Matt Warshaw interviewed Peter Townend for three Surfer's Journal articles in the 1990s: one on Wayne Bartholomew, another on the early days of pro surfing, and one on pro surfing near the end of the century. This Q&A contains excerpts from all three conversations.

You grew up not far from Rabbit's house, in Coolangata?

My parents knew his parents, they were all good friends before Bugs and I were even born. When I was in school I had a big-time crush on one of his sisters.

We cut down and reshaped an old longboard at my house, dragged it down to Greenmount and rode re-forms. That would've been late 1967, early '68. Then we both just took off from there. A year later, two years later, in 1969 and 1970, we were already learning to ride the barrel. We'd have entire days at Kirra where we did nothing but ride the tube. No turns, no cutbacks, just drag a hand and get in the tube.

You and Bugs were both on the world contest team that went to San Diego in 1972.

Yeah, but Rabbit was a reserve. He didn't actually get a start in the contest.

Rabbit was already close with Michael Peterson.

They were still great friends, yes, because Rabbit was still in juniors. They weren't competing against each other yet. Michael, in fact, was making Bugs' boards. He had this one board we called the Garden Slug, a green thing, the ugliest piece of shit you've ever seen, that Michael shaped for him.

You were the first one to really dice with MP.

Yeah, oh my God, it was so competitive between us. Like I said, Bugs was still a junior when MP and I were doing battle. And it wasn't just contest results, you know. Michael was totally in the Nat Young school, and people said I was next in line after Midget Farrelly. It was really a big deal in our area as to who followed me and who followed Michael. So yeah, we were going head to heat while Rabbit was in juniors, then I began traveling the world, doing whatever contests I could find, and back home all of a sudden Rabbit moves up to open division and the MP rivalry went right on to him.

In those early years, Michael had both your guys' numbers, at least in terms of competing.

He did, yeah. But that turned out to be the best thing for us. Bugs and I never would have been as good as we were if it hadn't been for MP.

You and MP . . . I can't really think of two more different surfers from that era.

It's true. And not just the way we surfed. Michael was a recluse, for one thing. He couldn't stand the thought of being famous. Where I was totally the opposite, I loved the fame, I fuckin' danced on tabletops after the contest, and if I could've hung out with Bob Dylan, great.

MP was the most naturally talented surfer I've ever seen. He was an animal in the water, all instinct and raw ability. My thing was always precise, calculated.

The ultimate competitor. Rabbit had more tricks up his sleeve than anybody. Talent-wise, he had more than me, but neither one of us had that pure physical talent of MP. Or MR or Shaun, for that matter. But Rabbit was the best competitor, and he learned a lot of that from MP

I'd like to get your take on how the world tour came together in 1976.

I always knew it would happen. In fact, I thought it would happen sooner. We had a vision, even when we first started going to the Islands, in '72. Once we made a little bit of money in those early pro contests, it was just a matter of trying to figure out how do it all the time.

How did your vision line up with what Fred Hemmings and Randy Rarick were working on?

I was living with Michael Tomson in South Africa, and Randy was staying there too. This was June and July 1976. Fred and Randy had this idea that they were going to do a rating's system based on prizemoney earnings. In fact, they had a ratings sheet all worked out for 1975 based on money—MR won, by a mile. But we didn't think it was fair because there was really only one contest that had any real money at the time, and that was the Smirnoff. Everything else was peanuts. So while Fred and Randy were doing that, Ian and I, Fitz [Terry Fitzgerald], Claw [Doug Warbrick] and Graham Cassidy, all sat down and formed the Australian Professional Surfing Association. I created the first ratings system, based on Grand Prix motor racing. That was the model. You went around the world and earned a set number of points for your placing in each event, then you added up the points at the end of the year and there's your world champion. Our way, the points for were uniform, each event was worth the same in terms of how the points were spread out. Their way, the money was all over the place, some contests were worth three or four or five times more than other contests, so your rating was going to depend pretty much on how you did in the Smirnoff. In Durban that year, we convinced Randy, and he convinced Fred, to use the Grand Prix model.

Wow, so as of July 1976 this was all up in the air? Nobody even knew there was going to actually be a world title that year?

