31.1

On the cover: David Nuuhiwa shows the 22nd Street locals some barrel-strength beachboy style. 1964, Hermosa Beach. Photographer LeRoy Grannis’ back-of-print note reveals it was a Friday.

From the symbolic figures to the modern punters, the culture pillars to the remote outposts, the hero shots to the candid representations, TSJ 31.1 offers a perspective found nowhere else in surfing.

Features
Photograph by Tom Pearsall

Page 26

Portfolio: Group Show

Twenty frames of contemporary action, lineups, and personas.

The Station Hand Photograph by Mike Riley

“I have lots of scars where I should’ve had stitches. But the docs were just too far away, so I never went. Luckily, it was never anything major. Dad always made sure we had enough confidence and skill to be able to handle ourselves in whatever size it was, and then he just left us to it. You’ve got to be able to handle yourself growing up here.”

Page 52

The Station Hand

Whether running full pelt through the bowl or leveraging natural aesthetics, Imogen Caldwell is desert born.

Photograph by Leo Hetzel

While the origins of the maneuver that had overtaken its parent are somewhat disputed—one theory is that Rabbit Kekai pioneered nose work on the hot curl board at Waikiki in the 1940s; another contends that Dale Velzy first hung five toes, then ten, then heels, at Manhattan Beach in the early 1950s—a couple of decades later, it had come to mean everything, at least in California. And no one did it better—perhaps hasn’t since—at that time than young David Nuuhiwa.

Page 62

Virtuoso

The dark and graceful swagger of David Nuuhiwa.

Photograph by Andrew Shield

Yes, in some ways, it’s a paradise. In others, it’s a brooding isle of nostalgia and bitterness haunted by the ghosts of vagrant spirits.

Page 106

Lonely in the Pacific

Lord Howe Island is all kinds of appealing. It starts with no cell service.

Art by Geoff McFetridge

Page 86

The Intentional Line

For artist and designer Geoff McFetridge, clean presentation is the result of deep rigor.

Support independent surf journalism.
Become a member.

Subscribe
Photograph by Mike Moir

The pier is where the eses still cruise in donked-out icecream classics—rims spinning while the switches get hit for the bump and dip, blasting music on a Sunday with “Suavecito” playing… It’s a soul hanging on for dear life—crying for help where there is none—and a body expelled below it upon the shore weeks later, when the pier is finally ready to let go… When you surf the pier, you wear these environmental appropriations. The weight of its history and meaning push against your chest.

Page 42

Among Piers

Whether world-renowned or mere beachside tourist attractions, these simple landings breed virulent surf cultures.

Illustration by Olga Prader

Little things started to hurt. Your pop-ups weren’t so snappy. You checked San Onofre on the cams. You asked your shaper about a gentleman’s thruster. Within some temporal twitch of an eye, an Advil-aided co-consciousness reared up, one that raised more substantial questions.

Page 16

Essay: Young Blood

Youth is short. Surfing is long. Finesse is required.

Photograph by Alfred Maldonado

Page 98

Song of the Sinosaurus

Circus rat to Rocket Fish. Epoxy to Hanjin container loads. Clyde Beatty defies easy criticism.

The Surfer’s Journal is the perfect gift for every surfer.

GIFT TSJ
Illustration by Sören Kunz

So you’re put through a mill that I think would keep anybody pretty grounded. If you could make movies for $1, I think a lot of psychopaths would flourish.

Page 20

Between Takes

An interview with Stephen Gaghan.

Photograph by Ryan Craig

Page 118

Undercurrents

And the pitch…Alessandro Slebir, headed for a mussel-laden strike zone at Santa Cruz Harbor.

Photograph by Mark McInnis

The fishing has been good lately, the river mouths densely populated with seagulls, pelicans, osprey, people with rods, and the obvious others I’d rather not see. It’s that last group that leaves me feeling ominously cold every time I enter the water here.

Page 120

Field Report

Sessions Measured in Millimeters: Bodysurfing alone in the Pacific Northwest.

Photograph by Jeff Divine

We marveled at the significance of this small patch of sand. In that vast ocean, it served as a source of freshwater and a place of rest for fishermen who ranged thousands of miles in small, open craft with hardly any creature comforts.

Page 124

Surfing Around

Real Recognizes Real: Flippy Hoffman shows his colors offshore of a remote island in the Indian Ocean.

Purist surf energy from Page One to close-of-book, delivered directly to your door.

Subscribe