Oscar-nominated actor Minnie Driver slams
wave forecasting titan Surfline, attacks followers, for wild gender
imbalance on social account, “Why do you virtually never show
videos of women surfing… show up and recognise it’s f*%king
2022!”
By Derek Rielly
Surfline and its fans under fire from long-time
Malibu surfer and Hollywood star…
British-born actor Minnie Driver, star of cult movie
classics Grosse Point Blank and Big Night, as well as box-office
smash Good Will Hunting, has taken to social media to vent
over Surfline’s lack of gender diversity in its content.
Driver, who is fifty-two, became enraged after the wave
forecasting titan posted a clip of Maui’s Eli Hanneman waving a
whiff of Pipeline’s fragrance on his finger.
“I’m a long-time surfer. I lived in this community in Malibu for
years… Early, late evening, whenever the wind’s good, waves
are good, I’ll be out there.”
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Convicted pervert wave forecasting tool
Swellnet attempts molestation of ultra hard surf website, posts
revenge porn featuring principal on extremely popular open
forum!
By Chas Smith
Ménage à trois.
A steamy, unseemly and entirely unexpected
naughtiness broke out, overnight or during cocktail hour
(depending on current location), between besieged Australian voyeur
website Swellnet and your very own BeachGrit. Days ago,
the pert latter revealed that the aged and lightly gross former had
become in trouble for illegally erecting cameras in order to gaze
at virginal waves. A revolt against the perversion broke out
amongst Swellnet regulars which was brutally quashed.
Censorship etc. not un-similar to a Jeffery Epstein NDA.
BeachGrit, however, part of no ugly trafficking cabals,
exposed the scandal and the righteous indignation that flowed,
forthwith, through Australia’s morally upright.
Major media picked up the
story, with Australian officials decrying Swellnet’s
“lack of consent” and “surveillance of public space.”
Dirty business.
Exposed, once again, Swellnet’s chief editor, Stu Nettle, took
to the most popular surf forum in order to post revenge porn.
Nettle wrote on BeachGrit:
Appreciate all the free advertising, Chas. As big as
Surfline? We wish, but we’ll get there.
For the record: The Fishos camera has consent. A contract
was signed in 2020. Almost every social media post about it has
been incorrect, most particularly the administrator of the Respect
Bells Beach FB page who’s been citing clauses in legislation that
simply don’t exist.
We’re currently going through correct channels to clarify
our position. Normal transmission will resume shortly.
Embarrassment? Nah, but not realising your Australian biz
partner wanted BeachGrit to partner up with Swellnet might cut
it.
For the record, we said no.
The aforementioned ménage à trois between Nettle,
BeachGrit principal Derek Rielly and Chas Smith a clear
act of revenge porn even though Swellnet apparently denied consent.
I would have been happy in the tub, to be honest, as I am sure
Reilly would have been especially since he solicited.
I’ve always admired his taste.
Hurtful.
Deeply hurtful.
Also “Normal transmission will resume shortly?”
Cosby-esque.
The question now, will Swellnet attempt to cross swords once
again or go back to knocking on doors and announcing itself to
neighbors as a registered sex offender?
Currently more questions than answers.
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In ultra-embarrassing slap, Australia’s
surf forecaster Swellnet ordered to remove “creepy” voyeuristic
camera pointing at Victorian reef break!
By Chas Smith
Lewd and rude.
Days ago it was announced, here, that
Australia’s answer to Surfline, Swellnet, had recently decided to
strong-arm the public by erecting cameras pointing toward cherished
once-secret waves while also brutally censoring opposition on its
various pages. Extremely un-American. Mostly un-Australian too.
Totalitarian, though, and lewd.
Following expose of the
dastardly moves on BeachGrit, a source that
the forecaster has been unable to silence, the Great Ocean Road
Coast and Parks Authority ordered the cameras ripped out forthwith.
An official with liberty to
speak declared, “We have directed that the cameras at
Fishermans Beach be turned off immediately and removed. We will
continue to investigate the circumstances of other CCTV cameras
that have been installed without consent.”
Ultra-embarrassing.
Swellnet has also come under fire for installing looky-loos at
Winkipop though the GORCPA is unable to curtail the “surveillance
of public space” due the fact that the cameras are on private
property.
All this creepy behavior, lack of consent, etc. would, in a
perfect world, lead to Swellnet being banned from coming within 100
meters of schools and having to go knock on neighbors’ doors and
inform them of its exposed proclivities.
Here’s to hoping justice is served.
