Gallery
1 comment

1983 Cowaramup Bay Shark Story by Tom Hoye

Preface to Tom Hoye Shark Story by Chris Warrener.

In 2012 Tom and I sat together at his place in Margaret River to do some interviews for the purposes of compiling “Hoye Stories”, which is the title to a ‘book’, I have not completed.

Over a 2-year period we had a number of ‘sit-downs’ to record his musings on matters related to surfing, shaping and Tom’s general history.

There are so many stories, some tragic, some enlightening, and many funny stories of his exploits, fun times, and people he has encountered during his journeys on planet Earth, and always well told by Tom!

The following ‘story’ is an account of an experience Tom related involving a very big white pointer shark in Cowaramup Bay, which when you think about it makes your skin crawl!

Thanks Tom, enjoy

Chris

Photo: 2008 Chris Warrener and Tom Hoye enjoying an ale at Settlers Tavern in Margaret River. Chris Warrener pic.

1983 Cowaramup Bay Shark Story by Tom Hoye

Back in the summer of ‘83 we had this long flat spell when I was living in the Bay (Cowaramup), and working in my shop ‘PE Surfboards’ in Margaret River.

I was coming home after work each day about 4:30, 5:00 and launching my sailboard on this south-easter, grovelling out through the Bay, then sailing between North Pt and South Pt on the outside, not much wind, it was really hot.

So on the 3rd day coming down the hill I looked at the Bay and thought ‘ah there’s not enough wind today’, then I looked at it a while, and it looked similar to yesterday so I rigged up my big sail and launched.

Then about half way out I thought “I should just turn around there’s no wind out here today and I’m just barely moving”, then this gust of wind came along and picked me up and I thought it’s going to be like yesterday and the other days, so I charged on out to where I was just outside the rocks at South Point.

And then it just went ‘boof’ – no wind, so there I was trying to sail down wind, mast forward, grovelling.

As I looked down toward Left Handers, I noticed the wind had gone offshore and light, and I went “oh no I’m gunna be in here till night trying to get back into the Bay because you have to tack and I’d be falling off because of the light wind.”

Photo: 1986 Tom Hoye carrying his windsurfer to the waves at Surfers Point, Margaret River. Tom Hoye pic.

I thought I would be swimming the rig back in, and I was just concentrating on trying to find a place to jibe with the rhythm of the chop, I had my sunglasses on so no glare, and I went across this sand patch, and I thought: “shit I thought it was about a 100’ deep out here”, and I thought “no it must be the sunglasses”, it was really still, with no swell.

I went through this slow motion jibe, wobbly and weird, and something just made me look over to the left, and I saw the silhouette of a shark, a perfect silhouette just coming round really fast up underneath me horizontally and it looked to be about 6’ long.

Then my mind just screamed HUGE, and then it went down the other side, and I looked at it and I thought it was only 6’ but it looked bigger because it was so close to me.

So I made the decision to just go straight in and try to crash land somewhere along the back of North Point.

I didn’t want to jibe with that ‘guy’ swimming around.

I was then pretty much convinced he was gone so I’m just chugging along and then I looked down, and there he is right underneath me going exactly my speed just going with me, “oh fuck”, he was following me, then he arced around and went behind me.

I could only see 180º ahead because if I tried to look behind I would wobble and fall over, so I started looking for him just below me, and I was freaking out. Then he came underneath me again, I see his nose first and as he comes into full view I realize, “oh shit he’s bigger than 6’ he’s 8’, he went along with me for a while and then circled around behind as before.

He continued to do the same thing, just swimming along with me but getting closer, and then on the 4th pass when he was underneath me I thought “holy fuck he’s longer than my board he’s a monster”, and when he started to arc around this gust of wind came across the water so I thought if I can hook into this gust of wind and squirt away from him, he’ll leave me alone.

I hooked into the wind, the sail filled up and I got into my harness, and then the wind just let me down and I got stuck in the harness, I rounded up into the wind while he was swimming around me I looked right into his eye, and there was a “full eye to eye hello, I see you, you see me”, just total recognition.

So now I’m down to my waist in the water, my sailboard’s pointing straight up, and I went right to the back of the boom and the sail fell over and I held it up from the back till the sail brought the nose around.  That’s like superhuman you can’t do that, not in a light wind, it just falls over but I just strained “ayarrh”, and grabbed it and got myself going again.

So I thought “fuck he’ll hit me for sure the next time”. I was really freaking out thinking to myself the next day’s headline – “surfboard shaper eaten by shark!”

By this time I was coming to the outer shelf at North Point. I knew exactly where he was coming from and I was looking at the spot where he had appeared before, then I saw this fish swimmer glimmer about 2” around, just a little flicker in the water. It went from a flicker to a shark’s head wider than the foot strap area in a “click” just like that, and he was coming up so fucking fast. Not coming up jaws-like, but coming up on that same plane that he was doing before but really fast.

It was just getting bigger as it came up thru the water and I shut my eyes.

I went all woozy and I don’t know how I didn’t fall off. I thought I was going to pass out, expecting the BANG, then nothing happened and I opened my eyes.

It looked like there was no water between us. I felt like I was on his fucking back, I think he was touching the bottom of my board with his dorsal fin, he was really close.

My sailboard was an 8’ 6”x 21½’’. The tip of his nose was a good solid 3’ in front of my board and there was 18” of shark exposed down either side of the board’s rails. His pectoral fins came out right where my straps were, his tail was out behind me.

Then, he slowly moved out from underneath me in the same pattern as he had been doing disappearing out the back.

By then I was over the reef and I landed on the rocks you launch from. I rammed the nose of my board into the back of North Pt, stepped out of the straps, walked up the board and onto the point dragging everything by the mast across the rocks crunch, crunch, crunch. I turned around to see where he was but I couldn’t see him.

Then I felt a little bit weak so I sat down on the rocks because the whole ordeal took about a half hour. I started shaking, and laughing uncontrollably as soon as I sat down.

I couldn’t stop myself shaking with this high-pitched hysterical giggle for what felt like about 10minutes. Then I sort of calmed down and sat there a while looking at the ocean, then put my gear on my head and started walking back to the car which was at the bottom of South Point.

About half way round the Bay I thought to myself I’m not even going to tell anyone about this because there was no one else there and it’s just too bizarre, no one would’ve believed me so I put my gear on my car and pulled up in front of the Gracetown Store to get some beers on the way home.

