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Legless Fry-up
Legless followers will be well aware of our high regard for Steve Lis and the home-grown, stoke-fuelled, independent approach to surfing epitomised by his fish designs. The reach and longevity of both his design and the ethos that has nurtured it since its sequestered birth in 1967 stands today as a reminder to us all. That ethos is, above all, why we surf as we do: we should celebrate it.
After visiting a casual celebration of all things Fish at Oceanside in California during 2006, Grant Newby decided his home beach of Currumbin could host something similar. The inaugural Alley Fish Fry was held in the park at Currumbin one clear blue Sunday in March 2007. It wasn’t much more than a gathering of friends and like-minded strangers but it felt good and sparked enough interest to be repeated the following year, and the next and the next, ever growing in depth and popularity but never losing its spirit and local feel. Sunday March 4th it’s on for the sixth time.
Currumbin Alley is one of the Goldie’s special places: it has a little bit of something for everyone. There’s a point, beachbreaks and a rivermouth wave that, with the right alignment of swell, wind, sand and tide, can hollow out or wall up and run forever. There’s a sheltered stretch of beach beside the creek-mouth, a decent chunk of park for meeting friends and getting the barbie going, the obligatory café stretch along the road, and pouring over it all, that glorious Queensland sunshine.
There’ll be surfers and shapers, both amateur and professional, boards weird and wonderful to look at and to ride, a truckload of aloha and the chance to meet and chew the fat with all and sundry. With the tour in town for the start of the season at the Quikkie Pro down the road at Snapper, you never know who you might rub shoulders with while you drool over fish, slabs, eggs, hulls, twinnies, singles and various permutations of shapes old, new, and revisited.
The Saturday night before the Fish Fry itself there’s a get-together at the Gold Coast Surf Museum: beers, barbie, a film screening and guest speaker Mr Dick Van Straalen. If you’re on the Goldie and into alt. surf get down there and wave your freak flag high. Be there or be square. www.korduroy.tv ‘s own Cyrus Sutton caught up with the crew from legless for a quicke innerview…….check it out Its kneeboard week at Korduroy.TV! The first instalment is an interview with Steeno. Check it out! Big Ron Frederico Modern surfing’s history has seen various incarnations of the surfing ethos played out over successive generations, each with its own zeitgeist and unique characters. While the great Pacific has remained constant, those who choose to play on her shores have changed in attitude, number and style, each shift in the cultural landscape prompting new responses from the players: in this way every surfer is both product and creator of the environment in which he or she surfs. The touchstone figures are those who epitomise either a particular time or a particular ideal. The latter, often regarded as oddballs, eccentrics or mavericks, may be famous or unknown, their influence may be subtle or obvious: they shape our culture just the same. Ron Frederico is one such maverick, known as a North Shore charger, a man not to be messed with in the line-up and an almost mythical kneeboarding hell-man. The truth behind the myth is that Ron is a guy just like any of us, but with one important difference: he’s a man of conscience who doesn’t like injustice and is prepared to act when he comes across it in the water. Ron is a Taurus. Born in Glendale California in 1952, he grew up in the San Fernando Valley. His love for surfing dates back to the summer of 1962 when he would tag along on his 10 year older brother’s regular trips to Zuma Beach to bodysurf the shorebreak. These were the boom years in the wake of Gidget, when the Beach Boys and Jan and Dean were helping spread the surfing craze across the USA. On trips further South along the coast to Malibu Ron would cruise the beach borrowing boards from surfers sitting on the sand. “Most of the guys were there for show so it was easy to borrow a board.” When his dad finally bought him a board he was too small to carry it. “It was a red Hobie. I don’t remember the size, but I do remember that I had to drag it to the water.” Fast forward to 1970 and Ron’s a Huntington/Newport Beach regular riding a blue single-finned pintail Wave –Trek. On finishing high school he moved in with his brother Joe, who had just returned from Vietnam. Joe was into kneeboarding and Bob Dylan. “Joe had the “surf fever” bad. We still lived in the Valley so we were up 2-3 hours before light and would head down to Huntington Beach and arrive while still dark.” At Huntington the brothers hung with a rough and ready crew who were just into surfing. Joe was friends with Mike Smith, then the manager of Huntington’s House of Paipo and a high school water-polo champion. Joe Higgs, and Gary Razecka were also water-polo champs, Gary a paipo bellyboarder too big to fit any wetsuit then available. The problem this presented in California’s cool waters was easily overcome: his gear consisted of a water-polo cap, jet fins and a half-pint of Southern Comfort tucked inside his Speedoes. Gary was the crew’s regulator