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Long Read: “Dick Brewer was a visionary, a
creative collaborative genius, a master craftsman… one of the
most important individuals in the modern history of surfing”
By Andy St Onge
"RB transformed what a surfboard could be into
something that all surfers could ride to glory in the realization
of one’s wildest dreams."
Dick Brewer aka“RB” went off to the big blue wave on the
other side just over a week ago(May 28, 2022) after a long,
extraordinarily creative and prolific life, one that touched and
enhanced the lives of millions of surfers and otherwise
revolutionized both what a surfboard is (or could be) and what
surfing is (or could be).
Brewer was a visionary, a creative collaborative genius, a
master craftsman, an all-around waterman, a wizard-like guru to the
best and most innovative surfers and shapers of multiple
generations, and, because of all that and more, perhaps one of the
most important individuals in the modern history of
surfing.
Suffice to say, were it not for the ever and always ambitious
Brewer — THE GREATEST SURFBOARD DESIGNER AND SHAPER OF ALLL TIME —
we wouldn’t be catching and riding the waves we surfers do every
day.
Once asked what “recommendations” he had for young
people, Brewer replied:
Surfing is the most beautiful thing you can do. What we’re
really doingwhen we are surfing . . . is the real
you; the best possible you as a surfer.
And that’s what we’re trying reach! And when we’re really
sincerely tryingto get better and improve — in
addition to the physical exertion, exercise,and
hyperventilation — we actually get younger! We do get better! We
getpure!
Closer to the Jesus Christ that’s in every one of
us!
Born in Minnesota in 1936, Richard Allan Brewer was the son of a
tool and dye maker who moved his family to Long Beach in Southern
California to work as an aircraft machinist in 1939.
The young Brewer was trained by his father in the trade of
“shaping” things, primarily metal, as well as wood and
plastics.
“It’s very easy for me to shape something,” Brewer
reflected, “I worked with my dad shaping steel since I was 16
years old. I feel comfortable in my work,” presciently
observing that: “My skill level is probably way beyond what I’m
doing [as a surfboard shaper]. I like not being over my
head.”
His exceptional skills for hand-crafted precision were matched
by a brilliant, creative mind that envisioned the highest range of
performance possibilities.
These creative possibilities began not only in his father’s tool
and dye machine shop, but came to fruition in the study and
application of how things work (i.e., go fast and turn),
firstly model airplanes, where he learned the fundamental physics
of aerodynamics; and later in the motor-racing industry, where he
learned mechanics.
This is an important point of distinction worth emphasizing, in
that Brewer didn’t see himself so much as an “artist,”
per se, as rather more of an engineer — a hands-on
scientist.
Although he never had much interest in art or woodwork (“I’m
no carpenter” he has said with a mixture of pride and
derision), RB studied mechanical engineering in college. Brewer saw
himself, in his words, as a “tool and dye maker,” a kid who
worked hard with his father and could “run every machine in the
shop by the time I was 13 years old. I’m an engineer: a precision
man. I can make anything out of steel.”
What he learned from building high-performance model airplanes
was how to construct “stunt and combat remote control”
systems on a wire.
After having won all the meets on the West Coast, Brewer
traveled the country flying his model airplanes, making 3rd Place
in the “Stunt & Combat” event in the 1956 U.S.
Championships.
RB was also racing and tooling on cars — hot rods and dragsters
— at Southern California dragstrips and speedways. In the air and
on the track, Brewer’s designs were the fastest and most
maneuverable — a promising sign of things to come . . .
Brewer started surfing in 1958 when he got a board from Dick
Barrymore.
“It was similar to a mini-gun,” he said, “and probably
more advanced than any other board in California at the
time.”
As a designer of model airplanes, he “knew that the
design [of surfboards] had a long way to go.”
Brewer shaped his first surfboard soon thereafter in 1959. He
hit the ground running.
I started in my garage in Surfside, California. I dropped
out of college that year [1961] and moved to Hawaii. I never
went back. I started Surfboards Hawaii that year.
In Hawaii, on Oahu’s fabled, remote, rural North Shore — the
big-wave Mecca of the universe — Brewer opened the first “surf
shop” in Haleiwa in 1961 called “Surfboards
Hawaii.”
As a way to promote his fledgling business, RB put a broken Greg
Noll big-wave surfboard in the window display. The implications
were obvious enough. If one wanted a real surfboard — one
that worked in the demanding and merciless waves of Paumalu (Sunset
Beach) and Waimea Bay — then one needed a Brewer. Such
confidence and audacity!
Greg Noll was, at the time, probably the most prominent “big
wave rider” and retail surfboard builder, due mostly to his own
unrelenting self-promotion.
In such regard, Brewer was once overheard remarking: “Show me
a photo of Greg Noll on a wave he actually made!”
