Something of value: Michael Novakov part 3

Many dismiss competitive surfing as the diametric opposite of what surfing’s all about. Nov doesn’t see it like that: after all, at Northy his development was founded on the need to surf well enough to be worthy of a wave. His first competitor was his own ability, his first prize more and better waves. While he values the trophies and titles that came later he values far more the friends he made and the humility he learned along the way.  At North Narrabeen kudos could only ever be earned from and given to those who mattered. Artis again: “By Nov’s 2nd World Title he was getting recognition in the surfing media and industry but more importantly the car-park hierarchy: Nov had paid his dues.”  While competition has undoubtedly been an important side of his surfing Nov was never driven solely by a need to win and never lost touch with the reason he began surfing in the first place: he simply loves riding waves, even when he’s not the one riding them. We asked him whether Simon Farrer’s surfing at Narrabeen had pushed his own surfing along.

“I was always intrigued by Simon’s surfing and was always impressed by what he could do on a wave and how he made it look so stylish and smooth. By the late 80’s and early 90’s, Simon was without doubt the best all round surfer at North Narrabeen, he got by far the deepest and longest barrels and he was hitting the lip and getting air when the stand ups were still thinking about it. I asked guys at the beach the other day and they agreed that they loved watching him surf more than most stand-ups. I miss having him around at Northy because people really took strong notice of kneeboarding when we went wave for wave on good days.” Even today the heart of a stoked kneeboarding grommet still beats within him.

Nov’s signature move in the 80s became the barrel-roll, something Australian kneeboarders had dreamed of for years. His account of how it came about is typically modest. “We all saw our first one at the 1982 World Titles when the US kneelo Bill Sharp pulled a roll in the final. He lay down and got back  up to his knees as he completed it, but he had the whole of the presentation at Gold Coast Playroom hooting as we watched the day’s footage on the big screen. No one had seen anything like it before. He got 4th in the final but he had done the move of the contest and I wanted to be able to do one myself. It took 2 years of trying but I finally nailed one at Point Mugu Naval Base during a free surf at the 1984 World Titles in California. I can remember my stoke to this day and it’s every bit as thrilling every time I make an attempt.”  The move was documented on video for Tim Bonython’s & Guy Finlay’s “Water Slaughter” one perfect day at Aussie Pipe, a break long favoured by kneeboarders. The segment featuring Nov includes probably the most electrifying kneeboard surfing footage ever captured in a mainstream surf movie.

In the 90’s Nov slowly drifted off the radar. He and his partner Teresa finally tied the knot in 1992, the year their son Matt turned 4. Soon the responsibilities of raising a family took precedence over surf competition. Organising time off work for competitions became just too hard and then in 1996, the year his 2^nd son Tom was born, Nov requested a wild card entry into the World Titles in Wollongong and was refused. “I was told no, I had to surf from round 1 in trials and that was final.”   The rejection left him so sour that he simply didn’t bother with competitive surfing for the next ten years. Nov settled comfortably into a routine of work and home, surfing local breaks when he felt the need. Although he had dropped off the competition scene he was still surfing at a very high level. If you knew where and when to look he could be found throwing spray at random spots on that long stretch of sand between Turrimetta Head and Long Reef, still doing the same thing he started out doing on a pumped-up surf mat: having fun.

When his son Matt began surfingit didn’t take much to get Nov properly back into it and typically, he didn’t do it in half measures. “I tried a couple of shapers during this period but found nothing so I decided the best way to go was machine shaped boards to my exact specs. A North Narrabeen surfer, Dave Wood, said he had a machine and would build the board from start to finish. I have been getting Dave (of Velocity Surf Project) to make my boards for the past 7 years. They’re all computer designed and machine shaped, exactly what I ask for and perfectly accurate. We design the board together on his laptop and 3 days later he knocks on my front door with the new shooter ready to surf: can’t get a better service than that. Dave surfs at Northy and is very aware of my surfing and contributes to the board’s design, a great surfer-shaper combo.”  This is exactly the same ethos that had Chris Crozier scratching his head back in 1977. Nothing has changed. “I design my boards to suit my surfing and the waves that I surf, but I am very hard to please and I’m still in search of the perfect board.”

With the right boards available and two sons as keen as he ever was, well … that old Narrabeen spark is still there. “I was off the scene for more than a decade until Matt started surfing and he was keen to try his hand at a contest and that got me, albeit reluctantly, back into contests. It was great to see the old faces again and everyone was stoked to see me back. I try to get to as many comps now as I can and I really enjoy watching my youngest boy, Tom, compete.  I just wish that he had some surfers his own age to push him and themselves harder.”  

Today, Michael Novakov finds himself in a pretty comfortable place.  He’s back in competition as a serious contender: he made the semi-finals at this year’s Phillip Island contest. His son Tom took the Cadet Title at the same competition. He has a twentieth wedding anniversary to celebrate with his wife Teresa. He’s still stoked to share his love of the ocean with all his family and his love of kneeboarding with his two sons, with whom he’s planning a boat trip to the Mentawais later in the year. Above all Nov possesses something of true value: the calmness that comes from knowing what he’s achieved with his will, energy and ability and knowing also that those achievements are acknowledged by those whose opinion matters. In a world teeming with people clamouring for respect he’s one of the few to have earned it. Steve Artis put it in the most simple of terms: “Mike is North Narrabeen’s first world champion, followed by Damian Hardman and then Simon Farrer.”  Artis sees Novakov’s surfing through the late seventies and eighties as providing the template for the radical shortboard surfing that followed in the nineties. “Is it pure co incidence that Pottz often surfed North Narrabeen? If Pottz was 10 years ahead of his time, surely Michael was 20!” And Steve Artis isn’t the only one: Simon Farrer speaks for a generation of Australian kneeboarders. “To me Nov was a breakaway from traditional kneeboarding. There was some insane talent in our local area but Nov’s approach on a wave was, (I hate to say this but), “New School.” Doing things that were way ahead of anyone else. Along with no flippers, helping modernise board design with his rounded double flyer pintail thrusters, futuristic manoeuvres, popular with the locals: it was almost impossible for it not to rub off on me. I had the blessing of being around some of the most insane stand-up surfers in history to help me figure out what was possible on a wave but to have a guy also doing it on a kneeboard in front of me has inspired me & allowed me to put my own take on it. Thanks Nov.”

