"Warren Bolster: Focused on the Energy," an uncredited interview, ran in the September 1977 issue of SURFER. Bolster was 29 years old.

I've always been a late bloomer. I didn't start surfing until I was 16 or 17, which is really late. When I was 12, I was a hot baseball player, just red hot. If I'd been surfing at that age instead, I think I would have done all right, but getting started at 16—I didn’t have the beach knowledge you get if you start real young. It took me a long time to figure out what was really going on. In fact, I feel I've just come into it now, and I’m almost 30 years old. I'm pretty much a photographer now, but surfing is still what really gets me off. Surfing is the juice in my life.

Back in 1971. I was really frustrated at the time; I'd been married a year or two and didn’t have much going for me. I'd always wanted a camera. I’d asked my parents for one years earlier, but they’d never gotten around to it. So I wrote them a letter, it went something like, "I have to have a camera. I don’t care if you ever buy me another birthday or Christmas present, all I want is a camera, and if you'll do that for me I’ll be forever grateful." And they sent me the camera! A little while after that I got a good deal on a water housing— that was probably the summer of '72. I didn’t even know what an F-stop was until 1972.

How long did it take to become really involved in photography?

Right when I got the water housing. That was it.

Self-taught, but definitely not self-inspired. Before I ever picked up a camera, I was always impressed with Ron Stoner's work. I thought his photos were insanely beautiful, they just really captured the essence of what the surfing experience was. The type of photos where I could show my parents and say, "Hey, Mom and Dad, this is what surfing’s like." Maybe John Severson was the first guy I noticed, but Stoner really made a lasting impression. After that, it was Art Brewer. I was also impressed by Ron Perrott's travel stuff, and all the inventive things George Greenough did. Greenough made a really strong impression on me. More recently, I’ve been inspired by Bud Browne. He’s a classic. I like Bud's style. Intense, full action in all realms, he’s really captured the essence, the juice. Except for Greenough, all other water photographers are just copying a style Bud pioneered.

You're more interested in water shots than shooting from the land?

There are days when it's best for water shots, and other days are really good for telephoto shots, and I try to do both. But yes, I’m more interested in water shots. It gets me more involved with the ocean, the whole act of surfing is a much more personal thing for me when I'm in the water. Sitting on the beach is boring at times, and most people can take pictures from there with just a little training. Water photography is a whole different game. Much harder, much more demanding. Also, I find that taking water shots helps maintain my surfing. By concentrating on surfers, I'm mentally surfing myself, and that really helps

Is surf photography progressing at the same rate as the sport itself?

In many ways I'd say it’s progressing faster. There seems to be a lot more creativity in photography. The surfing that I see now—guys were doing it in 1967. Nat Young and those guys were doing the same things that we’re doing today, more or less. Perhaps it’s a bit more fine-tuned these days, but it's just a matter of degrees. In photography, you're seeing whole new worlds opening up. Like camera boards, for example. Gerry Lopez surfing Pipe with a camera mounted on his board. That's the direction I want to head in, for sure. I want to put people right there where it’s happening, I want to show people what it’s like in the tube.

What perspectives right now are you most interested in?

For me, like I said, inside the tube looking out. I think it would be nice to see a photo taken by a photographer who’s behind the surfer. There was a split second of that in Curt Mastalka’s film 

. One of the guys wearing a camera helmet got ripped off by a surfer who did a bottom turn right in front of him. I thought that was tremendous, but it only lasted onscreen for a few seconds. I’d like to see more of that.

How do you deal with localism and surf-spot secrecy?

That's really a touchy situation, and I wish I didn't have to deal with it. It’s something forced on you by the culture you're in. I don’t really believe in the form of localism we have in California, and it's too bad that it's spreading throughout the world. It's an awkward situation where, as a photographer, people may see you as a destroyer of everything that they believe in.

No. If it’s really a secret spot, I want to keep that spot secret; I don’t want to be the one to bust it.

Do you think we’ll evolve out of localism?

I think it will grow up. I don't think being a local is a totally bad thing. I think being a local in your area should be a good thing; it should be something where you’re proud of your area, you respect it, and you want to see it treated properly by people who visit. I just disagree with the methods people use to enforce their will on others. I don’t like to see people give someone a hard time just because he's not from that spot. If that guy goes out in the water and rips people off for waves, or litters the beach, sure, I think someone's gotta get the word to him, ’cause there’s no law at most surf spots except for what the people who live there decide. But I'd like to see a time where people will just be respectful of each other, and it won’t be so intense and violent.

