 about the first two great post-revolution surfers at Pipeline—“Jock Sutherland, my third-favorite surfer as a kid, rode Pipeline like he had a stick of dynamite up his ass; Gerry Lopez rode it like Audrey Hepburn stepping out of a cab on 5th Ave"—prompted New Zealand surfer Phil Bonham, a retired art and art history teacher, to shoot me an email recalling the decade he spent in Hawaii, starting in 1962. Phil didn't lay claim to it himself, but he may have been the first person to surf Backdoor. We started there, but the conversation that followed went further afield, and Phil agreed to let me stitch the emails together into the post you see here.

Enjoyed your last post. Thought I’d mention a brief experience I had at Pipe in 1966. I was never any good on the left, except one day when it was peaky and easier to get into. Nobody was out except me and my friend Neil Morimoto; I think it was our first time there. Then Fred Hemmings paddled out and said we were getting some good rides, which boosted our egos.

My worst day at Pipe, it was only three- to five-foot, but really fast and hollow, with plenty of double-ups. One other guy was out. I didn't know him but he was really good and knew how to ride the barrel. I saw him smiling in anticipation as he paddled into this one double-up and, watching from the back, he went quite a way but finally got eaten. As soon as his head popped up, he said, “Baby, you know what I like!” which I thought was kinda corny.

I didn’t make a single wave that afternoon. The lip hit me in the back of the neck again and again. I came in, and as I was walking up the beach I saw three girls looking out at the good surfer. "Who is that guy?" I asked. They answered in unison, “Jock Sutherland!”

A bit about myself. I’m a New Zealander, born in 1946. In January 1962, I moved to Hawaii with my parents and older brother Peter. I was there for ten years. Apart from the occasional bellyboarding straight to shore on a plank of wood as a kid at Takapuna Beach, I didn’t surf until our first week in Waikiki, at age 15. I learned at Canoes and Queens on rented boards, back when George Downing was running the concession stand. I picked up on surfing etiquette pretty quickly. Early on, I realized that you’re supposed to go across the wall, so positioned myself on the shoulder to get the rights—then heard a good surfer say, sarcastically, “Yeah, sit on the shoulder so you can drop in on us.” I’d learned the word "shoulder" that day, and also learned not to drop in.

Peter and I convinced our Dad to buy us a surfboard so we wouldn't have to rent boards all the time. We got a Surfboards Hawaii. A new friend of mine at Roosevelt High recommended the brand. Decades later that I figured out it was probably a Dick Brewer shape; at the time I didn’t even know what a "shaper" was.

We soon figured out that Number Threes was the best right in Waikiki, so we rented a lockable board rack below the building next to the Fort Derussy changing rooms, which were right in front of Threes. It was great. On big south swells, I'd surf for hours, and get to watch George Downing, Paul Strauch, and Joey Cabell. Then we'd lock up our board, have a hot shower in the changing rooms, and walk back to the base of Diamond Head where we lived.

It was at Kaisers, not Threes, where we learned how to get in the barrel—but when Threes was big there were tubes to be had there as well. Once I saw Downing get held back on a wave because a guy was riding in front of him. George was standing tall and trimming as the lip of the curl came down and bashed on the tail of his board. If it was me, I'd have bailed or straightened off. But George simply crouched down, grabbed the outside rail, and pulled up high under the lip into the barrel, which he rode all the way across. It was a revelation. The same thing happened to me later on. I copied George. I was crouched really low, head down, hand on the rail while I raced along inside. All was silent. I think I had my eyes shut, haha, and I recall thinking, "I’m still going!" A few seconds later I got snuffed. When I returned to the lineup, George caught my eye and gave me a little nod.

Another memory of Jock. I was out at Sunset once when it was about eight-foot. (I always estimated wave height by the face, not the so-called "Hawaiian size," and I never heard that term the whole time I lived there.) I hardly ever surfed Sunset, but was glad I was there on this day because the Australians were out and it was clear that Jock was showing off to them. The Aussies all had their new wide-tailed McTavish-style boards, and they weren't really working on this day of stiff tradewinds and surface chop. I recall paddling out and being quite near Midget Farrelly when I saw him look down at his feet as he rode a wave, wondering what was going on. I swear I could see his board vibrating. Then I see Jock with a smile on his face as he does a skeg-first takeoff with the Aussies paddling out nearby. Jock's board whips around as he takes the drop, and just like that he goes from riding goofyfoot to riding regular. His board was, I guess, the first generation of mini-guns, narrow and pointed at both ends, with a fair bit of kick in the nose but not much in the tail.

I'd seen Jock do things like that before. He lived on the North Shore, but would drive into Town to surf when a big south swell hit. At Threes one afternoon, Jock was switching stance on nearly every turn. I recall paddling out and watching him drop in regular for a bottom turn, switch to goofy for a cutback, switch again for a forehand turn into the barrell, then switched back to goofy for another cutback. I thought it was amazing, but also kinda silly.

A year or two later, during the shortboard revolution, I was on the beach at Haleiwa when it was really big, maybe fifteen feet. I just watched that day. You could always spot Jock due to his unique style. He was no longer switching multiple times on a single ride; now he seemed to like simply facing the wave in either direction. Goofy when going left, regular when going right. That day at Haleiwa, he caught one behind Johnny Fain, who took the drop straight in what looked like slow motion. Jock, behind him, hit bottom, shot up to the curl, and was heading down again while Johnny was still making his first turn. Blew everyone's mind.

My friend Ron Ishikawa took a shot of me doing a bottom turn on a left at Off The Wall in 1966 (except, again, it wasn't called that at the time), and it was published in SURFER a year or so later. The magazine said that I was a New Zealander surfing at a break called Ke Nui—Ron named it that after the name of the road alongside Kam Highway, nearby.

I did better at Backdoor. Except we didn’t know what it was called. I don’t remember where we walked in from in order to access the beach. It wasn't Ehukai Beach Park, and we knew where Pipeline was, so it wasn't right in front there. I think we approached through a track between houses to the west and were looking at it from the shoulder. I do recall seeing a wave break and thinking, "Wow, what a great right!" Only later did we realize it was the other end of the Pipeline, and that it worked better with a north or northwest swell.

Anyway, I surfed it alone, every time, except once—and that guy was mostly going left. My board at the time was a 10’ 3’’ Hobie hotdog shape that I’d bought from Neil Morimoto. It was bigger than I’d wanted, but cheap. At Backdoor, it took me a few wipeouts to learn how to make the drop, but I eventually figured it out and had a great time out there.

Well, that’s about it. I've got plenty of other memories of great surfs, in Hawaii and here in New Zealand, but I’d be rambling. I’m so grateful for the few years I got Backdoor more or less to myself. I didn’t like crowds and we explored and surfed at obscure breaks out Mokuleia way, or around Kahuku Point.

I’m 77 now, Matt, and just getting back into surfing shape after an ankle operation due to skin cancer, which took four months to heal. Sticking to three-foot-and-under waves for now.

[Photos: Milton Chun, Ron Ishikawa, Bruce Johnson]

PHIL BONHAM, SURFING'S ORIGINAL BACKDOOR MAN

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