Nov’s love of surfing remains as strong today as it ever was. Ask him about the standout sessions he’s had in his lifetime and the answer is surprising. “Plenty of perfect days at North Narrabeen have been had through the years and a stack of pumping rip banks that I surfed virtually by myself across the road from my house at South Narrabeen. I used to go to school and tell my mates that I had just surfed a perfect 4 foot right hand rip bank by myself at Southie for 2 hours and no one would believe me.”  This from a man who has won world titles on three continents. A perspective that can find contentment in such commonplace treasures betrays a wisdom that a million glassy Indo barrels could never bestow.

We asked Nov if he sees a future in which kneeboarding could again become part of Australian Surfing as it was in the past.  “It’s unlikely to return to the fold because there just aren’t any young kneelos that are hungry to compete. The numbers just aren’t there so we can’t justify our presence at these events. We just have to keep the Australian Circuit going and hopefully encourage all kneelos young and old to show up and enjoy being a part of our scene.”  As a last wordhe offered a nugget of common sense on the future of kneeboard surfing generally. “Kneeboard surfing can only grow if boards are made readily available in surf shops. Only then will people be able to walk in and make a decision on what type of surfing equipment they would like to ride. The main reason we don’t see any younger kneelos is because there are no boards for them to surf so it is really a tough situation that kneeboarding finds itself in because most surf-shops aren’t willing to put kneeboards on display. I can guarantee that if surf-shops stocked kneeboards, there would be interest shown. Regardless of all that, kneeboard surfing is so much fun and I kind of enjoy the fact that we are in the minority, because they don’t know how much we are enjoying ourselves.”

Images & Thankyou

Peter Crawford (C/O Justin Crawford)

Mark Garnett

The Novakov Family

Interview Steen

Words by Rob Harwood

Redefining style: Michael Novakov part 2 of 3

Nov’s sponsorshipwith Chris Crozier lasted five years and marked the start of his reputation as a surfer who demanded a lot from his shaper. “Chris was not the only kneelo shaper. Paul Connors shaped probably 70% of the boards but he had a different, thinner rail shape and I much preferred Chris’s softer rail design, so I got Chris to shape all my boards, which in hindsight, was probably a bit of a punishment for the poor bloke.” Pushing the slabs as hard as he did Nov was soon bumping up against the design’s limitations. “The raked back single fins worked well in waves up to 4-5 ft but the board went sideways in anything bigger. PC and a couple of the other DY guys were the only surfers who could ride them properly in really solid waves. You had to really draw your turns out when it got bigger but I loved to jam off the bottom, and the single fin just did not co-operate.”  This design flaw was to prevent Nov realising his full surfing potential for a few years yet, but it also helped him develop a lasting interest in board design. “I did get Chris Crozier, back in early 1977, to shape me the first double flyer rounded pin he had ever done. He was scratching his head to draw the tail design on the blank because he only had one template, the Slab template: the nose on one side, and the square tail on the other side. We had a great laugh finding little curves to link up the flyers and the tail.”  Few appreciate just quite how iconoclastic Nov can be, nor how long he’s been that way. That at the age of 15 he was anticipating kneeboarding’s next design paradigm-shift and pushing the most successful Australian kneeboard shaper of the time to explore it says a great deal about his free-thinking approach to surfing and his relationship with his shapers and the boards he rides. Nov’s design explorations were never wild flights of fancy. They were practical, purposive: anchored in pragmatism and tempered by his increasing experience. His ability to push each design to its performance limit blessed him with a crystal clear comprehension of what worked, what didn’t and why.

Nov’s obvious talent kept him in the sights of certain Northside shapers but his odd combination of open-mindedness and conservatism made him no easy catch. In 1978 Steve Zoeller offered him a sponsorship with Clean and Natural and built three boards with Nov’s design input. These were a completely new direction at the time, with drastically pulled in noses and tails. In the end Nov’s conservative side won through. “I was a fussy surfer and I went back to the safety of the Croziers that I really loved. However, I really appreciated Zoeller’s efforts to experiment with design and it kept my mind open to the future when the 3 fin arrived.”  

Nov had been experimenting with fins from the beginning. In the single fin days it was just size. “At one point I was riding with a fin only 4” high which was so much fun because I learnt to use my rail more in turns as well as doing multiple 360’s. I loved it as a 13 year old grom.”  After the slabs he had a series of flirtations with twin fins that always ended because the boards were simply too skittish.