You've managed to fit into most situations, localized or non-localized.

Maybe it’s because I’m a diplomat’s son, or because I’ve always traveled. I’ve never really been from any one place, so naturally I’m not going to be full-on into localism. I've always liked all different kinds of people, and I don’t really like group pressure; I’ve always been repulsed by group pressure. I like to be able to come and go freely, but it’s hard sometimes. It's super uncomfortable to walk down the beach at a place you’ve never been, with a tripod and a giant telephoto lens, then set up and shoot. Even if no one is hassling you, I don't like to be the center of attention. So that's another reason I like water photography. It's more subtle. My camera is really small, I carry it down there, hopefully people don’t even see me go in the water, and I just shoot, and I'm just part of what's happening. It's much more low profile, and that’s the way I like it.

I hate to say the normal thing that everyone says, but to get the best surf photos, you need the best conditions and the best surfers, and that means Hawaii. Hawaii is still the ultimate.

Off The Wall, Pipeline, and the South Shore.

How do you feel about the situation at Off the Wall, where surfers go to there mostly just because it's the best place to shoot, not necessarily the best wave?

I think it’s great. The place is such an energy center, and I love energy centers. The ability level jumps by leaps and bounds when you've got a place like Off the Wall. Photographers aren't creating the energy there, it's the surfers themselves. Then everyone moves forward together, surfers and photographers.

Worldwide, where do you think surfing's main energy center is now?

Australia. I think Australians have the right attitude about surfing. They're competitive, and they don’t deny it. They enjoy it. They work together as a group. They’re friendly, fun-loving people, but at the same time they’re very serious about their sport, and out of all that has come a really modern breed of surfer. Perhaps it isn't quite as elegant as what’s happening in Hawaii or California. But Australia has the juice right now, for sure.

How do you feel about the current level of surfers in California?

There’s are definitely some good surfers in California. But I think they’d be even better if they were worked together more. Instead, you have a bunch of little cliques. There's just a certain narrowness to the whole place, it seems. Someone like Chris O’Rourke, he's so good already, but think about how much better he'd in a more creative surf atmosphere. Which is strange in a way, because California is the most creative place I’ve ever been—it's just that the surf scene, for whatever reason, is following along. Surfing here doesn't have the necessary freedom. Psychology will tell you that you can't be creative until you’ve satisfied your basic needs, and freedom is a basic need, just like hunger, love, and the rest. In spite of all the glorified talk, there’s really very little love or brotherhood in California surfing today. And that affects everybody, local or non-local.

When the pro circuit comes through California for the first time this September, what effect do you think that might have?

I think it'll be great. The Katin Pro-Am events have done a lot of good; they've shown California what’s going on in other areas, in other parts of the world, and I think that’s helped California surfing in general. I've seen some really good surfing at the Katin. This next year will increase the energy even more. I don't believe that contest surfing has to interfere with your free surfing. It's just that on that particular day, for the contest, you really have to get in tune. It’s a good experience for everyone. It's just one or two days, and I think it's time well spent.

Do you think the scene here in California has anything to offer the visiting pros, in terms of expanding their surfing?

Overall, things here may not be quite as advanced as Hawaii or Australia, but I think there are some really interesting aspects of California surfing, stuff that surfers from other places can pick up on, for sure. The world's best surfers would have been blown away to see guys riding fish boards in San Diego in the early '70s. Blown away. What David Nuuhiwa did on those boards was great, but the really specialized San Diego purists—those guys just perfected the art of fish riding. There was this little clique who did nothing but sit on the beach at this one spot all day, just studying and perfecting their technique. Those guys were more committed than any other surfers I've ever seen. In many ways, some of these locals weren’t too bright—in fact their trip was very narrow—but their surfing was brilliant. They had something to offer, whether they wanted to offer it or not.

Who are your favorite California surfers to shoot these days?

At the moment, I'd Chris O'Rourke from La Jolla. He's just a really advanced surfer, and he’s done it all without much outside help. Russ Short up in Oxnard is an excellent surfer, I wish I saw more of him. The fact that he surfs a very esoteric area that not many people visit makes it difficult to shoot him. But I saw Russ at the Katin contest, and he was exceptional. Mark Levy was really impressive at the Katin contest, too.

 magazine. Do you see any similarities between surfing and skating?

