger and stronger waves. With the acquisition of the premises at Kon Tiki, the Waikikianos now had a venue in which to hold the first national and international tournaments.68


First Peruvian National Championship, March 1955


Peru was now poised to develop both national and international championships. The first surfing tournaments followed the rules and events passed on by George Downing. These included, in addition to tests of skill on the waves, a series of competitions designed to measure strength, endurance and ability. The champion of any given contest was determined by the amount of points accumulated in the different tests.

The First Peruvian National Surfing Championship was held on Sunday, March 27, 1955, at Kon Tiki. The beach was covered by a dense fog as the white foam of the bay rumbled onshore. Suspicious of the huge rumbling coming from the unseen breakers, competitors crossed themselves before entering the water. The surfers that day included Eduardo Arena, Alfredo “Pecho” Granda, Guillermo “Pancho” Wiese and Federico “Pitti” Block. The judges were Alfredo Alvarez Calderon, Richard and Charles King, and Fernandini “Rex” Lama – all three of whom paddled out with the competitors.

“Charles King was a great Lord,” Felipe Pomar declared. “A lover of la tabla, he was one of the first Peruvians who traveled to Hawaii for surfing during the era of Duke Kahanamoku. His daughter Mannie King was one of the great surfers of the ‘60s. ‘Rex’ always supported and participated with great care in all Club Waikiki activities. This included Big Wave Championships, International Championships, World Cup ‘65, luau’s, and so on. He was several times President of the Club Waikiki. He was affectionate, friendly, kind and a great friend.”69

Such was the respect that the noise of the sea inspired, and because they could not see the exact size of the surf due to the fog and distance, competing surfers decided to go out with life jackets that day.
No wave was below seven meters high (23 feet), and although most of the surfers were already familiar with the waves of Kon Tiki, this was by far the biggest surf they’d ever been in. Charles King and Rex Lama described the scene:

“When the fog cleared a bit, we took off seaward on our boards, looking for the ‘calm channel’ we had used before, to get out, but on this occasion had completely disappeared. [Later,] The competitors had difficulty finding take-off spots, frequently changing their positions…”70

Struggling against the waves on the paddle out, both surfers and judges finally arrived in the area a little past where the waves were breaking. The first to catch a wave was Alfredo “Pecho” Granda, who, unlike his rivals who were on fiberglassed balsa boards, rode an old-style 1940s type board. Encouraged by Pecho, the young “Pitti” Block took off second, followed by Eduardo Arena and “Pancho” Wiese. Observing the surfers, judges used three criteria to score the rides: wave size, degree of difficulty, and distance traveled. After a while, it looked like William “Pancho” Wiese would win the competition, not only due to his riding of Kon Tiki, but also the points he had amassed in the other events. However, it was “Pecho” Granda who scored the biggest wave of the morning, riding for more than an estimated one hundred and fifty meters, and pushing his total points beyond those of Pancho. That day marked the beginning of big wave championships in Peru.71

“Pecho” won the contest and thus became the first national champion surfer of Peru. “Alfredo Granda’s nickname was ‘Pecho’ (chest),” Felipe explained. “Alfredo was a tall, good-looking, athletic man who also had a big chest.”72

After the celebrations and awards ceremonies, it was decided that the life jackets had made the contest more dangerous than it otherwise would have been and their use was ruled out from that point forward. Ultimately, the national championships would serve as the training ground for Peru to forge its first world champions.73

The big wave riding event was not the only determination of the winner. Points were totaled from all events, including the paddle between La Herradura and Club Waikiki, a distance of about ten kilometers (six miles) and short distance paddling speed tests of 2000, 1000, 500 and 300 meters. There were also events for women and and tandem sessions. But, the highlight of the championships, reserved for last, was the big wave event at Kon Tiki. There, surfers were judged in four aspects: size of the wave, position on the critical point of the wave, and speed and distance traveled. Winning the final big wave event did not guarantee a surfer would win the overall championship. Rather, the winner was determined by the accumulation of points earned in all events. In short, the winner had to be a comprehensive aquatic athlete. This aspect of the surfing competition was not lost on the media. At least one newspaper of the time declared that “in Waikiki there are more races than in the hippodrome.”74

In ancient Greece, a hippodrome was a stadium for horse racing and chariot racing. Some present-day horse racing tracks are even called hippodromes. The Greek hippodrome corresponded to the Roman Circus, except that in the latter only four chariots ran at a time, whereas ten or more contended in the Greek games, so that the width was far greater, being about 400 feet (120 meters), the course being 600 to 700 feet (210 meters) long. The hippodrome was distinct from a Roman ampitheatre which was used for spectator sports, games and displays, or a Greek or Roman semi-circular theater used for theatrical performances.75

The Greek hippodrome was usually set out on the slope of a hill, and the ground taken from one side served to form the embankment on the other side. One end of the hippodrome was semicircular, and the other end square with an extensive portico, in front of which, at a lower level, were the stalls for the horses and chariots. At both ends of the hippodrome there were posts (termai) that the chariots turned around. This was the most dangerous part of the track, and the Greeks put an altar to Taraxippus (disturber of horses) there to show the spot where many chariots wrecked.76

Although all events of the Peruvian championships helped determine the winner, it was the big wave event that was scored the highest. “Peruvians always gave more weight to the big wave riding,” confirmed Felipe Pomar, “so the main contest in Peru was always the big wave event.”77


First Peruvian International Championship, 1956


Carlos Dogny went back to Hawai‘i in 1955 and competed in the Makaha Championship in November/December. While there, he was particularly struck with the image of women surfing in competition. In Peru, up to that point, surfing had been pretty much a man’s game. Dogny thereupon invited the female members of the Hawaiian Waikiki Surf Club to attend the forthcoming Peruvian meet only months away. Following that, he then extended an invitation to the club as a whole, to send a team to compete in what was first known as the “South American Championships”.78 Although the Hawaiians did not participate in numbers, in Peru, until 1957, once they did, for years afterwards, there was a back and forth exchange of Hawaiian and Peruvian surfers riding together in each other’s country. This cross-pollination peaked in the mid-1960s.

The Peruvian International Championships – later “renamed Peru International”79– were held from 1956 to 1974, usually in February or March. For many, it became “one of the sport’s biggest and most prestigious events,” wrote Matt Warshaw. “The Peru International Surfing Championships were conceived, developed, and underwritten by Club Waikiki… and directed by club member Carlos Rey y Lama.”80

“Carlos Rey was a great gentleman,” Felipe Pomar said of Carlos “Rex” Rey y Lama. “He was very involved with Club Waikiki. He was president of the club on, possibly, more than one occasion. He visited Hawaii. He met Duke Kahanamoku and he was very influential in organizing a lot of the internaional events and… judging many of the international competitions.”81

“The 1956 debut event,” continued Matt Warshaw, “was little more than a friendly scrimmage between Club Waikiki and the San Onofre Surfing Club of California; it was held at Kon-Tiki, and won by future International Surfing Federation president Eduardo Arena. For the 1957 event, the Peruvians competed against a team of Hawaiian surfers. A small group of Californians attended the third edition of the contest in 1961, won by Surfer magazine founder John Severson.”82

The San Onofre Surf Club participants included: Albert Dowden, Tom Wilson, Richard De Witt, Robert Silver, Reinz Wundelick. The Peruvian team consisted of: Eduardo Arena, Augusto Felipe Wiese, Fernando Arrarte, Federico Block, Felipe de Osma, Ramón Raguz, Rafael Navarro, Alfredo Granda, Richard Fernandini, Herbert Mulanovich, Alfredo Hohaguen, Guillermo Wiese, Armando Vignati, and Dennis Gonzáles.

Al Dowden, president of the San Onofre Surf Club, accumulated the most points winning in the combined tests, but in the waves of Kon Tiki, Eduardo Arena dominated the competition. Because the big wave event is valued so highly by Peruvians, Arena is considered Peru’s first International Champion. He joined a very short list that included George Downing, who had won the first international championship held at Makaha in 1954.

Like the national championships, the international was divided into different trials, through which the participants piled up their points. The 1000 meter paddling race was won by Eduardo Arena. The 2000 meter race was won by Dowden. The tandem competition was won by Felipe Augusto Wiese carrying on his shoulders the beautiful Karla Eberl. The rowing event from La Herradura to Club Waikiki was won by Dowden.83


Overall Results:

1.Albert Dowden (USA), 32 points
2.Eduardo Arena, 20 points
3.Augusto Felipe Wiese, 8 points
4.Fernando Arrarte, 8 points
5.Federico Block, 8 points
6.Robert Silver (USA), 4 points
7.Federico de Osma, 3 points
8.Ramón Raguz, 2 points
9.Rafael Navarro, 2 points
10.Alfredo Granda, 1 point84


Results of surfing at Kon Tiki:

1.Eduardo Arena, 14 points
2.Albert Dowden, 11 points
3.Pitti Block, 8 points85


Second Peruvian International, 1957


Peru held its Second International in 1957, attended for the first time by a team of Hawaiians including Conrad Cunha, Robert “Rabbit” Kekai, Ethel Kukea and Roy Ichinose. Conrad Cunha won the Big Wave Competition held in Kon Tiki, Rabbit Kekai dominated the rowing between La Herradura and Waikiki, and Eduardo Arena won the 1000 meters race.86

“… by the end of the decade,” wrote Matt Warshaw, “the renamed Peru International was second in surf world prestige only to the Makaha International. The contest ran continuously until 1974.”87

The Peruvian team consisted of Eduardo Arena, Dennis Gonzáles, Héctor Velarde, Augusto Felipe Wiese, Guillermo Wiese, Federico Block, Fernando Arrarte, Alfredo Hohaguen, Oscar Berckemeyer. The Hawaiian team comprised Rabbit Kekai, Conrad Cunha, Robert Ichinose and Ethel Kukea.88


Results:

1. Conrad Cunha, 12 points
2. Guillermo Wiese, 8 points
3. Federico Block, 6 points
4. Rabbit Kekai, 4 points
5. Eduardo Arena, 4 points
6. Augusto Felipe Wiese, 4 points89


Felipe Pomar (1943- )


It was during this period, beginning in 1957, that Felipe Pomar, aged 14, began his life as a surfer.

“Debonair regularfoot surfer from Lima, Peru; winner of the 1965 World Surfing Championships, and one of the 1960’s most dependable big-wave performers,” wrote Matt Warshaw, “Pomar… won the Peru International in 1962, 1965, and 1966 (placing second in 1963 and 1967), was a four-time finalist in the Duke Kahanamoku Invitational between 1965 and 1969, and finished second in the 1970 Smirnoff Pro. All of these events were held in oversize surf.”90

Felipe Pomar was born in Lima, Peru’s capitol city, on November 24, 1943. His parents were Don Felipe and Dona Carmela Pomar Tenaud Quimper Rospigliosi.91

“We lived in Lima, in a place called San Ysidro,” Felipe told me. “My grandfather had come from Europe and purchased some plantations a couple of hours outside of Lima. My dad loved sports. He played polo, raced cars and he liked big game hunting. He went to Africa, you know, on the big game hunt, and came back with stuffed lions and leopards and elephants and buffaloes, great kudus, and all kinds of stuff.

“My dad took me hunting on a couple of occassions... but I didn’t enjoy it. I enjoyed a little tennis and played a lot of badminton and the swimming.”92

“During the summertime, I would go to my dad’s hacienda and ride horses. I had my favorite horse which I was the only one who rode him. During the school year, nobody would ride him and when I would come back in the summertime, I’d get on him and he would always throw me off because I wouldn’t let anybody else ride him.”93

“I first went to an American school called Franklin Delano Roosevelt and from there I was transferred to a British school called Markham College.

“My life was kind of boring until I started surfing. I used to do competitive swimming. I disliked the rigorous training. We were forever swimming from one end of the pool to the other. So, when I found surfing, it was practically love at first sight. I had excitement, fun and exercise, but it didn’t feel like work.”94

In 1957, Pitti Block introduced Felipe to Club Waikiki and surfing.95

“After a slow start I fell in love with surfing,” Felipe recalled. “I loved the fun, freedom and excitement it offered in contrast to the tidious long workouts and discipline required for competitive swimming.”96

“Pitti [Pee-tee] was a friend of my family. When I was young – maybe 13 or 14, he used to come and visit us. The story I heard was that every time he visited my family’s home and he wanted to use the phone, the line was busy because I was on the phone talking to my girlfriend. So, Pitti decided that it would be good for me to get involved in something that got me out of the house.

“So, he took me to Club Waikiki, leant me a surfboard, and basically got me into surfing. He also shaped my first surfboard and he is – to this day – one of my best friends.”97

“My earliest memories of Club Waikiki,” Felipe told me wistfully, “... it was a wonderful place for a young surfer – a young, impressionable surfer. I got to meet all these older guys who were wealthy, successful, interesting. There was Carlos Dogny, the founder of the club. There were the Peruvian national big wave champions and they were all there. I got to meet them and they became my friends and I got to hang out and surf with them. And, so to me, that was a wonderful time [in my life] and I totally loved the Club Waikiki and the members and the surf.”98

“When Pitti took me to learn surfing at the Club Waikiki, I met Joaquin Miro Quesada, who was about my age. We both wanted to learn to surf and surfed at every opportunity. Pitti built my first balsa wood surfboard in his factory. Shortly afterwards, I met Pancho Wiesse, who was married to Pina Miro Quesada, Joaquin’s sister. Pancho was the first big wave surfer at Kon Tiki. Joaquin and I loved both Pitti and Pancho and always tried to convince Pancho to go to Kon Tiki. Pancho was at that time the National Champion big wave surfer, so it was never very hard to talk him into it. Sooner or later we all would be heading towards Kon Tiki. At that time, there was never anyone else in the water. Other champions of the Ola Grande at the time were Pitti Block, Eduardo Arena, Dennis Gonzales and Alfredo ‘Chest’ Granda.”99

“Pancho Wiese [Vee-see] was a great sportsman,” Felipe Pomar attested. “He was both a national squash champion and a national big wave champion.
“Pancho mentored myself and Joaquin Miro Quesada. We were the two young, up-and-coming surfers who also loved big waves and Pancho was the guy who took us down there [Kon-Tiki] to surf.”100

“My surfing buddy, Joaquin Miro Quesada and I were the youngsters among other Club Waikiki members. We were the first club members to surf through the cold Lima winter, before wetsuits. We would run up and down stairs, and do high-intensity exercises to get as hot as possible. Then we’d go surfing and see how long we could last in the cold ocean water.”101

“Joaquin and I started surfing almost every day. When summer ended, the other surfers normally quit surfing until the following summer. Joaquin and I were still entering the sea in winter, without wetsuits, because at that time they were unknown. We did lots of exercise, ran to get very hot and sweaty so we could last out in the cold water as long as possible. I remember being in the water, so cold and blue when Joaquin told me: ‘Imagine you’re in the Sahara, dying of heat.’ Running waves all year and doing much exercise, apart from surfing, kept us in excellent shape. That, plus a passion for surfing allowed us to both excel, as Joaquin also won many championships and became National Champion.102

When asked who motivated him when he was starting out, Felipe Pomar replied:

“Definitely Pitti Block, who taught me how to surf. Sources of inspiration were Joaquin Miro Quesada, Pancho Wiese, Pocho Caballero, the unforgettable Carlos Dogny and Eduardo Arena, who organized the best world championships ever.”

“My great friend Pitti Block took me to the Waikiki club when I was about 14 years old. The members were all surfers and a group of really admirable people. I was fortunate to meet and establish friendship with Carlos Dogny, Pancho Wiese, Eduardo Arena, Carlos Rey y Lama, ‘Kichi’ Mulanovich, ‘Pocho’ Knight and many more friends.”

Of the surfers of his own generation, notable were Joaquin “Shigi” Miro Quesada, Miguel Plaza, and Héctor Velarde.

“Joaquin ‘Shigi’ Miro Quesada had a real passion for surfing. By his love and dedication to surfing, he deserved to be world champion. ‘Shigi’ was a great lover of surfing and should be remembered as a great surfer, and National Champion, who was promoted to the next generation. ‘Shigi’ risked his life on a grand adventure in the North Shore of Hawaii. Unfortunately luck did not accompany him. ‘Shigi’ died running waves at Pipeline, one of the most difficult and dangerous waves of Hawaii. He died at an early age, and therefore we will never know what more he could have achieved in his life. Joaquin died in his prime, running waves in the most dangerous place in Hawaii, Pipeline. I miss him a lot because he was like my brother. Joaquin ‘Shigi’ Miro Quesada deserves to be remembered for his valuable contribution to our sport. In my opinion, there should be a memorial event with his name.103

In 1959, Peru’s national big wave champion “Pancho Wiesse took us [Shigi and I] under his wing,” continued Felipe. “Pancho would drive us to Kon Tiki, Peru’s big wave spot, and we had amazing fun and great adventures. Ninety-nine percent of the time we were the only surfers in the water. Joaquin and I discovered many of [what are now] Peru’s most popular surfing spots.”104

“I liked to surf Kon Tiki the most. It was so exciting, each session was an adventure. I also liked the Pampilla, because it was so much fun. Joaquin and I were the first to surf there. For a time, it was like our secret beach. I also liked Triangle, because it was a very clean and perfect wave.”105

“My generation learned to surf Ola Grande from Pancho Wiese, Eduardo Arena, Dennis Gonzales, Pitti Block and ‘Pecho’ Granda. They were the Champions of Kon Tiki and taught us how to ‘run the blue.’

“Miguel Plaza I knew very little during my years in Peru. It was only after being in Hawaii that I got to know him better. Miguel has had a long and successful career… in international competition.”

“The best surfers in my generation were the brothers Velarde, Carlos and Hector.

“Hector Velarde was my teacher for several years; a great athlete, great surfer, great athlete, great champion like his brother Carlos Velarde.

“Hector and Carlos were studying in the United States between the years 1958 to 1961. Joaquin and I were young surfers who were winning most of the competitions in their absence. They were a few years older and had more experience. They had already surfed in Hawaii. In addition, both had impressive physiques and, in my opinion, were the best surfers in Peru at that time. Joaquin and I were like 17 or 18 when they returned to Peru, and immediately we became friends. I admired the skill of both and learned a lot from them, besides sharing fond memories and beautiful moments.”

“Between 1961 and 1963,” Felipe continued, “Héctor Velarde – in my opinion – was the most comprehensive and experienced surfer in Peru. We were like brothers: Carlos, Hector Joaquin and me. Hector was my older brother and possibly the person who most influenced my decisions at that time. Joaquin was like my younger brother and Carlos and Hector my older brothers Carlos. Carlos was already working at the time. The three of us were dedicated to the surfing. Hector became our ‘Kahuna,’ and Joaquin and I were like his disciples.

“There are many great surfers who stood out in my time. Unfortunately, I can not give all the respect they deserve. They know who they are. Those I must mention are: Pitti Block, for introducing me to surfing and giving me his friendship; to Pancho Wiese, for sharing his great surfing; to Eduardo Arena, by his example and support; Los Lobos brothers, by the beautiful times we shared; to Rafael ‘Mota’ Navarro, ‘Pocho’ Caballero, Raul Risso and many of the friends with whom I shared memorable days and waves.”

“Gordo Barreda I knew slightly because of our age difference. After I left Peru for Hawaii… I met [his] mom, Sonia Barreda… Gordo surfed very, very well, and had a nice style. At one time, the Barreda brothers were the best surfers in Peru.”106


1959


Thanks to the contact established with Hawaiian surfers from the Second International Championship, a Peruvian delegation traveled to Hawaii in 1959. Invited by the Outrigger Canoe Club in Honolulu, Carlos Rey y Lama, Richard Fernandini, Federico “Pitti” Block and Fernando Arrarte were lucky to represent Peru in Hawai‘i.

Travelling with the Peruvian team were Cesar Barrios, Carlos Aramburu, Rosalba Daly King and Cecilia Tudela de Aramburu. On Sunday, July 12, 1959, the board competitions were held on the beach at Waikiki. The Peruvian team faced the best surfers in the world and a large crowd of Hawaiian spectators. The Peruvians put in a respectable showing in the competition organized by John Lynn and endorsed by Duke Kahanamoku.107

One of the most memorable moments at Club Waikiki occurred in 1959. According to an account in the newspaper El Comercio, about 12:45 p.m., Richard Payet Fernandini spotted a squadron of planes flying over the ocean, north to south off the coast of Miraflores. From the direction they were flying, Fernandini was sure they would soon disappear behind the hills of Chorrillos, when suddenly one of the planes appeared to drop a device in the water. The plane consequently lost altitude. Facing the Club Waikiki, the military plane flew to a height of a hundred meters, across from the Quebrada de Armendariz, practically at sea level. Fernandini and his friends first thought it was a reckless aerobatic maneuver by the pilot, but then they saw the plane hit the water, bounce on the surface and quickly sink. Fernandini, “Pitti” Block, and two other Waikikianos jumped into a car with their boards loaded, and drove as close to the downed plane as possible. Running into the water, they paddled as fast as they could to cover the thousand meters separating the plane from the shore. They were able to reach the pilot in time to save his life, initially finding him floating unconscious, face up. They laid him on top of three of the boards, on his back, and swam in shifts until they reached the beach.108

Another landmark event not only in Peruvian surf history, but French, too, occurred in October 1959. On one of his many trips to the land of his ancestors, Carlos Dogny Larco took his board to France and gave a demonstration on the waves of the French resort at Biarritz. Vacationers were surprised to see a man surfing off the beach in front of them and younger people were quick to show interest. As a result of, Dogny helped establish an extension of Club Waikiki at Biarritz, named “Club Makaha.” Over time, French surfers would give high importance to international events, many of them participating in world championships organized by the International Surfing Federation.109


The 1960s


Peruvian surfing in the 1960s amounted to the emergence of the country and its surfers squarely upon the international surfing scene.

By the decade’s beginning, the Makaha International was the unofficial but generally recognized venue for international competition. It had been running since 1954. The 1962 Peru International was attended by teams from California, Hawai‘i, Australia, France, as well as Peru. Surfer, film maker and magazine editor John Severson later wrote that, in his estimation, the 1962 Peru International was “the first successful event where teams from most of the leading surfing areas of the world were represented.” The 1962 Peru International, however, pointed out the need for an international set of surfing competition rules, “as the Peruvians judged solely on speed and length of ride instead of maneuvers and form; changes were made in 1964.”110


Peruvian Surfing Federation, 1962


“The Peruvian Surfing Federation (PSF) was formed in 1962, two years before [Eduardo] Arena created the Lima-headquartered International Surfing Federation,” wrote Matt Warshaw. “As chairman of the organization, Arena brought the 1965 World Surfing Championships to Punta Rocas, Lima, with local big-wave specialist Felipe Pomar winning the event. Pomar, Hector Velarde, Sergio ‘Gordo’ Barreda, and Oscar ‘Chino’ Malpartida were the country’s top performers in the ‘60s and early ‘70s. The PSF launched Tabla Hawaiiana, Peru’s first surfing magazine, in 1970, and hosted a number of surfing events, including the international Carlos Dogny Pro Surfing Classic in the early ‘80s, a series of second-tier pro tour events in the ‘90s, and the annual National Championships. (Lima surfer Magoo de la Rosa won the Nationals seven times between 1983 and 2001). A small number of big-wave contests have been held at Pico Alto since 1993.”111


Eduardo Arena (1928- )


“Baronial surf contest organizer from Lima, Peru,” is how Eduardo Arena is referred as in the Encyclopedia of Surfing, “founder, in 1964, of the International Surfing Federation, and director of the World Surfing Championships in 1965, 1966, 1968, 1970, and 1972.”112

“Eduardo Arena was also a great surfer,” Felipe Pomar told me. “He also was the Peruvian national big wave champion. He was an engineer. He represented Peru in the 1964 contest in Australia that was given the name ‘world contest.’

“While he was there, the people representing the different countries that assisted the ‘64 so-called ‘world contest’ in Australia, decided it was time to form some kind of an association. So, during that contest, they formed an association and called it the World Surfing Federation.

“Eduardo was elected as the first president of the World Surfing Federation. He proposed that Peru – basically himself and Club Waikiki – would organize the first official world championships which were held in Peru in 1965.”113

“Eduardo Arena is a great Lord in every way: big wave champion, engineer, first president of the first International Surfing Federation, organizer of the First World Surfing Championships held in the country (and several more). Eduardo Arena – besides all this –was a great sportsman, a great swimmer, and a real ‘Monster’ in Hawaiian surf. Eduardo Arena must be remembered and recognized as the Father (and the main organizer) of surfing as a competitive sport in Peru and the World. I personally have great affection and respect for the famous ‘Monster’ – his nickname given because of his style of surfing.”114

Before Felipe’s time, of course, Eduardo Luis Caballero Arena was already a well respected surfer and a major influence on Peruvian surfing. He was born in 1928, raised in Lima, “and began riding waves in 1946 in front of Club Waikiki in Miraflores, the birthplace and longtime hub of Peruvian surfing,” wrote Matt Warshaw. “He earned an engineering degree from Lima’s National University in Lima in 1950, and three years later took a master’s in engineering from UCLA. He won the debut Peru International contest in 1956, and in 1964 traveled to Sydney, Australia, to represent Peru in the first World Surfing Championships. While in Sydney, Arena laid the groundwork for the formation of the International Surfing Federation (ISF), to consolidate the surf world’s quickly multiplying organizations, and to provide an overseeing body for future World Championship events. A few weeks later the group was chartered, with Arena elected chairman.”115

“The ISF produced the 1965 World Championships, held in Lima, with Arena serving admirably as contest director; ‘a dapper Peruvian gentleman,’ Australian contestant Nat Young later recalled, ‘with a warm smile and a distinguished mane of gray hair.’ It was Arena, more than anyone else, who first codified the rules and regulations of international competitive surfing. Arena also helped convince ABC to cover the 1966 World Championships in San Diego, California, as well as the 1968 Championships in Puerto Rico. The 1970 and 1972 Championships (held in Victoria, Australia, and San Diego, respectively) didn’t go nearly as well as the previous three, and in late 1972 Arena and the ISF both quietly withdrew from the surf scene.”116


Peru International, 1964


Not counting the Makaha International, which ran from 1954 to 1971, and which was “regarded in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s as the unofficial world championships,”117there were only a handful of competitive venues that had world stature in the 1960s. The first big one was held in Australia in 1964 and won by Bernard “Midget” Farrelly, Australia’s 1st internationally recognized surf champion. This contest was closely followed by the Peruvian Invitational Championships in March of 1964 and later by the higher visibility 1965 and 1966 World Surfing Championships. “There was no professional surfing then,” explained Fred Hemmings, “so the World contest was the ultimate competition.”118

“Divisions and events multiplied quickly” as the Peruvian International evolved, “and by 1964 the weeklong event produced winners in Kon-Tiki (big surf), Waikiki Shorebreak (hotdogging), Waikiki First Break (mid-size), Women’s Hotdogging, Tandem Surfing, and nine different paddling races. (An overall champion was declared in the early versions of the contest, but the Kon Tiki winner has over the years come to be synonymous with the Peru International winner).”119

Phil Edwards and Bo Beck represented California,” recalled Fred Hemmings of the Peruvian International of 1964. “Australian surfers were world traveler Peter Troy, Mike Hickey and Rex Banks. We were all guests of Club Waikiki, founded in 1941 by Peruvian surfing patriarch Carlos Dogny…

“The contest was held at Kon Tiki. It was the original and only frequented big wave spot in Peru. I noticed that the texture of the Peruvian waves were so different from Hawaii. Waves do have ‘personalities.’ Some say that the waves are like women. The waves in Hawaii are sassy, powerful, and arrogant. Kon Tiki, in Peru, provided waves that were slow, methodical, and deceptive. The Kon Tiki wave did not look difficult, but looks can be deceiving. Most Peruvians at the time surfed right in front of Club Waikiki in Miraflores, on the coast of Lima.”120

“Surfing in Peru was in its infancy,” Hemmings went on. “The senior statesmen of the sport besides Carlos Dogny were Poncho Wiese and Eduardo Arena. Hector and Carlos Velarde, Miguel Plaza, Pitti Block, the Barreda brothers, Poncho Ambarru, Rafael Navarro and the late Joquin Mirio Quesada made up the core of regulars.”121


International Surfing Federation (ISF), 1965


Earlier in 1964, when the world championships were held in Sydney, Australia, Eduardo Arena proposed the creation of an entity to govern the sport throughout the world. Born at the home of Pancho Wiese, in 1965, the International Surfing Federation (ISF) had as its first president and secretary Eduardo Luis Caballero Arena. One of the main goals of the ISF was to establish and regulate the rules for world championships, based on the experiences of the tournaments organized in Peru in 1962 and Australia in 1964.122

While in Sydney, Eduardo Arena offered Peru as the site of the first “official” World Championships and his proposal was met enthusiastically. Taking into account the pilot contest organized in Peru in 1962, there was no reason to think that a more organized, internationally-participated championship would be anything other than a great success. Thus, invested with both the necessary authority and the immense responsibility of organizing a championship, Arena returned to Peru and went to work organizing the first official world surfing championships.123

Raising the necessary funds seemed a daunting task. However, thanks to the collaboration of various commercial enterprises – including the daily El Comercio, Pepsi Cola, Lobitos Oil Company, Aerolineas Peruanas, the Peruvian Tourism Corporation and the National Sports Committee – the committee chaired by Eduardo Arena accomplished what had at first seemed impossible.
Taking a cue from the championships held in Australia, Arena visited the offices of the National Broadcasting Company (NBC), in New York, and talked with company executives about television coverage. Arena pointed out that surfing had already captivated a large number of young people around the world and that the transmission of a global surfing event, held in the idyllic setting of the Peruvian coast, would be a great ratings success. NBC agreed and Arena returned to Peru with a signed agreement.124

Meanwhile, the organizational efforts of Arena and the International Surfing Federation continued. In those days, communications was much more limited than it is today. In addition to postal airmail, the primary tools were the telephone and telex networks coupled to teleprinters (a.k.a. teletype), an electromechanicaltypewriter that could communicate typed messages from point-to-point and point-to-multipoint using a simple electrical connection. Eduardo Arena used the telex so often with contacts in countries as diverse and far apart as Australia, South Africa, France and United States, that the local telex operator wondered who he was. Intrigued by the many calls Arena received from around the world, the operator finally asked him who he was. He was surprised that Arena was not a senior government official, consul or cultural attaché.125

The truth was that for the first time, there was someone coordinating organized surfing on a global scale – in effect, representing surfers around the world. Eduardo Arena was the man to do it and by so doing, he helped create in the various national organizations a sense of belonging to something bigger.126 Arena’s work helped different countries hold surfing contests that could be fairly compared one country to the next. The competitions were all put on a “level playing field” so that each country could also advance its own top winners to the world contests and be legitimately recognized as a champion in his or her own right.

The International Surfing Federation was created on Thursday, February 13th, 1965, at the home of Guilllermo “Pancho” Wiese. The meeting began at 6:45 p.m., chaired by Eduardo Arena, President of the Club Waikiki, Lima, Peru. The minutes from that meeting:

EDWARD ARENA: There is a need to legalize the International Surfing Federation and officially and legally recognize the Champion of the World Championship.

GEORGE DOWNING: The motion addresses the need to form an association called the International Surfing Federation consisting of one (1) official representative of each of the participating nations:

Eduardo Arena – Perú (Presidente)
Luis Caballero – Perú (Secretario)
Robert Evans – Australia
Wally Froseith– Hawai‘i
Max Whettland – Sudáfrica
Joel De Rosney – Francia
Jim Graham – Mainland USA

JIM GRAHAM: Peru will host the first World Surfing Championships 1965, held in February. Each country will present a team of 4 surfers (adults, 18 years or older), 2 young (17 or younger) and 2 females (no age limit). There will be guest judges from Hawaii, USA and Australia. Each of these categories played world titles in Peru.

PANCHO WIESE: He began a discussion about what the methods for judging the participants of the championships would be. After discussion, the following guide has been established to try all of the ISF championships, according to five main points: speed, distance, surfing the critical part of the wave, radical maneuvers and biggest wave.127


First World Championship, 1965


While preparing for the first “official” World Championship, in 1965, a major concern of the International Surfing Federation and Eduardo Arena was to choose the best possible site. Naturally, the Peruvian team members immediately thought of Kon Tiki, the scene of their prior international competitions. It had the qualities that could test all participants: size, strength, perseverance and speed. But, the break also had its drawbacks. Judges did not have a place to carry out their duties in qualifying, and there was no good place for the public to watch. Discussion on this topic actually got heated at times, until one day, Punta Rocas came up as an alternative.128

Punta Rocas is just slightly south of Kon Tiki. It’s an excellent reef break with rights and lefts and breaks all year, but best between December and March, with a range of 5-to-15 feet.129 It had been surfed for the first time just the year before, in the summer of 1964, by Australian surfer Peter Troy and Peruvian Rafael “Mota” Navarro. It had been a warm summer evening. The two had just been eliminated in the semifinals of the Peru International held at Kon Tiki. They paddled south down to Punta Rocas. Peruvian surfers had noticed the waves there before, but it wasn’t until Troy and Navarro, that anyone actually thought of riding the spot. This might have been due in large part to the fact that the surf literally crashing against the algae-covered rocks there in an era before leashes. According to Hector Velarde, hundreds of people came down to watch Troy and Navarro that first day it was ridden.130

When the site was checked out the following year with the World Championships in mind, waves were noted coming in an orderly manner, with good size and shape, and what was more, there was a natural esplanade that would facilitate the work of judges and would allow the public enjoy the show.
So, the “first” World Surfing Championships were held at Punta Rocas, just outside of Lima. This contest marked a milestone in world competition, with a 54-man line-up that included the world’s best big-wave riders. It was held in 10-to-12 foot surf with 2,000 Peruvians watching. Participating surfers came from Hawai‘i, California (USA), Australia, France and South Africa. It began on February 18, 1965.

The new rules set by the ISF called for four foreign judges and one national. Surfers were to be judged according to five main criteria: speed, length of ride, riding the most critical sections, radical maneuvers, and the largest wave.131

Teams in each nation were represented by the following surfers:

PERÚ: Felipe Pomar, Gustavo Tode, Héctor Velarde, Rafael Navarro, Pancho Aramburú, Joaquín Miró Quesada, Luis Miró Quesada, Carlos Velarde, Leoncio Prado, Sergio Barreda, Miguel Plaza, Manolo Mendizábal, Javier Parraud, Dennos Gonzáles, Rafael Hanza, Carlos Barreda, José Peña, Germán Costa, Luis Ratto y Carlos Aramburú.

HAWAI‘I: Richard Keulana, Bobby Cloutier, Aldrich, George Downing, Fred Hemmings, Paul Strauch.

UNITED STATES: Mike Doyle, Richard Chew, Robert August, Nat Adler, John Severson, Phil Edwards, Lille, Danny Lenehan, David Nuuhiwa, Martinson, Biggles, Graham, Mickey Munoz, Joey Cabell, Grimstad and Bill Fury.

AUSTRALIA: Nat Young, Midget Farrelly, Evans and [Rodney] Sumpter.

FRANCE: Phillipe Gerard and Joel De Rosnay.

SOUTH AFRICA: Max Wettland, and Anthony Vandeuheuve.132

Eduardo Arena suffered a deep cut on his foot that forced him to limp throughout the tournament. International judges were invited from every participating country, appointed by the ISF under the auspices of experienced and seasoned Peruvian national surfer William “Pancho” Wiese.133

Peruvian President Fernando Belaúnde Terry opened the World Championships. Belaúnde Terry (October 7, 1912 – June 4, 2002) was President of Peru for two terms (1963–1968 and 1980–1985). Deposed by a military coup in 1968, he was re-elected in 1980 after twelve years of military rule. During both terms, economic turbulence and the increase of terrorist activities in the country led to human rights violations by both insurgents and the Peruvian armed forces. Despite these, Belaúnde Terry maintained a reputation for personal integrity and commitment to the democratic process.134

After the opening ceremonies, the tandem and rowing events began the championships. Results are as follows:

2000-meter rowing:

1. Felipe Pomar (Perú)
2. Anthony Vandeuheuve (South Africa)
3. Pacho Aramburú (Perú)


Tandem:

1. Mike Doyle / Linda Merril (USA)
2. Jim Graham / Heather Edwards (USA)
3. Héctor Velarde / Olga Pardo(Perú)135


From the beginning, Felipe Pomar presented himself as the toughest of all participating surfers. He would become one of three Peruvians to go on to the semifinals, along with Hector Velarde and Roberto Tode. Only 18 surfers qualified for the Semifinals: five Hawaiians, six Californians, three Australians, three Peruvians and one South African.136

The six heats of the semi-finals took place at Punta Rocas, in four meter surf, after fog caused the heats to be postponed for several hours. The French team was quickly washed up against the rocks. The Hawaiians – Richard Keaulana, Bobby Cloutier, George Downing, Paul Strauch – won four of the six heats contested, while the Californian Joey Cabell and Peruvian Hector Velarde earned theirs. 

The scores for the eighteen finalists of the first elimination were:

1. George Downing (Hawai‘i) – 229
2. Héctor Velarde (PERÚ) – 219
3. Richard Keaulana (Hawai‘i) – 219
4. Joey Cabell (USA) – 216
5. Paul Strauch (Hawai‘i) – 213
6. Nat Addler (USA) – 211
7. Mike Doyle (USA) – 207
8. Antony Vandeuheuve (SA) – 200
9. Bobby Cloutier (Hawai‘i) – 200
10. Robert August (USA) – 199
11. Fred Hemmings (Hawai‘i) – 199
12. Felipe Pomar (PERÚ) – 198
13. Mickey Muñoz (USA) – 196
14. Nat Young (AUS) – 194
15. Midget Farrelly (AUS) – 191
16. Richard Chew (USA) – 187
17. Roberto Tode (PERÚ) – 163
18. Danny Leneham (USA) – 152137

A number of surfers “lost” their boards in the surf. The loose boards were kept from breaking on the rocks by a number of helpers on the beach, deployed by Club Waikiki for just that purpose.

The second day of the semi-finals, surf had risen another meter. Eighteen surfers were divided into two heats lasting 75 minutes, with the best of five waves contributing to each surfer’s score. Of the nine members of each group, only four would be allowed to advance to the finals. And of the Peruvians, Felipe Pomar was the only one who managed to accumulate the points necessary to remain competitive.138 The results of the semifinals, looking only to the classifieds, were:


SEMIFINALS RESULTS – First Series

1. Paul Strauch (Hawai‘i) – 355
2. Nat Young (AUS) – 353
3. Felipe Pomar (PERÚ) – 331
4. Mike Doyle (USA) – 317


SEMIFINAL – Second Series

1. Fred Hemmings (Hawai‘i) – 317
2. Nat Adler (USA) – 312
3. George Downing (Hawai‘i) – 309
4. Mickey Muñoz (USA) – 308139


“All the best surfers in the world were in Peru for the event,” wrote Hawaiian Fred Hemmings. “The contest was staged at a newly discovered peak on a point named Punta Rocas.”140 Hemmings recalled asking his Peruvian hosts about this spot the year before, but they had dismissed it as being too close to the rocks.141 Within a year, they had had a change of mind and most all the Peruvian championships were held here long afterward.

“The contest was held at a place called Punta Rocas,” Mike Doyle also remembers, “about thirty miles south of Lima, on a desolate point. There were some sharp barnacles that grew on the rocks there; the Peruvians called them chorros, and they could punch holes in your feet if you weren’t careful, so some of the surfers wore tennis shoes. There was heavy fog on the morning of the contest, but the waves were ten to twelve feet and well shaped. The waves at Puntas Rocas reminded me a lot of Swami’s, back in Encinitas, so I felt comfortable riding them.”142

“The day of the finals,” Fred Hemmings recalled, “the surf was moderate in size, but rough. The waves were thick and broke in a bowl about a quarter of a mile off the point. The ocean was chilly, and we frequently had to dodge large jellyfish floating in the surf. The right lined up for a long ride and closed out in a relentless shore break. The lefts peeled off the point into the bay. Buffalo rode a beautiful wave all the way into the bay and almost out of the view of the judges.”143

“For the men’s big-wave event,” Mike Doyle wrote, “the best surfers in the world were there: George Downing, Mickey Munoz, Paul Strauch, Buffalo Keaulana, Fred Hemmings, and Joey Cabell, just to name a few. In my first heat, George Downing dropped in ahead of me, and I had to bail out to avoid hitting him. The wave plucked my board away and carried it all the way to the rocky shore, about a mile away. I was able to bodysurf all the way to shore, grab my board and paddle back out. I placed second in that heat and eventually went on to the finals.”144

Hemmings kept a journal during those days. His entry for February 20, 1965 gives a further insight into that particular day:

“We awoke at 5:30 and caught taxis to Punta Rocas. No one was there till about 7:30, at about 9:00 they started the two semi final heats. Paul won the first heat with Mike Doyle, Nat Young and Felipe Pomar qualifying. I won the second heat with George Downing, Ken Adler, and Mickey Munoz qualifying. We came in and rested for about a hour before they started the finals. The point was hot and crowded. I hadn’t eaten a thing.

“After the television people were finished, the eight finalists were sent out. I rode Joey Cabell‘s board at first because Paul was using my board, the one I used in the semis. I didn’t want to use the gun because the waves were only about 10 feet. Maneuverability was going to play a prime factor in the contest. Joey’s board was too light and after a few futile attempts to ride it I came back to the beach to change it for the gun. I spent the next 10 minutes trying to paddle out through the shore break. That almost broke me. In the water Felipe Pomar looked real good. Nat Young was getting hot small inside waves and Paul was performing on everything he caught. After a half hour a helicopter with a photographer onboard hovered over us and by the riders while on the waves. The 1 ½ hours went by fast and the horn sounded. We came to the beach and eagerly waited for the results. It was fairly evident that Felipe was going to be victorious. This made me happy. If a Hawaiian couldn’t win, Felipe would surely be our choice.”145

“A handsome young Peruvian, Felipe Pomar, won the event,” Mike Doyle noted. “… Some people thought favoritism in world surfing had stretched all the way to South America. Personally, I thought Pomar outshined us all on his home waves and deserved to win.”146

“Mickey Munoz took off on the biggest wave,” Fred Hemmings maintained in his journal. “Really critical. The contest was well produced. So ended the world contest 1965.”147

“In the summer of 1965,” recalled Felipe Pomar, the surf at “Punta Rocas [was] relatively new. A few weeks before the World, there was a competition at Kon Tiki to choose who would represent Peru in the World Cup. I was lucky to get first place and I remember that Peter Troy, who had asked to participate, took second. The day of the World championship began with a great sea and very foggy. It was impossible to see the waves, but we could hear the constant roar. When the fog lifted, we were all impressed with the large size of the waves. The great sea favored the big wave surfers, and I was among them, having already surfed for two years in Hawaii.

“I remember being the only Peruvian in the Finals, and I remember telling myself: ‘To get to the finals is all well and good, but now you need bigger waves and risk everything. No one has trained more, no one has sacrificed more, and nobody deserves it more than you.’

“I also remember that I almost lost my chance when my board got loose from me on a closeout run to the left. Leaving the sea after the end, many people came down the hill and yelled to me: ‘¡You won, you won!’ I did not believe it until they announced the results and people carried me away on their shoulders. It was a very special and exciting moment for me.”148

Surf writer Matt Warshaw wrote that Pomar and other competitors rode “in thick, gray, shifty waves. Pomar rode in his usual fashion – squat, utilitarian, and nearly mistake-free – and defeated a strong finals field that included Midget Farrelly, Nat Young, and Fred Hemmings, all of whom earned world titles in the ‘60s. His win at Punta Rocas, while not undeserved, was a surprise, and down-played somewhat by the surfing elite. ‘Felipe did a better job at riding the wave the way the judges wanted,’ Farrelly said, in a plainly backhanded compliment. The surf press meanwhile described Pomar’s riding as ‘unstylish,’ but liked the Latin angle. ‘On the beach,’ Surfer magazine wrote, ‘Pomar is a quiet and soft-mannered Peruvian aristocrat. But in the water, he’s a fierce go-for-broke comepetitor who faces the big surf like a matador working a giant bull.’”149

“Indeed, it was a great adventure for several reasons,” Felipe Pomar recalled. Due to the size of the sea during the competition, by the fact it was the first official world championship in history, for the category and number of competitors, by the quality of the organization, the merit of Mr. Eduardo Arena… and especially for the result, which was a pleasant surprise for everyone, especially for me. I feel very lucky and happy to have reached the top in the sport that I love.”150

“Surfing has been the biggest influence in my life,” appreciated Pomar. “I think I was lucky to have found a sport that excites me and makes me happy. It was because of surfing that I went to Hawaii. It is for surfing that I live in Hawaii. It is because of surfing that I lead a very healthy life. This allows me to have good health and keep riding waves, each day is full of new adventures at sea.”151

Felipe gave appreciations to those who had taught him various aspects of surfing and attributed his world championship win specifically to a good bottom turn. “I learned the bottom turn from a great Hawaiian surfer and friend, Kealoha Kaio, and that helped me win the World Championship.”

As to board, “I won the World Championship with a Greg Noll of 10 feet 4 inches, ‘Semi Gun.’”
The end result of 1965’s World Championship was as follows:


FINAL RESULT

1. Felipe Pomar (Perú) – 62 / 71 / 64 / 72 / 74: 343
2. Nat Young (AUS) – 61 / 77 / 63 / 71 / 70: 342
3. Paul Strauch (Hawai‘i) – 61 / 74 / 63 / 71 / 70: 341
4. Mickey Muñoz (USA) – 61 / 70 / 59 / 70 / 67: 327
5. Fred Hemmigs (Hawai‘i) – 54 / 69 / 65 65 / 71: 324
6. Mike Doyle (USA) – 58 / 71 / 59 / 66 / 70: 324
7. George Downing (Hawai‘i) – 54 / 66 / 52 / 63 / 65: 314
8. Ken Adler (AUS) – 59 / 66 / 52 / 63 / 65: 305152


The success of the First World Surfing Championship surpassed all expectations, with the participation of the best competitive surfers on the planet. At the end of the competition, which was evaluated by the judges, Felipe Pomar was hailed as the first World Surfing Champion, a ruling that was endorsed by four of the five judges involved.153

The film of the championship, produced by NBC, was broadcast live in the United States and the American public reaction was such that NBC re-broadcast from coast to coast, an unprecedented event in the history of American television.154


Peruvian Partying


As fun and exciting as the championship events were by themselves, many surfers considered the ancillary, unscheduled events to be even more memorable. The Peruvians had long had a reputation as the elite of the surfing world when it came to partying. In 1965, they solidified their reputation as most visiting surfers partied with them almost in awe.

“The Peruvians,” summed up Matt Warshaw, “became famous throughout surfdom for throwing the best surf parties, with local surfers… insisting that their visitors fight bulls, race cars, drink endless rounds of pisco sours, and visit high-end brothels.”155

California surfer Mike Doyle provided more detail: “The Peruvians had a beautiful clubhouse they called the Club Waikiki, at Miraflores Beach, just outside Lima. It was more like a polo club than any surf club I’d ever seen. It had two swimming pools, a restaurant, bar, squash court, locker rooms, lots of pretty girls lying around, masseuses, and white-jacketed waiters running all over the place. 

"Everyone who surfed in Peru at that time was wealthy. There weren’t any peasant surfers – no surf rats, no beach bums. Surfing was a gentleman’s sport in Peru, and almost all the surfers were very, very rich. They would work for a while in the morning, tending to their business affairs, then come down to the club for the rest of the day. They would surf for a couple of hours at the little beach break in front of the club, shower, then have lunch and cocktails on the terrace.”156

“At the Club Waikiki,” Doyle continued, “guests weren’t allowed to carry their own surfboards down to the water – the servants did it for you. One of the Australian surfers, Nat Young, didn’t like that. When they tried to take his board from him, he snatched it back and said, ‘Goddamnit, leave me alone! I’ll carry my own board!’ Which is how most of us felt, too. But Nat only insulted the servant, and probably our hosts as well, and in the end the Indian carried his board anyway.”

“The servants waxed your board for you, too,” Doyle went on. “If you lost your board, they would run over and shag it for you before it hit the rocks. You could surf right up to the beach, step off and walk away – the servants would run out, grab your board, and carry it up to your locker. If you happened to ding your board, at night a little Indian came out of a hole in back of the club and patched it for you. The whole scene seemed unnatural, and it made me uncomfortable. But the Peruvians were such great hosts, and they took the whole thing so seriously, we had no choice but to go along with it.”157

“Most of the young Peruvian surfers were bored rich kids, like spoiled princes,” Doyle stereotyped. “They loved playing the role of Latin lovers, and they were outrageous partiers. But the older guys who sponsored the contest were active surfers, too. They’d paddle out, catch a wave and stand up, just to show they still had the old animal prowess. They’d come in, have cocktails and lunch, and play a few rounds of palenta, which is a paddle-and-net game, kind of like badminton.

“We stayed in a hotel in town, and a bus would pick us up and take us to the club every day, or to one of the many social events the Peruvians had planned for us.”

“One afternoon they got us all drunk at the club,” Doyle continued, “then took us to a bullring. They gave us all capes and said, ‘Here, it’s time to fight the bulls.’ I didn’t want to fight any bulls. Most of us didn’t. We tried to get out of it, tried to politely decline, but the Peruvians wouldn’t have it. It was a big macho deal to fight a bull, and everyone had to do it. The bulls had their horns trimmed so we wouldn’t get gored, but it was still dangerous. Several guys got flipped around, and we could have been badly hurt. I really hated that, but I did it.”

“On another occasion,” Mike Doyle went on, “the president of Peru at that time, Fernando Belaunde Terry, invited the whole Long Beach Surf Club to a banquet at the presidential palace. We all filed by in our blue blazers and shook his hand. We were honored – imagine, a president who wanted to meet surfers! We drank huge pitchers of pisco sours, which are like the national drink, and had a great time.”

“One of the contest sponsors was Pancho Wiese, the president of a big bank chain in Peru,” Mike wrote. “He surfed and had even won a few local contests back in his prime. Another contest sponsor and organizer was Carlos Dogny, in his eighties at the time, who had been one of the first surfers in Peru and had helped start the Club Waikiki. The skin on his face was taught and almost translucent, as if he’d had several face lifts. He was still in great shape, though, and he always had two or three young girls on his arms. Dogny never seemed to work, but he had a huge house, and he invited us all to come over there for a big party. I remember he had a big bowl of photographs sitting on a table where everybody could look at them. They were all pictures of Dogny in swim trunks flexing his muscles, Dogny lifting weights, Dogny on the beach with young girls on his arm. I remember thinking some of them were pretty wild photos to be leaving around for the guests to see. But that’s the way he was, eager to project an image of great sexual vitality.”158

“I was on a strict training regimen at the time,” Mike recalled of his own lifestyle. “I was a vegetarian and trying to stay away from any hard booze. I figured if I’d traveled all that way to compete in a surf contest, I owed it to myself and to my sponsors to try my best. My roommate at the hotel was Reno Abellira, a great Hawaiian surfer who was teaching me some yoga postures. Reno and I would get up early in the morning and do some yoga, then go practice surfing on the Peruvian waves, trying to get ready for the contest.

“But the Peruvians didn’t want us to train. They wanted us to drink and party with them. Before lunch every day, they’d all start drinking. One guy would stand up at the club, wave his drink at the rest of us, and say, ‘Salud!’ Then he would insist that we all lift a glass with him. As soon as he sat down, another Peruvian would stand up and say, ‘Otra salud!’ And we’d all have to drink another one.”159

“In Miraflores on the coast of Lima,” Fred Hemmings recalled of his accommodations, “my roommates in the hotel cabana were Buffalo and Paul Strauch."

After the finals, “We returned to the Club Waikiki for dinner,” Hemmings wrote. “I had 2 steaks and six beers, got dressed and went to the hotel. The rest of the guys went to a television show. I stayed at the Leuro Bar with John Severson and Chuck Linen. We went to Rincon Café at 8:00 for another steak dinner… Then we came back to the hotel. I phoned Hawaii at about 9:30. We all went to Sunset Bar, the owner let us drink free. Buff turned on and got a guitar and cruised around the bar. I left early because I got tired of sitting on my ass. Came home at 1:00.” About the excessive food and drink, Hemmings added in The Soul of Surfing is Hawaiian, “Buffalo made me do it… what a trip.”160

Mike Doyle’s post-contest escapades are somewhat different:

“After the contest was over, the Peruvians want to party even harder. They took us all to dinner at a Chinese restaurant in Lima, where everybody got drunk. Little by little things started to get out of control, until everybody was throwing food around the place and smashing their plates on the floor. George Downing, who had been coming to the Peruvian Invitational since 1955 and was sort of the Hawaiian ringleader, started breaking chairs and smashing them over the tables. I suppose he figured that was what the Peruvians expected us to do, so he did his best to make them happy. The Americans started throwing food at the Hawaiians, and the Hawaiians fought back by throwing plates at us. The crazier it got, the more the Peruvians loved it.

“What really confused me was that the Chinese who owned the restaurant didn’t seem to mind the demolition. They weren’t thrilled about it the way our hosts were, but they accepted it in good humor. Later, when we all finally staggered out of the place, the Peruvians handed the restaurant owners a big stack of cash.”161

“One of the Peruvians involved in the contest,” wrote Doyle, “was Pitti Block (he pronounced it ‘Peetie Block’), a wealthy race-car driver who had competed on the international Grand Prix circuit. He was a bit heavy, dressed well, and always had a wild look in his eye. He made his living from a very successful body shop in Lima. All the Peruvians who were in the surf club drove the fastest American cars – Corvettes, GTOs, Trans Ams – and they all drove like madmen, which meant their cars were always in Pitti Block’s body shop getting fixed.

“The night after the dinner at the Chinese restaurant, Pitty asked me and a couple others to take a drive with him. He had a Jaguar XKE, and we all crammed into it. Right from the hotel, he started driving about eighty miles an hour through the narrow side streets of Lima, I suppose to demonstrate his skill as a race-car driver. An Indian peasant pushing a little cart full of oranges couldn’t get out of his way, and Pitti splattered that cart like a cartoon. I was scrunched down in the back of the Jaguar, thinking we were going to get thrown into jail. But Pitti just screeched to halt and told us, ‘No problem.’ He got out, walked over to the little Indian, who was terrified, pulled out a roll of cash, and handed him a few bills. The Indian nodded agreeably, but then pointed to the wrecked cart. So Pitti handed him a few more bills for the cart. Now the Indian was elated! He couldn’t believe his good fortune. Not only had he sold all his oranges, but he would get a new cart, as well. Getting run over by Pitti Block was probably the luckiest thing to happen to him in years.

“Pitti laughed, gave us a nod that everything was alright, hopped back into the Jag, revved the engine a few times, and we were off again at eighty miles an hour.”162

“Before long we were way out in the country,” continued Doyle in his recollections of adventures with Pitti Block. “I heard Pitti say something about a whorehouse, but I already knew there were several whorehouses right around the corner from our hotel back in Lima, so I couldn’t understand what we were doing out here in the country.

“We finally pulled up to an old, colonial-style mansion surrounded by rows and rows of new American cars. Pitti explained that this was an ‘official whorehouse.’ As near as I could tell, that meant the place had been set up by the ruling class, for the ruling class. That way there would be no blackmail, no bad rumors leaking out, no embarrassment to the men or their families. They controlled everything.

“Inside, it was like a huge barroom. All the Peruvians from the Club Waikiki were there – they’d just moved the whole party out to their whorehouse in the country.

“Most of the Hawaiians were there ahead of us and already in great form. They knew the routine, and they were primed for it.”

“I was amazed to see that every girl in the place was absolutely gorgeous,” Doyle continued. “There were mulatto girls, Asian girls, Peruvian girls, American girls. They were all exotically beautiful.

“Pitti pointed toward the girls, then asked me, ‘Which one do you want?’

“I felt a little uneasy. I was twenty-three at the time and not exactly naïve when it came to sex, but I’d never seen anything like this before.

“‘Don’t worry about the cost,’ Pitti said. ‘I’ll take care of it.’

“I pointed to a Japanese girl and said, ‘She’s nice.’

“Pitti smiled and rubbed his hands together. ‘Okay, come on.’

“He led me over to the girl, nodded, and she immediately took me to a back room. We had a couple of drinks and talked for a while. She waited until I was relaxed and comfortable before she initiated the sex. She was a real professional.

“When I rejoined the others, Pitti asked me, ‘Did you enjoy yourself?’ When I nodded, Pitti pointed toward the girls again and said, ‘Do you see another one you like?’

“I must have looked shocked,” Doyle went on, “because Pitti laughed out loud. I’d been thinking this was a one-course meal – I didn’t know it was a smorgasbord. But looking around, I began to notice that some of the older Peruvians disappeared with a different girl every few minutes. And when Pitti went into the back rooms, he took two girls at a time.”

It was Doyle’s eventual opinion – I think, somewhat inaccurately – that Los Waikikianos were more into partying than surfing and that the international competitions were just opportunities for them to morph their socializing into something bigger. “Sometime that night, I came to the realization that the Peruvians couldn’t have cared less about the Peruvian International Surfing Contest. They just loved watching the rest of us go berserk in their country. They had already indulged themselves with every kind of pleasure imaginable, and the only new pleasure for them was watching us indulge ourselves. Officially they were our hosts, but actually we were there to entertain them.”163

Mike Doyle was not the only one captivated by the women Peru had to offer. During “the 1965 World Surfing Championships,” wrote Fred Hemmings, “Paul [Strauch] enthralled all the Peruvians with his suave style and gentlemanly manner. In fact, he really captivated one lovely Peruvian lady to the extent that she ended up in front of our hotel with her luggage on the day we were to return to Hawai‘i. Must have been some miscommunication.”164

Hemmings told of another little Peruvian romantic involvement that took place the following year, in 1966. “This happened in Peru. I am not going to name the famous Hawaiian surfer involved,” he wrote, but it is likely he was referring to Richard “Buffalo” Keaulana.

“We were partying one day after a full day of surfing. Peruvian friends had country homes at Punta Hermosa, a town in the bay where the World contest was held the year before. One of my surfing pals, a big wave rider from Hawai‘i, was making music and partying it up. A lovely young Peruvian lady was all over him and he was falling victim to her advances. She definitely was the aggressor. There was a very awkward communication problem, frustrating the blossoming relationship. The Hawaiian surfer could not speak Spanish and the lovely Peruvian lady could not speak a word of English. My Hawaiian friend became very frustrated. Realizing I spoke a little Spanish, he pleaded with me, ‘Freddie, tell this wahine I like give her the gas.’ It was obvious that he did not want to fill her auto with fuel. What he really wanted I could not muster the words for in Spanish.”165


World Championships Afterwards


With the success of the first World Championship at Punta Rocas in 1965, the impetus was on to repeat the experience. California was the venue chosen, but when Ocean Beach, near San Diego, was eventually decided upon and the championship got underway, Peruvian surfers did not fare well. Ocean Beach was hardly conducive to the Peruvians, who in those days were characterized as big wave specialists. Besides the lack of size, the Peruvians were used to point surfing – like Punta Rocas, Cerro Azul, Kon Tiki and Waikiki –and Ocean Beach was strictly a beach break. On top of this, the Peruvians’ boards were too big to ride the waves at Ocean Beach. Gordo Barreda’s board, for example, was a 9’ 5”. The only Peruvian to do well was Carlos Barreda.166

Again, NBC covered the event from start to finish and although it was not even close to the excitement of the previous year’s championship in Peru, it was broadcast from coast to coast across America.

The trophy won by Felipe Pomar in 1965 was won by Nat Young in 1966, in a championship that underscored the importance of dynamic turns on a shorter board. Nat held the trophy for two years, as efforts to organize a world championship were deemed too demanding, and it was decided that it would be better to run it every two years instead of annually.

In 1968, the International Federation selected Puerto Rico for the Third World Surfing Championship. Eight Peruvians had the privilege to represent their country and more than a hundred surfers represented countries across the world. The tremendous success of NBC in the transmission of the two previous championships, made their main rival, ABC, out-bid NBC for sponsorship ($8,000). Unfortunately, Puerto Rico went flat the first week of the championship and surfers were forced to become tourists more than competitors.167

Organizers spent a small fortune to stay in Puerto Rico until the arrival of rideable surf, which arrived on the second week. With the budget nearly depleted, a swell hit the Puerto Rican coast just in time. The lush vegetation of Rincon beach, crystal clear water and great waves made for the most successful surf documentaries ever filmed by ABC. The special was broadcast from coast to coast in North America, and continually requested for replay. In total, it was aired five times – unusual coverage for any sport – and although the Peruvians did not fare too well, the impeccable organization of Eduardo Arena served to make him re-elected as president. The overall tournament winner was Fred Hemmings, who took the cup to Hawai‘i, where it remained until 1970, when the championship moved to Australia.

As for the Peru International, The Peruvian Surfing Federation replaced Club Waikiki as its overseer in 1973. The resultant drop in both prestige and attendance caused the event to be canceld in 1975.
Over the years of the Peru International, the big wave winners were:

1956: Eduardo Arena
1957: Conrad Cunha
1961: John Severson
1962: Felipe Pomar
1963: Paul Strauch
1964: Fred Hemmings
1965: Felipe Pomar
1966: Felipe Pomar
1967: Corky Carroll
1968: Joey Cabell
1969: Mike Doyle
1970: Joey Cabell
1971: Sergio Barreda
1972: (unknown)
1973: Sergio Barreda
1974: Jeff Hakman168


Peruvian Surfing Evolves


Much has changed in the surfing reality of Peru since those glorious days of international competition in the mid-1960s.