In any event, the physically-imposing Noll, much larger than
Brewer, was less than amused by this cocky upstart’s advertising
campaign, confronted RB aggressively at a party in Haleiwa not long
afterwards and punched him in the face, giving Brewer a bloody
nose. Such are the beginnings of Surfboards Hawaii.
Nonetheless, Brewer was a quick study and adapted his creative
skills to the best waves for the best surfers in the world. Not
coincidentally, he was mentored by the greats of the era: Pat
Curren, Bob Shephard, and Joe Quigg, most prominently, as well as
his lifelong friend and contemporary Mike Diffenderfer. Learning
and taking off from where these pioneers left off, Brewer literally
revolutionized the shape and design of the modern big-wave gun.
When I opened Surfboards Hawaii in 1961, Joe Quigg, Pat
Curren, and Bob Shephard were in their prime. I was a tool and dye
maker and I understood everything that was happening at the time.
These guys had the greatest impact on my shaping. Bob was my
teacher, however. And he learned from Joe, a really mellow, great
designer. Quigg was into soft rails, dropped in the back. Whereas
Curren was into hard rails and flat bottoms. Pat put as much flat
bottom as he could on a board . . . . Anyway, Pat and Bob were the
greatest, but both dropped out and I took over where they left off.
From 1962 until late 1970, my boards — Brewers — literally ruled
Waimea Bay. To this day, 10 [or more] out of 30 boards will be
Brewers when Waimea breaks. In 1967 I dropped out of[the
scene/lineup]at Waimea; but I rode it every time it broke for
seven years before that.
Between 1961-64 Brewer set the standard for big-wave board
design. He simply made the finest, most elegant and functional
Waimea Guns in the world. No one could (or did) dispute that basic
fact. Brewers completely dominated the lineup not only at Waimea
Bay, but also at Sunset Beach, Makaha, and, later, the Banzai
Pipeline, Honolua Bay (on Maui), and Hanalei Bay (on
Kauai).
Brewer was at the vanguard of not only the big-wave world, but
of high-performance surfing more broadly considered throughout the
Hawaiian Islands, including the celebrated “hot dog” surf
spots of Town (Honolulu) and the South Shore of Maui.
And he shaped and designed (under other surfboard labels,
including “Hobie” and “Bing”) for the best surfers of
that — and subsequent — generations.
The pantheon: Buzzy Trent, Fred Van Dyke, Jose Angel, Ricky
Grigg, Paul Gebauer, Peter Cole, Kealoha Kaio, Richard “Buffalo”
Keaulana, Kimo Hollinger, Jock Sutherland, Butch Van Artsdalen,
Eddie Aikau, Buddy-Boy Kahoe, Tiger Espere, Jackie Eberly, Barry
Kannaiaupuni (BK), Jeff Hakman, and many, many more — including the
President of the United States! Everyone wanted a
Brewer!
Around 1962, Brewer started building “smaller” boards for
summertime surf spots on Oahu’s South Shore. These “Summer
Semis” ranged in length from 9’-9’8”.
In 1963, just after JFK had visited Oahu (the first time a
President had visited the new state of Hawaii) in June, Brewer
received a letter from the White House, Office of The President,
commissioning a surfboard. JFK was an avid swimmer (he was on the
Harvard Varsity Swim Team), body surfer, and occasional
recreational surfer (he caught waves at his wife’s family’s beach
club at Bailey’s Beach in Newport, Rhode Island). Kennedy met with
Duke Kahanamoku during that June 1963 visit; it’s possible, if not
probable that when (if) JFK inquired about the chances of acquiring
a surfboard, The Duke recommended the best there was: Brewer
atSurfboards Hawaii.
Not long after receipt of the distinguished letter of commission
(certainly the first, if not the last in American Presidential
history), RB made Kennedy a “Summer Semi”; but, tragically,
JFK was assassinated in November of ’63 before RB could deliver it
to the President. According to Brewer, he rode the board he made
for Kennedy the following summer of 1964 at Ala Moana Bowls during
a giant South Swell.³
By 1964, surfers on Brewer boards had won three Makaha World
Championships and two Duke Kahanamoku Invitationals, which was the
most prestigious contest in the world. Outside and beyond so-called
competitive or “contest” surfing, Brewer’s search for and
realization of perfection was manifest and actualized each and
every swell, set wave after set wave, by the most outstanding and
innovative surfers.
In 1966, while at Bing Surfboards, Brewer built the first
“Bumble Bee Model” (named after the black and yellow color
scheme) for surf prodigy (and later acid casualty) Jackie Eberly.