Then one morning in early 1981 Simon Anderson showed up at Northy with a fin set-up unlike anything seen before. Nov was among the intrigued few who watched Anderson paddle out and surf it. “We were witnessing the first surf of the 3-fin thruster and he ripped on it and came in and said ‘This looks like it’s going to work’. I was looking for an answer to my surfing woes as I liked the twin fin I’d just had made but it was doing the same weird things that they did. Having started work for Craig McDonald at Aware Knees at Brookvale only weeks earlier, I went in that day and asked if I could get a fin box put in the twin fin to make it a tri-fin. I went surfing on it later that day and from the first wave my surfing had changed forever. The board felt tight but loose, I could drive off the bottom in the same track without it wanting to slide and best of all, it went straight for the lip. From that first 3-fin surf my surfing improved by the day and it is still my only choice of fin set-up.”  Considering the surfers he sought to emulate it’s no surprise that he put so much power into his bottom turns, nor that he was the first kneeboarder to fully embrace the thruster. He understood perfectly the breakthrough it represented. “It took years to develop a style that I liked and the advent of the three fin in 1981 really helped me finally sort my surfing out.”

Steve Artis was there to witness it. “Enter the thruster. He immediately adapted to the concept. I’m sure he pushed the performance parameters beyond Simon Anderson’s expectations, not only Simon’s but the whole surfing world - performing high risk manoeuvres 10 years before they became part of the judging criteria and 8 years before Pottz won a World Title in 1989 which apparently redefined competitive surfing by performing high risk manoeuvres such as Nov had been doing.”

When Nov was at his peak, amateur kneeboard competitions still nestled under the organisational umbrella of Surfing Australia. Regional, State and National titles were contested as part of larger events that included other forms of surfing and usually had real atmosphere. It was a scene Nov loved. “I was constantly travelling to kneeboard contests up and down the east coast as well as State, Australian and World Titles. It was great to be a part of the whole surfing scene, watching all the great Aussie surfers develop and them watching good kneeboard surfers in action. The stand-up surfers would often say that the kneelos were the stand out surfers of the day’s action. I would really like to go back to the days when we were a part of Australian surfing competition.”  The battle for the Australian Title was always tough, as Nov points out. “By the time I was getting to the Australian Titles and the main events of Pro Contests, kneeboarding’s fiercest and almost unbeatable competitor, Peter Crawford, was fading from the contest scene and David Parkes had emerged as the guy to beat, winning 3 Aussie titles in a row (1979, 80 and 81) and many of the pro events during that period. Of course once Simon Farrer emerged on the scene in 1983 and 84 he was the guy … we were in awe of his smooth and stylish surfing from the beginning and as he got older, his surfing got more radical and he stamped his authority on kneeboard surfing in a very strong way.” 

Mention of Simon Farrer begs the question: what happened when these two prodigious champions crossed paths at North Narrabeen? Simon doesn’t remember the first time he saw Nov at Northy. “Nov was at this other level that wasn’t accessible to me for one main reason: localism. As a grommet at NN I couldn’t just go out the back in the line-up. There was only one place allowed for me, which was the inside rights (Alley rights) and if I wanted to play with the big boys I had to prove myself. Blood sweat and tears were lost doing it. Thankfully Nov loved the Alley rights and he would be regularly doing these ridiculous 360’s off the lip in front of me that no one has ever matched to this day. I would say that was his trademark manoeuvre. He had it all but that was the one manoeuvre that no one else could match.”

Nov’s competitive career includes two Australian and three World titles. World surfing champions are usually associated with a particular shaper - not so Nov. “My first World Title (Gold Coast, 1982) was on an Aware Knees and I would have kept on going there but Craig McDonald had enough by 1984 and shut up shop. I went to see Terry Fitzgerald at Hot Buttered and he was great so Albert Whiteman shaped my boards for the World Titles in USA in 1984.” After a series of boards from Albert that didn’t quite meet his exacting standards Nov decided to move again in late 1985. “I went and saw Peter Daniell at Mona Vale. He was very interested in shaping my boards so I went to England in 1986 and won my third World Title on a Daniell.”  This was a surfer with unshakeable faith in his own ability, fully conversant with board design principles and able to make his boards work for him when it counted. Nov was a formidable competitor, but his impact on surfing went far deeper than the engraving on any trophy: he redefined style. Farrer again. “Contests wins, world titles, etc. I had no idea what Nov had achieved early on as it meant nothing to me at that time as a grommet. I do remember bouncing back and forth from DY point to NN and saw some amazing kneeboarding going down but Nov was in my eyes by far the most radical and stylish kneeboarder.  His approach on a wave with his rail-to-rail turns & fluent style was very different to the majority of kneelos back in the day, more upright & less grabbing of his rail to do powerful turns. It was pretty cool to see Nov at his home break in his peak.”

Images & Thankyou

Peter Crawford (C/O Justin Crawford)

Mark Garnett

The Novakov Family

Interview Steen

Words by Rob Harwood

Steve Lis does his thing.

In San Diego between the mid 60s and mid 70s, a very tight group of kneeboarders dominated the beaches and reefs, riding hard on boards ranging from spoons through to down the line pintail fliers. Many rode strange chunky little low-rockered twin-fins made by one of the crew, a quiet young long-haired guy who got a kick out of building boards for his friends. He worked on these craft in his family’s garage, and it was there that he first came up with the idea for those stubby little boards they called fish, a design that was to resonate with surfers all over the world for decades to come.

The 1967 genesis of Steve Lis’s fish is so well documented that it’s seeped deep into surfing’s subconscious, finally becoming an article of faith among all surfers. To Stevie it probably matters less that he was first to come up with the concept of a short, low rockered, split-tailed and twin-finned board than that he and his friends had a ball riding them. It’s a design that worked then, works now and always will, butStevie at times refers to it as something independent of him, with a life of it’s own. “It’s a pretty amazing design. I’m really blown away with how it’s maintained through the decades now, I mean there are still guys ripping and riding them.”

To him it’s something he did a long time ago that gave him and his friends a whole lot of fun and has continued doing so over a span of 40 odd years. It began with having a good time with friends and that’s the way it should and does continue.