“I can tell you that there are very few [Peruvian] surfers that can afford to be members of the Waikiki Club,” Peruvian “Oscar M. Brain” wrote me in 1999, “and fewer that would even want to be members. Surfers in Peru [now] come from every class, ethnicity and gender. You can see that just two hundred yards down the beach from the Waikiki Club in the break La Pampilla… [and] elsewhere [along]… the coast of Peru.”169

Oscar went on to tell me a story about one of Peru’s unnamed surfing watermen:

“Last year I was in Punta Hermosa, just south of Lima. Since I was on a budget, I rented a room from a local family in the town. It turned out that the old man living next to me (the grandfather in the family that rented me the room) had surfed Punta Hermosa since the early fourties. All his male children and grandchildren also surf. In fact, his son Paco was second [in] last year’s big wave contest in Pico Alto, a wave as big as any. This man was a fisherman, and he got involved in surfing as many of the wealthier surfers from Lima would leave their heavy surfboards with him. He would surf with them in Kontiki, an almost big wave spot just north of Punta Rocas (where the World Titles were held in 1965). This man was an all-around waterman. He would swim through heavy surf to an island to fish. He would also swim across the Huallaga River in the Peruvian Amazon (a very wide river, like most major tributaries to the Amazon River). He is not even well-known, but the detail of his stories showed me that he was intimately connected with the surfing of the Forties and Fifties. Looking at him, at his age, he is still very healthy. He stands tall and proud… Even before modern surfing, native Peruvians have been riding waves (sitting and standing up) for more than a thousand years in reed boards that had a rocker, and a wide point just behind the middle of the board, much like modern surfboards…”170

Modern Peruvian surfing began, developed and thrived in the area Peruvians call “Costa Verde” and branched out from Miraflores to Kon Tiki, Punta Rocas, Pico Alto, Cerro Azul in the south, and Chicama, Pacasmayo, Cabo Blanco, Panic Point, and Lobitos. The 3,080 kilometers of Peruvian coast, from north to south, receives powerful swells all year long, although they are more frequent in the winter. Nowadays, there are surfers riding waves all along this coast. Some of the best waves can be found in the northern villages of Lima where there are still many uncrowded and quality beaches. In the south of Peru, the waves are heavier, the weather is colder, and there are are still breaks yet to be surfed.171

Although Peru’s indigenous board shaping industry was slow in developing, it is now thriving. This is in part due to the country’s coastline that is conducive to many different types of waves; big, small, tubular, shore breaks, long and powerful waves. All of them require different kinds of boards. The boards shaped to meet these conditions by Peruvian shapers are now highly regarded, not only in Peru but also in foreign countries, especially in Latin-American countries. The first surfers to become professional surfboard shapers were “Gordo” Barreda, Wayo Whilar (who has built surfboards since 1966), among others. Today, respected Peruvian shapers include: Rodolfo Klima (Klimax surfboards), Alfredo Tello (Swells surfboards), Ricky Peschiera (OX surfboards), and Milton and Wayo Whilar. In addition, Ricardo Buroncle, owner of Boz wetsuits, meets the need for suits and gear to thwart the cold winter water.

A major advancement for Peruvian surfing was the establishment of surfing schools in the early 1990s. Olas Peru was one of the first, beginning in 1992 in Punta Hermosa, with five kids. One of those kids was Sofia Mulanovich, who went on to become a world champion. Roberto “Muelas” Meza founded the school, starting his lessons in Punta Hermosa. The school has since become a nest for many Peruvian surfers of the new generation. Luis Miguel de la Rosa, also known as “Magoo”, is the former seven time national champion and has been another important icon in Peruvian surf schools. Also, former champions like Carlos “Chalo” Espejo and Rocio Larrañaga are teaching and sharing their experiences and knowledge to the younger generations.172

“By 2003,” wrote Matt Warshaw in the Encyclopedia of Surfing,“Peru was home to 10 surf shops and about 10,000 surfers, with the 1985-founded Tablista serving as the country’s only surfing publication.” Matt maintains that Peru’s social class linkage with surfing has not disappeared. 

“Surfing here remains a sport for the wealthy, and while poor surfers aren’t discouraged from riding, expensive equipment keeps most out of the water. Kon-Tiki: Surfboard Museum, a history of Peruvian surfing by native surf historian Jose Schaffino, was published in 2001; the Peruvian surf is detailed in The World Stormrider Guide (2001). Peru has been featured in more than two dozen surf movies and videos over the decades, including The Young Wave Hunters (1964), A Sea For Yourself (1973), We Got Surf (1981), Atlantic Crossing (1989), Jacked (1995) and Lunar Road (2002).”173

Juan Forero gave a glimpse into Peruvian surfing as it was in 2004, writing for the New York Times:

“LIMA, Peru, Feb. 28 -- Hawaii may have the north coast of Oahu. California may have Malibu. But Peru has Punta Hermosa, south of Lima, the longest waves in the world at Chicama and, for 62 years, the fabled Waikiki Club.

“‘The waves are constant,’ said Rocío Larrañaga, who teaches surfing at the Waikiki. “In other countries, the waves come in seasons. Here, it’s all the time, left and right. Some are six, seven meters high, some of the largest in the world.’

“The Waikiki is a club like no other – a white-glove establishment whose members come from some of Peru’s most prominent and powerful families yet close enough to the gritty downtown of this coastal capital that gentlemen surfers, like Francisco Aramburu, a successful Peruvian entrepreneur, hit the beach on their lunch breaks.

“‘This is the Latin American lunch break – three hours,’ Mr. Aramburu, 58, a surfer since age 13, said with a laugh. ‘I try to surf every day, every day that is worthwhile in terms of waves, that is.’

“After soccer, of course, surfing could almost be considered the national sport. Peru has a 1,400-mile Pacific coastline featuring more than 70 well-known surf spots, some with roaring swells that regularly reach 23 feet. It has magazines like Extreme and Tablista (the word is Spanish for surfer) and even a television program on surfing called ‘Free Ride.’

“Long the pastime of the rich, the sport has steadily spread in popularity to the greater middle class, with an estimated 30,000 enthusiasts clambering atop boards. Rodolfo Klima, who makes custom boards with his company, Klimax, says he is producing five times as many boards as he did just five years ago.

“Hard-core surfers the world over know all about Felipe Pomar, a Peruvian and the first international champion surfer from the 1960s. Today, the sport’s glamour girl is Sofía Mulanovich, who is among the top women in world surfing and whose grandfather and father were members of the Waikiki.

“Some families have been surfing for three generations.

“‘People here have been doing it all their lives,’ said Leslie Pierce, 55, chief executive officer of Alicorp, one of Peru’s biggest companies and a regular surfer in Punta Hermosa. ‘With my sons, we go surfing whenever we can. Our family has always been around surfing.’

“Even with the sport’s spreading popularity, the heart of Peruvian surfing remains the exclusive Waikiki Club, whose founders were Peru’s first surfers.

“‘The club is the soul of the sport for surfers,’ said Eduardo Arena, 75, a longtime Waikiki member who was the first president of the first international governing body for the sport, the International Surfing Federation. ‘We are not the only place with surfing now, but the center of surfing, the origin is still here. We still have the history.’

“The man who introduced the sport to Peru, Carlos Dogny, was a playboy jet-setter who prided himself on never having to endure Lima’s foggy, cold winters, which run from June through September in the Southern Hemisphere, when he would leave for sunnier climes.

“In trips to Hawaii in the late 1930’s and early 1940’s, Mr. Dogny saw young men riding the waves on heavy longboards. He sampled, was hooked and soon brought the sport back to Peru.

“Mr. Dogny and his friends built their own boards, 15-foot, 100-pound monsters that required two or three porters to carry into the water. The first three still stand at the Waikiki Club, which Mr. Dogny and eight others founded in 1942 below the bluffs of the Lima district of Miraflores.

“At first, Waikiki was little more than a storehouse for boards. Now, the club has 600 members, with families paying $10,000 to join. It has squash courts and clay tennis courts, three swimming pools, a state-of-the-art gym, and restaurants serving succulent Peruvian fare like ceviche.

“‘The majority of people who built this club are from Lima society, families with much money,’ said Hugo Valdivia, the club’s administrator. ‘You have to be recommended to belong. Someone who wants to just join and knows no one cannot join. This is a very exclusive club.’

“Though there are plenty of Waikiki members who have never surfed, it is not easy to forget why the club exists.

“In the thatched-roof dining room, 21 old boards, many of them ridden by some of the club’s most storied surfers, hang from the ceiling.

“In the storehouse works Víctor Curo, 63, who has been waxing and caring for boards at the club since 1960. Nearly 400 boards are neatly stacked in storage, some belonging to legendary club members.

“‘We keep it right here,’ Mr. Curo said, pointing to the 11-foot board that belonged to the late Piero Solari, a famous singer who was a club member and avid surfer. ‘We try to someday put it in a museum.’

“The newest generation of gentlemen surfers are men like Alberto Figari, who runs his own marketing company but never seems too busy to set aside a couple of hours a day at the Waikiki.

“He admits that he is rarely not thinking about the waves. Indeed, when he opened his own company, he said he looked for offices close enough to the Waikiki so he could make it here in 10 minutes on his lunch break. ‘Some people do business lunch, I prefer to come out here and run the waves,’ he said.

“Mr. Aramburu knows the tug of his passion all too well. He says he feels most alive on a surfboard, gliding atop a wave. Worries are washed away by the waves. Calmness descends.

“‘It is a combination of individualism, passion, sport, all mixed together,’ he said. ‘You are not just on a wave, you are a part of a wave. You are a part of its energy. It is what we call soul surfing.’”174


ENDIT


1 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 455.
2 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 455.
3 Finney, Ben R. and Houston, James D. Surfing, The Sport of Hawaiian Kings, © 1966, C.E. Tuttle Company, Rutland, Vermont. This work is based on Finney’s 1959 M.A. thesis at the University of Hawai‘i. He was assisted in the writing of the book by Houston, pp. 24-34. At the time, the estimate was 1500 B.C. to 400 A.D. See also Finney, Ben and Houston, James D. Surfing: A History of the Ancient Hawaiian Sport, ©1996. Published by Pomegranate Artbooks, Rohnert Park, California, p. 21. Estimate adjusted for 2000 B.C. to before 400 A.D. See also Gault-Williams, LEGENDARY SURFERS: Volume 1, ©2005.
4 Finney, Ben Rudolph. Surfboarding in Oceania: Its Pre-European Distribution, ©1959. See also Lueras, p. 34.
5 Finney and Houston,1996, p. 22. See map of the Polynesian Triangle, same page. See also Gault-Williams, LEGENDARY SURFERS: Volume 1,©2005.
7 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 470.
8 Felipe Pomar voicemail responses to interview questions, November 2009.
13 Suggs, Robert C. The Island Civilizations of Polynesia, New York: New American Library, p.212-224.
14 Friedlaender, J.S. et al. “The Genetic Structure of Pacific Islanders,” PLoS Genetics, ©2008, 4(1):173-190.
15 Kirch, P. On the Roads to the Wind: An archaeological history of the Pacific Islands before European contact, Berkeley: University of California Press, ©2000. See also Barnes, S.S. et al. “Ancient DNA of the Pacific rat (Rattus exulans) from Rapa Nui (Easter Island),” Journal of Archaeological Science, 33:1536-1540.
16 Email from Glenn Hening to Felipe Pomar, February 14, 2009.
17 Email from Felipe Pomar to Glenn Hening, February 14, 2009.
18 Email from Felipe Pomar to Glenn Hening, February 14, 2009.
19 Sanders, Marcus. “Lines in the Dust – The Groundswell Society Goes to Peru 2002,” published in Surfer’s Path, 2002. Thor Heyerdahl quoted.
20 Email from Felipe Pomar to Glenn Hening, February 14, 2009.
21 Felipe Pomar voicemail responses to interview questions, November 2009.
22 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008. Photos by Larry Gehrke, Arsen Brzostek. Viewed at http://www.olasperu.com/entrevistas_display.php?id=48 viewed November 2009.
23 Hening, Glenn. “Riding Waves Two Thousand Years Ago,” published by the Groudswell Society, April 14, 2004.
24 Hening, Glenn. “Riding Waves Two Thousand Years Ago,” published by the Groudswell Society, April 14, 2004.
25 Hening, Glenn. “Riding Waves Two Thousand Years Ago,” published by the Groudswell Society, April 14, 2004.
26 Hening, Glenn. “Riding Waves Two Thousand Years Ago,” published by the Groudswell Society, April 14, 2004.
27 Sanders, Marcus. “Lines in the Dust – The Groundswell Society Goes to Peru 2002,” published in Surfer’s Path, 2002.
28 Sanders, Marcus. “Lines in the Dust – The Groundswell Society Goes to Peru 2002,” published in Surfer’s Path, 2002.
29 Sanders, Marcus. “Lines in the Dust – The Groundswell Society Goes to Peru 2002,” published in Surfer’s Path, 2002.
30 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008. Photos by Larry Gehrke, Arsen Brzostek. Viewed at http://www.olasperu.com/entrevistas_display.php?id=48 viewed November 2009.
32 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 455.
33 Felipe Pomar voicemail responses to interview questions, November 2009.
34 Finney and Houston, ©1966, p. 99.
35 Felipe Pomar voicemail responses to interview questions, November 2009.
36 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 158.
37 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, pp. 158-159.
40 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 159.
41 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008. Viewed at http://www.olasperu.com/entrevistas_display.php?id=48 viewed November 2009. Felipe Pomar quoted.
42 Felipe Pomar voicemail responses to interview questions, November 2009. Felipe pronounced club “kloob.”
43 Felipe Pomar voicemail responses to interview questions, November 2009.
44 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 455.
45 Finney and Houston, ©1966, p. 99.
46 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 126.
47 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 126.
48 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009 at OlasPeru.com, from the unpublished book “Five Thousand Years Riding Waves” by Oscar Tramontana Figallo; archival photos from Carlos Rey y Lama, Surfer Magazine and John Severson, Don Carlos King and Lama. Viewed November 2009: http://www.olasperu.com/noticias/display_not.php?id=3009200
49 Felipe Pomar voicemail responses to interview questions, November 2009. Mark Nichols, according to Oscar Tramontana Figallo was also part of this “rugged raid,” summer 1953.
50 The Surf Report, Volume 13, Number 11, November 1992, p. 2.
51 Dover, Robert V. H.; Katharine E. Seibold, John Holmes McDowell. Andean Cosmologies Through Time: Persistence and Emergence, Indiana University Press, ©1992, p. 274. See also http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viracocha.
52 Young-Sánchez, Margaret. “Tiwanaku: Papers from the 2005 Mayer Center Symposium at the Denver Art Museum,” ©2009, Denver Art Museum. See also http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viracocha.
53 Encyclopedia Mythica, Viracocha. See also http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viracocha.
54 See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viracocha.
55 Kolata, Alan. Valley of the Spirits: a Journey into the Lost Realm of the Aymara, ©1996, pp. 65-72. See also http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viracocha.
56 Andrews, Tamra. Dictionary of Nature Myths, ©2000, Oxford University Press, p. 216. See also http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viracocha.
57 “Viracocha.” Bloomsbury Dictionary of Myth, ©1996, Bloomsbury Publishing Ltd., London. See also http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viracocha.
58 De Gamboa, Pedro Sarmiento. “Viracocha and the Coming of the Incas” from History of the Incas, translated by Clements Markham, 1907, Cambridge: The Hakluyt Society, pp. 28-58. See also http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viracocha.
59 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009.
60 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 357. There was an inaugural event in 1953 that was not successful and full of bad feelings between the Hawaiians and Californians, the only two groups attending.
61 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009.
62 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009 at OlasPeru.com, from the unpublished book “Five Thousand Years Riding Waves” by Oscar Tramontana Figallo; archival photos from Carlos Rey y Lama, Surfer Magazine and John Severson, Don Carlos King and Lama. Viewed in November 2009: http://www.olasperu.com/noticias/display_not.php?id=3009200
63 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009.
64 Felipe Pomar voicemail responses to interview questions, November 2009.
65 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009.
66 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009 at OlasPeru.com, from the unpublished book “Five Thousand Years Riding Waves” by Oscar Tramontana Figallo; archival photos from Carlos Rey y Lama, Surfer Magazine and John Severson, Don Carlos King and Lama. Viewed in November 2009: http://www.olasperu.com/noticias/display_not.php?id=3009200. See also Finney and Houston, ©1966, p. 100, although they have Downing competing in Peru at this time, which is incorrect.
67 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009.
68 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009 at OlasPeru.com, from the unpublished book “Five Thousand Years Riding Waves” by Oscar Tramontana Figallo; archival photos from Carlos Rey y Lama, Surfer Magazine and John Severson, Don Carlos King and Lama. Viewed in November 2009: http://www.olasperu.com/noticias/display_not.php?id=3009200. Oscar has the land acquisition occurring in June of 1954, but it must have been 1955.
69 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008. Photos by Larry Gehrke, Arsen Brzostek. Viewed at http://www.olasperu.com/entrevistas_display.php?id=48 viewed November 2009.
70 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009.
71 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009 at OlasPeru.com, from the unpublished book “Five Thousand Years Riding Waves” by Oscar Tramontana Figallo; archival photos from Carlos Rey y Lama, Surfer Magazine and John Severson, Don Carlos King and Lama. Viewed in November 2009: http://www.olasperu.com/noticias/display_not.php?id=3009200
72 Felipe Pomar voicemail responses to interview questions, November 2009.
73 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009.
74 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009.
77 Felipe Pomar voicemail responses to interview questions, November 2009.
78 Finney and Houston, ©1966, p. 100.
79 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 456.
80 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 456.
81 Felipe Pomar voicemail responses to interview questions, November 2009.
82 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 456.
83 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009.
84 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009.
85 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009 at OlasPeru.com, from the unpublished book “Five Thousand Years Riding Waves” by Oscar Tramontana Figallo; archival photos from Carlos Rey y Lama, Surfer Magazine and John Severson, Don Carlos King and Lama. Viewed in November 2009: http://www.olasperu.com/noticias/display_not.php?id=3009200
86 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009.
87 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 456.
88 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009.
89 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009 at OlasPeru.com, from the unpublished book “Five Thousand Years Riding Waves” by Oscar Tramontana Figallo; archival photos from Carlos Rey y Lama, Surfer Magazine and John Severson, Don Carlos King and Lama. Viewed in November 2009: http://www.olasperu.com/noticias/display_not.php?id=3009200
90 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 469.
91 Email from Susan Chaplin sfchap@surfbvi.com to Felipe Pomar fgpomar@yahoo.com, February 23, 2009.
92 Felipe Pomar voicemail responses to interview questions, November 2009.
93 Felipe Pomar voicemail responses to interview questions, November 2009.
94 Felipe Pomar voicemail responses to interview questions, November 2009. He made it all the way to the Peruvian National free style relay team.
95 Email from Felipe Pomar to Tim Sherer, March 30, 2009.
96 Email from Susan Chaplin sfchap@surfbvi.com to Felipe Pomar fgpomar@yahoo.com, February 23, 2009.
97 Felipe Pomar voicemail responses to interview questions, November 2009.
98 Felipe Pomar voicemail responses to interview questions, November 2009.
99 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008. Photos by Larry Gehrke, Arsen Brzostek. Viewed at http://www.olasperu.com/entrevistas_display.php?id=48 viewed November 2009.
100 Felipe Pomar voicemail responses to interview questions, November 2009.
101 Email from Susan Chaplin sfchap@surfbvi.com to Felipe Pomar fgpomar@yahoo.com, February 23, 2009.
102 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008. Photos by Larry Gehrke, Arsen Brzostek. Viewed at http://www.olasperu.com/entrevistas_display.php?id=48 viewed November 2009.
103 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008.
104 Email from Susan Chaplin sfchap@surfbvi.com to Felipe Pomar fgpomar@yahoo.com, February 23, 2009.
105 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008.
106 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008.
107 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009.
108 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009.
109 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Peruvian Surfing in the 1950s,” published September 30, 2009.
110 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 456.
111 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 456.
112 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 21.
113 Felipe Pomar voicemail responses to interview questions, November 2009.
114 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008. Photos by Larry Gehrke, Arsen Brzostek. Viewed at http://www.olasperu.com/entrevistas_display.php?id=48 viewed November 2009.
115 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 21.
116 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 21.
117 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 357.
118 Hemmings, Fred. The Soul of Surfing is Hawaiian, ©1997, p. 87.
119 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 456.
120 Hemmings, Fred. The Soul of Surfing is Hawaiian, ©1997, p. 81. See classic posed photo same page. Surfers in the line-up included Carlos Velarde, Fred Hemmings, Locho Mirio Quesada, Bobby Cloutier, Poncho Ambarru, Buffalo Keaulana, Miguel Plaza, Paul Strauch, George Downing and Hector Velarde. Fred spells “Dogney,” Finney and Houston have “Dogny” and Mike Doyle spells it “Dogni.”
121 Hemmings, Fred. The Soul of Surfing is Hawaiian, ©1997, p. 81. Some spelling corrections by me.
122 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008.
123 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008.
124 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008. Photos by Larry Gehrke, Arsen Brzostek. Viewed at http://www.olasperu.com/entrevistas_display.php?id=48 viewed November 2009.
125 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008.
126 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008.
127 Villaran, Augusto. “Peruvian Eduardo Arena recognized as Waterman of the Year,” August 31, 2008 @ http://www.olasperu.com/noticias/display_not.php?id=31082008-1 viewed December 2009.
128 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008.
129 The Surf Report, Volume 13, Number 11, November 1992, p. 2.
130 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008.
131 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008.
132 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008.
133 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008.
135 Doyle, Mike. Morning Glass, ©1993, p. 126. Doyle said they “won the tandem event using only a regular-sized surfboard – nobody had thought to bring along a tandem board.”
136 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008.
137 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008.
138 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008. Photos by Larry Gehrke, Arsen Brzostek. Viewed at http://www.olasperu.com/entrevistas_display.php?id=48 viewed November 2009.
139 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008.
140 Hemmings, Fred. The Soul of Surfing is Hawaiian, ©1997, p. 87.
141 Hemmings, Fred. Telephone conversation June 28, 1998.
142 Doyle, Mike. Morning Glass, ©1993, p. 126.
143 Hemmings, Fred. The Soul of Surfing is Hawaiian,©1997, pp. 87-88.
144 Doyle, Mike. Morning Glass, ©1993, p. 126.
145 Hemmings, Fred. The Soul of Surfing is Hawaiian, ©1997, pp. 88-89.
146 Doyle, Mike. Morning Glass, ©1993, p. 126.
147 Hemmings, Fred. The Soul of Surfing is Hawaiian, ©1997, p. 89.
148 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008. Felipe Pomar quoted.
149 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, pp. 469-470.
150 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008. Felipe Pomar quoted.
151 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008. Photos by Larry Gehrke, Arsen Brzostek. Viewed at http://www.olasperu.com/entrevistas_display.php?id=48 viewed November 2009.
152 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008. Photos by Larry Gehrke, Arsen Brzostek. Viewed at http://www.olasperu.com/entrevistas_display.php?id=48 viewed November 2009.
153 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008.
154 Figallo, Oscar Tramontana. “Felipe Pomar: The First World Surfing Champion of History,” February 2008. Photos by Larry Gehrke, Arsen Brzostek. Viewed at http://www.olasperu.com/entrevistas_display.php?id=48 viewed November 2009.
155 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 456.
156 Doyle, Mike. Morning Glass, ©1993, pp. 123-124.
157 Doyle, Mike. Morning Glass, ©1993, p. 124.
158 Doyle, Mike. Morning Glass, ©1993, p. 125. Doyle spells Carlos “Dogni,” where Hemmings spells “Dogney” and The correct spelling of Dogny has been inserted in place of “Dogni.”
159 Doyle, Mike. Morning Glass, ©1993, pp. 125-126.
160 Hemmings, Fred. The Soul of Surfing is Hawaiian, ©1997, p. 89. Chuck Linen spelled “Lennon.” Replaced with correct spelling, this quote. See photo opposite page (p. 88) of posed surfers including: Wayne Sheafer of California, Estelle and Joel DeRosnay of Biarritz, France, George Downing, Fred Hemmings, Buffalo Keaulana, Wally Froiseth and Paul Strauch, Hawai‘i. Chuck Linnen is, I think, the correct spelling.
161 Doyle, Mike. Morning Glass, ©1993, pp. 126-127.
162 Doyle, Mike. Morning Glass, ©1993, pp. 127-128. The correct spelling of Piti Block replaces Doyle’s “Pitty Blocque.”
163 Doyle, Mike. Morning Glass, ©1993, pp. 128-129.
164 Hemmings, Fred. The Soul of Surfing is Hawaiian, ©1997, p. 72.
165 Hemmings, Fred. The Soul of Surfing is Hawaiian, ©1997, p. 82.
166 Villaran, Augusto. “Peruvian Eduardo Arena recognized as Waterman of the Year,” August 31, 2008 @ http://www.olasperu.com/noticias/display_not.php?id=31082008-1 viewed December 2009.
167 Villaran, Augusto. “Peruvian Eduardo Arena recognized as Waterman of the Year,” August 31, 2008 @ http://www.olasperu.com/noticias/display_not.php?id=31082008-1 viewed December 2009.
168 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 457.
169 Oscar M. Brain email to Malcolm, May 1999.
170 Oscar M. Brain email to Malcolm, May 20, 1999.
173 Warshaw, Matt. Encyclopedia of Surfing, ©2003, p. 456.
174 Forero, Juan. “The Peruvians Surrender to Surfing, Body and Soul,” The New York Times, March 4, 2004; http://www.nytimes.com/2004/03/04/international/americas/04SURF.html



Oahu After WWII

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Welcome to this chapter in the LEGENDARY SURFERS series, part of Volume 4: The 1940s.


Even after World War II ended, wars and threats of war pervaded the post-war period. Civil wars raged in many areas, the Soviet Union was militarily forcing Eastern European countries to go communist, much of Asia was moving towards communism, and what came to be called “The Cold War” descended upon most of the world split between democratic and communist countries. The Cold War would go on for four decades.

The post World War II period included things like the U.S. testing of atomic bombs in one of the world’s most beautiful areas of the world: the South Pacific; the supersonic breaking of the sound barrier; flying saucers reported flying over the United States; the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls; Bell laboratories invention of the transistor; and by 1947, more than one million American war veterans enrolling in colleges under the U.S. “G.I. Bill of Rights.” Notable books published at this time included The Diary of Anne Frank (1947), Benjamin Spoc’’k’s Baby and Child Care (1946), Tennessee Williams’sA Streetcar Named Desire (1947), and Mickey Spillane’s I, the Jury (1947).1

“Zip-a-dee-doo-dah” was a popular song of the time2 and could also be said to represent the prevailing surfer attitude. Surfers certainly were not much concerned with things like the Cold War as much as they were riding waves and exercising their own kind of personal freedom. Possibly the only noteworthy international news that surfers could relate to was Thor Heyerdahls sailing of a raft, in 1947, from Peru to Polynesia in 101 days.3



3rd Wave of Coast Haoles, 1947-48


If we consider people like Tom Blake and Sam Reid being the “first wave” of U.S. Mainland surfers to come to Hawaii during the 1920s; and if we consider Preston “Pete” Peterson, Lorrin “Whitey” Harrison, Gene “Tarzan” Smith and their peers being in the “second wave” during the 1930s; then the “third wave” of Californians to surf Hawaiian waters was comprised of the likes of Joe Quigg, Tommy Zahn, Matt Kivlin, Melonhead [Porter Vaughn] and Dave Rochlen in the late 1940s.4

“It was the late 1940s,” remembered legendary Hawaiian surfer Rabbit Kekai. “That’s when the first migration of what you call the haoles came. That was Joe Quigg, Tommy Zahn, Matt Kivlin, a guy they called Melonhead and Dave Rochlen. They were the first guys that brought down what we called the potato chip boards; the Simmons.”5

Revolutionizing surfboard design back on the Mainland in the period after the war, Bob Simmons was the man and his boards were thee machines. Quigg and Kivlin were associated with him and so it was natural that they were riding his designs. Both Quigg and Kivlin were shapers, themselves, and Quigg went on to become one of the great surfboard shapers of the 20th Century. He and Kivlin and the others would be largely responsible for the emergence of the “Malibu board,” which popularized the sport throughout the 1950s. But, at war’s end and the beginning of the closing of what Sir Winston Churchill, in 1946, labelled the “Iron Curtain,”6Quigg and Kivlin were still the apprentices, while Simmons was the master.

“We were amazed to see them on those boards,” continued Rabbit, “they were just standing at the back end on them because they had those wide tails with just one skeg in the center or concave tails with twin fins. Rochlen and Quigg had twin fins. Kivlin had one of his own single finned boards with a narrower tail.”7

Rabbit was asked if the Hawaiians quit using the Hot Curls in favor of the Simmons boards. “No,” he replied. “We still used our own boards, but we tried those potato chip boards, and... my opinion was... they were mushers. Yeah. That’s what the Simmons were. They had concaves or were wide and flat in the back, with big bellies and kick in the nose. We tried ‘em, but they were mushers... good for doing slow turns and maneuvers. But... (chuckling) no speed.”8

A major factor in surfing’s post-war growth was this migration to Hawaii of hard-core surfers from California. The previous two waves of mainland surfer migrations, prior to the war, had been mild compared to this third. And the third was small compared to subsequent waves that occurred following the distribution of the first big wave photograph over international press services in 1953. 

Once the mid-to-late 1940s Californians “rode the great north swell at Makaha, northwest of Waikiki,” wrote Ben Finney in 1960, “the rush from California really began. Since 1949 many Californians, as if proving Jack London’s prophesy, have taken up permanent residence in Hawaii, to be on hand when the surf is running. Many others make the 25000-mile trip annually to spend a month or so riding the towering fall and winter waves on Oahu’s north shore. This flow of Californians bringing new board designs and fresh riding techniques made a terrific impact on the Hawaiian sport. After the war, in fact, Hawaiian surfing was spurred by the combination of its enthusiastic internal growth with this stimulus from its nearest continental neighbor.”9

“A later key participant in this crucial cross-pollination ritual,” surf writer C. R. Stecyk wrote, “was Tom Zahn who arrived in Honolulu in 1947. He in turn immediately lured Joe Quigg, Dave Rochlen and Matt Kivlin to come down soon after. All were armed with provocative, finned balsa Malibu chip surfboards.”10 These wide tailed boards were immediately of interest to the Hawaiians. Quigg remembers a recurrent phrase of the day being repeatedly uttered, ‘Oh, all that balsa, what a waste.’ Rabbit, who personally befriended the Malibu set, rode their boards, but discounted them as ‘mushers.’ The varnished balsa pintail with pine center stringer sported by Quigg employed a dead flat bottom, 50/50 rails and a turned down hard rail in the tail. On his way back to the mainland aboard the S.S. Lurline, Quigg decided to cut the center out of his pintail and reattach the rails, thus making a narrower board.11

When Kivlin and Quigg returned to Malibu where they talked a lot about the speed of the finless hot curl boards. These reports, along with the 1948 arrival on the USA Mainland of Downing, Froiseth and Russ Takaki verified to many the viability of finless, hot curl surfing. It was on this trip that the Hawaiians met Bob Simmons who introduced them to his concepts of composite material construction using foam, wood and fiberglass.12

In 1949, Quigg returned to the Islands with a pared down balsa quiver. While on Oahu, he made some hot curl boards for himself, in Wally’s shop. Kivlin and Rochlen were also in and out of the scene with Dave hooking up an occasional old redwood plank which could be reshaped by himself, Matt or whoever, into a suitable hot curl.13

“Back on the coast,” continued Stecyk, “Quigg built a couple of demonstrator hot curls around 1949/50, ‘just to prove the point.’ One Kivlin project from this period, a redwood replica of Rabbit’s board was an absolute sinker. Joe remembers it as being ‘unpaddleable... at least for us.’ This board was then recycled into a trophy – hence the birth of the ‘Malibu Perpetual Surfboard.’ Around ‘51, Kivlin gave Rabbit a sleek, pulled-in, red colored, finned, balsa chipper which he had originally built for his wife. Kekai rode this board for several years winning both at Makaha and Peru. During this same period, Downing incorporated his high-speed, hot curl theories into a finned, fiberglassed balsa gun. For this board he created an experimental removable fin unit which allowed him to test fin shapes and placement. Wally Froiseth went on to become one of the pioneers of the surfing industry in Hawaii, creating guns as well as a series of innovative paipo boards under his Surf Shop Hawaii label.”14

The reality of the visiting Californians was Spartan. “I befriended Matt and Rochlen,” told Rabbit. “Then we got to know the rest of the guys and hang around together. A lot of times you wouldn’t believe it. No money. They’d come around shoe string, like with about 25 dollars apiece. For housing, they rented a garage from Dickie Cross.15I think it was like ten dollars a month. This was Matt Kivlin, Melon, Joe Quigg, Dave Rochlen, Tom Zahn. They built bunks out of 2” X 4”s and kept their boards under their bunks and that’s where they lived, in that one little garage.”16

Funding schemes varied by surfer, but most all revolved around the beach. “In those days,” recalled Rabbit, “I had the board rental. How I got it was this man had put on an aquacades show at the Natatorium and they had painted all the surfboards florescent and after the show the guy was stuck with these twelve boards. So he wanted to sell ‘em and nobody had money but I had bucks then because I was... (Rabbit makes a dice throwing motion)... so I told him, ‘OK, a hundred bucks,’ and he said, ‘Sold!’ So I put them down at the banyan tree and we used to rent ‘em for like a dollar an hour. And I used to get bucks, boy. Quigg and the guys, if they’d like a dollar to go eat, I’d tell ‘em, ‘Rent three boards, gimme two, you take one.’ Matt Kivlin and those guys they’d just make the bucks enough to eat and that’s it. I used to live high on the hog off those boards though. I told everybody, ‘You need a dollar to go movie or somethin’ to eat, you know, rent three boards.’ We had a good trick in those days. [The rental] Boards were hollow and we used to put corks in the drain holes. We used to tell ‘em when they’d rent the board, ‘Don’t lose that cork or water will fill it up.’ And they’d say, ‘Oh, OK.’ And when you’d push ‘em out, you’d shove the damn thing and pull the cork out (laughing). And they’d paddle out but come right back in cause the board was so heavy. Shave the time. That’s how we’d do it.”17

The lifestyles were equally colorful. Again, Rabbit provides a somewhat less than honest example, but a comradely one: “I used to rent a place down by where Sonny Cunha lived, and on weekends I’d have about 15-16 guys all over the floor. Sometimes I’d come home and couldn’t find room on my bed. They’d sleep on top, under, on the floor, in the closet, in the bathroom, in the bathtub, all over. So I’d go over to my friends place and sleep there. My take off each day was about $70 or $80 [from the surfboard rental business] and I’d take about $20 and take all the guys I could to the Tavern for the $1.25 all-you-can-eat. And the other guys that don’t have any money they’d sit on the outside and we’d fill up da plate and pass ‘em over the wall. Ahhh, we had fun.”18



4th Wave, 1948


Walter Hoffman and his friends comprised the next wave of Coast haoles to come to O‘ahu, after Zahn, Quigg, Kivlin, Porter Vaughn and Rochlen.

Hoffman had started surfing Malibu in 1946 when he was going to school at Hollywood High. “Walt’s father,” wrote Steve Pezman in The Surfer’s Journal, “was in the printed fabric business, was selling to George Brangier and Nat Norfleet Sr. of Kahala (one of the original Hawaiian aloha shirt makers), who sent surfing pictures of Hawaii to young Walter. Also stimulating Walt’s interest in Hawaii were early conversations with Lorrin Harrison at San Onofre who had gone there in the ‘30s to surf.”19

“The first hard-core surf guys to hit Waikiki,” from the Mainland, declared Hoffman, “that I knew of, consisted of Pete Peterson, Lorrin Harrision and Tom Blake who went there before the war... In the next crew were Matt Kivlin, Joe Quigg, Dave Rochlen and Tom Zahn in about 1948 and we were right after them.”20

Hoffman and crew became, in essence, the Fourth Wave of Coast haoles to go Hawaiian in 1948. Hoffman and Ted Crane arrived in Waikiki in the Summer of 1948, having come across on the S.S. Lureline.

“Waikiki was about the only place anybody surfed in the islands at the time,” told Hoffman. “The day we got off the boat the surf was first break. Huge! George Downing took us out to outside Public’s.”21

Hoffman would return to O‘ahu each summer until he enlisted in the Navy and then fortuitously stationed in Hawaii.22

“Over the years during the summer months,” Hoffman wrote of the period 1948-49, “I rented different houses all over Waikiki and lived with different guys – had great times and adventures with them all.”23

Recalling one of the big events of 1949, Hoffman noted the 4th of July paddle race that year, “was one of the big confrontations in George Downing’s life! ‘Big Jimmy’ had been the paddling king of Waikiki until young George beat him in a sprint from the Outrigger Canoe Club to down the beach in front of the Waikiki Tavern. Big Jimmy refused to accept that George was faster, claiming that it was the equipment – that George had used a faster board. So Downing offered to switch boards and go again. According to George, on that second race he stayed close behind Big Jimmy on his left flank – then moved to his right, then passed him at the finish line. After that race, Big Jimmy reportedly quit paddling.”24

Hanging out with Walt Hoffman and friends at the Waikiki Surf Club in those days was Kui Lee, Reno Abellira’s uncle. Kui Lee, “was a young renegade kid who later became a famous song writer (‘I Remember You’ and ‘One Paddle, Two Paddle’),” recalled Walter, “but at the time just a kid who would surf with us and sang and played Hawaiian music with Chubby Mitchell. He died at a young age from cancer and became a legend bigger than life.”25

“When I first got to the islands,” Hoffman recalled, “I heard about Makaha. So I started going out there in the winter and found out that, shit man, the place got really big. Dave Mojas and myself were the first two California guys really actively surfing it three to four times a week for the entire winter. That was the year I took movies (which I still have). I also sent still pictures to Flippy (brother Phillip) and Buzzy [Trent] telling them to get over here – it’s bitchin. And Burrhead [Drever] saw those and all those guys came the next year for the winter, and we camped on the beach at Makaha. From then on for the next few years we would rent houses near Makaha for the winter and in Waikiki during the summertime.”26



Waikiki Surf Club and Tavern


World War II had interrupted the lives of most everyone in the “civilized” world and, in the case of surfing, put a lot of things on hold. Following the war, however, there was a resurgent interest in and some changes to how surfing was organized in its traditional early 20th Century capitol, Waikiki.
By the war’s end, the two main original Waikiki surf clubs had already changed considerably. The native Hui Nalu had limited its activities mostly to outrigger canoe racing. The upper scale, haole-dominated Outrigger Canoe Club had become more of an exclusive prestige-type establishment, “with a wide range of social and athletic interests.”27So, in 1947, the Waikiki Surf Club was formed for the same reasons that the other two had originally been put together in the first decade of the century. “Its purpose,” wrote surfing historian Ben Finney, “was to promote surfing as well as other Hawaiian water sports. It provided board lockers and clothes changing facilities near the beach, for anyone who could pay the small initiation fee and monthly dues.”28

The Waikiki Surf Club filled a void, testified when, under the leadership of John Lind, it enrolled 600 members in three months – some of whom were California surfers that were just starting to come over to the Islands. “We had [island local] members like George Downing, Wally Froiseth, Russ Takaki,” recalled Walt Hoffman. “The Outrigger was down the beach, at $200 per month – a rich guy’s club, very exclusive, you had to be voted in. Our club was for the regular guys who surfed, so it was a great place to meet everybody – where all the transplant Californians hung out.”29

“The club was downstairs in the basement of this house... and consisted of some lockers, showers and a place to leave your board.”30A local guy named Taka was club attendant around the time Hoffman and Ted Crane came over in 1948.31

The Waikiki Surf Club was followed by other newer clubs and the ongoing health of the older ones, but much of the post-war growth of surfing at Waikiki was due to the existence of the Waikiki Surf Club. The club did more than just provide a place for surfers to hang and keep their gear close to the beach. The club also initiated and sponsored several surfing and watermen events that stimulated public interest and fostered competition. Among these were: the Diamond Head Surfboard Championships, the Molokai-Oahu Outrigger Canoe Race, the Makapu Bodysurfing Championships, and what was to become famous as the first big wave surfing contest: the International Surfing Championships at Makaha.32

In the same building as the club “was the Waikiki Tavern,”33 recalled Walter Hoffman – “watering hole, hangout and ‘cultural center’ for the transplant surfers from California.”34

The Tavern’s hey day as surfer sanctuary spanned, perhaps, no more than the decade of the 1940s. Certainly, by the beginning of the 1950s, the Tavern was history. Rabbit Kekai said that, “when the Tavern went, everything went. They had a bar they called the Merry-go-round Bar. It was like a boxing ring, fights every night. The Waikiki Surf Club was upstairs and next to that was Woody Brown’s house. They tore it all out at the same time and left flat beach, that’s where the Duke statue now stands.”35

Woody Brown, his second wife Rachel – aka “Ma Brown” – and their two kids “lived over the Waikiki Tavern,” continued Rabbit. “The Waikiki Surf Club was down on the side, where Woody, Wally, myself, John Linn were charter members, everybody was there. So, he [Woody] used to stay up there and he used to take care of us kids, my brother Jamma and I. In certain ways we took care of him and in certain ways he and Maw took care of us.”36



Abel Gomes


An influential surfer/shaper active but rarely mentioned from the 1940s and the decade before is Abel Gomes. Wally Froiseth wrote to his son about Abel in 2010, noting that “Abel, his wife and two sons (Allen and Pat) lived next door to us in Waikiki… Abel was a master woodworker… made the first set of scooped canoe paddles for outrigger canoe racing… made the first hollow boards for Tom Blake using Blake’s designs… worked for Honolulu Sash and Door as a cabinetmaker.”37

“Honolulu Sash and Door got a big contract to build housing projects for the military… Abel came up with the idea to prefabricate the pieces of the houses at the warehouse and in so doing saved time and money for Honolulu Sash and Door… which really impressed the company owners…”38

One day Wally decided to re-varnish the Waikiki Surf Club’s now-legendary koa racing canoe the “Malia.” Working on it right on Waikiki Beach, he and some other paddlers took off all the old varnish. They went to lunch leaving the canoe in the midday sun. Returning to the beach they found an 8 foot long by 2 inch wide crack in the bottom of the koa canoe. Wally was heartbroken by the crack in the beautiful koa canoe and consulted with Abel. Abel told him not to worry about it and bring it down to the warehouse at Honolulu Sash and Door. They put it in the warehouse and several days later returned to find that the crack had closed up to about a half an inch width. Then Abel, the master woodworker, was able to use his woodworking skills to close up the rest of the crack and glue it back together. This event inspired Wally, himself, to get more interested in woodworking.39

At one point, Abel lifted up his house in Waikiki and made it a two-story when he needed more room for the family. Later, when he moved his family to Kaimuki, George Downing moved in and rented Abel’s house.

Abel decided he was going to move to California which offered better job opportunities for him. Wally mentioned that Abel gave him a bunch of woodworking and other tools that he did not want to take with him to the Mainland. Among these tools was an old drawknife that was collapsible and a hand drill and a set of augers. “Wally gave these to me a couple of years ago with some other old woodworking tools,” added Wally’s son Teene.

Wally mentioned that Abel’s son Alan really enjoyed the ocean. Often, Alan would go surfing, spearfishing, and canoe paddling with Wally. Wally noted that Abel’s son Pat was a little bit shy and when he was younger wasn’t into the ocean as much as his brother was. Wally added that when Pat got older he became a really good surfer and loved riding big waves at Waimea Bay.40

Abel did take his family to California where they did well, working with Dale Velzy, amongst others. His son Alan won the first and second Junior Mens competition at Makaha in 1954 and 1955. First glassing for Jacobs and Velzy in Venice, Alan went on to become a well-known shaper in his own right.


1 Grun, 1991, pp. 524-527.
2 Grun, 1991, p. 527.
3 Grun, 1991, p. 527.
4 Stecyk and Pezman, “Rabbit Kekai -- Talking Story,” 1994, p. 68.
5 Stecyk and Pezman, “Rabbit Kekai -- Talking Story,” 1994, p. 68.
6 Grun, 1991, p. 524.
7 Stecyk and Pezman, “Rabbit Kekai -- Talking Story,” 1994, p. 68.
8 Stecyk and Pezman, “Rabbit Kekai -- Talking Story,” 1994, p. 68.
9 Finney and Houston, 1966, p. 73.
10 Stecyk, “Hot Curl,” 1994, p. 72.
11 Stecyk, “Hot Curl,” 1994, p. 72.
12 Stecyk, “Hot Curl,” 1994, p. 72.
13 Stecyk, “Hot Curl,” 1994, p. 72.
14 Stecyk, “Hot Curl,” 1994, p. 72.
15 Rabbit must have Dickie confused with his brother or someone else, because Dickie died in 1943 and the third wave didn’t happen until after the war (1947).
16 Stecyk and Pezman, “Rabbit Kekai -- Talking Story,” 1994, p. 68. Rabbit may have been referring to Dickie Cross’ existing garage, as he had died at Waimea in 1943. See Gault-Williams, “Woody Brown.”
17 Stecyk and Pezman, “Rabbit Kekai -- Talking Story,” 1994, p. 68.
18 Stecyk and Pezman, “Rabbit Kekai -- Talking Story,” 1994, p. 68.
19 Hoffman, 1993, p. 79. Intro by Steve Pezman (?).
20 Hoffman, 1993, p. 79.                                                                                 
21 Hoffman, 1993, p. 79.
22 Hoffman, 1993, p. 79. Quigg and others started coming over in 1947.
23 Hoffman, 1993, p. 82.
24 Hoffman, 1993, p. 86. See classic photo, on page 87, of George Downing and Big Jimmy shaking hands, with George holding the trophy and Big Jimmy looking like he was hating life. In the crowd are Walter, Ted Crane, John Lind and Termite.
25 Hoffman, 1993, p. 85. See photo of Kui Lee strumming his uke in front of the Waikiki Surf Club.
26 Hoffman, 1993, p. 79.
27 Finney, Ben R. and Houston, James D. Surfing, The Sport of Hawaiian Kings, C.E. Tuttle Company, Rutland, Vermont, ©1966, p. 72.
28 Finney and Houston, 1966, p. 72.
29 Hoffman, Walter. “Tales of Town and Country,” Walter Hoffman’s Scrapbook (The Early Years: 1948-1954), The Surfer’s Journal, Volume 2, Number 2, Summer 1993, p. 85. See photos.
30 Hoffman, 1993, p. 85. See photos.
31 Hoffman, 1993, p. 85. See photo same page.
32 Finney and Houston, 1966, pp. 72-73.
33 See Gault-Williams, “World War II,” Dorian Paskowitz’s description.
34 Hoffman, 1993, p. 89.
35 Stecyk and Pezman, “Rabbit Kekai -- Talking Story,” 1994, pp. 68-69.
36 Stecyk and Pezman, “Rabbit Kekai -- Talking Story,” 1994, p. 75.
37 Wally Froiseth to Teene Froiseth, December 24, 2010. Abel misspelt “Able,” throughout.
38 Wally Froiseth to Teene Froiseth, December 24, 2010.
39 Wally Froiseth to Teene Froiseth, December 24, 2010. Teene’s words, slightly edited.

40 Wally Froiseth to Teene Froiseth, December 24, 2010. Teene’s words, slightly edited.

Bob Simmons (1919-1954)

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Aloha and Welcome to this chapter in the LEGENDARY SURFERS series covering the life and contributions of Bob Simmons.

I am indebted to many for helping with this updated chapter, but most especially to Bob Simmons' friend and biographer, John Elwell.

All images, except where noted, are courtesy of The Sufer's Journal.

To my knowledge, this is the most in-depth study of Simmons ever published. Please tell a friend about it. Mahalo!

Simmons Sandwich



“If anybody was ever to get the credit of being the ‘Father of the Modern Surfboard,’” famed Santa Barbara area surfer and shaper Rennie Yater told me, “I would say it would have to be Simmons. He changed board design in a shorter period of time than anybody has before or since.”1

Back in the 1940s, Bob Simmons was the first person to consciously and purposefully apply hydrodynamic theory to create dynamic lift in surfboards; the first one to use fiberglass and resin to strengthen lighter weight boards; and the first one to actually define a surfboard and describe how it works. Using the principles of Archimedes, Newton, Bernoulli, Munk and Lord, Simmons turned his surfboards -- what he called his “machines” -- into “hydrodynamic planning hulls.”2 By combining the hydrodynamics of planing hulls with the beginning of the plastics revolution, Simmons radically improved surfboard design forever.

Legendary surfer Peter Cole put it succinctly: “Simmons did more for surfing than anyone else.”3



1930s “diss-ass-turs”


Robert Wilson Simmons was born in Los Angeles on March 29, 1919. His father was a postal worker but his family was basically poor.4In his early teens, Bob developed a painful tumor on his left ankle. The prognosis was cancer and the doctor’s recommendation was amputation. The pain was intense and he was forced to drop out of high school. His mother, anguished over the thought of her younger son without a leg, sought a second opinion. Dr. Murphy, a well-known naturopath and chiropractor, prescribed a radical clean-out diet of fresh fruits, juices, special vitamins and grain gruel. He treated the leg directly by manipulating it and within nine months, the tumor disappeared. Bob remained on this diet and visited Dr. Murphy for the rest of his relatively short life.5

Because his body weakened due to his long period of immobility, Bob took up bicycling to strengthen himself and speed up his recovery.6He got to be such an excellent bicyclist that, years later, he used “to cycle to Malibu and Hermosa from Pasadena,” his friend and biographer John Elwell told me. “Not many knew he was an endurance athlete. [Dale] Velzy said he could have been a State cycling champion or on the Olympic team. No one could touch him in a race.”7

“Roy Bream was one of the best long distance paddlers on the coast, and an endurance athlete,” John began, in telling of a classic Simmons bicycling moment some time after he had taken up surfing. “One day he showed up at the Hermosa pier with the latest racing bike. Simmons looked it over and challenged him to a race. Roy declined, looking at Simmons’ old beat up bike... but with all the gears and tuned to perfection. Simmons said he would spot him a lifeguard tower on a race to Manhattan Beach.

“Roy smiled and knew that he could peddle easy to the first lifeguard tower a couple hundred yards away and then the race would really begin. The lifeguard there was on the phone when Bream passed to start Simmons. The race was on.

“Bream looked back and Simmons was way back. He looked back again as the lifeguard towers blurred past and Simmons was gaining on him! When they got to Mahattan, Simmons was drafting him and swung out to pass him and beat him! Bream could not believe it!

“What Bream did not know is that Simmons had counted his sprockets and calculated the speed he was capable of maintaining. Simmons, the brute he was on a bicycle, knew he had designed his bicycle with higher gears and was faster and knew the distance exactly. He did all the calculations in his head while chatting with Bream, before he made the challenge. Such was Simmons!”8

Way before this, though, shortly after he had taken up cycling in 1936 at age 17, Simmons suffered another serious physical setback when he collided with a moving automobile while riding his bike. A car at high speed had done a U turn right in front of him.9 At the nearby hospital, he was diagnosed with a skull fracture, a broken leg and a badly fractured elbow. When he regained consciousness, he refused to eat hospital food. His mother had to work out a deal with the head nurse in order to smuggle his special diet to him by coming up the fire exit at prearranged times. John Elwell, who knew Simmons about as well as anyone wrote, “You can picture Simmons in his hospital bed, his head swathed in bandages, his left arm and leg suspended in casts, his fierce dark eyes peering out, his mouth terse and twisted, thinking about how he had beaten cancer and now this! He would often say, as a favorite expression, ‘What a dis-ass-tur!”10

His hospital doctor remarked that Simmons had strong bones and that’s probably what saved his life. The doctor had to put a stainless wire loop in Simmons’ elbow to lock the arm in a natural extended position. His instructions to Simmons were to regularly exercise the arm or he stood a good chance of losing it. After the doctor left, another patient who had fallen off a ladder and who happened to be well-known surfer Gard Chapin overheard the advice and hobbled up on crutches with a casted broken leg. “You ought to try surfing because you paddle and swim a lot.” As Simmons would recall the story, years later, Chapin told a lot of tall tales, one of which particularly interested him. “According to this surfer,” Simmons remembered, “you’re riding along in this softly lit green room and it is so quiet that if you whistle or yell, you can hear the echo! – Like a damn fool, I believed him!”11

Big wave legend Greg Noll recalled that when he started surfing at 11, he listened intently to the stories Dale Velzy and Bob Simmons told him. Noll remembers Simmons talking about this hospital scene and tales of the green room: “This guy tells me you take off on these waves and you start down the side and you angle off one way or the other and these waves throw out over the top of you. Suddenly you’re inside this enclosure, a green room, and the wave has broken completely over you. If you want, you can yodel or yell and the noise bounces off the side of the walls. You go on like this for a while, then you go flying out of the other end of this tube into daylight.”12

Noll added that this first indirect exposure to surfing really captivated Simmons. “He was determined to go out and get into that green room. He believed that every wave was like this, not realizing that it’s every surfer’s dream to spend even a second or two in that ‘green room.’”13

A few years of this second long recovery passed before Bob Simmons first hit the surf. Already, he had lost some of his formative years as a young man. The years he had spent were years of physical suffering, without normal associations and experiences young men of his age typically had. Summarizing the pluses and minuses, John Elwell wrote that “He became very self reliant, frank, outspoken and lacked social skills.”14

Added to the “dis-ass-turs” that had already befallen him, Simmons’ casted elbow became infected and normal atrophy from disuse occurred. As a result, he had to become ambidextrous. Having been left handed, he had to learn to use his right arm and hand as well as he had his left. Even so, when he took to surfing, he rode as a natural left hander would: “goofy foot,” with the right foot forward and left foot back.15

During this second recovery period, he got into designing and constructing boomerangs and throwing them with accuracy. He also took up precision hatchet throwing and table tennis. He got back on bicycles again and became one of the most powerful of early cyclists along the beach. He used to boast, “You can go anywhere on a bicycle!”16



Caltech


Around this time, Simmons' older brother, Dewey invented a strain-measuring device at Caltech called the SR-4 strain gauge. The device helped the aerospace and construction industries by allowing stress to be measured for such things as airplane wings and bridges.

According to a 1986 article in the California Institute of Technology (Caltech) Engineering & Science magazine, Dewey Simmons sued the university for royalties. In 1949, the California Supreme Court awarded him the right to what amounted to $1 million in royalties over the 17-year life of the patent. Even before the decision, the school changed its rules so that all patents developed on campus become Caltech property. Dewey subsequentluy moved on to oil prospecting, skin-diving and 3-D photography.

Unfortunately, the brothers had an argument during the war years and never talked to each other again. They were a lot alike: stubborn, reclusive and brilliant.17

Simmons actively read and studied, but missed two years of high school, making him technically a “drop out.” Even though he never gained a high school diploma,18he tested for and passed the admittance exams for entry to the Caltech, in Pasadena. He also won a scholarship there, just as his brother Dewey had done. Simmons now demonstrated his IQ level by never bringing a book home from Caltech, seemingly never doing any homework, and still getting nothing but straight A’s in advanced mathematics, the language for science and engineering.19

“I had always wondered about Bob,” recalled John Elwell when he met him later on, “hearing him, watching him surf and work, about his incredible mind for recall of facts, exact statements of wave heights and skill in duplicating shapes. He also had an uncanny judgment to identify a position of lineup in any surfing area.” Apparently, Simmons was eidetic and possessed a photographic mind. “There was no doubt Bob Simmons was a gifted genius,” Elwell went on, “with precise coordination, tenacious will, programmed to interpret things mathematically almost instantly. This was combined with a razorous tongue and wit, asking for no quarter and receiving no quarter. He was a fierce competitor, with one thing in mind: victory! Like most geniuses, he would be difficult to understand, and like most in history, would often be rejected.”20

At Caltech, Simmons studied under a mathematics professor by the name of Bell, who wrote the History of Mathematics. Through his courses, he was introduced to the theories and formulas of great scientists such as Archimedes, Newton, and Daniel Bernoulli. Bernoulli was especially important to Simmons because of Bernoulli’s contributions in the Law of Lift, as it related directly to aeronautic wings and planing hulls. Not surprisingly, Simmons was in a flying club that designed and made boomerangs, which are essentially flying wings.21

It was 1939 when Bob Simmons first got on a surfboard. While visiting his sister and her husband on Balboa Island, he was towed into the waves along Newport Beach, by speedboat, riding an old Tom Blake paddle board.22 He had built the hollow board from plans out of Popular Science magazine, but discontinued using it almost immediately. Instead, he bought a 150 pound solid plank from Gard Chapin and then modified it.23



Machinist by Night, Shaper by Day


When war broke out in 1941, Simmons dropped out of the Caltech. Fellow surfer Dave Rochlen recalls that Simmons always insisted that he had attended, “Not for credit, but for knowledge, he used to say.”24 One can imagine he might just have been putting “spin” on what happened, but his purpose, apparently, was to learn all he could about aero and hydro dynamics, not get a degree.
He now switched his attack and took advantage of a wartime training act, learning how to be a skilled machinist. He worked late at night which gave him the daytime for surfing. He later recalled that his early attempts at surfing were definite “dis-ass-turs.” John Elwell recalls Simmons saying, “I had to have a friend or my mother help me load the board on a car because it was so heavy. I had to drag it down the beach. You couldn’t turn them and they would pearl.”25

It didn’t take Simmons long to work out alternative transportation to the beach. At one point, he used to tow a red wagon with his board on it, attached to the rear of his bicycle. From this simple transportation arrangement, Simmons went on to even hop freight trains with his board. He would travel up and down the Southern California coast that way.26

During his daytimes Simmons surfed and also “went to work for Gard Chapin building garage doors,” wrote Australian champion surfer Nat Young in his History of Surfing, “and started to build his own surfboards as well. Naturally his first boards were copies of Gard’s but within a year he had developed those ideas and improved on them.”27

Chapin was a member of the Palos Verdes Surf Club [PVSC] -- at that time the most well-known of all surf clubs. “He was considered one of the best surfers on the coast,” remembered Elwell. “He was aggressive, very vocal and not very well liked.”28 Rennie Yater agreed: “Gard Chapin was a really good surfer. He and Simmons really didn’t get along that good. Nobody really got along good with Simmons! But, they admired each other their ability.”29 Chapin would later gain renewed notoriety as the step-father of Miki “Da Cat” Dora. In the 1930s and ‘40s, however, he was known for his surfing and as one of the very best in the PVSC. Notably, in the world of surfboard design, Gard Chapin significantly changed the accepted San Onofre style of rail. The plan shapes were similar to the old San Onofre outlines but even as far back as pre-World War II, Gard was turnng the rail down in the back and using nose blocks to give lift in the nose.30

Bob and Gard built and repaired traditional surfboards for mostly younger surfers who were able to enjoy the sport without the the war coming between them and the waves. “To make money,” period surfer Joe Quigg recalled, “he had started remodeling old-fashioned boards for people.”31

Simmons also started making some boards of his own. Probably taking the cue from Chapin, they had better rail design than the planks of the previous decade. Gard became his mentor and Simmons picked up his woodworking skills from him – as well as a lot of attitude.32

Kit Horn was a young teenage surfer during the early days of World War II. Remembering the first time Simmons showed up at Malibu, Kit said that Simmons swam a large board out, with his left arm on the board. Simmons was 8-to-10 years older than the kids at Malibu. Most everyone his own age was either in the military or in production during the daytime. Some notable kids later became his friends; surfers like Peter and Corny Cole, Buzzy Trent and Matt Kivlin.33

Although Simmons was a loner, he did not surf alone all the time. One of the most enthusiastic of the younger surfers during the war and after was Buzzy Trent. Buzzy would tag along with Simmons on many of his impromptu surfaris. “Together, they were a real pair –” recalls Joe Quigg’s good friend Dave Rochlen, “like the mad scientist and his big, burly side-kick Igor.”34

In the early ’40s, Simmons had a stripped down ‘31 Ford, with flat bed and racks, whichbecame the surf vehicle for he and his younger friends. “He modified fuel mixtures with kerosene to extend his mileage,” noted Elwell.35During the surfaris with the 1931 Ford, Simmons racked up repeated tickets for speeding and vehicle violations.

One time when both Simmons and Trent were on surfari, during the war, and while Simmons still had his flatbed, they rode “up the coast in [Simmons’] old Model A flatbed,” wrote surf writer Craig Stecyk. “Trent needs to relieve himself in a major way, but Simmons as usual is in a hurry. The ever-innovative Buzzy climbs out on the wooden flatbed, squats over a convenient hole in the platform and begins to answer nature’s call. Other motorists are taken aback at this graphic spectacle. Bob is outraged... ‘Trent, you stupid bastard, quit shitting through that hole.’ Trent’s well-measured reply was one that could only come from a person in that state of satisfied quietude and relief, ‘OK Simmons, what do you want me to do, shit in your front seat?’ End of discussion.”36

During the later part of the war, Simmons went to work as a mathematician for Douglas Aircraft. He’d leave work when the surf came up and return when it dropped and Douglas put up with it. While still working with Gard Chapin, he took over the family garage in Pasadena for his own surfboard development and research. The war was winding down and suddenly it was over. In August 1945, a big swell came in the day the first atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, Japan. Pat O’Connor, a Los Angeles county lifeguard, remembers the day vividly. After the news of the bomb drop came over the radio, “Simmons ranted and raved all day that they would ruin the world with this new bomb. No one knew what it was, but Simmons knew something about its potential destructive powers.”37

In December 1945, Simmons collided with another car at San Onofre, totaling both cars, but without injuries. Afterward, he replaced the ‘31 Ford flatbed with a '37 Ford Tudor, V-60. He gutted the Tudor out, except for the driver’s seat, made a plywood deck in it, had a wooden milk crate for a passenger seat and racked his board on top. With sleeping bag, hydro graphic charts, canned soy beans, fruit and boomerangs, he wandered and surfed the southern and some central parts of the California coastline.38

Simmons refused to sleep in a bed, preferring the floor, instead. This must have had something to do with the pressure on his back. Even so, Simmons acquired a “taste for the meanest, hardest breaking shore break on the biggest days.”39 Later to become the first modern surfboard builder, Simmons became a dedicated surfer who was “usually first out in the morning and last in at night.”40

His nephew Rick recalls one particular day that demonstrated Simmons’ penchant for the big, gnarly stuff despite his handicap. It was after he got known for his surfing and shaping. He was taking a pounding, but fully stoked on the smashing he was receiving, after making some fantastic takeoffs. A lifeguard came down the beach, angrily ordering him out of the water and lecturing him on how dangerous it was. Lastly, he demanded to know his name. When Simmons told him, Rick recalls the lifeguard stammering and then apologizing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was you.”41



Lord, Munk and Physics


In early 1946, Joe Quigg and his former Santa Monica High School classmate Dave Rochlen visited Simmons at his garage. Rochlen was on leave from the Marines. “Dave and I got curious about Simmons,” said Quigg. “We were still into surfing, and we heard he was building boards in his garage in Pasadena, so we drove over to see what he was up to.” They found Simmons in the process of building three traditional redwood surfboards. “At that time,” said Quigg, “he was still selling and talking up big, heavy boards, the same kind we’d always used.”42

Quigg admitted that, in those days, he wasn’t too impressed by Simmons. However, Dave Rochlen said, “When we first met Simmons, we knew he was different. We knew he was somehow special, and we knew he was up to something. We called him a mad scientist.”43 Importantly, Simmons was just about “the only guy anybody could buy boards from during those [war] years.”44

In 1946, many of the technological developments used during the war to enhance the country’s military capabilities came out on the open market. “Most important to Simmons and surfboard history,” wrote Elwell, “was a publication by one of the finest US naval architects, Lindsey Lord, a Ph.D. from MIT who did an intensive study on planing hulls. Most of the work was done in Hawaii, with the initial phases using simple shapes looking like body boards. Surfboards were used also. Simmons had somehow acquired a copy. Lord’s study was remarkable. The Navy had sought an ideal width and length shape for quick lift, maneuverability and speed. Lord maintained the study was solid information and a new, not previously known, naval science.

“Simmons must have been delighted,” wrote Elwell. “The book was full of graphs, complex equations and recommended a new material to strengthen lightweight planing hulls: fiberglass and resin. The form developed was simple parallelism, with an ideal length-width ratio number called aspect ratio...