Remember now that 10 mins before this I’d told myself I wasn’t going to tell anyone about it.

As I opened the car door I started shouting the story out at the closed screen door of the store – there wasn’t even anybody in view.  I walked into the store about a quarter the way thru shouting out the story. There were 3 people standing in the store. They had this look of ‘what the fuck is this guy on about?’

The next morning when I got to my shop there was a fishing boat parked in the driveway, the guy wanted a boat repair. I asked what kind of fish he was catching and he said: “I’m a shark fisherman”.

I told him about seeing a shark yesterday afternoon, and he said “ah well if you saw one that big he’ll take one of our baits”.

About a week and a half later there was a picture of a big shark caught off Cape Mentelle in the paper. I instantly recognised him, I said to myself “oh that’s the guy who came by, I felt sorry for him.”

The shark measured over 4.5metres long and weighed one tonne.

Cheers

Tom Hoye.

—————————

Gallery
4 comments

1960-70s Surfing Coolites at City Beach by Craig Blume

Craig Blume – Caveat before I start – I apologise now for missing out a lot of guys and events that occurred during the mid 60’s and early 70’s, but hopefully someone can fill in the holes so we get a great capture of the time.

These are my recollection of the early coolite days at City Beach from the mid 60’s-70’s.

What a fantastic time, free flowing spirits, evolution in the air with surfboard materials and sizes changing from wooden/balsa 10 foot plus down to Craig Bettenay’s 4’8” fibreglass, as mentioned in other articles. I think Craig also had a smaller green board made to trial which he referred to as the “Derringer”.

My first memory of surfing City Beach is as a 10-11yo in 1964/5. A mate and I would hitchhike from Wembley to City Beach along Cambridge Street /Oceanic Drive, hired inflatable rubber mats either off the beach or from the small blue kiosk in front of the old orange surf club, surf all day or until the nipple and gut rash became too painful.

In 1966 we moved to south City Beach, near Jeff “RE” Marshall’s place in Branksome Gardens. From that point on for the next few years I spent most of my time learning to surf a coolite near the groyne. I remember being in awe of the older guys surfing on fibreglass boards weaving thru kids on coolites and cheering the Surf Life Saving Club guys when they became unstuck on their wooden skis.

In the 60’s the City Beach coolite riders were a small close knit bunch of guys, extremely competitive and enthusiastic, with most attending City Beach Primary and High School, who were encouraged and mentored, at some stage, by equally enthusiastic members of the City Beach Surf Riders Club Inc. (CBSR).

Photo: Mid 70s Craig’s dog “Spike Milligan” guarding his coolites & foamies. Photo courtesy of Craig Blume.

1960s Coolites & Foamies guarded by Spike Milligan - Craig Blume

Surfing Coolites at City Beach Groyne

Most mornings around dawn, when there was surf, there would be a few CBSR crew on fibreglass boards and coolite riders, like the Howe brothers – Alan (Fagan) & Craig (Thurston), Bettenay brothers -Greg (Boris), Stewart (Big Silk) & Craig (Little Silk), Ross (Log) Lawrence, Ross (Duck) Craigie, Chris (Bum Dip) Warrener, David (Errol) Wishart), Grant (Shorty) Arnold, myself and other local school kids surfing off the groyne. (I believe ‘Pixie’ Moss gave some of these coolite riders the endearing title of – “Tiny Tits Little Shits” – that’s another story.)

Typically, the sequence of events was – the fibreglass board riders would tell us coolite riders to stop hassling and f!!k off and then, around 6am, the early morning “tubby club” would slowly arrived for their splash, chat and swim near the groyne and be given a whole bunch of profanities and encouraged to move away from the groyne to avoid being hit and giving all the surfers the shits. The same happened after school at 6pm when the Fremantle Doctor (sea breeze) was in.

I remember one time when there had been no surf for a while, so the north City Beach boys made a sacrifice to “Huey” to bring waves by burning a coolite. The surf eventually did come up, but unfortunately Stewart Bettenay burnt his foot badly during the sacrifice ritual on the molten coolite polystyrene foam and consequently was sidelined and out of action for some time.

Photos: 1969 surfboard riding City Beach groyne. Photos courtesy of Ric Chan.
(Left) unidentified. (Right) Stewart Bettenay.

1969 surfing City Beach groyne unknown & Stew Bettenay collage_photocat

Coolites, Skegs and Swimmers

The interaction between coolite riders and swimmers to my recollection was initially sort-of tolerated because they didn’t have skegs, only two small rounded foam 1” keels running along the bottom near the rail, which didn’t hurt if you got run over, although it made them difficult to control and ride standing-up. I am not saying there wasn’t the occasional conflict when a swimmer got hit by a coolite.

Initially, if my memory serves me well, there were two types of polystyrene foam surfboards – Hardies coolites, which were available to general public and another – a foamy for Surf Life Saving Clubs use.

Before either of these foam boards could be surfed without serious chaffing they needed to be painted with exterior water based paint, many a coolite was melted and wrecked by using oil based paint.

Next, installing skegs in coolites – fantastic innovation, it improved their performance and manoeuvrability, usually started with cutting up wooden plank from a fruit crate and shaping it to mimic the latest skeg designs being used in new fibreglass boards.

Then precisely measuring and cutting a slot in the coolite to just fit the skeg and pouring melted bees wax around the skeg to hold it in.

Installing skegs allowed surfers to experiment and pull-off more radical manoeuvres, tube riding, radical turns, re-entrys etc, and cultivated an environment of ultra-competitive aggressive surfing styles like Howie’s and the “Silks”, it also favoured the brave in front of the rocks, especially goofy foots like Howie, and defined pecking orders – rewarded the committed and wrecked the hesitant.

Photo: 1975 Craig Blume & Craig Howe with fibreglass surfboards at City Beach. Photo courtesy of Craig Blume.

1975 City Beach Craig Blume & Craig Howe - Craig Blume pic

“RE’s Law”

I remember hassling and guys dropping in on waves off the end of the groyne intensified to the extent surfers and surfboards were getting wrecked on the rocks. I don’t exactly remember when RE’s Law was proclaimed, but it established a surfers etiquette between the locals – 1st out had priority, 2nd out had the next wave, and so. Once you caught a wave you went to the back of the queue. This law, like all laws, worked if everyone knew it and abided by it, which was most of the time, but fell apart quickly resulting in an exchange of abuse and unnecessary tension in the surf and on shore. When it worked, there was great vibe in the water, guys would be cheering each other on, pushing each other to go harder and bragging how far they surfed down into the bay.

