Quotes from this interview were used in “Carwyn Williams: Another Place, Another Time,” by Matt Warshaw, which ran in the May 1989 issue of SURFER. Williams was 24.

My father used to work in the coal mines, and before that was a hot rugby player, one of the best in the country. He's worked really hard all his life, and he begrudges me what I do because of that. He's a long way from retiring.

Yeah, 13 rooms, a really nice place. But they do the whole thing themselves, and it's a lot of work. They both work way too hard.

No, I don't know. Not exactly. It's just the way they were brought up, both my mother and father. They were brought up to work. They were told that you worked, had a family, worked some more, and retired. And that was it, basically. That's life to them. Life to me, at the moment, is surfing. And it's just so different from what they know. My mom is quite understanding about what I do. Actually, to tell the truth, my father's beginning to come 'round too. This summer, in France, when I beat Damien [Hardman] and started to get a little money together, he was much happier about the whole thing. When I beat Damien, the word spread around the whole of Wales really quickly.

So for example, last year I phoned my mother from Hawaii and she said, 'Isn't it about time you came home and got a job?' And I said, 'No, not yet.' If it was up to my parents, I'd have gone home right then and gotten a job. They'd been trying to tell me to get serious the whole time. They thought I'd grow out of surfing, they really did. But I think it took a turn this summer, when the contests in France. Now I think it’s OK. I hope.

No, no, no. Not flowing. Just a little; maybe it'll get better. The thing is, I've never really needed any money. I need enough to eat after a surf session. And for some petrol, if I was driving. Money's never worried me.

I went to Catholic school. A private school. It was strict. I couldn't ditch to go surfing, which was a real shame. In five years, I only managed to ditch twice.

Just a year, and just 'cause I didn't know what I wanted to do. I went to a tech college in Swansea, but really I just surfed all year. It was great. I was 17, and one of my friends had a VW van, and we explored all of Gower Peninsula. Seventeen, 18, 19 years old, those were the adventure years. We walked and drove everywhere, surfing and looking for new breaks, sleeping in the van We have secret spots to this day. I cried when we sold that van.

We found this one place we called the Boot. A ferry had sunk, just off this beach. Not a great disaster or anything. I think one person had a heart attack, or something, but no one died. Anyway, this is about 15 miles from where I live, it's really shallow right there, and the ferry hit a rock and sank. We'd already scouted this beach a couple years back, and I'd seen a perfect little peak, and I said to the guys, "C'mon, we gotta go find it again." So we found it, and sure enough is was really good, small but good, maybe three-feet, and as we walked in we found this big old boot on the beach. All the people who'd been on that ferry, when it sank they'd all taken their shoes off. There were shoes along the whole coast in that area. After we surfed that day, we picked up about a hundred shoes. Just bags full of shoes. It was stupid, we just picked them up for something to do, you know. But we found that big boot first off, and the place has been called the Boot ever since. It's actually quite well-known now.

The first board I actually owned I got for my 14th birthday. This plastic 7' 1" popout, lime green and yellow, with a red lightning bolt. Indestructible. I was still really little, and couldn't get my arm around it, and dropped it so many times on the way to the beach.

Well . . . I was out there, trying. I started in the beginning of summer, and by the end of the summer I still hadn't got to my knees yet. Then it got cold just as I was kind of figuring things out. It just took me ages to learn how to stand up. Maybe six months. Then winter started, and it that was hard. I'd go surf for five minutes sometimes. I'd be in shorts and a rugby vest, and the temperature was right at freezing. It was only on sunny days that we'd go out.

That first year, no. After I while I just had to quit. The next year I had a wetsuit, but no booties. My feet would go blue, but I surfed all winter.

Long flat spells, but you can surf all year. And when it goes down, we have good pubs in Mumbles. The best pubs.

The Langland Bay. We play pool and drink. Where I'm from, there’s the whole club's honor thing, and for me, with the pub, it's kind of a high just to walk in. It was built in the mid-1800s. Roger the barman lends anyone money who needs it; you can run up a tab. This guy I know owes over 200 pounds. All the local surfers, all the guys who got into drugs and then got out of drugs, they all drink there. We've got the best pool team in Mumbles.

