The Dream Run: Greg Holzman’s Island Life
Some questions. Who are you, really? Where do you live? How do you make a living? What turns you on? What frightens you? What do you want from life and what would you sacrifice to get it? Write your answers down on a piece of paper and then, next to each answer, write down why. Take your time. Think about it. You might discover some surprising things about yourself.
If you’re a kneeboarder, you’ll have been asked “the question” by someone who’s not. There may be any number of glib retorts tossed off over a shoulder with a laugh, but the question of what keeps each individual kneeboarder surfing in a manner generally seen as archaic, curious or just plain weird, will always have a real answer, one that reveals something about our individuality. Sometimes the answer’s so simple that it needs no explanation. Then again, sometimes the simplest things can be the hardest to grasp. At the most basic level, human motivation has to do with need: food, shelter, belonging. Once needs are met, desire takes over. We become driven by our strongest desires. those to which we ascribe the most importance, and hence the most value. The profile you’re about to read is an object lesson in this principle and how it can shape a life.
Lately we’ve been exchanging emails with Greg Holzman. If the name’s familiar it’s because he’s the subject of a few drool-provoking photos published here over the last year or more. We’ve known about him for a long time, primarily through shaper and Hawaiian legend Bud McCray, but Greg’s something of an enigma, staying out of sight and quietly doing his thing. A fisherman by trade, Greg’s thing involves finding the best, biggest and emptiest waves he can sensibly contemplate, and riding them with rare style and grace. Here at Legless.TV we reckon that qualifies Greg as a genuine underground hero, though we suspect he’d probably be reluctant to describe himself in such terms. We’re not about to enter the debate about the merits or otherwise of the whole concept of “underground”: our job is simply to record and present to the world what is. Greg’s based on Kauai, the outermost island of the Hawaiian chain. We started by asking Greg for a little biographical background. Oh yeah: that’s us in italics, everything else is Greg.
My father’s family moved here before WWII, to Honolulu, but my dad met my mom in California, USA. I lived in La Jolla a few years and saw the Lis fish crew kneeboarding Big Rock and was sure that was the thing to do. Everyone on stand-ups was eating shit there and it was like a gladiator arena. Then I saw Greenough films in a movie theater in 71/72 - with the barrel shots. My Dad got me a G&S twin-fin fish and I brought it back to Hawaii when we moved to Kailua on Oahu. I remember it sucked, but it got me there. I was a kook for three years, from 12 to 15. I never did surf Big Rock, which was the goal when I started. But then in 1974, Local Motion opened the first surf shop in Kailua, and I was one of the first kneeboarders in there. They had a few nice 5’4” fish twins and I had some Christmas money. I bought a nice Robbie Burns (owner of Local Motion) shaped kneeboard. I took that board to Maui, where I went to 10th grade high school. I got kicked out for putting too much priority on surfing. I was devastated. I went to the school in the summer and begged them to take me back, but they said I wasn’t college material, which was true. I just loved the outer island life in the 70’s.
Outer Island life in the mid-70s can be seen in surf films of the day: Fluid Drive, 5 Summer Stories, A sea For Yourself. If you were a kid watching those movies in a rented hall somewhere that wasn’t Hawaii, the images of hollow waves in clear, warm water, white sand with palms swaying gently in perpetual offshores was almost too much to bear. Greg was living it.
It all really started when I was 15. I surfed Maalaea September 1974 and May 1975 with all the guys like Jeff Hakman, Reno Abillera, Sammy Hawk, Owl Chapman. It was like I was in a movie. Just the best swells ever, photos in all the magazines - historical stuff. That was my first real tube riding. I was 15 and I was in these big windy tunnels, trying to figure it out. There was no going back to “normal” pre-surf life after that. Later on I was scared out of my head some days at Specklesville and Hookipa Lanes. I would duck dive and the wave would just suck me back over as I was so light, but my Duck Feet fins just saved me time after time. I learned to love it, not fear it. By 17 I was in public high school – surfing, cutting class on Kona winds, riding Pipe and a place called North Beach on Kaneohe Marine base. We would sneak in early mornings and avoid the Military Police.
Military Police? Really?
Yeah. I became a master of deception. I got to know the kids on base and would take on their identity. While other surfers were getting busted, I was heading back to my friend’s house where the Mom would be super happy their kid had a friend off base. These kids were not popular at school! It all worked out and I became the kid that came into school at recess or lunch with wet hair and sandy feet and everyone wanted to know how the surf was. That’s where I learned to enjoy surfing by myself. It was cool, and I knew I was a lucky kid who had broken the code. I remember more than once being woken in period 6 by my history teacher all worried I wasn’t getting enough sleep at night, when it was actually I was up before dawn, on my bike through the back of the military range with a flashlight … and then riding to school for my 25 cent taco lunch and 5th and 6th period. I’m not sure how I graduated but I did.