Surfboards and swimmers don’t mix

With the coolite’s increased manoeuvrability due to skegs, it allowed surfers to get closer and further around the nose of the groyne and inside most swimmers which escalated the conflict with swimmers to a whole new level. Because – on the one hand if the fin hit an obstacle, the groyne or swimmer, it would usually rip the skeg and surrounding foam out, resulting in time out the water for repairs. On the other hand if the obstacle was a person, they would be pissed off.

In these early days if you couldn’t get back on your coolite quickly and get away from the swimmer there would a confrontation usually on the shore, due to no leg ropes.

I remember one time my board supposedly hit this fat tubby club swimming obstacle. When I went to pick up my board this guy was going to punch my lights out, however Keith “Woolly” Hawkins (a Leederville surfer who went on to glass Energy Surfboards with Ken McKenzie at Margaret River) had other ideas and came to my rescue and reversed the situation. Thanks Woolly!

Beach Inspectors

The increase in surfboard rider/ swimmer confrontations saw the City of Perth introduce a “swimming area” and restrict surfing times near the groyne to before 6am and after 6pm and beach inspectors to manage it. The first beach inspector I encountered was Warren “Wonk” Somerford (dec’d), a guy not to be messed with, took his role very seriously, no surfboards in the swimming area near the groyne between 6am-6pm, one warning to get out, next time your board was confiscated for a time he thought was appropriate.

Another beach inspector was John “Harbo” Harbison (dec’d) who also took his role seriously, but practically, he strictly enforced no surfboards in the swimming area near the groyne between 6am-6pm, if there were swimmers in the area, otherwise you could surf.

Photo: 1973-74 Beach Inspector John ‘Harbo’ Harbison herding a topless girl off the beach. Photo courtesy of WA Newspapers.

1973-74 CB Beach Inspector John Harbo herding topless girl off beach

Restricted Surfing Times

Restricting surfing times meant you had to be in the water before dawn to beat the “tubby club” and Beach Inspector. This resulted in guys sleeping on beach near the groyne, in the surf lifesaving club’s boat shed (on the beach side of “West Coast Highway” which ran passed the City Beach and Floreat groynes to Scarborough), and camping under a clump of big melaleuca trees behind the City Beach Tearooms, colloquially referred as ‘The Pad’, to get into the surf early.

Many great times and yarns were had around these campfires. There would be someone with a story about their surfing ventures or romantic encounter etc. Whilst everyone was engrossed in these stories or asleep they would on some occasions be sprayed with the contents of canned food and soft drinking which were put in the campfire, as joke, without being pierced and explode.

Fishing off the groyne

Fishing off the groyne was another area of conflict for surfers. Sunrise and dusk are the normally the best time to fish and coincidently before 6am and after 6pm were the times we were permitted to surf coolites near the groyne. Most fishermen cast their fishing lines away from the surfers around the end of the groyne for obvious reasons. On some occasions, however, there would be a passionate European fisherman who would cast their hook, line and sinker over the guys in the water, which would result in a barrage of abuse and profanities coming from the surfers with the occasional assertive person snapping the line off as it came near them. Inevitably someone would get hooked up and on one occasion I was the unfortunate one, getting hooked in the thigh resulting with fisherman losing his gear to the surf, once I managed to snip the hook-eye off, push the barb through the skin with a lot of swearing while pulling the hook out.

Mentors – CBSR Club Members

Most of the CBSR members were incredible enthusiastic dedicated surfers who won many Interclub, State, National and International surfing competitions. Others helped the club function and enjoyed the camaraderie.

The world was our oyster with advice from members like:-

Ron (Pixie) Moss, talented surfer with many attributes – enjoyed pushing coolite riders off their boards in front of the groyne, teaching groms how to fill in time while waiting for the surf to happen by instructing us how to play poker, pontoon, slippery sam etc for money in the City of Perth SLSC boat shed and “Pad”, etc.

Timon (Tiny) McKay – Great story teller, instrumental in transporting the “Tiny Tits Little Shits” to surf comps and surf breaks, putting up with Howie and me dropping around to his and Browneye’s house in Hasting St, Scarborough unexpectedly etc

Brian (Browneyes) Mawby-Brown – for providing advice on cars, driving, surf spots and put up with us visiting unexpectedly, etc

Bruce (Lumpy) King, Kevin (DO) O’Dwyer, Phil Henderson etc – dropping around Tiny’s and Browneye’s house with stories about surfing trips, cars, girls and the night before, etc.

In finishing I would like to especially thank Jim King for having the drive and foresight to gather and publish stories of surfing history in WA.

** see related material**

1960-70s Coolite surfboards – Wednesday 2 March 2106

1970-80s Foamie surfboards – Saturday 5 March 2016

Gallery
0 comment

1950s-70s Jim Keenan’s – Surfing Memoirs (Part 2 Guam, Red Bluff & SW Anecdotes).

Jim Keenan’s surfing memoirs continue on from Part 1 Metro, South West & East Coast.

These are Jim’s surfing memoirs Part 2 Guam, Red Bluff & SW Anecdotes.

Mid 66 I took off with my bride Pat for Guam and another phase of surfing. I was treated like a king on Guam by the surfing fraternity whom were mainly Californians. Great times. Returned to Perth in 70 and enjoyed another spell down south before heading east again and then eventually Carnarvon.

Photo: 1966 Guam. Jim Keenan featured surfing on cover of Guam Book. Photo courtesy of Jim Keenan.

1966 J Keenan cover Guam Book J Keenan pic PNG image

Carnarvon was not on the surfing map until about mid 70’s. My first visit to Red Bluff revealed a break devoid of surfers.

The next image was taken very early in 70’s when I was on a safari. The reason I went there is because Ralph McNab whom in his early days was a shearer/wool classer, used to speak of the big swells that hit the Gascoyne coast in winter. Ralph used to do contract work on the coastal stations. Of course no one believed him and that included myself until visiting the area on the safari. Many breaks are now surfed along the Gascoyne Coast north of Carnarvon, especially during the winter months.

Photo: Early 1970s Red Bluff near Carnarvon. Photo courtesy of Jim Keenan.

1970s Red Bluff Carnarvon Jim Keenan IMG_0001

Despite enjoying the opportunity to surf at a multitude of venues throughout my life, my fondest memories are of Yallingup. The sheer beauty of the area is implanted in my mind and I dare say for all those who followed the pioneers of the fifties. The exhilaration one feels when driving down the hill and being confronted with a roaring swell is something else and only a surfer can attest to that phenomenon.