This was the first ultralight pintail gun: a 10’4” with significant
tail rocker. Brewer observed: “If you lifted the back third of
that board, it would look almost identical to Roger Erickson’s
board today [in 1990]. Jackie Eberly did fades and turns at
Waimea Bay on that board that were [pause]unbelievable.”
Later, he made what he called “The Pipeliner” and
“Lotus” models (under the Bing label) for Butch Van
Artsdalen and Jock Sutherland respectively — two of the best
goofyfoot (and swtichstance) surfers of all time — as well as the
first Masters of Pipeline. Jock won the 1967 Duke Invitational on
another Brewer — a 9’9” single fin pintail — with the Duke
Label. It was at this time (1967) that RB started hanging out with
an exceptional surfer from Huntington Beach named Gary “Chappy”
Chapman. Chappy asked Brewer to make him an 8’6”. The Doors of
Perception were about to open . . . wide. Brewer remarked:
“Chappy was actually the one that encouraged me to keep going
shorter and shorter.”
Chappy had been riding Brewers (under both the Harbour
Surfboards and later Plastic Fantastic labels) on the
Coast (California) before he transitioned to Paumalu (Sunset Beach)
on the North Shore. He was an underground hot shot — arguably the
most advanced surfer at the time in terms of high performance —
that surfed and thought like nobody else. And Chappy gave Brewer
the feedback, insights, and motivation to go shorter,
lighter, and thinner. At a time when Sunset and Waimea guns were
averaging 10’8” in length (and weighing in at 25-30 lbs. or more),
Chappy was spurring RB to design and shape him ultralight 9’ and 8’
“mini guns.”
Not only did these rocketships exceed Chappy’s expectations, but
they impressed other progressive surfers of the era, perhaps most
notably BK (Barry Kannaiaupuni), who thrilled at the new horizons
in wave-riding that had been revealed. These were mini guns,
lithe, sharp stilettos —not just cut-down, clunky, round-bottomed
tankers like the Australians (Bob McTavish and Nat Young) were
riding, which didn’t work in the Island Juice at spots like Sunset
Beach and Honolua Bay.
Where the Aussies were spinning out and dragging-ass, the Brewer
Team was Blowin’ Soul and laying out progressive new lines
of power surfing from deep within and behind the curl. Brewer and
Chappy and the rest of the Brewer test pilots were on the cusp of
something entirely new and different . . . they knew — and
could feel — it palpably.
Around 1967-68, while still with Bing, Brewer began
experimenting with LSD and building some radical new
shapes.
He recalls: “[Jeff] Hakman, [Jock] Sutherland,
[Joey] Cabell . . . We were tripping on acid and freaked
out! There were colors all over the glassing room — imagine what it
was like?! — and there were all these miniguns lying around the
factory. That’s all we were making: miniguns! Then Bing walked in
and went: ‘What’s happening here?!?’ These boards didn’t look like
surfboards to Bing. He was distraught and threw us all out. I don’t
think he was too tuned-in.”
So, RB moved to Maui and started another surfboard company:
“Lahaina Surf Designs” (LSD), where he set up shop in old
Lahaina. There he collaborated with a new generation of “test
pilots”: Chappy, his kid brother Craig (a.k.a. “Owl”), Reno
Abellira, Jimmy Lewis, David Nuuhiwa, Gerry Lopez, Jock Sutherland,
Jackie Baxter, Sam Hawk, and other luminaries on the innovation and
refinement of a radical, thinner, lighter, more high-performance
“shortboard.”
This was a seminal, indeed magical (and oft misunderstood or
misrepresented/distorted) Point of the Evolution of
Surfboard Design and High-Performance Surfing.
Far from the crowds and limelight, Brewer focused quietly yet
intensely on discovering and pushing the outer limits of
possibility. He didn’t seek recognition from the media or so-called
surf “industry,” he rather sought perfection — and peace of
mind — if not Nirvana itself.
In that old shop next to the Lahaina Cannery, with Jimmy Lewis
glassing everything RB shaped; Jock and Hakman attending community
college nearby; and Chappy laying down speed lines at Honolua each
and every swell, the advancement of the modern surfboard
accelerated exponentially. By 1968, a Zenith had been reached,
perhaps the summit of Brewer’s creative self-actualization as an
innovator.
The modern shortboard had arrived.
