Brain-Washing

I came in from the surf today, put my board on the railing and turned on the old shower at Narrabeen to wash the salt off. Maybe I'd had too much sun, or not enough food, or I was just going crazy from working in The Cupboard all week, but as I stood under the shower I thought of all the amazing characters that have stood under this same spurt of water over the years.

I'm not entirely sure how old the shower is, but I think it's early '70's. As I stood there lost in my liquid meditation, I remembered a picture in an old surfing magazine of Tony Hardwick, in about 1974, standing in this same post surf position, rinsing the salt off. The article was about Wicka and what was happening in his life, changing from "the mouth" of Northy to a responsible father and business owner. I remember seeing it in his scrap book when Dan (his son) and I were grommets. And here I was standing under this same shower, doing the same post surf ritual: board on the railing, tap on, watch surf, rinse the salt off, think about the waves just ridden. I've been doing it for as long as I can remember, it feels good, but it was only today that the sense of history hit me. Everyone from Midget Farrelly to Kelly Slater has stood in this exact position, rinsing the salt and mentally surfing the next set coming through. Pretty cool.

Just like the subway in NYC, the beach shower is also the great leveler of class and ego. It doesn't matter if you're the world champ or a sunburnt grommet, we all still stand next to the same clump of crappy concrete after a surf and wait for that spurt of fresh water to hit our salty faces.

Benzing

I've been watching and reading a lot of old & new surf material of late. It got me thinking about when I was a grommet surfing with Dad at Northy. Dad worked shift work to accommodate his surfing lifestyle and before I started school I pretty much shadowed him all day. This enabled me to see North Narrabeen circa 1982 with all it's character & charm. There are a couple of events that I remember clearly and that I think define the era ( for me anyway).

I was checking the surf with Dad at the lower carpark at Northy ( now it's shut to traffic), and Nat Young was parked in his old 1960's Mercedes Benz Sedan, pretty sure it was powder blue. I don't think Nat had been surfing, he was just hanging out. I stood around as Nat & Dad chewed the fat, and it turns out Nat had bought a light aircraft, learned how to fly it, crashed it, and was back in town checking the surf. Dad, who was also a pilot, was kind of amazed at the brash confidence of Nat, "Yeah, bought a plane, crashed it, didn't get too injured though, You been for a surf Rick?"

Another day, in the same carpark, doing the same thing, the surf had been really good and tensions were a little high due to some kooks crowding the lineup. Local tube riding legend "Blackie" who was known for his "layback" tuberiding ( laying up against the wave while tuberiding) had just come in from a session and he had had enough, right in front of us he started yelling and smashing his beautiful thruster on the copper log fence. He was still in his wetsuit, and he just smashed and shredded his board until it was a heap of fibre glass and foam. I remember Dad and I were a bit bummed because we were looking for a new board for me and Blackies would have been ideal.....

......I'm not sure that surfing or the Northern Beaches allows characters with that sort of style, arrogance, or animal attitude to exist anymore, and I'm a bit bummed about it..