Second only to surfing “down south” was the wonderful comradeship that developed amongst the various groups. Sure, there was some rivalry but, it was all part of the act with the early group being tagged as the “Wheels” and those that followed “The Little Wheels”.

SW SURFING ANECDOTES.

Darts at Caves House Hotel

The front bar of the Caves House Hotel was always a fun place to be after a day out surfing. The locals mainly cow cockies considered us to be insane and at first were not very receptive to our rather outrageous behaviour to say the least. However, over time the mood changed to one of complete acceptance by all and sundry.

Of course in any group there are always those who take advantage of a situation. The locals loved to play darts and gamble on the side. Hustlers such as Harbo, Patto and Artie Shaw would “Throw Away until the locals sensed they were unbeatable. Out came the money and the boys cleaned up. To this day I cannot believe the locals could be so gullible unless, it was the cow shit on their boots.

Hammond’s Tea Rooms at Yalls

The Hammond family ran the Tea Rooms down near the coast and it was well sought out upon arrival by the “boys” who would invariably be half asleep, half pissed and hungry. They were a great family and in the main complied with our requests even though they were ready for the bed. Of course every group has a pick pocket amongst them and ours was rather partial to Old Gold chocolate. Wearing a Great Coat this individual whose name will not be mentioned but has the initials T.H. managed to procure enough chocolate to feed the multitude. T.H. has a lot to answer but, we sure enjoyed the snacks. Thanks.

Rabbit Hill

Rabbit hill was another source of fun. The northern extremity of Yallingup Beach has a very large sand hill overlooking a grassed hill. This grassed area was home to many rabbits at dusk and to their dismay I guess their last supper. The sand hill concealed many of the boys fitted out with various instruments of death in the form of rifles. Don Bancroft had a home-made shot gun which would have ended WW2 in a single shot. It sprayed shit everywhere except at the spot he aimed for. To this day I do not understand how Don was not a victim of his own gun.

After one evenings shoot out we returned to camp with our rabbit dinner and were confronted with a burning car. It was Laurie’s pride and joy and a dismal sight it was with the paint peeling off in all directions on his recently purchased Mayflower. We all thought it was hilarious except for Laurie who hiding his tears broke into a rage threatening to kill the culprit. Apparently, the younger group led by Gary Birch decided on a Tom Piper BRAISED STEAK AND ONION meal and placed the can in a fire to heat up. The only trouble they failed to puncture the lid and after some time in the fire bed the can blew up showering the camp with braised steak, onion, and many hot embers which in due course set fire to the grass and as a consequence Laurie’s pride and joy.

Diving near Canal Rocks

Another scene I remember with laughter was when we went diving down near Canal Rocks. Dave, Tony and I went diving while Bernie, Jungle and Moonshine were meant to pick us up at a certain hour as they wished to visit Caves House. Only trouble, they did not return until dusk leaving us to freeze waiting. Not to be outdone we managed to light a fire, spear a Buff Bream and await their return. Upon spotting their cars headlights we threw the fish heavily marinated with our bodily fluids onto the fire. Of course they were hungry after a session at the pub and the fish was devoured with great gusto. They loved it and knocked the lot down only to bring it up after we discussed the ingredients. Never late again.

Photo: 1958 Yallingup beach. L-R Dave Williams, Jim Keenan, Bernie Huddle, Artie Taylor, Tony Harbison, Bruce ‘Moonshine’ Hill, Kevin Merifield, Ray Evans & Graham Killen. Photographer unknown.
Note: This image was presented to Harbo on his 70th birthday.

1958 Yalls beach D Williams, J Keenan, B Huddle, A Taylor, T Harbison, B Hill, K Merifield, R Evans & G Killen - unknown photographer1 IMG

Methane gas problem

The dairy industry is quite often quoted as a contributor to the methane gas problem which now plagues the planet but, a major factor in the fifties was the surfing fraternity camping at Yallingup. The main blame was directly associated with the high consumption of tinned food namely Tom Piper Braised Steak and Onions for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Availability, I guess promoted this evil consumption and it was all brought about by John Hughes (Body Surfer) freely distributing damaged cans from the boot of his car. ‘JJ’ as he was known was a sales rep. for what I considered was dog food at its best. Still it did provide a source of fun and laughter during the blue flame trick. Mind you there were casualties and Rings of Fire were dominant. Johnny Cash you were second.

Transport Down South

Transport “Down South” was by various types of vehicles i.e. sedans, Ute and panel vans. However, one particular journey I remember was quite unique. A Fruit and Vegetable merchant Sunny Passaris (body surfer) from the Perth markets volunteered his large truck fitted out with a canopy and cane chairs. About ten of us equipped with our surfing gear embarked and took off with suitable refreshments namely an 18 gallon keg of beer. Obviously, it was a slow trip with many stops at the various pubs along the way. The patrons at the pubs were flabbergasted and thankfully no booze buses existed in those days. Fun trip but we suffered the next morning.

Old Juke Box

Music was appreciated by most of the group, with some favouring jazz over Elvis. I think this stemmed from Bernie Huddle and Don Bancroft’s love of Dixieland music. Personally, I enjoyed Jazz but, there was nothing wrong with the Beach Boys, Elvis and Roy Orbison. The old Juke box located in the Busselton Cafe belted out a great sound with a good selection of Elvis, Beach Boys and Roy Orbison to choose from. Not sure if the locals did though. Stiff shit.

IMBEDDED SURFING MEMORIES.

Big Yallingup

Apart from the Gallows incident with Puppy Dog, two other surfing days sit vividly in my mind. The first occurred on a giant winter swell at Yallingup. We all awoke to a massive swell that none of us had witnessed before, the main break extended out into the bay and presented a real challenge to anyone silly enough to tackle it. Not to outdone by nature Cocko and I entered the water on the double ski and managed to somehow make it beyond the break. We were well clear of the normal take off point, possibly by 200 metres as Caves House was in full view. Relieved to be clear of the white water it, now dawned on us that getting back to shore safely was a bigger challenge than getting out. We could see that the bay was alive with breaking swells and there for offered no escape route should we get done in the main break. Losing the ski would probably result in a drowning as massive amounts of water was returning to sea via the bay in giant rips. We did contemplate paddling north to Geographe Bay but, decided against and elected to “go for it “How we managed to hold onto a giant swell and massive white water was I guess our lucky day. It was a great relief to touch that beach again.