With respect to one board in particular — a 6’7” purple-brown
round tail single fin rocket shaped for Reno — Brewer
recollects:
I knew I was going to blow minds because this was the
first round-tail. I’d say Reno, Chappy, Lopez, and me were all
involved in that board. It had a single 4oz on the bottom and a
single 6oz on top. Reno weighed 130 llbs [all three of the
riders named were relatively small in stature] dripping wet, and
the board came in under 9lbs. It had natural rocker — something
Lopez and I were into. He and Cabell had just started going into
the “S-deck,” straight rocker tails, but that board still had
natural rocker. We sawed the pintail off, then started fully
rounding the corners. A lot of people weren’t aware of it, but
Reno’s board became the basic design for the Weber Performer. It
was the evolution of what we were doing — sawing, rounding things
off to make them looser.
From there, Brewer’s crescendos pulsed in five-year cycles, with
new standards and benchmarks in design (foils, rails, and rocker),
shaping, glassing, and blanks being achieved at regular intervals.
A myriad of different things was happening/changing
fast.
Something most don’t recognize, much less contemplate or
understand, is RB’s place in this revolutionary period of time; and
the central role he played in the universal transformationof
how surfboards were constructed.
He was not simply a visionary genius and master craftsman when
it came to design and shaping, he was also leading the
technological advancement of the materials and methods of surfboard
construction, most notably blanks, foils, fins, and glassing with
people like Jack Reeves and a cantankerous chemical engineer named
Grubby Clark.
Regarding the evolution of surfboard foam and blanks (the raw
material from which most surfboards are made), Brewer
remembers:
In 1970 I flew to California and walked into Clark Foam in
Laguna Nigel, walked around the shop, and laughed at all the
blanks. Grubby Clark and Dick Morralis said, “Dick, what are you
laughing at?” I said, “these blanks, they’re funny looking.” They
asked, “Why are they funny looking?” I said, “Because they’re round
on top and they’re thick in the back. They’re supposed to be flat
on top and thin in the back.” Then I walked out, went and got on an
airplane and flew back to Hawaii. Two weeks later, Grubby showed up
with two big square blocks of foam and said, “Dick, will you shave
me some things like that?” I said, “Yeah, but not if the rest of
the surfboard builders can buy it. They don’t deserve it.” Grubby
said, “OK. Just make ‘em for me.” So, I shaped the 8’1”, the 9’2”,
and the 7’4”, which were the first properly foiled surfboard
blanks. All surfboard blanks now look and are functionally-foiled
the same as those blanks.
Around this time, in the early 1970s, RB started “Brewer
Surfboards” on Kauai (whereabouts Jericho Popler spontaneously
sketched the now famous “Brewer Lei” logo on a napkin),
which has become the most enduring and well-known design in surfing
history — nothing evokes the spirit and quality of Hawaiian Big
Wave Surfing more than the Brewer Lei.
A new generation Brewer Team represented the underground of
primo big wave riders on the North Shore, although there was a
changing of the guard, with fresh talents like Mike Ho, Buzzy
Kerbox, and Mark Foo replacing Lopez and Reno, who left Brewer and
went to the new “Lightning Bolt” label. Chappy also began to
fade away — “I recognized that I had to let go of Gary,” RB
lamented, “Chappy was just one of those shooting stars and The
Best of the young surfers around.”
After that, Brewer started working more closely with Owl
(Chappy’s brother) and Sam Hawk — both of whom went on to surfing
glory at Sunset, Pipeline and Waimea (not to mention historic
sessions at Maalaea Harbor and Honolula Bay), as well as becoming
the standard-bearer protegés of Brewer’s shaping legacy, a
tradition that both Sam (to a lesser extent) and Owl (more so) have
maintained to this day — especially under the
“Brewer-Chapman” label.
Despite an inherent distrust of outsiders, RB knew talent and
potential when he saw it, particularly in a wild-eyed and
bushy-haired young Australian from Narrabeen: Terry
Fitzgerald.
Brewer witnessed Terry Fitz at “Arma Hut” (now called
Rocky Point) display a radical new form of high-performance soul
surfing.
Brewer stated that he “recognized the guy as the best surfer
in the world — the best I’d ever seen in fact — ‘cause of his speed
lines. I’d definitely put Fitz in a category with BK out at Sunset.
There was also Sammy Hawk — he had a year right after Fitz in ’71
when he was just charging.”
RB reached out to Fitz and the two collaborated together on
thin, down-railed mini-guns that redefined the limits of the
possible once more, which led to Fitzy staring his own, now
prestigious, label called “Hot Buttered Surfboards” (a
moniker he lifted from graffiti Owl scrawled on the shaping room
door: “hot buttered soul”).
Meanwhile, Brewer continued to worked closely with Sammy and Owl
on developing the big-wave guns.
A key member of this group was a young surfer from Miami, the
aforementioned Jack Reeves (a.k.a. JR). Along with his bro Jeff
Hakman, Chappy met (or “discovered”) Jack on a “Plastic
Fantastic” tour of the East Coast during the summer of
1969.