I became good friends with Buzzy Kerbox, as I was roommates with his girlfriend. We surfed the North Shore a lot through the winter of 78/79. He got me in the know with Pat Rawson, who shaped his boards. Pat made me a few boards and I surfed Pipeline a bunch with Buzzy. He was on a roll with big wins and it was an interesting time, but I knew it wasn’t going to last. The North Shore was getting very popular and my secret spot at Kaneohe Marine Base was now too risky to sneak on - I had turned 18 and could be arrested and thrown in jail. Something had to change. I got a newspaper, looking at outer island jobs, since I was thinking of going back to Maui. I saw a job for a cook on Kauai. I watched that ad change and the salary get better and then one day my friend and I were with our girlfriends and I just told him “I’m calling these guys up”. Our girlfriends thought we were kidding but the chefs were desperate. They said they would pay our way over to check it out. I was 19 and thought I’d just go for the ride. I ended up with a company truck and a condo and my first strike mission. Our girlfriends were just shocked! I told my mom after a month she would have to come to Kauai if she wanted to see me because I was staying for good. It was heaven - even the military base let us on, no sneaking - and the waves were epic. After a year I bought a Jeep and my life was as good as it gets. Everyone worked in the restaurants at night and surfed in the mornings. It was a big party. We all knew we were in the best place in the USA. Nobody wanted to expose it. Photos were not a thing, but a few came up from time to time and as the years have gone by, they’re now showing up.
Then Hurricane Iwa came in November 1982.
The last storm of the 1982 hurricane season, Iwa struck Kauai hard, with winds of up to 193 kmh, massive swells and storm surge. Hundreds were left homeless, schools were closed indefinitely and President Reagan declared the island a disaster area. Greg was living in a beach house and when the eye passed over, escaped to a friend’s house inland with just two boards and the clothes he was wearing.
Everything changed after that. Many surfers became construction workers and many got serious about life and money. The age of innocent fun was being tested. Restaurants were closed for half a year. I tried the construction stuff, but I couldn’t work in the day. I had always worked nights and surfed days. It just felt wrong. A friend had a boat and took me fishing. First time out, we caught so many fish. In the morning we brought them in, got a slip in the butcher shop and then we went to the cashier at the grocery store and she gave us money ... wow that was different! I was always giving her my money for food. I thought - this is something I can do on the ocean: work a few days and make as much as I normally do in two weeks ... I got to get me a boat! I learned everything I could from this guy, who was a tough old fisherman: it was all in my plan that I was going to get my own boat!
But things were tough and housing became an issue. I was homeless by 1983 but eventually I managed to find a house on the westside of Kauai. It was three bedrooms for $275 a month. So cheap! I got a roommate and life became pretty easy. I was fishing about 10 days a month and banking money while surfing the rest of the time. Life was cheap and the waves were good. I had decided I would get a boat and I was ready. My first boat was a disaster – a 50 ft wooden boat that had little chance of getting a slip in the harbor. I found a mooring I could lease in Nawilliwilli harbor and kept her there. March 1984, she sank trying to deal with a 24-day storm. I woke up to the Coast Guard saying my boat was on the rocks and I needed to get the fuel off before the tank ruptured and I was in real trouble. That was a lot of work, but lucky for me because that boat would have killed me if it hadn’t sunk. At $10,000 and a year of my dedication it was the school of hard knocks, but it made me learn what I needed to find and how much I was going to have to save to get it. It took me 5 years, but I finally bought a 26’ Radon hull from Santa Barbara Ca. - an all fiberglass trailerable boat I could leave at my house. I still have it. That boat has been my golden goose for 35 years. Although I’m presently not fishing a lot as I’m focused on surfing, I assume one day I will go again. It’s ready when I need it.
With the purchase of his own boat, Greg became able to finetune the way he structured fishing around surfing. The state of Hawaii officially recognises 137 separate islands, but there are many more, many so small they’re not marked on charts. On one of these, Greg had found good waves … and he began to surf them.