Margaret River

The second venture was at Margaret River main break over an Easter and probably 1964. The swell was awesome and each day of Easter was better than the previous. I enjoyed the company of Harbo and Murray Smith and the surf was as close to perfect as one can dream about. I still do. The crowd on the water was small, but the surf was big and challenging. Great fun.

Photo: 1964 Margaret River: L-R Murray Smith & Jim Keenan wave sharing. Photo courtesy of Jim Keenan.

1964 Marg River Murray Smith & Jim Keenan surfing - J Keenan pic1

Mouth Surfing

My board riding days came to a halt when I could no longer sit upon the board. This was due to hip degeneration and which later required replacement with a prosthesis. Surf Ski was an alternative and provided an avenue to continue wave riding but, no way matched the freedom of a board.

My ocean days continue with daily distance swimming and paddling a surf ski along the Perth Northern beaches. Love it.

Photo: 2015 Hillarys Marina. Grandad Jim with pacemaker inserted to keep him on the planet. Photo credit ‘Joshua Keenan Photography’.

2015 Hillarys Marina grandad Jim with pacemaker inserted to keep me on the planet.- JK pic

Of course “Mouth Surfing” takes place during our social lunches and there is no doubt “The older you get, the better you were.”

Photo: 2015 old boys ‘mouth surfing at Miami‘ at Cafe Falcon, Mandurah. L-R Jim Keenan, Tony Harbison, Dan Darragan (real name John Roberts, but not used), Laurie Burke, Bill Pratley, Ray Geary. Photo courtesy of Jim Keenan.

'mouth surfers at Miami' at Cafe Falcon, Mandurah L-R Jim Keenan, Tony Harbison, Dan Darragan (real name John Roberts), Laurie Burke, Bill Pratley, Ray Geary.

Gallery
0 comment

1950s-70s Jim Keenan’s – Surfing Memoirs (Part 1 Metro, South West & East Coast).

Jim Keenan started his surfing life with the City of Perth SLSC at City Beach in the mid-50s. He rode SLSC plywood boards and skis.

In 1956 he was exposed to a new phase of surfing at Interstate surf carnivals on the East Coast when Malibu surfboards were introduced by visiting American surfers.

This was a turning point for Jim and like a lot of other young lads with salt water in their veins, he left the SLSC and joined Kevin Merifield, Tony Harbison, Dave Williams, Brian Cole and other surf pioneers free surfing Down South.

In the late 50s, Jim travelled to the East Coast with other WA surfers searching for waves & fun. He continued to live in NSW during the early 60s, but returned regularly to WA and the surf Down South.

In mid-66 he headed to the Pacific Island of Guam and started another phase of surfing with a group of Californians. In 70 he returned to Perth and enjoyed another spell Down South before heading east again.

In the mid-70s he headed to Carnarvon in the NW. His first visit to the surf break at Red Bluff revealed a surf break devoid of surfers.

He is a well-travelled surfer and a colourful character.

These are Jim’s surfing memoirs (Part 1 Metro, South West & East Coast).
(Note: Excerpts from Jim’s surfing memoirs appeared in the Surfing Down South book published in 2014).

I was a resident of Subiaco and Jolimont for the early stages of my life which began June 1937. The above suburbs were working class in those days, unlike today where prices are sky high. However, it was a fun environment to grow up in those important formative years. Sport was high on my agenda and it was at the Wembley Athletic and Football club where I first made contact with other like-minded people.

Like many of the group we spent a lot of our spare time at City Beach learning like Kevin Merifield to surf off the groyne summer and winter. Body surfing was a great way to learn the fundamentals of wave choice and the technique of riding the wave to its limits. The introduction of Turnbull rubber flippers created a whole new ball game for the body surfer, allowing early pick up and manoeuvrability of the wave.

Some of my friends from those days included Dave Williams, Graeme Killen, John Budge, Tony Harbison and many others. Apart from John Budge we all ended up joining the City of Perth SLSC.

I guess from memory we were all aged about fourteen or fifteen when we joined the club. Borrowing various surfing apparatus led us into another facet of surfing e.g. Surf Board and Ski skills were learnt along with Surf Boat rowing. It was great fun and we all eventually purchased at great expense our craft of choice to either compete with or surf with. Dave a 16 foot Board, Graeme Killen and I on a Double Ski and Tony Harbison a Single Ski.

Photo: 1958 City Beach North Side. L-R Dave Williams on ‘toothpick’ surfboard with Jim Keenan & Cocko Killen on plywood double ski. Photo courtesy of Ray Geary.

1956 City Beach Dave Williams toothpick board and Jim Keenan & Cocko Killen on double ski - Ray Geary1

The club was a melting pot for many like-minded people and many a friendship developed in that arena. People like Bernie Huddle, Bill Pratley and Brian Cole to name a few.

Rottnest was our choice of escape before Yallingup was born. The Transit and Salmon Bay were great places to surf and develop skills. The Transit was a lot safer than Salmon Bay, but Salmon Bay was a great place to confront big waves. Very scaring also in those shark ridden waters.

Paddling to Rottnest was not without its moments as some times we ran into early sea breezes making the physical effort a dam side harder to say the least. Confronting ocean going liners in the fog was not much fun either, with Tony almost a victim.

Trigg Island also figured in those early days with March, April probably the best months for surfing.

Surfing on the Tooth Picks and Skis were still in vogue when Yallingup came on the surf horizon. The early guys to learn of Yallingup included Bernie Huddle, Bruce Hill, Ron Drage and Bill Pratley. From then on it was like a gold rush with any surfer keen enough heading south to the new frontier. I guess the year was 1954 but, not exactly 100%. As for Cocko and I our first venture down to Yallingup was in Cocks old man’s Ford Prefect with the double ski tied to the roof. The Yallingup coast was like a new world and the waves suited the double ski perfectly. It took some time to adjust to the moods of the Yallingup surf and along with the board riders (16 ft) we copped our fair share of wipe outs. There were days in winter when all of Caves House was visible from the take off point and taking off left one in fear of the outcome. We all became reasonable swimmers due to wipe outs and board recovery.

When the sea breeze arrived and the waves lost their shape, those who were mad enough re-entered with body boards and tackled the swell. It was rewarding enough but I well remember the waters under us darkening up with the schools of Salmon especially around April. I guess the Noah’s were there in numbers and it was only because of the salmon that we were left un-attacked. No wonder the beer tasted good after a day of action in the water.