Just the B team. But the B team is actually more fun, we're not as serious.

So how does it work, as far as playing other teams?

In Mumbles, I'd say there are 25 pubs, maybe 30, and most have pool teams. So we go to a different pub every Wednesday, or another team comes to ours. You play, you drink. Sandwiches are brought out halfway through, it's really nice. We also have a great cricket team—our indoor cricket team is one of the best in Wales.

Twenty regulars, about. We've all got our glasses behind the bar. I’ve had my own glass for three years. Roger knows who's glass belongs to who. I got home last time, this was awful, I went up to the bar, and had to ask for a drink. Normally it's on the bar waiting by the time I get there. I'll stop a couple times between the door and the bar to talk to people. So my first drink is usually waiting. But this time I got there, no beer, and I said "Rog?" And he looks at me and just shakes head. He says, "It's smashed." My glass was smashed. I wasn't home all summer, and my glass slowly got moved to the end of the shelf, then it finally got knocked off the end.

Just picked another glass, went out to the car and put a couple of stickers on it. So that's my new one.

When you get a little drunk, and you're playing pool or something, you look up, "Where's my drink?" you know. And you can pick it right of a group. It's your glass.

You must miss the place when you're gone.

I miss the Langland Bay as much as I miss anything in the area. I miss everything about it. I actually call and write when I'm traveling; I'll call and say hello.

You're known for staying on the road months at a time, living out of your car, cooking meals on your little portable stove.

I was in Australia [in 1987], and I'd been traveling around between contests, and then writing letters back home to my best friend Phil, saying to him, Get ready, we're going to France this summer, I've learned to cook, it's gonna be great! I got home and sure enough, Phil was ready to go.

Three-and-a-half months. Slept in the car the whole time. Or slept on the beach, mostly. At Hossegor. Right when I ran out of money I won a contest in Spain. I'd just begun bumming money off Phil. So that worked out well. We didn't eat out once in three months; when I won that contest, that was the first time we went out.

No, we ended up at Mundaca for, in October. We lived next to the church there.

Yeah, that's something I wanted to mention. The locals there . . . I paddled out for the first time at Mundaca, sat on the shoulder and took off on waves that no one else wanted. I spent days and days working my out to the peak. I was a better surfer than anyone out there, but no way I was going to go out there and try to take charge. Anyway, by the end of October, I was the furthest person outside. No problems. Friends with all the locals. We were all stoked. And then I saw the pros go there this year, and I saw a local drop in on one of the Aussies—but so what, right? It's their spot. It was Rod Kerr, he got dropped in.

And there was nearly a fight in the water. I watched and just felt so bad that it was happening. But here's what I want to say: the pros don't show enough respect to people, to local surfers. Like when I was a kid, I was brought up from one break to another to another, and I had to earn respect before I could move on. I really think its wrong that pros turn up somewhere and think, just because they surf better, that they can take the best waves. Someone lives there, works all week, then its a Saturday, or after work, and they just want to get a couple of waves. But here's some new guy, a visitor, rated whatever on the World Tour, taking off on anything he wants. That's wrong.

France and Spain last year, that was your first long trip?

Lots of short trips, but I guess just one other long one.

The year before. Glen Winton got that one started. I was at my girlfriend's house, in Mumbles, in November. Sitting around her house, beautiful girl, parents were away, I was in love, nothing else mattered. I'd just got back from the European titles, and I didn't want to go anywhere. Christmas was coming. I was home. Then the phone rings, I pick it up, and it's Glen. I'd met him once or twice, that's all. He says, "What are you doing this winter?" I go, "Aw, I'm staying here. I've got a girlfriend, no money, you know." And he says, "No, you've got to come over for the contests. The first one starts a week from Monday." I couldn't really say no, could I? One of the best surfers in the world phones me up and says I should go. So few days later I had my ticket, all the money I'd saved up, and I went back to my girlfriends house and said, "Look, I'm going to Australia day after tomorrow."