In our time, Steve Lis is a remarkable man. Despite having ample opportunity, he has never courted attention. He has never followed the surfing press and apart from one successful foray into the US National Championships in 1970 has steered a path well away from competitive surfing. His permanent move to a Hawaiian island retreat some years ago has allowed him to surf every day he’s able, usually with friends, and continue to get a kick out of the simple art of shaping functional surfboards.  Those familiar with his boards derive profound satisfaction from his uncanny ability to understand what will and will not work on a variety of surfcraft. The foundation of his knowledge is planted firmly in his own experience of riding waves. His ability to translate that knowledge into passes of planer, block and drawknife is a gift in which he revels quietly. Far from blowing his own trumpet, his style is more an almost inaudible humming under his breath while he does the dance in the dust that culminates in the birth of the next shape. One suspects it’s been the same since the very first time he got his hands on a broken board at Sunset Cliffs and stripped, reshaped, glassed and sanded it to make something that would allow him to go as fast as he wanted on a wave. 

As a shaper, Stevie’s always done his own thing, concerned with neither fad nor fashion, drawing inspiration directly from what he experiences in his daily sessions, which these days usually means Kauai. He is and always has been a shaper with a strong sense of localness. It’s in a way ironic that it’s probably this that’s kept him relevant, interesting and interested in the development of the modern surfboard. There are few artisans at work in the field of surfboard design and construction with an approach to the craft as pure as Stevie’s. He sponsors no riders, has no racks in shops to regularly fill and empty, no advertising hype to be fulfilled. In an interview a couple of years ago we asked Stevie why. The answer is simple and goes right back to the aftermath of those US National Championships in 1970. “Well, what happened was the commercial thing started becoming involved and I just didn’t really like the commercial aspect of surfing. I kind of shied away from that and decided I would focus on just surfing and I didn’t really want to be a media person. I’ve been reluctant to do any of this stuff because I’d rather just it is what it is and I just go surfing and make boards and that’s about as simple as it is.”

There’s really nothing more to say other than that his work speaks for itself.

Rob Harwood-Legless TV

Thanks and Aloha to Steve & Betsy Lis and the lovely sharing Cher Pendarvis.

This blue surfboard was the first standup surfboard George Greenough made for himself, 1957, while he was still at high school and not yet a dedicated kneeboarder. He rode it as a stand up surfboard in small surf and said it went really well in small waves up to about shoulder high. George cut it in half to make it LONGER because he got too heavy to knee paddle it. 1959 saw the creation of his first kneeboard, made of balsa, then painted baby blue. Looking at this first blue surfboard with the pulled in tail, it looks really functional, like all of Greenoughs designs. This blue surfboard was almost a decade before the so called shortboard revolution of 1966 1967. By the time of 1966 George was on a lightweight fibreglass spoon and getting deep in tubes.

Words & Image courtesy of

http://www.switch-foot.com/

Say g’day.

Paul Mannix, more commonly known as Turtle, is a fixture both in and out of the surf on Phillip Island, as deep as you can get into Victoria’s South-East coast. Paul’s lived on the Island since childhood and knows its waves inside out. Legless.tv caught up with him recently on his return from a boat trip to a remote part of Indonesia that yielded great waves and a few photos to match. We started by asking how he got started. 

Paul picked up his nickname at school. A mate decided his green eyes looked like they belonged to a turtle, and that was that: “The name stuck like glue and even to this day there are a lot of Islanders who still don’t know my real name.” Around the age of 12, Turtle started surfing the beachbreaks at Woolamai on a boogie board. It wasn’t long before something slightly unusual got his attention in the water. “I used to watch the local Phillip Island kneelos:  their speed, style and barrel riding got me stoked.”  One in particular stood out: Neil Luke. “He had (and still has) awesome style and flow on the wave. Back then he had really good hair too.” The desire to emulate that style and flow was what first got Turtle started riding on his knees, but … “Only thing was that I still had a boogie board. I kept kneeling on the lid and finally bought my first kneeboard at 15 years of age.”  The core attraction then was the same as it is now: the feeling. “The main thing is for the barrels. You have a compact, low centre of gravity, but still have all the speed of a conventional stand up board. PERFECT FOR TUBES! I also love the view you get. You’re always facing forward, and being so close to the surface of the water gives you the premium visual experience!”

For any kneeboarder on Phillip Island, Neil Luke is bound to have been a big influence, and not just because of his surfing: as one of the mainstay shapers for Island Surfboards he’s one of only two Australian kneeboard shapers to have been continuously producing state of the art craft since the late seventies. Turtle: “Neil always shaped my boards, and I never remember having one that I didn’t like. I like to be able to personally discuss boards with a shaper. It’s good to sit down and talk about the waves the board is for, what little changes he recommends etc etc.”  Neil’s recent move North to distant Byron Bay left a sizeable gap in the PI surf community, one which another local and long-time friend of Turtle’s has begun to fill. “Local bloke Deano Bould is now shaping boards for Island. He just shaped me a nice narrow 6 footer for Indo and it was awesome. I’m now keen for him to do me some more boards for Island waves.” So what’s Turtle riding? “My quiver ranges from 5’10’’ to 6’3’’. They’re all rounded pin thrusters. Width and thickness are the only things that vary.”