In 1956 quite a few of us headed to Torquay Victoria for an international surf carnival held in conjunction with the Melbourne Olympics. It was there that we were exposed to a new phase of surfing, the team from California and Hawaii cut the waves up on their 9ft Malibu’s. Measuring tapes came out and hence the birth of the Mal in Australia. We attended another carnival in Manly NSW and again witnessed some great surfing by the visiting American’s. The Americans had been riding Mals in California since the mid-1940s.

Photo: 1956 Melbourne Luna Park. WA boys in WW2 flying suits. L-R unknown, Dave Williams, K Jones, Jim Keenan, R Howe & Graham Killen. Photo courtesy of Jim Keenan.

1956 Melb Luna Park WA boys flying suits unknown, Dave Williams, K Jones, Jim Keenan, R Howe & Graham Killen - J Keenan pic

The Mal arrival in Australia led to a massive decline in surf club membership due to the adoption of the board and free surfing by Australian surfers. West Australia rapidly followed suit and I along with many others quit the SLSC movement. For Cocko and me it was only one step before suspension anyway because we refused to quit paddling to Rottnest.

Yallingup came of age with the Mals and life changed drastically. No more patrol work freed up the weekends and the expression “Down South” was born. There were many surfing widows during that period with the boys preferring “Down South” to the Drive-ins and all that goes with it.

Photo: 1957 Yallingup campsite. L-R Des Gaines, Jim Keenan, unknown, Laurie Burke, Bernie Huddle & Arty Taylor. Photo courtesy of Jim Keenan.

1957 Yalls Des Gaines, Jim Keenan, unknown, Laurie Burke, Bernie Huddle & Arty Taylor - J Keenan pic1

The early boards although spot on were expensive and made of balsa imported from South America. My original board made by Gordon Woods cost 30 pounds, equivalent to about a month’s salary in those days.

Photo: 1959 Yallingup beach. Boys & their boards L-R Ray Nelmes, Brian Cole, Jim Keenan, Des Gaines, Laurie Burke, John Budge, Artie Taylor. Photo courtesy of Brian Cole.

1959 Yalls beach boys & boards Ray Nelmes, Brian Cole, Jim Keenan, Des Gaines, Laurie Burke, John Budge, Artie Taylor - Brian Cole pic

Most of my friends were aged from 17 to 21 years of age and were super keen on surfing, thus the regular trips “Down South”. Strong bonding took place over the years and remains to this day. The only difference being that “The older you get, the better you were”.

It’s a shame that a good photographic history of those early days is not readily available, but it’s simply because the only person armed with a camera was John Budge and its credentials were very limited. However, we did manage to gather a few shots out on the double ski on a classic day.

Photo: 1957 Yallingup Main Break. Graham ‘Cocko’ Killen & Jim Keenan on the double surf ski. Water photo by John Budge.

1957 Yalls Jim Keenan & Cocko Killen on ski- J Budge pic 001

As we aged, that is turned 17 to 18, driving to Yallingup became less dependent on the older guys. My choice was an FJ Holden like Bernie Huddle’s, the only difference, mine stayed on the road.

I can recollect driving up and down Caves Road and into the various surfing spots such as the Gallows, South Point etc checking out the breaks. We sure wasted a lot of time before making a decision and mainly to avoid the so called crowds. In those days, probably six surfers constituted a big crowd. Those numbers today would be heaven.

Photo: 1959 Yallingup Car Park. L-R Des Gaines, Ian Todman, Laurie Burke & Jim Keenan Photo courtesy of Bill Pratley.

My beautiful picture

In the fifties any surf film would have originated on the East Coast or California and Hawaii. I guess that’s why quite a few of the group embarked on the journey east with Bernie Huddle, Cocko and Brian Cole leading the charge in 58. Their reports induced others to follow including myself in 59.

My fellow travellers included Laurie Burke, Moose White and Ian Todman. Sydney to me was like an endless party with surfing thrown in. Accommodation was a problem in the early stages as the sequence of Party followed by Eviction was not broken until a more permanent abode at Woodstock in Curl Curl Parade South Curl Curl. Woodstock was a two storey house and I had the good fortune of a room with an ocean view. This home became a focal point for those that surfed the Northern Beaches of Sydney especially in winter. Many friendships developed between the locals and the West Aussies. Among the West Aussies to call Woodstock home were Les Gillies, Tony Burgess, Owen Oates, Ian Todman, Colin ‘Moose’ White, myself and many others passing through.

Photo: 1960 A mixture of surfers from northern beaches (Sydney) and WA at Manly Beach NSW. L-R Joe Larkin (surfboard & film maker), Chris ‘Batman’ Steinburg, Colin ‘Moose’ White, Brian Cole & Jim Keenan. Photo courtesy of Jim Keenan.

1960 Manly NSW L-R Joe Larkin (surfboard & film maker), Chris ‘Batman’ Steinburg, Colin ‘Moose’ White, Brian Cole & Jim Keenan. Photo Jim Keenan pic03

They were great days on the East Coast but, the South West ruled the waves.

March 1961. Returned to Yalls for a two month holiday with Puppy Dog Paton a talented surfer from Manly NSW. It was the summer that fires ripped the South West apart with many mill towns like Karridale wiped out. We were also nearly wiped out at the Gallows on a very big day. The bomboras were working for what seemed miles out to sea. We were stupid enough to try out the fourth break and it was there that we were threatened by the relentless swell. Puppy was only about 17 years of age and I was fearful of losing him in the surf. We chose our wave with respect and managed to make shore a little out of sorts. I understand the break we could observe out to sea is what is now called Cow Bombie.

Photo: 1961 Gallows outside break. L-R Jim Keenan & Puppy Dog from Manly NSW. Photo courtesy of Jim Keenan.

1961 Gallows outside break J Keenan & Puppydog on NSW Barry Bennet boards - J Keenan pic

I returned to the South West for the summer of 64 to surf Yalls and engage new breaks such as Margs and Guillotine.

Jim Keenan’s surfing memoirs continue with Part 2 Guam, Red Bluff & SW Anecdotes.

 

 

Gallery
0 comment

Surfside at Yallingup – Recollections

Many SW residents and visiting surfers enjoyed the hospitality at Surfside Tea Rooms/Store/Cafe/Restaurant/Accommodation at Yallingup over the years. This is a collection of their Surfside recollections from the 50s to 80s.

