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The Resistance
By Dean LaTourette with Richard Kenvin

The paddle-in devotees at Maverick’s could spice up the tow-in debate if they’d just get a little more Taliban about it: chant slogans and burn effigies, pronounce a fatwah or something. But that’s not their style. Instead, the core-crew focuses their energies on pushing the limits of waves that can be paddled into. Their approach is counter-intuitive and fully-committed; their equipment reflects the philosophy at the leading edge of big wave surfing today.

Granny and Doc
By Craig Lockwood

Doc and Leroy were lifelong friends and together established the first comprehensive documentation of wave riding on the West Coast. Like a conjuror, Craig Lockwood brings us back to the Southern California of an earlier age, when the sea was teeming, the surf empty, and two men worked to capture the subtle joy of surfing on film.

Wilbur, We Hardly Knew ye
By Ben Marcus

That laughable, buck-toothed kook, THE kook of all kooks, that ever-striving, rarely achieving imp whom we all hope we don’t resemble (but probably do more than we’d like to admit) makes a guest appearance in TSJ. Call it a profile. You’ll also get the story behind the creation of every surfer’s favorite low man on the totem pole. Rumor has it he’s retiring—after twenty good ones he’s had enough—and moving to an undisclosed island in the Pacific.

Upright
Beachboy Paddle Surfing
By Todd Bradley

So much of surfing is about changing perspectives, going from the open shoulder to the tight cylinder of a bending tube, tropical reef conditions to forest lined shores, big waves to small waves. Hoe he’e nalu is another shift—from prone paddling to standing up with a paddle—that’s drawing converts like a tent revival with spiked lemonade. You see them these days gliding the smooth water outside, then digging in with that long paddle, picking up a rising swell and rushing shoreward like Polynesian royalty.

The Spot
By Kimball Taylor

There are a series of estuaries and headlands down in the land of the eagle and the snake that form perfect—truly perfect—right point set-ups. This is not news. But the WCT event there early last summer was noteworthy since, in the mysterious web of law, lore, and custom that stands for “culture” in surfing, the waves in the region were considered secret—even if plenty of people knew of them. Kimball Taylor investigates the impact of high dollar wave riding on a remote fishing town.

Bluewater Gold Rush
By Tom Kendrick

When the first swell of the season hit Point _____, I did an immediate U-turn, speeding back to Irish Beach to get my board. Upon returning to the parking lot at the cove I witnessed an amazing sight—George Tomlinson was flying off the top of a wind blown twelve-foot wave on his surf ski. He sat on top of the strange Australian-made device with his feet strapped in front of him, and a kayak paddle clenched in his fists as he twisted high in the spraying sea air...

Plus... early Hawaii with Frank Donahue, a portfolio featuring rather nasty pits over slightly damp reefs, color and texture with artist Ned Evans, and ghosts of the alaia haunting Tea Tree Point.

Thank you for delving into another issue with us, it’s your support that gives the Journal its space to breathe, and is therefore a crucial part of our aesthetic. Consider subscribing. and have the surfing discussions—both verbal and visual—delivered.

Christian Beamish
Associate Editor
The Surfer’s Journal