“One of the problems, Lord relates, concerned the ideal shape. It was not attractive, but could be. He mentions that pointed sterns produce the most drag, extreme lightness is dangerous, and planing hulls are complex. He warned that a few weird things work, but don’t be fooled... everything modified to get something else... is a compromise. All things were considered and applied for the ultimate goal of superlative speed; such as the nature of water, skimming on it, Newton’s Laws, Bernoulli’s Law of Lift, resistance, load, attack angles, rudder designs and center of gravity. The book was the mother lode for Simmons. Many surfers saw it in Simmons’ possession, but couldn’t understand it, much less apply it to surfboards. Simmons told me he went to a boat show and a salesman for fiberglass showed him the material and described its application and use. He located an outlet and purchased the material downtown. He was quite matter of fact about it. The materials were being marketed all over the country.”45

Besides being a naval architect from MIT, writing the Naval Architecture of Planing Hulls and using the Simmons strain gauge, Lindsey Lord had first become “famous for designing fast rum planing boats during prohibition and later [was] commissioned to improve US Navy's speed attack boats in Hawaii, some of the experiments were using surfboards. Actually, those things like surfboards are called plates, work on Bernoulli Law.”46

As Lord wrote, “There is nothing revolutionary about any of this, because one thing is built upon another... If you change something in this, you also change something else.” From Lord’s perspective, a planing hull is like an aircraft, designed for a calculated load, with a pilot.47

Lord’s study and the fundamental changes to surfboard design that Simmons was to make are connected mainly to Newton’s Laws of Motion and Bernoulli’s Law of Lift:

Sir Isaac Newton’s Three Laws of Motion were first published in 1687 and have been tested and verified many times. They are:

1.An object at at rest tends to stay at rest, and an object in motiontends to stay in motion, with the same direction and speed. Motion (or lack of motion) cannot change without an unbalanced force acting upon it. If nothing is happening to you, and nothing does happen, you will never go anywhere. If you're going in a specific direction, unless something happens to you, you will always go in that direction. Forever.

2. The acceleration of an object produced by a net (total) applied force is directly related to the magnitude of the force, the same direction as the force, and inversely related to the mass of the object (inverse is a value that is one over another number; for example, the inverse of 2 is 1/2). If you exert the same force on two objects of different mass, you will get different accelerations (changes in motion). The effect (acceleration) on the smaller mass will be greater (more noticeable). The difference in effect (acceleration) is entirely due to the difference in their masses. This law is commonly represented by the equation F=ma.

3. For every action (force) there is an equal and opposite reaction (force). Acting forces encounter other forces in the opposite direction.

A fluid flowing past the surface of a body exerts a force on it. Lift is the component of this force that is perpendicular to the oncoming flow direction. It contrasts with the drag force, which is the component of the surface force parallel to the flow direction. If the fluid is air, the force is called an aerodynamic force. In water, it is called a hydrodynamic force.48

Daniel Bernoulli published his Law of Lift in Hydronydamica in 1738.

In simplified form, Bernoulli’s principle states that within a steady airflow of constant energy, when the air flows through a region of lower pressure it speeds up and vice versa. There is a direct mathematical relationship between the pressure and the speed. If one knows the speed at all points within the airflow one can calculate the pressure, and vice versa. For any airfoil generating lift, there must be a pressure imbalance, i.e. lower average air pressure on the top than on the bottom. Bernoulli's principle states that this pressure difference must be accompanied by a speed difference.49

Bernoulli's principle can be used to calculate the lift force on an airfoil if the behavior of the fluid flow in the vicinity of the foil is known. Considering surfboards as a kind of airfoil moving through a liquid, if the water flowing past the top surface of the board is moving faster than the water flowing past the bottom surface, then Bernoulli’s principle implies that the pressure on the surfaces of the board will be lower on its deck than below. This pressure difference results in an upwards lifting force. Whenever the distribution of speed past the top and bottom surfaces of a surfboard (or wing) is known, the lift forces can be calculated to a good approximation using Bernoulli's equations. There’s a lot more to it than this, but in simplified form, these are the considerations Bob Simmons put into his board making once he got going.

Simmons was a frequent visitor to the Scripps Institute of Oceanography, in La Jolla. As important to Simmons as Lord’s publication on planing hulls, was a wealth of new scientific research on wave mechanics. During the war, the Navy had had a desperate need to predict waves for the success of amphibious landings. Dr. Walter Munk, a world renown oceanographer and an expert on waves did some work for the Navy in this regard, including using Simmons’ brother Dewey’s strain gage to record wave pressure.50 Munk had also, coincidentally, been a classmate of Simmons’ at Caltech and, at this time, was married to one of Gard Chapin’s surfing sisters. He was assisted by Towne “Tommy” Cromwell, a young oceanographer and a very fine and well-liked surfer from Windansea.51Munk and colleagues published their research and it was from these that, “Simmons found out what he was really dealing with in surfboard design.”52

Interestingly, another Simmons/Munk classmate at Caltech had been Hugh Bradner, a physicist who worked on the atomic bomb at Los Alamos. He went to Scripps afterwards and worked with Munk to invent the wet suit for the U.S. Navy.53



Scarfed Nose, Fiberglass and Resin


Simmons now “started shaping and reshaping planks with the modern rail and used fiber glass to reinforce the noses,” John Elwell wrote, “because the design required the thinning of the tail for attack angle and thinning the nose for quicker lift, like an aircraft... The design of course eliminated extra weight (load).”54

A little while after Simmons got his hands on Lord’s planing hulls study, both he and Chapin started modifying the planks they were working on with nose applications of fiberglass. Out in the surf, they were overtaking and passing everyone else, “proclaiming planning hull design,” Elwell wrote. “Those who got in the way and did not heed their abusive warnings were rammed. Chapin evidently got away with it. Simmons was dunked and beaten up in Malibu, punched down at San Onofre and stoned on the trail to Palos Verdes Cove. He returned in the evening with an axe and drove it into some paddle boards that were lying around; ostensibly belonging to the stoners. Vandalism to the boards on his car by Palos Verdes surfers occurred in retaliation.”55 It’s interesting to note that Mickey Dora, who became well-known for shoving people out of his way later on at Malibu, may have learned his attitude from his step father Gard and Bob Simmons.

Simmons’ first real departure from the traditional surfboard plan shape was the scarfed nose, using fiberglass and resin. Surfers who rode a board with a scarfed nose acknowledged that the nose lift helped keep the board from pearling. Soon Simmons had others wanting him to make modifications to their own boards and “scarf another piece on the nose and fair it in to create nose lift.”56
The use of fiberglass in surfboard construction was just beginning.

“Preston ‘Pete’ Peterson was actually the first person to build a fibreglass surfboard,” wrote famed Australian surfer Nat Young, and “he did this in June 1946 with the help of Brant Goldsworthy, who had a plastics company in Los Angeles which supplied component parts for aircraft in World War II. The board was constructed of two hollow moulded halves joined together with a redwood central stringer and with the seam sealed with fibreglass tape.”57

“Brant Goldsworthy and his partner Ted Thal,” continued Young, “were the first to sell fibreglass and resin to the private sector. The first resin manufacturer was the Bakelite Corporation. Those early resins were the same viscosity as the resins used today but the catalyst was a paste-like vaseline that had to be thoroughly mixed with the resin. The drying time was totally dependent on the amount of sunshine and naturally one side dried while the rails were still tacky. Because it made the boards look ugly compared to the shiny varnish already available it took a little time to gain acceptance, but, because resin was much more protective, change was inevitable... [Joe] Quigg remembers walking into Ted Thal’s one-room shop (now a huge corporation) and seeing little bottles of stuff that had just arrived at the Thalco Chemical Company. Ted didn’t know what it was, but the label read ‘setting fluid - highly explosive’ and that made him suspect it was the catalyst he needed. Joe pleaded with Thal to let him have some; Thal, however, declined. Frustrated, Joe remembered that one of his friends, Dave Sweet, had an uncle who was in the plastics department of Douglas Aircraft so Joe persuaded Dave to contact his uncle and get some setting fluid. When Joe came back to Dave’s house a couple of days later he saw Dave in the backyard putting out a fire which had occurred from a particularly hot mix! Because it was proving so hard to get he drove back to Ted Thal’s office, identified the suspicious stuff in the little bottles, and persuaded Thal to part with it and some other funny stuff called pigment or tint.”58

Radical changes occurred in Simmons’ boards after 1946. The rails were coming down, tails and noses were thinner, but they were still basically modified planks. But, Simmons took design further by developing the first twin fin boards with concave bottoms, and later experimenting with nose and tail contours and rounded rails.59

Simmons Twin Fin


At the time, no one could figure out what the small twin fins Simmons had on his personal boards were all about. Unknown to most was that resistance is a key factor in aerodynamics and hydrodynamics. Off planing forms comes eddy flow resistance and suction. The “Magnus Effect” comes into play. The twin fin properly placed on a surfboard deflects eddy flow, improves speed, and lessens drag and eddy flow suction.60

Along with Simmons’ research and development came testing. He tested his boards all over Southern California. He was seen in Solana Beach, in the San Diego area, throwing his boomerangs off the cliffs there. He frequented the San Diego County Lifeguard HQ and often took all comers in ping pong, beating most everyone with his left wired locked elbow.61

Such ping pong session is one Craig Stecyk wrote as occurring on September 16, 1947. Supposedly a Tuesday night at the Hollywood Tables on Highland Boulevard, Simmons battled it out with then-upcoming board shaper and Manhattan Beach local Dale “The Hawk” Velzy. The Hawk had accepted Simmons’ challenge to “come and see some real ping pong.” They played for a 19-cent can of cling peaches.

“Out of my way, you fucking kook. I’m coming through or over, it’s your choice,” was the kind of attitude Simmons exhibited. This session was the first of many to follow, as the two developed a routine of ping pong playing while arguing over board design late into the evening.62

“Some surfer-observers of that period,” wrote surf writer Leonard Lueras, “say that Simmons was compelled to modify the shapes and weights of his surfboards because of his handicap. It was hard for him to use the heavy redwood and pine paddleboards then in vogue; he was constantly trying to make his one-armed surfing easier.”63

“Witnesses and photographs exist,” countered Elwell, “attesting to the fact that Simmons’ “left arm was now indistinguishable from his right. He paddled with a dip with the left shoulder to get extension and sometimes used a bar of paraffin to extend his reach. He had a strong paddle. No one passed him, and a good set of shoulders were developed. His legs were very strong. His swimming, however, was an unorthodox stroke without full extension and rotation. He was definitely handicapped in this department. He kept his head up, stroked underwater with the left arm dragging and slashing. This did not deter him from surfing the biggest surf, skirting rips, making his way through powerful shore break. He surfed with the best watermen on the coast and no one ever worried about him.

“Many years later in surf media, his arm became surf folklore and ‘withered,’ and he became known as a ‘one-armed surfer,’ a ‘terrible swimmer, who most likely drowned because he couldn’t swim,’ and a ‘cripple’ – all were myths.”64

 Simmons Twin Fin



Hydrodynamic Planing Hulls


By 1948, Mike Johnson, a friend of Simmons’ who became a surfer, said that Simmons had a board down to nine pounds and was testing it at the Caltech test tank. Kit Horn substantiated that it was at this time that Simmons came down to Malibu with the first really radical board.65

“Simmons was reported to be going so fast that his boards would become airborne and go out of control,” wrote Elwell. “He had pushed the high aspect ratio and lightness to the limit. To correct this he increased weight and rebalanced his boards.

“The new boards had unusual features. They were vastly lighter. The noses and tails were thin and featured hydrofoil rails. They were wide and with wide, slightly pulled-in tails. The nose had an increased turn up with a camber and slight belly in them.”66

Simmons called these “hydrodynamic planing hulls.” He did not elaborate further, but it was obvious they combined elements based on the laws of physics and never seen before. “A new profile emerged,” wrote Elwell. “The profile allowed the shedding of many pounds, immersing the tail for a better attack angle. The tails were wide and thin, giving quick lift for planing. The rail allowed for penetration into the wave and giving improved deflection, readily seen in early photographs.

“The results were phenomenal. The boards picked up waves quickly, were stable, easy to paddle and turn and had great speed. They were very easy to surf. It was clear that Simmons had applied some distinctly new combinations. These factors were confused by observers to be lightness due to materials, although lightness is only part of the whole. Hydrodynamic qualities result from form that gives dynamic lift.”67

Simmons continued to receive visitors to his shaping area. “It was up in Pasadena where I found that Bob Simmons was,” recalled Rennie Yater. “Some kid that lived around the corner said, ‘Hey, this guy Bob Simmons’ lived down in the south part of Pasadena. So, one day a couple of weeks later – it must have been 1948 – I went down there to South Oakland Avenue; found him working in his garage. And here’s all these different looking surfboards, more than I’ve ever, ever seen before. I was awed, to say the least.

“It wasn’t long after that that I bought one of the boards he had modified. He put a scoop nose on an old board. I think it was at least 40-pounds lighter than the last thing I’d been riding. I’d been riding 90-pounds and this thing was, like, 50. That was a big jump. Then I got really serious about surfing.

“Bob Simmons absolutely fascinated me, because he was a person who wouldn’t go with tradition at all. He was out there on his own brain wave. I used to go down there, once in a while, you know? Watch him work, talk with him. He was an arrogant type of guy. Sometimes he really wanted to talk and other times he did not want to talk at all and he’d tell you so. But, when he did talk, he was really interesting to listen to...

“When his boards started showing up at San Onofre, they couldn’t believe it. Such a traditional place. Everything had to look the same, ride the same, pose the same... Simmons’ boards weren’t welcome at San Onofre. See, his influence was more at Malibu. He could care less about the San Onofre area. He always went up and tested his stuff at Malibu or Palos Verdes Cove...

“To go back a little farther,” Rennie continued, “Simmons worked for Gard Chapin. He had a garage door business, as I remember. So, Simmons had access to a lot of different materials. They used plywood a lot for garage doors. Simmons finally came up with this – probably the first production line other than Pacific Systems – the first production line surfboard that had a foam [expanded polystyrene] core, balsa wood rails, and plywood deck. He came up with that idea probably because of all the influence he had from plywood... mahogany veneers on the outside to get them even lighter. He did incredible things for the time he did ‘em in, compared to today. He’s also fortunate to come out of the Second World War. Fiberglass was a revolutionary product to come out of the war. See, here comes this material on the open market. So, he now had access to that.”68

Simmons never attempted to fully explain his designs to anyone because they were “complex and the applications were simple, and could be modified,” wrote John Elwell. “He was also secretive and didn’t trust some people.” His brother Dewey had a long legal battle over his invention of the electrical strain gage and this was probably ever-present in his brother’s mind. Elwell, who knew him, also feels “There was also some delight in baffling some of the rule of thumb, surfing know-it-alls. There was no doubt he rejected exaggerators and dreamers on the beach. He gravitated to the better surfers and ignored the less serious and unskilled.”69

Basically,” wrote Elwell, “Simmons was dealing with others having a ‘Beach Boy Mentality.’ As Jim Voit, a surfer, lifeguard, his friend who became an engineer said, ‘Simmons would just laugh at those guys!’

“Simmons had a good one liner for this, ‘That is just what you think!’ Actually, materials are insignificant and surfboards and surf craft have been made of all kinds of materials including metal, rubber, cloth, and wood. It is hydrodynamic form and principle that makes planing possible. Fiber glass and foam has been over exaggerated because people don’t understand.

“Simmons was quite frank about the new boards and said, ‘They are simple and easy to make, and anyone can make them in a garage.’ ‘You can change the nose and tail somewhat because we are really surfing on the rails.’ He condemned pointed noses because they broke off too easy. They also could cause injury. He defined surfboards as ‘planing hulls’ and his boards were ‘hydrodynamic planing hulls.’ He also worked out trajectory and said we were surfing almost fast sideways as forward. He said we did not need much fin and what fin, or skeg, we had was for ‘directional stability.’”70

In 1947, Simmons had started messing around with Styrofoam -- a new material at that time. Foam had been used during World War II, molded into fuselage radar domes. Simmons located the raw chemical sources from a government or corporate agency, then went about building a cement mold in the ground. With this, he blew his own foam to make “styrofoam core sandwich boards,”71using a plywood lid topped by five large rocks. Elwell recalls seeing these blanks, in 1950, at the lifeguard station at Imperial Beach. The mold still exists by a barn on his late uncle and aunt’s ranch in Norwalk. Here he experimented with designs and shapes. The location afforded him a place to keep tools and have a large work space.72

Simmons Sandwich


Joe Quigg said it was 1949 when Matt Kivlin began talking to Simmons about the idea of making light weight, hollow plywood rescue boards.73“Simmons thought that was interesting, but instead of simply making the boards hollow he began sandwiching styrofoam between plywood and glassing the whole thing over.” The drawback with styrofoam, however, was that it would dissolve once catalyzed resin was poured onto it, so the two together turned out to be impractical. By sandwiching styrofoam in between plywood, however, Simmons made it viable.74“The first couple of boards of this type,” wrote Elwell, “had 50/50 rail lines, but by ‘49 he had them down to 60/40 and as low as 80/20. The tails were so thin as to be fragile.”75

Quigg was still in the Islands when Kivlin wrote saying that Simmons had built his first light board in the 25 pound range. “He had never built anything like this before and that was late 1949,” wrote Nat Young in his history of surfing. “Simmons had had fibreglass and resins for three years but did not choose to use these materials for their lightness but only as protection around the nose of his redwood boards.”76

Bob Simmons, like Tom Blake before him, had begun thinking that heavier boards would work better, but like Blake, he later spent much of his design and development time aimed at lightening his boards.

The first Simmons-made Sandwich Boards were simply sealed plywood over a styrofoam core. Later, he added light and shapable balsa rails to streamline the shape.77

“The lifeguards, unfortunately, never would buy them, but the surfers – Simmons’ followers – thought they were neat and started buying them,” recalled Quigg.78



Santa Monica Shop


To satisfy demand, Simmons set up a surf shop in Santa Monica. “In those first days,” said Quigg, “Simmons would glue the plywood, styrofoam and balsa parts together, then Matt (Kivlin) would shape the balsa rails and glass them over.”79 Simmons’ new board-building business became too big for he and Kivlin to handle alone, so they asked Quigg to return from Hawaii to give them a hand. Quigg came back and, while Simmons maintained his original Santa Monica shop, Quigg and Kivlin organized a separate glassing and finishing shop to support Simmons’ operation. “Matt and I rented a shop space up the same road from Simmons’ shop,” said Quigg, “and it was there that we did all the finishing work. At that time, Simmons had lots of orders. We did maybe a hundred boards.”80

Greg Noll tells a little story of this period. “One day, I ditched school and talked Simmons into taking me with him to Salt Creek. He didn’t like kids any more than he liked adults, but I also rode one of his boards, so he tolerated me. He’d go through long periods of silence, then he’d start quizzing me. ‘Why are you going to school? What are you going to do with your education? Why don’t you get out and do something with your life?’ He was provocative and he was smart. A real individual.”81

“Simmons’ boards were in such demand that the pressure of meeting orders almost became too much for him,” continued Noll. “Like most of us, he really just wanted to surf. I remember once, he had something like thirty-four boards on back-order. Velzy and I both had had a Simmons board on back-order for three months. Simmons wouldn’t answer his phone, so Velzy decided that we would check out the situation in person.

“Going to Simmons’ shop was... as much an experience as riding one of his boards. The shop was on a side street in Venice Beach. It was an absolute goddamn mess. He never cleaned up the balsa-wood shavings, so you’d have to make a path through the shavings and other debris to get from one place in the shop to another.

“Velzy and I arrived there about five o’clock one afternoon. The place looked all shut down. We pounded on the door. No reply. Velzy noticed that the door wasn’t locked, so he opened it and called, ‘Simmons?’

“No reply. We walked in cautiously through the shavings, calling, ‘Simmons, where are you?’ Finally, we heard a gruff voice from a corner: ‘Whaddaya want.’ We followed the voice and found Simmons sitting in the corner in shadow. He was eating beans out of a can, using a big balsa-wood shaving for a spoon.

“Simmons was eccentric. When he’d worn holes through the soles of his shoes, he’d cut a piece of plywood and tape it onto his shoe. With his perpetually uncombed hair, skinny physique and gimpy arm, he truly looked like a mad scientist.

“He didn’t like many people, but he liked Velzy better than most because Velzy rode Simmons’ boards and he rode them well. Besides that, he just liked Velzy.”82

“When I first met Simmons at Malibu,” between 1946 and 1948, Walter Hoffman recalled, “I didn’t realize he wouldn’t make you a board unless he liked you... or he’d make you wait a year or two... if ever.”83

“Simmons’ stuff was not good craftsmanship; not pretty to look at; not well done,” Rennie Yater recollected. “You might say ‘crude.’ But, his ideas – he just kept going! He wouldn’t be afraid to try something, build it and two days later be out there riding it just to find out, himself, how it worked...”84

“If you really wanted one of his boards,” wrote Nat Young, “you had to pay for it up front and sometimes you had to wait for a year to get a new Simmons ‘spoon.’”85The Simmons “Spoon” was a 10-foot solid male balsa board with a full belly, kicked up nose, thin rails and a glassed and foiled wooden fin.86 It’s probable that Simmons developed the balsa Spoon for larger breaks like Ventura Overhead and La Jolla’s Bird Rock due to its relatively pointed nose.87

Rennie Yater noted that, “His spoon nose, you know – it’s been copied ever since. It just made surfboards, instead of being straight, with a little curve to them; quite a bit more curve to them. They didn’t get essentially that way right away. He did, like I say, very extreme things.”

I asked Rennie if this was the beginning of rocker in surfboards. “Well, you might call it that,” agreed Yater, “because the planks didn’t have any rocker. They were dead flat.

“Simmons’ boards were really wide in the tail. He wanted to get up and go! With concave bottoms and all those things he put back there, they did go. They went fast, straight across the wave. But, boy, the wide tail would push the nose down because the tail would ride so well. The scoop of the nose, concave bottom and wide tail – it all worked. The boards had their problems, but the concept itself worked.”88

Simmons did not go for ultra light weight. He believed it was necessary to have a degree of weight in the boards for lift. “Even his ‘sandwich’ board, as it was called,” wrote Nat Young, “– it had a light styrofoam core with thin plywood on the deck and bottom, plus balsa rails, and was covered with glass – was heavier than the balsa boards that his glassers Matt Kivlin and Joe Quigg” would soon be making.89

Weight is important,” underscored Elwell, “and ultra light is dangerous. The principle of lift relies on pressure and proper aspect ratio.”90



Simmons/Quigg/Kivlin Rift


Suddenly, in the midst of all the exciting surfboard experimentation and innovation, Simmons had a falling out with his workers, Joe Quigg and Matt Kivlin.

John Elwell put it bluntly: “Quigg and Kivlin were Simmons’ glassers and he kicked them out of the shop when they started to copy the technology.” According to Elwell, both [Bev] Morgan and Peter Cole said that Quigg and Simmons hated each other.91

Simmons and Quigg had gotten into it just the year before. “Simmons was a point rider and had the board to take off sooner with more speed,” Elwell explained. “As the story goes, Simmons asked for the right of way and Joe scoffed at him. Next time Simmons ran him over with his fiber glass board and a fight ensued in the water, with Quigg dunking Simmons, which continued on the beach. Quigg threatened Simmons that if he did it again he would beat the shit of him. Simmons spit in his face.”92

It’s probable that the personality conflicts between Bob Simmons and Joe Quigg had more to do with the partnership breakup than Quigg and Kivlin’s use of fiberglass and copying Simmons’ plan shapes. After all, the “Darrylin Board,” Quigg’s first copy of a Simmons had taken place two years before, in the summer of 1947, before Quigg had left for the islands.93



Norwalk / Imperial Beach


Calling it quits in Santa Monica, Simmons moved his surfboard operation out to the family’s Norwalk ranch for privacy, seclusion, research and development. He now surfed mostly in the San Diego area and it was during this time that he made the best and last of a series of boards.94

Simmons prototyped double-slotted boards to improve paddling. Some very short ones appeared from 6-to-8 feet. He experimented with different tail dimensions, but all his stock models were quite different than his personal boards. His own boards always had dual shallow fins and harder 60/40 rails, all the way down to 80/20.95

“There was a huge vacuum left when Simmons quit producing boards,” wrote John Elwell. Modified copies of Simmons boards started showing up in the Summer of 1950. “They are easy to make,” Simmons said, as recalled by Elwell. “Changing the nose and tails somewhat don’t make that much difference. The nose sticks out of the water when we surf. I’d hate to get stabbed by a pointed one! If the tail is less than ten inches, it’s a paddle board! My noses are much more functional and stronger.” The most common feature to be seen in the modified boards, including the paddle board types, was a Simmons-type hydrofoiled rail.96

“In San Diego,” wrote Elwell of the turn in Simmons’ life, “a stream of people came down from LA and begged him for boards, as did San Diego locals. He politely refused and only made a handful of boards for a selected few. He surfed all the time at his favorite spots – the Tijuana Sloughs and Windansea. He was a busy man, finishing his math degree at San Diego State, playing championship ping-pong and going to the horse races. Simmons had devised a scheme of probability of mathematical odds, pooled family money, played the horses, did very well and took a cut. He had money, got out of all the dust, resin and hassle of surfboard making and had more time to surf and do the things he liked.”97

“He charged $15 for shaping,” Elwell remembered, “which was a great salary back then for several hours of work. I had two of his boards and finished shaping quite a few others with his supervision. My last board by him, he refused to take the $15, and said, ‘You... are... a... lifeguard.’ He liked lifeguards and many of them were friends. He admired Tom Blake and George Freeth.”98

Simmons slipped into a legendary status, while still alive, when he withdrew from the whole surfboard production scene. His move down south marked the beginning of the end of what some have called the “Simmons Era.”99

Rennie Yater recalled, “Simmons went on down to live in Imperial Beach. People kind of forgot about him after he left the Malibu testing grounds. Surfboard evolution went on, but surfboards weren’t as radical. They were pretty conservative; with natural rocker, the way balsa wood came; with about an inch of deck rocker, with very little heavy rocker in the bottom of the board. That went on for a long time, into the Velzy era and Hobie era; didn’t change much at all ‘till foam came around. Then, you weren’t restricted by the dimensions of balsa wood. Even the balsa wood boards didn’t have much rocker, except for the ones in Hawaii, where they started to put kick in the nose because of the big waves.”100

By 1950, Bob Simmons may have been out-of-sight in terms of commercial surfboard making, but he was seen regularly at his favorite spots and remembered by many.

“Simmons was a loner,” wrote Greg Noll. “He had a habit of going off by himself to surf. He hated any type of crowd. He liked Salt Creek, below Laguna Beach. It wasn’t unusual to go there and find Simmons, by himself. Or someplace else, like Tijuana Sloughs. Places that the usual surfing crowd didn’t go...”101

Jim “Burrhead” Drever said: “I used to say to Bob Simmons, ‘You’re making a big mistake up here [probably San Onofre or Palos Verdes]. You should go down to the Sloughs – they’re bigger waves.’ He would never believe me. Finally he went down there and he met Dempsey [Holder, the main man at the Sloughs] and he hung out down there.”102

Chuck Quinn recalled Simmons surfing the Sloughs as early as December of ‘49:

“During Christmas vacation, 1949,” Quinn said, “I met Dempsey on the beach near the river mouth. He invited me to go surfing with him. A group of guys were coming down from Windansea and San Onofre. The next morning we met at the lifeguard station. As we were gathering, Dempsey said a guy had come down there the day before and had a light board tied to the roof of his car. Dempsey said, ‘I told him about the Sloughs and he drove on down.’

“We got down there in Dempsey’s Sloughmobile and saw a ‘37 Ford103 with the back windows painted out, a board rack screwed to the top, with some quarter inch ropes tied to it. The board was gone and we figured whoever it was, was already out there. It was big that day. Low tide, north swell, and of course, from shore we couldn’t see it.

“I’d never experienced anything as tough as that shore break. So Dempsey said to me, ‘Stick with me and I’ll tell you when we’ll time it and then we’ll go.’ I barely got through that last wave of set shore break.

“It seemed like we were paddling out for half an hour and there was still no sign of anybody. We got out and Dempsey says, ‘Geez, I’m looking for that buoy. I don’t know where it is.’ Dempsey had put a big buoy on an old engine block to mark the lineup. Eventually we got out to where Dempsey says, ‘The buoy is gone. The surf must have carried it away. Maybe I didn’t get it out far enough.’

“We’re waiting out there, when all of a sudden we realized there was a huge set coming, and it was way outside from where we were. Dempsey tells us, ‘Paddle out, paddle out.’ We all started paddling furiously. I had never been in waves that big. These waves were just huge. We got over a couple of waves, but right away half the other guys lost their boards before we even rode any waves.

“We were struggling, and I was holding on to my board. It’s a wonder it didn’t have hands marks on it. I was really scared and was in a situation that I had never even imagined. As we pushed through the next to last wave, here came this one lone rider on a huge wave. He was riding steeper and closer to the break then anything we ever imagined.

“After the set we kind of regrouped and we’re waiting for the next big set, when this guy comes out and paddles right through our group. Right into it. No one said anything. It was just quiet. We had heard about Simmons boards. There was a guy at Malibu that was making light boards out of balsa wood. So I said to him, ‘Say, is that a Simmons board?’ He looked at me and he said, ‘My name is Simmons and this is my latest machine.’ And I remember when I turned my board I bumped his board. I was just a kid and I apologized. He just kept paddling.”104

“Simmons used to show up at Windansea,” recalled John Blankenship, “and tell everyone, ‘If you guys had any guts you’d be out with us at the Sloughs.’”105

Dempsey Holder remembered a time when Simmons and Buzzy Trent surfed the Sloughs and some killer whales cruised by. “Bob Simmons drove all the way down and he brought Buzzy Trent. So I went out. We got on the outside, sat out there a little bit, and a wave came along. Trent caught it and rode through the backoff area and then got his lunch somewhere in the shore break. His board ended up on the beach and he ended up swimming in.

“Simmons and I sat there talking, not really expecting anything. Well, we’re sitting there, I’m looking south, and two big fins come up – one big one and one not so big. They were killer whales and were about fifty yards from me. Scared me so bad I didn’t say anything to Simmons; he hadn’t seen them. I didn’t want to make any noise at all.

“I’m sitting there on my board. I’m not sure if Simmons saw anything until they went underneath us. Before I could do anything, the little boils come up around us. I remember my board rocking just a little bit. I looked straight down at the bottom – one of them passed directly beneath my board. We were only in 15 feet of water. I just saw parts of it. The white spots appeared, moving pretty slowly. Boils come up around. Simmons looked around and saw something. I remember him being profane – he was really excited about the size of these things. I wanted him to shut up. I hadn’t said anything. I’m still alive. I could see that big dorsal fin. Then the boil disappeared.

“I was still alive and I began to swivel my head around. I could see them fifty yards away or so, going straight out to sea. We relaxed a little bit. A little later Trent came back out and we told him what had come by there. He turned right around and went back in. Then Simmons and I looked at each other and went in.”106

Leslie Williams, who was one of the very best of the Malibu surfers of that period, vividly recalled Simmons at Sunset Cliffs, January 1951: “Bob was gutsy and demonstrated that to Buzzy and I the morning after the ‘North Bird’ incident.107 We had stayed the night at Dempsey Holder’s Imperial Beach Lifeguard facility and the next morning went to the Tijuana Sloughs, which was still 12’+ but with a seven foot high tide so the outside breaks were not doing it. Buzzy and I piled into Bob’s ‘39 coupe and we went to Sunset Cliffs. Garbage was 10-12’ or so but the only trail down to the water was in constant surge to a depth of 2-3’ over the tiny cove beach.

“Bob told Buzzy and I to go down the trail as far as we could and he would drop the boards to us. Buzzy and I swam out and Bob pitched our boards to us over the 8’ cliff at the bottom of the trail. We retrieved our boards and Bob dropped his off, which we recovered, before he jumped off the cliff, which he did in a modified cannonball with legs out-stretched. He thought he was jumping into 6’ of water (he normally would have been), but he landed on a solitary rock about 4’ under the water. He suffered a sore okole and was a little chagrined.

“Remember we went out there at Bob’s insistence at a super high tide and without wool suits (the wetsuits of that period). We surfed for 2 1/2 hours until the tide went down enough for us to scale the slippery trail.

“As usual, Bob was the gutsy one in respect to his inability to swim strongly with his bad arm. In truth, the rights that day were slow even though they did occasionally close to ‘Subs.’ None of us had much experience with Sunset Cliffs at that size but we followed Simmons’ lead. In contrast to what happened in later years in the Islands, Bob’s board worked well in the thicker waves that day. This was in the pre-slot board days but he had a thin twin-fin concave, which was to be one of his favorites.”108

Craig Stecyk wrote of a time in October 1951: “Simmons’ window blacked-out ‘37 Ford sits parked on the Coast Highway, apparently vacant. The sheriff repeatedly knocks upon the window attempting to determine if there are any inhabitants inside. Later, Matt Kivlin and Dave Rochlen arrive and attempt to rouse Simmons, also with no luck. Still later, another group vainly tries to get Bob to come out of his car. Eventually Simmons emerges from his car eating cling peaches out of a can using his fingers rather than utensils. No explanation is offered, a man has to have his privacy.”109

Billy Meng told a story to Dewey Schurman about the days before the ’37 Ford, when “Bob Simmons had an old hearse he lived in. Boarded the windows. Goddamn, you could still smell the flowers in it. And he was sleeping in it. He was up and down the coast, and you’d never see him. Whenever we’d get to the [Ventura] Overhead, somebody would say, ‘Simmons has been here.’ There’d be a stack of orange peels, like he was checking the surf. Then we’d zip up to Rincon, and there would be another stack. That’s all he ate, oranges. And he’d be surfing somewhere else. He had all the weather charts out in those days. He was the first guy to figure out the weather and surf, and he’d be the first guy there.”110



To Oahu, 1953


Although he went once and relatively briefly, Bob Simmons was one of the number of California surfers who comprised what could be considered “the Fifth Wave” of Californians going to O‘ahu to live and surf. Simmons stayed at Makaha and the North Shore in 1953-54.111

“I was in Hawaii in [early] 1953 when I passed through on a submarine on a secret espionage trip in the Siberian Straits,” related John Elwell. “Walt Hoffman was there and an old surfing acquaintance. They had just surfed big Makaha. He told me to tell Simmons to get over there right away. I passed the word. When I got back Simmons was gone to Hawaii by the early fall and returned in January of ‘54. He had charts of the north shore, his bicycle, boomerangs, board and other things. We know he had aerial photographs of Sunset Beach taken by the Army Air Corp in a book by Dr. Walter Munk, the world’s foremost oceanographer and classmate of Simmons at Caltech. He told Walt and those there, which were just a hand full, where to expect the best waves.”112

Leslie Williams, who came over with Simmons, recalled: “We got off a cargo boat with boards and single speed bike, middle of October, ‘53. Bob started circumnavigation of Oahu by bike the next day.

“We stayed at Buzzy Trent’s hut at Makaha, south of Dok’s, early November.

“After Buzzy and I returned from town early November ‘53 (and left Simmons at Makaha for six hours), Bob literally railed at us about the fact that Makaha had been 20’ while we were gone (when we got back it was still 8-12’ as it had been in the morning when we left for town). He said check with Dok’s wife about what she saw – she always was the recipient of many calls from town regarding Makaha surf status. Bob was really upset that we didn’t believe him – maybe an unintentional turnabout was fair play? He used to confront us with this ‘Simmons constant,’ which was, ‘Surf size (to him) = reported size ÷ 2 + 2.’ His infamous divide by two and add two.’

“In mid-November on a Sunday, George Downing suggested we haoles join him and go to the North Shore for bigger surf (at this time Makaha was 6-8’). In that era the only two people riding the North Shore was George and Henry Preece. We put our boards in George’s wagon. He took Buzzy, and Bob and I joined Woody Brown in his Henry J. Because George and Woody had military passes we were able to take the Kolekole Pass to Schofield Barracks and the road to the North Shore. As we dropped down towards the North Shore (fringed with white water!), Woody started his story about his ‘experience’ in 1943. Woody continued his story until the cars arrived at Sunset Beach. Of course, at the time there was no one out and no cars parked there when we arrived.”113

“To us,” Leslie Williams continued, “Sunset looked like a perfect Ventura Overhead at 12’ with medium offshores. Since Bob, Buzzy and I were experienced with ‘Big Overhead’ we paddled out to join George. Woody stayed on the beach consistent with the results of his 1943 ‘experience’ story. Direction of the swell was perfect and the peak did not shift sidewise as it came in. Simmons was using his big ‘slot board’ with rope deck handles. Early in the go-out Bob and I took off on a challenging peak with Bob on my inside. For only the second time in my life I saw Bob pull back on a wave! Could this have been a reaction to Woody’s earlier story to us? The only previous time I had seen Bob pull back on a wave without taking the drop was at 12-15’ North Bird Rock, in January ‘51 (with Buzzy and I).114

“Simmons was a gutsy rider but I suspect he had problems with his wide-tailed boards (up to 17” in the Hawaiian chop and ‘pitch-up’ waves). He never complained but had a hard time dropping with that wide tail. After all, his wide tailed boards were a compensation for his inability to paddle normally with his ‘fixed elbow’ left arm. In that era most bigger waves were ridden in a ‘controlled drop’ manner and only myself, and later Phil Edwards, tried to throw a maneuver on the face of the wave.”115

At Banzai Beach, noted John Elwell, “Buzzy Trent refused to go out with him. Flippy Hoffman elected to try body surfing... Bob told me he surfed Banzai [Pipeline] and he said, ‘It had real possibilities.’ That was the first place I headed for because of his recommendation and I did surf it a couple of times until I spun out and slammed my ribs on my board in ‘57-‘58. The overall feelings then especially by Fred Van Dyke [was] that it was insane... The collapsing blow on the last part of the wave was captivating. The speed and clearness of the water, with the power was just as Simmons said. I think it was five years later that Phil Edwards surfed it. Bruce Brown and Phil did not know that Simmons and I were there before that.

“I surfed it because I trusted Simmons judgment implicitly,” continued Elwell. “He was never wrong, never exaggerated, and never lost an argument. He had the facts and never tried to impress anyone. He did offend some of the poseur surfers. I listened to him like Peter Cole. We did not understand him completely, and it took some digging and research to decipher what he was trying to tell us. He was a dynamic character and surfer. He knew that we could not understand hydrodynamics and wave science. These subjects all take advanced calculus. Peter Cole could understand him because Simmons tutored him on calculus and [Cole] later majored in mathematics at Stanford. Peter later wrote a paper on wave dynamics and used Simmons calculations and said they were the best he ever encountered. Which means Simmons took it a step higher than Scripps and Munk.”116

“Simmons in general never mixed with Calfornia surfers or Hawaiians,” wrote Elwell of Simmons’ time on O‘ahu, “only those who surfed in big waves and were all around water men. We do know George Downing thought highly of him. George had met him at Malibu and Bob repaired his damaged board with fiber glass on an earlier visit. There were no locals surfing the North Shore when we were there. Later, Henry Priest showed up. Simmons surfed Makaha and called those guys ‘Shoulder hugging chickens!’ They were riding the shoulder of the bowl. The Duke confirmed that. This new group prodded by Simmons started to ride the point. That was the first year Makaha photographs came out in medium surf of Bob, Flippy, and Woody Brown riding the point. George Downing was there too and commented on how fast Simmons was going.117

With Simmons were his maps he had meticulously studied prior to coming over from the mainland. 

“He had researched from ship captains’ log books all the interesting reefs in Hawaii,” wrote Fred Van Dyke who would, a couple of years later, come out from Santa Cruz, California to make Hawaii his home and big wave riding his specialty. “Using this information, he arrived in Honolulu and went out to Sunset Beach. It was exactly as he had surmised from the charts.

“There were primarily three major reefs: an inner wall lineup, a middle, and outside peak break. Simmons had figured that Sunset would have a closeout condition at between 15 and 20 feet. He also had noticed on his charts some deep holes and fissures in the reef which would support deep water (providing safety) if paddled to in the closeout sets.

“Try to imagine that Simmons figured all of this out from library research without ever having seen the island reefs!

“Soon after I arrived in the islands and surfed Sunset Beach, my life was saved on a closeout 30-foot day because I found one of those deep holes Simmons had described and I sat out, in safety, huge waves breaking everywhere – except in that hole.”118



The Death of Simmons


The picture of Imperial Beach surfer Tom Carlin standing behind Simmons’ rusted out ’37 Ford Tudor, taken in La Jolla, January 9, 1954, is well known, but hides more than it reveals. You can spot the back windows painted out, which was a Simmons trademark. But what you can’t see is what’s inside: the back plywood deck with just a sleeping bag thrown over it. Located elsewhere inside were hydrographic charts, cans of soy beans and boomerangs. Carlin was checking out the day’s 20’ storm surf. Tijuana Sloughs was closed out. Simmons couldn’t get out there on his double-slotted, all balsa 11’ concave twin fin with rope handles which is clearly visible on top the Tudor. So, he went to La Jolla. Another thing the photo doesn’t show is that Simmons studied the La Jolla surf break all across the outer kelp beds that day. During a lull, he dashed in. Witnesses -- probably Carlin among them -- said that half way out a big set hit. Simmons attempted to roll through, holding on to his rope handles. He disappeared under a massive wall of soup and ended up under his board, on the beach, still hanging on.119



“The ‘37 Ford had a V8, 60 HP engine,” John Elwell wrote. “Simmons had gutted it except for a driver’s seat. He had a wooden milk box for passengers to sit on. The passenger side, all the way back into the rear, had a ply wood deck. He liked sleeping on floors and never a mattress. He carried a boy scout sleeping bag, cans of soy beans and fruits for food. He had a place to carry hydrographic charts of the coast and the world, to locate surfing reefs. He also had bags of fresh fruit that were in season [that] he got free from trees from friends and his Aunt and Uncle in Norwalk. The top of his car, he had cut and padded two-by-fours that were bolted on his roof for a surfboard rack. His bathing suit, as you see, is hung on the front left bumper to dry. It was a surplus wool Navy tank suit with moth holes eaten in it. Inside on the dash, in the ash tray, he had a string of papered wooden ice cream spoons he got free from stores and would discard after using. He ate out of cans on the road. He used to top off a meal with a pint of sherbert ice cream.

“He always wore the same clothes until they wore out. He bathed when he surfed, but the strong body odor was evident to everyone. His wool jacket glistened with fiber glass and embedded with balsa dust. He was a practical man, a true Scot who saved on money and time. Thrift and a warrior spirit was his mode. As Matt Kivlin recalled, ‘He was tough!’ His cousin Rick Hilts said, ‘His lifestyle was spartan!’

“He loved women, especially his mother and sisters. He did not have the time or would take the extra time to groom himself for courting a woman. He was so busy surfing, making boards, playing ping pong, researching waves, throwing and making boomerangs, that social life was the farthest thing from his mind. Only a rare woman would have adjusted to his brilliant mind and life style. He was a very simple but complicated individual. A true loner dedicated to his passions. He was observed reading porn mags which he enjoyed. As far as sex, it was all vicarious to him. He had no girl friends or ever married. He slept with his surfboards, boomerangs, tools, and ping pong paddles... his toys.

“His remark to one of his buddies was, ‘When a friend of mine gets married, he doesn’t surf anymore!’ A keen observation and lesson to Bob Simmons. His last obsession was a computer, which was room size, in 1954, at Leiberscope – an aero space lab where he worked at the time of his death. He was totally stoked, doing complicated mathematical computations in split seconds. At this time, the general public did not know computers existed. We all wondered if he was doing some personal things on surfing and hydrodynamics. The lab was doing a study of octangular waves off torpedoes.”120

One might get the impression Simmons was all seriousness. Not true. He knew how to have fun, especially when it was at a friend’s expense. Bev Morgan recalled one particular trip to La Jolla in Simmons’ Ford:

“A rock wall curves gracefully down with the road (to La Jolla's Windansea beach). As we entered the top of the drop-off, Simmons let go with a high pitched cackling laugh. We were accelerating down the curve at 60 or 70 m.p.h.

“Sure enough, he lost it. It scraped into the rock wall with a loud grinding noise. A shower of sparks was flying aft, lighting the eerie scene while Simmons cackled at his cleverness in scaring the crap out of me. Simmons had practiced this before.”121

On September 26, 1954, Robert Wilson Simmons, age 35 – the “Father of the Modern Surfboard”122– died while surfing Windansea. How he died exactly, is only speculation. One of the guys hanging out with Simmons that day says other surfers on the beach last remember him diving underwater to avoid a collision with one of the riders.123

Bev Morgan was there that day and told Dewey Schurman: “It was another one of those deals with Simmons banging on my door at three in the morning. My wife just put a foot in the middle of my back and shoved me out of bed. ‘Go, you bastard,’ she said.

“We headed south. We parked somewhere and sacked out. In those days, you just pulled over anywhere you wanted and threw out your sleeping bag. Simmons always slept in his car. He had his 37 Ford; all the windows [in the back] painted out. So we went to La Jolla. Windansea was about 10 feet. I watched him get a few, and then he got wiped out. I watched him go in and get his board a couple of times. I didn’t lose my board too much in those days.

“Finally, I got a little hungry for lunch and went in. His board was sitting up against the shack. So I stacked mine up there and went to the car to get some lunch. He usually had a sack of oranges. Everybody had been talking about Bird Rock, and I figured he’d gone down with some guys to check it out. An hour or so went by and I started to get a little concerned. So I started asking everybody. And one of the guys had seen him dive under a wave as three or four guys went across the face. And we figured he maybe got hit by a fin. With the surf that big, what are you doing to do but wait and look? And he never did show up. We figured he got hit by a board, but when they found the body a couple of days later, he’d been banging around the reefs for a couple of days, and they couldn’t tell what had happened. And that was the end of that.”124

When Simmons’ body was found three days later, it was at the foot of Bonair Street at the north end of Windansea. “Ironically,” wrote Leonard Lueras, “that spot is now the favored hangout of La Jolla area surfers and the site of Windansea’s famed Polynesian thatch hut and ‘surfer’s parking lot.’”125 The break is known as Simmons Reef.126

“I can’t tell you how much I think about Simmons,” Rennie Yater told me. “I really admired what he did. You know, his approach to what he did. ‘I’m just gonna make what I wanna make.’ Just try something different all the time. He didn’t care if guys came around. He was annoyed by people coming around, wanting his boards. He only sold ‘em cuz he had to make some money.”127

“Simmons was indeed a rare, rare man,” declared Dave Rochlen. “Here was a guy who believed pretty radically in something. He had a certain kind of integrity. His behavior never changed. He had a better mind than any of us guys. Above all, he was a better man than almost any man on the beach.”128

“I was there and saw it all,” testified Bev Morgan, who began his surfing career in the late 1940s. “Simmons was the one. It was a brilliant combination of technology and genius. It was a quantum leap from the old Pacific Homes planks and Tom Blake paddle boards.”129

“Simmons had a profound effect on everything that came after him in surfing,” declared Steve Pezman, publisher of The Surfer's Journal.130

“Simmons was like a missionary who traveled the coast promoting his ideas,” said Joe Quigg. “He was a catalyst for all of us... Matt and I both built boards with Simmons and occasionally he’d get upset over how we did things or the personal boards we’d build. My concepts deviated from Bob’s so much that there was a time when he quit speaking to me. If we did anything, we helped evolve a board that worked all around. The Malibu boards weren’t San Onofre boards nor were they planks or hot curls. One thing is certain, after we pulled in the tails, got the weight down and the fins right, no one ever built monolithic planks again.”131

In appreciating what Bob Simmons did for surfing, his friend and biographer John Elwell cautioned: 

It is popular to think materials are important in the change in surfboards” but it is the form of the materials, designed and engineered correctly, that makes for successful surfboard architecture. “Yes, Simmons defined what a surfboard was and how it works... He was the first to describe the trajectory of a surfboard in a wave by telling us: ‘We are really surfing almost as fast sideways as forward.’ Thus, the surfboard -- really a plate -- must be designed to also surf side ways.

“He also defined fins or skegs as directional stabilizers and not rudders, as were so popularly thought. Simmons also successfully introduced small dual fins... the first foam core, veneer laminated board... and the first foam mold... years before [Dave] Sweet and Hobie [Alter].”132

When polyurethane foam replaced wood cores in surfboards later on in the 1950s, Alter mass-produced his boards to become a millionaire. “When I made my first board,” he said in a phone interview, “I copied a Simmons.”133

“The last time I saw him, it wasn't too long before he died,” Alter recalled. “He said, ‘Take me to Windansea.’ Simmons would hitchhike with his surfboard sometimes. I said I got to go to work. He said I was no surfboard maker, and what kind of surfer was I, working when the surf was up.”134

 Simmons at Malibu, photo courtesy of Bob Prosser


The Simmons Board by John Elwell


In John Elwell’s study on the contributions Bob Simmons made to surfing, published in a 1994 edition of The Surfer’s Journal, he wrote an analysis of the Simmons board. This analysis follows, in its entirety:

“The Simmons surfboard is as strange an apparition today as it was when it first appeared. In its time it broke all the rules of the day. It represents a shift from heavy displacement to light displacement along with the application of scientific theory. It was a radical departure, far ahead of its time, like the designer, and misunderstandings hindered its full acceptance. Bob Simmons disregarded criticism and just went surfing, which was his great love; his surfing proved the validity of his boards along with their use by a small cadre of followers.

“From what he said and the body of research he had in his possession, along with a visual appraisal, one can get an idea of what he was pursuing. He was an aerodynamicist [one who specialized in aerodynamics] and a mathematician. That viewpoint must be kept in mind.

“The boards had maximum width. Width was favored for the least resistance. Width plays a key role in delivering kinetic energy to the airfoil rail, the leading edge, that gives deflection. All planing hulls are deflectors. The airfoil is a special shape that is calculated. Width divided into length, is aspect ratio, giving a magic number related to lift. Width also allows the hull to leave a clean wake. An impressive example of the value of width is the bodyboard.

“The wide, unusually cambered, uplifted noses created a lot of criticism. The unknowing critics said they were pushing water, but they were in fact working, spreading the water, momentarily, to the high pressure rails before take off. In a tough spot, where the nose comes in contact with the water, in a steep takeoff or large chop, they lifted. Changing the noses was not a big deal to him, saying they stick out when we surf. He rejected points as too fragile and dangerous. Some of his early boards had points. Constant form, flat noses are perfectly acceptable in smooth water. Simmons opted for camber, because sea conditions can change rapidly due to weather changes.

“The outlines were fair parallelism, contiguous rails, fared-in near the tail for clean stable running. Non-uniform outline shapes were rejected, because of eddy flow resistance that increases with planing speed. This occurs at 10” in width. He is on record that trying to modify paddle board shapes into surfboards was wrong; destroying the wide tail reduced early lift and clean resistance wakes. Those forms pulled the rail away from the wave and required a single fin, partly corrected with a tri-fin today, which undoubtedly would have been rejected, because of increased appendage drag. Rocker was rejected for reasons made obvious by his theory. ‘Ya just don’t need it!’

“He rejected the notion that wide tails were the cause of ‘spin out,’ and considered it a fin problem. He moved a small fin to each outboard rail at the end and towed them in to 10º. This is because the water is moving the fastest at these points as it leaves the hull. A single centered fin is in the low pressure area of the board and away from the wave. He simply expressed, you need more fin at low speeds and less at high speeds. Simmons and his ‘test pilots’ never spun out with dual fins, surfing the biggest and hardest breaking surf. However, he warned that non-uniform hull shapes could ‘spin out.’ This is because uneven side pressures build up, inducing a possible sudden yaw. These shapes require a deeper fin, increasing appendage resistance as the board surfs forward and sideways. He noted with criticism that narrow tails, give a tubing, sucking wake. Anything that has eddy flow resistance, was a ‘disaster’ and ‘not the way to go!’

“The rail and fins had a ‘chord value’ percentage dimension, to allow a smooth release of water flow, allowing the least amount of cavitation. An illustration was contained in a text he had. He dismissed this with a cackle by saying, ‘Generally just lead round, end thin, and that is good enough.’ A true planing hull adjusts itself with speed, where it eventually works itself to a minimum in the aft inside section of a surfboard, unless as Simmons and others found out, it leaves the water in a launch and a skip. He dumped ultralight to keep the boards in the water. Due to the extreme thinness in the nose and tail, he recommended two coats of glass, and even a coat of marine fiberglass paint to protect the board from the destructive rays of the sun, ‘... if you want to keep it,’ He added, ‘the extra weight doesn’t make that much difference.’

“The center of gravity, was precisely placed on these boards. Load has to be forward of lift, a commonly known fact in aerodynamics and naval architecture. Most of his boards would balance on a sawhorse in the middle or slightly forward. The decks were domed smoothly into the rails, shedding water rapidly off the airfoil, this concept greatly reduced unneeded weight. A density calculation was done of materials to get an exact flotation for the weight of load, to barely support the rider. Some surfers, skeptical of this, asked for more flotation and he complied reluctantly.

“A very few of his boards had concave bottoms. Simmons said he did this to get air into them briefly, reducing the suction. The center of the hull has a low pressure flow down the center area anyway. He reduced it even more with a concave. But his concentration was focused on what was happening out on the rail.

“Simmons had piles of computations in advanced math. (All of these are apparently lost, along with test models.) His boards were a complex creation. His efforts were the result of a comprehensive scientific approach using experimentation and Newtonian mechanics. However, planing hulls suffer a penalty at low speed, struggling to get over the hump. Resistance points can be identified where water breaks away in small waves. Simmons attempted to solve this by flow slotting aft of the nose, and spoiler slots in the tail. Only a few boards had this feature. It was very difficult to do correctly. Each of these boards had to be surfed without glassing, with a tack coat of resin. This was applied ‘boomerang science;’ throw and adjust to desired performance. He was also checking the desired attack angle; the immersed, thin-wide tail had to be between 15-20º. This was the secret for quick and early lift for gaining position. Strategically, Simmons wanted to be in the wave first and as soon as possible, for the right-of-way, second he wanted speed, to cover distance for long rides. Big waves and long rides were his criteria for performance. Everything else was folly! He was successful at this. It was commonly said in his day, ‘No one has ever gone as fast on a surfboard!’ It was noted by contemporaries the he usually got the best rides.

“Length plays a role in speed, to a point. Appropriate length captures the maximum principle of resurgence, as water is pushed away, it rebounds and assists the hull. The only way a non-contiguous narrow shaped form can come close to a wide hull is to increase length, but it will never lose its lateral instability. He settled for a 10’6” for bigger surf and 8’ for quick, hard breaking inside breaks.”135




1 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Rennie Yater, March 24, 1994.
2 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 18 April 2016.
3 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 11 April 2016. Peter Cole quoted.
4 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 18 April 2016.
5 Elwell, John. “The Enigma of Simmons,” The Surfer’s Journal, Volume 3, Number 1, 1994, p. 32.
6 Elwell, 1994, p. 33. See also Elwell email to Malcolm, 18 April 2016.
7 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, August 11, 1999.
8 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, August 11, 1999.
9 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 18 April 2016.
10 Elwell, 1994, p. 33.
11 Elwell, 1994, p. 33. Simmons quoted from recollection. See also Elwell email to Malcolm, 18 April 2016.
12 Noll, 1989, pp. 2-3. Simmons quoted from recollection.
13 Noll, 1989, pp. 2-3.
14 Elwell, 1994, p. 34.
15 Elwell, 1994, p. 34. Goofy foot n. 1) Riding a surfboard with your right foot forward, left foot back; the opposite of a natural footer; 2) A left-handed surfer who rides with the right foot forward, left foot back.
16 Elwell, 1994, p. 34.
17 Romero, Dennis. “A Shadow on the Waves,” Los Angeles Times, 24 September 1994. http://articles.latimes.com/1994-09-26/news/ls-43253_1_bob-simmons
18 Elwell, 1994, p. 33. See also Elwell email to Malcolm, 18 April 2016.
19 Elwell, 1994, p. 34. See also Elwell email to Malcolm, 18 April 2016.
20 Elwell, 1994, p. 34. See also Elwell email to Malcolm, 18 April 2016.
21 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 18 April 2016.
22 Elwell, 1994, p. 35.
23 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 18 April 2016.
24 Lueras, Leonard. Surfing, The Ultimate Pleasure, designed by Fred Bechlen, ©1984, Workman Publishing, New York, p. 111. Dave Rochlen quoted.
25 Elwell, 1994, pp. 35-36. Simmons quoted.
26 Elwell, 1994, p. 36.
27 Young, 1983, p. 61. Young has this circa 1945, but it was probably earlier. Elwell does not specify that they were garage doors, simply saying that he constructed “doors, among other things,” p. 36.
28 Elwell, 1994, p. 36.
29 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Rennie Yater, March 24, 1994.
30 Young, 1983, p. 61.
31 Lueras, 1984, p. 111. Joe Quigg quoted.
32 Elwell, 1994, p. 36. See also email to Malcolm, 14 July 2016.
33 Elwell, 1994, p. 36.
34 Lueras, 1984, p. 111. Dave Rochlen quoted.
35 Elwell, 1994, p. 36.
36 Stecyk, Craig. The Surfer’s Journal, 1992, p. 58. See classic photo of Simmons and Kivlin, with boards racked on Simmons’ Model A flatbed, labelled 1949. Stecyk has the Simmons/Trent surfari as September 19, 1947, but this is contradictory, as Simmons totalled his flatbed in 1945, according to Elwell. Unless Simmons had a 1931 flatbed, then the 1937 Tudor and a Model A flatbed?
37 Elwell, 1994, p. 38. Pat O’Connor quoted.
38 Elwell, 1994, pp. 38-39.
39 Elwell, 1994, p. 35. Recalling what Simmons’ nephew Rick remembers of Simmons’ Spartan lifestyle.
40 Young, 1983, p. 61.
41 Elwell, 1994, p. 35. Elwell quoting Rick quoting the lifeguard.
42 Lueras, 1984, p. 111. Joe Quigg quoted.
43 Lueras, 1984, p. 111. Dave Rochlen quoted.
44 Lueras, 1983, p. 111. Either Rochlen or Quigg quoted; probably Rochlen.
45 Elwell, 1994, p. 39.
46 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 18 April 2016.
47 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 18 April 2016. Quoting Lindsey Lord.
48 http://www.physics4kids.com/files/motion_laws.html
49 http://hyperphysics.phy-astr.gsu.edu/hbase/fluids/airfoil.html
50 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 18 April 2016.
51 Elwell, 1994, p. 40. His nickname was “Towney.” See also Gault-Williams, “Woody Brown: Pilot, Surfer, Sailor,” The Surfer’s Journal, ©1996.
52 Elwell, 1994, p. 40.
53 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 18 April 2016.
54 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 14 July 2016.
55 Elwell, 1994, p. 39.
56 Young, 1983, p. 61. Young has the “scarfed nose lift” as Simmons’ “most significant contribution.”
57 Young, 1983, p. 61. This may not be entirely correct. Pete was the first that we know of, but there is at least one reliable account that Jamison Handy preceded him. See“Pete After The War” chapter in LEGENDARY SURFERS Volume 4: The 1940s.
58 Young, 1983, pp. 61 & 63.
59 Lueras, 1983, p. 111.
60 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 18 April 2016.
61 Elwell, 1994, p. 40.
62 Stecyk, Craig. The Surfer’s Journal, ©1992, Volume 1, Number 3, p. 37.
63 Lueras, 1983, p. 111.
64 Elwell, 1994, p. 40.
65 Elwell, 1994, pp. 42-43.
66 Elwell, 1994, p. 43.
67 Elwell, 1994, p. 43.
68 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Rennie Yater, March 24, 1994.
69 Elwell, 1994, p. 43.
70 Elwell email to Malcolm, 18 April 2016.
71 Lynch, 1995, p. 28. See also Elwell, 1994,p. 39.
72 Elwell, 1994, p. 39.
73 Lueras, 1984, p. 111. See also Stecyk, “Humaliwu, Curse of the Chumash Revisited,” The Surfer’s Journal, Volume 1, Number 3, Fall 1992.
74 Lueras, 1984, p. 111. Joe Quigg quoted.
75 Elwell, 1994, p. 43. Quoted caption to a veneer laminated Simmons styrofoam core with solid balsa rails, circa 1947-48.
76 Young, 1983, p. 63. Quigg & Kivlin went to Hawaii in 1947. Nat wrote that Simmons wrote Quigg, but that’s highly unlikely. It must have been Kivlin, as those two corresponded with one another.
77 Lueras, 1984, p. 113.
78 Lueras, 1984, p. 113. Joe Quigg quoted.
79 Lueras, 1984, p. 113. Joe Quigg quoted.
80 Lueras, 1984, p. 113. Joe Quigg quoted.
81 Noll, 1989, pp. 95-96.
82 Noll, 1989, pp. 94-95.
83 Hoffman, Walter. “Tales of Town and Country,” Walter Hoffman’s Scrapbook (The Early Years: 1948-1954, The Surfer’s Journal, Volume 2, Number 2, Summer 1993, p. 81. See photo of him and Simmons on the same wave at Malibu, 1948.
84 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Rennie Yater, March 24, 1994.
85 Young, 1983, p. 61.
86 Lueras, 1983, p. 113. Male balsa is heavier than female.
87 Elwell, 1994, p. 46. Caption to 10’6” Simmons Spoon, belonging to the collection of Surfer magazine. Possibly Steve Pezman’s comment.
88 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Rennie Yater, March 24, 1994.
89 Young, 1983, pp. 63 & 67.
90 Elwell email to Malcolm, 18 April 2016.
91 Elwell email to Malcolm, 18 April 2016.
92 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 14 July 2016. The 1948 was published in REEF magazine, date unknown.
93 see Gault-Williams, “The Malibu Board,” a chapter in the LEGENDARY SURFERS series, 1998-2003.
94 Elwell, 1994, p. 45.
95 Elwell, 1994, p. 45.
96 Elwell, 1994, p. 45. See also Elwell email to Malcolm, 15 July 2016. Bob Simmons quote recalled.
97 Elwell, 1994, p. 45.
98 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 15 July 2016.
99 Lueras, 1984, p. 114.
100 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Rennie Yater, March 24, 1994.
101 Noll, Greg. DA BULL: Life Over the Edge, by Greg Noll and Andrea Gabbard, North Atlantic Books, Berkeley, California, ©1989, p. 93.
102 Dedina, Serge. “Watermen: Tales of the Tijuana Sloughs,” Longboard Quarterly, Volume 2, Number 3, Oct./Nov. 1994, pp. 39-40. Jim “Burrhead” Drever quoted.
103 See photograph courtesy of John Elwell, taken from the collection of Bev Morgan, reprinted in The Surfer’s Journal, ©1992, Volume 1, Number 3, p. 50. Caption reads, in part: “a plywood wall closed off the rear. Note 10’6” twin fin slot board with roll handles.”
104 Dedina, 1994, p. 40. Chuck Quinn quoted.
105 Dedina, 1994, p. 40. John Blankenship quoted.
106 Dedina, 1994, pp. 40-41. Dempsey Holder quoted.
107 See Gault-Williams, “Bob Simmons (1919-1954).”
108 Hoffman, Walter. “Tales of Town and Country,” The Surfer’s Journal, Volume 2, Number 2, Summer 1993. Walter Hoffman’s Scrapbook (the early years 1948-1954), Leslie Williams, “bob simmons: hawaii/california retrospective,” pp. 46-47. The North Bird Rock incident was 1/51. The Sunset Cliffs session might not have been 1/51.
109 Stecyk, 1992, “Humaliwu,” p. 50.
110 Surfer, October 1993, “Bob Simmons Story No. 1,” told by Billy Ming to Dewey Schurman, p. 63. Meng misspelled “Ming.”
111 See previous chapter “O‘ahu After WWII” for the 3rd and 4th waves.
112 Elwell, John. Email to Gary Lynch, 5 January 2000.
113 Hoffman, 1993, p. 46. Leslie Williams, “bob Simmons: Hawaii/California retrospective.” Williams has “Priest” for Preece and 1945 instead of 1943 for the year Dickie Cross and Woody got into trouble at Sunset and Waimea.
114 Hoffman, 1993, Leslie Williams retrospective, p. 46. The year 1945 noted as incorrect. It was 1943.
115 Hoffman, 1993, Leslie Williams retrospective, pp. 46-47.
116 Elwell, John. Email to Gary Lynch, 5 January 2000.
117 Elwell, John. Email to Gary Lynch, 5 January 2000.
118 Van Dyke, 1989. Woody Brown also mentions about the deep holes at Sunset in retelling the story of the death of Dickie Cross. See Gault-Williams, “Woody Brown.”
119 Elwell, 1994, p. 42. Info based on a caption to the photograph, written by Elwell.
120 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, August 11, 1999. Photo caption for the 1937 Ford Tudor.
121 Romero, Dennis. “A Shadow on the Wave”, Los Angeles Times, 26 September 1994. http://articles.latimes.com/1994-09-26/news/ls-43253_1_bob-simmons
122 Gault-Williams, interview with Rennie Yater, March 1994.
123 Source unknown.
124 Surfer, October 1993. “Bob Simmons Story No. 2, Told by Bev Morgan to Dewey Schurman,” p. 63.
125 Lueras, 1984, p. 114.
126 Romero, Dennis. “A Shadow on the Wave”, Los Angeles Times, 26 September 1994. http://articles.latimes.com/1994-09-26/news/ls-43253_1_bob-simmons
127 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Rennie Yater, March 24, 1994.
128 Elwell, 1994, p. 49. Dave Rochlen quoted.
129 Elwell, 1994, p. 43. Bev Morgan quoted.
130 Romero, Dennis. “A Shadow on the Waves”, Los Angeles Times, 26 September 1994. Steve Pezman quoted. http://articles.latimes.com/1994-09-26/news/ls-43253_1_bob-simmons
131 Stecyk, Craig. “Perpetual Musings,” The Surfer’s Journal, Volume 5, Number 2, Summer 1996. Joe Quigg, circa 1995.
132 Elwell email to Malcolm, 11 June 2016.
133 Romero, Dennis. “A Shadow on the Waves”, Los Angeles Times, 26 September 1994. Hobie Alter quoted. http://articles.latimes.com/1994-09-26/news/ls-43253_1_bob-simmons
134 Romero, Dennis. “A Shadow on the Waves”, Los Angeles Times, 26 September 1994. Hobie Alter quoted. http://articles.latimes.com/1994-09-26/news/ls-43253_1_bob-simmons

135  Elwell, 1994, p. 41.

LEGENDARY SURFERS Newsletter

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The New LEGENDARY SURFERS Newsletter


After the incorporation of LEGENDARY SURFERS in with the Surfing Heritage & Cultural Center (SHACC), I ceased emailing my newsletter out to interested readers. The newsletter basically informed email recipients of new material added to the collection, updates and other relevant info I thought pertinent to the history of surfing.