Soon afterwards, Jack, Chappy, and a couple friends drove out
West cross country to Newport Beach and the Chapman family
residence in Costa Mesa.
Owl said that the first time he saw Jack was when he (Owl) found
this stranger sleeping in his bed. The Chapmans urged JR to go to
Hawaii and glass surfboards. Since he had lived on Oahu as a child
when his father was stationed there in the Navy ten years before,
Jack was game, it was a coming home of sorts. JR started glassing
in his own shop in Haleiwa, next door to the original “Country
Surfboards” shop. By way of introduction from the Chapman Bros,
Jack was introduced to Brewer. The rest is history.
So began a period of close, fruitful collaboration, innovation,
and refinement that spans more than half a century.
It’s well established that a true Brewer must be glassed by JR.
He’s The Master. And JR is as much a part of what a Brewer
board is as the fin, glass, and color.
“Jack,” said Brewer, “Well, Jack’s the best glasser
all around and he has, without a doubt, been intrinsically involved
in the development of the fin and foil” of surfboards since the
early ‘70s.
The Brewer/JR forte was and remains the balsa gun, something
which their mutual friend and mentor Mike Diffendefer had a great
deal to with, as well.
The “ultimate surfboard,” in the words of all three (RB,
JR, & Diff), is, without question, a balsa. Not just exquisitely
beautiful, light, and strong (they don’t break); but also, the most
functional and responsive, especially in big surf.
“On a big wave,” Brewer observed, “balsa is definitely
faster down the face.”
And nobody has more balsa Brewers than JR — working closely
along with master woodworker Eric “Bones” Fogerson (who
chambers and assembles the blanks);⁸ and Brewer’s shaping protegés,
Jim “Hell Yeah” Yarborough and Lyle Carlson, keep the balsa
tradition alive.
The new generation of Brewer Team riders were like astronauts,
those with the proverbial “Right Stuff,” who regularly
paddled out into maxing second and third reef Sunset, giant Outside
Pipeline (cf. “Huge Monday,” January 17, 1972), and, of
course, giant to closed-out Waimea Bay.
Owl and Sam — under the tutelage of Hawaiian Kahuna Tiger
Espere — simply
charged! Blowin’ Soul like no one else before or
since.
In my humble estimation, this period marked the
high-water mark of soul surfing and pure big-wave charging in the
history of surfing. These guys had the best boards. They didn’t
wear cords and were totally self-reliant, prepared to swim in
through the open ocean if they lost a board.
They were in Olympic physical condition: “surf muscle.”
And there were virtually no crowds (or kooks). These “Cosmic
Children” surfed for nothing but the pure love and stoke of it
all. This was the Golden Era.
Yet life itself also got in the way, sometimes tragically. RB
got in a terrible car crash with his daughter Lani and infant son
Keoki (due to a mechanical malfunction in the steering column) that
left his son dead and broke Brewer’s leg.
He and his wife, Anne, were devastated, heartbroken. And Brewer
was seriously injured. Recovering from the fracture of his femur in
the hospital, he got strung out on pain medication, which led
subsequently to his introduction to heroin.
He wasn’t the only one. Drugs were taking a toll on an entire
generation of surfers. Both Chappy and Hakman also got addicted to
the poppy; and each and all of their lives were forever altered —
Chappy’s so much so that left Hawaii altogether. It was a matter of
survival: life or death.
As for RB, he lost his Mojo for a while and fell into a deep
malaise of creative dormancy.
“I became the Hunchback of Notre Dame,” he recalled
sadly. That “I was too laid back” sounds like an
understatement. These were the “sedated years” (late
1970s-early ‘80s) in Brewer’s own estimation.
It took a return to the “Garden Isle” of Kauai, yoga,
windsurfing, and meditation to find himself again, which, God Bless
Us ALL, RB did. Brewer would live most of the rest of his life on
the North Shore of Kauai, in Hanalei, where he considers it to be
“the most beautiful place to live in the world . . . . I
really feel creative and free when I am here, more peaceful
than I do on Oahu.”
It was around this time of rejuvenation that surfboard design
took another quantum leap forward with the advent of the
“Thruster” (three-finned surfboard), which was credited to
an innovation by Australian champion pro surfer Simon Anderson;
although, in fact, Brewer and his “test pilots” (notably Owl
and Reno) had been experimenting with the 3-fin design since the
late ‘60s.
No matter. Brewer was not one to look back, gripe, or complain;
rather he looked ahead at what was on this new horizon and got busy
developing the next phase of the modern surfboard.