For the last decade or so Turtle’s been building a very successful eco-tourism business but prior to that he led a rather less responsible life. “I travelled around Australia in a 1966 Land Rover ex-army ambulance. It was extremely rough to drive but it went anywhere I wanted to go. I set up the inside with bed, stove, fridge, cupboards, stereo etc. but I kept the outside original – still looked like an army truck. In a way it was kind of like a turtle driving around with a shell on my back!” From his home on the Island, Turtle travelled up the east coast to the Barrier Reef, then retraced his steps to Victoria. Next he headed west across the Nullarbor and then all the way up the west coast to the Bluff before returning home by the same route. “I was gone for three years. My favourite place was Cactus. I stayed there for 3 months. Collected firewood on Sundays with Ron the caretaker, and he let me stay for free. Surfing every day and eating salmon, calamari and abalone all the time. Got a bit sick of salmon though.”

Turtle’s also found time for a couple of trips to New Caledonia. “We hired a catamaran both times, and sailed around the barrier reefs exploring all the reef passes. They were full-on adventure trips. We weren’t the best sailors but we had a good crack. Found lots of awesome waves but nearly sunk the boat a couple of times on the first trip. The best wave was ***** Pass. The wave breaks for 500m when the swell is big enough and wraps right around this reef pass, getting faster and hollower as it breaks down the line.”

The photos above are from that Indo boat trip we mentioned earlier. “We told the skipper that we wanted to avoid the crowds. The swell was good so we headed for the Telos. Most of the waves were a bit shorter than I expected but they had heaps of punch and lots of barrels. The skipper took us to heaps of different places, some that only he knew about. Most of the waves were reefs, but we did go to a couple of beachies too. It was 2 weeks of heaven. The waves ranged from 3 foot to about 10 foot. I loved how you could pick out your board, a Balo puts it in the tender then he drives you out to the line up! When you’ve had enough, wave your board in the air and a couple of minutes later the dude comes and picks you up! Then you go back to the big boat and eat until you feel like your belly will explode.”

We thought it’d be interesting to hear what a PI local thinks of competition surfing, given that the world’s longest running, most competitive and most prestigious kneeboard surfing competition is held practically in his backyard each year. “I’m not a very competition oriented surfer at all. Don’t get me wrong, I love to win, but unfortunately it doesn’t happen enough. The best thing about contests is getting together with a group of blokes who all love kneeboarding and having a good time. It’s also great to swap stories about shenanigans from years gone by. It’s funny how the stories get exaggerated as time goes on!” Turtle’s pretty clear about why he loves riding kneeboards. “I like being different, and I love the camaraderie between kneelos. Meet another kneelo in the water and he will always say g’day.”

PI is blessed with a plethora of waves that work in different tides, swells and winds. “The Island’s awesome because there will nearly always be somewhere decent to surf most days of the year. A lot of interstate kneelos hate Kitty Miller Bay, but this is the place which I reckon is my local. Once you surf it a lot (and sometimes we have no choice!), you understand which ones to take and you can have some great surfs out there.” But the Island still holds its secrets, and they’re not given up lightly. “My favourite place to surf is … an amazing right hand barrel which works only on a handful of the biggest tides each year. When it’s on, take the day off work ‘cos it’ll blow your mind “. Of course if you want to know where it is, you’ll have to paddle out at Kitty Miller Bay and look for a legless type with green, green eyes …

Rob Harwood RH Legless

Images supplied by “turtle”

 KUMU

(Hawaiian. n. Base, bottom, as of a wave. Also, origin, source, starting point, as of a wave)*

Anyone who regularly rides powerful hollow waves is familiar with an inescapable fact of hydrodynamics. Every hollow breaking wave has a point on its face at which the flow of energy from the bottom to the top is such that movement down and forward is impossible. Power surfing is a cycle centred around that point of unbalance. From that critical point we draw the power needed to move around it, and when each draft of power is exhausted we return for more, never straying too far from it, always returning to it. This type of surfing is a balancing act in an unbalancing medium and its root manoeuvre is the bottom turn. Take off on a wave and accelerate as you might, it’s only when you reach the bottom that you tap into the real power. The sole function of the bottom turn is to transfer energy from the breaking wave into the vehicle you’re riding and put it under your control. That first turn marks the beginning of another cycle: that of the ride itself. Off the bottom and around the section, maybe ducking under the lip and racing down the line as the section throws, then flying out on to the face to cut back into the pocket and drive off the bottom again.

A good bottom turn comes from instinct, experience, commitment and control, and makes a solid statement: ‘here and now the power in this wave is being released and by flexing against it here and now I can connect to it and fly’. This nexus of human, energy and medium has always been the foundation of radical power surfing in critical waves. We may speak of it in worn clichés - putting the board on rail; laying it over; cranking a turn; plugging into the power – but these expressions only state fact: power surfing depends absolutely on powerful bottom turns. Photos permit glimpses of what happens when a surfer connects with a wave’s power source in a bottom turn. These are moments of grace under pressure gone before they even register on the naked eye, frozen and preserved to be pored over in minute detail. The way the water releases from the rail here, the way the tail’s buried there, the finger trailing in glassy water, the tip of a fin just barely holding in: almost all of it done by instinct and muscle memory, at a quicksilver speed conscious thought couldn’t hope to match. An instinctive connection to kumu, a cycle within other cycles, played out in saltwater and ending in the dissolution of kinetic energy on a beach, reef or point somewhere near you. Get out, get down and enjoy the ride.

* Mahalo and warm aloha to John R.K. Clark (again)

RH Legless

Craft.