If you would like to be emailed about new chapters added to the LEGENDARY SURFERS collection as well as other new material or changes to the history, this newsletter has been reborn! Please subscribe at: http://eepurl.com/cn8alz, which is the opt-in sign-up form for the new distribution list.
Looking forward to interacting with friends old and new!
-- Malcolm Gault-Williams

Women’s Big-Wave Surfing

Sandwich Island Girl, 1888

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In 2006, East Coast surf historian Skipper J. Funderberg discovered an illustration of a young woman surfing in New Jersey, dated 1888. It was a woodcut engraving that appeared on the cover of the National Police Gazette of 18 August 1888, with a description on page 14. The covers caption read: “A Gay Queen Of The Waves: Asbury Park, New Jersey, Surprised By The Daring Of A Sandwich Island Girl.” The image depicts a girl surfing Asbury Park shore break.1


Needless to say, the print caused much discussion among us writers of surfing’s history.2 The big question the image raised: was there really a brief instance of someone -- female or not -- surfing Asbury Park, New Jersey, in the summer of 1888? If so, that would put that location as the first spot known to have been board surfed on the East Coast of the United States.

The description that goes with the engraving reads:

“A group of summer loungers on the beach at Asbury Park, N.J., were watching the extraordinary antics of a dark eyed, bronze-faced girl in the sea a few mornings ago. The object of all this interest and solicitude was beyond the line of breakers and standing on a plank that rose and fell with the swelling waves. Her bathing dress was of some dark material, fitting close to the figure, the skirts reaching scarce to her knee. Her stockings were of amber hue, adorned with what from the shore seemed to be vines and roses in colored embroidery. She wore no hat or cap. Her hair, bound across the forehead and above the ears by a silver fillet, tumbled down upon her shoulders or streamed out upon the wind in black and shining profusion. Her tunic was quite sleeveless, and one could scarcely fail to observe the perfect development and grace of her arms. As a wave larger than those which had gone before slowly lifted the plank upon its swelling surface, she poised herself daintily upon the support, her round arms stretched out and her body swaying to and fro in harmony with the motion of the waters. As the wave reached its fullest volume she suddenly, quick as thought, and with a laugh that rang full into shore, drew herself together, sprang into the air, and, her hands clasped together and clearing her a way, plunged into the rolling sea. There was a little cry from timid feminine watchers on the sand, but the smiling face was above water again while they cried, and the daring Triton was up on the plank again in another moment and waiting for a second high roller. So she has been amusing herself and interesting the mob for three mornings. She is as completely at ease in the sea as you or I on land, and the broad plank obeys her slightest touch.”3

Skepticism was the order of the day for all of us taking a critical eye to the print, caption and accompanying text. Questions centered around: Who could this be? What does the image and text really tell us? Can the source be trusted? Are there any other references to this event?


Who Could This Be?

Because it was a purportedly brief period of three days, one critic brought up the idea that it might be part of a larger event taking place at that time. Perhaps she was a performer promoting the circus that was in town on Aug. 15: “Frank A. Robbins' Gigantic and Sensationally realistic wild west hippodrome, caravan, circus, menagerie, museum, aviary and aquarium.” Or maybe she was a circus performer just out for a morning swim?4

DeSoto Brown of Hawaii’s Bishop Museum pointed out that “if she’d been a performer, there would have been some sort of plug in the text for where she was currently appearing. And if she had been performing – and she really was from Hawaii – I think we would know about her already. The hula was still too immodest to perform on stage then, I would say, so I don’t know what such a person would have been doing had she been an entertainer.”5

Another thought that this might be Hawaiian princess Ka’iulani, traveling on her way to England. However, this was discounted as Ka’iulani did not leave Hawaii until the following year, on May 10, 1889.6


What does the image and text really tell us?

“Illustrations of surfers had already appeared in a number of publications by this time,” continued DeSoto Brown, “although the image was certainly not yet very well known. These would have been descriptive books about other lands, or would have been personal accounts of travel to Hawaii. Tourism [in the Hawaiian Islands] at this point was practically nonexistent. The earliest publication which is purely commercial, specifically printed to promote travel to Hawaii, probably appeared in this same year. (There are at least 3 different editions of it, with different copyright dates). This is a foldout brochure from the Oceanic Steamship Co, which has a number of illustrations, including a surfing scene. I doubt many people on the east coast would have seen it, however, since the Oceanic ships traveled only in the Pacific. My point is, even though surfing was not yet widely known in the late 1880s, pictures of it had been published and there was at least some awareness in the American public. Certainly this picture and accompanying article show this is true, since there is no detailed explanation of what surfing was, or how it was done. Thus the readers of the Police Gazette can be assumed to have already had some familiarity with the concept.”7

Australian Geoff Cater questioned both the text and the image, summarizing that “the text and the image do not clearly indicate wave riding; the text does not resemble any of the many other accounts of surfriding published in the 19th century; the image is likely to be constructed from previously published images” -- specifically, “the board is almost a direct copy of the one in Jacques Arago’s Wahine, Hawaii, circa 1819...the stance and the hand positions are possibly analgam from the riders in Wallis McKay ‘Surf-swimmers, circa 1874.’”8

Elaborating further, Geoff wrote: “A close reading [of numerous descriptions of surf riding in the 1800s] indicates that the writers go to considerable effort to convey to the reader the elementary characteristics of surf-riding. They invariably include details that include the board, paddling-out, wave selection, take-off, riding in various positions, wave sliding angle and wipe-outs. Detailed descriptions of the rider's attire are scarce (both the number of descriptions and the attire).”9

If the rider existed and the event took place as described, how did she surf with a dress, stockings and head band? And where did she get the board from?


Can the source be trusted?

Surfing biographer Craig Lockwood addressed the subject matter of the National Police Gazette, itself:

”... the Police Gazette, (there were several and were euphemistically referred to as "Gentleman's Periodicals")... Socially and culturally, the Police Gazette and its subsequent imitators were roughly the equivalent of a combined Ring Magazine-National Inquirer-Playboy-True Detective, typically in a tabloid or digest format. The subjects were those aimed at titillating a very sexually inhibited and repressed Victorian male audience, and it was a table-top staple of the neighborhood saloon, barbershop, and athletic club -- all bastions of the younger male middle-class and skilled tradesmen.”10

“Scantily clad -- well, by the mores of the times, scantily clad -- women were featured at every possible opportunity... As can be imagined by reading the pages of the Star or Inquirer today, the level of journalism found in these periodicals was inspired by a combination of rumor, innuendo, and extrapolative falsification, with as much emphasis on females in ‘unusual’ situations as possible.”11

Craig’s opinion was that to ascribe much validity to a magazine like the Police Gazette was giving it more credit than it deserved.12He added, however: “If memory serves me right, Robert Louis Stevenson visited and wrote about Hawaii and seeing surfing about this time. His adventures in the South Seas were widely published and commented upon during the late 1880s. I seem to recall that something about his travels -- letters or other correspondence -- were published in Harper's during the same period. It might prove interesting to do a little literary detective work, i.e., an analytic comparison between the Police Gazette’s piece’s details and those of R.L. Stevenson’s.”13

In “Sandwich Island Girl Hangs Five,” Skipper Funderberg went into greater detail about the National Police Gazette [NPG]:

“Richard Kyle Fox was the Editor and Proprietor of the NPG from 1877 until his death in 1922. Fox perfected the sports page and the gossip column, as well as the use of large illustrations to dramatize the stories in his paper. Before Fox, these things did not exist as we know them today. Fox turned a text heavy medium into something visually exciting. Even Thomas Edison was a regular reader. Irving Berlin wrote a song about it: ‘The Girl on The Police Gazette.’ Hugely popular, even across the ocean, the publication made an appearance in James Joyce’s masterpiece ‘Ulysses.’”14

“... news reporting in the 19th century was not like today. There was no television, no movies, and no radio. We take many details for granted in a typical news story that were not considered important back then. Getting the names of participants, attributing quotes, and other factual details were often not priorities. The NPG decided what its focus was and stuck to it. One focus was on women’s appearance and movements – anything that was sexually titillating for the time. Who she was and where she came from was of less importance.The NPG certainly was a publication that mixed fact with fiction.”15

“I have to continue to believe the NPG is describing a real event.”16

Writing about Asbury Park, itself, Skipper continued:

“Asbury Park, NJ, is located 55 miles south of New York City and 60 miles away from Philadelphia, PA. Founded in 1871, Asbury Park was considered a country by the sea destination; boasted a mile and a quarter beach; is one of about fifty-four seaside cities on the Jersey Shore; and nestled about halfway along the hundred mile stretch of coastline between Cape May, NJ, and Sandy Hook, NJ. More than a half million people a year vacationed in Asbury Park during the summer season, riding the railways from the New York City Metropolitan Area.”17

“At that time on the Jersey Shore, Asbury Park would have been a more religious and teetotaling clientèle than Cape May or Atlantic City. Founded in 1869, Ocean Grove, NJ, the seat of the Temperance Movement on the Jersey Shore, is the southern border of Asbury Park. A visionary Methodist clergyman, Reverend Ellwood H. Stokes, convinced his congregation to invest in three hundred acres and one mile of beach front. The community was known as the Queen of Religious Resorts, and enforced a multitude of strict rules, including no beach bathing on Sundays. This would have played into the hands of the NPG editors, who delighted in exposing hypocritical clergy and tended to scoff at religion and temperance in general. The NPG editors had great fun at the institution’s expense. In short, the NPG would have jumped at the chance to portray something extravagant or un-ladylike among the straight laced beach goers.”18


Are there any other references to this event?

A local newspaper reporter and surfer “bfrank” left a comment about his local research:

“I spent a full day this week poring over microfilm at the Asbury Park public library. I read every edition of both the Daily Journal and the Asbury Park Daily Press from July 1 to Aug. 18 of 1888 and there was no mention of the girl. If it happened, I doubt they would have missed it. These papers are full of every imaginable bit of gossip and snippets of beach and boardwalk life. There is a full story on a woman who went wading without a bathing suit on, many stories about police citing people form improper beach garb, etc. In fact, the police seemed so vigilant in stopping people from engaging in foolish behavior (like walking to the beach in your bathing suit instead of changing once you got to the beach) that I doubt the Sandwich Island girl would have gotten away with this for more than a few minutes. I suppose the papers could have missed it... Or perhaps, the Police Gazette simply made this up.”19

Undeterred, Skipper J. Funderberg continued his search for whether this event did happen or not and who “The Sandwich Island Girl” could be.

At the very beginning of this year [2017], he wrote me with some exciting news:

“I have recovered a Philadelphia Press Letter release published in three United States newspapers [Chicago Tribune, Chicago, Illinois, 2 August 1888, page 9; St. Louis Post Dispatch, main edition, St. Louis, Illinois, 4 August 1888, page 7; The Tennessean, Nashville, Tennessee, 5 August 1888, page 8]. They provide important additional information, not published in the National Police Gazette, August 18, 1888 article.”20

The new information is as follows:

"When she has had enough of it she will bring the plank into shore, she riding upon the further and gliding it like a goddess over the crests and through the foam of the biggest breakers. She comes from the Sandwich Islands and is making a tour of the country. Her father is an enormously rich planter. She arrived in the Park a week ago with the family of a wealthy New York importer. She is at a fashionable hotel and is one of the most charming dancers at the hotel hops, as well as the most daring swimmer on the Jersey coast. She is well educated and accomplished, and, of course, speaks English perfectly and with a swell British accent that is the despair of the dudes. She learned to be the mistress of the waves in her childhood at her native home by the sea, where she modestly says, all girls learn swimming as a matter of course, quite as much as girls in this country learn tennis or croquet.”21

So, apparently the event -- which looks increasingly like it did happen -- was not a fabrication of the National Police Gazette, but part of a released story from the Philadelphia Press Letter that was picked-up by three other newspapers in addition to the NPG.

It is Skipper’s hope that these additional details will not only help validate the event itself but also help lead to the identity of “The Sandwich Island Girl.”


Additional Details



1 National Police Gazette, 18 August 1888, p. 1.
2 “Sandwich Island Girl,” LEGENDARY SURFERS, 23 March 2006, http://files.legendarysurfers.com/blog/2006/03/sandwich-island-girl.html
3 National Police Gazette, 18 August 1888, p. 14.
4 LEGENDARY SURFERS, 21 July 2006. Comment by “bfrank.”
5 “Sandwich Island Girl 2,” LEGENDARY SURFERS, 22 April 2006 - http://files.legendarysurfers.com/blog/2006/04/sandwich-island-girl-2.html. DeSoto Brown quoted.
6 “The Ka’iulani Board,” LEGENDARY SURFERS, http://files.legendarysurfers.com/surf/legends/ls04_kaiulani.html.
7 “Sandwich Island Girl 2,” LEGENDARY SURFERS, 22 April 2006 - http://files.legendarysurfers.com/blog/2006/04/sandwich-island-girl-2.html. DeSoto Brown quoted.
9 “Sandwich Island Girl 4”, LEGENDARY SURFERS, 3 May 2006 - http://www.legendarysurfers.com/2006/05/sandwich-island-girl-4.html
10 “Sandwich Island Girl 3”, LEGENDARY SURFERS, 24 April 2006 - http://www.legendarysurfers.com/2006/04/sandwich-island-girl-3.html. Craig Lockwood quoted.
11 “Sandwich Island Girl 3”, LEGENDARY SURFERS, 24 April 2006 - http://www.legendarysurfers.com/2006/04/sandwich-island-girl-3.html. Craig Lockwood quoted.
12 “Sandwich Island Girl 3”, LEGENDARY SURFERS, 24 April 2006 - http://www.legendarysurfers.com/2006/04/sandwich-island-girl-3.html. Craig Lockwood quoted.
13 “Sandwich Island Girl 3”, LEGENDARY SURFERS, 24 April 2006 - http://www.legendarysurfers.com/2006/04/sandwich-island-girl-3.html. Craig Lockwood quoted.
20 Funderberg, Skipper J. Letter to SHACC and Malcolm, 1 January 2017, send in email 3 January 2017 with three scans of the newspaper items referenced.

21 Funderberg, Skipper J. Letter to SHACC and Malcolm, 1 January 2017, send in email 3 January 2017 with three scans of the newspaper items referenced. New material from the newspapers quoted.

Joe Quigg Interview, 1984

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In late 1949, Bob Simmons threw Joe Quigg and Matt Kivlin out of the garage he had rented for them to sand and glass surfboards he shaped. The exact reason is unclear, but is probably because of an on-going personality conflict with Quigg and that Simmons felt they were copying his technology in boards that they made for themselves and others.

Ever since Simmons' death in 1954, it has been difficult placing Simmons and Quigg in historical context when it comes to the evolution of "the Malibu Board" -- the further evolution of what Simmons first created and others like Quigg and Kivlin adapted first for girl surfers and then for themselves. Over the years, Joe Quigg has taken increasing amounts of credit for this evolution -- and other innovations -- often contradicting the record as we know it, and himself.

In 1984, Kevin Kinnear interviewed Quigg for an article intended to be published in BREAKOUT magazine. Unfortunately, the magazine ceased publishing before it could be printed. At last, it is now available in its entirety by following the link at the bottom.

Bob Simmons biographer John Elwell wrote that Kinnear had not known about the "long history of conflict between Quig, Simmons, and others" when he interviewed Quigg. It's likely that this interview would never have seen the light of day had it not been Elwell's indignation at how Simmons is increasingly being portrayed by writers who prefer to believe Quigg's contributions were greater than Simmons'. John wrote (in part):

"Recently, in January 2017, there have been published on the Internet and elsewhere articles that are critical of Bob Simmons, demeaning him, and mischaracterizing him. With labels like 'Gnarled Genius' and 'Knobby Misanthrope of Surfboard Design,' these portrayals of one of surfing's greats have only been compounded by personal attacks made in interviews by his former sander and glasser, Joe Quigg.

"Since 1984 -- and probably earlier -- Joe Quigg has increasingly taken personal credit for contributions to surfboard design that Bob Simmons and others made themselves. While Quigg has made contributions of his own, his gross over-reach in seeking credit has been tainting the historical record.

"Because Joe Quigg's narrative continues to be repeated by others as if it were true, I am compelled to release a previously unpublished interview of Quigg, done in 1984, and held in my personal collection since then. In that interview not only does Quigg contradict himself, but he contradicts the historical record and even himself again in later interviews. One might forgive him for that, but to take personal credit for the work of others and at the same time speak ill of them is quite another thing."
     -- John Elwell, 3 February 2017 

To read the complete transcription of the recorded interview, please go to:

Joe Quigg - Kevin Kinnear Interview, 1984

Riders of The Tijuana Sloughs

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Allen "Dempsey" Holder, who started and lead it all. Image courtesy of Tom Keck


[An older, shorter version of this chapter, last updated in 2005, is still online athttp://files.legendarysurfers.com/surf/legends/ls15_sloughs.shtml]


The hardcore surfers who rode the Tijuana Sloughs, south of Imperial Beach, California, right next to the international border with Mexico, are unquestionably the most unknown of California’s standout surfers of the 1940s and even later.

The Tijuana Sloughs was the site of California’s first assault on big surf. It began with body surfing and riding soup on very crude equipment – even “wooden doors” – in the late 1930s. After World War II, Sloughs big wave surfers grew from a handful of surfers riding planks to a couple dozen locals and visitors from all over Southern California riding redwood/balsa’s and then, finally, Simmons “machines.”

Although many of those who rode the Sloughs would go on to find more consistent big wave surf in the Hawaiian Islands, the Tijuana Sloughs remained California’s premiere big wave spot until Mavericks – outside Pillar Point Harbor, just north of Half Moon Bay – was regularly surfed at the beginning of 1990.


Geology & Topology


Bank Wright, in Surfing California, referred to the Tijuana Sloughs – located at the mouth of the Tijuana River, on the border between the United States and Mexico – as “A spooky, big-wave break.”1From the late 1930s onward, it became known first and foremost for its winter surf of size. There are three main breaks, the Outer Peak, the Middle Peak and the Inside Peak. A spot that breaks rarely is what some old timers have called the “Mystic Peak” or “Mystery Break” which is even further out than the Outer Peak and only breaks in abnormally huge swells.2

The Tijuana River, as it enters the Pacific Ocean, is an inter tidal coastal estuary on the international border. Three-quarters of its 1,735 square mile watershed is in Mexico. The salt-marsh dominated habitat is characterized by extremely variable stream flow, with extended periods of drought interrupted by heavy floods during wet years. The estuary – what is now the 2,531 acres of tidal wetlands known as the Tijuana River National Estuarine Research Reserve – is the largest salt water marsh in Southern California.3

The Tijuana Rivermouth is ancient, having formed during glacial times when heap stones were deposited as far out as a mile from shore. During the last glacial melt, the river’s mouth became a massive reef and was covered up with ocean. Kelp beds now grow on the stone deposits, over a mile out.4

The Tijuana River begins at the confluence of the Rio Ala Mar and Arroyo Las Palmas, eleven miles southeast of the city of Tijuana, Baja California. It enters the United States just west of the city of San Ysidro and flows northwesterly 5.3 miles through the Tijuana River Valley into the Pacific Ocean.
The lower Tijuana River Valley encompasses 4,800 acres; a small patch of open space between two major metropolitan centers, San Diego and Tijuana. The valley is host to agricultural farms and horse ranches. The estuary itself is about three miles long and one and a half miles wide. It encompasses 1,100 acres that include salt marshes and tide channels.

The Tijuana River National Estuarine Research Reserve, with its unique location on the Pacific Flyway, attracts many species of birds. Over 370 species have been sited in the estuary and the Tijuana River Valley. About fifty species are resident birds, the rest are migratory. There are six endangered species of birds which use the estuary: the California least tern, the western snowy plover, brown pelican, least bell’s vireo, light footed clapper rail, American peregrine falcon, and the belding’s savannah sparrow.5

Sloughs Rider Jim Voit wrote about the topography of the Sloughs:

“I have dived in the Sloughs area and seen eelgrass and rocks in the shallow waters. In 20+ feet of water the scene looks a lot like the desert at the foot of a canyon – lots of volleyball sized boulders and almost no vegetation. Further out, I have heard there is kelp. I have never seen “reefs” there of the kind seen at La Jolla, Sunset Cliffs, Cardiff, Del Mar, and other places along the coastline of the San Diego area.

“The location of rocks in the Sloughs area can be inferred from where the lobster fisherman set their traps, and that is generally in the area north of the Sloughs mouth and south of Imperial Beach Avenue. Bobby Wilder, a summer guard there, once dived with tanks in about 30 feet of water off Elm Avenue to determine why a lobster trap was set there, on what we thought was a sand bottom. He found a Navy F4U resting on the sandy bottom, with lobsters sheltered between the ribs of the wings. So the fishermen are good at finding lobsters, and where there are lobsters, there are rocks (or airplanes).

“The bottom around the end of the pier [in Imperial Beach] is sand, off the Navy radio station (north of IB) is sand, and I think it is sandy south of the “delta” until you get to Point of Rocks Mexico – offshore from the Tijuana bullring.

“If you follow the 3-fathom contour line on the map from north to south, from just north of the Sloughs mouth, you see it change direction from south to southeast. The gradient there (perpendicular to the contour lines) is fairly steep and points towards deeper water to the southwest, forming the “channel”. The feature we called the channel is really just the deeper water to the south of the delta. We all called it ‘the channel’, but in describing the area to someone, the word could be confusing…

“The [surfing] areas were called Outside, Middle, Inside, First Notch, Second Notch, Third Notch, Mystery Break, and Backoff.

“The really good surf at the Sloughs is in a very specific location and is associated only with a big clean north groundswell with an interval of 15 to 18 seconds. This swell breaks in a region called ‘the outside’. The outside is further defined by line-ups as first notch (closest to the beach), second notch, and third notch (farthest out). These notches are features in the hills south of the Tijuana Bullring (not built until the 1950s) that are lined up with the south edge of the bullring to establish a ‘distance from shore’ estimate. This ‘outside’ region does not indicate any structure except that the bigger the waves, the farther out they break. The Mystery Break is a break quite a ways outside of the outside break. It always backs off, and is always obscured by waves in the set that accompanies it. We never seriously considered going out there because it seldom breaks, and it always backs off.

“The outside and the middle are distinguished by a feature that causes a wave that breaks on the outside to ‘back off’ before it re-formed on the middle. The region where it backs off is called the back-off area. At times the surf is not big enough to break at all on the outside, but there are still good waves in the middle. At other times it breaks on the outside and backs off completely then re-forms on the middle. When the surf is large, soup from a wave breaking on the outside rolls right through the back-off area, but the shoulder halts its movement southward, recedes northward towards the back-off area and then re-forms to move south again.

“The tide and the size of the surf determined whether we surfed at the middle or the outside, and often we would start one place and move to the other as conditions changed.

“There is a similar structure associated with the middle and the inside, with another back-off area between them. Thus the question: ‘which back-off area?’ might come up...”6

“We never got a longitude/latitude fix on the position of the outside breaks,” Jim continued. “The enclosed chart shows a 2-fathom spot, which would be about 2.5 fathoms (15 feet), deep on a medium tide. I think this spot is near the latitude of the outside breaks. It is 700 yards out on the map, and the 3-fathom contour is only about 25 yards further outside. If we assume that a wave breaks in about the depth of water equal to its height, then the big surf would start about there. With all the fancy electronics available these days, there may be someone with a good longitude/latitude fix on the outside breaks. I believe the estimate of 1 mile out is an exaggeration, as the map shows a depth of 6 fathoms at 1 mile out on the delta.”7


History of Imperial Beach


As for area names, there are several interpretations of the word “Tijuana.” The dominant interpretation has “tijuan” as a Native American word meaning “by the sea.”8

The area was certainly inhabited by the Kumeyaay people well before the arrival of Spaniards in the 1700s. After the Spaniards subdued the local people and began to convert natives to Christianity, the Kumeyaay were noted for their resistance to the conversion.9

Just prior to 1891, there was an active tourist enclave straddling the mouth of the Tijuana River. In 1891, floods destroyed between 30 and 40 homes. When the floods receded, locals chose to rebuild on higher ground. This search for higher ground is what started the development of the modern-day cities of Tijuana and Imperial Beach.10

Before it was known as Imperial Beach, a land boom hit the area in the 1880s. Promoters followed the general pattern replicated elsewhere. First came acquisition and subdivision, followed by a hotel or other attraction. Then came land auctions and finally the building of the community by its new residents.11

This same pattern held true for many of the developments in the surrounding area, such as Coronado Heights, Oneonta, Monument City, South San Diego, International City, Barbers Station, South Coronado, Tia Juana City, and San Ysidro.12

The modern history of Imperial Beach – the Sloughs’ closest population center in the United States – started about June 1887 when R. R. Morrison, a real estate developer, filed a subdivision map with the San Diego County Clerk. The map referred to the area as South San Diego Beach. The area it encompassed was 5th Street to 13th Street north of Palm Avenue and from about 9th Street to 17th Street between Palm Avenue and what today is Imperial Beach Blvd. This included areas that have since been annexed by San Diego and which were formerly called Palm City.13

Imperial Beach, 14 miles south of the City of San Diego, “was named by the South San Diego Investment Company in order to lure the residents of the Imperial Valley to build summer cottages on the beach,” according to the California Coastal Resource Guide, “where the balmy weather would ‘cure rheumatic proclivities, catarrhal trouble, and lesions of the lungs.’ Imperial Beach was a quiet seaside village until 1906 when ferry and railroad connections with downtown San Diego were completed. After that, a popular Sunday pastime of San Diegans was to board a ferry downtown and sail through a channel dredged in the bay to a landing where an electric train would take them to ‘beautiful Imperial Beach.’”14 Despite these links to the big city, as late as the 1930s and ‘40s, Imperial Beach could still be considered a “sleepy” town.

Imperial Beach got its first sidewalks in 1909-1910 and a wooden pier was constructed about 1909. The pier’s original purpose was to generate electricity for the town, using wave action which activated massive machinery on the end of the pier. The “Edwards Wave Motor” ended as a failure and was eventually dis-assembled and removed. For many years thereafter, though, the pier attracted large crowds, as did the nearby boardwalk and bathhouse. The wooden pier finally deteriorated and it washed into the sea in the severe storm of 1948. The boardwalk lasted until 1953.15

In 1910, the builder of the Hotel del Coronado, E. S. Babcock – who reportedly kept a mistress in Imperial Beach – dredged a channel to where the north end of 10th Street is today. Boats carrying up to fifty passengers landed at what was called the South San Diego Landing. The boats were operated by Oakley Hall and Ralph Chandler. Captain A. J. Larsen piloted the Grant as it traveled from Market Street, in San Diego, to the South Bay Landing, three times a day. Sometimes a night trip was added. A battery powered trolley car operated by the Mexico and San Diego Railway Company met the people at the South Bay Landing. The trolley took them up 10th Street to Palm Avenue and then west on Palm to First Street, where it turned left and proceeded to the end of the street before returning to the landing. The motor cars’ batteries were the newest invention of Thomas A. Edison, who had experimented with a way to do away with the overhead trolley car wires. The cruises were very popular for about six years.16

A decade after World War II, on June 5, 1956, Imperial Beach voted to become its own independent city. The act of incorporation was recorded in the California State Secretary’s office on July 18th, 1956. This became the official birthday of Imperial Beach, which became the tenth city in San Diego County and the 327th city in California.17


1937-41


Just prior to World War II, a very small number of pioneering California surfers began surfing south of Imperial Beach, off the river mouth of the Tijuana River. They established the spot so solidly among Southern California surfers that after the war, The Sloughs became the testing ground for most mainlanders going on to more consistent bigger surf in the Hawaiian Islands. The Sloughs were home of the then-known biggest waves off the continental United States.

Tijuana Sloughs was first surfed – body surfed, actually – in 1937 by Allen “Dempsey” Holder.

“In the summer of ’37, I went down to the Sloughs and camped with my family,” Dempsey recalled. “Well, I saw big waves breaking out at outside shore break and went body surfing. I never did get out to the outside of it. A big set came and I was still inside of it. Well, I sort of made note of that – boy, you know, surf breaking out that far.”18

“According to Dempsey,” said John Elwell, a Sloughs rider that would come along in the early 1950s, “Towney Cromwell and him surfed it first [on surfboards] in 1939.”19

“One of the first guys that surfed down here with me was Towney Cromwell,” Dempsey confirmed. “He was studying oceanography at Scripps.”20

For at least the next 10 years, Dempsey rode the Sloughs on the redwood plank surfboards of the time. In the late 1940s, he got a dramatically improved surfboard from Bob Simmons.

“The Sloughs was Dempsey’s place,” Lloyd Baker wrote me. “Every big day with the right swell direction and good wind condition, Dempsey was there. The rest of us were just visitors, a day here and a day there.”21 A similar parallel can be drawn to the story of Jeff Clark and Mavericks, decades later up the coast.

“Dempsey was the guru down there,” agreed Flippy Hoffman,22 who rode the Sloughs as a visitor in the late 1940s. What’s more, “Dempsey was surfing there all by himself,” for many years, testified Windansea surfer Jim “Burrhead” Drever, who was one of the early guys to surf the Sloughs, in the 1940s. “He was really glad to have friends show up to surf with.”23

“Back in the ‘30s and [beginning] ‘40s there were the Hughes brothers,” Dempsey remembered of surfing the inside break, adding that he wasn’t alone all the time. “They would take a barn door out and would hold it and jump on it in the surf.”24

“He had originally come from Texas, with his family,” Chuck Quinn, who came onto the Sloughs scene in 1949,25told me of Dempsey. “He started surfing at Pacific Beach, at what was called ‘PB Point’… His mentor, his hero, was Don Okey from Windansea. He said, ‘He was the best. I learned from Okey. He was a genius. He would have been a millionaire, with a little bit of luck, because he was always inventing things.’

“‘Dempsey,’ I said, ‘Did you and Okey surf together at PB Point?’ He said, ‘Yeah, that was the original.’

“Okey talks about riding 30 and 40-foot waves off Pacific Beach Point,” Chuck repeated to me. “I surfed waves over 20-feet, there,” he attested.26

Chuck might have been exaggerating on Don’s behalf, for as Lloyd Baker underscored, “We surfed the PB Point from 1937 until 1960 and I never saw a wave more than 20 or 25 feet.” Lloyd added, with some humor: “I don’t know what Okey was smoking when he saw 40 footers.”27

“I used to surf with Dempsey Holder in La Jolla, at Windansea,” Woody Ekstrom told me, “and I also surfed with Dempsey at Sunset Cliffs, but mainly in La Jolla. We’d grab a sandwich, lay down in the park there by La Jolla Cove. It’s something I will always remember – having lunches in the park.

“From there, Dempsey would always come up because Windansea was the most consistent peak of its time. You know, as far as speed and being tough most of the time. You could always get something out of it.

“Dempsey then went down to Imperial Beach to lifeguard…”28

“What you need to understand,” emphasized John Elwell, who began surfing the Sloughs a little after Chuck Quinn and a good number of years after Woody began down there, “is that what happened in 1939-1941 was brief. They just sampled it and had boards that really couldn’t surf it. Then, the war broke out and they all went into the military. Dempsey too, but Dempsey suffered a serious illness and was discharged. He thought it was spinal meningitis.”29

“Our boards were too heavy,” Lloyd Baker, who started surfing the Sloughs in 1940, explained, “and not quick enough to really get the most out of the big thick waves. Some were chambered redwood, others were balsa and redwood; average 75 to 120 pounds.”30

“It was so primitive,” Woody underscored. “Nobody was there. Dempsey’s the father of the area. Dempsey was the only one who really knew the Sloughs. He’s really the pioneer of the Sloughs… I know the word got out and fellas like Burrhead – Jim Drever, from San Clemente and Salt Creek – [was one of the first to show up]. And the word got out to the San Onofre area [and those guys came down, also].”31


Winter 1943-44


When the 1940s got under way, Kim Daun joined Dempsey, along with Lloyd Baker, Don Okey, Bill “Hadji” Hein and Jack Lounsberry.32

“According to Kimball [Daun],” John Elwell wrote of one of the Sloughs earliest riders, “surfing was tried again around 1943, when Kimball came back from the merchant marine once. That is when Kimball was swept almost to the Mexican Border.”33

It ended up being one of the most memorable big days at the Sloughs. It was the Winter of 1943 and World War II was still on in a big way. It was the same season that saw the death of Dickie Cross in big waves at Waimea.34

“In the winter of ‘43,” recalled Kim Daun, “I was in the Merchant Marine and just come back from a six-month trip. I hadn’t been doing any swimming or anything, and I wasn’t in the greatest of shape. Dempsey called me and said the surf was up at the Sloughs and wanted to surf with me.”35

“It was so god-damned big that day. So wicked,” declared Bob Goldsmith. “It was one of those days where you could see whitewater forever.”36

“Dempsey and I went out and the shore break was murder,” Kim Daun continued. “Dempsey had a heavy board and my board weighed 90 pounds. We were really a long way off the beach and we managed to get onto a couple of rides. There was a lull, but then Dempsey and I saw it at the same time: the Coronado Islands disappeared behind swells. So we immediately started paddling out like crazy. Dempsey was 100 yards north of me and I was on the south side. The first wave broke and I was over to the shoulder of the first wave and it got Dempsey. From that point on I never saw him again.”37

“I was trying to make shore,” explained Dempsey, “but they were so damned big. I was going like hell trying to get back in there and here’s something as big as a house, looked like it was gonna break on me. I turned around and dove as hard as I could to get in the face of it, and not have it break on me. I don’t know how long that went on.”38

“I got over that first wave,” continued Kim Daun, “and the second one broke about 15 feet in front of me. That wave took my board like a matchstick. My god, when I saw 15 solid feet of whitewater roaring down on me all I could think was, ‘Get underneath it.’ I finally came up. I don’t know how long that goddamn thing rolled me around. When I came up I was tired. The next wave busted in front of me again, and I went down and I thought I was deep enough and it still got me and rolled me and rolled me. The next goddamn wave broke right in front of me again, and this time I went down to the bottom and it was all eelgrass and rocks. I grabbed two big handfuls of eelgrass and that thing just tore me loose from that.”39

“The horizons tilted on me a couple of times, and that scared me,” continued Dempsey. “The next time I didn’t even look around. I just kept going, it broke on me, washed me far up enough so I could dig in. My eyes had dilated and everything was sort of puffy.”40

From Kim Daun‘s perspective, “Each time these waves came I would swim south as much as I could in the few seconds that I had. The next wave I got far on the shoulder and I swam south.”41

When Dempsey reached shore, “Bobby Goldsmith shoved my board over to me and said, ‘Where’s Kimball?’ I said, ‘I don’t know, we got separated. He took off left and I went straight in.’” Dempsey recalled that Daun, “was supposed to be out of shape. I was supposed to be in good shape. I usually didn’t get so tired, but when you don’t have a wetsuit on, your feet get a little numb, and the eyesight is a little fuzzy. I remember laying across the hood of a car – a Ford convertible – trying to get some body heat in. Bobby kept looking for Kimball Daun. Couldn’t see him anywhere. Well I said, ‘Goddamnit, maybe he drowned. Who do we let know... we’re the lifeguards, maybe we let each other know.”42

“I just kept swimming south,” retold Daun. “[And then] I was on the beach and they didn’t see me. I came in south of the Tijuana River. I was freezing. I started walking on the beach and they didn’t see me until I got to the mouth of the river.”43

“We waited there on the beach for Kimball,” remembered Bob “Goldie” Goldsmith. “I hadn’t been worried about Dempsey... old Ironman. I knew he’d make it. We were concerned for Kimball.”44

“I think I was as close to dying as I ever was in my life that day,” admitted Kim Daun.45

“During those days,” concluded Bob Goldsmith, “it was every man for himself.”46


Dempsey Holder


“Dempsey was just unbelievable,” recalled John Blankenship. “There wasn’t anybody else for sheer guts. He was the ultimate big wave rider. No fancy moves; he caught the biggest waves and went surfing. The closest guy to Dempsey was Gard Chapin [Mickey Dora‘s stepfather], although Gard never tackled waves as big as Dempsey.”47

“He’d take off even if he had a twenty percent chance of making it,” remembered Buddy Hull.48

“Dempsey would take off on anything, always deeper than he should have,” Buddy Hull recalled,49 and Woody Ekstrom agreed: “I remember him saying, ‘If you make every wave you’re not calling it close enough.’”50

“Dempsey was as strong as an ox,” Bob “Black Mac” McClendon said, “and he had the guts to go along with it. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t try.”51

“I think maybe he was a little masochistic,” declared Don Okey, “he liked to get wiped out.”52

“Dempsey called Towney in the early morning,” John Blankenship recalled of a particularly memorable time Dempsey rounded-up a crew to attack the Sloughs, “and he [Towney] could hear the roar of the surf in the background.”53

“Towney had gone over the depth charts,” Dempsey said, “and called me up and told me the bottom out there really looks good. I said, ‘Well, I told you about it.’ And he said, ‘You let me know when it comes up.’”54

“Towney comes up,” added Woody Ekstrom, “and comes out and tells me, ‘Hey Woody, you know that Sloughs is the biggest thing I’ve ever seen on the coast here. It’s the biggest stuff I’ve ever seen. Dempsey is gonna give us a call when the surf comes up.’”55

“About a week later it came up,” continued Dempsey. “I called Towney and he came down and got a lot of waves. The next day he came back and brought a kid from La Jolla named Woody Ekstrom.”56

“Dempsey called and was real grave,” added Woody Ekstrom, “and said to Towney, ‘I think it’s gonna be our golden opportunity.’ Towney looked at me and grinned from ear to ear.”57

I asked Woody what was so funny.

“Dempsey would say, ‘I think it’s our golden opportunity,’” Woody repeated and laughed at the memory. “It was colder ‘n hell and he said that and Towney looked at me and said, ‘Well, Woody, what do you think of that? Our “golden opportunity”!’ And, God, we were freezing!”58

“They’d get the phone call late at night, ‘Surf’s up,’” wrote environmentalist and local writer Serge Dedina. “The next day they’d show up at the County lifeguard station at the end of Palm Avenue in Imperial Beach. Dempsey Holder, a tall and wiry lifeguard raised in the plains of West Texas, and the acknowledged ‘Dean of the Sloughs,’ would greet them with a big smile. For Dempsey, the phone calls meant the difference between surfing alone or in the company of the greatest watermen on the coast.”59

“He would call up –” Woody told me. “I don’t think he could get a hold of me, but he could get a hold of… Towney Cromwell. Towney would [then] call me up and say, ‘Dempsey called and he says it’s humpin’. Do you wanna go down? Let’s go!’

“‘Yeah!’”60

“What year was this?” I asked Woody.

“1946, ‘cause I remember guys were on 52-20, after the war, you know. The war’s over and all these guys – GI’s – collecting 52-20. Even my brother was in on that.”61

“Towney and I would get in Towney’s ‘35 Ford coupe – trunk shoved with boards,” Woody continued. “We’d go down there [Imperial Beach] and meet Dempsey at the Sloughs itself. We’d get on our suits – we had wool bathing suits; like Navy ‘bun huggers’ we used to call them. We’d put on our black wool suits and… it was really cold, as I remember! Pretty cold. But, the main thing was we had to get out there before the wind came up. Once the wind comes up – and it blows through Imperial Beach quite a bit – by 11 o’clock, you’re completely blown out.”62

“We had good times together,” Woody reminisced. “Cromwell went to Hawai’i when Dempsey was a ham operator. So, when his wife wanted to speak to her husband in Hawai’i, she’d drive clear down to Imperial Beach from La Jolla and talk to Towney, in Hawai’i, through Dempsey’s ham radio. Dempsey had the ham operating set-up right in the lifeguard station; about 1948-49.

“Towney and I were just like brothers,” Woody said. “Of course, so was Blankenship.

“He [Towney] got killed June 2nd 1958,” Woody knew the date by heart. “I remember it [the day] real well. One of the saddest days of my life… I still miss Towney…” Woody said quietly, with visible emotion.63

“How long did you surf the Sloughs?” I asked, trying to divert some of Woody’s sadder memories.

“I surfed it until about the early ‘50s. In the early ‘50s, I had to go into the army – in ‘52; got out in ‘54.”64

As time went on and more surfers joined the group riding The Sloughs, the scenario would go like Serge Dedina described:

“Boards were quickly loaded in Dempsey’s Sloughmobile, a stripped down ‘27 Chevy prototype dune buggy that contained a rack for boards and a seat for Dempsey. Everyone else hung on anxiously as they made their way through the sand dunes and nervously eyed the whitewater that hid winter waves that never closed out. The bigger the swell, the farther out it broke. It was not uncommon for surfers to find themselves wondering what the hell they were doing a mile from shore, scanning the horizon for the next set, praying they wouldn’t be caught inside, lose their boards, and have to swim in.

“If you liked big waves and were a real waterman,” Dedina summed up, “... you’d paddle out with Dempsey. No one held it against you if you stayed on the shore. Some guys surfed big waves. Others didn’t. It was that simple.”65

“Dempsey was an ironman,” declared “Goldie” Goldsmith. “He was out there pushing through the biggest, goddamnest shit. He was fearless and brave and he had the guts. He took off on anything and could push through anything, in any kind of surf.”66

“There was one time when Woody Ekstrom lost his board,” John Blankenship gave as an example. “Well Dempsey grabbed his own board and Woody’s and punched through the surf.”67

“We didn’t have leashes,” Woody explained to me in that gravel voice he has. “So, if you lost your board, that ended your surfing that day because the swim’s too far. By the time you got to the beach, due to the water temperature in that area – it’s usually low [in the winter]; 50-55 [degrees F] – by the time you got to the beach, that was the end of your surfing” that day.68

“One time I lost my board,” Woody said of the time Blankenship had mentioned, “and Dempsey had caught it inside… He got hold of my board by the tailblock. He had my board plus his. A board in each hand, shoving through these walls [noses first].”69

“We were blown away,” Blankenship attested. “Nobody had ever seen anyone ever do that before. We had enough trouble punching our own boards through the soup.”70

“The biggest wave I ever rode out there was in the ‘40s,” said Dempsey. “I caught one on the outside with that big old board I had. The only reason I took off on the thing [was] because it looked like there was something else that was gonna break on me behind it. Just barely made it, and before I got to the end, it actually broke over me. I got on the shoulder and straightened it out. Got down and made one paddle and got in the backoff area. I swear there was one of those big old waves that was as big as the one I’d taken off on. I was scared to death (laughs). I got far enough out on the end, cut back, got underneath the soup, and rode it till waist-deep water and went into the beach.”71


1st Crew, Early 1940s

· Towne “Towney” Cromwell
· Kimball “Kim” Daun
· Don Okey
· Lloyd Baker
· John Blankenship
· Bob “Goldie” Goldsmith
· Bill “Hadji” Hein
· Jack Lounsberry
Visitors:
· Lorrin “Whitey” Harrison
· Ron “Canoe” Drummond


After The War


“Beginning in the 1940s,” wrote Serge Dedina in a 1994 article on the Sloughs for what was then called The Longboard Quarterly (later just Longboard magazine), “when north swells closed out the coast, surfers from all over Southern California made the journey to a remote and desolate beach within spitting distance of the Mexican border. Before the Malibu, San Onofre, and Windansea gangs surfed Makaha and the North Shore, they experienced the thrill and fear of big waves at the Sloughs.”72

Even so, only a handful of surfers regularly surfed the Sloughs. While word of the size of the winter surf at the Tijuana Sloughs grew as time went on, visitors from outside were never large in number. They came from a select group of Southern California’s best watermen – guys like Ron Drummond and Whitey Harrison.

“Back in the early ‘40s I surfed the Sloughs when it was huge,” retold Lorrin “Whitey” Harrison. “It was all you could do to get out. Really big. We were way the hell out. Canoe Drummond came down.”73

“We paddled out and the surf was probably about 20 feet high or so,” remembered Ron “Canoe” Drummond. “I looked out about a mile where some tremendously big waves were breaking. I asked if anybody wanted to go out there with me, but nobody did. So I went in my canoe and paddled out there. I set my sights in the U.S. and in Mexico, and figured out where I wanted to be. One of the biggest sets came through and I caught a wave that was bigger than most. I rode down it when it closed over me. I was caught in the tunnel. Well I rode near 100 feet in the tunnel and just barely made it out. If that wave would have collapsed on me, it would have killed me.”74

“The main draw back to the Sloughs,” Lloyd Baker wrote me, “was the distance from shore the waves broke [from]. And the temp of the water: 51-58 degrees most all winter. Because of the temp of the air and water, you sometimes did things that were not too bright.”75

“One big day,” Lloyd went on, “I lost my board on the first wave and it was gone to shore or some place toward shore. It was already cold from the air temp, so in desperation, I picked up the next wave, which was the largest I had ever tried to body surf. I was so long back in the powerful white water that I was about to dive and give it up. Then, I shot out in front to get a little air. It finally let me go when I reached the shorebreak. It was nice to catch my breath and get warm again.”76

“The down side of the Sloughs,” Lloyd added, “was the inconsistency (only 4 or 5 times a winter). I lived in Mission Beach and Dempsey would call me if he thought the next morning might be good. This was fine, but it took 5 or 6 hours out of that day. The time to drive to Imperial Beach, then to get organized and down to the Sloughs, wait for a lull in the shorebreak, paddle out (a long, long way), catch 2 or 3 waves, then getting warm [on the beach], and back home too exhausted to work.”77

Word continued to spread about the Sloughs, but it was hard to compare to, outside the Islands.

“I had told the guys up north about the surf down here,” Dempsey said. “They were asking about it. One day I stopped at Dana Point on my way back from L.A. with a load of balsa wood. It was the biggest surf they had there in six years. They wanted me to compare it, and I told them, ‘Well, the backside of the [Slough] waves were bigger than... the frontsides [of the Dana Point waves].”78

Jim “Burrhead” Drever‘s initial introduction to the Sloughs was not untypical for a good number of Southern California’s best surfers. He recalled, “One time about 1947, I was sleeping in my ‘39 convertible right on the beach at Windansea, and I heard these guys pounding on the car. I’d heard about the Sloughs and they were going, so I followed them. It was pretty damn big. This was before I went over to the Islands and I’d never seen waves that big around here.”79

“After the Sloughs,” remarked John Blankenship, the biggest waves at the Cove [La Jolla Cove] didn’t seem so big.”80

“We went out there in the goddamnest stuff,” remembered Bob Goldsmith. “Big stuff – that would scare the hell out of us. The soup was so big that we would roll over, drive into it with the board, and get thrown around like it [the board] was nothing.”81

“The bigger the better,” added Buddy Hull.82

“When you’re out there you take a different perspective,” said Goldsmith, “because you couldn’t rely on anyone else. You’re on your own. Sometimes it was just big, cold, and miserable. When it was big we’d say ‘Come on down and hit it.’ But since it would happen in the mornings, me and Dempsey would be down there alone.”83

“I got a board I built for the Sloughs that today sits in the Hobie shop in Dana Point,” reminisced Burrhead. “It weighs about 120 pounds. I put handles on that board figuring I could get out through the shore break better. I’d launch it and try to get it moving real fast. If I could get my feet on the bottom and give it a big shove and then hang on, the weight of the board would start [it] going through the waves. You could hang on to the tail, and the board was too heavy to get picked up by the soup. It drew like a drag anchor.”84

“The only reason we made turns,” explained Chuck Quinn, who arrived later on, “was to get an angle and make the wave. Our goal was to ride the biggest waves that were available on the coast.”85

“When the winter storms came in,” said Bill “Hadji” Hein, “well, people knowing what it was like down there, the first thing they talked about was, ‘Let’s go down to the Sloughs.’”86

Hadji again: “Huge, very huge, and dangerous. Way out to sea. Long paddle. Those were dangerous waves. They were thrill rides. You needed a heavy board. There weren’t very many guys that liked to go down there.”87

Skeeter Malcolm: “All of a sudden there was nothing and then there were these giant waves.”88
Buddy Hull: “There was virtually no landmark. You really had to be in the right place or you missed it.”89

Woody Ekstrom: “It was always hard to know where to grab the waves. When the sets came, it was really awesome. You didn’t know how far out the next one was gonna break. You never were able to see it until you got up to the top.”90

“The thing about the Sloughs,” said Burrhead, “was it was so damned big. That’s the reason we went out there. The big deal was trying to catch those big waves.

“During the ‘40s and ‘50s the Sloughs was the closest thing to the Islands. It catches deep water waves that come down the California coast. It’s pretty powerful because it hits on a finger reef that’s pretty far out and it doesn’t lose a lot of energy.”91

“The hardest thing is to be caught inside,” explained Dempsey. “A big set come in you know the outside is gonna break and its gonna take your board.”92

“One time Dempsey and I were paddling out and got over the top,” recalled Woody, “and here comes Towney off a real WALL, going right – they were rights. The only thing that was good about it [besides the thrill of the ride] was there was always a channel out there, once you got out through the shore break.”93

“In fact,” Woody went on, “the way I got out was to go into the soup… and out behind the shore break. Because, if you went south [at the start], the shore break was so big, you’d never make it out.
You’d just punch through and look south and see you’re outside of the shore break, then you’d cut out south and out – toward Mexico.”94

“I can remember when the walls were so big,” Woody said emphatically, “that your heart would go to your mouth. You’d come up over the top and see these monsters. You’d get over the first one – and, you didn’t think you could make it over it, but you did.”95

“I remember one time,” Woody added, “down inside [between two big set waves], one of the surfers let out a war hoop – a yell – and it echoed off the wall!”96

“The tactic for paddling out from the beach was developed by Dempsey and the earlier surfers,” Jim Voit, who came on the scene in the early 1950s, wrote. “It took into consideration the following:

“The current close to the shore runs towards the south during a north swell.

“The shore break is heavy (very heavy in real big surf) to the south of the channel.

“The shore break is lighter to the north of the channel in the shadow of the outer breaks. The energy of a wave dissipates as it rolls in from the outside.

“The current feeds a rip close to shore in the channel.”97

“The tactic then,” Jim went on, “ is to start well north of the slough mouth, to wait for a lull (there is always shorebreak to get through), to paddle straight out, letting the current sweep you south, and to maneuver towards the southwest so as to end up in the channel outside of the shorebreak. Woody Ekstrom‘s account of how to get out (The Channel) is accurate.”98

“The tactic for getting in from the outside, with or without your board is different,” Jim made the distinction. “The rip that may help you get out is to be avoided when coming in. It’s especially important not to get too far south, out of the shadow of the outside break, and into the situation where you must get back to the north, and across the rip, or enter some very nasty shore break. The tactic is, from the outside, to move towards shore and the channel, then to angle to the northeast towards the middle (some pretty big soup might roll over you), letting the soup help you in, so that you reach the beach well north of the rip. It’s not an obvious technique, and contradicts ones natural temptation to get south and well away from the big breaks on the outside and middle.”99

“Not having a wetsuit,” Woody declared, “and not having a leash – you had to make all the right moves.”100

“It was cold and we didn’t have any wetsuits,” repeated Burrhead. “If you lost your board it was a big problem. It took you a long time to get in.”101

“By the time you got to the beach you just hung it up and shivered for about an hour,” added Woody.102

“The swims without wet suits were extremely long and numbing,” recalled John Elwell, who started surfing the Sloughs in 1949. “We jumped right back on our boards and surfed to exhaustion. We burned old tires to ward off hypothermia and watched Simmons eating out of a rough-cut opened can of Soya Beans talking about the surf. Those were the days!”103

The temperature of the winter water added to the distance of the breaks from shore meant hypothermia was a major concern for all surfers prior to the introduction of wetsuits in the 1950s.
Hypothermia is reduced body temperature when a body dissipates more heat than it absorbs. In humans, it is defined as a body core temperature below 35-degrees Celsius (95-degrees Farenheit). Symptoms depend on the temperature. In mild hypothermia there is shivering and some mental confusion. In moderate hypothermia, shivering stops and confusion increases. In severe hypothermia there may be a paradoxical undressing, in which a person removes his or her clothing, as well as an increased risk of the heart stopping. Hypothermia is caused by exposure to extreme cold and any condition that decreases heat production or increases heat loss, like alcohol intoxication, low blood sugar, anorexia or advanced age.104

Sloughs Riders generally surfed in mid-50s degree water for an hour or more, without a wetsuit. Already cold, sometimes they lost their boards a good 500 yards offshore in big surf and then had to swim in.

Once wetsuits came into common use at the Sloughs, they were discovered to have multiple benefits.

“In the past,” wrote Jim Voit, “when surfing without a wet suit, most swimmers would dive underneath a big break, pause for a few seconds to let the turbulence die down, and then swim back to the surface, often through considerable residual turbulence. Now in warm water, body surfing with fins in 8-foot surf, this might feel exhilarating – but on a 15+ foot cold winter day with no fins and no wet suit it was no fun.”105

“After I started wearing a wetsuit,” Jim continued, “the tactic I used when caught inside a big set, or swimming in after losing my board, (no leashes in the old days either!) was as follows: when a wall of soup rolled over me, I would double up in a ball with my arms protecting my head and neck from loose boards, relax and conserve my energy. I might get pounded if the wave broke right in front of me, but the buoyancy of the wet suit worked to move me back to the surface. When I started wearing a wet suit at the Sloughs it took a lot out of the fear of getting held under. John Elwell and I also took to wearing a small inflatable military life jacket that we inflated after the set that wiped us out had subsided. The extra buoyancy made the swim in a piece of cake, comparatively speaking.

“I mention this so we’ll remember that the early surfers here in California didn’t have the luxury of wet suits and were exposed to the double disadvantage of being cold and being without the life jacket buoyancy effects of a wet suit. I think that the testimonials of Dempsey, Daun, and Goldsmith (Winter 1943-44) are a testimony of the scary excitement of getting wiped out on a big day and taking the long swim in through big surf. But, those testimonials would not have contained the serious possibility of death from drowning or hypothermia had they all been wearing good wet suits.”106

Another problem was when the fog got thick.

“I remember being out there with Dempsey in the fog,” Woody told me, “and we would hear this funny noise, like the top coming off a wave or something and Dempsey’d say, ‘What’s that?!’” Woody laughed at the memory. “So, you couldn’t even see too good [sometimes]. Of course, the fog means its glassy [so there was a trade-off].”107


Christmas Time 1949


Jim “Burrhead” Drever addressed the big wave riding of the “Father of the Modern Surfboard,” Bob Simmons:

“I used to say to Bob Simmons, ‘You’re making a big mistake up here [probably San Onofre]. You should go down to the Sloughs – they’re bigger waves.’ He would never believe me. Finally he went down there and he met Dempsey and he hung out down there.”108

Chuck Quinn recalled the first time he saw Simmons, when Dempsey and Simmons first met and Simmons’ moniker of “The Phantom Surfer” began:

“During Christmas vacation, 1949,” Quinn said, “I met Dempsey on the beach near the river mouth. He invited me to go surfing with him. A group of guys were coming down from Windansea and San Onofre. The next morning we met at the lifeguard station. As we were gathering, Dempsey said a guy had come down there the day before and had a light board tied to the roof of his car. Dempsey said, ‘I told him about the Sloughs and he drove on down.’

“We got down there in Dempsey’s Sloughmobile and saw a ‘37 Ford109 with the back windows painted out, a board rack screwed to the top, with some quarter inch ropes tied to it. The board was gone and we figured whoever it was, was already out there. It was big that day. Low tide, north swell, and of course, from shore we couldn’t see it.

“I’d never experienced anything as tough as that shorebreak. So Dempsey said to me, ‘Stick with me and I’ll tell you when we’ll time it and then we’ll go.’ I barely got through that last wave of set shorebreak.

“It seemed like we were paddling out for half an hour and there was still no sign of anybody. We got out and Dempsey says, ‘Geez, I’m looking for that buoy. I don’t know where it is.’ Dempsey had put a big buoy on an old engine block to mark the lineup. Eventually we got out to where Dempsey says, ‘The buoy is gone. The surf must have carried it away. Maybe I didn’t get it out far enough.’

“We’re waiting out there, when all of a sudden we realized there was a huge set coming, and it was way outside from where we were. Dempsey tells us, ‘Paddle out, paddle out.’ We all started paddling furiously. I had never been in waves that big. These waves were just huge. We got over a couple of waves, but right away half the other guys lost their boards before we even rode any waves.

“We were struggling, and I was holding on to my board. It’s a wonder it didn’t have hands marks on it. I was really scared and was in a situation that I had never even imagined. As we pushed through the next to last wave, here came this one lone rider on a huge wave. He was riding steeper and closer to the break then anything we ever imagined.

“After the set we kind of regrouped and we’re waiting for the next big set, when this guy comes out and paddles right through our group. Right into it. No one said anything. It was just quiet. We had heard about Simmons boards. There was a guy at Malibu that was making light boards out of balsa wood. So I said to him, ‘Say, is that a Simmons board?’ He looked at me and he said, ‘My name is Simmons and this is my latest machine.’ And I remember when I turned my board I bumped his board. I was just a kid and I apologized. He just kept paddling.”110

“[It was] My first day out in big surf,” Chuck told a little more details of that day. “I’d come down here... before. I borrowed a board from the lifeguards at North Island Naval Air Station [and] … paddled out [at The Sloughs]; the first time I ever rode a wave on a reef that was breaking [that far] out; first time on a reef made of stones; Summer of 1948.

“There’s a south swell break at the Sloughs. It’s a good little break and it was good for me, because I’d been riding sand busters at the North Island Air Station with a 12-foot Tom Blake hollow surfboard. I could hardly ever get a ride because it would pearl every time I took off. So, when I got down here [The Tijuana Sloughs], the waves had shoulders on them, cuz there’s a reef underneath it. I got a wave; a couple of waves.”111

“Then,” Chuck continued, “I bought a board the next summer [1949] over at Windansea… I rode some waves over at Windansea; over 10-feet, with my new board. Time to go to school. I went up to Villanova Prep School in Ojai. I came down at Christmas, for Christmas vacation. I could see, as I was riding the train down the coast, that the waves were huge. I knew, from what the guys had told me, that this [The Sloughs] was a winter surf place; that Tijuana Sloughs had tremendous waves that broke way out in the ocean on the north swell.

“So, I came down here in the very afternoon I got back to Coronado. I borrowed my mother’s car and drove down here. When I got to the corner, there, at Palm Avenue, I saw the lifeguard station. I saw a surfboard laying against the building. I parked my car; took a look at it. It was between 12 and 13 feet long; solid redwood. It had a balsa wood kneeling patch in the center of it, a round nose and round tail, and it had a skeg on it. So, I knew it was a surfboard [as opposed to a paddle board or rescue board]. I figured it belonged to one of the lifeguards.”112

“I drove down the Slough road and took a walk down to the pipe – there was a corrugated iron pipe. That’s where I’d surfed the summer before. And, as I turned and started back – it was low tide – I could see the waves breaking way out on the horizon… but, it was afternoon. The sun was getting low. The wind had been blowing all day and it was very, very choppy out there. I couldn’t tell, from the beach, if they were waves that were ridable or not.