Working closely with surfers like David Barr and shapers Pat
Rawson and Gary Linden, Brewer concentrated on improving a thruster
specifically designed for the most demanding wave in the world:
Paumalu—Sunset Beach.
Word spread fast. Soon, hot shots like lifeguard and
Sunset-Waimea specialist Darrick Doerner were riding three-finned
spears that were, generally speaking, shorter, narrower, thinner,
and had more rocker (than old-school single fins) on the best,
biggest set waves.
At the same time, Brewer himself was windsurfing more than
surfing — along with Owl and many others — and he started shaping
and refining the cutting edge of/for windsurfers, which, in turn,
led to insights (gained from the high speed, aerials, and power
turns of windsurfing) that translated into more precise innovation
and refinement of the standard single-fin big wave gun. Brewer was
firing on all cylinders again.
The two most important surfers — the “Top Guns” — in such
regard were Owl and Roger Erickson. “Big Rog,” sometimes
referred to with admiration as “Tarzan” (due to his wild
strength and appearance), was a Vietnam Vet, a former Marine that
served with valor at Khe Sanh during the brutal Tet Offensive of
1968.
Originally from Marina Del Ray in the South Bay, the son of a
Naval officer who later became a surfer and lifeguard (taught Buzzy
Trent how to swim!), Roger was and remains an exception to an
otherwise exceptional crew of big-wave riders of the era, which
notably included stalwarts like Bill Sickler and Charlie Walker
(the latter whom lived in a treehouse and worked alongside JR in
the glass shop as a sander — the “best sander ever,”
according to World Champion Mark Richards).
Rog was the guy who turned and paddled for the “Big Black
One” nobody else wanted anything to do with. Fearless.
Courageous. The toughest, most respected surfer in big water.
Owl and Roger caught and rode the sets and, in turn, gave Brewer
the direct feedback that led to the resurgence of the Full
Hanapepe Gun: 10’6” – 12’ single fin pintails. The “Hanapepe
Gun” refers to a sleepy little hamlet on the south-west corner
of Kauaiwhere RB (along with Brewer Underground) remodeled big wave
surfboard design in ways — reminiscent of the ultralight,
high-performance 10’4” “Bumble Bee Model” shaped for Jackie
Eberly in 1966 — that became the Gold Standard when it came to
truly giant surf, whether at maxing deep-water breaks like Waimea
Bay, Second-Third Reef Sunset, the Outer Reefs (“Phantoms”
and beyond), and the long, hollow walls of Hanalei Bay.
These boards are radical and are designed for the most extreme,
deadly, and otherwise awesome conditions, from 12’-25’. Such
“Top Gun” boards are designed to paddle, catch, and
ride the most glorious waves in the ocean.
While working on a 12’ blank with Brewer and Joe Quigg back in
the early 1960s, Buzzy Trent stated: “You don’t hunt
elephants [i.e., big waves] with a B.B. gun or a
pistol.”
One needs a proper “Elephant Gun.”
And a look around the lineup at Waimea Bay or Sunset Beach on
any given swell reveals that most of the guys getting set waves are
riding a board shaped by either Brewer or Owl — and, more recently,
Lyle Carlson. But anyone (including Brewer or Owl) will tell you
that, when it comes to full guns, Owl makes the “best
Brewers.”
Owl has said to me more than once, as he mowed foam on one of
the 11’-12’ blanks from which these guns are milled: “Kid, this
board is going to save your life.” Fuck N’ Right! Amen to
THAT!
Like no one else, Owl has diligently carried on this tradition
with steadfast pride for decades. Despite the occasional chagrin of
a vocal minority (cf. Ken Bradshaw), Chapman’s stubborn commitment
to what works in waves of serious consequence has been
vindicated by a renaissance in big-wave paddle surfing that’s
occurring right now — from Peahi (“Jaws”) to Mavericks, and
Nazarre — where big, thick, low-entry-rockered guns rule the
lineup.
Contemporary guns shaped by Johnny Pyzel for John-John and
Nathan Florence, or Chris Christenson for Ian Walsh reflect the
outlines, rails, volume, foils, and fins of Brewer templates milled
and perfected by RB and Owl over the course of the past 45
years.
Around 1993-4, Doerner and his aquanaught comrades Laird
Hamilton (Bill Hamilton’s burly stepson) and Buzzy Kerbox (another
pro surfer from the 1970s Brewer stable), decided to start
“towing” into big waves on the outer reefs using, at first,
a boat, and later, a jetski to assist in catching waves that had
previously been either too big or too remote (or too dangerous por
too windy, or just plain too hard) to catch under paddle power
alone.
