#greg holzman

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The Dream Run: Greg Holzman’s Island Life

Part 2.

If you were born before the last twenty years of the 20th century you’re able to grasp how much new technology and cheap air travel have changed the world and the way we live in it: profound changes that have touched every aspect of our lives. Surfing has always required commitment to the pursuit of good waves, but the nature and depth of that commitment has morphed and grown. Greg joked with us about one of the photos he sent us - him perfectly framed in the spiralling mouth of a smooth and luminous barrel - saying it was “nothing money can’t buy”. He’s right of course, but money’s only part of it – to experience the kind of nirvana we glimpse in shots like that requires planning, preparation of equipment, logistics, lots of water-time and perhaps more than anything, fitness. Add to this the fact that as a self-employed fisherman, when Greg’s not working, he’s not earning. Sponsors? Well, he gets a few boards from Buddy McCray. His logistical team is a loose network of local contacts he’s developed to facilitate the various resources and services inevitably required at short notice in out of the way places. Greg’s strike missions are conceived, organised, funded and executed autonomously: it’s all his own experience, knowledge, time and money. There are few among us able to shut up shop and disappear, possibly for months at a time, living self-sufficiently on the road, chasing the chance of finding a particular spot firing for a limited time. You may plan for a road trip or a boat trip, but Greg’s is commitment on a whole other level. Access to technology is one thing, knowing how to put it to best use is a skill acquired over time. Greg’s background in fishing has been a huge help in interpreting long-range weather forecasts, weather maps, charts of out of the way places: all key factors in his ability to score quality waves. Help and advice from fellow travellers, including a smattering of kneeboard surfers spread around the globe. Behind all this though, remain two things. One is what started it all going more than half a lifetime ago in San Diego: an irrepressible drive to ride big, challenging, high quality waves. The other is what drove Greg to leave Oahu for the outer islands in the late 70’s: the drive to explore the outermost limits of his ability on his own, away from the crowd. While there are plenty of pro and semi-pro freesurfing footboarders criss-crossing the globe at any given time, each with a Youtube channel and an Instagram account, it’s kind of nice to know that kneeboard surfing has Greg Holzman out there pushing the limits of what’s been done and pushing the rest of us to step up our game and look beyond our comfort zone.

Greg views his big wave pursuits as “strike missions”. Track a swell, find a spot, check wind and tide permutations, airlines, local travel, accommodation, be ready to go at the drop of a hat, and be prepared to surf at 100% when you get there. He’s been doing this for about 40 years, perhaps with increasing sophistication and expertise, but that’s the only change. We received an email just after Christmas.

 “So for fear of more words I’ll give you the story of my first solo big wave venture. It was at Pipeline. 1978. It was a giant West swell. Surf reports weren’t accurate back then but looking out I could see it was nice East winds in Kailua and I knew a big West swell was pumping. I was all about Pipeline at the end of my Oahu period so I felt very comfortable out there.  

I surfed with the heavies of the day, so I was pushing my limits. Driving up Kam Highway, the hour it took really got the heart pumping, especially when I hit Indicators reef and saw how big it was. More often than not, the swell was huge instead of too small, but in the 70’s no-one knew how big till you got there. When I got to Ehukai Beach Park I saw no-one out, perfect offshores and third reef sets at 20ft Hawaiian. Some amazing waves but I wasn’t sure I was ready for that!

Jack Lindholm was headed out on his bodyboard. I watched him catch a few incredible rides that got me stoked. The Second reef was capping hard and seemed like easy take-offs, but that was Jack on a bodyboard and he could take off later than anyone at the time.

I remember he didn’t make it out of a tube on one and came up the beach with his board almost torn in half.  I didn’t know him but commented on his board. He said he was going to change boards and go back out so I told him I would get ready and meet him out there. As I walked down to the beach I saw Sam Hawk paddle out, headed to the peaks at outside Log Cabins. I never saw Sammy again. Obviously, he lived, but that was all I saw of him as it was soon after this that I moved to Kauai.  

Anyway, I paddled out. It wasn’t that hard; in fact it was really easy with the channel and a big West swell. Everyone was at Waimea Bay - for good reason. When I got out, I remember seeing the sets on the outer reefs break a minute or two before they hit us. What I remember most was how hard it was to catch those monsters on my 5’2” twin fin fish. The waves had a deep-water slope to them, and you had to take off as the wave was breaking. Jack had it down and before too long he was gone. I never saw Jack again either.  So here I am and all I’m seeing is giant lines - just like the movies - and I’m getting further and further from shore. I’m thinking that I may need to get rescued and wondering if anyone’s watching in the lifeguard tower. I thought how embarrassing that would be and decided I needed to move inside and catch one underneath or I was not going to get in. Paddling in was a death sentence and it was obviously on the rise, so in between sets I paddled inside.  When a set approached EVERYTHING in me said “move outside NOW”, but I waited. I thought if I didn’t catch that first one I was getting to that beach dead or alive.  Luckily, I made the right call and that first wave was deep and inside and an easy take-off.  In fact, I commented to myself on how easy it was, really.  Once it hit that first reef I just sat there in this big easy barrel - no fear anymore - and the wave was just as perfect and easy a wave as I could get. It spit and I glided out onto the shoulder. I looked out thinking “I can do that again” when … the whole channel was closing out. I immediately turned for shore, just in time to see it turn to close-out sets.  When I got there I heard the hoots and claps of tourists cheering. I had survived my first solo big wave event. It scared me but I never felt more alive and I never forgot it. Just like many firsts, they are worth remembering.”