Yeah, and the funny thing is, that first contest, I missed my heat. I rushed out of Wales so fast, and still missed my heat. I wasn't too sure about what I was going to do after that. I was just surfing and having a great time with Glen. Then his Auntie came round one afternoon and said she was selling her car for $300. It was this beautiful little '69 Morris Minor, white. So I bought it and drove straight to Ulladulla, by myself, stayed for a month, had Christmas there. Then I headed off to Taree, stopped at Glen's place on the way, and he gave me a little gas stove and said, "Learn to cook" So I bought a knife and a chopping board, some other bits and pieces, a load of veggies and stuff. So off I go to the contest in Taree, won my first heat, then the next morning I wake up and the contest has moved. It was a mobile contest. And my car won't start. My car's parked in these bushes, and I'm stuck there for three days. Lucky I bought the groceries and stuff. So for three days I sat there, surfed and ate, and just loved it.

Eventually flagged a guy down, a mechanic, $50 to get car fixed. Got back in, took a week getting to the Gold Coast for next contest. I'd drive along, take a right, find the cost, look for a spot, surf, sleep in the car. Made it the Gold Coast, got third in the contest, surfed some more great waves. Then back in the car, two more days at Ulladulla, then drove all the way to Bells. The car was holding up beautifully. No locks on the doors. No key. I had to start it with a knife. I drove so slowly, thinking that would keep it in good shape, the motor and all. Forty miles-per-hour at the fastest, that's all. Three boards in the car. It took me forever to get anywhere. Bombed out second heat at Bells, turn around, back to Ulladulla for a bit, then Sydney, then home. Just left the car by the side of the road.

Little over six months. Put 10,000 miles on the car.

How much money did you spent for the whole deal?

I left Wales with 500 pounds [about $1,200]. Plus I won $100 in a contest. So that's what I spent over six months, including buying the car.

Last year was your first trip to Hawaii. Were you scared?

About the waves? Yeah! I was panicking. I was shitting bricks. I swam every day for two weeks before.

Were you scared about finding a place to stay?

A little. I flew in, checked my boards into a locker at the airport, and it was three days before I found a car in Waikiki.

I couldn't find anything cheap enough. Finally, there in the back of this gas station, I found this old Chevy V8 Monte Carlo for $250. Found a place to park at Backyards, and lived in the car for six weeks. Ate sandwiches every day. Then I finally got a place at Off the Wall, where I worked for my room, doing chores and stuff. Extended my plane ticket once, then again. I had to stay; I had to learn how to surf there. No way I was going to really get anywhere in just six weeks.

Do you feel like your getting to old to live in a car?

No, not really. But surfing is what it's all about. If I land in a place to go surfing, and I don't know anybody, or I'm short on money, I'll buy a car, live in it, drive around and find the best waves.

What would rather do, stay in a car or a hotel?

For the contests, its better to stay in a hotel. There's something to be said for going to a room in the evening, having a shower and getting into a nice bed.

I really enjoy sleeping on the beach. Waking up in the morning when the surf is good. Or cooking outdoors, watching the sun go down. It's beautiful.

You'll be on the tour full time this year.

Quiksilver and Rip Curl are backing me now, so I won't be living in cars. But just barely. I have just enough money to travel around, that's it. Nothing extra. If I put anything in my pocket, it'll be from prizemoney.

Mostly, yes. But it's also because everyone in Mumbles has been hassling me to get on the Tour. I go off in Mumbles. When I'm free- surfing, I can do anything. People back there really want to see me do the tour, so it'll be for them too.

You don't sound super-stoked on the whole idea.

No, I am. Or . . . I don't know. One thign is, I don't really know if I have the right mind for it, you know? I see the pros out there, hassling, taking off on all the waves, and I don't like it. I don't know if I want to be part of it. You've got to hassle, you have to drop in, you have to burn people. Maybe I'm too nice for all that. Like, Dino Andino dropped in on me the other day at Off the Wall, on a perfect wave. Jeff Booth did the same thing a week ago. Perfect waves, both times. And I’d been sitting outside talking to them for a half-hour! They both paddle back and, saying, "I owe you one." But I'm not going to drop in on them when the next perfect wave comes through, you know? That's stupid. What's the point? I can't drop in on someone's perfect wave. So I'll just sit there, and be nice and not say anything.

It's cutthroat out there a lot of the time.

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