“I was coming back to where I’d parked, at the end of the road. I was walking along the beach and there was a single figure coming toward me.” Chuck looked at me with intensity. “There’s just something about a waterman. If you grow up around the water, you can see it in a guy. You know. You know he’s a waterman just by the way he walks on the beach. So… we saw each other, about 200-yards apart. We walked right up to each other; nobody else on the beach; huge waves breaking way out on the horizon.

“So, I said, ‘Are you a lifeguard?’

“He said, ‘Yeah, I’m a lifeguard up at the county lifeguard station at the foot of Palm Avenue.’

“‘Is that your surfboard laying against the station?”

“‘Yep, it is.’

“‘Are these waves ridable? They’re breaking so far out, I can’t tell whether they’re the kind of waves you can ride on a surfboard.’

“‘Oh, yeah! We have to ride in the morning, down here. It’s gotta be low tide. In fact, tomorrow morning, a group of us are going to go out. Do you have a board?’

“‘Yeah, I do.’

“‘Well, you’re welcome to join us.’113

“So,” Chuck went on with his tale, “I hardly slept that night. I put my board on my mother’s car, drove back down here from Coronado. When I arrived, there were guys – there were 3 or 4 guys from San Onofre and 3 or 4 guys from Windansea: Woody Ekstrom, John Blankenship, Don Okey (I think was the group) and Buddy Hull; guys that I didn’t yet know. I came to know them later on, but they were guys that I looked up to.

“There was a strata. Surfing was stratified; very elite group. I surfed for a whole year at Windansea before any of those guys talked to me. Finally, one day after surfing there for a year, one of the guys said, ‘Nice ride, kid.’ So, when I saw those guys down here [at The Sloughs], all of a sudden I was a little rookie. In ‘49, I was 16 years old and these guys were the established surfers on the [south] coast…”114

Chuck had also surfed up at San O before. “John Elwell and I went up to San Onofre in ‘49, in the summer, with Lee Thompkins, who was head of the lifeguard service in Coronado. So, I knew who these guys were, but I didn’t know them personally.”115

“So, Dempsey right away came over to me, to make me feel at home. He said, ‘Put your board on that truck over there.’ He had made a kind of beach wagon. It was just a flatbed with an engine on it. It had a bucket seat that he sat in and he’d made the flat bed out of 2-by-4’s and driftwood that he’d picked-up. The purpose of that truck was to haul boards down to the Sloughs.”

“Those boards were heavy. They were solid, except for a few hollow boards like the Tom Blake board that I’d borrowed from the North Island Air Station. The boards were solid; either balsa and redwood or, like Dempsey’s, was solid redwood. They were heavy. Once he said you could put your board there, I knew I wouldn’t have to carry it over those sand dunes at the end of the Slough road.”116

“So, I just hung close to Dempsey and I listened to him. He was talking to the guys from Onofre and he told ‘em, he said: ‘A guy came down here early this morning and asked directions to the Tijuana Sloughs. He was driving an old Ford. He had a board on top of it.’ He says, “I think it was a Malibu Chip.’ We didn’t know much about the light boards [that were just coming out for the first time], except from what we’d heard – heard guys talking about ‘em. There wasn’t the mobility that there is, now. Guys didn’t travel up and down the coast like they do, now. So, we didn’t know who this guy was. Dempsey didn’t know who he was. He just said he’d asked directions to the Sloughs.”117

“So… we got in the Sloughmobile… down to the end of the dirt road, down there by Conrad’s shack… We had to wait until the offshore breeze stopped. There’s always an offshore breeze in the winter, blowing off of the Sloughs, out to sea. We didn’t have wetsuits and the offshore breeze would make us cold. So, we would wait until the offshore stopped. Soon as the offshore stopped, the ocean was glassy; no wind. And that’s when we went out. That would be around 7:30-8:00 o’clock.

“So, Dempsey… told us that he had taken, in the dory, a large buoy – a steel buoy – that had washed up on the beach. It had broken away from its mooring. He painted it white, fastened with a cable to a V-8 engine block used as an anchor. He rode it out to what he thought was the outside reef.

“The problem with surfing the Sloughs was that it breaks so far out in the ocean, when it’s big, that it’s very hard to tell where the next wave is going to break. So, the line-ups are difficult. It’s hard to get situated in the right place. And there’s always the possibility of getting caught inside and these big waves would take our boards all the way into the beach. There were no leashes on surfboards in those days. If you lost your board, you swam into the beach to get it. That meant you were frozen. That was the end of your surfing [that day], because [after] the swim in from the outside reef of the Sloughs, you were too cold to be able to surf any more.”118

“So, anyway,” Chuck continued, “Dempsey said, ‘There’s a buoy out there, but I can’t see it.’ By that time, we were waxing our boards and getting ready to go out. All the time, Dempsey was looking and he said, ‘I don’t know where that guy is.’ We saw his car and we saw there were ropes for hanging [a board], on either side of the car… his board wasn’t on his car. We couldn’t see him. It’s such a big scale – the waves were stacked-up between the beach, the shoreline, and the outside reef; about a mile.

“So, Dempsey took us down by the corrugated iron pipe...”

“The pipe,” John Elwell clarified, “was a WW II radar marker, it was huge and could be used as a line-up on moderate days. Dempsey did figure out some line-ups, after the war, on the Tijuana foothills, off the La Playa, which was Point of Rocks then. He had three notches. Also, as Jim Voit said, we used the control tower at Ream Field as a marker a mile out to sea in this maelstrom.”119

Chuck continued: Dempsey “told us... ‘You have to wait for a lull. We have to time the shorebreak.’ The shorebreak is the last energy that’s in the wave. It gathers up what little steam it has, after coming across that huge reef, and it breaks in very shallow water. It breaks very, very hard. The shorebreak, in the wintertime down here in big surf, is over 10 feet. So, you have to time it. They’re hard waves, breaking top-to-bottom and they’re breaking in shallow water, maybe 4-5-6-7 feet deep. Bad situation for those heavy boards. So, you wait and you wait and you wait. When you think there’s a lull, you grab your board and run and paddle as hard as you can to get out the shorebreak. When you get out to the shorebreak, then there was a channel on the south end of it and you had clear paddling from there on.”120

“So, our whole group got out to the shorebreak. They were all good surfers. We got out to the outside and still never saw a surfer and we never saw the buoy. So, Dempsey said, ‘I don’t know where the buoy is and I don’t know where that guy is, but I think we’re out on the outside reef.’

“Sets were about 15-to-20 waves in a set and there was a long time between sets; maybe a half hour. Other waves would come through, but they weren’t the big, big waves… So, we paddled over and we were waiting in a group. Then, Dempsey saw big waves way, way out; way out beyond where we were. We thought we were out on the outside reef, but we weren’t out far enough. So, he told us, he said, ‘Paddle south and paddle out!’ So, we all started paddling as hard as we could. These waves [coming] had whole, long crest-lines on them. You could see that they were coming. They were like marching soldiers, like an army.”121

“So, as hard as we paddled, we just barely got over the first wave and barely got over the second wave. Third wave broke and took half the group. They lost their boards. That wave took their boards all the way into the beach. On about the 8th or 10th wave – as we were struggling to get out, pushing through the surf and holding on to our boards as hard as we could – all of a sudden, we could see there was a lone rider coming across this huge wave; probably a 25-foot wave. Then he rode across in front of us and we got through that wave. We finally got out and regrouped.

“Dempsey apologized. He said, ‘I thought we were out far enough. But we weren’t. You never know, down here.’ It’s a very gradual reef. The reef was formed by the flooding of the Tijuana River and it spread an alluvial fan of river stones out in a great arc, from the mouth of the river. And the mouth of the river constantly changes, cuz it would get dammed up by the big waves and then the water would build up in the Tijuana River and form the Tijuana Sloughs. So, when it got high enough to go over the dam, it would all rush out again. But, it didn’t always go out in the same place. It’s a wild beast down here. It’s a wonderful, wild place.”122

“So, when we regrouped – those of us that were left – ” Gunker continued, “a set came and we all got some rides and paddled back out again. By that time, this guy – this lone rider – came paddling back out. And he paddled right through our group, without looking up, without saying anything. He went out beyond where we were; about another [40 feet]... Then, he stopped and started looking out to sea.

“I was going to school north of Los Angeles and I knew some of the guys from LA and I’d heard about these ‘Malibu Chips.’ They called ‘em chips ‘cause they were shaped like potato chips; front end was turned up, back end was turned down. That was Simmons’ innovation. So, I paddled over to him and I said, ‘Say, is that a Simmons board?’ And he looked at me with utter disdain. He said, ‘My name is Simmons and this is my latest machine.’ Then, he shifted his gaze out to sea.”123

“We all rode a couple more waves,” Chuck recalled, then, “we regrouped on the beach. You’re all very cold when you come out of the water. No wetsuits. We used to get these 100% wool swimsuits – the old fashioned kind – that had tops like underwear. They had double-thickness. They were made out of wool. Some of them were Navy issue. They said ‘USN’ on them. You had a double-thickness over your lower thorax. It’s dark color, either navy blue or black and that would absorb the radiation from the sun and you’d get a certain amount of warmth from that. Wool provides heat, even though it’s wet. That’s one of the reasons why people wore swimming suits like that in the early part of the century. We could get them at Goodwill or Salvation Army. We’d look for ‘em. That was the standard swimsuit at the Tijuana Sloughs: old fashioned swimming suits made out of wool, that gave off a little bit of warmth.”124

“So, here’s what happened,” Chuck continued. “We got back up to the lifeguard station. Simmons was there. He wasn’t a talkative guy at all. But, he and Dempsey started a conversation. He said that he’d been coming down the coast and he’d surfed out at the end of Point Loma by himself; way, way out in the ocean. And, he’d heard about the Sloughs and wanted to try it. He was stoked. He was really stoked. Ekstrom and Blankenship and Buddy Hull and the guys [from Windansea] and the guys from San Onofre – Jim ‘Burrhead’ Drever and a couple of other guys – we were all stoked. It had been a wonderful experience [that day].

“We were sitting there on the south side of the lifeguard station, absorbing the sun’s reflection off the white paint of the lifeguard station. By that time, the wind had come up. There’s a little bit of a lee, there, from the wind. We talked. Simmons and Dempsey became friends at that moment.”125

John Elwell remembered the board Simmons was riding. It was a “dual fin, concave with four slots, and eleven feet long. Later it showed up with rope handles to roll through the massive soup. I was not there that day because I was just a learner and did not have a board yet. I borrowed boards... I was down there right after that and met Simmons and saw the board. It was out of this world. It was like Buck Rogers had landed. It was so radical and so different that we thought he was some kind of way-out guy. Everyone there had planks. We begged him for some boards and he eventually made us all boards reluctantly.126

After this, “Simmons used to show up at Windansea,” recalled John Blankenship, “and tell everyone, ‘If you guys had any guts you’d be out with us at the Sloughs.’”127

“We called him ‘The Phantom Surfer,’” wrote Elwell, “after his incredible appearance and performance” that Christmas time day in 1949.128


2nd Crew, Later 1940s

· Dempsey Holder
· Towney Cromwell
· Don Okey
· John Blankenship
· Jack “Woody” Ekstrom
· Jim “Burrhead” Drever
· Gard Chapin
· Buddy Hull
· Skeeter Malcolm
· “Black Mac” McClendon
· Vern Dodds
· Bob Campbell
· Jim Lathers
· Dave Hafferly

Visiting surfers to the Sloughs, during the 1940s, included: Gard Chapin, Peter Cole, Richard Davis, Bill “Hadji” Hein, Matt Kivlin, Jack Lounsberry, Harry “Buck” Miller, Preston “Pete” Peterson, Joe Quigg, Dave Rochlen and Tommy Zahn.129

Jim “Lathers paddled out,” John Elwell told me, “but was never considered a surfer. Hadji and Lounsberry only surfed it a few times in the ‘40’s on planks. Baker, Okey, and Cromwell were the better surfers. They were not seen in the late ‘40’s and there after. Cromwell was killed in a plane crash in Mexico. Baker went into business and tennis. Okey went to Cal Berkeley.”130


Early 1950s


“So then, later on,” Chuck “Gunker” Quinn told me, continuing his recollections of Bob Simmons, “he came back. He didn’t come back right away... He talked about the Ventura Overhead… Simmons came back in… ‘51-’52.

“In the meantime, Dempsey went up to Southgate, which is an area in Los Angeles, to General Veneer Manufacturing Company, and he bought balsa wood for all of us; for myself, for Jim Lathers, for Jim’s brother Richard and Richard’s best friend Vern Dodds…

“So, we made five Simmons copies. We had looked at his board. Dempsey had talked to him long enough to understand the theory of what he was trying to accomplish in his shapes, so we made ‘em. We didn’t have a Simmons board to copy. We just made ‘em from having seen the board one time and what Dempsey knew, already, from talking to him. We made five boards. Dempsey, myself, Jim Lathers, Richard Lathers and Vern Dodds.”131

“So, we rode those boards,” Chuck continued, “down at the Sloughs that season of ‘50-’51 and it wasn’t until later on – ‘51-’52 – that Simmons came down again. He came in the summertime and he was surfing a lot at Windansea. He started shaping boards for [a few select friends on the south coast]… First board he made was for Dempsey. Then, he made boards for some of the guys who were lifeguarding here, then; Jim Voit (from Coronado), Tom Carlin, Johnny Elwell, Johnny Elwell’s girlfriend Margie Mannick – those two boards, Margie Mannick’s and Tom Carlin’s, were smaller. To me, they were among the most beautiful boards that I ever saw that Simmons made.

“The board he made for Dempsey was beautiful, too. It was 12-feet long. It was made from balsa wood that Dempsey got from rafts that drifted up. The Merchant Marine had rafts made out of balsa wood. Sometimes they’d get torn off ships in storms. Dempsey salvaged the wood. It was a beautiful board. Simmons made a board for me, which I rode from ‘52 to probably around ‘57.”132

“Did you and Simmons become friends?” I asked.

“Well, sort of. He was a guy that you really didn’t become friends with. He was very, very much of a loner. He would talk to a few people. Bev Morgan was a very close friend of his. Bev was a genius on the level with Simmons. Dempsey had the quality of genius. If a guy was really sharp and really intelligent, Simmons would talk to ‘im. But, the average guys on the beach, no. He was always thinking about something else. Guys would always come and bother him with questions,” Chuck laughed, then imitating Bob Simmons‘ gruff speech, with falling pitch:

“‘I d-o-n’t k-n-o-w !’ You know. And he’d walk off.”133

“I got to know him,” Chuck said of Simmons, “and I got a few good rides on his board and he said, ‘I like the way you’re riding my board.’ I guess that’s about as good a friend as a guy could be with him.”134

On the subject of the way Simmons spoke, I asked Tom Carlin – who, in the estimation of some of his old time Slough buddies, does the best Simmons vocal imitations – about Simmons’ particular speech. He denied that he could do a good Simmons imitation and then said that Simmons’ speech was a “Gruff way of talking. Kind of not in character with your image of an engineer. I mean, it wasn’t like he was using bad language… He’d be preaching a little bit. He’d get excited about trying to change certain things…” Then, Tom did a number of respectable Simmons imitations:

“‘It’s a dis-ass-tor!’ He’d be throwing his arms up… very emphatic about what he was trying to get across…

“‘It’s a wipe-out!’ He’d screech and yell.

“‘No Good!’

“The terms he was using weren’t specifically used at that time by, you know, all the surfers. He was driving the vocabulary…”135

“I always got along with him very well,” Woody Ekstrom told me. “In fact, the last day – Simmons’ last day [1954] – I went up to Bob and he was eating a vanilla ice cream, sitting on one of those stumps in the parking lot and I said to him, ‘Why don’t you join us for a North Bird Rock?’ He said, ‘This [Windansea] is good enough for me.’

“So, when I came back [from North Bird Rock], right away, guys had found Simmons’ towel on the beach and [his] board’s hanging in the shack and ‘We can’t find Simmons.’ So, Don Okey and I started looking up and down the beach, in the water. Bev Morgan was the fella that [had] brought him down there. Bev was looking all over [too]…”136


Dorsal Fins


“SAN DIEGO UNION – October 9, 1950: A man-eating shark tore a chunk out of the thigh of a 31-year-old swimmer off Imperial Beach yesterday morning in what may be the first shark attack on a human ever reported in local waters.”137

“We had an El Nino kind of condition during the summer of 1950,” Dempsey recalled, beginning the story of the first known shark attack on a surfer in California.138

“The water was really warm, and there was a south swell – southern hemisphere swell. Made for some beautiful surfing.

“Bob Campbell, Jim Lathers, Dave Hafferly and I went down to the Sloughs,” Dempsey continued. 
“Bob and Dave were bodysurfing, Jim had an airmat he wanted to try out there and I took out my surfboard. I was the first one out. The other guys were real slow in coming out. They were at least fifty yards behind me.

“All of a sudden I heard Bob Campbell holler something. Then Jim Lathers hollered, ‘Shark.’ [Then] Bob hollered, ‘Shark.’ He had a real frightened tone in his voice. I was sitting there on my board thinking that he come out here for the first time in deep water and he saw a porpoise go by and just panicked. ‘Boy,’ I thought, ‘He’s going to be embarrassed… he really hollered.’ Jim hollered at me again. It was a shark. I went over there but I didn’t see the shark. There was blood in the water and Bob grabbed Jim’s airmat.

“I put the board right underneath him and took him in,” Dempsey went on. “Got bit – I’m sure he pulled his legs up – he had marks on his hands. He said it got him twice. Jim Lathers saw it. He said it looked like two fins and then it rolled over. We didn’t take long, everybody was close to shore. I took him in on my board. He was bleeding from his legs. We took him to see Doc Hayes; he had a little office in the VFW.

“Bob looked kind of weak,” Dempsey remembered. “… he had that gray look. That shark must have taken a chunk of his leg the size of a small steak.”139

“We had always regarded the specter of death as a big dorsal fin,” summed-up Dempsey.140

Another “dorsal fin” incident was retold by Dempsey to Serge Dedina. It was of a time when Simmons and Buzzy Trent surfed the Sloughs with him and some killer whales cruised by. Based on Chuck Quinn’s recollections, this must have been sometime during the winter of 1951-52 or one of the two that followed. It’s also possible that either Dempsey or Dedina confused the story somewhat, as Jim Voit also remembers a killer whale incident, but it involved Buzzy Bent, not Buzzy Trent, later in the decade.141 Dempsey’s story as told to Dedina goes like this:

“Bob Simmons drove all the way down and he brought Buzzy Trent. So I went out. We got on the outside, sat out there a little bit, and a wave came along. Trent caught it and rode through the backoff area and then got his lunch somewhere in the shorebreak. His board ended up on the beach and he ended up swimming in.

“Simmons and I sat there talking, not really expecting anything. Well, we’re sitting there, I’m looking south, and two big fins come up – one big one and one not so big. They were killer whales and were about fifty yards from me. Scared me so bad I didn’t say anything to Simmons; he hadn’t seen them. I didn’t want to make any noise at all.

“I’m sitting there on my board. I’m not sure if Simmons saw anything until they went underneath us. Before I could do anything, the little boils come up around us. I remember my board rocking just a little bit. I looked straight down at the bottom. One of them passed directly beneath my board. We were only in 15 feet of water. I just saw parts of it. The white spots appeared, moving pretty slowly. Boils come up around. Simmons looked around and saw something. I remember him being profane – he was really excited about the size of these things. I wanted him to shut up. I hadn’t said anything. I’m still alive. I could see that big dorsal fin. Then the boil disappeared.

“I was still alive and I began to swivel my head around. I could see them fifty yards away or so, going straight out to sea. We relaxed a little bit. A little later Trent came back out and we told him what had come by there. He turned right around and went back in. Then Simmons and I looked at each other and went in.”142

“The Killer Whale incident,” Jim Voit wrote me, after reading the above, “is either an incident that I wasn’t aware of, or it has been distorted somehow. Here is an incident that I was personally involved in:

“Dempsey, myself, and Buzzy Bent (not Buzzy Trent) were surfing at the Sloughs sometime in the late 50’s or early 60’s. It was a nice day and the surf was breaking on the outside. We had come down in the lifeguard skiff, anchored in the deep water to the south of the break, and paddled about 100 yards north into the takeoff area.

“We were waiting for a set and talking, when we noticed what Dempsey speculated were two Humpback whales close to the skiff – in fact they seemed to be examining it. After less than a minute they submerged, then re-surfaced heading directly towards us. Their dorsal fins, side by side in perfect frontal view, identified them as Killers. We lay quietly on our boards as they submerged again, passed directly beneath us – the white patches on their sides showing clearly – and continued northward.

“We quit surfing for the day, paddled back to the skiff, and returned to the lifeguard station after alerting two body surfers who were swimming out from the beach.”143

“Buzzy Bent was the most talented Wind’n’Sea (La Jolla) surfer of his time,” Jim added. “He was one of the founders of the Chart House restaurant chain. I did not know Buzzy Trent except through his reputation as a Hawaii big wave rider...”144


Miki Dora


Jim “Burrhead” Drever recalled at least one day at the beginning of the 1950s, at Tijuana Sloughs, when Gard Chapin brought his step son Miki Dora along. Dora was still very much a kid:

“There was a day out there when Mickey Dora lost his board. We used to figure Mickey Dora was kind of a crybaby. This was when he was kind of little. He wanted everyone to do everything for him. He was crying all the time. If he came in and was cold he wanted whatever you had. He wanted you to take care of him. We were all used to having this lousy swim and he wouldn’t swim in. He finally cried so much that one of our old friends took him in.”145


Coronado Lifeguards


“Around ‘47, ‘48 we met a guy named [Dick] Storm-Surf Taylor,” recalled Coronado lifeguard John Elwell. “He said, ‘Go down and see Dempsey if you want to start surfing.’ Dempsey was known as the guy who would take off on big waves. He’d been down at the Sloughs since 1939.”146

“Storm Surf was there,” Elwell clarified, “but according to [Kimball] Daun, never surfed it. Dick was in the entourage and not a good water man.”147

“I started working as a summer lifeguard at Coronado… in 1949,” Jim Voit wrote me fifty years after the fact. “During the years prior to 1953, I surfed at Sunset Cliffs on the old planks and paddle boards. Sometime during this period, we became aware of the winter surf at Imperial Beach, and made our first contacts with Allan (Dempsey) Holder – the San Diego County lifeguard lieutenant assigned to [the] lifeguard station at Imperial Beach.”148

“In 1949 all the early birds were gone except Dempsey,” Elwell explained.149“Simmons showed up with modern boards and the activity and quality of riding picked up. The Coronado surfers were the most active down there as Dempsey’s followers,” mostly because they lived close to Imperial Beach, were good in the ocean, and Dempsey hired them as lifeguards. “Myself, [Tom] Carlin, Chuck [Quinn], [Jim] Voit were there. [Jim] Lathers was a lifeguard who really did not surf but tried it and was a witness to the history.”150

“Lathers paddled out a few times,” Elwell detailed, “but was never considered a surfer. He never surfed out in front of the station to practice or would go to Sunset Cliffs and Windansea with us. He was a lifeguard and friend.”151

“I started going with the older guys like Johnny Elwell,” Tom Carlin told me of his participation. “We started to go to Point Loma and Sunset Cliffs [first].

“We would go surf Windansea in the summertime.”152

“The great thing was that Dempsey was here lifeguarding,” Carlin continued. “He made friends with a lot of the people from Coronado. He used to tell us about the winter time, when it got big here [Imperial Beach]… it was a place we should see. He was very influential and a driving force in trying to get people to come down and really surf with him and find out how to get to the Outside Reef. I can’t admire him anymore [than I already do]. It was a really great adventure.’153

“The Coronado guys like Voit, Carlin, myself rode it more than anyone else,” Elwell attested. “There were [other regulars] like Jim Nesbitt and hotshot Navy Pilot John Fowler from Newport Beach.”154
As for others, “[Bill] McKusick, [Pat] Curren… were from Windansea155… [Rod] Luscomb and McKusick came over maybe three times,” Elwell tried to pin-point it, when I pressed him on each person’s participation. “McKusick was bringing down foam [core] boards to the Sloughs in 1952 or ‘53.”156

“Bill McKusick,” Chuck Quinn recalled to me, “he’s an old Windansea surfer. One of the best. A real innovator in board design, too. He was building light boards way back then; just out of balsa wood. No fiberglass; just varnished – short, too. About 8-8 ½ feet long…”157

“The La Jolla guys (Blankenship),” Elwell added, “were getting foam blocks from flower shops. It wasn’t any good. Simmons had it in the mid-40’s and was even blowing his own blanks. No one knew this until later. I saw them [the molds] and he told Dempsey he was doing it. He had a mold at the Aunt’s Ranch [in Norwalk] where he use to get all the fruit.”158

“[Walt] Hoffman surfed it maybe a couple of times when he was in training at NTC in the Navy,” wrote Elwell. “Simmons was down there all the time from 1949 until his death in 1954.159

“Hoffman,” John clarified, “… only surfed it briefly and was a visitor. Hoffman was a big guy with terrific coordination, like [John] Fowler. He could surf short boards, too. Walt was a top surfer. We knew him in ‘47 and I met him again in ‘54, in the Islands, while we were both in the Navy. He told me, ‘Tell Simmons to get over here!’ Walt had [just] ridden big Makaha for the first time.”160

Elwell went on to talk a little bit about Jim Nesbitt, John Fowler and Pat Marshall: 

“Jim was not too good, but tried. Simmons felt sorry for him because he tried to make a surfboard out of a Navy balsa life raft and cut three fingers off almost jeopardizing his Naval Aviator career. He was working on a rip saw and the wood caught on a knot. He scooped up his fingers and put them in a handkerchief and went to the hospital and had them sewed back on. He was a hot shot pilot who used to fly under bridges in Pennsylvannia until he was caught…

“Nesbitt was a little guy who was once a boxer and gymnast, who had no fat and was not a good swimmer. He wore a wool sweater and fins on his waist with a belt.

“Nesbitt, by the way, put his Simmons board on a [aircraft] carrier on the way around the Horn and stopped by Peru, which was probably the very first Simmons board and light board to surf South America. Peruvian surfing did not [really] get started until the later ‘50’s. Jim then surfed the East Coast and never saw a surfer. The shoreline would be packed with amazed on-lookers.”161

“John Fowler was a well built surfer from Newport Beach,” Elwell continued. “He was a jet pilot and had an extraordinary record of not a single wave-off on carriers in a Far Eastern cruise. He went into helicopters and was again the top pilot, flying the President of Korea and other VIP’s around. John used to fly out in his helo and sit over us while we surfed so close you could put your hand on the skid while he gave us down drafts, laughing at us. He had a tiny short board in the early 50’s and rode it with superb coordination, considering his muscular size, and was an excellent surfer.”162

“Pat Marshall,” Elwell went on, “was a wild UDT SEAL who surfed with us. He picked up surfing and was from the East Coast. He went out in all the big stuff and Simmons made him a board. He rolled through and dislocated his shoulder and had to be helped in or he would have drowned. After this some of us wore mini UDT diving jackets that you could blow up with your mouth… Buck Miller remembers some of these stories and helped Marshall in that day.”163

John didn’t leave out the non-surfers in his reminiscences: “What is missing also [in all histories of the Sloughs] is the classic hermit Conrad Grosser, with a Hemingway beard that knew us all, living in a drift wood shack where we paddled out, with whale bones and Japanese fish balls [buoys].”164 He “must have come and lived after WW II... he was impressive to us. He always invited us in to warm up after surfing and have a glass of wine, and we would listen to his poetry and stories.”165

As for Tom Carlin, one of the most regular of the Coronado guys, he surfed the Sloughs from the early 1950s to the end of that decade, then went to Hawai’i. Carlin, too, counted himself fortunate to have a Simmons board:

“I was lucky to get Simmons to shape me a 9-foot board,” he told me, adding, “which is very mini [for those times], you gotta remember…”166

“Lots of different boards went out at the Sloughs,” Tom remembered. “Nobody really knew the right type board to have. They just surfed what they had. It wasn’t so sophisticated like it is, now.”167

“We all had Simmons’ boards, including Dempsey,” Elwell testified. “As Chuck Quinn said, ‘Thank God he came along when he (Simmons) did!’ Dempsey was surfing a 13-foot, 135-pound board. It does not take a genius to guess how many rides he would get with that thing. He did ride it. These were prehistoric days before Simmons showed up.”168

Simmons had a falling out with his sanders and glassers, Joe Quigg and Matt Kivlin in late 1949.169As a result, he closed his surfboard operations in Santa Monica and gradually gravitated to the San Diego area for more consistent surf and to finish college. It was during this time that the best and last of a series of Simmons boards were made.170

“There was a huge vacuum left when Simmons quit producing boards,” in Santa Monica, wrote Elwell.171“…In San Diego, a stream of people came down from LA and begged him for boards, as did San Diego locals. He politely refused and only made a handful of boards for a selected few. He surfed all the time at his favorite spots – the Tijuana Sloughs and Windansea. He was a busy man, finishing his math degree at San Diego State, playing championship ping-pong and going to the horse races. Simmons had devised a scheme of probability of mathematical odds, pooled family money, played the horses, did very well and took a cut. He had money, got out of all the dust, resin and hassle of surfboard making and had more time to surf and do the things he liked.”172

Simmons’ move down south marked the beginning of the end of what has been called the “Simmons Era.”173

Santa Barbara shaper Rennie Yater recalled, “Simmons went on down to live in Imperial Beach. People kind of forgot about him after he left the Malibu testing grounds. Surfboard evolution went on, but surfboards weren’t as radical. They were pretty conservative; with natural rocker, the way balsa wood came; with about an inch of deck rocker, with very little heavy rocker in the bottom of the board. That went on for a long time, into the Velzy era and Hobie era; didn’t change much at all ‘till foam came around. Then, you weren’t restricted by the dimensions of balsa wood. Even the balsa wood boards didn’t have much rocker, except for the ones in Hawaii, where they started to put kick in the nose because of the big waves.”174


3rd Crew, Early 1950s

· Dempsey Holder
· Lloyd Baker
· Bob Simmons
· Bill McKusick
· Tom Carlin
· Chuck “Gunker” Quinn
· Jim Voit
· Harry “Buck” Miller
· John Elwell
· Jim Nesbitt
· John Fowler
· Pat Marshall

Visitors:

· Walt Hoffman
· Rod Luscomb
· Pat Curren
· Peter Cole
· Kit Horn
· Buzzy Bent


Later 1950s


“After spending two years in the Army,” Jim Voit wrote about the period after 1955, “I returned to the San Diego area and took a lifeguard job with San Diego County, then with the city of Imperial Beach [incorporated in 1956] where I stayed, going to school part time, until I graduated in the early 60’s with a degree in Physics. During this time I surfed with the famous ones, Dempsey, Bob Simmons [died in 1954], Buzzy Bent, and many others in the rank and file like myself, who were caught up in the excitement of the times. If I had to sum it up, I was caught in these times because I was a better lifeguard than student.”175

“I worked here into the ‘60s – ‘63, ‘64,” Jim added. “All in all, about 10 years, first with the county, then with the city. And I surfed for about 5 or 6 years after that. Then, I took up boogie boarding.”176

“We always watched the San Diego Union,” Chuck Quinn told me of the standard winter time routine. “They published a weather map every day. During the months of October, November and December [and probably January & February, too], we looked at that weather map every day. What we were looking for was a big low pressure system in the Gulf of Alaska. The big bowl that’s formed up there by the Aleutians… That’s where the big north swell originates. We’d see a low pressure system and we’d see a number of concentric circles around it. We knew what the extreme conditions were by the number of isobars around the system. When there were a lot of isobars close together, we knew we were gonna get huge surf down here. It would be a matter of 2 or 3 days.”177

“So, that’s what it was,” Chuck went on in his soft, measured voice. “We had to have the north swell and we had to have the combination of very low tide – 6-feet, 7-feet difference between low tide and high tide. That could make the difference [between] waves breaking on the outside reef or just humpin’ up and just getting ready to break, but not quite breaking. So, you had to have a low tide and you had to be in the morning, between about 8 o’clock and 10 o’clock – it would start getting windy after that; on-shore breeze would kick in and we couldn’t stay on our boards. It got too choppy.”178

“I think, at the time,” Tom Carlin told me, “it was obvious you had to be a good, strong water person. You had to be willing to take long swims in cold water; low 50’s, usually; occasionally upper 40’s… safety conscious about how to get in and out. If you lose your board, you gotta be able to get in…”179

Lloyd Baker mentioned that the addition of a skiff to the Slough Riders arsenal was an important advance and helped decrease the amount of time it took for the surf session, especially the non-surfing parts:

“In 1955, Bell Rumsey, the captain of the county guards, gave Dempsey a surf skiff with a 25 h.p. outboard. We could put 4 boards and ourselves in the boat. Then, run back and forth along the shore in front of the lifeguard station until there was a lull. Then, cruise south to the Sloughs and anchor off the side of the break. We could then surf until we were tired or when the wind came up. This made the whole experience much more enjoyable.”180

“In 1955 or ‘56,” Lloyd added, about the advantages of improved equipment, “Pat Curren shaped me a balsa gun (a la Hawaii big wave gun); weight about 40 pounds. That made catching the huge, thick swells much easier.”181

“At that time,” even with the addition of better equipment, Tom Carlin emphasized, “it was important to know the right location and have surfing buddies – a lot more camaraderie in who you were going to be surfing with… There was the chance you might really get into trouble. Somebody might be able to scoop in there and help you out. Although, it wasn’t an issue that you really talked about… it was an important issue. You had a kind of buddy situation… willingness and friendliness to help each other out if they had problems.”182

Lloyd Baker, one of the earliest of the Sloughs regulars, gave it up at the end of the fifties. “In 1960,” Lloyd wrote me, “we moved to Aspen, where Bob Card, Buzzy Bent, [and] Joey Cabell were already living. This took the winter surf out of my life.” Later, when he moved back to Mission Beach, surfing was far less a priority and he quit altogether around 1975.183

Lloyd mentioned that he had “great memories of many old surfing friends,” including: Dorian Paskowitz, Skeeter Malcolm, Kimball Daun, Bill Nelson, Woody Ekstrom, Bill “Hadji” Hein, Buddy Hull, Towney Cromwell, Don Okey, Bob Goldsmith, Storm Surf Taylor, Whitey Harrison, “my nephew Bill Chester“ and “my 2 sons Greg and Ken.”184

Until Mavericks became known, up near Half Moon Bay, the Tijuana Sloughs continued as the testing ground for those who wanted to surf the biggest waves the Mainland had to offer and those who wanted practice before going over to the Islands.

Testimonies of its power came from many surfers:

Kit Horn: “The Sloughs had big spooky waves – way, way outside.”185

“I started surfing in Imperial Beach in 1962,” Jim Knox wrote me. “Demps used to let us use the old balsa red dot as long as we could get it to the water and back. I started surfing the Sloughs in the 9th grade (1963). There was a small young crew that was on it when ever it broke. Richard Abrams, Mike Richardson, Sean Holder (Dempseys son), Mike Malek, Chip Wilder, Jim Barber, and later my younger brother Jeff plus the older guys like [Jim] Voit, [John] Elwell, Bud McClure, Jimmy Zercher, Bill Gove, Fred Davies (there were others I can’t remember at the moment). Almost all of the older guys were lifeguards and we younger guys were guided into lifeguarding. I worked in Imperial Beach as a seasonal lifeguard from 1966 until 1996 during summer breaks from teaching.”186

“I always felt that the Sloughs broke like a great big beach break,” continued Knox. “If you went out you knew you were going to get caught inside. The first time I went to the islands was great. I had already seen and been in real big surf and the water was warm. On a 10 or 12 foot day the random 15+ footer always came through and nailed everybody just like a 5 footer shows up on a 3 foot day at your local beach break. The peak is so broad that when you drop in it looks like a giant wall all the way to Mexico. It moves around a lot. It’s not like reefs that have a real consistent take off spot. The Bullring line up just helps you get close.

“I remember the first wave I rode outside vividly,” Jim Knox went on. “It was about 10 feet at 2nd and Richard Abrams dropped in on me just to see what would happen. I was the new guy at the time and too scared to fall off when the spray from his turn smacked me. Mike Richardson mentioned the lifeguard test. Not everybody who guarded, surfed, but most did. I passed the test the winter I was a senior in high school. Paddled out, got caught, swam in, paddled out, rode a big one, got dusted, swam in, paddled out rode a couple, got caught swam in, paddled out finished the day. Dempsey asked me if I wanted to guard the next day. (Voit once told me when I was about 11 that if I survived [body surfing, air matting and beginning surfing] that I might be able to be a guard since they thought they were going to have to rescue me at least once a day anyway) (never rescued once!). Demps told me he figured I could get out and in, with in being the most important.”187

“Dempsey took me out when I was a kid to show me the lineup,” told Jim’s younger brother Jeff “Spiderman” Knox. “We were out in the middle of goddamned nowhere and he told me, ‘It’s always better to be too far out than too far in.’ Then this set broke and I lost my board and I was swimming. Dempsey came up next to me and said, ‘And you’re never too far out.’”188

“One day when I was just starting,” recalled Mike “Duck” Richardson, “I saw Dempsey on a good 10-12 foot, maybe 15-foot face, and he was right across the top. His head was over the top of this giant wave just going full speed, trimming straight across. I’ll never forget it. Solid white board with a big red dot. That red dot was screaming.”189

“Swimming was part of the deal,” attested Richardson. “All the lifeguards that Dempsey hired over the years for the beach were guys that surfed the Sloughs. You have to kind of know what you’re doing to survive in the ocean. You’re half a mile out and you’re stuck in this big circular rip. Someone that can get to the beach and paddle back out... I guess he can save other people.”190

“Way, way outside where eelgrass and kelp won’t grow,” described Richard Abrams, “it’s just big boulders. It’s all in one pattern – and it focuses the wave. The whole thing is just bending around and hitting cobbles that are way the hell out there. When you get inside, there are smaller cobbles with some bigger cobble, and some eelgrass. That whole river valley contributed to that break. All those cobbles formed it.”191

“Sometimes you can hear the cobblestones whistling – you can hear the surge and you know something is happening,” said recalled Mike “Duck” Richardson. “When you hear that, take the first wave and get out of there. Retreat and paddle back. Don’t try to fight it, cause you’re not going to win. All you see is the one in front of you. That’s the first one – the rest of them are bigger.”192

Visiting Slough Riders of the 1950s included: Buzzy Bent, Pat Curren, Phil Edwards, Walt Hoffman, Rod Luscomb, “Black Mac” McClendon, Bill McKusick, Don Melon, Buzzy Trent and Les Williams.193

“… Peter Cole rode it at least once,” added Elwell.194

It “was always exciting,” agreed Tom Carlin, who also remembered Peter Cole visiting, “when somebody from up north [of San Diego] would come down” and join the regular Sloughs crew.195

“The key to this is to ask how big was it and was Dempsey with you and did you know him,” John Elwell responded to me when I asked him for specifics on who surfed the Sloughs and when. “Stopping by on a sloppy 5-10 ft day is not surfing the Sloughs in the big stuff with Dempsey that could qualify you as a surf legend. Dempsey would not even go out unless it was really humping. The Sloughs can’t break when it is small and medium at high tide. It has to be early in the morning, a low tide, and big!”196

“So there is a lot of confused B.S.,” John said about who got credit for what. “... If you were good you could ride the Sloughs and Windansea at the biggest surf.197

I asked Chuck “Gunker” Quinn about pollution at the Sloughs: “Nowadays, don’t you think pollution’s a significant factor out there?”

“No,” he replied without hesitation, “because it was polluted then. When the big waves would create a dam and close off the Tijuana River from emptying into the sea, the pollution would pile up in the Slough; the pollution from Tijuana; after big storms.

“A lot of times, when we were paddling out, the dam would break and we’d paddle out and we’d pass excrement, but we didn’t worry about it. It’s a big ocean. Just kept paddlin.’”

“Volume must have been a lot less then,” I countered.

“Well, Tijuana was a much smaller town, in those days. There was not the chemical pollution in all the rivers that flow into the ocean, now; the herbicides, the pesticides, all the chemicals that the farmers [use, now]. Incidentally, that river bottom land – that was the richest of all agricultural areas in San Diego County. Behind the Sloughs there was very, very rich land – from the overflow of the Tijuana River.”198

More than just pollution had changed over time.

“These big wave cycles –” Chuck Quinn explained, knowing I knew Woody Brown, “Woody Brown can tell ya – about the 100-year cycles at Waikiki. Duke Kahanamoku rode waves out off Diamond Head over 30-feet at Waikiki… So, I don’t know what the last few years have been like at the Sloughs. Some of the younger guys – I’ve talked to ‘em – tell me it wasn’t like it used to be years ago. I’d tell ‘em where we were riding, where our line-ups were and they said, ‘No,’ they haven’t seen surf like that in [quite a few years]. You know, it’s cyclical. All physical phenomena in the Universe is cyclical. So, the cycles come and go.”199


Later Sloughs Riders

· Dempsey Holder
· Jim Voit
· John Elwell
· Bud McClure
· Jimmy Zercher
· Bill Grove
· Fred Davies
· Richard Abrams
· Mike Richardson
· Sean Holder (Dempseys son)
· Mike Malek
· Chip Wilder
· JimBarber
· Jim Knox
· Jeff “Spiderman” Knox
· Mike “Duck” Richardson


Dempsey Holder Revisited


“He was always steady,” Tom Carlin told me emphatically of the guy that had started it all and seen it through its most glorious age – Allen “Dempsey” Holder. “He was a guiding force… It’s wonderful to see the dedications and notoriety he’s getting [during the Surfhenge dedication] because he was certainly the first guy down here…”200

As for his riding, “Dempsey rode the biggest waves, back further than anybody,” Chuck Quinn, told Serge Dedina.201

“You mentioned earlier how Dempsey made an impact on you…” I prompted him.

“Mostly, it was his kindness,” Chuck responded without a moment’s hesitation. “It was his humility and his great athletic ability. He was a great athlete and a great waterman. But, he loved all sports. We used to talk about football. I was a football player and basketball player. He loved basketball. He played basketball every single morning. That was part of his routine right up to the time he died. He would pick-up games with the kids. He built the basketball stand, there,” Chuck waved over to the lifeguard station, close by. “He put a post in the ground, put a back board on it with a regulation hoop and net and he’d get in these games with these young kids down here. Believe me, they’d really play hard – 2-on-2, 1-on-1. When he got even into his 70s, I mean, elbows would be flying.”202

“He’d played volleyball that way, too,” Chuck added. “He’d come up to Coronado… Vern Dodds… was a great athlete… Vern was a great volleyball player. Dempsey would come up to the beach at Coronado with Vern Dodds. They’d come up a little early – they’d call us, tell us they wanted to play volleyball and they were great. There were a couple of guys in Coronado [who also played]. John Kersey and Mark Davis; two fine athletes. They could give Vern Dodds and Dempsey a pretty good game.”203

“Vern went out quite a few times,” Elwell attested. “He still has his Simmons.”204

“So, what I saw in him were the qualities of greatness,” Chuck said of Dempsey. “My heroes were [guys like] Joe DiMaggio and I knew Butch O’Hare – who they named O’Hare Field, in Chicago, after. I grew up with him. My father was a naval aviator. I grew up around heroes. It was a different era. The worst thing you could call somebody, in those days, was a ‘hot dog’ or a ‘grand stander’, because it wasn’t accepted on any athletic court, in any game. It wasn’t accepted amongst surfers [either]. A guy who was a show-off, a guy that was playing games – we let’im know that we didn’t go for it. If he kept it up, you know, we took care of him. It was just unacceptable.”205

“Dempsey was the model of a great athlete: cool under pressure; always the same whether he won or lost; always considerate of his opponents; always thinking of the other guys as much as he’s thinking of himself. In kindness; recognizing everybody’s qualities of greatness and their weaknesses and not making any judgment; just accepting everybody the same. Everybody was the same, to Dempsey, and he would go out of his way to help guys – anybody who was around him. He would give of himself. He’d take his time from what he was doing. He’d help guys, right?

“I used to come down – I’d drive down from Coronado. Years later, when I had some problems growing up and I was getting in trouble and all that and I wasn’t getting along at home too well. I’d just come down. I’d stand next to him. He’d look out, stand on the boardwalk in front of the lifeguard station. We’d look at the waves. Just standing with him, next to him, just produced a feeling of confidence in me and calmness.”206

“There are two kinds of surfers,” hypothesized Dorian “Doc” Paskowitz, who began surfing in the 1930s. “There’s the Buzzy Trent type who surf big waves but aren’t really into walking the nose. Then there’s the Phil Edwards types, who are blessed with amazing ability... their surfing is like ballet. Dempsey was a big wave surfer. A big solid guy. Low key. Not much for bragging.”207

“Dempsey was a great waterman,” added Bill “Hadji” Hein, “a strong waterman.”208

“Dempsey was like a god,” John Elwell told Surfer magazine for Dempsey’s obit. “He was powerful, fearless, handsome and was respected up and down the coast of California.”209

“You cannot write about the Sloughs,” John elaborated, “unless you knew Dempsey[:] the most respected big wave surfer on the Pacific Coast… riding the biggest waves with the longest rides in cold water with no wet suits or leashes. He was a handsome brute and fine athlete. His high school class in Arizona, which he was president… all thought he would some day be president of the United States. [Pat] Curren used to smile and laugh at that one. He became the King of the Sloughs, and a powerful community leader who people used to come down to the lifeguard station to discuss their problems, and the community problems, for solutions. He was highly respected. Then the city was formed [in 1956] and the politicians were jealous and had him fired. They were very petty.”210

“Dempsey was a fine man,” wrote Jim Knox, who rode with Dempsey in the 1960s, “with a quiet dignity that some people did not understand. He watched out for our welfare and always helped us (the younger guards) when he could. He made sure that the guys going to college had enough hours in the winter to get by so they could stay in school and not get drafted. I can think of at least six not including me that he really helped by providing work when we were in school. There was a time when every lifeguard in Imperial Beach was a college graduate or going to college. The beach cleaners were all in college. My mom used to say it was the most overeducated lifeguard service in California.”211

“He was a guy who did things his own way,” explained Jim Voit when I talked with him at the Ye Olde Plank watering hole next to the Imperial Beach lifeguard station. “Unfortunately, you can’t always do things your own way if you’re working for a municipality like the City of Imperial Beach. That was finally his downfall. You can be your own guy for a while, but eventually they’ll come after you.”212

“And Dempsey was his own guy!” Jim made sure I understood. “He was unique and he did things his own way.

“When he worked for the county, down here, we were far enough away from everything that we could run the show the way we wanted to; dress the way you wanted to; you can wash the jeep if you wanted to...

“But, if you don’t conform to The System and the people who run it, you’re gonna get run out eventually…

“That was very sad [how it happened to Dempsey]. I remember his budget at the time. It was about $35 thousand bucks to run this whole operation here; to pay the lifeguards, to pay his salary, all the equipment for the beach and recreation department. He had to take care and make sure all the rest rooms were cleaned. He had all these responsibilities and between $30 and $40 thousand dollars for the whole thing.”213

“And he did it his way!” marveled Voit. “He hired the people that he liked and they were good people – maybe, like, we didn’t wear very nice bathing suits, but they could go out and do their jobs [rescuing people]. And he did his job the way he thought the job ought to be done. He might not have kept the jeep as clean as it should have been clean. He might not have waxed it up. It didn’t look like a fire department [vehicle].

“They [the guards at Imperial Beach, under Dempsey’s leadership] didn’t look like the guys at Mission Beach! But, they got the job done. He was his own guy and he never changed!”214

Following incorporation as a city, “He went from lieutenant of the lifeguards for the county, to the recreation director of Imperial Beach. I took over as chief lifeguard,” Jim went on. “It was then that they had a recreation commission. We had to meet with them every week. And it was at that time that somebody might complain – ‘Hey, your lifeguards don’t look very good. They all have different uniforms on. And your jeep doesn’t look very good, either. When are you gonna put some polish on that jeep? When are you going to look like professionals? When are you going to look like the fire department or the police department?’”215

“Well,” Jim continued, over the roar of Ye Olde Plank Inn on a Sunday afternoon, “as long as Dempsey was running the show, he wasn’t going out and say, ‘I want you guys to look like policemen’… He was not going to change.

“Dempsey,” Jim declared, “is famous not because he was a great policeman or fire man. He’s famous because his character is great and the people down here loved him and loved the way he was.

“…[even so,] not changing was his downfall.”216

“I went to the dedication of the the Dempsey Holder Water Safety Center,” John Elwell relayed to me of his attendance in October 1999. “All of Dempsey’s family was there. All local lifeguard agencies were there in uniforms like fireman with badges. Dempsey would not have ever worn a uniform like that. Everything is so militaristic and formal these days. It was said that he only did what he wanted to do and nothing he did not want to do. He ran a rogue lifeguard service and no one ever missed a good surf at the Sloughs a couple of miles away. Surprisingly, no one ever drowned!”217

“There was never a sign on the lifeguard station,” Elwell continued. “A lot of people thought it was a Coast Guard Station because of the dory in the driveway! Imperial Beach was the last and the end of California and the pits of human beach life on the Pacific Coast. It was beach poverty at the lowest and the best. It was an era to live in and enjoy. Lifeguards were Gods and Saints. Greek and surfing Gods in bathing suits. Dempsey was the Guru, Mayor, and the ruler of the place. If Dempsey said it, it was law for the whole region. He was the Monarch! The [Dempsey Holder Water Safety] Center is too glitzy and not what Dempsey would have wanted it to be. The politicians took credit for it. No picture of Dempsey of his muscular tan super human body was there. A plague with his name and all the politicians will be put on the building that expensive non-practical architects built.”218

“… we talked about Dempsey,” Jim Voit days later reminded me of the initial conversation we had had about the Sloughs and Dempsey, “and the irony of his legacy being expressed in the name of the Imperial Beach Safety Center – a municipal building. It was the municipality of Imperial Beach that forced him into retirement – through the action of a civil service commission procedure – at which, by the way, I gave testimony supporting Dempsey. At the time, I was working in the aerospace industry, and I’m not sure of the details of the whole episode. It involved in part, the accusation that lifeguards used the lifeguard jeep to transport them to an area where they went skin-diving for lobster – out of season.”219

“I knew Dempsey for over 40 years,” Elwell wrote me of the last years of Dempsey’s life, “and worked as one of his lifeguards. He did not tell everything and could not remember everything. He had Alzheimers creeping in the last 10 years of his life…”220

“Dempsey was a good friend,” Lloyd Baker wrote, “but the last 5 years or more of his life [late 1980s, early 1990s], he was mentally disturbed and let himself go physically. He lived as a recluse in Imperial Beach. A sad way to end a beautiful life.”221

“I think,” Jim Voit concluded, “that Dempsey was in a supporting environment as long as the Imperial Beach Lifeguard Station was the outpost it was, in the remote South County; an outpost that, as Jim Lathers tells me, was thought by the citizens of the area to be a Mexican coast guard station. When the city incorporated, and Dempsey got the job of Recreation Director, subordinate to the mayor and the city council, I think the die was cast, and that eventually something like this would happen [Dempsey’s ouster]. Dempsey was not the kind to change his style, and Dempsey’s style just didn’t fit their mold. If it had, he wouldn’t have been Dempsey, would he? His legacy is really based on his unique character and individuality that endeared him to so many who knew him throughout the years.”222

Allen “Dempsey” Holder, reknowned California waterman, veteran San Diego County and Imperial Beach lifeguard – “King” of the Tijuana Sloughs – died of a heart attack on September 22, 1997.223 He was 77.224


Bud McClure Remembers


The following recollections from mostly the 1960s were written by Sloughs Rider Bud McClure:

“In the early and mid fifties, with the exception of Dempsey Holder, most of the surfing at the Sloughs was done by non-locals. Even the lifeguard staff at IB had a majority of non-local members (such as Bill Gove, Russ Elwell and Tom Thompkins all from Coronado). By the late fifties this situation started to change. Dempsey preferred to choose his lifeguards from the new crop of local watermen. When they retired, non-surfing non-locals were replaced by surfing locals.

“When the guard service was transferred from San Diego County to the new city of Imperial Beach in about 1958, Jim Lathers went with the County Guard Service but still lived in IB and surfed the Sloughs. By 1959 the IB lifeguard crew included local surfers Jim Voight, Bob Wilder, Fred Davies and the Lathers brothers. Fred lived in Chula Vista but his family had a vacation home on the beach in IB so he qualified as a local. Fred, a skilled shaper and glasser, built boards for his own use but I was lucky enough to buy two from his quiver, one of which I still have.

“Bob Wilder was the youngest of this group and perhaps the first to have graduated from the local high school (Mar Vista). Board surfing was not yet very popular but a few kids body surfed in the summer. I was the only board surfer in my class of 1959 while the class of 1960 and subsequent classes produced surfers such as “Bummer” Bob’s brother Chip Wilder, Richard “Flea” Abrams, Mike McCombs, Jock Ogle, Mike Richardson, Jim Knox, Ben Holt, Jim Barber and Dempsey’s oldest son Shawn. Dempsey recruited us all into the IB Lifeguard service.

“Richard Abrams, an absolutely fearless waterman, served as both lifeguard and fireman in IB. Jim Barber, a fine athlete, sand volleyball player and surfer later moved up to head lifeguard with Dempsey becoming head of Parks and Recreation. I would nominate Jim Barber for the record career number of surf rescues.”225

“Offshore there is perhaps the largest shoal area in the Los Angeles Bight if not on the whole Calif coast. This shoal is the “lens” that focuses wave energy toward the Sloughs break. The building of LA Harbor enclosed another large shoal area and eliminated the famous “Flood Control” break. According to the Corps of Engineers, IB has the largest unrestricted fetch sector of any beach south of Point Conception primarily because the channel Islands block swells to many So Cal beaches. Consequently, IB has been a study area for the Corps and they have a large sand table hydraulic model of the Sloughs area and IB in (of all places) Pascagoula, Miss.

“A graphic demonstration of the size and power of the surf at IB was the destruction of the ‘T’ end and the seaward 1/4 of the main deck of the newly-built pier (~1970?). The deck, at 25’ to 30’ above sea level depending on the tide, was lifted, tearing out all the bolts holding it to all the pilings, by a single large swell. Subsequent waves scrambled the wreckage and tore out hundreds of the remaining pilings.

“IB, with its larger-than-average surf and its two plus mile long stretch of sand beach has stronger longshore currents and more and bigger rips than any beach I have seen below Pt. Conception. IB has rips that rival the one at Sunset on the North Shore of Oahu.

“The Corp built the two ‘jetties’ (actually, groins) in IB as erosion control experiments. Groins might have worked on the East or Gulf coasts but have been a miserable failure in IB because the strong longshore currents generate permanent rips that transport more sand off the beach than is captured downstream (the Corps thought that sand would be caught upstream). The jetties are real hazards to navigation. They cause many injuries and several hundred rescues per year some of which are bound to be close calls. The longer north jetty, technically in Coronado, is especially dangerous because it spawns larger rips and requires a quarter mile run by IB guards.”226

“Dempsey combined incredible physical toughness with wit, intelligence and kindness. He cared for all the stray dogs in neighborhood, housing them in his step van, house and garage. He was an avid ham radio operator and circuit designer with an intuitive understanding of electronics that far exceeded the U of Cal professors of electrical engineering whose courses I was taking at the time. Above all Demps was practical; Physical discomfort, style, peer pressure even the city manager’s orders meant nothing if they conflicted with the simplest, most direct way to get things done.

“Demps took cold showers, even in midwinter so he didn’t need to deal with a water heater. One evening after work, I walked by Dempsey’s machine shop area in the basement of the main guard station. One hand was holding his mouth open while the other thumb and forefinger were turning a small drill bit into a lower molar. In response to my quizzical look he said ‘I just need to get down to the nerve.’ While he was putting the drill away he casually explained that he was planning a sailing trip and didn’t want to be bothered by that tooth. HE GAVE HIMSELF A ROOT CANAL!!! I was impressed.”227

“Demps would test for hot 220 lines by holding two fingers of one hand across the circuit legs. He would lick his finger before testing 110 AC. His advice for amateurs: ‘Stand on your right leg and use your right hand so the current doesn’t go across the heart. It only takes a few milliamps to stop the clock.’

“He would troubleshoot a radio or TV set with no other equipment than his hands, injecting a noise signal at the grid of each tube (or transistor base) starting at the output and work back thru the unit to find the bad stage. Anyone could do the same, but then he would then proceed to check the B+ (maybe 400 or 500 volts) for AC ripple by holding his finger on it! His advice: ‘don’t you try this.’”228

“During bad weather in the winter, IB guards built guard towers, modified boats, did pier maintenance, made loudspeaker enclosures, mobile amplifiers for the jeeps, and other stuff that would be needed in the summer. Dempsey’s designs for these things were models of ingenuity because they had to stand up to weather, misuse, vandalism and on a few occasions, gunfire. The term ‘Holderized’ was coined to describe such things: pug ugly but hell for stout.”229

“Dempsey was a crack golfer and a fearsome basketball player (as recounted by others in this series). Dempsey pioneered running the Colorado river in rubber life rafts. He was also into water skiing in the surf behind the lifeguard jeep. He built an A-frame on the wooden truck bed (the metal one rusted off) to keep the tow line high enough.

“During the late forties, Dempsey and the rest of the San Diego County Lifeguard crew at IB started playing two-on-two sand volleyball using rules that they picked up from the UDT guys based at the Coronado Amphibious Base and that lived in IB. The story I heard was that the frogmen evolved these rules during games in the South Pacific during WW-II. This may well be the genesis of the present game.”230

“Dempsey had a trick for crowd control at the Sloughs. He would sit well inside the impact area where he HAD to take off on the first wave of the set. If you lined up with him and didn’t know this and then failed to take off, Demps counted on you getting cleaned up by the following waves in the set.

“The sixties saw the Sloughs surfed consistently. Every swell, every winter, no matter how big it got there were some locals there to ride it. Oceanography texts (for instance Willard Bascomb’s “Waves and Beaches”) teach an accurate method for measuring wave heights: line up the top of the wave with the horizon and measure the height of the sight line from sea level. Using this method I was able to measure some of the Sloughs waves by driving the lifeguard jeep to the top of the highest sand dune and then standing on the roof of the jeep. This level was eighteen to twenty feet above sea level (two board lengths).

“The ‘outside shorebreak’ was usually 17 to 18 feet by this method. Smaller waves at the ‘main break’ (line the bull ring up with the iron pipe) were measurable up to about 22 or 23 feet but tide level and lack of a tall-enough sand dune precluded accurately measuring the larger ones. However, set waves on a good day could be conservatively estimated in excess of 25 feet. Seven to ten such swells might be surfed through the course of winters through the sixties and seventies. Winter sea surface temperatures prior to 1982 were generally around 55 deg F. We wore the bottoms of diving wet suits because the tops were cut to tight to paddle. Demps kept his sealed on top with a knotted bicycle inner tube. El Nino conditions in recent years have led to warmer water and more mid-latitude winter storms (and fewer high latitude storms in the Gulf of Alaska and the Sea of Okhotsk.)

“The place is basically a right but if you were willing to risk a long swim, the lefts could be longest and fastest wall you will ever see. The rule for kicking out: when you see sand being sucked up the face its probably too late. The shore break shaped the abundant sand such that the final explosion was uniform and ferocious! In the shorebreak impact zone there wasn’t a definite bottom, only a 50-50 mix of water and coarse sand that might be several feet deep. After wiping out at low tide you could find yourself struggling up to your waist in this mix with maybe two more feet of mostly water on top and a 12+ foot shorebreak tubing over your head!

“Outside the ‘main break’ there is ‘graybeard’s grave’ that is likely to be in the 30+ foot range. Dempsey didn’t measure or estimate wave heights. He just called them class A, B and C. Graybeards grave and the bigger main break were class A, outside shorebreak (the smallest outside Sloughs waves at about 16’-18’) were class B and everything else was class C. Dempsey built a crane on the pier that could launch the lifeguard skiff. A great way to deal with the Sloughs was to fill the skiff with every available board, cruise down to the waves, surf until all the boards are lost, return with the skiff and then just drive the jeep down and pick up all the boards.”231

“We made some tries at surfing the 21’ skiff in class A Sloughs waves. A large rubber buoy was roped amidships to prevent the boat from sinking when swamped. Later I put in a flotation deck with scuppers in the transom to make it self-bailing. It had a big four cylinder long shaft Mercury and could really move but the surfing results were poor. However, we found that the motor could run for quite a long time completely submerged! A crewman was along basically as ballast. On my first ride with Dempsey I asked what the signal would be to bail out. He said that if I heard a splash and didn’t see him anymore then that would be the signal.

“Boats in large waves tend to try to bury their bow in the concave face of the wave. The center of lateral plane moves way forward, the boat broaches and then either swamps if the crew high-sides it or just rolls. Even when it can be turned or aimed diagonally like a surfboard there is really nothing to keep a boat from sliding sidewise to the bottom of the wave. Although we frequently swamped and sometimes rolled the Kettenburg lifeguard dory, we tried to avoid rolling the skiff.

“Before we finally gave up on the idea of skiff surfing, there were a couple of attempts where the boat would get ‘stuck’ on the face of the wave. In this position the boat would not answer to full power and/or helm toward the shoulder of the wave. A surfboard is a similar position turns because its nose can be brought well out of the water which a skiff weighing nearly a ton cannot do. When Dempsey closed the throttle (preparatory to bailing out), the boat’s nose-down attitude on the ~45 degree face caused it to plow to a halt, swamp and then punch thru backward before it could be pitched forward out of the lip.”232

“A shoal, with its powerful surge and frequent bottom movement that disrupts pipes is the worst possible place to put a sewer outfall. The Sloughs shoal is also the most biologically productive area in the LA Bight (ref: CalCoFI plankton surveys, National Marine Fisheries Service, NOAA La Jolla Laboratory). The city of Imperial Beach was incorporated in 1957 primarily to prevent this outfall development by the city of San Diego. An outfall must also discharge well below the main thermocline (deeper than about 400-500 feet) to ensure that the sewage field does not find its way into the surface mixed layer. There is a point of land about ten miles south in Mexico where very deep water is accessible within a relatively short distance from shore, an ideal place for an outfall. Unfortunately, several years ago, the cities of San Diego and Tiajuana finally succeeded in their efforts to put a sewer outfall out on the Sloughs shoal.”233


Odds and Ends


Not knowing where to put these, I attach them here, in closing:

From Terry “Tubesteak” Tracy:“When I read [your work] the other day I sent a brief note because I wanted to say some stuff later to you, like today. When I was 17, Simmons and I were sitting in his old grey Ford in front of Velzy’s shop on Center Street, Manhattan Beach. Simmons was eating oranges from a box and I was listening to what he was going to say. When I read the piece it was just as he described it to me: big walls of whitewater as far as the eye could see from Coronado Island, Mexico to Coronado Island USA. He said that was the reason he installed ropes towards the nose of his board (one was on the roof of his Ford) because his arm was weakened and it gave him leverage for monkey flips on big waves and there were big waves down there. Simmons loved to speak about big waves and that day he challenged me to a winter time cold water surf off at Point Conception, the first one to come ashore was the loser. It never took place but he was dead serious. I knew some of those folks i.e. Woody Eckstrom, Bev Morgan, Skeeter Malcom, and a few others. Did you write [that phrase?]... because, according to Simmons, that was the way it was. You can smell the foam effervescing in the air. This is the best I’ve read about big waves.”234

Email from John Elwell to Gary Lynch:“Oh yes, It was the ‘49 night we met Walt Hoffman and Burrhead in TJ. The story is distorted, because it was during the late summer after Simmons’ big picture ride July 31st and Hoffman had it in his wallet...