 So, fast forward to 2016, with Greg’s island life undergoing change, and another dream run about to start. While in Kandui in May that year, Greg picked up a Facebook friend request from Paul Macklin, an Aussie traveller who for years had sent him photos of his surf travels. Paul was then living in Bali. Greg decided he needed to return to G-land, so in July he left for Bobby’s Camp.

 Paul met me in the camp. Bobby Radiasa remembered me - it was like I had never left. All the same guys. Many had gone back every year I was gone. Having that family vibe in camp is a very addictive feeling and Facebook has kept us all back in contact. So, 2018 became the thirty-year reunion for me and G-land. I had three trips in 2018 looking for the gold standard G-land of June - July 2016 that was still the three swells of recent memory.  I got amazing waves, but that massive perfect Speed Reef (which rarely happens) eluded me. After seeing the photos of those days I swore I was investing in this as a goal: to get it at its best. I didn’t care how many trips it would take.

 After G-land in July 2017, I was off to South Africa: from Bali to J-bay.  I worried about the cold, coming straight from the tropics, and I did freeze, but I learned a few tricks there as well on staying warm - including a 1mm wetsuit top under my clothes - that let no cold air in on those freezing surf checks!  That’s where I met Gigs and Stevo. I stayed with Mike Ruthnum, who I’m indebted to for introducing me to great people, fellow KB riders, and secret surf spots that I will always remember. J-bay was an eye-opener. Much had changed there. Crowds were always a factor, but the town had a great vibe. The South Africans have all the forecasting at their fingertips now, so they come from around the country for the bigger swells, which I found different than the 80’s. But with that came KB riders. I found a very cool group of fellow riders who were happy, very much a club feeling, and with a wide range of boards ... it was an impressive group. I came home knowing that I would return next season. A month is not enough time in Africa. But as soon as I got home, I saw $500 tickets return to Bali. I knew Gigs was going and Simon Farrer - who I hadn’t seen since he was 18 on my island with Buddy - was meeting Gigs at G-land. Simon was already a phenomenon at 18. Seeing his movies made me want to spend time with these two world champs. So back I went for more.

 That took me right into the 2018-19 season with a passion for strike missions. I managed to strike a few Pacific spots early 2019 during Hawaii’s stormy moments. Each time selling more plants and looking: as soon as it was a good moment and I had cash I was going - sometimes with less than 8 hours to pack and be at the airport. I was on call for G-land when I saw a series of swells and good winds lining up. I told myself I wasn’t going to plan in advance for Indo anymore. My goal was one which wouldn’t end till I caught that 2016 Gold standard swell. Lucky for me it came on a day that looked like it wasn’t going to happen. The surf was huge and the direction was good with a high tide, but the wind was light onshore. I was pretty bummed when I saw the rain at 9 am, (not usually a good sign) but it passed quickly. All the guys went in. I knew the winds were changing with that sound the bamboo makes and quickly suited up. I got down to the beach and Donny the photographer said to hop on his bike. Blacky and he were headed out on the boat to take photos. I knew it was good and a heavy paddle out, so off we went. As soon as we neared it, we saw this was no normal day. When you see the photographer and boat driver pounding the boat and cheering like they were you know it’s not a normal day. Two guys were out, but they wanted nothing to do with those sets. My heart was pounding hard. I knew this was going to be a test - of all I had learned to stay safe, and the test of my equipment I so badly wanted.

What made it even better was my photographer was right on it with me to document.  I paddled out to an empty lineup and two guys who just paddled over the sets. It was destiny, fate, or just plain perseverance.

I learned a lot: about my boards, my goals and how hard it is to drive through those shock waves deep in barrels when it’s like that. I could see that what I needed was a board with the fins further back for stability as one bottom turn is all you get and then you’re behind and flying. Some I made, some I should have made, and others were just plain heavy. The crowd eventually showed up and the tide went out. One of the biggest problems with this kind of swell is it’s only good at high tide for a maximum of 4 hours. Usually only about 2 to 3 hours at its best.  That’s a lot of investment for such a short window. For me it was worth it. It taught me I could still do it and what my boards needed next mission to maximize my tube time. 

 It’s obvious that there’s a lot more to surf exploration at this level than meets the eye. A lifetime of preparation and expense may seem a high price to pay for memories - a few photos and stories representing the sole concrete evidence of mere minutes spent riding perfect surf - but to Greg, as for anyone else doing what he does, it’s not about money.

 I’ve done 12 trips in three years and surfed Hawaii winters every swell I can in between. I’ve gone to 5 destinations and gone back to each - if I can - till I am satisfied I’ve caught it at its best. I feel I have only really achieved that this year (2019) at G land, which is lucky because next year isn’t going to be the year - with the WSL going off there in the middle of the season.

 In Hawaii we take surfing very seriously. It has changed from when I started, Then, it was much more about the soul surfer and not publicizing where you went and not photographing your sessions. It wasn’t for money either. Now, everyone thinks they can get a free something if they’re good. It’s competitive and I try to remain in a collaborative mind-space. I have found it’s probably a help that I am a KB rider because we’re always trying to prove we belong in the lineup. At this point I rarely feel I can’t deal with things in a lineup, but often I know the fight isn’t worth the effort. I’ll voluntarily move out of the space as I don’t like catching scraps. If I have no chance for the sets, I’ll remove myself from the situation to save myself from certain mental crisis. Or a yelling match. This happened a few times at Jeffreys this year and in September 2018 at G-land with 80 guys in the water. Everyone - even your friends - are on a different level and chances are you’re not going to like what you see, so I’m out at that point.

Knowing how much effort went into getting himself into the line-up for those sessions, that’s a pretty big statement, one that we might all be wise to keep in mind every time we paddle out.  

Words - Rob Harwood - Legless.tv

Photos: Donny Lopez, John Barber & Courtesy of Greg Holzman

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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