I got into skateboarding as an offshoot of surfing. In the early years, it was something very similar, motion-wise. Skateboarding never actually helped me to surf better, but it kept me in shape, and it was good to have something to do when the surf wasn't good. There's a lot of energy in skateboarding right now. It’s like being around when Nat Young and the Australians made their big play with short surfboards—there's that kind of energy now in skateboarding, and we're not even close to seeing the limits.

You've been hurt a few times taking photos, including a lot of head injuries. Is that mostly from putting yourself in tight spots?

Definitely. I have to admit that there’s a certain macho aspect to it. You're sort of the dodging the bull’s horns. It's intense. I've been told that I’m actually so focused while shooting from the water that I can be intimidating. That’s unfortunate, but it’s the only way that I can do it. It's just my way.

How is that different from other photographers?

It's like, I have a total appreciation of Steve Wilkings’ water photography; I think it's beautiful, and he's taken photos that say "surfing" to me, like his “Beauty and the Beast" mural. It’s not a hardcore action shot, but it just sparkles, it's a beautiful wave, a guy dropping in—that is surfing to me. You can draw your own line while looking at that photo; you can fantasize where you’d do your bottom turn, how you'd pull up into it. But, you know, everyone does it in their own way, and my way is to get close, to be there in the middle, to be right in the thick of it. That's what gets me stoked.

Just because of the kind of person that I am, I’m a very emotional person, very intense. I used to try and deny it, but I can’t, it’s just the way I am. I love real hard, and I hate real hard, and for better or worse, that’s the way I am. So along those lines, when I take surf photos, I want to get close. I have to. It's the only way I can do it, actually.

What are the frustrating parts, for you, about photography?

Everyone has their frustrations, I suppose. My main one these days is that while I love skateboarding, and I really want to help skateboarding grow, I see people realizing their potential as surf photographers while I'm just fighting to maintain. For example, I see Dan Merkel filming [for 

], and doing other stuff that I’d really like to do—but because of skateboarding, I don’t have the time. So that’s my main frustration: not being able to do all the things I'd like to do.

What's the biggest reward you get from surf photography?

Being out there when the sets start pumping, hitting the peak of the swell at the right spot with the right guys in the water. You forget everything. You're just so involved. I’ve been hurt before and not even known it because I was so excited. And there’s really nothing that matches that.

What about seeing the results later, when the film comes back?

That's great too, but at this point, as far as getting all the technical stuff right, I'm pretty secure in my ability to get the shot. I’m not surprised anymore if something comes out, put it that way. I usually know it’s gonna come out. When I click it, I basically know. So the rush, for me, is actually taking the photo.

Bill Hamilton. He’s a beautiful surfer; his riding is just so highly evolved . . . it's just the purest, most perfect dance I’ve ever seen, and I love it. Another one would be James Jones. I’ve been real lucky to see James at his best. I’ve seen him surf Number Threes, one of my all-time favorite places, and he was just insanely beautiful to watch—long, beautiful turns, with all the style, and all the arrogance, if you will, to pull it all off. Plus he's so versatile: frontside, backside, switchfoot, big waves, small waves. I like surfers who trim well, and James has incredible trimming knowledge. I don't think that really comes through in photos. It probably doesn't. I actually don't think my shots of James have ever really captured him very well. And one last favorite, one of the best of all time, a guy who took small-wave surfing to a level nobody had seen before—that's David Nuuhiwa. I just think David is the classic surfer. You know, he’s riding a longboard again these days, and he's just as good as ever.

Are there any surfers you haven't had an opportunity to photograph yet, and would like to?

Not really. Although there are people that I've shot but never really captured the essence of their surfing. You know, you find a lot of the greatest surfers are not all that photogenic. That, or they’ve passed the point of wanting to surf for photos. Skip Frye is one of those guys. I have the utmost respect for Skip as a human being and as a surfer, and although I have shot photos of him, I’ve never really captured his total presence on a wave.

If I could go back in time, I would've liked to shoot Phil Edwards. From everything I’ve seen and heard, he's the kind of surfer I would really appreciate. I like relaxed surfers, people that are just totally relaxed and powerful at the same time, and that was Phil.

One other person: Bob McTavish was the best surfer in the world for a while, and I think it’s a great loss to surf history that there was no photographer at Noosa Heads in the mid-’60s when Bob was at his best.

That would be during the first years of the shortboard?

No, earlier; just when the longboard were getting thinner, but before they went short. All those guys at Noosa were developing their surfing so fast, on those incredibly point waves. And there was no one to take photos.

Subscribe or Login

Encyclopedia of Surfing

History of Surfing

Interviews

Features

The Sunday Joint

Contests