I wanted to surf and fish in areas of Hawaii few knew of, so I became a solo bottom fisherman. In Hawaii, that means mainly deep sea vertical long line fishing with targeted hooks in deep-water, anchoring in 400 to 1200 ft of water on deep drop offs and seamounts. I was good at this - surfing and this style of fishing help each other. I became familiar with every sea condition: I’ve been anchored and fished in water that was plain scary. Fishing certainly helped me understand the sea. Like all my endeavours, I took it to the limit. I became the best and it all came from my desire to surf an uncharted island, a place which I shared but never would photograph. Its Hawaiian name is Wai Uliuli or “blue blue water”. I lived for that and made my fishing an excuse to get to that place. It really only got good on high surf warnings, so it was not for the meek. I was often solo surfing or with a friend or single crew member. Mostly I surfed it alone, and it became a spiritual thing which made me comfortable in heavy water. This spot needs a specific swell direction to work well, and of course the right winds. It was always empty. One time the waves got so big I was forced to spend the night on the beach, digging a hole in the sand and using my board as a blanket. Luckily my crew was able to pull anchor and re-set in deeper water. The waves just rose so quick I couldn’t get back out to the boat. After that I was determined to bury water and supplies on the beach to make sure that if it happened again, I was going to be OK. I was sure to be prepared next time. I promised never to take photos or bring cameras and to this day, few exist from my trips. I was offered big money to get the shots, but I never wanted anything to do with exploiting a place I considered - and still do - sacred and holy. Many friends have been, but never a camera. Of course, this was all before iPhones.
To Greg, the years from 1983 to 1992 were golden. Great boards, great waves, making a good living from the ocean, travel: he was living a dream life. Bud McCray was a big part of it.
It was 1983 when I met Buddy McCray. My younger brother Pat was also a kneeboarder, following me into it. Pat lived on Oahu and he met Buddy in the surf. Buddy missed nothing and was quick to come over to Kauai that summer, and he brought a board for me. He recognized that I was willing to test anything, so he sent boards over and I would just give him feedback. His boards got better and better. Sometimes I didn’t like them, but he would tell me to keep trying and many times they did get better, but for me, I kept getting more into the basic no wing, no channel, short fish. I tried pins and squaretails, but it was the basic 5’6” flat bottom Vee that did it for me. In the early ‘80’s surfers were having issues with large waves. I was able to sit inside of them and often catch the sets, because they were constantly under-gunned, but my fins and low center of gravity allowed me in easy. Buddy had me sold pretty quickly on the four-fin set up and by ‘84 things were full tilt. Buddy came over to Kauai regularly the next few years and brought various kneeboarders with him, including Albert Whiteman and an 18-year-old Simon Farrer. Buddy had great timing and we just surfed so much! Every time he came the waves were good. In 1987 he decided to take Lee Pattison, Mike McGuire and myself to G-land. Buddy was well known in every corner of the world by then, but it was my first trip. Bobby Radiasa had been to Hawaii and stayed with Buddy, so we were treated very well. It was a special time to be there, as many know - that first trip was so eye-opening. Before that, I didn’t feel I needed to go anywhere, but after, I knew the best waves in the world were not in Hawaii: for consistent offshore long-period single swell events, it was all happening in Indonesia. Once again Buddy had sent me to the happiest place on earth, with three new boards and a surf camp owner who made sure we were taken care of. Anyone who was there will agree it was one of the best times in the history of surfing.
Greg went back to G-land again for 6 weeks the following year. On his way home he stopped in at the Sari Club in Kuta, where he met Mary, a sweet Californian girl who also surfed – well, of course. Her trip home included a stopover in Hawaii, where Greg showed her around. They had a great time surfing big waves together. Thus began a union that eventually brought them three children. In 1989 Greg travelled to Jeffreys Bay with Buddy McCray, and in 1991 he went again, and found more than just waves.
The waves reminded me of home - cold offshores in midwinter, storms hammering the coast and filtering down to a sweeping right: I loved South Africa. I found a plant group - Cycads - that fascinated me. I was lucky enough to be brought in by some great experts in the Cape, who also liked seashells, which I was collecting in Hawaii. With a bit of horse trading I was taught about these plants, taken into habitat a few years later as a research assistant for the National Botanical Garden and shown around the country by Nature Conservation officers. This began a 30-year love affair and the beginnings of my own Cycad nursery which today allows me to fund my surfing obsession. This wasn’t always the plan, but I also played a huge role in the study of many newly discovered Cycad species in Panama. I helped in collecting and working to help people better understand this important ancient plant family, the oldest continual seed-bearing plants on earth. Over 200 million years! Cycads live for hundreds of years and are extremely valuable. They’re threatened with extinction in South Africa from poaching. They are living art and I wanted to help by competing against the black market by growing Cycads from seeds I produced over 20 years: they grow 10 times faster in Hawaii. It may be the romantic idea of a 30-year-old dreamer, but I achieved a lot.
Greg’s wife, Mary, had formerly been a competitive swimmer, so it was natural for their three kids to follow suit, at least for a while. Their eldest, Matthew, retained enough competitive drive from all those junior swim meets to become a pro body boarder, but there’s a fair bit of the old man in him.