in the crowded line-up, using water-polo techniques to maintain the status quo when necessary. The 56th St. (Newport Beach) groin was their spot and they always had at least one of the crew in the water an hour before daylight, reserving the break for the rest of them. Ron was the only stand-up surfer allowed, or was, until one summer morning when the peak north of the 56th St groin was firing at 3-6 feet. Ron paddled into a set wave, was pitched into the rocks and came up to find his board in pieces. Undaunted, he borrowed his brother’s kneeboard and a pair UDTs. Templated from a Greenough spoon and shaped by Joe Higgs, this board was glassed clear and had a slightly scooped deck, twin fins and a diamond tail. The first session on it opened Ron’s eyes to the possibilities offered by a lowered centre of gravity. “Full powerhouse surfing, late take offs, hard bottom turns, destroying the lip, riding high ‘n’ tight in the barrel, finding comfort in parts of the wave where most stand-ups seldom ventured.” Ron recognised straight away that this style of surfing suited his character perfectly but he found it came with a price. “For the first time I noticed something I’d never felt before, which was the hate some stand-up surfers had toward kneeboarders. My response was: ‘fuck you and bring it on’.” From then on, while Ron was around at 56th St, any stand-up surfer giving kneeboarders bad attitude was treated to exactly the same … returned in spades: “I would become their personal nightmare within the realm of sports competition, no anger involved.” Fast forward to the winter of 1971. Just back from a Colorado ski trip and in need of a surf session, Ron paddled out at Huntington Pier on a crowded Sunday afternoon. We’ll let Ron tell the rest himself. “Even though it was insanely crowded, I was thinking to catch a wave or two. The surf was 1-2 feet and inconsistent but eventually a wave came and I took off with about 15 others, rode a ways and got out. From a distance I could hear someone yelling, ‘fucken kneeboarder, you fucken kneeboarder!’ on and on. Well of course I started looking around and realized I was the only kneeboarder in the water, then I took a look at who was yelling. This guy was huge and coming right for me: scared the hell out of me. When he was within reach I grabbed the nose of his board and gave a sideways push to knock him into the water. He starts yelling that he’s going to beat the shit out of me. I pointed to the beach and said, ‘lets go’. He started power paddling to shore and I was thinking, ‘good, get nice ‘n’ tired’. I took my time and as I was getting close to shore started taking off my fins and beavertail top while watching him bounce around in his boxing stance. By now I was holding my board, fins and top, coming onto dry sand with him coming at me like a bull. My first reaction was to drop everything at his feet and give a right jab to the tip of his nose while backing off away from his reach. That became my M.O. until I unwisely decided to make a move to punch his fat belly. During this time the beach was lined up north ‘n’ south to the pier, which itself was packed full with people leaning over cheering on. I made a move for his stomach, he backed off, I missed and he was on my back with a powerful bear hug. By now he’s really pissed and I’m thinking, ‘Now he’s going to kill me’. “So with this big ape on my back, out of pure fear and knee-jerk reaction I twisted my body in order to push off his chest with my right hand hoping to break his grip and in doing so I swung to my left with my fist extended in a back swing. My fist connected perfectly with the left side of his jaw, almost knocking him out. He started walking away and in a moment of insanity I said, ‘Hey where you going, we’re not finished.’ He shook his head and came back at me like a freight train. We stood toe to toe and I was lucky enough to connect another good one to the other side of his jaw. This time I kept my mouth shut and he kept walking. I was never angry, but it all came down to a stand-up surfer making a kneeboarder get out of the water, so I started gearing up to get back in the water. Everyone on the beach and on the pier went wild in my support. What a moment for all kneeboarders at a place most kneeboarders wouldn’t venture because of this bully, Chuck Dent. As I was paddling back out surfers were coming to shake my hand in thanks for someone finally beating up Chuck Dent, and that’s when I found out who he was. Back in the line up his crew greeted me with threatening comments, so I told the biggest of them I had some left over if he’d like some. There were no takers so I caught one more wave and went in.” “I returned to the pier a week later only because I was tricked by Gary Razecka. I should have known something was up when he came by my place wanting to drive down for a surf check, Of course he parked at the far end of the street leading to the pier. Now you have to understand the street is wall-to-wall surf shops and everyone hangs outside. As we’re passing each and every shop Gary stops and introduces me as ‘The Kneeboarder That Kicked Chuck Dent’s Ass’. From that point on I was given free wax and hard earned respect for all kneeboarders. Anyway, after running the gauntlet of surf shops we were standing at the corner waiting for the lights to turn green to the pier. Who does Gary see on the opposite side of the street, also waiting for the lights? Yes, Chuck Dent. Gary being Gary, he yells ‘Hey Chuck’. Chuck looks across the street to see Gary with his arm extended over my head with his finger pointing down at me and yelling for all the world to hear, ‘HERE HE IS!’ Chuck shook his head and waved his arm to the ground.” Ron’s reputation as someone not to be messed with in the line-up began at Huntington and stayed with him through many years and many different waves. His take on it is interesting. “As far as a fearsome reputation as a heavy in the 70’s n 80’s,well that’s news to me. I never thought of myself in that way. Assertive yes, but I never thought of myself as or acted as if I were hot shit. Always humble, polite, with manners and I gracefully gave respect to all, that is unless the opposite was displayed to me, my friends, or to a kid or person who was out-weighed: I can’t stand that bullshit. I never made a move unless one was made on me but then I would become TOG (the other guy). The contrast was surprising, and I did not like to go there. In reality, no matter what anyone’s riding we are all surfers and must not forget that is our common denominator. We are all lovers of the ocean who seek favour.” Rob Harwood Images courtesy of Allan “Buddy” McCray 
The Legless Journal Way back in, 1998, which this year is fourteen, (yep, count ’em, fourteen) years ago, The Surfers’ Journal ran an article about kneeboard surfing entitled ‘Endangered Species’. It was probably a bit of a curio to most of the readership but it gave rise to a great deal of controversy in kneeboard circles because the basic premise of the piece was … well, the title really tells you all you need to know: survival, would it, could it, should it. We at legless.tv read it, thought about it, went surfing. Time moves on and here we are in the 21st century and kneeboarding once more gets a run in the quality surf press. If you can find Volume 21 Number 1 of The Surfers’ Journal on a newsstand you’ll find one of Steen’s shots of Albert on the cover. Inside there’s a neat article by Ted Endo and a few more photos too. Of course it’s noteworthy that kneeboarding gets a run in the press, but we’re also taking note of the fact that this particular cover actually represents a triple first. First time a surfer riding a wave but not standing up has graced the cover of TSJ; first time Steen’s had a shot on the cover of TSJ; first time the Gong’s been on the cover of TSJ. There are those among us who pray it’ll be the only time the Gong makes it to the cover of a glossy mag, but that’s another story. Legless.tv is about progressive kneeboard surfing and our love for it. We’d like to send a big thank you to Steve Pezman for the chance to spread our legless love via the pages of such an esteemed publication, and to Ted Endo for doing such a great job of helping the surfing world understand why we do what we do. Anyway, with that said, we reckon you ought to go out and buy this Trifecta issue of the Journal right now because in a hundred years it’s going to be a collector’s item worth serious coin. Now we’re going surfing. Rob Harwood legless.tv No choice but to aim and fly-Rex Huffman Sometimes it seems kneeboarders are always talking about what they don’t get. Recognition for design breakthroughs, being the first to explore tube-riding, first to properly engage the pocket in powerful waves, get airborne, for being able to take on big waves with small boards. “It’s not fair” has almost become a mantra recited whenever groups of kneeloes get together. We’re proudly unconventional but too often complain that we’re not accepted by the mainstream. We at legless.tv are sick to death of hearing this stuff: we think it’s gone on long enough. Good surfing is good surfing and it matters not a jot where, when or how it’s done, nor by whom. The way we see it, the only recognition worth having comes from those with wisdom grown from experience. That’s true respect, and it only ever goes to those who earn it. Those who earn it aren’t primarily motivated by a need for it, but they value it highly once they achieve it. Respect is like love and happiness in that those who are driven by the need to achieve it will never really find it. It’s a beautiful paradox. You must give before you can receive. Surrender yourself to find yourself. What we’re posting here is an extract from some writing by a man who made his reputation at San Diego’s Big Rock during the mid 70’s. It came to us as part of an email exchange with Steen last year. It was not written with publication in mind. There’s no attempt here to make more out of what’s being related than should be there. It’s a simple statement of facts as recollected by the person who brought them into being. In 1977 a non-stand-up surfing Expression Session was held at Pipeline on Oahu’s North Shore. Rex Huffman won it in big waves, riding a little board. Here is his story, in his own words. “Honi soit qui mal y pense.” “Whenever the North shore gets large, the coast and adjacent areas vibrate with the impact of the waves. I didn’t sleep well the night before the contest because of this vibration - that and fear. It was still dark when I got up from my floor bed and made oatmeal and raisins for breakfast. The house and earth were shaking