... when [Walt Hoffman]... said he was from Malibu, I told him they didn’t have any big surf up there. Walt is a big aggressive Jewish guy. He said. ‘OH YEH!’ sticking his face down into my face, ‘Take a look at this!’ He said it was Simmons and was I embarrassed. Later Simmons gave me an 8 x10 of this picture and one to Tom Carlin.”235

From John Elwell:“Malcolm... This is the most complete narrative of the Sloughs ever done. The place deserves it, and so do those tough pioneers on the planks that braved the torrents... Mostly these guys were really scared and challenged. Dempsey, by the way, always said it was a safe place. Those first guys were my mentors and I deeply respected all of them. They were some of the finest surfers in California and could have held up to the best in the world for courage and skill. Above all, they were sportsmen. They have been friends for life, all helped young surfers get started. They were superior examples.”236



1 Wright, Allan “Bank.” Surfing California,©1973, 1985, Mountain & Sea Publishing, Redondo Beach, p. 172.
2 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with John Elwell, Coronado, 17 July 1999. Videography by Larry Butterworth. See also Jim Voit’s Letter to Malcolm, 17 October 1999.
3 City of Imperial Beach website, http://www.ci.imperial-beach.ca.us.
4 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 27 July 1999.
5 City of Imperial Beach website, http://www.ci.imperial-beach.ca.us.
6 Jim Voit. Email to Malcolm, 17 October 1999.
7 Voit, Jim. Letter to Malcolm, 17 October 1999.
8 City of Imperial Beach website, http://www.ci.imperial-beach.ca.us.
9 “Through Indian Eyes,” ©1995 Reader’s Digest, pp. 269, 274, 277.
10 City of Imperial Beach website, http://www.ci.imperial-beach.ca.us.
11 City of Imerial Beach website, http://www.ci.imperial-beach.ca.us. Based on former City Councilman Jay Robbins research and writings, along with original documentation and research by longtime resident Mrs. Freda Elliott Adams.
12 City of Imerial Beach website, http://www.ci.imperial-beach.ca.us.
13 City of Imerial Beach website, http://www.ci.imperial-beach.ca.us.
14 California Coastal Resources Guide, ©1987 State of California. Prepared for the California Coastal Commission, p. 365.
15 City of Imerial Beach website, http://www.ci.imperial-beach.ca.us.
16 City of Imerial Beach website, http://www.ci.imperial-beach.ca.us. Based on former City Councilman Jay Robbins research and writings, along with original documentation and research by longtime resident Mrs. Freda Elliott Adams.
17 City of Imerial Beach website, http://www.ci.imperial-beach.ca.us. Based on former City Councilman Jay Robbins research and writings, along with original documentation and research by longtime resident Mrs. Freda Elliott Adams.
18 Dedina, Serge. “Watermen: Tales of the Tijuana Sloughs,” The Longboard Quarterly, Volume 2, Number 3, October/November 1994, pp. 36-37. Dempsey Holder quoted.
19 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 27 July 1999.
20 Dedina, 1994, p. 37. Dempsey Holder quoted. Towne “Towney” Cromwell, often mis-labeled “Tommy” in surf historical recollections.
21 Baker, Lloyd. Letter to Malcolm, 5 October 1999.
22 Dedina, 1994, p. 38. Flippy Hoffman quoted.
23 Dedina, 1994, p. 38. Jim “Burrhead” Drever quoted. “Walt Hoffman was a brief visitor from Malibu and never came back after the Islands,” John Elwell wrote. “We were all spoiled by the warm waters and all the waves. The Sloughs break infrequently as I said before. Some years it does not break. When it does it is an experience to remember.”
24 Dedina, 1994, p. 38. Dempsey Holder quoted.
25 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza. See also Elwell email to Malcolm, 27 July 1999.
26 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza. Chuck quoting Dempsey.
27 Baker, Lloyd. Letter to Malcolm, 5 October 1999.
28 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jack “Woody” Ekstrom, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
29 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 23 July 1999.
30 Baker, Lloyd. Letter to Malcolm, 5 October 1999.
31 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jack “Woody” Ekstrom, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
32 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 23 July 1999.
33 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 23 July 1999. John originally wrote “around 1944.” I believe it was wintertime 1943-44. See also Dedina, p. 39.
34 See Gault-Williams, Malcolm. “Woody Brown: Pilot, Surfer, Sailor,” The Surfer’s Journal, Winter 1995 and “Woody ‘Spider’ Brown at the Legendary Surfers website, www.legendarysurfers.com.
35 Dedina, 1994, p. 39. Kimball Daun quoted.
36 Dedina, 1994, p. 39. Bob Goldsmith quoted.
37 Dedina, 1994, p. 39. Kim Daun quoted.
38 Dedina, 1994, p. 39. Dempsey Holder quoted.
39 Dedina, 1994, p. 39. Kimball Daun quoted.
40 Dedina, 1994, p. 39. Dempsey Holder quoted.
41 Dedina, 1994, p. 39. Kimball Daun quoted.
42 Dedina, 1994, p. 39. Dempsey Holder quoted.
43 Dedina, 1994, p. 39. Kimball Daun quoted.
44 Dedina, 1994, p. 39. Bob Goldsmith quoted.
45 Dedina, 1994, p. 39. Kimball Daun quoted.
46 Dedina, 1994, p. 39. Bob Goldsmith quoted.
47 Dedina, 1994, p. 38. John Blankenship quoted.
48 Buddy Hull died in May 1996 and given a memorial by the WindanSea Surf Club that same month. The club’s June 1996 newsletter “In Trim” described the memorial: “As the tide dropped, the peaks moved out on the reef a little further and the older folks came out to play. There were at least three, maybe four, generations of surfers mixing together on the beach and in the waves throughout the day. It was a soulful and inspirational sight to behold. Ronald Patterson showed up with his son, Timmy, and his grandson. Carl Ekstrom came down and talked some story, Ignacio Felix and Steve Jenner hung out all day, and Jericho Poppler came by to hold up the distaff [mother’s] side with Debbie Beacham, Miranda Joseph, Margaret Wiesehan, Isabelle Weber, Tara McElhaney and Indy Callaway... Many of the original, oldtime locals like Don Okey, Rod Luscomb, Bill Goldsmith, Bill ‘Hadji’ Hein, Bud Caldwell, Ron St. John and Robert ‘Blackmac’ McClendon came down to hang with us for the day and to honor the memory of their friend, Buddy Hull...” Info supplied by Tom Tweed, August 27, 1996.
49 Dedina, 1994, p. 38. Buddy Hull quoted.
50 Dedina, 1994, p. 38. Jack “Woody” Ekstrom quoted, quoting Dempsey Holder.
51 Dedina, 1994, p. 38. Bob “Black Mac” McClendon quoted.
52 Dedina, p. 38. Don Okey quoted.
53 Dedina, 1994, p. 37. John Blankenship quoted.
54 Dedina, 1994, p. 37. Dempsey Holder recalling Towne “Towney” Cromwell.
55 Dedina, 1994, p. 37. Jack “Woody” Ekstrom recalling Towney Cromwell.
56 Dedina, 1994, p. 37. Dempsey Holder quoted.
57 Dedina, 1994, p. 37. Jack “Woody” Ekstrom quoted, quoting Dempsey.
58 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jack “Woody” Ekstrom, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
59 Dedina, Serge. “Watermen: Tales of the Tijuana Sloughs,” The Longboard Quarterly, Volume 2, Number 3, October/November 1994, p. 35.
60 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jack “Woody” Ekstrom, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
61 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jack “Woody” Ekstrom, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach. Clause 52-20 of the Servicemen’s Readjustment Act of 1944 (commonly referred to as the GI Bill) enabled all former servicemen to receive $20 a week for 52 weeks while they were looking for civilian work. Less than 20 percent of the money set aside was distributed, however, as most servicemen either found jobs quickly or pursued higher education.
62 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jack “Woody” Ekstrom, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
63 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jack “Woody” Ekstrom, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank Inn, Imperial Beach, CA.
64 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jack “Woody” Ekstrom, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank Inn, Imperial Beach, CA.
65 Dedina, Serge. “Watermen: Tales of the Tijuana Sloughs,” The Longboard Quarterly, Volume 2, Number 3, October/November 1994, p. 35.
66 Dedina, 1994, p. 38. Bob “Goldie” Goldsmith quoted.
67 Dedina, 1994, p. 38. John Blankenship quoted.
68 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jack “Woody” Ekstrom, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
69 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jack “Woody” Ekstrom, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
70 Dedina, 1994, p. 38. John Blankenship quoted.
71 Dedina, 1994, pp. 38-39. Dempsey Holder quoted.
72 Dedina, Serge. “Watermen: Tales of the Tijuana Sloughs,” The Longboard Quarterly, Volume 2, Number 3, October/November 1994, p. 35.
73 Dedina, 1994, p. 37. Lorrin Harrison quoted.
74 Dedina, 1994, p. 37. Ron “Canoe” Drummond quoted.
75 Baker, Lloyd. Letter to Malcolm, 5 October 1999.
76 Baker, Lloyd. Letter to Malcolm, 5 October 1999.
77 Baker, Lloyd. Letter to Malcolm, 5 October 1999.
78 Dedina, 1994, p. 36. Dempsey Holder quoted.
79 Dedina, 1994, p. 37. Jim “Burrhead” Drever quoted.
80 Dedina, p. 36. John Blankenship quoted.
81 Dedina, 1994, p. 36. Bob Goldsmith quoted.
82 Dedina, 1994, p. 36. Buddy Hull quoted.
83 Dedina, 1994, p. 36. Bob Goldsmith quoted.
84 Dedina, 1994, p. 36. Jim “Burrhead” Drever quoted.
85 Dedina, 1994, p. 36. Chuck Quinn quoted.
86 Dedina, 1994, p. 35. Bill “Hadji” Hein quoted.
87 Dedina, 1994, p. 35. Bill “Hadji” Hein quoted.
88 Dedina, 1994, p. 36. Skeeter Malcolm quoted.
89 Dedina, 1994, p. 36. Buddy Hull quoted.
90 Dedina, 1994, p. 36. Jack “Woody” Ekstrom quoted.
91 Dednia, 1994, p. 36. Jim “Burrhead” Drever quoted.
92 Dedina, 1994, p. 37. Dempsey Holder quoted.
93 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jack “Woody” Ekstrom, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank Inn, Imperial Beach, CA.
94 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jack “Woody” Ekstrom, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank Inn, Imperial Beach, CA.
95 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jack “Woody” Ekstrom, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank Inn, Imperial Beach, CA.
96 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jack “Woody” Ekstrom, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank Inn, Imperial Beach, CA.
97 Voit, Jim. Letter to Malcolm, 17 October 1999.
98 Voit, Jim. Letter to Malcolm, 17 October 1999.
99 Voit, Jim. Letter to Malcolm, 17 October 1999.
100 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jack “Woody” Ekstrom, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank Inn, Imperial Beach, CA.
101 Dedina, 1994, p. 37. Jim “Burrhead” Drever quoted.
102 Dedina, 1994, p. 37. Jack “Woody” Ekstrom quoted. Woody Ekstrom is father to Carl.
103 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 23 November 1999.
104 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hypothermia
105 Voit, Jim. Letter to Malcolm, 17 October 1999.
106 Voit, Jim. Letter to Malcolm, 17 October 1999.
107 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jack “Woody” Ekstrom, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank Inn, Imperial Beach, CA.
108 Dedina, Serge. “Watermen: Tales of the Tijuana Sloughs,” Longboard Quarterly, Volume 2, Number 3, Oct./Nov. 1994, pp. 39-40. Jim “Burrhead” Drever quoted.
109 See photograph of Simmons’ car courtesy of John Elwell, taken from the collection of Bev Morgan, reprinted in The Surfer’s Journal, ©1992, Volume 1, Number 3, p. 50. Caption reads, in part: “a plywood wall closed off the rear. Note 10’6” twin fin slot board with roll handles.”
110 Dedina, 1994, p. 40. Chuck Quinn quoted.
111 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
112 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
113 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
114 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
115 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
116 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
117 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
118 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
119 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 10 September 1999.
120 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
121 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
122 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
123 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza. Chuck attended Villanova boarding school, in Ojai (near Santa Barbara), 1947-51.
124 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
125 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
126 Elwell, John. Email via Gary Lynch, 27 August 1999. Buck Rogers is a science fiction hero.
127 Dedina, 1994, p. 40. John Blankenship quoted.
128 Elwell, John. “This Is My Latest Machine,” unpublished, 1985.
129 City of Imperial Beach website: http://www.ci.imperial-beach.ca.us/bench-history.htm
130 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 19 July 1999.
131 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
132 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza. Chuck went to the Islands in 1959, spending time with Pat Curren on the North Shore.
133 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
134 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
135 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Tom Carlin, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
136 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jack “Woody” Ekstrom, 18 July, 1999, Ye Olde Plank Inn, Imperial Beach, CA.
137 San Diego Union, October 9, 1950. Quoted in Dedina, 1994, p. 41.
138 Cralle, 1991 definition: “An anomalous warming of the ocean surface, associated with a vast fluctuation in atmospheric pressure, that triggers abnormal northward migration of southern species of seabirds and marine life and brings about global changes in weather patterns that have been linked to droughts, severe storms, flooding, and landslides. El Niño, Spanish for ‘the Christ child,’ got its name because of its periodic appearance around Christmas off the coast of Peru. (CCRG) Both the giant winter surf of 1983 and the occurrence during 1988 of possibly the flattest waves in recorded surfing history were attributed to El Niño. (SFG, 3/90)”
139 Dedina, 1994, p. 41. Dempsey Holder quoted.
140 Dedina, 1994, p. 40. Dempsey Holder quoted.
141 Voit, Jim. Letter to Malcolm, 17 October 1999.
142 Dedina, 1994, pp. 40-41. Dempsey Holder quoted.
143 Voit, Jim. Letter to Malcolm, 17 October 1999. Jim spelt Dempsey “Dempsy.”
144 Voit, Jim. Letter to Malcolm, 17 October 1999.
145 Dedina, Serge. “Watermen: Tales of the Tijuana Sloughs,” The Longboard Quarterly, Volume 2, Number 3, October/November 1994, p. 37. Jim “Burrhead” Drever quoted.
146 Dedina, 1994, p. 38. John Elwell quoted, quoting Storm-Surf Taylor.
147 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 27 July 1999.
148 Voit, Jim. Letter to Malcolm, July 19, 1999. “Since we were pressed for time,” Jim wrote, “and the conditions at the Plank Inn [Ye Olde Plank] are not exactly conducive to quiet reflection, I thought I would review what [we] talked about and leave it to you to decide what texture, if any, it adds to the larger historical picture.”
149 See“1st Crew” list.
150 Elwell, John. Email message to Malcolm, 23 July 1999.
151 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 27 July 1999.
152 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Tom Carlin, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach. Tom said he met Dempsey in 1950 or ‘51.
153 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Tom Carlin, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
154 Elwell, John. Email message to Malcolm, 19 July 1999.
155 Elwell, John. Email message to Malcolm, 19 July 1999.
156 Elwell, John. Email message to Malcolm, 23 July 1999.
157 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
158 Elwell, John. Email message to Malcolm, 23 July 1999.
159 Elwell, John. Email message to Malcolm, 19 July 1999.
160 Elwell, John. Email message to Malcolm, 23 July 1999.
161 Elwell, John. Email message to Malcolm, 23 July 1999.
162 Elwell, John. Email message to Malcolm, 23 July 1999.
163 Elwell, John. Email message to Malcolm, 23 July 1999.
164 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 27 July 1999.
165 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 10 September 1999.
166 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Tom Carlin, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
167 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Tom Carlin, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
168 Elwell, John. Email message to Malcolm, 23 July 1999.
169 See Gault-Williams, The Malibu Board and Bob Simmons chapters.
170 Elwell, 1994, p. 45.
171 Elwell, 1994, p. 45.
172 Elwell, 1994, p. 45.
173 Lueras, 1984, p. 114.
174 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Rennie Yater, March 24, 1994.
175 Voit, Jim. Letter to Malcolm, July 19, 1999. Jim spelt Dempsey as “Dempsy.”
176 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jim Voit, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
177 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
178 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
179 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Tom Carlin, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach. Tom said he met Dempsey in 1950 or ‘51.
180 Baker, Lloyd. Letter to Malcolm, 5 October 1999.
181 Baker, Lloyd. Letter to Malcolm, 5 October 1999.
182 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Tom Carlin, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
183 Baker, Lloyd. Letter to Malcolm, 5 October 1999.
184 Baker, Lloyd. Letter to Malcolm, 5 October 1999.
185 Dedina, 1994, p. 35. Kit Horn quoted. “Kit Horn probably was a visitor with Les Williams,” John Elwell emailed me on 27 July 1999.
186 Knox, Jim. Email to Malcolm, 23 November 1999.
187 Knox, Jim. Email to Malcolm, 23 November 1999.
188 Dedina, 1994, pp. 37-38. Jeff “Spiderman” Knox quoted.
189 Dedina, 1994, p. 38. Mike “Duck” Richardson quoted.
190 Dedina, 1994, p. 38. Mike “Duck” Richardson quoted. Elwell wrote that Richardson was “a 60’s or very late 50’s surfer” at the Sloughs. See Elwell email to Malcolm, 27 July 1999.
191 Dedina, 1994, p. 36. Richard Abrams quoted.
192 Dedina, 1994, p. 36. Mike “Duck” Richardson quoted.
193 City of Imperial Beach website: http://www.ci.imperial-beach.ca.us/bench-history.htm. Partially correct.
194 Elwell, John. Email message to Malcolm, 19 July 1999.
195 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Tom Carlin, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
196 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 27 July 1999.
197 Elwell, John. Email message to Malcolm, 19 July 1999.
198 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
199 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
200 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Tom Carlin, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
201 Dedina, p. 38. Chuck Quinn quoted.
202 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
203 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
204 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 27 July 1999.
205 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
206 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Chuck “Gunker” Quinn, 18 July 1999, Imperial Beach Pier Plaza.
207 Dedina, 1994, p. 38. Dorian “Doc” Paskowitz quoted.
208 Dedina, 1994, p. 38. Bill Hadji quoted.
209 Surfer, Volume 39, Number 3, March 1998.
210 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, July 19, 1999. John mentions Arizona, but it was probably Texas.
211 Knox, Jim. Email to Malcolm, 23 November 1999.
212 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jim Voit, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
213 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jim Voit, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
214 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jim Voit, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
215 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jim Voit, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
216 Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with Jim Voit, 18 July 1999, Ye Olde Plank, Imperial Beach.
217 Elwell, John. Email to Gary Lynch, 23 November 1999.
218 Elwell, John. Email to Gary Lynch, 23 November 1999.
219 Voit, Jim. Letter to Malcolm, July 19, 1999.
220 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 27 July 1999.
221 Baker, Lloyd. Letter to Malcolm, 5 October 1999.
222 Voit, Jim. Letter to Malcolm, July 19, 1999. Seealso Elwell, Email to Malcolm, July 19, 1999.
223 The Surfer’s Journal, Volume 6, Number 4, Winter 1997
224 Surfer, Volume 39, Number 3, March 1998.
225 McClure, Vance “Bud.” “The 60’s Sloughs Crew: Dempsey Holder Recruits the Locals.”
226 McClure, Vance “Bud.” “The 60’s Sloughs Crew: Dempsey Holder Recruits the Locals.”
227 McClure, Vance “Bud.” “The 60’s Sloughs Crew: Dempsey Holder Recruits the Locals.”
228 McClure, Vance “Bud.” “The 60’s Sloughs Crew: Dempsey Holder Recruits the Locals.”
229 McClure, Vance “Bud.” “The 60’s Sloughs Crew: Dempsey Holder Recruits the Locals.”
230 McClure, Vance “Bud.” “The 60’s Sloughs Crew: Dempsey Holder Recruits the Locals.”
231 McClure, Vance “Bud.” “The 60’s Sloughs Crew: Dempsey Holder Recruits the Locals.”
232 McClure, Vance “Bud.” “The 60’s Sloughs Crew: Dempsey Holder Recruits the Locals.”
233 McClure, Vance “Bud.” “The 60’s Sloughs Crew: Dempsey Holder Recruits the Locals.”
234 Tracy, Terry “Tubesteak”. Email to Malcolm, 16 September 1999.
235 Elwell, John. Email to Gary Lynch, 27 August 1999.

236 Elwell, John. Email to Malcolm, 5 September 1999.

1940s: Pioneers in a Changing World

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[draft second chapter of volume four: LEGENDARY SURFERS: 1940s]


The 1940s – especially after the war – marked the transition from “The Pioneers” to a whole new generation of surfers, some of whom took off from where their elders had left them and some who just marked new tracks in the waves, themselves. The surfing pioneers had been the ones who took surfing and made it into a modern lifestyle. These were guys like “the Father of Modern Surfing” Duke Kahanamoku, innovator Tom Blake, Whitey Harrison, 1930s champion Pete Peterson, paddling legend Tarzan Smith, surf photog extraordinaire Doc Ball, Canoe Drummond and others of their age less well known.


Duke Kahanamoku (1890-1968)


In 1936, Duke had been elected Sheriff of the City and County of Honolulu. A largely ceremonial position. “He was a shoo-in candidate,” wrote Duke biographer Grady Timmons, “elected to thirteen consecutive two-year terms – often without campaigning and more than once while he was not even in the Territory of Hawaii. Being sheriff required him to run the jail, issue summonses, and act as coroner, but for the most part the job was honorary and paid little.”[1]

“After a day at the sheriff’s office, Duke headed for the beach. He rode the surf when it was up, went for long swims when it was not, and played surfboard polo and volleyball at the Outrigger Canoe Club. Duke was forever breaking records for athletic longevity. Up until he was fifty, he rode big surf along with small, and up until 1950, when he turned sixty, he was Waikiki’s best canoe steersman. During the 1940s, he guided the Outrigger Canoe Club to seven straight championship seasons.”[2]

“Long before his days as a competitive athlete were over,” Timmons wrote, “Duke stepped gratefully into the role of being Hawaii’s unofficial ambassador. Whenever there was a famous person in town – a movie star, a king, or the President – Duke would always take him for an outrigger canoe ride.”[3]

A “great change… took place in Duke’s life while he was sheriff,” emphasized another Duke biographer, Joseph Brennan, referring to the entry of Nadine (Nadjesda) Alexander into Duke’s life.[4]

“Nadine was the first child of vaudeville performer George B. Alexander and the Australian opera singer Olive Kerr,” surf writer Sandra K. Hall wrote in a Longboard magazine obituary for Nadine in 1997, “and grew up as a ‘showbiz’ child with natural talents as a pianist and dancer. She had moved to Honoluluin 1938 to teach Latin and ballroom dancing to ‘high society’ at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel. Shortly thereafter on WaikikiBeach she first met Duke…”[5]

“Nadine Alexander was a worldly and sophisticated dance instructor at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel when Duke married her in 1940,” Timmons explained. “At the time he proposed, he told her that she would be marrying a poor man. Later she confessed, ‘I didn’t know then how poor he really was.’”[6]

“Very soon after they began dating,” Brennan wrote, “Duke was wholly enchanted. She was fair and beautiful, dancing into his skull at night. She laughed a lot – deep, bubbling laughter. When he looked at her his heart rolled over. By this time Duke’s hair was iron gray, but he still had his golden smile and athlete’s body.” She was about 17 years younger than Duke. They married on August 2, 1940, just a few days before his fiftieth birthday.[7]
“Nadine was good for Duke,” assessed Joseph Brennan who helped him write his autobiography. “She gave him the balance he needed and the freedom he could not do without.”[8]

After the war, Duke’s life became slower-paced, in keeping with his age. In 1948, he did one more Hollywoodmovie, the Wake of the Red Witch and in 1950, he licensed his name to an aloha-shirt manufacturer in an attempt to “finally attain some financial status.”[9]
Entering his sixth decade, “What time he could spare from his duties” as sheriff, “was spent in the surf.” In 1950, the Outrigger Canoe Club threw “Duke Kahanamoku Day” on his birthday and had the biggest party in the club’s history, to that point.[10]

“Even when his physical ability started to wane because of his age,” 1960s world champion surfer Fred Hemmings recalled, “he excelled because of his knowledge of the ocean and what he was doing. I’d watch him surfing when he was older. He was always at the right place at the right time. He always caught the good wave.”[11]

Duke’s wave knowledge covered the wide spectrum of surfing, outrigger canoeing, and body surfing. Duke confirmed that many of the breaks now commonly associated with surfing were first tested by body surfers.

Duke and friends would “body surf, like, Waimea and Sunset and those places… once in a while we used a board, but very seldom. And we don’t think of carrying a board with us because it’s kinda heavy and so we take a ride around island and look at these waves. And some of those waves on… the north side is terrific. And Waimea – we used to go down there and ride body surf all the time.”[12]

“Did you use fins?” Meaning, was this after 1935?

“Oh sure,” Duke confirmed, adding how they used to do what we would call an “El Rollo,” today. “I used to come down and twist right like a seal and come right in and then bodysurf. We used to go down to Makapu because it’s much heavier and stronger [for bodysurfing], you see. And we used to get these waves and twist right around and get on our back and then right side up and then come right in on the waves.”[13]

By this time, the gravitation from the southern breaks at Waikiki to the powerful big western break of Makaha had taken place, lead by Hot Curl surfers like Wally Froiseth, Woody Brown and George Downing. In the mid-1960s, Duke was asked about the difference between the north, west and south shores of O’ahu. Duke gave a glimpse of what it was like to ride big waves in the early days. He had both respect for the later generations of surfers and a reverence for Makaha, which had become the major big wave spot by the late 1940s and early 1950s. From Makaha, surfers moved on to the NorthShore in the 1950s:

“Well, I tell you,” Duke said, “you see they run in seasons – summer, the waves are terrific out here (Waikiki) and it’s very quiet on the north side. And just the other way – when it’s rough over there it’s smooth on this side. But the waves over there on the north side are terrific.

“You speak of Makaha. Makaha – we used to ride them, but we never rode the boards like the boys are doing today [middle 1960s]. These chaps are catching waves right in the middle of the dog-darn breaks and then they go straight down and then they get mixed up with the foam. But, what we used to do in those days was we used to sit close to the edge and every time we caught the wave we slid off without having to get mixed up in the foam. And that’s how we used to ride it (Makaha) either to the right or left. And these boys who ride them now, well, they just ride them like – ah, well – they’re just wild! They’re going all over. They’re going way beyond us in riding these trick boards [balsa or foam].”[14]

“You speak about these boards,” Duke continued, talking about the Malibu boards that came out in the early 1950s. “The first [Malibu] board I tackled was Peter Lawford’s board when Peter first came to Honolulu. He brought this board – and I see a picture of Peter right here, now – and we swapped boards right out there at Canoe surf. I took one wave and it was kinda tricky… Well, I thought I better stick to my own solid board, which is steadier and easier to manage. Well, I said to Peter, ‘you better give me my board and you take your board back.’ And that’s the swap and that’s the last time I ever rode on these tricky boards they have [now].”[15]

Duke continued to talk about the early days at Makaha, in the 1940’s, when the guys rode it without board fins:

“When we rode in those days, we had no skeg. And, as I say – why – we used to catch them on the edge. As a matter of fact, if you were in the center, then maybe the skeg would help so you won’t skid. But, I don’t know, sometimes I get into the middle of it and – not too good, I get mixed up – but, I don’t slide off, like a lot of people think that they’d skip and go spinning around. No, you just slip down and… get dumped off.”[16]

Asked about the worst wipeout he could remember, Duke answered:

“Gee, the worst wipeout I had, I think, was right out there outside the Public Bath… The waves were big that day. I dunno, about 25-feet I guess. And they were coming fast, one right after the other. And [on this one particular set of waves] I thought I was [done with the rest of] my life. I got caught in these waves and, geez, I took my breath and, gee, I thought to myself the only way I can save myself is not to struggle, not to fight the wave and just, well, just be cool and just figure not to give too much effort; just sit and wait for the waves as they come in, and just duck as they doggone hit you, and just hold your breath before you do that. And, then if you go under, five or six feet, it’s nothing under there. The whirlpool is not that deep. I mean the water pool. It doesn’t go down any deeper than four or five feet. So, if you get underneath that, you’re safe and these waves go by. Well, this doggone wave – these waves were coming in so fast that I was almost ready to call help and I said, well, I better hang on and God will help me and keep me afloat and then I’ll be all right. And that’s what happened.”[17]

Duke was asked about how they handled gremmies – beginning surfers – back when he was actively riding. “You old time surfers have many wonderful courtesies toward fellow surfers,” the SURFER interviewer said and then asked, “What, for example, would you do for a young fellow who came out and maybe couldn’t handle it?”

“Well,” Duke answered, “we older fellows – we’d make it a great thing to take care of these kids. The youngsters – we would send back into shore. I know a lot of the boys. Tough Bill, my brothers, and many of these fellows – they’d come out and we’d know they can’t handle the big waves, so we’d send them back in shore.

“And we’d say, ‘you stay there until you’re big enough and then you come on out.’ I’ve seen that done. And when they got a little older, and after three or four years experience out surfing in the canoe, they got out by themselves and we let them go. But, we always tried to take care of – don’t care who they are, malahini [tourist, non-Hawaiian] or anybody. And every time we see them getting into difficulty in handling the board or got into the wrong spot, we used to tell them, ‘you go over there, or you go over here, which is easier for you.’ And, they would take a lot of the information we give them and that’s that.”[18]

“Well,” Duke added, “to me I think we have to teach a lot of these kids first to be gentlemen; gotta be clean cut youngsters, you know; and keep the rule and never get in trouble; and try to help one another; and not try and hog the doggone waves, you know. There are so many waves coming in all the time, you don’t have to worry about that. Just take your time; wave come, let the other guys go, catch another one. And that’s what we used to do. We see a fellow’s coming in and we see some other fellow there first, we say, ‘now you’re here first, you take the first wave’ and that’s what we used to do.”[19]



Tom Blake (1902-1994)


Even by the Second World War, the two most influential surfers were Duke – whose rise in surfing began shortly after the turn of the century – and Tom Blake, who came along about twenty years after Duke began.

Between 1939 and 1942, Tom was still shuttling between the U.S. Mainland and Waikiki. He even put in some time with the motion picture industry in Paramount Pictures’ Devil’s Island (1939) and Wake Island (1942).[20]Afterwards, he enlisted in the U.S. Coast Guard, despite being forty years old. He didn’t have to enlist in the Coast Guard, but he did so because, as he put it, “it was the thing to do.”[21] Everyone was pulling for the war effort in the ways they thought they could make their best contributions and, for Tom, it was involvement in the ocean in some way. He enlisted as a temporary reservist on August 27, 1942 and after boot camp and training, he was sworn into the U.S.C.G. regular reserve. Shortly after that, he was appointed a squad and then a platoon leader. He continued to rise in the ranks for the duration of his enlistment, at one point commanding a company of 54 men.[22]

Tom’s Coast Guard work amounted to coastal watch in California and WashingtonState and handling explosives. He left a two-page log of his various tours, written on the inside pages of his Bluejacket’s Manual. These pages document that he first went to boot camp in Wilmington, then to San Clemente Island, California. He spent the fall of 1942 and part of the winter of 1942-43 at Point Arguello, finishing the winter at Port Hueneme. At the beginning of the summer of 1943, Tom developed pneumonia and was hospitalized. Afterwards, he went to DogAdministrationSchoolin San Carlos, where he graduated and then went on to serve at the Naval Air Base in Oak Harbor, Washington, in September 1943. From there, he went for training at Ault Field in CloverValley. Later, in command of forty men and twenty dogs, he established a beach patrol at SwiftBeach, located on the Rosarita Straits, in Puget Sound. Early in 1944, he took charge of the kennels at OakHarbor and was stationed at the Naval Air Station on Whidbey Island. In early summer, he was assigned to the explosive detail at Alamedaand San Francisco. From there, he went on to explosives loading in Richmond by the end of the summer.[23]

“Knowing the beaches so well,” Tom said, “that’s how I got in… As usual, I took my work too seriously… Most everyone else was trying to get away from the Draft [meaning combat duty]… [My advice to you:] Don’t take it too seriously [anything]; spread it out… I worked day and night. I looked over 40-to-50 men; sent them out on patrols and checked to see that they were on patrol… Later on, we got in on the ammunition loading,”[24] which “used to scare the hello out of me,” Tom admitted.[25]

While serving in the United States Coast Guard for three years during World War II, Tom not only gained training handling dogs and expertise in “the unloading of captured Japanese ordinance,” but also taught swimming and ocean rescue.[26]Because of a Headquarters’ ruling on over-age discharges, all enlisted men over the age of 42 were allowed to return to civilian life in the summer of 1945. It was thus that, at the age of 43, Tom received his honorable discharge on July 7, 1945, in Long Beach, California.[27]

As soon as Tom was done with his military service, he headed for the beaches: first, Waikiki; then Palos Verdes, in Southern California, and then Miami Beach, Florida. A Honolulu newspaper clipping noted his return to civilian life: “Also returning home Sunday was Tom Blake, who has come back ‘to do some surfing’ after an absence of five years. It was Mr. Blake who developed the hollow surfboard about 15 years ago, and for devotees of the sport who have found surfboards among the ‘shortages’ of these past years, he brought good news.

“‘I can promise that we’ll have a supply of boards here soon – and at reasonable prices,’ Mr. Blake declared. He added that wood is still scarce but that satisfactory boards are now being fashioned of plastic [fiberglass] and aluminum. For the past three years, the local man has served with the coast guard from California to Alaska. He was released from the service a few months ago with the rating of specialist, first class, and said he plans to remain in Hawaiiindefinitely.”[28]

For most people, “indefinitely” means for a long time – not so for Tom Blake. Through the rest of the 1940s, he logged time back on the Waikiki Beach Patrol, but also put in summertime work in various aquatic roles at Palos Verdes.

The Palos Verdes peninsula is as unique as Waikiki, in its own way. Situated between Santa MonicaBay and SanPedroBay, Southern California, it had once been an island during pre-historic times. Uplift of the land mass, combined with sedimentation in the Los AngelesBasin, caused the island to be connected to the mainland. As a result, a series of thirteen distinct marine terraces rise in succession from sea level to 1,480 feet. In the 1800s, the peninsula comprised the rancho of the Sepulveda family. It was later developed in the 1920s as an elegant subdivision of residential estates, incorporating as the City of Palos Verdes in 1939.[29]

The San Pedro News-Pilot recapped Tom’s association with Palos Verdes in a 1949 article: “At Palos Verdes peninsula, Blake is back on familiar ground. He was in charge of recreation and swimming at the Palos Verdes Estates Swimming Club in 1941 and 1946. During the war he served with the U.S. Coast Guard aboard an ammunition transport.”[30]

Three articles Tom wrote in the late summer of 1947 give a more detailed picture of his work at Palos Verdes in the late 1940s. He was mostly headquartered at Malaga Cove on the northeastern-most part of the peninsula, which is closest to the city beaches of Torranceand Redondo.

In “‘End of Season’ Swimming Pool Notes,” Tom recaps the summer, writing: “Signs of fall have appeared at Malaga Cove. A large flock of wild ducks circled the bay the other day and headed south; one of those clear days when the distant Santa Monica Mountains seem so close and the sea so blue. The ocean temperature dropped 70 degrees to 68 degrees, and the pool water from 79 degrees to 73 degrees. The season has brought many carefree, happy hours to the children of Palos Verdes. Some have added inches to their height and chest measurements, due in part to the deep breathing and stretching required by swimming. Well-fed and full of fire, they descended on the pool every day, each seeking a means of expression suitable to his age and experience. Some indulged in plain and fancy diving off the one-meter board; groups of a half dozen played tag by the hour. Tossing an unsuspecting person into the tank gives a great degree of satisfaction to the older boys but it is all in the spirit of fun and a girl feels neglected if not thrown in.”[31]

Tom went on to write about the “Mile Club” and the subject of dedication: “Still others swim laps, 52 or more, to make membership in the ‘Mile Club.’ This is a considerable feat, as evidenced by those who fail to swim the required distance… A handsome perpetual trophy is being readied to be given to the boys or the girls; whichever has the most ‘Mile Club’ members.”[32] In describing the Mile Club in more detail, Tom wrote in a subsequent article: “The latest fashion at the Palos Verdes Swimming Pool is to achieve membership in the ‘Mile Club.’ This is an honor group, each of who must swim a mile to qualify. There are no strings attached, and with this goal in mind, kids who never had the incentive to swim the full length of the pool are now navigating a full 52 lengths or more, thereby gaining a greater measure of health and physical benefit that inevitably accompanies a vigorous swim in the open air.

“Boys and girls, some only 10 years old, have seen fit to make the club and various means of locomotion are resorted to in covering the distance. Means include the standard crawl and back strokes, with and without fins. The fins are definitely an asset to any swimmer, not because of the added speed but because they encourage swimming distance by making it easier to move through the water. Many have not been content with swimming one mile but have gone on to strive for a pool record. Mike Eaton and Walter Tilley, ages 12 and 13, have made the longest swims to date. Mike swam an even five miles while Walter chalked up three and a half miles. The rivalry is just beginning and indications are that Walter will slim down a bit before he accepts defeat. The charter members of the ‘Mile Club’ are: Stevie Voorhees, Walter Reese, Jr., Jack Burton, Skeet Stevens, Peppy Peppard, Eddie Riley, Mike Eaton, Buddy Long, Walter Tilley, Mike Neushul, Bill Hadley, Tom Blake, Corky Bjorklund, Peggy Stenzel, Rita Kennedy, and Louise Hastrup.”[33]

Tom’s third article from the end of the 1947 summer was entitled “Swimming Pool Closes After Successful Season,” and it was printed in the Palos Verdes News, September 1, 1947. “An unusually enthusiastic crowd attended and took part in the Labor Day races at the Swimming Club,” he began, “to finish the season with a sunny summer day that topped a perfect record of such days for the months of June, July and August. While highways and public beaches were jammed with city dwellers, the residents of our community found plenty of room to relax and cool off at the club, as well as enjoy seeing the children display their swimming prowess.

“Winners of the mile club cup for 1947 were decided three minutes before the deadline of 1:30 o’clock, when young George Powloff came through with the deciding mile swim, giving the boys 38 members to the girls 37. The girls will have another chance next season, as the trophy will be up again in 1948, the Lord willing. High mileage prize, a gold medal, went to Mike Nushul, age 13, for his total of 25 miles. Mike had the making and temperament of a future champion swimmer, if he gets the breaks. Jack Burton was second, in spite of hard luck, a recent three-day illness, with a total of 22 miles for the season. Ken Gardner won third medal with 7 miles. Other high milers among the boys were: Skeets Stevens, 6; Mike Eaton, 5; Walter Reese, 5; Ebbie Rechtin, 4; Walter Tilly, 3 ½; Corky Bjorklund, 3; Ed Hiesman, 3 in the pool, and an undetermined number in the ocean. It was 2 miles for Buddy Long, Stevie Voorhees, Bill Stewart, and Buzzie Thompson. With the girls, high miler was Virginia Lane with 3 ½ miles; Prusilla Eaton, Margot MacKusik and Louise Hastrip, 3 miles; Rita Kennedy, Leslie Ann Lebkicker and Joan Williams 1 ½ miles. This made a total of 150 miles; it all adds up to health, strength of body and character to those who did the swimming.”[34]

In his writing of pool competition, Tom referred to the importance of keeping to “the golden rule.”[35] That Golden Rule was the one most of us, hopefully, live by: Do unto others as you would want them to do unto you. In his later years, especially after the war, Tom lived by the true Christian ethic, more than many church-going Christians did then and now. He was an example of a man who came to face life head on and was at peace with it. He made other comments akin to the Golden Rule, such as “Don’t say anything if you do not have positive comments,” or “They are doing the best they can, with what they have.” He would also say, “Stick your head up and somebody will take a shot at it.” Tom’s meaning was clear: if one becomes too vocal about certain issues, he should be prepared to pay a price.

Tom’s domain was the Malaga Cove beach and the Roessler Memorial Swimming Pool, a salt-water pool built in 1926.[36] The area had been one of the cradles of Southern Californiasurfing in its earliest days. Just next door to Palos Verdes, Redondo Beach, beginning in 1907, had been where George Freeth had demonstrated surfing the most and built up a core group of lifeguards and surfers that later helped pollinate the rest of Southern California.

By the mid-1930s, just to the west of Malaga, Bluff Cove became the prime spot to ride particularly large waves. It was even sometimes referred to as “Little Waikiki”[37]and became a favorite spot of those early Southern California surfers who were members in the Palos Verdes Surfing Club. By the late ‘30s, some of the men regularly surfing Bluff Cove included: Pete Peterson, Tulie Clark, Gard Chapin, Bud Morrissey, LeRoy Grannis, Doc Ball, Adie Bayer, E.J. Oshier, Grant Leonhuts, Jim Bailey, Johnny Gates, Al Holland, Fenton Scholes, Jean Depue, Hornbeck, Jim “Burhead” Drever, Hal Landes, Hal Pearson, Johnny Dale, Art Alsten and others like Tom Blake.[38]

Tom was certainly not the only surfing innovator the 1940s produced. Another was Jamison Handy, who remains relatively unknown to this day. Tom first met Jam Handy when Handy was an Olympic champion, many years before in Detroit, just before Tom began his life as a surfer and wanderer.

“It was [later] in California[before the war] that he got into some surfing,” Tom said of Handy. “I was making boards then and he come to me for a board and I sold him a board. It was a good board, too, a big tandem board. It was very heavy, though. And then he built his wife a balsa board, which is very light, so she could carry it down the Palos Verdes Cliffs. They used to drag’em [the redwood boards] or put’em on their back [in a sling].

“And that board he made for his wife was balsa and very soft. Every time she’d use it, it’d get a ding in it. He [Tom’s emphasis] got the idea to cover it with fiberglass. He knew about fiberglass before it even hit the [West] Coast [after the war]. He sent the board back to some friends of his – back East [on the East Coast of the U.S.] – who had fiberglass. And that was the first fiberglass board ever made. A lot of our guys have claimed that, you know, but he was the first.”[39]

In 1949, Tom made a switch from the Palos Verdes Swimming Club on the north side of the peninsula to the Portuguese Bend Club, further to the south. “Tom Blake,” wrote one sports columnist from the San Pedro News-Pilot, on April 11, 1949, “former national distance swimming champion and inventor of keeled surfboards and hollow paddleboards, is the new director of recreation and swimming at Portuguese Bend Club on Palos Verdes peninsula. Blake, who was with the Waikiki Beach Patrol in Honolulufor 10 years, was national 10-mile swimming champion in 1922. That same year, swimming for the Los Angeles Athletic Club, he finished second to Johnny Weismuller in the sprint and middle-distance events… For the past two years, he has been with the Waikiki Beach Patrol.

“At Portuguese Bend Club, Blake will teach and coach swimming and will be in charge of all swimming and recreational events, including pool swimming, surf and paddle boarding, sailing, shuffleboard, paddle tennis and croquet. Blake is planning club swimming and paddleboard races for the Fourth of July weekend. Blake developed the hollow paddleboard in the middle 1920s while working in Honolulu. He still holds the basic patent on the board, which has largely replaced the far heavier solid paddleboard. In 1935, Blake invented the keel-like stabilizing fin for surfboards. He also developed the aluminum torpedoes now used by beach lifeguards for rescue work. He reduced the weight of rescue torpedoes from 10 to two and three-quarters pounds.”[40]

Tom continued with the Portuguese Bend Club through the summers of 1949 and 1950,[41] but he did not stay with the job beyond that. He said it was because he “couldn’t stand to see kids in trouble every day,”[42] meaning children who would get in the pool without learning to swim, first.

If people who knew Tom or knew of him thought he was “out of the game,” traveling between Palos Verdes and Hawai’i and doing little else, they found themselves highly mistaken on the morning of Sunday, June 20, 1948. It was on this day that Tom made a dramatic paddle across the Golden Gate, the opening to the sea from San Francisco Bay, California. The board he rode was a Bob French hollow that Pete Peterson had reshaped. The environment in which he paddled was a very swift-moving and dangerous current.

Following his feat, one San Francisco newspaper publicized: “Surfboard Ace Plunks Across Golden Gate in 13 Min., 45 Sec.” The article went on: “Tom Blake who twenty-odd years ago was national long-distance swimming champion, returned to old scenes here from Hawaii one day last week with an idea to sell. He sold it yesterday by paddling across the Golden Gateon a twenty-pound surfboard. (Nup, no oars.) Blake’s idea was that the Red Cross convention here might be interested in use of the paddleboard for rescue work. Cal Bryant, the organization’s national director of water safety, who looked on from the bridge as Blake plunked his way through more than a mile of choppy water in 13 minutes 25 seconds, said afterward that it looked like a good idea to him.”[43]

Tom returned to Waikiki during the non-summer months of the second half of the 1940s and also visited Miami. Floridasurfer Dudley Whitman recalled that “Tom… had a hotrod,” a really well-built machine, in the years immediately after World War II; the machine was probably bought with his savings from the Coast Guard service. “I don’t think he ever did any of the construction himself, but he usually had an unusual vehicle of some type. I visited him when he was a lifeguard at the Palos Verdes Club in Palos Verdes… I didn’t really spend hardly any time with Tom in Hawaii. But… [at one point,] he was going to Hawaii with us, and we were driving out [across the U.S.] in a 1936 convertible with two surfboards on top. Of course, in those days you made your own surfboard rack. The car happened to be a convertible and we drove the whole way with the top down. We had to take a solemn oath that we wouldn’t allow three to sit in the front for insurance reasons. When we got, I think, to about New Orleans, Tom had had enough of riding in the back, and he decided that he would go it alone... We parted good company and he said he would make his own way. I guess he didn’t like driving 90 miles an hour, which was pretty fast in those days, and sounds kind of irresponsible. But, I guess at 17 years of age, and a brother who was four or five years older, those kinds of things could happen. I’ll never forget, he [Tom] had a beautiful, tremendous telescope.” Tom had been scanning the horizon and viewing the night sky for many years. “He made me a present of it at that time. We were good friends and we had a lot of fun; had a lot of experiences together.”[44]

Blake returned to Waikiki.

“In the early days, as I remember it,” Tom put his post war return to Waikiki into perspective, “the most important surfer, and the most important admired surfer, and the hero of all of us was Duke, on account of him being an Olympic swimmer and so forth. He had brothers who were also good surfers, Sam and Sergeant. [His brother] Louis surfed, of course, and brother Little Bill. Also, in the early days, after… the ‘Kahanamoku Period,’ George Downing was one of the most outstanding surfers that I remember. He had no fear of the surf, small or large. He could ride any kind of surf, small or large. And there was Scoop Tsuzuki, who took the first big surf camera pictures over there. And there was Don James, with his long lens taking pictures. And Woody Brown, who developed the catamaran, which was not new, because the early Hawaiians came to the Islandsin catamarans. But he developed a small one, about fourteen feet long. I remember he took me out on a ride on it and I was astonished at the speed of it. It was very fast. Woody would go up and down the beach… He’d ask somebody if he wanted a ride in his catamaran for a dollar. He made a few dollars that way. It was really worth it. It was absolutely astonishing the speed of that thing. Finally, Woody got the idea of commercializing on it and he built… a big one, forty feet long, and he took passengers out from Waikiki. They would go out in the deep water, way out around Diamond Head. He made a good living at it. Others started to copy it, and finally Joe Quigg started making catamarans, made some good ones. Joe was a great photographer, incidentally...”[45]

When Tom returned to O’ahu, he again “made boards under the Waikiki palm trees” and also engaged in “night surfing and swimming. My main work was obtaining food and shelter.”[46]“We used to pull on an old wool, tight fitting sweater at Waikiki, in March, when the cool trade winds whipped off shore around Diamond Head.”[47] It was during this period that he made a koa calabash cup for the Hawaiian paddling championships. “Carved it out of a solid block of wood,” Tom noted, “and hoped it would stimulate paddleboard racing between Californiasurfers and Hawaii. Do not know who has it now.”[48]

Tom recalled some notable rescues he made at Waikikiafter the war:

“1) Henry Lum, on a big surf day at Waikiki. Henry went out about 10:00 A.M. with Wally [Froiseth], George [Downing] and others. To Public. Henry was lost. He finally drifted in (Ewa side) by 5:00 P.M. way outside Popular break. A big set got him, but he managed to hold his board. He was about gone. I saw him through my big glasses from the Moana balcony. I got out my big Kalahuewehe board and went after him. Reached him outside First Break. He said, ‘I can’t get in.’ I put him aboard my fourteen foot board, turned his board loose, and made the Outrigger Club. Henry was cold, stiff and incoherent. Put him in a hot shower and he revived. His board was brought in by another surfer.”[49]

“2) Scoop Tsusuki (photographer). Got outside First Break, Waikiki, on a big day. Then, got tired and frightened and could not get back in. As usual, in the afternoon. I was watching from the Moana 7th floor balcony with my glasses... I spotted Scoop, watched him awhile, got my fourteen-foot board and went after him. Picked him up at First Break and made it in through the waves; his board brought in by another. He was very grateful for the assist. So was Henry.”[50]

About Tom’s famed board Kalahuawehe, California lifeguard, surfer and paddler Tommy Zahn said, “He was still riding that in 1951, when I was down there [at Waikiki]. It was cedar. It looked like it was a Rogers, except it was all cedar. 14-feet, 23 ½-inches wide…”[51] Tommy continued: “Did he ever tell you what he did to it? You won’t believe this. I guess he was sentimentally attached to it, because he decided he was going to go to a short board, so he cut the thing down to 11-feet and all he used [from the original] was the deck and he built a completely new fiberglass hull underneath it. But he still used the same deck made of cedar. One of his experiments.”[52]

Of all the Blake manufactured boards, Tommy Zahn liked the Rogers the best. “The Thomas Rogers… were the best I have ever seen,” he wrote, noting the “‘Tom Blake Approved’ brass drain plug positioning and ‘Hawaiian Paddleboard’ stenciled on the nose. I think these were the most beautiful (and desirable). I, myself, had the ‘Streamlined Lifeguard Model’ that I used for training and in actual lifesaving at my station… The Catalinas and L.A. Ladder Company models… are inferior to the Mitchells and Rogers. Ironically, Tom realized more royalties from Catalina and L.A. Ladder than all of the others… Every high school woodshop had the Popular Mechanics plans…”[53]



Preston“Pete” Peterson (1913-1983)


The number one surfer in California, Preston “Pete” Peterson was shaping and selling surfboards when the U.S.entered World War II. The boards “he sold shaped for the price of thirty-five dollars,” recalled surf photographer Don James. “Units sanded and coated with five coats of Val Spar Marine Varnish went for a few dollars more… Pete liked to drop his girl off at the tile factory in Malibuand then surf the break all day. At five o’clock he would paddle back in and chauffeur his lovely girlfriend back home.”[54]

When the United States entered World War II in 1941, Pete initially got a deferment because he was married and worked in public safety. However, Pete’s marriage to his first wife Arlene was not successful and while in the middle of the rocky marriage, he was inducted into the U.S. Navy, on February 18, 1943.

By June, Pete had passed all his training in San Diego, testing well due to the fact he was already an accomplished waterman. Because of his lifeguard lieutenant experience and being skilled at handling small craft, Pete was sent to New Orleans to qualify as a Ship Fitter, with the non-commissioned rank of Petty Officer Third and Second Class.[55]

Pete completed the New Orleanstraining and took a two-week leave to visit his son in Santa Monica. Santa Monica’s Captain Watkins reinstated him at the beach for five days so he could earn a little extra money and while there Pete took young Matt Kivlin with him to ride Malibufor Pete’s last surf session before going back on duty with the Navy.[56] This may have been Kivlin’s first taste of Malibu, the break whose style master he would become.

Pete went back to train in New Orleans and earned his Petty Officer First and Chief. By November 1944, he had completed both the Navy’s demanding Diving School, its Firefighter’s School and Velocity Power Tool School, going on to qualify as a Diver Second Class.[57]

Pete again had a short leave back in Santa Monica where he lifeguarded for a few days and then shipped out on the U.S.S. Pandemus bound for the Philippine Islands. By March 1944, the U.S. Navy was operating out of Olongapo in Subic Bay in the newly liberated Philippines. Pete was stationed there as well as on board, anchored off the islands of Saipan, Iwo Jima and Okinawa. His skills were in high demand and his crew of fitters and divers worked around the clock, often times right next to other crews removing dead bodies from the areas to be worked on. If the repairs were successful, the ships are put back in action. If not, they were sent back to Subic for further fixing. Pete was responsible for heavy repair work, often working underwater, also helping to remove bodies, welding in hard-hat diving gear under conditions so difficult he would never talk about them afterwards. “My dad never spoke of the war,” attested his son John, “even about his service.”[58]



Gene “Tarzan” Smith (1911-1986)


Sometime before the United States entered World War II, legendary paddler Gene “Tarzan” Smith came to know a son of the Alexander Hume Ford family who owned a yacht named the Altair. While Gene was on a long distance sailing trip on the Altair, a devastating storm struck. One of the crewmembers was lost, along with all belongings, and the yacht disabled. Fortunately, the remaining crewmembers, including Tarzan, were rescued by another ship and towed to Pago Pago. In New Zealand, without passports or money, Gene was taken in by the mother of noted actor and swimmer Jon Hall. He resorted to boxing as a way to earn money which eventually got him to Australia and then back to Hawai’i.[59]

Gene was married twice while at Waikiki– briefly both times, not surprisingly. His first marriage started off this way: due to his brawny good looks and water skills, he was able to land some small movie parts as a swimmer. While doing that, he met – amongst others – his first wife Evelyn Thorn, whom he married in 1937. Evelyn was a movie starlet of the time and notable for having taken the place of Faye Raye in the movie Tarzan. It’s possible that this may have been a contributory factor to the popularity of Gene’s nickname, but that is just conjecture on my part. At any rate, Gene’s marriage to Evelyn lasted only a short time.

Later, he met Katharyn Agness Billhardt when she was vacationing in Honolulu. They met and got to know each other for a short time before she had to go back to the U.S. Mainland. Not long afterwards, Katharyn returned aboard the steamship Lurline and Gene even paddled out to greet her. When her affluent father heard that his daughter planned to marry the infamous Gene “Tarzan” Smith, he threatened to disown her. Undaunted, she married Gene in 1941, anyway. She probably should have listened to her father, as the two divorced after only two years together.

Gene had just turned 30 when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. Switching from the beach to the pavement in an amazing twist of fate for a brawler, Gene got a job as a policeman in the Honolulu Police Department. While there, he became close friends with the sheriff. No doubt for other reasons as well, Gene ran afoul of his own fellow policeman by not only being the one haole on the force, but also the one closest to the sheriff.

One fateful night, Gene took a date to the Royal Hawaiian Hotel and later dropped her off at home. While the night was still young in his mind, Tarzan went to a downtown bar for a few drinks with the sheriff. After the sheriff went home, Gene continued to drink until drunk. Four of his fellow H.P.D. officers caught him in an alley outside the bar and beat him brutally, breaking his jaw, one of his legs and causing a severe concussion to the head. It took four of them to do all this to a wasted Tarzan. Gene ended up in the hospital for a number of months and, according to his family, never fully recovered. His sister Phyllis said that this episode caused him to become deeply paranoid and schizophrenic from that point on.[60]

A local restaurant owner named Spence Weaver cared for Gene during his recovery and let him live on his boat moored at Ala Wai harbor. Gene had taught Weaver’s two sons how to surf.[61] A local attorney took up Gene’s case and sued the Territory of Hawaii successfully. Gene was awarded lifetime care, including medical, dental and lodging.[62]

With lifetime care awarded him but a life nevertheless severely beaten, Tarzan’s trail grew faint after World War II. It was not a short trail, but one of a good forty years more – most of which we know very little about. It was a time when the man who was a mystery even to his friends perhaps became a mystery to himself. Throughout the three decades spanning the early 1950s into the early 1980s, he remained a legend to those who knew of him and a loner to those who actually knew him.

It would appear that the first part of his remaining three decades was spent around Honolulu and the later part back in Southern California, where his life at the beach had begun.



“Doc” Ball (1907-2001)


On April 19, 1941, less than a year before the United States entered the war, Doc married Evelyn Young, an attractive registered nurse. Their first child Norman was born in 1942 and their second child John Jr. followed in 1943.[63]

“When the United Statesdeclared war in December 1941,” wrote Gary Lynch, “it broke the back of the California surfers’ life-style. The Californiasurf clubs disbanded and almost every able-bodied man enlisted in the armed services. Many of the fascinating personalities of the 1930s would never be seen again. The war took some of the best men surfing had to offer, leaving a trail of waste and broken dreams. If not for the persistent efforts of Doc with his camera we may never have known what the life and times of the first wave of California surfers was like.”[64]

World War II certainly “Shut it out for a while,” Doc agreed. He, himself, joined the Coast Guard and became ship’s dentist on the U.S.S. General Hugh Scott, AP136. “His photographic skills soon became known,” Gary wrote, “and he was given a new Speed Graphic camera. As the official ship’s photographer he photographed much of the South Pacific.”[65]

“During September 1944,” Doc recalled a memorable moment during the war, “I got a big surprise. While I was out on the South Pacific someone said the new issue of National Geographic had my surfing photographs in it. Sure enough, there they were.”[66]

Doc credits Owen Churchill for helping provide some enjoyment during those war years, through his invention of the Churchill swim fins. “He was the one that did it,” Doc told me when I asked him if it was Frank Roedecker or Churchill who first invented the swim fin. “He [Churchill] came over here during World War II and I got acquainted with the guy. I got a couple of original fins from him.” He invented the swim fin “just before World War II,” Doc added, saying, “I think he was more of a diver than a surfer. He was of French origin, I believe… We’d take ‘em [swim fins] aboard ship. When I’d get out into that hot water of the South Pacific, why, I’d go diving and swimming and riding a wave or two; body surfin’. They were somethin’ else!”



“Granny” Grannis (1917-2010)


Just before the war began, at age 23, Granny got a job as a laborer at Standard Oil in El Segundo and worked his way up to boilermaker. In his free time, he continued to surf until World War II blew the entire Californiasurfing scene apart.[67]

“We were down at the beach on December 7 of 1941,” Granny vividly remembers much in the same way a later generation surfer might remember where he or she was when we first landed on the moon or terrorists attacked the WorldTradeCenterand the Pentagon on 9/11. “A whole bunch of us down there, right next to Hermosa Pier. I don’t what we were doing; playing volleyball or something. All of a sudden – somebody had a radio – and we heard over the radio that the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor and we all looked at each other and we knew that nothing would ever be the same. Eventually, just about all of us ended up in one branch [of the armed forces] or another.”[68]

In 1943, while his brother Don patrolled Malibu as a Marine, Granny joined the Army Air Force and trained to be a pilot. Toward the end of the war, he became a flight instructor. After the war, he toyed with becoming a commercial pilot, but opted to go back to Standard Oil. He then went to work for Pacific Bell Telephone, where he worked in management for 31 years before retiring in 1977.

Meanwhile, Granny and Katie had a family on their hands, which meant that surfing and hanging out at the beach became less of a priority than raising four kids.[69]



E.J. Oshier (1916-2007)


E.J. Oshier once told me proudly that San Onofre before the war was a “… procession of parties and surfing.”[70]

The “golden years” at San Onofre are generally considered by ‘Nofre veterans to have been between 1936 and 1943,[71] when the area was owned by Rancho Santa Margarita and leased as a fishing camp. “Back then it was part of Rancho Santa Margarita,” a later Nofre regular Stan King recalled, “and a guy named Frank at the Texaco station charged us a quarter to get in. We usually snuck in, and he’d swipe our clothes while we were out surfing and hold them until we paid the two bits.”[72]

“Believe me,” emphasized E.J., “Back before the war, at the [Palos Verdes] Cove and at San Onofre, the Aloha Spirit was very prevalent. Everybody knew everybody. Your friends were out in the water with ya! There weren’t that many other people. And, so everybody got along, rode their waves and went in and got a jug of wine or a guitar or ukelele and that was a good day.”

“Now, again, the Palos Verdes group were entirely different,” from the San O group, E.J. again emphasized. “We [in the Palos Verdes Surfing Club (PVSC)] used to have an annual dance, a ‘Hula Luau’ we called it… The San Onofre group would never do anything like that cuz they didn’t want to act as a group. They just wanted – they were all independent spirits and they didn’t want any part of an association type thing. Yet, they got along as well as the more formal PVSC guys. It was just a different approach.”