Kneeboard surfing is lucky in being such a tiny branch of the surfing family that the creators of kneemachines haven’t yet been tempted to attempt economies of scale in production. Given that it’s a niche market in a cottage industry, it’s highly unlikely they ever will. Here at the beginning of the second decade of the 21^st century you still can’t buy a kneeboard made on a production line by people who don’t surf. Kneeboards don’t come out of factories, aren’t packed in plastic, and don’t come as part of a package deal. Each one is made by somebody specific, usually for somebody specific. Because there are probably fewer than fifty kneeboard shapers in the entire world. it’s more than likely that you know who made yours.  Kneeboard shapers may be as rare as hen’s teeth but they all have one thing in common: they’re not in it for the money. Most need other work to make ends meet, but they shape kneeboards because they enjoy creation, innovation and above all because they take pride in what they produce with their hands. Some are just learning, others have an enormous wealth of knowledge and experience, but all are craftsmen in the truest sense.

Almost all our shapers are themselves kneeboard surfers who bring a lifetime of unique surfing and shaping experience with them each time they step into the shaping bay. Their ability to see a finished shape deep within a blank and then coax it into being with a few hand-tools is as rare a gift as their understanding of the relationship between board, wave and rider. A good shaper can translate what you tell him about your surfing into a board that works for you. This is neither magic nor mystery: it’s nothing more than the diligent application of skill guided by insight. Like everything in surfing, the act of shaping a board has rhythm, flow and cycles. There is a beginning, middle and end to the process and each part of it is marked by waypoints. Every shape begins life as an idea that must eventually become a balanced three-dimensional form blending outline, deck, bottom, nose, tail and rails. Watching your shaper do this is like watching a perfectly rehearsed dance, a series of deliberate, smooth, purposed movements, each with its function and place. From saw to planer to sanding block, each step leads inevitably to the next until the last piece of gauze is put back on the shelf and the writing goes on the stringer. 

What results feels and looks right as you run a hand along the rail or sight along the bottom: outline, bottom curves, foil and rocker flowing together in a single complete functional form. This is what you pay for when you buy a custom board: direct, affordable access to bespoke equipment hand-made by a master craftsman. There’s no trade qualification, certificate or diploma that makes a shaper. The path to knowledge is long, dusty and followed by few. Their value is measured not in coin but in early morning sessions ending in smiles, waves ridden, stories told, pure unalloyed stoke.

 RH Legless

Blast Surf Designs

History in fin transistions from 1978-2011

Starting from right to left:

Steve Lis Fish

My first big wave shape channel bottom fish

One of my early four fin fish 5’10”

A later model 5’10” fish

And a 6’3” fish 2011

These are the tails of favorite big wave boards i built (with the exception of the orange Steve Lis Fish) and rode.

All boards used for 8’ + Hawaiian Surf

Allan “Buddy” McCray

(from Buddy’s facebook page)

www.blastsurfdesigns.com

A geezer waxing

What has been sorely lacking in the mainstream surf media of late is any coverage of kneeboarding and the young riders who are pushing the limits of what’s still a very progressive form of wave riding. And lest you think ” young riders ” and ” kneeboarders ” is a surfing oxymoron of the first order, you could be in for a surprise. For while it may be true that their numbers fall short of the number of young stand ups, body boarders, or even SUPs they are a minority whose numbers are slowly and steadily increasing. A California surf shop owner recently stated that during the 1970’s and 80’s he used to sell 3 to 5 kneeboards a week. That fell to about 3 to 5 boards a year for almost 20 years. But the past several years it’s back to about 3 to 5 a month.

So what’s the reason for this newfound interest in the sport ? We can rule out the quest for fame or fortune. Kneeboarders fly (literally) under the radar. You won’t see kneeboarding as a backdrop to TV advertising for everything from automobiles to feminine hygiene products. At the Teen Choice Awards, Justin Bieber (whoever he is) won four surfboards, not four kneeboards. It’s not with a kneeboard that mega stars (Cameron Diaz) and dignitaries (Philippine President Gloria Arroyo) choose to pose. It may be the fact that you won’t see a kneeboarder featured in an ad for wetsuits, boardshorts, watches, sandals or anything else is part of the allure of kneeboarding … but there’s something more: kneeboarding is fun.

I’ve been riding waves since 1964. I’ve ridden longboards, shortboards, bodyboards, kneeboards and body surfed. I like kneeboards best because they bring me the most wave riding pleasure. The most fun. I surf for no one’s pleasure but my own. I can’t speak for all the young kneeboarders, but I bet if you asked them they would tell you the same thing. They do it because it’s the most fun. Many young kneeboarders today are quite accomplished at riding standing up, but choose to ride predominantly on their knees. Sensation of speed heightened, late drops, bottom turns that utilize the power of the ocean like no other wave riding vehicle. Tube riding? It’s the hallmark of kneeboarding.

Don’t think I can’t see the irony in an old geezer waxing enthusiastic on the youth movement going on in the sport I love so dearly. For many years in my remote corner of the surfing universe I was the stereotypical kneeboarder: ageing. If only I had a dollar for every time some newcomer to my local lineup uttered the worn phrase, “Don’t see many of you guys anymore”. But what goes around, comes around. And whats coming is a new generation. “Legless” is the term coined by some of the younger practitioners of the sport. I can remember a few less than complimentary terms used to describe kneeboarders. It never bothered me. To be honest, one such slur I happened to fancy was ” half man.” A rather keen observation I thought, for that’s what sets kneeboarding apart from the rest of the wave riding disciplines. Kneeboarders: the centaurs of surfing, but half man, half board instead of half man, half beast. Not perched atop a board, but one with it. Where it goes I go and where I go it goes. This is why we kneeboard. And this is why in years to come today’s young kneelos may hear, “Don’t see many of you guys”. Absent will be the “anymore”.