Jim Keenan – pioneer WA surfer

Surfside tea rooms were run by the Hammond family and was a favourite amongst the 50’s & 60’s surfing fraternity for hamburgers upon arrival and breakfast whenever the rain washed out our fires.

The Hammonds were very generous with their tucker and would stay open until our arrival from the city on a Friday night, for a weekend of surfing.

We would arrive rugged up in our great coats (winter) or bear suits half pissed from the journey down from Perth. The honest guys would order hamburgers which of course required action in the kitchen a separate room.

The dis-honest took advantage of this and filled their pockets with blocks of old gold chocolate while the counter staff were preparing the hamburgers in the kitchen. I won’t mention the main culprits name but, his initials were T.H.

I guess T.H. survived because he did share the wares when we returned to our hammocks on the rock face facing Yalls. We felt guilty but, the benefits outweighed the problem.

I have met with Garth Hammond and discussed the above and he assures me that his parents were well aware of the Fagan in our midst, but chose not to complain. Wonderful people and karma will care for T.H.

The tearooms were also the venue for the tourists arriving via a state run bus. They would flood into the rooms and buy their tea and cream covered scones. If the boys happened to visit in the same time frame, I can only imagine what they thought of the strangely dressed patrons talking in what sounded like a foreign language.

Photo: 1962 Jim Keenan & Puppydog surfing outside Gallows on Barry Bennett surfboards from NSW. Photo courtesy Jim Keenan.

1962 Gallows outside break J Keenan & Puppydog on NSW Barry Bennet boards - J Keenan pic

Peter ‘Mac’ McDonald – Yallingup

In the late 60s when we travelled down south on weekends and the weather was poor, we would sleep in the public brick toilets or on Surfside’s side verandah. Later when we were working in the SW carting hay about 10 of us (George Simpson, Ronny Ratshit, Grant Robinson, Gary Kontoolas & others) used to sleep in our cars under the melaleucas. We had breakfast (tomato mince) & dinner with Bernie & Eve at Surfside.

Bernie must have felt sorry for us sleeping in our cars and offered the back toilet/shower block to George Simpson, Rick Lobe & I. We moved in to our plush accommodation.

When the hay job finished we went off picking spuds for the Smith family near Carbunup.

Photo: Early 1970s Moore River L-R Steve ‘Blue’ Nicholson, Peter McDonald, Jenny Limb & Micko Gracie – Photo courtesy of Peter Mac.

Early 1970s Moore River Mac, Blue, Jenny & Micko - Peter Mac pic IMG_05

Steve Carr – Yallingup

This is my best recollection of the fate of George Simpson’s old Ford Customline which was abandoned outside Surfside Yalls probably around 1970/71 (or thereabouts).

The car was parked out the front of Surfside for ages and we (along with a few others) used it to sleep in if we had too many for our own car.

Bernie had had enough of it sitting out the front and asked a few of us if we could get rid of it. I can’t remember how many of us there were involved in the disposal but it was a few, probably 5 or 6 at least. One of the guys that was down there a fair bit in those days was Ian Reid who lived on a dairy farm in Capel and he had a HR Holden that was probably the newest and best car of all the locals down there at the time.

Back then there would have only been no more than a dozen houses in the bay (if that) so we decided to tow it up the hill to the top of Wardanup Crescent and push it off the road into the bush. It did take a fair bit of effort to get it up the hill and I have a recollection that “Ronnie Ratshit” was sitting on the bonnet of the old bomb as Ian was towing it but I think we had to do a bit of pushing as well. Unfortunately poor Ian finished up burning his clutch out in the process of getting it up the hill so it become an expensive exercise for him!

Needless to say Bernie was happy that the car was gone and on the other side of ledger I suspect the poor bugger who eventually bought the block had the additional cost of getting rid of the old bomb from the area before they were able to start building.

Photo: 1974 Sydney NSW Steve Carr & some party animals. Photo courtesy of Steve Carr.

70s Steve Carr & party animals1

Bruce King – Dunsborough

On stormy nights we used to sleep in the toilet block behind Surfside then wake up to a Bernie and Eve breakfast special of savoury mince on toast.

We also stayed at the Lurch house next door and quite often had card nights and séances which were downright scary at times. We communicated with the so called Yallingup ghost (he used to frequent the local area supposedly carry his head under his arm). The then president of WASRA Dr Ron Naylor was present on some occasions and could not explain the phenomena. After one session we predicted a lone swimmer who left from Cottesloe for a swim to Rottnest was apparently attacked and we would find his skull at a beach north of Perth. Trevor Burslem who was working with 6PR radio station at the time heard of this and followed it up. A skull was subsequently found on a northern beach and we gave away séances after that.

Photo: 1973 Bruce King at Three Bears. Photo courtesy of Bruce King.

1973 Bears Bruce King South West 008

Louie ‘Longboard’ Corkill – Dunsborough

In the early 70s I used to mow lawns for Harbo and Pete Dyson to earn money for food at Surfside. Pete Dyson used to pay me out of an army sock with rolled up $20 notes.

Back then Andy Jones used to be a cook at Dunsborough Bakery. In winter time I used to pinch uncut loaves of warm bread off the hot rack, hollow them out and stick my feet in them to keep warm. Mark “Murf the surf” Brescoe and I used to sleep in the hedge next to the Dunno bakery.

I felt my first women’s tits under Tom Hoye’s Board Shop next to Surfside. I fondled the girl’s breasts while her mother was above us listening to Neil Diamond’s “Hot August Night’.

Photo: 1975 Louie Corkill (age 16) at Mandurah with Len Dubben surfboard & Adler boardies. Photo courtesy of Louie Corkill.

1975 Louie Corkill age 16 Mandurah Len Dibben surfboard & Adler boardies DSC_8670a

Russell Quinlivan – Busselton.

Here is a story, printable or not. It was a cold and wintery night, 1972 inside Surfside, with myself, Paul Galbraith, Charlie Dingbat, George Simpson and this drunk guy who owned the 2 holiday units next to Surfside. George and the drunk guy were playing pool for money as we watched on. This drunk dude kept trying to antagonize George after each of his losses, but George ignored it, as he was taking this guy’s money. After his 4th loss in a row, this guy started to verbally abuse George, and even poked George heavily in the chest. George remained calm. Then this guy did the unthinkable, he slapped George across the face. “Oh No,” we thought. George, thought for a second or so. There were 3 heavy laminex tables and chairs between the pool table and the front door, which parted like the Red Sea as George upper cut this guy to the front door, casually opened it and pushed him out. George must have had a lot of brownie points with Bernie, as Bernie never said boo about the mess that we all commenced to clean up. Hope you like my story. Sorry no Bloody photos. Ha.