They soon realized that they didn’t need big “full guns”
to ride these waves (as the power-motor assist made catching waves
easy — perhaps too easy); and what they needed was something
altogether new and different to explore the outer limits of what
had until that moment been called “The Unridden Realm”
(quoting Mark Foo).
Brewer once again got busy designing and shaping what would
change the frontier of big wave riding by making “tow
boards” that looked more like water-skis than surfboards. Short
(7’ and shorter — some are a mere 5’ in length) with multiple fins
(3 or 4 generally), extreme concave bottom contours, and
surprisingly heavy (25+ lbs), including foot straps, so as to
handle the speed and chop of giant waves.
They were able to draw on the insights and lessons learned, in
no small part, from their collective windsurfing experience (Laird
and Buzzy were also world class windsurfers — so, too, Darrick and
Owl) and incorporate fin, foils, and straps into the new tow
boards.
Once Laird, Darrick, and the “strapped crew” went to Maui
with their Brewer tow boards, a new era had begun and yet another
line in the sand had been drawn, with Brewer and his riders on one
side and everyone else on the other, trying to wrap their minds
around and then catch up with what was happening.
The stories go on and on . . . Stories of how, over the course
of six decades, Brewer helped and mentored generation after
generation of young men in a perennial quest to make the ultimate
surfboard and ride the best waves. There are simply too many
stories to tell, at least here and now.
What more can one say about the man Owl rightly calls — with
profound reverence — “The Einstein of Surfing”? If a genius
is an exception to the exception, someone who is able to see,
understand, and communicate things in ways no one else can, but
having seen the light, translates that vision into something the
rest of us can also grasp, well, then, Dick Brewer is most
certainly a genius. His creative imagination, skill, ambition, and
perseverance enlightened us all, for RB transformed what a
surfboard (and therefore surfing) could be into something that all
surfers everywhere — from that nondescript beach-break anywhere to
the most glorious peak on the Outer Reefs of the Hawaiian Islands —
could ride to glory in the realization of one’s wildest dreams.
We can only be grateful that Brewer shared his vision — his
genius — with humankind (or at least all surfers) in ways that
enhanced and improved everything about surfing.
There’s no one else in the history of surfing, perhaps with the
exception of “The Duke” (The Father of Modern Surfing and
World Ambassador of Aloha) of which that can be said. Mahalo Nui
Loa, Mr. Brewer! Aloha O’e!
One day the Duke came to visit my shaping room. He told me
that in the olddays, people who designed surfboards
were considered Kahuna — which meansHoly Man in the
Hawaiian cultural tradition. He said: “Bless you, my
son.”
When he said that, I felt goose bumps all over me. I’ve
always tried to rememberthat and not let my ego get
in the way of dealing with my fellow man. I havealways tried to help young men coming into the sport. I’ve
done that ever since the beginning. Sometimes, I
feel like a rung on surfing’s ladder, but it’s helpedme progress all the way through surfing. — Dick
Brewer
New series featuring junior level
competitive professional surfing promises to save streaming giant
Netflix from transphobia-induced economic crash!
By Chas Smith
Strange days.
Only those currently living under rocks will be
unaware that streaming entertainment giant Netflix has stumbled
upon extra hard times. Subscription numbers are down, share prices
along with them and critics are coming hard, claiming that the fall
is likely karmic due the Hollywood-based company’s insistence on
broadcasting anti-trans comedy specials.
Oh, I thought Dave Chappelle’s The Closer approached art and
didn’t watch Ricky Gervais’ SuperNature though generally chuckle
heartily at the British man’s not-holds-barred takes but I am not
“the market” when it comes to such things. Don’t have a finely
tuned sense of rage and am likely dumb.
Appropriate then, I suppose, that one thing I do not like,
low-level competitive professional surfing, is being hailed as the
potential savior of Netflix.
Currently number two in Germany, the series, as described by
The Sydney Morning
Herald, “focuses on a group of attractive, athletic
teenagers who are passionately dedicated to a competitive
discipline that requires intense physical and mental
commitment.”
I have watched a bit, over my young daughter’s shoulder, and
that low-level competitive professional surfing does take up a huge
portion of the storyline. Heats, beach announcers, tense moments
with bogged turns and close-out barrels for the win with meager
beach crowds fist pumping over the hooter.
It is… as fine as watching 1000-level Brazilian QS events, I
think, if those were ever to be streamed and I wonder if our World
Surf League is pondering this gold mine or too busy trying to
figure out how to put the upcoming El Salvador contest on many
holds?
Remember when the WSL was going to make its mint from media?
Strange days.
Jessi Miley-Dyer.
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