Jerry Lampert

Oregon USA

When the first whalers and explorers passed through the Pacific in the 18^th century they found the people of Hawaii enjoying a way of life that made most of European civilization look like an exercise in barbarous futility. Blessed with fertile land, a bountiful ocean and an idyllic climate, the benefits the Hawaiian people reaped were good health, ample leisure and the perfect playground in which to enjoy them: the warm Pacific. These were people who had come to a group of tiny islands by voyaging across the empty open sea. They knew her colours, winds and moods. They took food from her and faced her anger. For sport they swam in her, dove deep inside her and rode her waves. Her sound, smell and rhythm was with them always. Europeans of the time described the Hawaiian people as being as at home in the water as on land, and in some cases more comfortable in the water. We struggle today to conceive just how profoundly rich a maritime culture theirs was. Surfing, in its different forms, was part of it.

In traditional Hawaiian culture there are six surf disciplines. He’e nalu, boardriding, is only one of them. In he’e nalu there are four basic riding positions: kipapa, prone; noho, sitting; kukuli, kneeling; ku, standing. Traditional surfers would choose the stance best suited for particular waves and would change stance when necessary during the course of a ride. When Cook first saw surfing at Kealakekua Bay in 1779, he was instantly seduced by the athleticism, grace and above all the magic of it: so much so that a detailed description of the sport was duly entered into his journal. Reading that description today, it’s plain that he spent enough time watching to make out the cycles involved: paddling out, being caught inside, making it to the take-off zone, waiting for a set, and finally, riding a wave. He spent a few hours entranced, no question, and who can blame him. It must have been a glorious day of clear skies with a light offshore grooming a clean swell.

So who was first? Well, it wasn’t anyone any of us have ever heard of. It was someone in the islands, long, long before Cook’s nation ever came to be. Probably a child, brown and lithe and giggling, one of many playing in the water after fishing or digging the taro patch, one who wondered if he could maybe go a little faster riding on that piece of driftwood, the stem of a palm frond, or maybe an old paddle from a canoe. Who was first to ride, first to sit, kneel or stand on a board? If you could go back in time and ask those giggling kids, more than likely even they couldn’t tell you. They’d be too busy having fun to remember pointless details. Nobody knows, nobody can say, and what does it matter? It’s just a beautiful thing to do and somehow reassuring to know that of all the great things men have done to be remembered through the ages, the simple act of riding a wave has outlasted them all: the graceful art of he’e nalu remainsas entrancing for us today as it was for Cook two hundred and thirty two years ago, or those unknown Polynesian children playing on a tropical shore far, far back in time. That’s all that really matters.

“E welo oe a mau loa ‘ku,

Ma ke kai aloha.”

 rh july 2011

Mahalo and warm aloha to John RK Clark and Valentine K Ching.

FAITH

Everybody loves a barrel. Compact, quick and zippery; grinding, square and vicious; slow-rolling, round and bowly; big ones, little ones, medium sized - everyone has their favourite kind. But as much as we love ’em, how much time do we actually spend inside them? We paddle, we turn, we line ‘em up, stall and trim and (if we’re lucky) at best we get a few seconds coverage at a time. Yet a disproportionate amount of the time we spend thinking and talking about surfing is concerned solely with those few seconds.

As individual surfers, the way we approach barrels defines us. In surfing’s modern era, when manoeuvres are becoming increasingly complex and difficult, the simple act of riding particular barrels well (think Pipeline, for instance) is still the benchmark by which skill is judged, while the size and ferocity of the barrels a surfer’s prepared to take on is as much an unfakeable measure of skill and commitment as ever. Inexperience, fear and lack of preparation have no place in hollow waves of consequence. Taking off is itself an irrevocable commitment. Once made, the decision to take off can never be questioned. The paddle in must be swift and sure, without hesitation. The drop from top to bottom must be faced head-on. Every action that follows must flow naturally from instinct acquired over long experience and deep affinity with the unfolding wave. Thought becomes an impediment in a critical situation developing in micro-second increments. The best tube-riders find it impossible to fully explain exactly what they do while stuffed deep in a collapsing wave. Tube-riding seems a skill that flows through them: an ability to stop thinking, inhabit the moment and simply let the body respond and react.

We talk about bravery, knowledge, commitment, skill: for sure all these things play a part in putting a surfer in the way of big barrels. There’s something else though, the glue that binds everything together and makes possible the impossible. It’s the ability to put oneself in a critical and potentially dangerous situation and trust absolutely, despite a heap of evidence to the contrary, that you can find your way out of it by simply trusting in yourself and your skill. In other words, stop thinking and just be. Taking on a large, fast, hollow wave is an act of faith.

All my best barrels I remember most as feelings. One, on a winter’s morning on the Central Coast, is mainly the sensation of speed deep in a quiet cylinder of grey water; another, from about the age of 16 or so, is mainly a blurred sucking sound somewhere behind me while I hang suspended in the still centre of a spinning vortex; yet another is a feeling of immense power poised in dynamic balance all around me, propelling me forward at incredible speed. I made all of these waves. How I managed to pull them off I really can’t say. It’s not really important to me. What is important is that I still have those memories, because after everything’s finished, they’re the reason I was surfing those waves in the first place. They’re not memories of this turn, or that stall, or that particular line. I can’t remember those bits. The best barrels have always come when I stop thinking about what I’m doing and just do it. George Greenough has said time and time again that surfing’s really about the feeling. Tube-riding proves it. Have faith.

Words: Rob Harwood

Surfer: Simon Farrer

Images: Steen Barnes

ALBERT WHITEMAN Memorial Gathering 13th & 14th August

In Sydney late in 1974 a bunch of 12 yr old local kids in boardshorts take time out from bodysurfing the close-out shorebreak at Coogee and scramble around the rocks to neighbouring Gordon’s Bay, clambering over haphazard fallen sandstone slabs, pushing each other more and more. By the end of the summer they’re free-climbing full-blown cliff faces.