from the surf. I was spooked but also pumped. Today was the day: the North Shore Expression Session that had invited anyone to kneeboard, bellyboard, boogie-board and bodysurf sanctioned Pipeline. The contest was not for surfers, in fact Rory Russell and Mike Armstrong were the water patrol in the line up to keep any intruders out. There were about 30-40 kneeboarders from all over the world. My brothers Mark and Eric and many of our good San Diego friends were there in force to compete. I remember names like Ray Pina and a handful of other good riders but San Diego definitely had the best show up representing the U.S. I remember seeing George Greenough taking movies from the beach. It was monster Pipeline, hitting the outer reef at probably 20’ and doubling up and re stacking and exploding even harder at inside main peak. It was a machine for 12 hours, dawn to dusk. Howling offshore winds, thick, nasty and throwing. I was riding the only board I had, a 5’2” Lis Fish with twin fin set up. No leashes, they weren’t yet allowed. “The kneeboarding event went off first. Mark and Eric and myself were all in different 5 man heats. I was in the first heat and ran towards the river in front of Pipeline to hopefully get swept around the line up without getting destroyed by the shorebreak. I went head to head with Ray Pina and a few other guys. This was the largest and best Pipe I had ever seen to date. Surviving would take every bit of effort I could muster. I kept my eyes on Rory Russell because he was point man guarding the break for our contest. Only Lopez surfed the Pipe better than Rory back in the 70’s. When he paddled, I paddled. He was talking to himself a great deal, more than likely disgusted at not being able to surf this perfect day! I followed him over a rogue set that wiped out the 4 competitors behind me. He looked at me and did a head bob, clueing me in to be ready for something. I thought it was a fog bank coming at me but it was a huge set, reforming and growing right in front of me. I spun around and started digging with everything I had. Rory was laughing and encouraging me to keep paddling. I did everything I could do and the wave picked me up and launched me like a rag doll. I fell into the pit and went up and over a couple of times. It was absolutely horrifying. “The good thing about Pipeline is its close proximity to the beach and safety. My vest had ripped off and one of my Churchill fins was gone along with my board. I hit the beach coughing up water and foam and sand. I ran towards Rocky Point. I found my swim fin bobbing in the foam about 100 yards down the beach. My board was in an eddy another 50 yards out. Time was burning but these were 45 minute sessions and I was young, so … all good. I knew right then and there that I had just survived the worst wipeout in my young life and I was shaken but alive and well. I paddled right back out, spun around on the next monster that came at me and once again with Rory’s encouragement I paddled for my life. This wave didn’t take me, I took it: I screamed down the face making S-turns to avoid getting sucked back up. I pulled that off and laid out the heaviest bottom turn I had ever made. There was just so much water moving and girth. The rooster spray off my turn let me know I was In complete control: no spin out or stutter cross bump hit me. I leaned forward and saw a gaping backdoor hole building in front of me. I had no choice but to aim and fly. It threw so far in front and over me that I felt like I was in a tunnel going through a mountain. It went on for a good 6-8 seconds at least (or so it seemed). It ended with the classic firehose water blast from behind me but I held on and rode this beast down to the end. “I picked off a few more in other heats that day but nothing like that monster. This was my day: I never lost a heat. Mark and Eric had much harder times than I did but that’s Pipeline for you: if you dance with the devil you have to watch your feet. This was a huge step for knee boarding and for me personally. Respect was earned and given that day to all kneeboarders. I did not survive big Pipe, I was riding it fair and square for everyone to see. It was a good thing for sure. Looking back it was unfortunate Peter Crawford, Lis and many other better riders were not there. I realized then and there that I didn’t like contests. Surfing was a free sport and not a competition. I didn’t care for the extra drama that went with competition. I only competed in one other contest after that and then never again. The respect was universal. When I came home from the North Shore that year it was all good no matter where I surfed. They never held another Expression Session again so I had nothing to defend which I was grateful for. Contests involve a great deal of luck in my opinion. The best guy does not necessarily win. The luck of wave choice, wave count, judges and conditions decide the winner many times.” Rex Huffman 2010 Bottom Turn Image: Jeff Divine Sorry we’ve been a bit quiet on Legless lately… The holiday season has been hectic!!! Heres a little clip of some recent sessions from some local beachies. Filmed by my Injured buddy Haydo. Hope you can get something out of it until we get back on track. Hope everyone had a great Xmas / New Years… Yeeeeew! CS P.S. I think Haydo has a thing for Galah’s |