Matt loves to kneeboard when the surf isn’t crazy. He was charging huge Pipe at 17 and got waves in contests that made me live another aspect of surfing - that’s vicariously through your kids’ performance. Sean was less competitive, not wanting to have to live in his brother’s shadow, so he became an amazing diver who took on my love of the hunt. From boars to deep-dive spear fishing, he was leading his peer group, so they both had few problems fitting into this racially diverse island life.
Greg’s daughter is now 15 and can surf, but her Dad reckons she’s become a bit of a landlubber and isn’t getting out in the water. He’s hoping that will change. After all, Greg had a period away from surfing himself not so long ago. He and Mary divorced in 2012, He had been feeling pretty jaded with the surf scene - jet skis and egos and social media, and by the 2013-14 season, Greg stopped surfing altogether - for the first time in his life.
I quit cold turkey, Greg Noll style. I tried to play tennis for 2013/14 and just concentrated on my kids. Finally, I realized I hated competing. Tennis is usually a very competitive game, and I love watching and coaching competition, but after two seasons it was clear that tennis didn’t cut it in the adrenalin area. Times were changing in Kauai surfing again - times are always changing! By 2015, life was expensive and hard for young families, which got a lot of guys in that 30-something age having to work more. My life was getting cheaper and the kids didn’t need me as much, so I began to surf full time and fish less. The winter of 2015-16 was an amazing season which ended with a bang - double late West swells in April. Buddy had made me a board a year earlier and it worked amazing. The foam was different, but the board’s flex made it magic. I could feel that flex and the thinner board flew in 10ft plus Hawaiian power. I never looked back. When those West swells came in, I was surfing so well I just didn’t want it to end. Buddy made me two new boards and by May I was dying to try them out, so I headed to Kandui and quickly realized that this surf traveling was the greatest feeling of all. With the high-tech forecasts and Facebook etc ... strike missions could become a lifestyle.
Greg has seen a lot change in surfing over the span of his life. From starting out at a time when the introduction of legropes caused major schisms in surfing circles, he has witnessed the birth of professional surfing, the transformation of backyard businesses into international brands, the growth of surf tourism, the age of the sponsored free-surfer and the expansion of surfing into its various power-assisted and highly specialised genres and sub-genres. Just as the humble legrope unexpectedly brought about a fundamental shift in how and where we surf, new pressures and new technology have expanded the scope of surfing and changed how and where we surf yet again. We talked a little about the way things are now.
The IT revolution, with the advent of smartphones, social media and instant global communication, has been felt world-wide - Kauai is no exception – and short of the collapse of western civilization, there’s no going back to a time before. The local Kauai policy of no photos, no publicity may have been enforceable in the 70s and 80s, but in the 21st century, exposure is inevitable, and it seems that’s especially so if it’s unwanted.
Yes. The trouble today is that nothing happens without photographic evidence and pictures tell a thousand words. I’m less affected by this on the road, but I tend to be pretty quiet about my backyard. Though it affects me less now. I’m finding that the standard surfers’ taste in waves and priorities can rapidly change, especially if a few friends find it the place to be. Every year is different. Sandbars, swell direction, winds – they all seem to run in groups that will send surfers from one place to another, chasing the in-vogue spots of the moment.
On Kauai we have serious issues with the use of jet skis during High Surf events. It can be a real issue. Because of our round island, the swells can wrap which - means a lot of the jet-skis end up tow surfing the same waves 50 paddle surfers are riding. An example is a place I surfed for 25 years without a ski around. It’s much like Kirra, with a strong sweep, long walks up the point and long paddles. Now I can’t surf there. It’s just too much a scene. I’ve had waves that I was on and in the barrel and 100 yards down the beach a jet-ski goes and U-turns to swing a guy in. Well, I have ridden right up to the wall of water from their tow-in turn. Hitting water that fast inside big barrels leads to bashings on my back on the bottom. Complete floggings. I have never surfed there again with skis out. Don’t get me wrong. I love tow-ins in the right big-wave situations. I have towed in on days surfers are not out on outer reefs. That’s a different animal, but jet-skis and paddle surfing are not compatible. It’s a complete change in vibe and the tow guys never get less greedy, it’s always more, more, more. I’ve spent a long time campaigning for issues in my surfing on Kauai. From military beach access after 9-11 to Anti-Federal Marine Sanctuary expansions to advocating for jet-ski enforcement in surf areas. The threats continue to grow.
Part two coming soon.
Words: Rob Harwood (legless.tv wordsmith)
Images supplied by Greg