“Well, you know, I’m the kind of guy – if I like somebody, I can make them like me pretty well. And I really, really liked the PVSC guys… But, also, I could switch over to that crazy ‘Nofre bunch which were pretty goofy, you know. There were a lot of wild things [that went on].”[73]

“I was really unique – in a true sense – being a pivot,” E.J. said. “In the winter, I’d be exclusively with the PVSC guys and have a wonderful time and love ‘em all. Then, when summer came, I was down ‘Nofre and I was buddies with everybody down there and everybody loved me and I loved them. But, none of the other guys seemed to switch back – you know, have that ability to be right at home with both groups. That really was, I think, unusual… I got the best of both worlds.”[74]





[1] Timmons, 1994, p. 32.
[2] Timmons, 1994, p. 32.          
[3] Timmons, 1994, p. 32.
[4] Brennan, 1994, pp. 185,187 and 188.
[5] Longboard Magazine, Volume 11, Number 12, May/June 1997. Obituary by Sandra K. Hall. Nadine passed away on July 17, 1997.
[6] Timmons, 1994, p. 33. Nadine Alexander quoted.
[7] Brennan, 1994, pp. 185,187 and 188.
[8] Brennan, 1994, p. 189.
[9] Brennan, 1994, p. 195.
[10] Brennan, 1994, p. 201.
[11] Timmons, 1994, p. 32. Fred Hemmings quoted.
[12]SURFER Magazine, mid-1960’s interview with Duke Kahanamoku.
[13]SURFER Magazine, mid-1960’s (1963) interview with Duke Kahanamoku.
[14]SURFER Magazine, mid-1960’s (1963) interview with Duke Kahanamoku.
[15]SURFER Magazine, mid-1960’s (1963) interview with Duke Kahanamoku.
[16]SURFER Magazine, mid-1960’s (1963) interview with Duke Kahanamoku.
[17]SURFER Magazine, mid-1960’s (1963) interview with Duke Kahanamoku.
[18]SURFER Magazine, mid-1960’s (1963) interview with Duke Kahanamoku.
[19]SURFER Magazine, mid-1960’s (1963) interview with Duke Kahanamoku.
[20] Newspaper clipping, May 19, 1942, “Waikiki To ‘Wake’”. Tom hand wrote on it: “June 1942.” This section on Tom Blake taken from TOM BLAKE: The Uncommon Journey of a Pioneer Waterman.
[21] Lynch, Gary. Thomas Edward Blake Interview, April 1988. Tom’s notations.
[22] Blake, Tom. “Log of Thomas E. Blake, Sp. 1/c, U.S. Coast Guard,” Tom’s short personal log.
[23] Blake, Tom. “Log of Thomas E. Blake, Sp. 1/c, U.S. Coast Guard,” Tom’s short personal log.
[24] Lynch, Gary. Interview with Tom Blake, June 26, 1988.
[25] Lynch, Gary. Interview with Tom Blake, June 26, 1988.
[26] Lynch, Gary. Biographical Sketch of Tom Blake. Tom’s own written notation.
[27] Blake, Tom. “Log of Thomas E. Blake, Sp. 1/c, U.S. Coast Guard,” Tom’s short personal log.
[28] Honolulu newspaper clipping, “Tom Blake Back,” 1945.     
[29] California Coastal Resource Guide, ©1987, State of California, p. 302.
[30] San Pedro News-Pilot, “Portuguese Bend Club Names Blake,” April 11, 1949, p. 9.
[31] Blake, Tom. “‘End of Season’ Swimming Pool Notes,” pubication “the News” unknown. 1947.
[32] Blake, Tom. “‘End of Season’ Swimming Pool Notes,” pubication “the News” unknown. 1947.
[33] Blake, Tom. “Swimming Pool has ‘Mile Club’ Activity,” publication unknown, August 14, 1947. Mike Eaton went on to become a renowned paddler and shaper.
[34] Blake, Tom. “Swimming Pool Closes After Successful Season,” Palos Verdes News, September 1, 1947. Tom noted he was then Director of Pool Activities, working at a rate of $200/month, from June 15 to September 1.
[35] Blake, Tom. “Swimming Pool Closes After Successful Season,” Palos Verdes News, September 1, 1947.
[36] California Coastal Resource Guide, ©1987, State of California, p. 302.
[37] Ball, John “Doc.” Early California Surfriders, ©1995, p. 41.
[38] Ball, John “Doc.” Early California Surfriders, ©1995, pp. 39-64.
[39] Lynch, Gary. Interview with Tom Blake, July 25, 1988, Washburn, Wisconsin. The Florida connection may have been the Whitmans.
[40] San Pedro News-Pilot, “Portuguese Bend Club Names Blake,” April 11, 1949, p. 9.
[41] See Portuguese Bend Club, Rancho Palos Verdes, announcement May 1950.
[42] Lynch, Gary. Interview with Tom Blake, June 26, 1988.
[43] San Francisco newspaper clipping, newspaper unknown, June 21, 1948.
[44] Lynch, Gary. Interview with Dudley Whitman, May 10, 2000.
[45] Lynch, Gary. Interview with Tom Blake, April 16, 1989, Washburn, Wisconsin.
[46] Lynch, Gary. Thomas Edward Blake Interview, April 1988. Tom’s notations.
[47] Blake, Tom. Postcard to Gary Lynch, October 29, 1986, from Washburn, Wisconsin.
[48] Lynch, Gary. Thomas Edward Blake Biography Interview, April 1988. Tom’s notes.
[49] Blake, Tom. Letter to Tommy Zahn, p. 7.
[50] Blake, Tom. Letter to Tommy Zahn, pp. 7-8.
[51] Lynch, Gary. Interview with Tommy Zahn and Chauncy Granstrom, July 27, 1988.
[52] Lynch, Gary. Interview with Tommy Zahn and Chauncy Granstrom, July 27, 1988.
[53] Zahn, Tommy. Letter to Gary Lynch, June 2, 1988. Some Rogers boards had the drain plug aft, some in the bow. Most were on the bow.
[54] James, 1996, p. 136. Don’s written caption to Pete Peterson and Jack Fuller at the Venice Pier, 1940, on p. 95.
[55] This section on Pete taken largely from LEGENDARY SURFERS Volume 3. See also Lockwood, 2005-2006, p. 58.
[56] Lockwood, 2005-2006, pp. 58-59.             
[57] Lockwood, 2005-2006, p. 59.
[58] Lockwood, 2005-2006, p. 59. John Peterson quoted.
[59] Foster, Steven. “Gene ‘Tarzan’ Smith Pictorial Biography,” December 16, 2003. Power Point presentation. In Australia, John Hall’s mother, 30 years Gene’s senior, took him in until he could make it back to Hawai’i. This section on Tarzan is taken from LEGENDARY SURFERS Volume 3: The 1930s.
[60] Foster, Steven. “Gene ‘Tarzan’ Smith Pictorial Biography,” December 16, 2003.
[61] Foster, Steven. Email to Malcolm, January 3, 2004.
[62] Foster, Steven. “Gene ‘Tarzan’ Smith Pictorial Biography,” December 16, 2003. Some say Gene was let go by the Department because of how he roughly handled people in the line of duty. Given his personality, this probably went on to some degree, but was not the cause of his separation from the H.P.D.
[63] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[64] Lynch, Gary. “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[65] Lynch, Gary. “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989. See also Gault-Williams. Doc was very specific on the vessel number. He said he’d never forget it: U.S.S. General Hugh Scott AP136.
[66] Lynch, Gary. “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990. Doc Ball quoted.
[67] Photo: Grannis -- Surfing’s Golden Age, 1960-1969, ©1998, p. XII.
[68] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with LeRoy Grannis, Carlsbad, California, 26 June 1999.
[69] Photo: Grannis -- Surfing’s Golden Age, 1960-1969, ©1998, p. XII.
[70] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with E. J. Oshier, October 10, 1998.
[71] Cowell, 1994, p. 14.
[72] Longboard, Volume 4, Number 5, November/December 1996, p. 18. Stan King quoted. Two bits equals one quarter ($0.25).
[73] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with E. J. Oshier, October 10, 1998. E.J. mentioned there was one PVSC guy he didn’t get along with, but I didn’t catch the name.
[74] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. Interview with E. J. Oshier, October 10, 1998.

USA East Coast Begins

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USA East Coast Surfing Begins


When did riding wooden surfboards first begin on the East Coast of the United States? When did the first images of surfing appear and who were the first East Coast surfers?

The first printed image of a surfer on the East Coast is “The Sandwich Island Girl,” on the cover of the cover of the National Police Gazette of August 18, 1888.1 The second is a picture postcard from Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina, hand dated 1907. The first known surfers were Burke Haywood Bridgers at Wrightsville in the late summer of 1909 and Eugene Johnson in Daytona Beach, Florida, at the same time.

All four of these significant historical finds have been discovered in recent years by the same surfer and East Coast research/historian: Joseph “Skipper” Funderburg.2

Wrightsville Beach Postcards, 1907-1920s


With the exception of “The Sandwich Island Girl” etching in 1888, the earliest known image of a surfboard and surfer on the East Coast of the United States is the picture postcard of Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina, hand dated 1907.3

The postcard is a photographic view of a large crowd of people surf bathing on the ocean side of Wrightsville’s Sea Shore Hotel. The 1907 postcard clearly shows a surfer boy on a Hawaiian styled body board (keoe) or possibly short alaia.4

The postcard is entitled “The Sea Shore Hotel, Wrightsville Beach, NC.” In handwriting, the postcard sender wrote: “How about a swimming lesson?” and hand dated it March 24, 1907. “Based on the date, it’s pretty obvious the photo was taken during the summer of 1906 or before,” wrote East Coast surf historian J. Skipper Funderburg.5

Steve Massengill, author of A North Carolina Postcard Album, agreed: “the photograph could date a year or more earlier.”6

Massengill is considered an expert on the history of picture postcards, having worked in the field of non-textual materials as a public historian and having published several works in the field.7

“Prior to the days of automobile access,” detailed Skipper Funderburg, “the location is on the old railroad line at Station Three. The Sea Shore Hotel had a magnificent view out to sea and a gently sloping beach leading to the” Atlantic Ocean. “The hard packed sandy beach between the island and the sea provided the opportunity for guests to bath in the surf. Without question, the hoopla in the surf invariably crystallized around the nucleus of the oceanfront of the grand hotels, clubs and bathing establishments. We do not know exactly when surf bathers began to clutch wooden planks to their bodies and hold them before a breaking wave to hitch a ride to shore. We do know surfing in its earliest form was obviously occurring at this location. The wooden planks in the image confirm surfing was occurring on Wrightsville Beach in 1907, but more likely 1906 or before.”8

Three additional Wrightsville Beach postcards have been found; two hand dated and U.S. Postal Service stamped in 1909 and 1912 and a third estimated to have been printed in the early 1920s, showing body boarders surfing prone on body boards and at least one alaia sized board.

Wrote Steve Massengill: “it was not uncommon for postcard manufacturers to use the same negative when printing new postcards.” “One will see the same scene on various postcards with different dates and used on different style cards – undivided back and divided back, etc.” “The companies would use different coloring and sometimes add small details and crop out others.”9

“Postcard companies would hire photographers, either local or itinerant, to take pictures of tourist spots,” explained Funderburg. “Then the companies would produce multiple printed cards of photos in hopes of cashing in on tourists and vacationers mailing cards back to loved ones. North Carolina postcards were not prevalent until after 1906, and postcards prior to 1912 were printed in Germany. After 1912, postcards were printed in England and the USA, because of broken ties with Germany.”10

Wrightsville postcard hand-dated 1907:


Wrightsville postcard hand-dated 1909 and US Postal Service stamped:


A closer look:


Wrightsville Beach Postcard, hand dated and U.S. Postal Service stamped July 15, 1912:



Wrightsville Beach Postcard, early 1920s:


In the book Land of the Golden River, Vol. 1, published in 1975, local author Lewis Phillip Hall (1907-1980), wrote of his personal experiences surfing Wrightsville Beach. “In the early twenties (1920’s), before the jetties were constructed, a sand bar ran the entire length of the beach. We swam out to the combers where (it was) making up. At times there would be ten or fifteen youths in a crowd. It was a beautiful sight, ten surfers riding the cresting wave a long time... I'll have to admit, however, that we did not ride our boards standing erect, but lying halfway the board.”11

“Riding the Surfboard”


Back in the Hawaiian Islands, South Carolinian Alexander Hume Ford created and established the Outrigger Canoe and Surfboard Club at Waikiki, Hawaii, in 1908, to develop the “great sport of surfing in Hawaii.”12 

He also wrote about surfing itself. “Riding the Surfboard” was published in the August 14, 1909 edition of Colliers National Weekly, New York City, and read widely throughout the United States. In it, Ford encouraged readers to try the sport.13

Two particular people on USA’s East Coast immediately did so: Burke Haywood Bridgers, Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina, and Eugene Johnson at Daytona Beach, Florida. Likely, there were others, but these are the two we know a little bit about.

Burke Bridgers, Wrightsville, late August 1909


We know about Burke Haywood Bridgers because of a letter he wrote to Alexander Hume Ford. Not knowing Ford’s address, Bridgers wrote to him in care of Colliers. The letter was then “forwarded to the press -- Pacific Commercial Advertiser in Honolulu.”14

Bridgers’ letter was subsequently published in the Pacific Commercial Advertiser on April 2, 1910.15

“The illustrated articles on surfboard riding published in St. Nicholas and in Collier’s by Alexander Hume Ford,” a writer at the newspaper prefaced, “are still attracting attention in the east. Last summer a number of youngsters along the Atlantic Coast attempted to build surfboards, using the pictures in the St. Nicholas article as models.”16

In his letter, Bridgers asked Ford questions about surf boards and wrote about some experiences he and his friends had had at the end of the previous summer:

I was very much interested in your article entitled Riding the Surfboard, which came out in Colliers Weekly for August 14, 1909. During the past summer, we tried this sport to a very considerable extent, but did not meet with any great success, due to the fact the boards did not have sufficient supporting ability to carry the weight of a man, except when reclining at full length on the board.”17

“Of course,” Bridgers letter continued, “in this case, the body was more or less submerged and therefore buoyed up by the water. I do not know whether this lack of success was due to the type of board used or the character of the surf on the coast.”18

Bridgers continued: “Most of the surfboards used here were made out of juniper – a very light wood-an inch and a half thick, eighteen to twenty inches wide and from six to seven feet long.”19

“The Bridgers Family owned large, long established and well financed timber yards,” notes Funderburg, “so the timbers were probably harvested on their own land, and probably planed there.”20

“Junipers are Atlantic White Cedar (Eastern White Cedar),” Skipper also noted, “and their wood is a traditional favorite of boat and ship builders, as it is resistant to wood-boring worms. Carolina bays and swamps support vast quantities of Juniper trees.”21

Bridgers wrote to Ford: “These boards would invariably stop and sink in every case where the passenger attempted to stand upright, although the balance was frequently maintained. The most successful effort toward coming in erect, were by small boys under 100 pounds in weight.”22

Continuing: “The surf on this coast usually breaks within a hundred to a hundred and fifty yards of the shore, except in storms. So far no one has been able to force a board out beyond the breakers in stormy weather. A pier is now being erected, which during the coming summer will enable us to obviate this difficulty; and if the waves here are sufficiently large, or the wave speed sufficiently fast we should be able to do all that can be done in other places. If you can give me information on the following points, I will thank you very much.”23

Bridgers ended his letter with some specific questions:

“What is the thickness and weight of the usual Hawaiian surf board?

“Are these boards made perfectly straight on the bottom, or do they curve up at the bow and sides?

“Has anyone ever come in standing up in this country? What is the average height and wave speed in the Hawaiian Islands?

“Are the waves there ridden at all before they break, if so, generally how far?

“Has the experiment of launching these boards from a chute ever been tried?”

“Yours very truly, Burke H. Bridgers.”24

A Pacific Commercial Advertiser writer responded to Bridgers letter, that “Alexander Hume Ford is sending for a juniper board, and is informing the Wilmington, North Carolina correspondent that the board is just right, although the Waikiki boys now go for boards two inches thick and eight feet long, pointed at the bow and tapering slightly at the stern.”25

“Anyone who has learned to ride and stand on a board at Waikiki can perform the same feat elsewhere, but Hawaii is the only place where rollers form and roll for a quarter of a mile without breaking.”26

It is not known whether or not Ford wrote or contacted Bridgers subsequently.

In addition to the Bridgers letter to Alexander Hume Ford, there are area newspaper articles mentioning a surfing contest on Wrightsville Beach, at the end of the summer of 1909 and a Lumina Pavilion program guide for a surfing contest on July 4, 1910:

The Wilmington Evening Dispatch, on August 29, 1909, touted a surf board riding contest to be held at the Lumina Pavilion on Labor Day. Similarly, an article in the Wilmington Morning Star of September 1, 1909 described planned Labor Day activities that included “surf board sports, always interesting and entertaining for spectators.”27

In a 2014 interview “Laurence Gray Sprunt, former owner of Orton Plantation, recalled growing up next door to Burke Bridgers at Wrightsville Beach in the late 1930s and 1940s. Sprunt stated that Bridgers taught local boys how to surf and was the ‘original surfing leader.’”28 

From this, we can see that surfing -- at least seasonally -- became on-going activity at Wrightsville.

Burke Haywood Bridgers, 1903

Eugene Johnson and Wife, Daytona, 1909


At about the same time Burke Haywood Bridgers was making his surfboard in late August, 1909, Eugene Johnson was making his own at Daytona Beach, Florida.

Published on the social page of the Daytona Gazette-News, Florida, “Seabreeze and Daytona Beach” by Mrs. H. A. Bernard, August 28, 1909 documents that Eugene Johnson at Daytona was also inspired by Alexander Hume Ford’s “Riding the Surfboard” and built his own surfboard and rode it, along with his wife.29

“Eugene Johnson has recently constructed what is called a surfboard, and he and his wife had fine sport at the beach last Thursday afternoon riding the waves. It is a new wrinkle that is taking well with surf bathers. Eugene got the idea from Colliers Magazine.”30

Since the Daytona article was published Saturday, August 28 and the Collier's article was published on August 14, that means Bridgers and Johnson were surfing roughly about the same time on Alexander Hume Ford inspired surfboards.

So, in terms of knowing the names of people first surfing the East Coast, credit goes to both Burke Haywood Bridgers and Eugene Johnson and wife, in late August 1909. The earliest record of surfing in an area -- even if it might just be on a rental board from a bath house -- goes to Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina. Postcard evidence documents surfing activity there before and after Bridgers made his first board.

Significantly, we also have record of sustained surfing activity at Wrightsville from about 1906 onwards, which we don’t have for Daytona Beach or any other location on the East Coast. The personal recollections that Burke H. Bridgers continued to surf and helped others surf in the decades following separates it distinctly from Daytona or Virginia Beaches where surfing as an on-going activity did not begin until the early 1930s, with the arrival of the Tom Blake hollow board.32

Duke Kahanamoku, 1912-1919


Surfing remained virtually unknown on USA’s East Coast until “The Father of Modern Surfing,” Duke Paoa Kahanamoku gave his famous surfing and bodysurfing demonstrations on the Jersey Shore and Long Island, 1912-1919.

On his way back from Stockholm’s Summer Olympics in 1912, Duke stopped at the University of Pennsylvania, where he had first trained prior to going to Europe for the Olympics. While at Penn, he went down with some others to the Jersey Shore and put on demonstrations of swimming and surfing at Atlantic City and bodysurfing on Long Island, New York.33

Duke recalled that he did not board surf on Long Island in 1912. “I did bodysurf there [in New York, on Long Island] – Far Rockaway and Sea Gate and places like that. But the boards – I never had a chance to carry a board or anything like that… in 1912, after I came back from the Olympics... I came back to Philadelphia… I was training there with George Kistler of the University of Pennsylvania… I came back and then I went over to Atlantic City and rode the board there (laughs) and the water was, well – water was all right [it was probably much colder than he was used to]. And then I… [took] that doggone board. I’d carry it on the pier and then throw it off the pier. And, you know, those piers down at Atlantic City there [are] very high. I used to chuck this doggone surfboard off the pier and into the water and then jump or dive and picked up the board and then ride them by the side of the pier.”34

After 1912, Duke Kahanamoku continued his surfing ambassadorship along the Atlantic East Coast, during his time with the Red Cross, as part of the war effort.35

“I was part of a group of aquatic stars organized into a unit with the Red Cross for the purpose of touring the Continent and Canada,” explained Duke. “We put on water sports exhibitions before vast crowds to collect revenue for relief for the war wounded... I demonstrated surfboard riding at Castles-by-the-Sea, the Long Island resort started by Vernon Castle, the great dancer of that era. A big storm was blowing, but we were on limited time and we wouldn’t be back; so it was then or not at all. Cold was the word! But the gods smiled down upon me, for I didn’t have to sit my board for long. I caught a giant swell and roared in all the way to shore at express train speed. The throng on shore loved it.”36

“Some instruction followed, then a lot of advice on how to build boards – and the seed was planted there. Surfing took hold...”37


1 LEGENDARY SURFERS: “Sandwich Island Girl, 1888” at http://www.legendarysurfers.com/2017/01/sandwich-island-girl-1888.html
3 J. Skipper Funderburg email to Malcolm, 28 March 2017. See also discovery information from 25 December 2009 at http://www.carolinabeach.net/surfing_history_changed.html
4 J. Skipper Funderburg email to Malcolm, 28 March 2017. Image courtesy of New Hanover Public Library, Robert M. Fales Collection. Seehttp://www.carolinabeach.net/surfing_history_changed.html. Image also online at: http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GVlZeIEdT0M/S0zfj5F-49I/AAAAAAAACDo/IQ9xtMCJsWo/s1600-h/1907%20WB%20Surfing%20Postcard.jpg
5 J. Skipper Funderburg email to Malcolm, 28 March 2017. Image courtesy of New Hanover Public Library, Robert M. Fales Collection. Seehttp://www.carolinabeach.net/surfing_history_changed.html
6 J. Skipper Funderburg email to Malcolm, 28 March 2017. Steve Massengill quoted. Seehttp://www.carolinabeach.net/surfing_history_changed.html
7 J. Skipper Funderburg email to Malcolm, 28 March 2017. Seehttp://www.carolinabeach.net/surfing_history_changed.html
8 J. Skipper Funderburg email to Malcolm, 28 March 2017. The hotel was built in 1892 with a steel pier added in 1910. The site presently is the location of The Blockade Runner Resort. Seehttp://www.carolinabeach.net/surfing_history_changed.html
9 J. Skipper Funderburg email to Malcolm, 28 March 2017. Steve Massengill quoted. Seehttp://www.carolinabeach.net/surfing_history_changed.html
10 J. Skipper Funderburg email to Malcolm, 28 March 2017. Postcard validated and authenticated by the North Carolina Division of History and Archives, Raleigh, North Carolina. Seehttp://www.carolinabeach.net/surfing_history_changed.html. Image also online at: http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GVlZeIEdT0M/S0zfj5F-49I/AAAAAAAACDo/IQ9xtMCJsWo/s1600-h/1907%20WB%20Surfing%20Postcard.jpg
11 LEGENDARY SURFERS, 15 February 2009. Lewis Phillip Hall quoted; “combers” meant “breakers” and “making up” probably meant “macking up.” Source: http://www.carolinabeach.net/surfing_history_changed.html
12 LEGENDARY SURFERS, 8 May 2009: “Alexander Hume Ford” at http://files.legendarysurfers.com/blog/2009/05/alexander-hume-ford.html
13 Ford, Alexander Hume. “Riding the Surfboard,” Collier’s National Weekly, Volume 43, Number 21, 14 August 1909, with photographs from the author. Ford also had another surfing article with pictures published in August 1909, in St. Nicholas Illustrated Magazine for Boys and Girls, article entitled “A Boy’s Life in The Pacific.”
14 Funderburg, J. Skipper. “Critical Textual Analysis of the Burke Haywood Bridgers Letter & Comments,” 31 March 2015.
15 Pacific Commercial Advertiser, Honolulu, Hawaii, 2 April 1910.
16 Pacific Commercial Advertiser, Honolulu, Hawaii, 2 April 1910.
17 Pacific Commercial Advertiser, Honolulu, Hawaii, 2 April 1910. Burke Haywood Bridgers.
18 Pacific Commercial Advertiser, Honolulu, Hawaii, 2 April 1910. Burke Haywood Bridgers.
19 Pacific Commercial Advertiser, Honolulu, Hawaii, 2 April 1910. Burke Haywood Bridgers.
20 Funderburg, J. Skipper. “Critical Textual Analysis of the Burke Haywood Bridgers Letter & Comments,” 31 March 2015.
21 North Carolina Highway Marker Program, North Carolina Department of Cultural Resources, Marker ID D-116, “Pioneer East Coast Surfing,” updated 28 March 2017: http://www.ncmarkers.com/Markers.aspx?MarkerId=D-116. See also Funderburg, 31 March 2015.
22 Pacific Commercial Advertiser, Honolulu, Hawaii, 2 April 1910. Burke Haywood Bridgers.
23 Pacific Commercial Advertiser, Honolulu, Hawaii, 2 April 1910. Burke Haywood Bridgers.
24 Pacific Commercial Advertiser, Honolulu, Hawaii, 2 April 1910. Burke Haywood Bridgers. Image of a chute in “source file 33,” Funderburg.
25 Pacific Commercial Advertiser, Honolulu, Hawaii, 2 April 1910.
26 Pacific Commercial Advertiser, Honolulu, Hawaii, 2 April 1910.
27 Wilmington Evening Dispatch, August 29, 1909 andWilmington Morning Star, September 1, 1909 cited in description of Marker D-116, “Pioneer East Coast Surfing,” updated 28 March 2017: http://www.ncmarkers.com/Markers.aspx?MarkerId=D-116. See also: Lumina Program for July 4, 1910 Athletic's Event.
28 North Carolina Highway Marker Program, North Carolina Department of Cultural Resources, Marker ID D-116, “Pioneer East Coast Surfing,” updated 28 March 2017: http://www.ncmarkers.com/Markers.aspx?MarkerId=D-116. See also Funderberg, 31 March 2015.
29 J. Skipper Funderburg email to Malcolm, 27 March 2017.
30 Bernard, H.A. Column published in the Daytona Gazette, 28 August 1909.
33 Lueras, Leonard, 1984, p. 96.
34 Kahanamoku, 1968, pp. 36-37.
35 Gault-Williams, LEGENDARY SURFERS Volume 1, 2005. Chapter on Duke.
36 Kahanamoku, 1968, pp. 36-37.
37 Kahanamoku, 1968, pp. 36-37.

Surf Sessions, 1778-1899

Freeth, Ford and London

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Geoff Cater of Surfresearch.com has detailed the relationships between George Freeth, Alexander Hume Ford and Jack London. Geoff brings up a number of little-known details, plus the idea that George Freeth may have been the first surfer on the USA East Coast. For more, please read on...

Geoff's original April 2017 posting is located at: http://www.surfresearch.com.au/sFreeth_George.html


George Freeth
IntroductionThis paper was prepared in April 2017 following comments and feedback resulting from posting a 1907 photograph of a Californian surfer by L.M. Robin on the Surf Blurb in March.

I am indebted to 
Joel T. Smith for his three articles Re-Inventing the Sport, Part 1: Jack London, Part 2: Alexander Hume Ford and Part 3: George Freeth, published in The Surfer's Journal, Volume 12, Numbers 1- 3, 2003. Many thanks to Jeremy Lemarie, Joel T. Smith, Gary Lynch, John Mazza, and Cary Weiss.
Warning: Contains adult themes.

George Freeth, Alexander Hume Ford and Jack London, Waikiki, 1907.

While Jack and Charmian London and Alexander Hume Ford were touring Oahu by automobile in 1907, two surfing photographs appeared in the Honolulu press, along with an article headed Freeth Will Ride Atlantic Rollers!
Ford and the London's had 
recently met George Freeth, who was currently the surfing instructor at Waikiki's Seaside Hotel, when they began surfboard riding, identifying him as as one of the local experts.
Published on June 23, 
the photographs had been commissioned by Ford at end of May.and the copy was, undoubtedly, his work.In addition to reporting Freeth's intention to surf on America's east coast, Ford revealed how Freeth had already done so.
Although this is the only known report of Freeth surfing the east coast before 1907, 
the article's exorbitant detail has led some to question Ford's tale in its entirety.However, as Freeth was in Philadelphia in 1904 it is possible that he did ride a surfboard at Atlantic City and, given that city's life-saving brigades were firmly established by the time, that his efforts would likely have made the life-savers mad.

George D. Freeth was born on Ohau in 1883, his father, part-Irish and variously named Captain or Governor George D. Freeth, traversed the Pacific principally engaged in exploiting guano deposits.
His 
part-Hawaiian mother, Elizabeth K. Freethdescended from a long established local family,.The family was familiar with Hawaiian society; in  February, 1892.they attended her Majesty Queen 
Liliuokalani's fancy dress Children's Ball at the Royal Palace.
George
, aged 9, was a very proud soldier-like Zouave in a red jacket and yellow trousers and his brothers, Willie and Charley, dressed as the two Princes in the Tower.

George Freeth, Waikiki, 
May, 1907.
The family was also involved in Captain Freeth's Pacific enterprises.In May, 1894, Captain Jameson, the British brig L'Avenier, reported the death of Hans Holstein, a German,who was employed on Laysan Island by Captain Freath.(sic)

A newspaper account of the circumstances included a sketch of a house which is usually occupied by Captain Freeth and his family when they are on the island.Then, as now, it must have been a rare for a young boy to have his own Treasure Island.

The family connection with Philadelphia dates from 1897; at the beginning of October George's older brother, Charles, left Honolulu aboard the Miowera for Philadelphia where he has received an appointment In the Charles Hillman Ship Building Company, and by July 1900 Charlie had secured an enviable position in Cramp's ship yard.

In Honolulu
, two months after his parents separation in February, 1900, aged 17, George appeared at the second annual gymnasium exhibition of the Young Men's Christian Association; a junior competitor was Ernest Kopke who would later vie with Freeth for swimming honours.A student of the lolani College, George was listed as one of the sub-editors.of first edition of the Ioiani College Magazinepublished in August 1900, and in November he played as goal-keeper for the College's:(Association) Football team; a journalist noting that Freeth is improving but does not appear to know the game.At the end of the month he played as a forward for the Iolani's, Ah Hun replacing him in goal.
The next year, Freeth was listed as an oarsman in the Freshman barge competing for the Mrytles, one of Honolulu's premier boat clubs, at Regatta Day on the harbourBy Independence Day, 1903, George was on the mainland's East Coast.

George Freeth, Waikiki, 
1907.
In Chester, Pennsylvania, George Freeth, a Honolulu boy, the son of Mrs. E. K. Freeth of Emma street, and a lineman of one or the telephone companies,  won the prize for fancy and high diving, and also swam 100 yards in one minute and six seconds, beating all competitors.
No doubt visiting with his older brother in Philadelphia, 
it is during his time that it is possible that George Freeth was chastised for riding a surfboard, even if only a small prone-board, at Atlantic City.

Celebrated novelist, 
Jack London , first arrived in Hawaii in 1904 for and at the end of June, like all visitors of renown, was given his first experience with a surf-ride at Waikiki by local expert canoe-surfers, Jack Atkinson and Col. McFarlaneBy October of that year, George Freeth was back in Honolulu, named as a member of the Healani Boat Club's swimming team to challenge the Myrtles.
In Hawaii during this period, team loyalty appears to be extremely flexible, with members often moving between clubs.
After leaving college, George Freeth excelled in athletics and water-sports.
In April 1905 he completed an 80-foot dive into Pearl Harbor, 
the distance was so great and the lights so tantalizing that water had to be thrown on the surface to stir it so that Freeth could see it distinctly before making the leap.
George Freeth, who will make the 80-foot leapApril 1905

Apart from regularly appearing in swimming and diving competitions, Freeth was 
appointed the swimming instructor at the Healani Boat Club and competed for them in boat races.
In November, 1906, he was chosen as captain of the newly formed Hawaiian Swimming Club.
On land, in October 1905 he made a home run for the Diamond Heads to beat the Makikis in baseball; he played quarterback for Maile in gridiron, and starred as a forward when the same team played Association football (Socker).
His surfing skills were first recognised in the local press on October 2, 1906, with a report that many witnessed George Freeth performing in the surf, at the Moana, on Sunday.However, while Freeth is listed in the swimming team of the Diamond Head Athletic Club for the second Waikiki Regatta, scheduled for the end of 1906, his name is noticeably absent from the entries for Surf-riding on Boards

Organised by 
Jack Atkinson, many expert board riders had entered; including  Harry Steiner, Curtis Hustace, Dan Keawemahi, Duke Kahanamoku, William Dole, Keanu, Dudy Miller, Atherton Gilman, Lane Webster, and James McCandless.
A lack of swell saw the Regatta postponed from New Year's Day until March 17, 1907, where the skills of Harry Steiner and James McCandless were praised.
But 
the three judges, E. P. Law, C. W. Macfarlane, and Olaf Sorenson, awarded top points to Harold Hustace, who stood on the board, head up and head down and as an extra turned a somersault or two.Three years earlier, in the spring of 1904, Harold and his brother Curtis Hustace were praised for using their surfboards to rescue a sailor at Waikiki; his face almost black from asphyxiation, the sailor was revived by being rolled over a barrel.About a  month later, Alexander Hume  Ford arrived from San Francisco aboard the Alameda on April 26 and booked intothe Royal Hawaiian Hotel in Honoluluthe Royal Hawaiian at Waikiki not opening until 1927.
Outrigger Surfboard Riders, June 1908.
Possibly Atherton Gilman, Lane Webster, Harold and Curtis Hustace.
Ford was a widely travelled professional journalist who had published articles based on his travels to China, Japan and Paris and, like Jack London, had previously visited Oahu.
It appears he had planned an short stay in the Hawaiian Islands before sailing for Australia, and Ford may, or may not, have been aware of the impending visit by a party of Congressmen from Washington.

Assuming he spent much of the first week in making himself familiar with the local dignities, politicians and press, Ford was probably pleased to read on May 2 that the Jack London and his second wife, Charrmian London, had left Oakland, California, two weeks ago.Jack's organisation and planning for their voyage across the Pacific aboard his 45-foot yacht, the Snarkhad already provided considerable copy for many newspapers.

It is also likely that Ford first became 
aware of George Freeth from an article published the following day in Honolulu's Evening Bulletin
Freeth had prosed that he and (Dude) "Dudy" Miller travel to Southern California, with a surfing canoe and surf boards, to give exhibitions of their skill.As this would be one of the best advertisements which Hawaii could possibly haveideally the Hawaiian Promotion Committee could help them with the cost of passage and the transportation of their canoe and boards.Ford and Freeth may have met during that week, but their paths undoubtedly crossed after the arrival of the Congressional party aboard the US Army transport Bufordlate on May 7.
Most of the visitors stayed at the Royal Hawaiian or the Young Hotel in Honolulu, but one Congressmen, W. P. Hepburn, was booked into the Moana Hotel at Waikiki.At the suggestion of Secretary Jack Atkinson, the Promotion Committee quickly arranged that morning for two or three canoes at Waikiki, in the charge of expert swimmers, kept at the disposal of the visitors.Initially requesting two days to recuperate from the voyage, the visiting Congressmen all expressed great eagerness to visit Waikiki beach and after lunch Sam Parker and Jack Atkinson took a regular band-wagon of committeemen to the beach by the street-cars and automobiles.
The Congressmen congregated at the Moana and three and four surfing canoes were kept filled, including some of the lady visitors, all the afternoon.

The boys were also out riding surf-boards so that all hands were treated to an exhibition of sport to which canoe surf-riding is second only.The journalist observed that the grave and reverend legislators of the Nation and the Territory became boys again- you can't help it when the surf is like that of yesterday.
At Waikiki the next day, May 10, a number stayed most of the morning to try the surf riding.
It was probably during this week, sometime between May 8-12, that Ford had his introduction to surfing andGeorge Freeth was photographed at Waikiki.
Three photographs were published before the end of the year in Ernest F. Acheson's Congressional Party in Hawaii
 Souvenir, May, 1907.
Captioned 
Champion Surfboard RiderFreeth is shown wave riding while standing and prone, and alongside his board on the Waikiki shore line.
This board's template is distinctive in tapering from a wide rounded nose, similar to some prone boards of the era.
Freeth used almost identical design when he first travelled to California, as shown in a photograph taken at Rendondo Beach, circa 1910.
The West coast board is poor condition with 
several cross-battens affixed to repair substantial vertical cracks in the nose of the board.
To compare and contrast contemporary surfboard templates, see Board Portraits.

    Waikiki, 1907.               Rendondo Beach, 1910.

On May 13, some of the Congressional party left 
Honolulu to visit Kauai, accompanied by George Freeth and A.H. Ford, who were probably by now well acquainted; their names appear together in the (non-alphabetical) passenger list, and they may have shared a cabin aboard the steamer Claudine.Apparently, Freeth was accompanying the congressmen as a life-guard to assist the visitors in water-sports, and he and Ford continued to travel with the statesman on their tours of the large island of Hawaii, and then Maui.

The Snark was off Waikiki by 
the morning of May 20 and anchored in Pearl Lochs, west of Honolulu, by the afternoon.
This was a disappointment for many locals who had hoped the famous author would have a far more public presence by mooring at the Honolulu docks.Beginning on the morning of March 21, Charmian London's Diary, published in 1917, records that Jack had already planned to moor the Snark in Pearl Lochs, with use of an cottage adjoining the home of Albert Waterhouse.The London's spent their first days ashore recovering from the voyage, organising repairs to the Snark, and reading a range of Hawaiian related literature.
The Snark moored in Pearl Lochs with Jack London ashore, 1907.
Ford, and presumably Freeth, did not return to Oahu until the 25th, arriving on the steamer Kirau from Hilo and way ports.
On May 27, Jack and Charmian travelled to the city by rail, lunched at the Young Hotel's roof-top cafe and, after obtaining two little bay mares from Mr. Roswell, rode back to Pearl Lochs.
Incidentally, Charmian
 rode astride her Australian saddle, assured in the knowledge that this style had been readily adopted by local female equestrians, which scandalised civilised ladies, who only rode sidesaddle.
The London's attended, along with three thousand other guests, a Royal engagement for the departing Congressional party at the home of Princess Kalanianaole at Waikiki on the evening of May 29, and the next morning the couple retuned to Waikiki on horse-back.
That evening they dined at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel in Honolulu where 
Alexander Hume Ford introduced himself and, after being invited to join their table, dominated the conversation for the next two hours.
Probably invigorated by his most recent exploits with George Freeth, he talked at length of his most recent enthusiasm, 
reviving the old Hawaiian sport of surf-boarding.Ford's vision of himself as the saviour of the ancient art is now embedded in surfing history.
In fact, interest in surfing in canoes and on boards at Waikiki had been steadily growing since 
the formation of the Hui Pakaka Nalu in 1897.
Crewed by native owners, managed by W. W. Dimond, 
a fleet of eight canoes offered the pleasure of canoe surfing to all. for $1.00 an hour.
By the turn of the century
 illustrations and photographs of surfing were regularly used to promote Hawaii tourism and appeared in books and newspapers around the world.The first modern surfing competition at Waikiki was held in March 1905, Bonine filmed surfing for the Edison Company in 1906, and just weeks before Ford arrived,Harold Hustace, from a field of at least ten skilled competitors, won the surfboard riding event.at the second Waikiki Regatta.Hustace, like virtually in all the accounts of surfboard riders since the mid-1890s, rode standing.

Aware that the London's had 
taken a cottage at the Seaside at Waikiki, Ford arranged to visit and show us how to use a board.He provided a suitably large board and after one day of instruction, both Jack and Charmian successfully rode prone on several waves.
Jack's enthusiasm,however, resulted in a severe case of sunburn and by June 4 he was confined to bed where he immediately began, with
 Charmian taking dictation, his landmark article, A Royal Sport.Published under the title Riding the South Sea Surf, this first printing was prefaced by a quotation by Mark Twain, that concluded none but natives ever master the art of surf-bathing thoroughly.
Fifty years laterLondon writes in glowing terms of the local natives' skill and style on the large waves breaking on the outer reefs of Waikiki.

Charmian and Jack London, Honolulu1907.
Integrating science and art, his analysis of wave motion theory, well known in scientific circles by 1867has been replicated, usually as chapter one, in numerous surfing books and is the foundation of modern surf forecasting services.
London's 
explanation of the basic dynamics of surfboard riding could be based on some of his research, or was perhaps collated from discussions around the beach, where it was understood that the wave lifts and pushes the board and rider slides down the glossy surface, yet never falling lower.The subject has only been reprised very occasionally, and usually with little further rigorous inspection.
Jack London relates how, with Ford's assistance, 
he learns to catch small waves on an inside reef close to the beach 
at Waikiki, and ride prone using his legs to steer.
Impressed, and envious, of the local experts who ride standing on the larger waves breaking on the outer reefs, the following day he and Ford venture out to a larger break, accompanied by George Freeth.

Whereas London accredits Ford with mastering surfboard riding in a matter of weeks and without the benefits of instruction, Ford later wrote that he learned from the small boys of Waikiki and that it took four hours a day to the sport for nearly three months.
Jack successfully rides prone on some larger waves, but now suffering from severe sunburn, the article concludes with him dictating from his bed and resolving to ride standing, like Ford and Freeth, before leaving Hawaii
While Jack London was dictating from his bed, it was announced that George Freeth was available for swimming and surfing lessons at the Seaside Hotel every day between 8:30 am.and 6 pm.Meanwhile, Ford had a long letter published in the local press calling for the produce and delights of Hawaii to be vigorously promoted to the world; the strength of his commitment to the Hawaiian cause demonstrated by undertaking baptism-by-surfboard:

Forgive me if I presume to write these lines as though I was an Hawaiian, but it is to me as though I am a kamaaina,
for I have learned to ride your native surf board, and in the memory of that victory and the toils and pains I accomplished it,
I may be fairly inscribed as one who has suffered sufficiently on your Islands to love them and sympathize with them.

Most of the Congressional party embarked for home aboard the transport Sherman on June 1 and the next day, a Honolulu reporter detailed some of the works in the Snark's library; which include the seventeen volumes London hawritten himself.
Not recorded, but most probably aboard were copies of Mark Twain's Roughing It! (1872), 
a recent book on oceanography, and Charles Warren Stoddard's South Seas Idylls (1873).

Following the piece about Jack London was reference to another well known magazine writer in Honolulu just at present, 
preparing articles for Outing magazine on surfing; this was undoubtedly Alexander Hume Ford, and the implication that he was "working" for Outing Magazine carried considerable weight, having just serialised London's latest novelWhite Fang.
In addition, to illustrate his work 
Ford had a series of photographs taken of George Freeth on a surfboard, the photographer suggested byTim DeLaVega (2011to be Edward P. Urwin.
Freeth's second appearance surfing for the camera, these can only be shot in the days following Ford's return to Honolulu from Hilo.on May 25, the first two weeks earlier for the visiting Congressmen.  

Ford was also reported as saying 
he was going to advocate is the introduction of surfing at Atlantic City, and had a picture of himself ... to show how easy it is.
However, the reporter noted that although the camera tells no lie, it failed to show the half-drowned Freeth under the board holding it steady while the bold and skilful rider balanced in a pose long enough for the photo to be taken.
T
hree weeks later, two of the photographs appeared in the Honolulu press, along with Ford's first article about surf riding.By June 11, Jack London had recovered enough to visit the Ewa plantation with his wife and Ford and then all three embarked on an extended tour of Oahu by automobile with a round of social events, including Jack's attendance at a boxing match.
From his arrival, Ford was aware of George Freeth's desire to relocate to California to pursue his career as swimmer, diver, surf-board rider, lifeguard, and as an instructor in all; and his
 first surfing article, apparently, served to advance Freeth's career.
Titled Freeth Will Ride Atlantic Rollers!it appeared in the Pacific Commercial Advertiser on June 23, with two photographs shot at the end of May, and was reprinted five days later by the Hawaiian Gazette.
Ford claimed that George Freeth was the only man Iiving who has ever surfed on the Atlantic coast and was now planning a return visit.
As discussed above, it is possible that George Freeth did ride a board at Atlantic City around 1904, and if so, it was then highly probable that he would have mentioned it to Ford, who had only recently announced his intention
 to advocate the introduction of surfing at Atlantic City.
However, in his re-telling of Freeth's adventures, Ford concocted a series of events that, especially for any local readers with some surfing experience, appears almost fanciful
; or, perhaps, even comic, in a misguided attempt  to emulate the style of his hero, MarkTwain.The story goes that George stowed away on a steamer to Atlantic City, shaped a surfboard from a woodpile when the cook wasn't lookingtaunted the local life-saversin a row-boats he rode standing on his head, zigzagged between the pier legs, and, for his efforts was apprehended by the police. But now, George Freeth had the support of some of the biggest athletic clubs of New Yorkthe Hawaii Promotion Committee, Jack London and Alexander Hume Ford, who has made George the central figure in the articles he has written for Outing magazine on "Surfing, the King of Sports."

Ford also stated that he had 
sent this photograph of George surfing, along with his article, tOuting. .
Copyrighted by Alexander H. Ford it had been pronounced the very best photograph ever taken of a surfer in actionFord having stood up to his neck among the breakers for days in order that he might be able to get a series of such photographs.
This was most probably one of photographs, pribably by Edward P. Urwin, that Ford arranged to be taken of George Freeth at Waikiki sometime after May 25, around the time of his first meeting with the London's in Honolulu, and before the event was noted in the local press on June 2.
George Freeth, Spinning in on a swift one, Waikiki, May, 1907

As surfing photographs had been in circulation since Dr. Henry Bolton first snapped surf riders on Niihau in 1890, not to mention the Waikiki footage filmed for the Edison Company by Bonine in 1906-7, the very best photograph ever taken of a surfer was a bold claim.
The projected article and the photograph of Freeth never appeared in Outing, although it did appear, along with some of George taken earlier, in Ford's A Boy's Paradise in the Pacificpublished (with different captions) in the, somewhat less prestigious, children's magazine St. Nicholas in August 1908.The second photograph appearing with the article, titled Surf rider balancing on the crest of a breaker, invites speculation that it is possibly the one Ford commissioned of himself to show how easy it is.
Certainly, given his involvement with the Congressional party, by the beginning of June 1907 Ford could only have been riding a surfboard for less than a monthperhaps giving some credence to the reporter's assertion that it failed to show the half-drowned Freeth under the board holding it steady.
However, a far more likely candidate is Keeping just behind the breakerpublished the next year in St. Nicholas.
While the rider appears to be probably standing on a board, he cannot be said to be riding a wave.


SURF RIDER BALANCING ON THE CREST OF A BREAKER 
Pacific Commercial Advertiser, June 23 1907.

KEEPING JUST BEHIND THE BREAKER.
St. Nicholas Magazine, 1908.
On June 30 it was reported  that that the London's were back at Waikiki.where Mr. London has become quite an expert on the surf board. However, while it was said that they will remain there for the remainder of their stay in Honolulu, the next day they departed for the leper colony on Molokai, returning to the grounds of the Seaside Hotel on the July 7.

While relaxing on Molokai, Charmian London's Diary records 
that some one recalled a story of Charles Warren Stoddard's, where the author and Joe talked about the old times, walking arm in arm, and arms about shoulders, in Sweet Lahaina.
The story of Joe of Lahaina appeared in Stoddard's South Sea Idyls, however, the London's may have had the English edition, titled Summer Cruising in the South Seas (1874)
Illustrated by Wallis Mackay, it was the first book depicting surfboard riders on the cover; as in many of her surfing illustrations, naked females.At one time Mark Twain's secretary, Stoddard visited the Hawaiian Islands four times between 1864 and 1867, and although only acquainted through correspondencehe and Jack have called each other Dad and Son for years; their recent correspondence including a  letter by Stoddard introducing Jack to Queen Liliuokalani.
Over a century later, it is impossible to know to what extent contemporary readers were aware of the book's homo-eroticism, including Jack and Charmian London, whose marriage had included open sexual experimentation.
Joe of Lahaina has a figure so fresh and joyous that I began to realize how the old Greeks could worship mere physical beauty.
Between house-keeping, and his regular visits to church, Stoddard takes time to counsel Joe on becoming a true and unterrified American.
Drewey Wayne Gunn (2016) notes one story where his companion, Kana-ana, again and again would come with a delicious banana to the bed where I was lying, and insist upon my gorging myself.
However, he does not comment on the, now, double entendre of cruising in the English edition's title, or on Stoddard's surfing companion on Maui, Kahele, who was the gayest of the gay, and the most lawless of the unlawful. 
A week after Ford had intimated that George Freeth intended to demonstrate surfing on the Atlantic coast, the press reported on July 3 that George, now designated probably the most expert surf board rider in the world, had sailed aboard the Alamedato give swimming and surf riding exhibitions on the Pacific coast.
Whereas Freeth had indicated 
earlier that he and "Dudy" Miller would travel to Southern California, with a surfing canoe and surf boards, he was instead, equipped with a supply of surf boards and accompanied by Kenneth Winter.
It is unclear if Ford's profile, published ten days earlier, or Freeth's association with Jack London, in any way assisted in obtaining financial support from the Promotion Committee, or anyone else, for Freeth and Winter's passage, and the transportation of their boards, to California.

After less than a month in 
California, Kenneth Winter returned  on August 8, and by mid-1908 he was elected the first captain of the Outrigger Canoe Club.
He later shared 
a controversial victory with Sam Wight at that year's Waikiki Regatta; riding long, heavy boards, they won easily; defeating the 1907 champion, Harold Hustace, who turned in vain on his diminutive board.
As a result of the victory, the journalist predicted that the fashion in boards will now turn to something long, thick and narrow.

George Freeth
Honolulu, July 1907.

On his departure, Freeth was said to have
 probably done more to revive the wonderful art of the ancient Hawaiians here at home than any other one person, the title aspired by A.H. Ford.
While Freeth
 was undoubtedly an outstanding athlete, swimmer, diver and surfer, there may have been some long-term locals who quietly questioned George's recent promotion as the most skilled board rider at Waikiki.
The London's visit to Molokai was followed by visits to some of the other islands by inter-island steamer, the Snark still undergoing repairs, but they returned to Waikiki in late July, and were invited to dine with Mr. and Mrs. Frederic J. Church and their guests, Mr and Mrs. Nicholas Longworth 
 
Mrs. Nicholson was better known as 
Alice Roosevelt, daughter of the serving President, Theodore Roosevelt,
Her husband was a Republican party leader, Speaker of the House of Representatives, and fourteen years her senior.

Staying for a month in the largest of the cottages at the Seaside, at the start of August the Longwoth's went canoe-surfing with Jack Atkinson, with crowds of spectators on the beach watching the canoe riding the crest of the waves.
This was not a new experience;
 during their first visit with the Taft party in mid-July 1905 they, along with then Secretary Taft, had riddenin outrigger canoes, courtesy of Jack Atkinson.During the Pacific voyage in 1905, Miss Roosevelt was, obviously, not short of attention.
Although Washington gossip had Longworth as her accepted suitor, Miss Roosevelt did not let that matter interfere with her enjoymentthe Hawaiian  press also noting Rhode Island's Stuyvesant Fish Jr. and Roger K. Wetmore , also visiting aboard S.S. Manchuriaalongwith locals Jack Atkinson and Walter Dillingham, as particular admirers of Miss Alice Roosevelt. 


Alice Roosevelt, c1904.

After canoe surfing at Waikiki, Aitkinson
 had mailed a fine collection of pictures of Miss Alice Roosevelt to the President, and in Honolulu there were high.expectations that they would appear in Collier's, Harper's, Leslie's and a number of newspapers all over the country.
However, despite his best  efforts to promote surfing at Waikiki, it appears none were ever published

Alice recalled Mr.Taft pleading with photographers not to take photographs of me in my bathing suit.
It was considered just a little indelicate, the idea that they might be taken and published.
And a bathing suit was a silk or mohair dress, not at all short, high-necked and with sleeves, and, of course, long black stockings! 
At the end of July 1905, the Chicago Tribune attempted to avoid offending the President by publishing a modest illustration, from a photograph, revealing the young lady's back and, despite Alice's recollection that she was wearing sleeves, one naked arm.It is impossible to identify anybody in one photograph from the Taft party's visit in 1905, a panorama of Diamond Head with several canoes sporting in small waves, held in the archives of the Smithsonian Institution.


Alice Roosevelt Enjoying the Surf in 
Hawaii on Her Way to the Orient.
(From a photograph)
Miss Roosevelt wielding a paddle while surf riding.
She is at the end of the canoe, on the right.Chicago TribuneJuly 30, 1905.




Canoes in the Surf, Waikiki, July 1905.
Alice in Asia: The 1905 Taft Mission to AsiaFreer Gallery of Art and Arthur M. Sackler Galleries Smithsonian Institution
http://www.asia.si.edu/research/archives/alice/

Jack Atkinson was also a guest the 
Church's dinner, at the Turkish room of the Seaside in early August 1907, for the Longworth's and London's; the later now guests of Mr. and Mrs. Lorrin A.Thurston until the sailing of the Snark for the south.
It is highly probable that the evening's conversation included a mutual appreciation of the joys of surf-riding.
As Jack London was a renowned Socialist, politics was very likely avoidedas was the President's recent public questioning of the author's account of a fight between a bulldog and a wolf.

On August 8, 1907, the Hawaii Promotion Committee was delighted to learn that Jack London's article on surf bathing in Hawaii would probably appear in the October number of the The Woman's Home Companion, a national magazine with a circulation in excess of half a million.Three days later, Alexander Hume Ford's extended account of the Hawaiian tour of the Congressional partappeared in The World Today.Repairs were completed and the Snark provisioned before Jack, Charmian, and their new crew, sailed for Maui on August 15.

George Freeth was now in California, the Snark was sailing around the Hawaiian Islands, and 
in mid-August, Ford also left Honolulu and was now cruising around the Fiji Islands.
There he surfed with the natives on Taveuni Island, although they merely hold a small board in their hands, and have never heard of anyone standing on the board.
Travelling by inter-island steamers, Ford continued on to New Zealand.and was in Australia by the end of October, 1907.
As such, it was  probably several weeks before he became aware of a glowing assessment of his achievements at Waikiki in The Pacific Commercial Advertiser of August 26; in three months Ford had become a proficient surfer, to a very considerable extent, and had imparted his enthusiasm to the community.
Just as importantly, he had formulated instruction in it: teaching others how to teach the acquisition of the art.
This success was even more impressive in light of the reporter's assertion that 
two or three years ago the feat of standing upon the surf board survived only in the power of two or three in the whole community.

After visiting several of the Hawaiian islands, the Snark sailed from Hilo for the Marquesas Islands on  October 7 and on the same day, 
under the heading Jack London Tells Of Surfingthe Hawaiian Star heralded the publication, along with some excerpts, of his eagerly anticipated surfing article that featured Freeth and Ford.
The question posed by the Hawaiian StarDid he stick to his intention to ride a surf board standing before he left in the Snark?, remains unanswered.
Initially appearing in The Woman's Home Companion under the title Riding the South Sea Surfthe following year it was reprinted in England by Pall Mall as The Joys of the Surf-Riderwith an illustration by P.F.S. Spenceand thereafter extracts appeared in newspapers around the world. 
In 1911, it was appeared as Chapter 7 in a collection of London's writings from the Pacific, The Cruise of the Snark, under the heading A Royal Sport, by which it is now commonly known.

P.F.S. Spence:
A young god bronzed with sunburn.
in
Nakuina, Emma Metcalf:

Hawaii, Its People
and Their Legends.

 Hawaiian Promotion Committee,
Honolulu, H.T., 1904.

Reprinted with Jack London's
The Joys of the Surf-Rider
Pall MallNovember, 1908.


London, Jack:
The Cruise of the Snark.

Macmillan and Company, New York, 1911

No stranger to controversy, Jack London stories continued to appear in the Hawaiian press.
Not for the first time, Jack's seamanship was questioned; one of the crew on the trip from Honolulu to Hilo complaining that everyone acted as captain, occasionally the cookbut most of the time it was Mrs. London in bloomers.

And from Hilo came news that Jack's cheques to some local merchants were being returned from his Oakland bank, endorsed not sufficient funds.
While it was generally assumed that the bad checks were a simple mistake in his calculations, there was some sympathy for the Hilo men with the missing coin.

Bank of Hawaii Ltd., Honolulu,13 August 1907 
E.O. Hall and Sons, $9.96, endorsed Jack London 
E.O. Hall and Sons was a large retail store on Fort and King Streets, Honolulu.

In the summer of 1907, in less than tree months, the combined talents of Freeth, Ford and Jack London left an indelible mark on surfing history.

Alexander Hume Ford was the first to return to Hawaii, arriving 
from Australia.on March 3, 1908.
In Sydney he was aware that the local surf life-saving clubs were agitating for 
prime beach-front club-houses, which possibly prompted his enthusiasm for a similar development at Waikiki, the Outrigger Canoe Club.
Ford managed to get a few 
more of his articles accepted by magazine editors but after 1911, his work was in constant demand in Honolulu, required for the pages of his self-published Mid-Pacific Magazine.
George Freeth was rumoured to be returning to Hawaii in 1909, but arrived on September 28, 1910, and competed in water polo and swimming competitions.Although A.H. Ford made a case for keeping the highly skilled professional surfer-lifeguard at Waikiki, he soon returned to the beaches of California.
Jack and Charmian London did not return to Waikiki until 1915 when they were welcomed by Ford to the now world-renowned Outrigger Canoe Club.

 
Waikiki, 1915. Mr and Mrs. London (center), A.H. Ford (right).

References
Source Documents
1872 Mark Twain : Roughing It. 1874 Charles Warren Stoddard : Surfriding in Maui.
1907 Newspapers : Swimming and Surfing.
1907 
Ernest Francis Acheson : Congressional Party in Hawaii.
1907 Jack London : Riding the South Sea Surf.
1908 Jack London : Aloha Oe.
1908 Alexander Hume Ford : Riding Breakers.
1908 Alexander Hume Ford : A Boy's Paradise in the Pacific.
1908 Alexander Hume Ford : Beach Culture in Sydney, Australia.
1913 Martin Johnson : Through the South Seas with Jack London. 
1915 Carroll Van Court and M. C. Merritt : George Freeth.
1916 
Jack London My Hawaiian Aloha.
1917 Charmian London : Surfriding at Waikiki 1907-1917.

1921 Lyba and Nita Sheffield ::Swimming SimplifiedBoard Portraits.
InternetGeorge Freeth
Laysan Island 
Alexander Hume Ford
Jack London
Charrmian London
Cruise of the Snark
Outing MagazineThe Woman's Home Companion
St. Nicholas Magazine
The_Pall_Mall_Magazine
Princess Kalanianaole
Queen Liliuokalani.Mark Twain
Charles Warren Stoddard
Wave motion theoryAlice Roosevelt
Alice in Asia: The 1905 Taft Mission to Asia
Theodore Roosevelt
Nicholas Longworth
William Howrad TaftOutrigger Canoe Club
Moana Hotel

Photographs


A Distinctive Hawaiian Sport
George D. Freeth, Champion Surfboard Rider, on the Breakers
Acheson, Ernest Francis: Congressional Party in Hawaii, May, 1907.
Observer Job Rooms, Washington, Pa., 1907

Alexander H. Ford :
George Freeth, Spinning in on a Swift One, 1907.As accredited when published in
The Hawaiian Gazette, Honolulu, June 28, 1907, page 6.
The photograph accompanies an article by Ford extolling the surfing skills 
and, the occasionally questionable, exploits of George Freeth.
The photograph is captioned "Photo copyrighted by Alexander H. Ford," 
and the text reports Ford's difficulty in securing the shot.
However, in Surfing Hawaii (2011) page 48, Tim DeLaVega 
accredits the photograph to Edward P. Urwin in 1908.
 
It is also possible that the surfrider is not Freeth.
Later printed, without identifying Freeth i
Alexander Hume Ford: A Boy's Paradise in the Pacific
, 1908.






George Freeth

Rendondo Beach, California,
circa1910.




Right:
George Freeth and 1910-type gremmies.
Left to right:
George Mitchell, Tommy Witt, Freeth, Ray Kegeris, Garry Witt.[Hermosa]



Photograph: MR. Lemon, coutresy of Lou Martin

Stern and Cleary:
Surfing Guide to Southern California
, 1963, page17.

George Freeth
Honolulu, July 1907.




Photographs courtesy of Ray Kegeris.
Stern and Cleary:
Surfing Guide to Southern California
, 1963, page 17.

George Freeth,
California, circa 1914.



Below:

George Freeth riding forwards and backwards - Rendondo Beach, 1914.



George Freeth with reel, high diving 
and manning the surf-boat, 1915.

Carroll Van Court and M. C. Merritt: He Sure Can Swim.
Recreation
 Outdoor World Publishing Company, New York.
Volume 53 Number 2, August, 1915 
Hathi Trust
https://hdl.handle.net/2027/coo.31924094284993

  
      

George Freeth, world's champion surf board rider and celebrated life-saver, teacher of swimming, diving and life-saving.
Sheffield, Lyba M.and Nita Co.:
Swimming Simplified
Second Edition
The Hicks-Judd Company,
San Francisco, c1921.

George Freeth with his mile-a-minute 
life-saving apparatus.

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Geoff Cater (2017) : Surfer : George Freeth.
http://www.surfresearch.com.au/sFreeth_George.html

Japan's Early Surf History

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Itago-nori

I am indebted to Nobuhito “Nobby” Ohkawa --大川信仁 -- for helping to preserve the early history of Japanese surfing, making it more widely known throughout the world, and allowing me to draw from his research.[1]

Nobby’s website is a cultural resource for learning about Japanese body boarding, the boards that were used and the locations where it was practiced. I encourage you to visit the website at: http://www.nobbywoodsurfboards.com/20.html. It is rich with images as well as text both in English and in Japanese.

This chapter in the LEGENDARY SURFERS series is a follow-up to my original posting made in July 2012 at: http://www.legendarysurfers.com/2012/07/early-japanese-surf-history.html

Certain beaches in Japan have a tradition of body boarding that’s nearly two hundred years old and possibly a little older.

From the mid-Edo Period [aka Tokugawa Period, 1603-1867], Japanese style wooden boats were crafted due to the then-new technology of timber processing. Previously, fishermen had used canoes made by hollowing out and shaping logs.

Most Japanese-style milled wooden boats had removable floor boards that were called Itago. When the boats were beached after fishing, the children of the fishermen took the Itagoout of the boats and used them as kick boards and body boards. This practice was commonly known as Itago-nori, meaning “Floor board riding.” It is also called Itakko at Oiso Kanagawa, Setsukashi at Niijima Island on the Izu island chain, Senoshi at Yamagata, Northeastern Japan, and Sebuta at Tokushima Shikoku. These different names -- such as “Itakko” or “Itago” – are due to the different regional nomenclature.

The oldest written documentation of Itago is the diary of Dokurakuan Kanri, a haiku poet who lived in Sakata, in Yamagata Prefecture, Northeastern Japan. He visited nearby Yunohama Beach in 1821, where, seeing children playing Senoshi, he wrote:

“Perhaps ten children of 12 or 13 are there,
taking the boat's planks they go,
embarking and diving into the racing sea,
further and further out they go,
then riding the waves they come back to shore,
fast, like an arrow, so many times they go.”

In the 1880’s, bathing beaches were opened up as locations for people’s health improvement. These beaches gradually became public beaches that Japanese visited in their leisure time. From this point on, Itago boards became more of a wave riding tool than a boat floorboard and were widely made.

The boards were used as lifesaving devices for fishermen and for wave riding by their children. The dimensions of Itago were length: 60cm-to-120cm, width: 30cm-45cm, thickness: 2cm-3cm. Most of the boards were made of Japanese cedar, although a few were made of Paulownia. In some cases, surfers even used old-fashioned wood washboards as Itago substitutes.

Almost all Itago were flat with no rocker and had a rectangular outline with a handle hole in the nose. However, some surfers didn’t make a handle hole because they didn't like the water that came out of the handle hole which hit them in the face when riding.
Itago were held vertically, a riding style called Tate-nori, but, when taking off on a steep wave, it was held horizontally -- a riding style called Yoko-nori.

After the 1890’s, Itago riding skill improved with the growth of the Itago rider population. This evolution prompted an Itago riding competition that was held at Oiso in July 1909.

Itago-nori became so popular at beaches that there was a swimming instructional printed in 1914 that included descriptions of the Itago and how to use it, along with drawings. “The Method of Swimming and Practice,” by Ikuo Tsuzaki, noted, among other things, that “It’s easier to ride on the wave with an ‘Itago’ than body surfing.”
Ten years later an instructional solely devoted to Itago-nori was written in 1924 by Saburo Sato.