Photo: 1970s Russell Quinlivan at Trigg Point. Photo courtesy of Peta Quinlivan.

70s Russell Quinlivan Trigg Point - Peta Quinlivan IMG_01

Laurie ‘Loz’ Smith – Quindalup surfer & photographer

In 73-74 my brother Tony & I would sleep in his split screen Kombi in the Yallingup car park. At that time there were no rangers and camping was free. After an early surf, we used to have a brekkie of sausages & eggs on toast and a cuppa at Surfside for 60c. We would play table soccer for 10c a game while we were waiting for brekkie. We used to fill up the Kombi at Surfside using the hand pump Petrol Bowser. Surfside was the only place to eat brekkie besides the Bakery at Dunsborough. Sally Jones used to work at the Bakery and made the biggest milkshakes. If Tony & I surfed elsewhere, we camped in the Kombi at Injidup, Rocky Point or under the melaleucas near the creek at Cowtown.

Photo: 1980s Yallingup Yal Mal contest. L-R Tim Eastwood, Peter Mac & Loz Smith. Tim & Loz are holding Rob Malcolm’s 8 footers. Peter Mac’s is holding a 9ft Cordingley board shaped by Bob Monkman. Photo credit Peter Mac.

1980s Early Yal Mal unknown, Mac & Loz - Peter Mac pic IMG_01

Mal Leckie – Queensland surfer & artist

I remember one funny morning at Surfside. When you ordered your meal you got a numbered ticket and then Eve would appear at the little side door-window thing and call out the number when it was ready. We all sat waiting and talking at the tables.

Eve came to the window and yelled out “99” but nobody came forward, so she put the meal aside and served a couple of others. Then she tried again with “99” a couple of times but nobody showed up. Then she got a bit edgy and yelled out a very loud “Ninety-bloody-nine” but still nobody responded as she stood there holding the plate and looking at the ticket. Everyone was quiet now as the mystery evolved and we were all waiting to see who it was that was going to cop a mouthful from Eve. But as she stood there with plate and ticket, she suddenly got a sheepish look on her face, then very quietly said, “oh, Number 66”.

The place erupted with belly laughs. I’m sure whoever had 66 will remember that, it was a classic.

Photo: 1973 Nedlands Mal Leckie & Tony Hart. Photo credit Faye Hart.

1973 Nedlands Mal Leckie & Tony Hart - Faye Hart pic

Al Bean – Surfboard Shaper Dunsborough

In the early 70s I shaped surfboards for Gary Greirson in Osborne Park. Then I convinced Gaz to let me shape boards down south. In 1975 I moved down south and shaped 10 boards per week at an Ellenbrook Road rental property. I converted an old lean-to on the side of the house into a shaping bay. I surfed and shaped 2 boards per day & drove boards back to the city on a Friday night, socialised over weekend & then drove back to SW with surfboards blanks on a Sunday night.

Late in 77 my dad told me his accountant had a syndicate that had bought a caravan park and store in the SW and they wanted me to manage it for them. When I found out it was at Yallingup I was rapt. I became Manager of Surfside & the Yalls Beach Caravan Park on 20 Dec 1977 at age 20 years. I learnt to cook and employed local girls to help at Surfside.

Back then city surfers would sleep in cars in the car park and we would get up to 60 surfers waiting for breakfast each morning over the weekend. It was a different story during the week and we would be lucky to sell a choc milk & newspaper to Harbo at Hideaway Homes. So I would close the shop mid-week and go surfing. On a Wednesday I would play country darts at Caves House with all the House boys (local family).

Young Mark ‘Hillzee’ Hills used to cash soft drink bottles at the shop and then sneak around the back and pinch them to re-sell again (-:

I did a bit of grass slashing at the Caravan Park, but not much else. Leon Thomasian used to live in the Caravan Park and would hide in the long grass to avoid paying camping fees.

I managed Surfside and the Beach Caravan Park until 1979.

Photo: 1974 Al Bean (age 19) with Grierson Surfboard at South Point. Photo credit Ric Chan

1974 Sth Pt Al Bean - Ric Chan DSC00021

Leon Thomasian – Dunsborough

In the late 70s, I lived in Al Bean’s unkempt Caravan Park on Yallingup beach. The park was covered in double-gees and would puncture thongs. I was worked as a lighthouse keeper at Cape Naturaliste, Cape Leeuwin and Cape Leveque in the NW before heading over east.

In the 80s young Dane & Scotty Richardson lived in the Beach Caravan Park with their dad. The Richardson boys were like terrorists and got up to all types of mischief with Mark Hills.

Photo: 1978 Leon Thomasian at Meelup Valeey. Photo credit Vance Burrow.

1978 SW Leon Thomasian Meelup Valley cropped VB IMG

Mark ‘Hillsy’ Hills – Quindalup

Biggest memories for me at Surfside as kids were the pinball machines. It was 20 cents a game and to get money to play we used to go through the bins and look for cool drink bottles which you could cash in for 8 cents at Surfside. Would have been around 1978/79 and I was about 12 or thirteen. Tony and Coral Harbison owned Hide Away Holiday homes where we would stay through the holidays and down the side of their home they would stack cool drink bottles in crates left by guests . This was a treasure trove for the pinball machines. Me and Pete Felton thought it would be a good idea to knock off this treasure trove and cash it in a Surfside. We got busted by Harbo and being pretty bloody fair he offered us half the profit if we took the cool drink bottles over to Surfside instead of just taking them. This worked a treat as we also noticed that it was very easy to access where Surfside stacked their bottles. So we would carry Harbo’s bottles over, half the profit, then later take back our bottles from Surfside and cash them back in again. We played a lot of pinball .

Photo: 1990 Mark Hills surfing Rabbits on Mitch Thorson’s Campbell Bros Bonza surfboard. Photo Credit Kevin ‘Twiggy’ Sharland.

1990 Rabbits Mark Hills on Mitch Thorsons Campbell Bros bonza board - Twiggy Sharland pic

Refer to Surfing Down South book for Garth Hammond’s & George Simpson’s Surfside recollections.