People knew we were working on something. Going into Hawaii a few months later, everybody pretty much knew that there was going to be a new organization and that somebody was going to win a world title. But no, the circuit didn't have a name yet. It wasn't official.

How many pros were doing it full-time at that point?

Maybe eight guys who went to all the events, something like that.

No, mate, no way. Nobody was. We didn't even live event to event. We lived behind. We were borrowing from each other all the time, or borrowing from our families, or the bank. Ian and I never had any money until 

 and then we blew all that on the Bronzed Aussies.

Hawaii was the big deal going into the end of 1976, even before Fred and Randy announced the formation of the IPS.

Hawaii was everything. In Australia, you'd work all year, you'd do anything, construction, shape boards, make pies, whatever it took, just to save money to go to Hawaii for four months. You'd arrive in October and leave in March—and you'd be bummed, like you hadn't spent enough time there.

That winter I lived alone, down at Pipe. I was house sitting.

A 7'10" Parrish, pink with a white bolt. Outside of Hawaii, I had a 6' 10" that I made myself.

And that Fall, when the IPS launched and all the previous contests from that year were tallied up . . . had you done all the events?

I missed Florida, Brazil and New Zealand.

There were four rated North Shore contests to wrap things up, and going into the last one, the World Cup, you had a small lead over Ian.

He needed to beat me by I think two or three places to take the title off me.

We spent half our prize money, his and mine together, on drinks that night, yeah.

At the end of 1976, when you counted all the money up, how much did you earn?

Just prizemoney, or everything put together?

Prizemoney, a couple sponsorship deals, I did a column for the 

, shaped a few boards . . . all together it was just over $26,000.

Cause you had to pay all your travel expenses?

Yeah, that, and . . . lifestyle stuff, you know? Just being who I was.

I did. And I loved it. I didn't think there was anything wrong with being a personality, with being larger-than-life. I wanted to look a certain way, dress a certain way, live a certain way. And I was happy to spend whatever money I had to do those things.

This conversation was recorded in 1996, when Townend was the marketing director for Rusty, and thus responsible for all the deal-making with Rusty team riders.

Who are the top five marketable surfers of all time?

Kelly Slater first, easy. Shaun [Tomson] would be second. Then Nat Young, Tom Carroll, and . . . Gerry Lopez.

No. Curren, great as he was, as he still is, was just too introverted. And I say that as somebody who was really close to him. We still have a great relationship.

Kind of the same deal; unbelievable talent, but forced media efforts.

The power of charisma, yeah. That is a really important part of why you want to pay somebody, along with his competitive results. You can all the results in the world—like Damien Hardman, for example—but you have to ask if that person really helps sell any product. At the end of the day, that's why you pay them.

What's your definition of "charisma," as it applies to surfing?

You have to be good-looking, to be able to speak. You gotta have gonads, you know? You have to take chances. You gotta be confident. You gotta have ego! It's a dirty word, ego, but the fact is if you don't have it you won't get all the way to the top. I tell you what else matters a lot—where you're from. Brazil, I think, is going to be the next big thing. I really 

 want to sign a hot young Brazilian surfer. You have to think globally now.

What about the pros who don't compete? Travel pros, or whatever you want to call them.

That's great and all, but only to a point. The growth can only go so high. Say you're Brock Little—and I'm not putting him down—but how are you going to do any better than what you've already done? Brock can't get any more photos, can't ride any bigger waves, can't go on more trips. He's done all that, he's maxed out. So it's time for a new contract, what more can he bring to the deal? Nothing. Whereas Slater's going to Quiksilver to negotiate his next deal with three world titles in his back pocket. The contests give you a scoreboard, is what I'm saying.

Nobody seems to really know how much pro surfers make. How about if I throw some numbers at you? These are numbers I've heard from other people.

No, way too high. Cut it in half and you're about there

Yes, and rightfully so. He's worth every penny.

Why are pro surfers, and companies, so secretive about how much money people are earning?

It's just the way we are. Everything about surfing is secretive (big laugh). Maybe it goes back to the fact that when you find a good wave you don't tell anyone. That's just the surfer mentality, right? If you've got something good, why tell the world?

[Photos: Dick Graham, Bernie Baker, Jeff Divine]

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