As Itago-nori became popular and widely used as a tool to assist with swimming, kickboarding and bodyboarding, beach houses would rent them out to vacationers. The boards were painted with the name of the beach house that rented the Itago or the name of the company that supplied the boards.

World War II arrested activity at all Japanese beaches, as it did all over the world. After the war, soldiers in the American occupation army brought surf mats to Japan. Riding Itako changed to surfing rubber mats at bathing beaches. After that, Itago almost completely disappeared with the introduction of “boogie boards” in the late 1970’s.[2]



[1] Ohkawa, Nobuhito “Nobby.” “Traditional Surfing in Japan, An Unknown History,” updated 10 May 2017.
[2] In the late 1920s, a 9-foot Waikiki surfboard was brought to Chigasaki, Kanagawa, by Shinjiro Mori. Around 1931, a hollow board was constructed that was much like a big plywood bodyboard. It was called a “Float” and was made by Kamakura, Kanagawa shipwrights. See image at Nobby’s website.

John Heath "Doc" Ball (1907-2001)

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In 1998, I had the honor of interviewing Doc Ball, then at age 91. Subsequently, much of that interview appeared in an article I collaborated with Gary Lynch on. Printed in LONGBOARD magazine, Volume 6, Number 4 (August 1998), "Doc Ball, Through the Master's Eye" contained not only Doc's story, but a number of images he took during the 1930s. Five years or so later, I wrote a fuller bio of Doc which is still on line here: Doc Ball: Surfing's First Dedicated Photographer. This latest chapter on Doc is a further expansion of that biographical sketch.

Doc Ball was tremendously influential in the growth of surfing in California, especially between the 1930s and 1950s. To his very last day, December 5, 2001, he remained a source of inspiration to all of us.




A man who would become one of Tom Blake’s best friends of all time and one of the most influential surfers of the 1930s was “Doc” Ball.  Born John Heath Ball on January 25, 1907,[1] Doc was a key guy in two very important areas: Firstly, he, along with Adie Bayer, organized and lead surfing’s first great surf club, the Palos Verdes Surfing Club (PVSC), a group whose legacy is still felt today.  Secondly and as importantly, Doc became surfing’s first truly dedicated surf photographer.  Although others had shot surfers and surfing before him – most notably Blake – it was not until Doc Ball that surf photography rightly came into its own.[2]

Doc grew up in Redlands, California, the son of Genevieve – a natural child psychologist – and Archibald E. Ball, DDS, a graduate of the University Of Michigan School Of Dentistry.[3]  While as a boy, photography became part of John Heath’s life.

“Most of my lifetime, I guess,” he told me, “I’d had a camera for some reason or another… I started with a little thing about four or five inches; maybe less than that; a little tiny camera box that they made.  I guess it was for kids or something.  It was black and white stuff.  Take it on bike hikes and everything.  That was when I was about eight years old.  I got started ‘photography’ that way.”[4]

Doc’s introduction to the Pacific Ocean also came early in his life.  Out at Catalina Island, “at age 4,” Doc wrote, “I was taken along with my parents on a Redlands Elks Club party.  On arriving, my mom decides to take a swim in the little bay.  She also carried me out there and met another club member, Jake Suess (owner of a grocery in Redlands).  He says, ‘Let me take little Jack.  I’ll teach him to swim.’  She handed me over to him.  He wades out to hip depth and plops me down in that cold H20.  I went clear under before he grabbed me up.  And I start screaming ‘It’s salty!’  Anyway, that did not blot out my interest in the old salty, as our family vacationed at Hermosa Beach.  I learned to bodysurf, here.  Also, to make a few dimes catching and selling sand crabs to be bait for fishermen.”[5]

Doc’s water direction was kept alive, back in the Redlands during the school year, when he later became a junior lifeguard at the Redlands Municipal Pool.  Duke Kahanamoku visited the pool as a master of ceremonies for an inauguration and made an impression on Doc that was never lost.[6]

By 1924, Doc held the RedlandsHigh School pole vault record of 11-feet 6-inches, using a bamboo pole.  He continued playing sports in school when he played left end on the University of Redlands football team (1928).[7]  “The next wild experience here,” Doc wrote about the aquatic side of high school sports, “was learning how to do a one-and-a-half flip over from the 20-foot high diving platform.  It was a blast!”[8]

Following his father’s profession, Doc enrolled at the University of Southern California Dental School in 1929.  “This is where I learned to put my hands in people’s mouths,” Doc recalled, “and not get bit.”  It’s also where Doc got his nickname.[9]

“By this time,” Doc added, “I also set another record.  A 20-foot exhaust pipe for my strip-down Model T Ford (rode the thing on the gas tank) – was given the thing for cleaning up a friend’s backyard of weed overgrowth.  Weeds had almost swallowed the old T.  It had no body or fenders or front tires.  I drove it home and got it in shape to drive.  When they did some repair work on the KingsburyGrade School roofing was when I got that 20-foot pipe – put the end of it on skate wheels and attached it to my Model T Ford.  Got a blast when classmates went to look at the skate wheel towing attachment.  I would pop the thing [pop the clutch] with a backfire which caused them to jump sky high.”[10]

Doc recalled that “when I went down to USCDentalCollege, I had a little canoe I used to ride up in the Redlands area, in the lakes and rivers and whatever – canals [even].  So, I figured, ‘why not?’ [try it in the ocean].  Oh, we had lived in Hermosa Beach, there, in the summertime, way back [beginning in] 1920-21.  So, I knew the beach and I was interested in salt water and so –” he laughed, “I took that canoe, went out and paddled around; finally found out I could catch some waves with it!”[11]

When we think of a “canoe” nowadays, an image of a nicely constructed, mass-produced, well-marketed product comes to mind.  But, back then, a canoe could mean something you bought, but most likely meant something you made.  Doc’s was a custom job he called “The Bull Squid.”[12]

“I made it with bicycle rims – wooden rims, in those days,” Doc told me.  “The canoe was mostly made – what they had were some [train] car strips that they would use for packing oranges; great big orange boxes in the flat cars in the freight trains; just big long strips [of wood].  They just fit together perfect.
“So, I made the sides out of wood and put a little canvas covering over the front and back and that kept the waves from crashing over both the bow and, ah – stern.

“Anyway, it was a pretty good little surfing canoe; 6-foot, 6-inches long.”[13]

With The Bull Squid, Doc not only spent time sliding the surf, but diving for abalone.  The rest of the time was spent on classes and studying.[14]

“Remember your first surfboard?” I asked Doc.

“Pretty much.  It wasn’t mine, but it was one we could use.  There was a guy who came down to the beach, there, to go surfin’.  He’d been to Hawai‘i and he brought this board back.  A big 10-foot redwood.  He didn’t know what to do with it during the week, cuz he knew he’d only come down on the weekend.  So, by that time I had another buddy whose mother and father owned a restaurant right on the beach – right on the cement walk, there, on the ocean front.

“We went in and made a deal with him.  If the guy would let Norm [Brown] and I use his board during the week, they’d let him store it in their restaurant (‘Walt & Mize Hamburgers’).  It was kind of an attraction!  It helped them out and it helped us out.  That was the first board.”[15]

Encouraged by Sam Apoliana, a Hawaiian classmate,[16] Doc went on to build a plank-style surfboard.  He carved it out of a large slab of redwood, hewn with an adze.[17]

“Then,” Doc told me of this development, “Norm and I decided we better have one of our own, so we went down and got some lumber.”  Doc paused and asked me if I knew what an adze is.  “You have to stand with your legs spread pretty good,” Doc cautioned about use of the adze.  “Some of the guys we’d been told – in the logging industry – they’d pretty near chopped their ankle off.

“It’s a horizontal [blade, as opposed to an axe’s vertical].  Well, we hacked us out a couple of boards with that.  That was really the first one [we made ourselves and were our own].”[18]

In the late 1980s, Doc passed this same adze on to big wave legend Greg Noll, appointing him as “keeper of the flame.”  As for Doc’s first surfboard when he first hacked it out, he colored it white and decorated it with copper sheeting in the shape form of a shield with the words “Na Alii,” Hawaiian for “The King.”[19]  Copper studs kept it solidly pressed to the board’s surface.  “In time,” Doc said with some regret, “it was stolen out of our Hermosa Beach house backyard.”[20]

“Then ole Norm,” Doc told me, “he decides he’s gonna make one after Blake’s type [hollow paddleboard].  He started making 14-foot paddleboards.  I bought one of those from him and that was my board for a long time.”

“You liked the increased flotation?” I surmised.

“Oh, definitely,” Doc agreed.  “Yeah!”[21]




Early Heroes & Influences


Like many surfers of his time, Doc revered Duke Paoa Kahanamoku.  “He was one of our heroes in that time,” Doc told me.  “He came here and toured around a little bit, but I didn’t get to see him too much.”[22]

About a year or two after he got started surfing, Doc had an opportunity to surf with Duke down at Corona del Mar.[23]  One of Doc’s most vivid memories of Duke was in the early 1930s, at a surf contest at Santa Monica:

“They had a big thing at Santa Monica– a whole gathering of surfers giving out awards from the contest they’d had,” Doc recalled.  “Ol’ Duke was in there.  And, son-of-a-gun, when I got in there and sat down, here’s Duke.  He’s sitting right in front of me.”  Doc was laughing about it as he remembered the day.  “And I said, ‘Duke… Duke… Duke…’ [trying to engage him in conversation].  Never even turned his head.”  To get Duke’s attention, Doc resorted to the little Hawaiian lingo he knew.  In Hawaiian, Doc said, loud enough for Duke to hear: ‘To the up righteousness of the State.’[24]  “And, man, he whipped around like a shot!”  Doc laughed some more, then told me they got into active conversation.  “We had a blast…”[25]

A hero more accessible and even a close friend was Tom Blake.[26]  “He was my surfin’ buddy for all those years,” Doc told me of the 1930s and ’40s.  “We rejoiced together in the picture shootin’ [photography] and everything.”[27]

I mentioned to Doc that I’d heard there were only about 30 surfers in Southern California at the end of the 1920s.[28]

“That sounds a little extra, to me,” he responded.  “When I started, there were probably 15 or 20 around the whole coast.  But, they were mostly all in Southern California where the water was warm.”
I asked Doc who the earliest surfers were that he could remember.

“Some of the local guys.  Johnny Kerwin and his family, Jim Bailey [and] lifeguards.  They had a big pier there [Hermosa], ya know.  You go out there and that’s where you run into the lifeguards.  Most of the time, some of these other guys were out there; goin’ fishin’ or just checkin’ the situation out.”[29]

Most respected of these lifeguards was Rusty Williams.  “Anytime the waves got good, why, he’d be out there.  He was the one who was always telling us to watch out for the pilings on the pier.”[30]

About Johnny Kerwin, Doc said, “He was one of the first, there, at Hermosa Beach; the Kerwin family.  He had three brothers and a sister… We used to get together to go surfing, abalone diving, lobster diving and, boy, you name it.  His folks had a big bakery down there at Hermosa Beach and so that’s where we went to get all our cookies, bread, cakes… it was really an ‘in’ thing.
“He was a real friend...”[31]




First Dedicated Surf Photographer


John “Doc” Ball certainly was not the first person to photograph surfers.  One has only to visit any surfing museum to see evidence of predecessors.  There are shots taken of surfers going back to the late 1800s.  Frenchmen Auguste and Louis Lumiere invented the motion-picture camera in 1895[32] and by 1898, motion pictures of surfers at Waikiki were taken by Thomas Edison, inventor of the light bulb and the phonograph.[33]

Notable during the 1910s was Alfred Gurrey, Jr., in Honolulu.  Sometime shortly after 1903, he opened Gurrey’s Ltd: Fine and Oriental Art, which became a hub of Honolulu’s art scene; “the haunt of artists and patrons,” as a Honolulu Commercial Advertiser later put it.[34]

It was while operating the gallery that Gurrey photographed surfers and then had some of his surfing photographs published in magazines like Alexander Hume Ford’s Mid-PacificMagazine.[35]  It was Gurrey’s photographs of Duke, especially, that gained a large audience not only in the Islands, but on the U.S. Mainland and in Australia.  His best work can be seen in one of surfing’s most scarce collectibles: The Surf Riders of Hawaii.

Surf Riders of Hawaii was originally self-published by Gurrey as a handmade booklet photo compilation of surfing photographs in 1914.  It was later reprinted in St. Nicholas Magazine, Volume XLII, Number 10, August 1915.  The booklet combined artistically-rendered prints with romantic poetry from Lord Byron and also prose by Gurrey himself.[i]

Unfortunately, Gurrey quit photography shortly after publication of Surf Riders of HawaiiHis art gallery struggled financially through the second half of the 1910s and on into the 1920s, finally shutting its doors in 1923.  After a year of unemployment, Alfred, Jr. joined his father in the insurance business.  He died a few years later at the relatively young age of 53.[36]

Photographs of surfers continued to be taken through the first two decades of the century – the beginning two decades of the rebirth of surfing.  Surfer, inventor and philosopher Tom Blake took many photographs, some of which can be seen in his first book Hawaiian Surfboard.  And, in a notable milestone, Blake had the first surf layout printed in an edition of National Geographic., published the same year (1935).  Like Doc Ball, Don James also began surf photography in the 1930s, shooting many a photo between the ‘30s and 1960s.[37]

The significant role Doc Ball plays in surf photography, however, is that he was the first truly dedicated “surf photog,” as he called himself.  His surfing experience was framed by the camera’s lens from many angles.  Sure, he surfed and spearheaded the Palos Verdes Surfing Club, but more than that, he took photographs of surfers, surfing and surf culture.  He was the first to take this approach as his primary focus.  It began like this:

In 1926, Doc was given a Kodak Autographic camera by his father’s dental assistant.  “My dad was a dentist,” he reminded me, “and his office gal brought in a folding Autographic.  She didn’t want it anymore, so she gave it to my dad and he gave it to me.  I took that down to the beach, there, and when I went to school.”[38]

“I started [taking pictures of surfers surfing] after we started going down to the beach.  I said, ‘Oh, man, I gotta take a picture of some of these guys.’  That’s when I started using that folding Autographic.”[39]
One of Doc’s earliest surf-related photographs was taken the same time he started riding waves with a canoe and then a surfboard.  Around 1929, Doc took some pictures of his mother on a board at Palos Verdes Cove.  “My mother was a beautiful chicken,” is how he put it to Gary Lynch, “you have to admit it, a natural child psychologist.  She raised us right,” he added in appreciation.[40]

The year 1931 was when Doc really hit a turning point in his life; a turn that would unite his recreational time with both surfing and photography.  At the start of the year, the Los Angeles Times printed a sepia-toned, full spread rotogravure photograph of four surfers at Waikiki.  Taken by Tom Blake with his new waterproof camera housing, “Riders of Sunset Seas” grabbed hold of Doc’s imagination at the same time it provided viewers with a unique perspective of waves and surfers at an angle never before.[41]

From that point on, “Doc became dedicated,” surf historian Gary Lynch wrote, “to the pursuit of artistically recording the California surfing scene.”[42]

About the Kodak folding Autographic and why it was called that, Doc told me: “You could sign the thing and it registered right on the film; had a little place down at the bottom of the camera case.  I used to carry that out to the Palos Verdes Cove… I finally got to the point where I carried it in my teeth with a towel around my neck, getting’ drowned an’ everything.”[43]

“Doc started,” Gary Lynch wrote, “producing photographs of surfers surfing, their boards, cars, girlfriends, parties, surf board construction, living quarters, club houses and just about all activities related to this new breed of Californian.  Comedy often played a part in the composition of Doc photographs.”[44]


Palos Verdes Surfing Club, 1935-1941


Doc graduated from the USCDentalCollege in 1933.  Shortly afterward, on Monday, March 19, 1934, he opened an office at 4010 1/2 South Vermont Avenue, in Los Angeles.  “He rented a second story, five room suite above a movie theatre that then stood at that address,” wrote Gary Lynch. “On a surviving photograph of the office and theatre beneath, the marquee clearly informs us that the movie ‘Algiers’ was showing, starring Charles Boyer and Hedy Lamarr.  One room was dedicated to working on his patients and one room served as his bedroom, office, darkroom, and laboratory.”[45]  A third room constituted the Palos Verdes Surfing Club, after it was formed in 1935.[46]  The landlord gave Doc the first two months rent free, due to the Depression, and charged forty dollars a month thereafter.[47]
“In those days,” Doc told Gary, “I didn’t have enough money to rent another building to sleep in.  We made our own boards and swimming trunks, camera tripods, and copy stands.  We bought very little.  It was good for you.  After all that, you really knew how to get there from here.  It was a do-it-yourself age.”[48]

A year after he got going in his dentist practice, Doc got together with Adie Bayer to found the Palos Verdes Surfing Club.  “He was one of the big ones,” Doc told me, referring to Adie Bayer as one of the top surfers of the era.[49]  Bayer was a champion platform diver, swimmer, tennis player, as well as surfer.[50]

“He was real energetic and everything,” Doc affirmed. “He helped do organizings, too.”[51]

Because it helped sponsor the first annual Pacific Coast Surfing Championship, the Corona del Mar Surf Board Club was probably the first surf club to form on the U.S. Mainland. It was “the largest club of this kind in America,” according to The Santa Ana Daily Register, July 31, 1928.[52]  The Hermosa Beach Surfing Club was probably second, organizing around 1934.  They had about 18 members, including “the old ones plus Don Grannis, Ted Davies, and others.”[53]

The following year was “A banner year,” “Chuck A Luck” Ehlers recalled of 1935.  To the south, “the Palos Verdes Surfing Club was formed – with Tulie Clark, ‘Doc’ Ball, Hoppy Swarts, LeRoy Grannis, along with transferred surfers Matt Davies, Jim Bailey, Johnny Gates, Tom Blake, Gard Chapin and others.”[54]

Doc remembered that it was Johnny Kerwin who got the Hermosa Beach Surfing Club going, but he said it was “a little after we formed.  Palos Verdes was one of the first ones that organized.  After that was Hermosa and then Manhattan and then Santa Monica.  From there on it went up the coast and kept going after that.”[55]

I asked Doc if there were any significant differences between the surf clubs that sprang up in this period.  “Not especially, as far as I know,” he responded.  “They all had their little banquets here and there and times of celebration; same things we did, too, in our Palos Verdes [club].”[56]

Doc was being typically modest in his comparison of the PVSC to other surf clubs.  The fact was that the Palos Verdes Surfing Club was more sophisticated and organized than any other club.  It’s organization would be impressive even compared to today’s standards.  Certainly, Doc’s photography played a large part in establishing the PVSC as the dominant surf club of the decade.[57]

“We also had, among the clubs,” Doc added, “the Catalina Island-to-Santa Monica Paddle Race.  It was on those [hollow Blake-style] 14-foot paddleboards.  Whew!  That was a long paddle, but [at least] it was a relay.”[58]  What Blake, Peterson and Burton had started had evidently continued.

Soon after forming, the Palos Verdes Surfing Club moved its headquarters into one of the rooms Doc rented.  A small room that separated the clubhouse from the dental office was Doc’s storeroom, bedroom and darkroom.[59]

“The interior of the club room,” reconstructed Gary from Doc’s personal photographs, “was elaborately decorated with photographs of all members with their boards, trophies won by club members, surfing paintings, a president’s desk with gavel, and a set of shark’s jaws that housed the club creed.”[60]
The Palos Verdes Surfing Club creed went like this:

I as a member of the Palos Verdes Surfing Club, Do solemnly swear:
“To be ever steadfast in my allegiance to the club and to its members,
“To respect and adhere to the aims and ideals set forth in its constitution,
“To cheerfully meet and accept my responsibilities hereby incurred,
“And at all times strive to conduct myself as a club member and a gentleman,
“So help me God.”[61]

For non-members, entrance into the PVSC club room was by invitation only.  The club had a sergeant-at-arms and no smoking was allowed in the club room.  “We forbid any cigarette smoking in the club,” Doc explained for me.  “There were some that did, though.  One was [Gene] Hornbeck and another was Jean [Depue].  They never did have any cigarettes when they came to the club, but once in a while, outside, you’d catch ‘em.  Finally, Jean – he tried to go out Hermosa Beach in the big surf and he couldn’t make it out; couldn’t punch through like the rest of us.  He ran out of breath.  That slew the cigarettes on his behalf; never touched ‘em again.”[62]

“The Palos Verdes club members were just regular guys,” remembered LeRoy Grannis of his own participation.  “We worked or went to school, and were pretty much on our own.  We were all like little animals.  Nobody had much or any money, so there was no incentive to go looking for places to spend money and have fun.  We just stayed on the beach and everybody was happy.  I was an apprentice carpenter for my dad, building houses along the oceanfront in Hermosa.  If the surf was good and my friend Hoppy Swarts came by, ready to go, and my dad wasn’t there, it was really hard for me to stay on the job.  Three days later I’d come back and my dad would be madder than hell.”[63]

The PVSC went on to organize paddling races, paddleboard water polo matches, and surfing contests.[64]  The club’s influence went far beyond Palos Verdes.  “When the surf was flat there in Southern Cal,” Doc said of the surf safaris club members would take and the PVSC influence on the rebirth of surfing in Santa Cruz, “we’d make these trips out around, up the coast and down.  One of them went up to Santa Cruz.  They’d not seen that activity (surfing) up there [before]!  Our guys were the ones who initiated it in Santa Cruz.”[65]

E.J. Oshier was the main PVSC guy to help get surfing going again in Santa Cruz.[66]

“The sport quickly took hold at Long Beach, Corona del Mar, San Onofre, DanaPoint, and many Santa MonicaBay areas,” confirmed Duke Kahanamoku, “like Redondo, Hermosa, Manhattan and Palos Verdes Cove.  To thousands and thousands it has become a way of life.”[67]

In his limited edition California Surfriders, 1941– later republished as California Surfriders and still in print – Doc documented “How All This Started.”  Below the title, the photo shows Doc “snapping one in the good old days when the camera was carried out by holding it between his teeth.  Towel was there just in case.”[68]  The photo below it, entitled “Straight Off,” featured “Paddleboards, hats and paddles, constituted the cove surfing gear back in 1934.”[69]

“Life was grand around the California beaches even though the Great Depression had drained the savings and expectations of many,” Gary Lynch wrote.  “For as little as $15-$25 one could build a hollow board or plank style surf board, sew a pair of swim trunks out of canvas and feel like a king at the beach.  When the swell was small, Palos Verdes Cove provided food as well as recreation for the surfers.  A number of interesting photographs taken by Doc demonstrate that a paddle board could be used as an abalone diving platform.  Green abalones were abundant and the limit was twenty a day.  Diving for abalone in combination with fishing made for a pleasant existence.  Driftwood still existed on the Southern California beaches and a warm fire often was the centerpiece for the daily gatherings.”[70]

One particular time stands out in Doc’s memory and it was less than pleasant.  “I was diving for abalones and every time I get down there – oh, about 8-feet of water – I had an abalone beneath a rock.  The thing was anchored there pretty solid.  Each time I’d get my iron in there to loosen him up, he’d get re-anchored.  I stayed down and stayed down – I plumb ran out of air!  Man, I began to black out and so I just dropped everything and came up and started to inhale a little water before I hit to where my surfboard was anchored up there.  I kinda flopped over onto the board and here comes this guy around the corner, at the Palos Verdes Cove.

“‘Hey, Doc – What’re you tryin’ ta do?  Drown yourself?!’

“Holy mackeral!  Then it hit me; what was happening.  That was a wild experience.

“I had another one, too, down diving like that when a big shadow come over the top.  I look up and there’s this great big – 6-7-foot, white belly – leopard shark came swimming across.  Holy cow!  I got outta there!”[71]

Up until Tom Blake began drilling holes in redwood boards in 1926,[72] surfboard size and weight had remained the same since early on in the 1800s.  Further innovations in surfboard design and components continued during Doc’s time.  By the time the PVSC was underway, Blake had already gone to chambered hollow boards that reduced the weight even further.

Blake’s “Hawaiian Hollow Board” – the board that had begun this period of innovation – became known more commonly as “Blake’s Cigar.”[73]  Even though it was nearly laughed off the beach at first, almost every surfer in California and the budding East Coast began turning in their old spruce pine and redwood planks for the lighter, “Blake-style” boards once he went to a chambered hollow design.  “The trend [in surfing] soon changed,” noted a surfside analyst of the late 1930s, “due to its [the hollow board’s] extreme lightness, strength, durability and the greater ease in gaining speed, with much less effort.”[74]

Delbert “Bud” Higgins, a Huntington Beach lifeguard of those times, described the solid boards during this period.  “The “redwoods were really too heavy, about 125 pounds, plus another 10 pounds or so when they got wet.”  Yet, Higgins, who was the first man to ride through the pilings of the Huntington Beach Pier while standing on his head, swore by the old boards, saying they were, “so big and stable [that] you could do almost anything.”[75]

It was true that compared to the heavier solid wood boards, hollow boards had more steering and stability problems.  The hollows tended to “slide tail” or “slide ass,” in large part because the rails were not rounded and caught water rather than released it.  Except for simple angle turns – accomplished either by dragging one’s foot “Hawaiian style” off a board’s inside rail, or by stepping back and tilt-dancing the board around and out of its old course and into a new one – the hollow boards were still awkward and cumbersome.[76]

This situation ended later on in the decade, thanks to superior construction techniques.  By then, even hollow board rails incorporated a rounded edge.  Also, although they would not completely be embraced until the 1940s, keels (skegs, bottom fins) on surfboards eventually were universally accepted.[77]

The fixed fin was invented by Blake in 1935 in an effort to solve the problem of the hollow board’s tendency to “slide ass.”[78]  The skeg allowed surfers to track and pivot more freely and gave the board more lateral stability.  As a result, terms like “dead ahead,” “slide ass,” “all together now, turn,” and “straight off, Adolph,” gradually faded from surfers’ vocabularies.[79]

By 1937, Doc’s reputation as a surf photographer was well established.  That year, he built his first waterproof camera housing.  The watertight “shoots box” housed Doc’s replacement for the Kodak folding Autographic – a stripped down Series D Graflex.  Not only could he get closer to his wave sliding buddies, but the images were clearer.[80]

“By that time,” Doc told me, “I made a water box. I got a stripped down Series D Graflex camera – 3 ¼ x 4 ¼ – and put a water box around it.  So, that way, you could open it up and make your shot and then shut it up real quick and it didn’t get all wet.”  Doc laughed.  “That thing really did work.  I got some terrific shots with it.”[81]

Doc’s water box had a large brass handle attached so that when he was caught inside, large sets would not wrest it from his grasp.  Although the Graflex was big and bulky compared to today’s camera bodies used for surf photography, it used large format cut sheet film – 3 ¼ X 4 ¼ – which made for sharp enlargements.[82]  “I traded the chief of photography in the Los Angeles fire department arson squad for one of my Graflex cameras,” Doc told Gary.  “I made him a three-unit gold inlaid bridge,” in exchange.[83]
In the late 1930s, Doc shot a small amount of 16mm movie film and, later on, some 8mm.  “I finally got rigged-up with a Keystone.  It was a 16mm.  Take that out on the board and I got – man, I just got pack after pack.  I’ve got it here in the house, all stored up… it’s got some wild stuff in there.”[84]

Doc didn’t pursue this aspect of his photography, but what he did shoot documents the heyday of prewar Southern California surfing.  The films, themselves, contain one very unique segment shot from a bi-winged airplane.  “During the aerial photography shoot,” Gary wrote, having seen the footage, himself, “Doc turns the camera on the pilot.  With his leather cap slapping in the wind, the pilot’s eyes grow wide from behind his goggles and a large grin appears on his startled face.  Other notable footage includes Martha Chapin, sister of pioneer surfer Gard Chapin, and step-aunt to Miki Dora.  Martha stands in front of an enlarged map of Los Angeles wearing an eye-catching swim suit.  Looking like a Hollywood film actress, she points out the way from Hollywood to Palos Verdes Estates.  This was a promotion device for the new Palos Verdes Estates subdivision.

On this rare footage is recorded both an astonishing look at what the surfer sees while sliding a comber and the first-known surfing snake.  While surfing with his hollow board – named ‘The Wonder Board’ because of its paddling and surfing qualities – Doc hand-held his 16mm camera while filming.  On the deck of the board, the Palos Verdes Surf Club logo is clearly visible along with Oscar the surfing gopher snake!  “With water splashing off the rails and ocean whizzing by, the club pet snake lies on the nose of the board, head and upper third of body erect, apparently enjoying the ride.”[85]

Doc had “The Wonder Board” during much of the 1930s and on into the 1940s.  Then, he had a Blake paddleboard that he would later regret trading for a skateboard.  Doc called the Blake paddleboard his “X-1.”  It was a chopped-down foam paddleboard originally shaped by Tom and Doc.[86]  “Dog-gone-it, I did the worst thing I’ve ever done when I traded my paddleboard [the X-1] – he [Blake] gave it to me after he left the country [for Hawai‘i].  I traded it to a Keith Newcomer, up here [in Northern California] for a skateboard.  It was really a good skateboard!”[87]

As for the original Wonder Board, it’s now in the hands of Doc’s old Palos Verdes Surfing Club member Tulie Clark.[88]

Demand for Doc’s photographs by fellow surfers, surfboard manufacturers, newspapers and magazines continued to grow.  “When arriving at distant surf breaks such as San Onofre,” Gary Lynch wrote, “Doc was besieged by the crowds, demanding a look at the most recent prints that he had produced in his small darkroom.  Amused by the interest (which at times became a burden), Doc on one occasion handed a group of young Nofre surfers his newest spiral bound photo book titled Beach Stuff and stepped back to record the image with his new Graflex camera.  The photograph that resulted still survives and clearly shows the enthusiasm of the group.  Piled head over head, shoulder to shoulder, everyone eagerly scanned the pages looking for that special image that would portray them as masters of the rolling comber.  ‘Obviously these boys were interested in surf photography,’ smiles Doc.  A surfing book with photographic illustrations was inevitable.  There was no way to satisfy demand without one.”[89]

The Los Angeles Times published many Doc Ball photographs.  “Doc became friends with many of the Times photographers and the newspaper often relied on Doc’s images when huge storm surf or surfing contests made news at the beaches.  His creative eye caught the imagination of many.  Eventually Doc’s photographs would find their way into Life magazine, Look magazine, Encyclopedia Britannica, news magazines and papers, art galleries, national and international photography competitions, surf board brochures, advertisements, documentaries, foreign publications, and National Geographic magazine.”[90]


Late 1930s


Surfing continued to gain in popularity, as demonstrated by not only surfing photographs making it into newspapers, but articles about surfing, as well.  One such recognition of the interest in wave sliding was a September 1936 newspaper article by Andy Hamilton entitled “Surfboards, Ahoy!”[91]

Doc documented notable big swell conditions the following year:

“This is Big Surf,” wrote and photographically documented Doc of March 13, 1937.  Pete Peterson“of Santa Monica” is identified riding the “wave of the day.”  Also featured: LeRoy Grannis and Jean Depue.[92]

“Pete Peterson – he was one of the big ones who could really paddle,” fondly recalled Doc.  “He was expert at taking gals up on his shoulders and everything and riding.  He was one of the big surfers in those days… He was a big wave rider.  He used to be able to cut across a wave almost like they do, now; get in the tunnel and get out; just an extraordinary surf hound.  That’s what we thought.”[93]

As for LeRoy “Granny” Grannis, aka “Scrobble Noggin,” he continued to be a close friend of Doc’s to the day Doc kicked out.  Most notably, Granny took up the photographic banner that Doc started and became one of surfing’s great photographers after Doc gave it up.  “He’d get shook up every once in a while,” explained Doc about LeRoy’s nickname of Scrobble Noggin, “and he’d get an ornery look on his face [at those times].”[94]

Later on in 1937, Doc documented more big surf, this time at Hermosa: “Twenty Footers Roll In” shows Doc, himself (“having deserted his Graflex”), on a big, sloping overheader on Turkey Day, 1937.  Another of Doc’s bro’s, Kay Murray was also out that day.[95]  “He was a big guy; an athletic instructor; taught classes on body building and exercising.”[96]

The following month, there was more big surf.  In “Storm Surf of December 12th, 1937,” Doc’s photo, “Taken during a drizzling mist... shows the cove in the throes of a zero break.  Johnny Gates vowed ‘he’d get a ride on one of those or else.’  Credit is hereby extended him that he did reach the half way point, only to be wiped out by a monstrous cleanup and forced to swim in through devastating currents, rocks, etc., to retrieve his battered redwood plank.  Purple hardly described his color when he finally got out of that freezing blast.”[97]

“Zero Break at Hermosa,” wrote Doc of the term used for maximum surf.  “Perhaps twice a year this remarkable surf will hump up a good half mile offshore and keep all ‘malihinis’ on the beach.  Strictly for the ‘kamaaina,’ this stuff comes upon one out there with a long steamy hiss, and fills him at first with the apprehensive thought of, ‘Mebe I better wait for the second one.’”[98]

That winter swell continued to crank out good sized surf.  January 7, 1938 was “The day when the newsreel boys came down to shoot the damage done by the big seas – packed up and left when we came out with our surfboards.”  Surfers identified: “Tulie” Clark, Hal Pearson, Al Holland, Adie Bayer and LeRoy Grannis.[99]

Tulie “was one of our big guys in the surfin’ club,” Doc said, laughing at the thought of his old friend.  “We got together a lot of times at Hermosa Beach… we’d always stack our boards all together in the back of my car or back ‘a his, or whatever, and take off for where we thought the surf was up!

“He was one of the guys… not poverty-stricken, but very down, financially, in his early days.  Everybody used to get after me about him: ‘What are you doing – a doctor! – messing around with those bums; those surf bums?!’  Holy cow; about flipped my lid!

“The guy winds up being a millionaire – got a big house down at Palos Verdes Estates; lives in Palm Springs.  He went from a ‘surf bum’ to a millionaire.”[100]


Multiple Methods


“Through the years,” Gary Lynch wrote, “Doc tried many methods of surf photography.  Holding the camera by hand, by teeth, strapped to body parts and surfboard, and shooting off piers and rocks, from airplanes and towers, automobiles and trees, from boats and rubber rafts and cliffs and caves, Doc tried to expand both perspective and perception in the minds of his viewers.  The main objective was to keep the camera dry while making exposures close enough to provide a large clear image on the negative.  Salt water, dust, sand, and bright sun light became intruders, always lurking close by and waiting for a chance to foul the shot.”[101]

“Doc also created surf posters using his photographs,” Gary wrote.  “These quality posters used the images of surfers and waves to beckon all who viewed them.  The majority of these posters announced that the Palos Verdes Surfing Club was holding a Hula Luau.  Hawaiian music, food and drink, female companionship, and of course, the newest surfing photographic images to leave the darkroom were the rewards if one attended the event.  These posters, photographically printed, one by one, by Doc, and ranging in size from wallet size (used to gain entrance to the event) to 8” X 10” posters, have become the rarest California surf posters for collectors to obtain.”[102]

A real rarity was a Doc Ball surf poster displayed in a place of business.  Such was the case with a Los Angeles night club called the Zamboanga.  “That was a place where they had one of my pictures in there,” Doc told me.  “They got excited about it.  I gave them a print and they had it blown up to a 5’ X 6’ or something like that and put it up on their wall.”[103]

The picture was of Jim Bailey and his cocker spaniel Rusty surfing together.  “A real friendly guy,” Doc remembered of Jim Bailey.  “He was one of our originals from Hermosa Beach.

“Movie gal gave him that dog,” Doc continued.  “Then, I got that picture of them out there at Palos Verdes.  They published that over in England and France and, son of a gun, the English guys were all over me about torturing that little dog.  That dog, [actually, would] about scratch your ears off trying to get on your board to go out and ride!”[104]

Gary Lynch continued his writing about Doc’s surf posters and even post cards: “Fine glossy photographically printed post cards that the Palos Verdes Drug Store published also boasted Doc Ball surfing images.  These post cards were sold inside the drug store to help promote the new subdivision being built in the area.  Action shots of surfers such as Hoppy Swarts or Tom Blake caught the eye of the customers as they passed by the post card rack, demonstrating the pleasures of beach life.”[105]

Doc had high praise for Hoppy Swarts.  “He was one of our big guys in the place [PVSC].  He’s the one who had that characteristic finger tips thing riding a board.  He’d have ‘em all stretched out.  You could tell who it was just by lookin’ at his hands while he was ridin’.  Yeah, he helped us organize the club… also judging on contests and all that kind of thing.  He was a graduate from OccidentalCollege.  That’s where he was going when he got stuck on surfin’.”[106]

I asked Doc what was the most memorable moment he recalled of Hoppy.  “When I got [shot] him comin’ right, next to the pier, there.”  Doc laughed.  “Oh, he was real active… I always used to try and get him to grab one of those big waves out there cuz he could handle it pretty good.

“Those days, we had to steer with our feet; stick your foot in the water, either right or left, whichever way you wanted to turn.  He was an expert at that.”[107]

Doc Ball set himself apart from many surf photographers by shooting images of surf culture, along with actual wave riding.  A perfect example is a shot Doc made of the ‘Nofre crew still sleeping.  The caption read: “Six A.M. of a ‘flat’ day and everybody still in the bag.  Had the surf been humping they probably would have stayed up all night.”[108]  “When it was good down there,” Doc told me, “you couldn’t deny.  You could go in and stay all night on the beach.  Now, you gotta pay a fee and can’t [even] sleep on the beach.  If it was good on the weekend, why, that was it!”[109]

He shot night time photos, too, like the night of April 9, 1939, around a bonfire: “Super surf… kept the boys in the water til dark.  Tired but surf satiated they are seen warming up here prior to carrying their waterlogged planks up the trail.”[110]  Another shot showed a “Pre-war device for warming up in a hurry what gets coldest while shooting these pictures,” showed a surfer – none other than Doc, himself – squatting over a small burning tire on the beach.[111]

I asked Doc about music.  “What were you guys into?”

“If anything,” he replied, “they had a guitar or ukelele [for surfaris at the beach].  In our surfing club, whenever we’d have one of our [more formal] get-togethers, we’d hire a band from Hollywood.  They’d come over and do the dance music.”[112]

“What kind of roles did women have in surfing, in those days?”

“Mostly, if they had a boyfriend in it [surfing], they’d come down and eventually they’d say, ‘Hey, let’s get out in the water together.’  So, they’d have a tandem ride and finally started to get in the real deal.”[113]

Tandem riding was a common sight, particularly at San O.  In “Tandem Rides Are Popular With the Boys,” Doc Ball showed a picture of “Benny Merrill and wahini slicing along neat as anything.  Most of the female sex, however,” Doc noted in 1946, “prefer to sit on the beach.”[114]

Some of the notable exceptions to the “sit on the beach” mode for women were Mary Ann Hawkins and Ethal Harrison, at Corona del Mar.  Mary Ann Hawkins was an outstanding woman surfer of the 1930s.  Ethal Harrison later won the Makaha Championship in 1955.[115]  Of Mary Ann Hawkins, Doc attested: “She was one of the first surfers down there at Palos Verdes Cove.  She was a friend of E.J. Oshier, at the time, and he got her into the water there.  She got excited.  Then she was about to get a job with the movies, but she needed a portrait or photograph, so I took a picture of her down on the rocks, there, in her bathing suit at Palos Verdes and she got the job.”[116]

Patty Godsave and Marion Cook were two other early California woman surfers.  Patty Godsave, Doc recalled, “used to ride tandem with one of the guys, either Pete Peterson or E.J. Oshier.”  Marion Cook: “I don’t remember too much about her.  We called her Cookie.”[117]


WW II and After


On April 19, 1941, less than a year before the United States entered the war, Doc married Evelyn Young, an attractive registered nurse.  Their first child Norman was born in 1942 and their second child John Jr. followed in 1943.[118]

“When the United States declared war in December 1941,” wrote Gary Lynch, “it broke the back of the California surfers’ life-style.  The California surf clubs disbanded and almost every able-bodied man enlisted in the armed services.  Many of the fascinating personalities of the 1930s would never be seen again.  The war took some of the best men surfing had to offer, leaving a trail of waste and broken dreams.  If not for the persistent efforts of Doc with his camera we may never have known what the life and times of the first wave of California surfers was like.”[119]

World War II certainly “Shut it out for a while,” Doc agreed.  He, himself, joined the Coast Guard and became ship’s dentist on the U.S.S. General Hugh Scott, AP136.  “His photographic skills soon became known,” Gary wrote, “and he was given a new Speed Graphic camera.  As the official ship’s photographer he photographed much of the South Pacific.”[120]

“During September 1944,” Doc recalled a memorable moment during the war, “I got a big surprise.  While I was out on the South Pacific someone said the new issue of National Geographic had my surfing photographs in it.  Sure enough, there they were.”[121]

Doc credits Owen Churchill for helping provide some enjoyment during those war years, through his invention of the Churchill swim fins.  “He was the one that did it,” Doc told me when I asked him if it was Frank Roedecker or Churchill who first invented the swim fin.  “He [Churchill] came over here during World War II and I got acquainted with the guy.  I got a couple of original fins from him.”  He invented the swim fin “just before World War II,” Doc added, saying, “I think he was more of a diver than a surfer.  He was of French origin, I believe… We’d take ‘em [swim fins] aboard ship.  When I’d get out into that hot water of the South Pacific, why, I’d go diving and swimming and riding a wave or two; body surfin’.  They were somethin’ else!”[122]

After the war, “It just kinda exploded, again,” Doc said about Southern California surfing.  “Guys’d get back and they’d been hungry for surf.  It’d come natural that you’d want to get back… The ones who survived – we had an outlet and surf was it.”

“Thank goodness for that,” I said.

“You better believe it,” Doc affirmed.[123]

Surfer servicemen “started coming back in late ‘45 and early ‘46,” also recalled Duke Kahanamoku.  With their return, “surfing once again took an upturn,” not just in Southern California.  “But it was slow, for the military returnees were occupied with finding jobs or returning to their interrupted education chores.”[124]

“… when the war ended – Boom – we were back in the environment,” confirmed 1940s surfer Dave Rochlen.  “It was devotion, like seeing a girl again… like, ‘I’m never gonna leave!’  We gave ourselves over to it entirely.  I think it was because we spent four or five years in the war and we had survived.  And it had all been bad.  Now there was no question about what had us by the throat.  It was the ocean.  Everything else was secondary.”[125]

Doc and his brood was just one of many families to regroup and attempt to restart life where it had ended in 1941.  Doc opened a dental office in Hermosa Beach and, rejoining his wife Evelyn, concentrated on raising their two sons, “Norman (man of the sea) and John (God has been gracious).”[126]

It didn’t take Doc long to get back to his surf photography, either.  “Demand was still so great for Doc’s surfing photographs,” Gary Lynch wrote, “that he published the book, California Surfriders 1946.  The idea behind this was to satisfy the California surfers, giving many a portrait in the book as well as showing the major surfing locations.”  California Surfriders 1946 was first published in a limited edition of 510.  “Original cost for the first edition,” Gary noted, “was $7.25 a book.  Doc kept a complete and detailed list of who bought his book.  This list still survives and provides an astonishing array of Who’s Who in the world of California surfing.  Names only hard core surf historians would recognize such as Bob French and Jamison Handy to other more familiar names like Preston Peterson and Peanuts Larsen fill the pages.”[127]

“Oh, Peanuts!” Doc livened up even more than he normally did at the mention of Peanuts Larsen.  “He was one of the main ones down at San Onofre [before the war].  He lived in Laguna Beach, at that time, so he went to surf down at San Onofre and any time it looked good at Laguna.  That son-of-a-gun – I loaned him some stuff to publish and he never gave it back!  Well, I forgave him for that.  Old Peanuts – he was quite a guy.”[128]

Eventually, the fifth and final edition of California Surfriders 1946 published by Doc went out of circulation.  Ventura’s Jim Feuling copied the original and published Early California Surfriders in 1995.[129]  The images used for this latest edition were shot from the pages of Doc’s first edition and then enhanced by computer.[130]

“He did that without my permission,” Doc admitted to me with a laugh.  “That’s a classic.  It’s patented.  So, I told him as much as he’d printed it, we needed to get the message out for surfers, anyway, and keep it going [knowledge of the California surf heritage].  And, so I said, ‘I won’t sue ya or anything.’  So, he sends me a royalty, now.”[131]  That kind of reaction, on Doc’s part, was typical of the man.  As surf historian Gary Lynch put it, Doc was the quintessential “troubadour of good will.”[132]

“By the mid 1940s,” Gary wrote, “Doc Ball’s photographs had been published world wide.  National Geographic (September 1944), Encyclopedia Britannica (1952), photography magazines, news magazines, art galleries, and newspapers were among the places a Doc Ball photograph could be found.”[133]

An image Doc labeled as “The Mighty Ski Jump Roars in – December 22, 1940” showcases one of the best surf days of the year.  “Al Holland, Oshier, Grannis and Bayer riding the 30-foot grinders that arrive here on an average of twice a year and rattle windows over a mile inland with their heavy concussion.”  Doc, writing in 1946 in the third person, added, “This picture published in an Australian magazine, made its appearance in far away Noumea, New Caledonia.  Was discovered there by a very surprised Doc Ball.”[134]


Northern California


“In 1950,” surf writer Gary Lynch wrote, “Doc was almost killed when he drove his new Ford Woody into a eucalyptus tree.  It was during this period that Doc first received and followed Christ.”[135]  “Which caused me to start bible reading, cover to cover – my first time ever – because I had a vision, you might say, of me standing before the Judgement Seat of our Maker and He asking me, ‘Doc, did you read my book while you were down there?’  Having no sort of excuse, I just flipped and reading cover to cover began.  Took one full year to midnight the last day, but I finished the job.”[136]

“In 1953, the pressure from the Southern California population explosion resulted in the Ball family’s exodus to Garberville, Northern California, where he opened up a new dental office.”[137]  “Plus, the words of the Book [Bible], Genesis 12:1.  Also, the surfing at Shelter Cove [close by] attracted me.”[138]  Although he was now in Northern California and inland, “This move,” Gary wrote, “provided him with a more peaceful environment in which to live and work.”[139]

When he made the move, Doc had a chance to surf with his long-time surfing pal Johnny Kerwin at Shelter Cove, 18 miles from Garberville.  “We were spoken of as being the very first ever seen doing that in the Cove,” Doc recalled.[140]  “They had a Shelter Cove Surf Club, there.  They had a room – a kind of shack – right on the beach where you could go in and get your clothes changed; get your swimsuit on and get out in the water.”[141]  The 1953 surf session with Johnny Kerwin remained a special memory to Doc.  When asked about his surfing life overall, Doc always mentioned it.[142]  “Kerwin came to visit us in our new location,” Doc explained to me, “and he brought two boards along with him.”[143]

Photographic tragedy struck in 1964 when Doc Ball’s photo collection, film archives, and historical material was swept away in a devastating flood.  Yet, because Doc gave copies of most of his images away – approximately 900 of them – it would be entirely possible for someone to, with the cooperation of the Ball Family, reconstruct Doc’s archives by copying Doc Ball photos from the collections of others.[144]  We can only hope that that someday occurs.

Doc’s friendships through his life changes never altered.  He and his friends would still make time to hang together.  After “we moved north – Tom Blake lived on the East Coast, up there in Minnesota I think it was – he used to come out West,” Doc told me, “and just come out and have some fun with the surfers and get re-acquainted again.  Every time he’d come up, why, he’d stop here at our place.  We’d keep him overnight a couple of days or so.”[145]

After Blake had written Hawaiian Surfriders 1935 (aka Hawaiian Surfboard), “he gave me the last copy he had on that and then every time he’d come by, he’d sign it, again, with the date he’d visited with us; kind of a treasure, there.”[146]

I asked him when Blake, who died in 1993, visited him for the last time.

“That’s a hard one,” he admitted.  “It was after 1971, anyway.  We moved to Eureka, here in ‘71 and we kept him over in the place here.”

I asked if Blake surfed at that time.

“I don’t think so.  He might have gone in a little down at Shelter Cove.  The water’s warmer down there, but he was getting pretty up in the age, then.  Wow, what a guy!”[147]

In 1971, Doc retired from dentistry and moved his family back closer to the beach, to Eureka, remaining in Northern California.  “With more time to spend on hobbies,” Gary wrote, “Doc soon became infatuated with bird carving.  A combination of skillful maneuvering of his hands and fingers in the dental trade, and a life long love of birds, has produced one of the West Coast’s finest bird carvers.”[148]

I asked Doc when it was that he stopped photographing.

“I guess when I lost my camera,” Doc replied.  “I went out, one day, up here, at Eureka.  I was going to the North Jetty cuz the surf was huge out there that day.  I took my camera – Grannis gave me a Nikon camera with a – it had a great big telephoto lens.  I rushed out to my truck, there, set the thing down on my rear bumper and rushed back to the house – I’d forgotten something – went and got that, got back in the truck and took off.  I got to the North Jetty and reached for the camera box and nothing was there.  That thing just spilled off somewhere.  I’ve never heard anything about it…”[149]

“I got one here; one of the last ones I ever got with that telephoto. Patrick Edgar out at the North Jetty.  There was this great big – must’ve been a 22 or 23-foot big ole overhang comin’ down; soup on both sides.  It was obvious he was gonna get the axe.  I call it ‘Neptune’s Breakfast.’”[150]

Doc was still surfing shortly up to the time of his passing, but his real exercise in his last years was skateboarding.  “That’s how I stay in shape,” Doc declared, proudly.  “You gotta keep your reflexes sharpened up.  That’s one of the best ways to find out how old you’re getting.”[151]

For 18 years, Doc did the local surf report.  More importantly, he wanted to share the Christian experience with others, so he served in Gideons International.  Because of that, Doc regularly visited “churches, community organizations, care homes and schools, helping to provide both young and old with a positive direction and a meaningful future.”[152]

Doc Ball remained a dedicated beachcomber.  Every morning at daybreak he could be found at water’s edge, checking the tides and swells.  Beach combing also provided him with a supply of driftwood perches and body parts for his hobby of bird carving.[153]  “Latest rage,” Doc wrote me in reviewing the draft of an article Gary Lynch and I wrote about his life, “is knife cleaning up of common driftwood.  It’s amazing what images will appear when it’s cleaned and developed – knifed down to the original stuff.  It is full of very fascinating images.  It also makes the clock go like lightening.”[154]

“There was always an exciting ending with each visit to the Ball residence,” Gary Lynch recalled.  “As you depart, you get into your car and start to pull away from his home.  A glance back at the front porch reveals a smiling Doc giving you the ‘thumbs up’ and yelling, ‘Hang in there!’  Returning the gesture, you feel privileged he has given you his blessing to enjoy surfing, and most of all, to keep the tradition alive.”[155]

On December 5th, 2001, at 1:02 am – at age 94 – Doc “caught and rode his last wave into the waiting arms of his beloved Savior, Jesus Christ,” read his obituary in the Eureka Times Standard, “thus ending a legendary and inspirational life here among us and beginning a new, wonderful one in Heaven.”[156]

Doc Ball gave his own kind of obituary when he quoted in ending his classic California Surfriders 1946– aka Early California Surfriders:

“When Old King Neptune’s raising Hell
And the breakers roll sky high,
Let’s drink to those who can ride that stuff
And to the rest who are willing to try.”[157]



[1]Eureka Times Standard, December 7, 2001; obituary.
[2] Gault-Williams, Malcolm and Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball: Through The Master’s Eye,” ©1998 Longboard Magazine, Volume 6, Number 4, August 1998.  Base material for this chapter.
[3] Lynch, Gary.  “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989 and Lynch, Gary, “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[4] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[5] Ball, John “Doc.”  Notes to the draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[6] Lynch, Gary.  “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989 and Lynch, Gary, “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[7] Lynch, Gary.  “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989.
[8] Ball, John “Doc.”  Notes to the draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[9] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[10] Ball, John “Doc.”  Notes to the draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[11] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[12] Lynch, Gary.  “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989.
[13] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[14] Lynch, Gary.  “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989.
[15] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.  Of Norm Brown, Doc said, “He was one of our best buddies down there.”  When they got hungry, they hit Norm’s family’s restaurant.  See also Ball, John “Doc,” Notes to the draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[16] Ball, John “Doc.”  Notes to the draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[17] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[18] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[19] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.  “Keeper of the flame” is how Gary put it.
[20] Ball, John “Doc.”  Notes to the draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[21] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[22] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[23] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[24] Ball, John “Doc.” Notes to the draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[25] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[26] Gault-Williams, Malcolm. “Tom Blake and The Hollows,” Longboard, Volume 3, Number 3, August/September 1995.
[27] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[28] Ehlers, Charles (“Chuck A Luck”).  “Log Jam 1922,” The Surfer’s Journal, Volume 1, Number 2, May 1992.
[29] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.  Also Doc’s Notes to the draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[30] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[31] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[32] Grun, ©1991, p. 449.
[33] Source unknown.  See Gault-Williams, “The Revival.”
[34] Smith, Joel T. and Hall, Sandra Kimberly.  “A. R. Gurrey Jr.: The Genesis of Surf Photography,” The Surfer’s Journal, ©2005, Volume 14, Number 2, April-May 2005, pp. 52-53.  Honolulu Commercial Advertiser of March 26, 1928 quoted.  See also Gault-Williams, LEGENDARY SURFERS Volume 2: Early 20th Century Surfing and Tom Blake.
[35]Mid-Pacific Magazine, January and February issues, 1911.
[36] Smith, Joel T. and Hall, Sandra Kimberly.  “A. R. Gurrey Jr.: The Genesis of Surf Photography,” The Surfer’s Journal, ©2005, Volume 14, Number 2, April-May 2005, pp. 54-55.
[37]  Lynch, Gary.  Notes on draft of Doc Ball, Early California Surf Photog, May 1998.  Dr. Don James kicked-out in 1997.
[38] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[39] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[40] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[41] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.  Rotogravure (roh-toh-gra-vyoor) is a photogravure printed on a rotary machine.  A photogravure (foh-toh-gra-vyoor) is a picture produced from a photographic negative that has been transferred to a metal plate and etched in.
[42] Lynch, Gary.  “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989.
[43] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[44] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[45] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.  Also Doc’s Notes on the Draft, May 19-21, 1998.  There was a waiting room, office, laboratory, darkroom, large room (PVSC room) and toilet.
[46] Lynch, Gary.  Notes on draft of Doc Ball, Early California Surf Photog, May 1998.
[47] Lynch, Gary.  “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989.
[48] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[49] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[50] Lynch, Gary.  Notes on draft of Doc Ball, Early California Surf Photog, May 1998.
[51] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[52]The Santa Ana Daily Register, July 31, 1928.  See Lueras, 1984, p. 107.
[53] Ehlers, Charles (“Chuck A Luck”).  “Log Jam 1922,” The Surfer’s Journal, Volume 1, Number 2, May 1992, p. 46; classic photos.
[54] Ehlers, 1992, p. 46.
[55] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[56] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[57] Lynch, Gary.  Notes on draft of Doc Ball, Early California Surf Photog, May 1998.
[58] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[59] Lynch, Gary.  “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989.
[60] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[61] Palos Verdes Surfing Club Creed documented in Lynch, Gary, “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[62] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.  See Also Doc’s Notes on the Draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[63] Rensin, David.  All For A Few Perfect Waves: The Audacious Life and Legend of Rebel Surfer Miki Dora, ©2008, p. 36.  LeRoy Grannis quoted.
[64] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[65] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.  Actually, this was the rebirth of surfing in Santa Cruz, as Santa Cruz had been the very first place surfing had started on the U.S. Mainland in the late 1800s.  See Gault-Williams, LEGENDARY SURFERS Volume 1: 2500 B.C. to 1910 A.D.,©2005.
[66] Lynch, Gary.  Notes on draft of Doc Ball, Early California Surf Photog, May 1998.  See also Gault-Williams, “E.J. Oshier: Living the Life,” ©2003.
[67] Kahanamoku, Duke (1890-1968).  World of Surfing, ©1968, by Duke Kahanamoku with Joe Brennan, Grosset&Dunlap, New York, p. 37.
[68] Ball, 1946, 1979, 1995, pp. 44-45.  “He has since [1937] devised a waterproof job which he calls the ‘Waterbox.’  It’s a stripdown Graflex in a watertight case.”
[69] Ball, 1946, 1979, 1995, pp. 44-45.
[70] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[71] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[72] Lynch, Gary.  Notes on draft of Doc Ball, Early California Surf Photog, May 1998.
[73] Lynch, Gary.  Notes on draft of Doc Ball, Early California Surf Photog, May 1998.  “Only his first racing paddleboard was called that,” Gary wrote.
[74] Lueras, 1984, p. 107.  “… a surfside analyst of the late 1930s” quoted.
[75] Lueras, 1984, p. 107.  Quotes Los Angeles Times article by Jack Boettner, late 1970s/early 1980s.
[76] Lueras, 1984, p. 107.
[77] Lynch, Gary.  Notes on draft of Doc Ball, Early California Surf Photog, May 1998.  See also the definitive Blake biography: TOM BLAKE: The Uncommon Journey of a Pioneer Waterman, ©2001.
[78] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  “Woody Brown: Pilot, Surfer, Sailor,” Volume 1 of LEGENDARY SURFERS.  Based on interviews, November 22, 1994.
[79] Lueras, 1984, p. 107 and 109.
[80] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.  See also Lynch, Gary.  “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989.
[81] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[82] Ball, John “Doc.”  Notes to the draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[83] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[84] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[85] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[86] Lynch, Gary.  Notes on draft of Doc Ball, Early California Surf Photog, May 1998.
[87] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.  14-feet long, plywood covering foam.  Also Doc’s Notes on the Draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[88] Lynch, Gary.  Notes on draft of Doc Ball, Early California Surf Photog, May 1998.  Gary verified the correct spelling of “Tulie” (not “Tule”).  “I have his autograph,” Gary wrote me, “this is how he spells it.”
[89] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[90] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[91] Ball, 1946, 1979, 1995, pp. 48-49.  See also Ehlers, 1992, p. 47.  “September 1936,” remembered Chuck A Luck of the landmark moment in SoCal publishing, “Surfing made the Brown Section (Rotogravure) in the L.A. Times.”
[92] Ball, 1946, 1979, 1995, pp. 42-43.
[93] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[94] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[95] Ball, 1946, 1979, 1995, pp. 26-27.  Kay Murray and his wife used to visit the Balls in Northern California on up to Doc’s passing.  “He’s into square dancing, now,” Doc told me when I interviewed him in 1998.  “He and his wife go all over the United States where they have these square dance clubs.”
[96] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.  Also Doc’s Notes on the Draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[97] Ball, 1946, 1979, 1995, pp. 50-51.  “We’re in contact, now, with Johnny,” Doc told me in 1998.  “He just wrote me a neat letter; he and his wife Shirley.  They’re still goin’.  He gets in the water whenever he can, [but] we’re all getting’ old! (laughs)”
[98] Ball, 1946, 1979, 1995, pp. 28-29.  Possibly December 16, 1937.  Mali-hini = stranger, foreigner, newcomer, tourist, guest, company; one unfamiliar with a place or custom. Kama‘aina = native-born, one born in a place, host, acquainted, familiar.
[99] Ball, 1946, 1979, 1995, pp. 20-21.
[100] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.  Steve Pezman told me he made his money in real estate and lived in Palm Springs.
[101] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[102] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[103] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.  See also Ball, 1946, p. 55, where he wrote:  “So captured by this picture was Joe Chastek, owner of the Los Angeles night club ‘Zamboanga,’ that he immediately procured a copy and had a 3 by 5-feet enlargement made for the adornment of his bar.” The poster grew with time.
[104] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.  Note water-sled shaped board.
[105] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[106] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[107] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[108] Ball, 1946, 1979, 1995, pp. 82-83.  “Down at San Onofre,” Doc told me, “we used to have sea lions would come.  I had those things surfin’ right beside me… hard to believe, but that was in those days when everything was going real good – early ‘30s.”
[109] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[110] Ball, 1946, 1979, 1995, pp. 60-61.
[111] Ball, 1946, 1979, 1995, pp. 56-57.  Also Doc’s Notes on the Draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[112] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.  See also Ball, 1946, 1979, 1995, pp. 82-83:  “A couple of guitars and a ‘uke’ will always draw a crowd.”  Gary said E.J. Oshier was one of their main musicians (May 1998).
[113] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[114] Ball, 1946, 1979, 1995, pp. 84-85.
[115] Lynch, Gary.  Notes on draft of Doc Ball, Early California Surf Photog, May 1998.  Gary thinks Ethal Harrison may have won the Makaha Championship twice.
[116] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.  Mary Ann Hawkins was later married to Bud Morrisey for a while.
[117] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[118] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[119] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[120] Lynch, Gary.  “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989.  See also Gault-Williams.  Doc was very specific on the vessel number.  He said he’d never forget it: U.S.S. General Hugh Scott AP136.
[121] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.  Doc Ball quoted.
[122] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[123] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[124] Kahanamoku, 1968, p. 45.
[125] John Grissim, Pure Stoke, 1982, p. 20.  Dave Rochlen quoted.
[126] Lynch, Gary.  “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989.  Also Doc’s Notes on the Draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[127] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.  In his Notes on the Draft to this chapter, Doc noted about the $7.25 price: “hardback, yet!”
[128] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[129] Ball, John “Doc”.  Early California Surfriders, 1995, reissued California Surfriders 1946, 1946, 1979.  Published by Jim Feuling, 1995, Pacific Publishing, 2521 Palma Drive, Ventura, California 93003.
[130] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Surfing, Volume 32, Number 10, October 1996, p. 64.  Book review.
[131] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[132] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[133] Lynch, Gary.  “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989.
[134] Ball, 1946, 1979, 1995, pp. 52-53.
[135] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[136] Ball, John “Doc.”  Notes to the draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[137] Lynch, Gary.  “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989.
[138] Ball, John “Doc.”  Notes to the draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[139] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[140] Ball, John “Doc.”  Notes to the draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[141] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[142] Lynch, Gary.  “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989.
[143] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[144] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.  See also Lynch, Gary, “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.  Much of the location work has been done, already, by Gary Lynch.  Unfortunately, the Ball Family has not shown an interest in pursuing such a project either directly or through proxy.
[145] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[146] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[147] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[148] Lynch, Gary.  “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989.
[149] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[150] Gault-Williams, Malcolm and Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball: Through The Master’s Eye,” ©1998 Longboard Magazine, Volume 6, Number 4, August 1998.  Base material for this chapter.
[151] Gault-Williams, Malcolm.  Interview with John “Doc” Ball, January 10, 1998.
[152] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.  See also Lynch, Gary.  “Biograhical Sketch of Dr. John Heath Ball,” February 2, 1989.
[153] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[154] Ball, John “Doc.”  Notes to the draft, May 19-21, 1998.
[155] Lynch, Gary.  “Doc Ball, Legendary Lensman,” April 10, 1990.
[156]Eureka Times Standard, December 7, 2001.  Obituary.
[157] Ball, John “Doc”.  California Surfriders 1946, 1946, 1979, p. 1.
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