In late 1975 the same bunch of bodysurfing kids start riding simple surfcraft at the Coogee reef they call Southie. By summer’s end they’ve graduated to riding their cheap coolites to destruction in the shorebreak when the big southerly swells kick in.

Through 1976 they start riding kneeboards out at Southie, constantly pushing each other to go higher, faster, deeper. One in particular stands out: a nuggety little sun-burned kid with a tangle of sun–bleached red hair, riding a McGrigor fishtail. “He had no fear. He was a huge talent.”

By late 1977 the Coogee ratbags have migrated over the hill to the north end of Maroubra. They hang at The Coliseum and surf the Dunny Bowl. Someone kicks off a club, Maroubra Kneeriders Association, and the competition that’s already been going on for years suddenly has scoresheets and judges. The red-headed kid begins officially winning contests. He starts riding twin finned rounded pintails for Hot Buttered/Earthrise, picks up a few more sponsors and life looks pretty good.

Such was the start of the short but spectacular surfing career of Albert Whiteman. From these humble beginnings his surfing life described an arc that took him travelling around Australia, Indonesia and Hawaii, won him a cabinet full of trophies and gave him a set of skills that enabled him to conceive and execute both complex surf designs and radical surfing manoeuvres. Within the broader surfing community, that same manic energy and absolute focus that drove him to scale cliffs at the age of twelve earned him the recognition and respect accorded those whose surfing creativity and self-expression in waves of consequence is not tempered by fear. From Oahu’s North Shore, Bud McCray had this to say about Albert.

“Albert Whiteman lived his life with great enthusiasm and passion. He lived and breathed kneeboard surfing. A creative soul infused with gifts of imagination, vision, and sustained focus to bring to fruition his own kneeboard creations. Through hard won wave and surfboard design knowledge he possessed the courage to test them himself in every surf situation. Through his love of kneeboard surfing, he encouraged and inspired Gavin Coleman and Simon Farrer to greatness as well as creating the kneeboards they rode. Their boards, and the boards so many others around the kneeboard surfing world ride now, are the direct result of Albert’s influence. It was an honor and privilege to know and surf with Albert. R. I. P. Albert Whiteman … although knowing him, I doubt there is any peaceful rest. No doubt it’s wild vortices of maniacal enthusiasm and mirthful lunacy that is his spirit. So let it be RIP! As he rode his kneeboards. I truly miss the crazy little bastard!”

Bud McCray

Sunset Beach Hawaii

June 11, 2011

On August 11^th 1991, Albert took his own life. The loss to his family and friends was and remains indescribable. The loss to the kneeboard surfing community was and remains enormous. As a competitor, an inspiration, a mentor and also as an entertainer, he left many lives enriched for his presence. There are a thousand tales about Albert, some often told, some yet to be told, and, as those who knew him will agree, some barely fit for telling. A tiny piece of the man lives on in each: long may we share them.

On August 13^th and 14^th this year there will be a gathering of kneeboarders at Bendalong, on the NSW South Coast, to remember Albert. There will be surfing, there will be socialising, there will be reminiscing. Albert will be there in the memories we share.

Rob Harwood,

June 12 2011

Could this illustration & paragraph taken from a book published in 1841 by Francis Allyn Olmstead, be the first documented sighting of a kneerider in history

Taken From

“Incidents of a Whaling Voyage”

Chapter 18

Pages 222-223

“After witnessing this striking instance of the zeal of Governor Kuakini for scientific objects, I took a stroll down to the sea shore, where a party of natives were playing in the surf, which was thundering upon the beach. Each of them had a surfboard, a smooth, flat board from six to eight feet long by twelve to fifteen inches broad. Upon these, they plunged forward into the surf, diving under the roller as it broke in foam over them, until they arrived where the rollers were formed, a quarter a mile from shore perhaps, when watching a favorable opportunity, they rose upon some huge breaker, and balancing themselves, either by kneeling upon their boards or extending themselves full length, they dashed impetuously towards the shore, guiding themselves with admirable skill and apparent unconsciousness of danger, in their lightning-like courses, while the bursting combers broke upon each side of them, with deafening noise. In this way, they amuse themselves hour after hour, in sports which have too terrific an aspect for a foreigner to attempt, but which are admirably adapted to the most amphibious character of the natives.”

From a weekend chat with longtime legless legend Ron Romanosky, Rob Harwood and Steen Barnes.

Ron chatting about kneemachines and the wedge

http://www.romanoskykneeboards.com/2010/  

One day in the fall of ’64 I met a guy at Wedge who let me use his bellyboard.  That day was cold and foggy, but the side waves were incredibly long and fast – too fast for me to bodysurf.  They were also sizeable – maybe starting at 3 or 4’ near the jetty and going through 6 – 10’ walls for 50 yards or more.  My first ride on this thing (a sawed-off green surfboard over 4’ long with a huge single fin) exceeded all my expectations of what it’s meant to be like.  The sensations of speed and control were mesmerizing, not to mention the lengths of ride possible.  I’d ride several more waves on the thing and it clicked in my soul:  from that day on I would be a board rider.  I would build and ride my own crude and laughable bellyboards, occasionally riding commercially built ones by a guy named Mouse.  I got to a point where I wanted to do more on these boards than simply belly ride them.  So I began knee riding them, becoming the first to do so at Wedge.  Of course this lead to building boards designed specifically for knee boarding, inspired hugely by George Greenough’s unique wave in The Endless Summer.

Ron Romansoky

All images courtesy of Ron

Check Ron out at 1:39 minutes in

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dY_yhnTwKjE