Waterman
Woody Brown has died at age 96 in Hawaii. He'll be unknown to the public at large but to surfers he's one of three men in a photo that defined the sport:
Woody on the left, George Downing and Buzzy Trent charge 20-ft Makaha in 1953. This chance photo was published in the Honolulu papers and for some reason the novelty caused it to be picked up by the wire services and published around the world. For most newspaper readers it was like someone cliff-diving or driving in a demolition derby: what won't those fools try next?
For surfers, it was a signal event like Babe Ruth's "called shot" to baseball fans - a corner had been turned and the game was now different. Prior to this surfing generally meant letting a wave push your board directly to shore. A few guys had learned to turn the board into the wave so you could use the slope for a longer and faster ride. But really big waves remained off limits until surfers had developed the tools and skills to deal with them. Not a few died in the process.
In those surfing spots around the world where big waves were possible, the bar was lifted as to what constituted the pinnacle of the sport. Even as the sport changed over the years, with rad surfers and slashers gathering the money and the magazine articles, big-wave surfers remained a class by themselves. With the exception of Laird Hamilton most big-wave surfers remain unknown outside their circle of friends. Since it's a sport that depends on unpredictable circumstances, it's doesn't lend itself to TV. Since big-wave surfing takes place off beaches that don't tend to have hotels or tourist bars, it doesn't attract a following.
Even in eastern NC, where I first saw that photo framed above the cash register in Marsh's Surf Shop sometime in the middle '70s, it was electrifying. That was something I wanted to do. And I kept trying until I finally had a chance at a 15-ft day off Kitty Hawk in 1989 with my man man, Skip, in the after throes of Hurricane Juan. What I remember best was how eerily quiet it was on the outside line-up, and the crowd of people at Station One watching us.
The photo with his obit was described as "undated" but we can assume it was taken in a time before sponsor logos made surfboards look like NASCAR racers and the smiling surfer replaced by the scowling professional.
One other thing about Woody - among his five surviving children is a 20-year old son. Do the math.
Woody on the left, George Downing and Buzzy Trent charge 20-ft Makaha in 1953. This chance photo was published in the Honolulu papers and for some reason the novelty caused it to be picked up by the wire services and published around the world. For most newspaper readers it was like someone cliff-diving or driving in a demolition derby: what won't those fools try next?
For surfers, it was a signal event like Babe Ruth's "called shot" to baseball fans - a corner had been turned and the game was now different. Prior to this surfing generally meant letting a wave push your board directly to shore. A few guys had learned to turn the board into the wave so you could use the slope for a longer and faster ride. But really big waves remained off limits until surfers had developed the tools and skills to deal with them. Not a few died in the process.
In those surfing spots around the world where big waves were possible, the bar was lifted as to what constituted the pinnacle of the sport. Even as the sport changed over the years, with rad surfers and slashers gathering the money and the magazine articles, big-wave surfers remained a class by themselves. With the exception of Laird Hamilton most big-wave surfers remain unknown outside their circle of friends. Since it's a sport that depends on unpredictable circumstances, it's doesn't lend itself to TV. Since big-wave surfing takes place off beaches that don't tend to have hotels or tourist bars, it doesn't attract a following.
Even in eastern NC, where I first saw that photo framed above the cash register in Marsh's Surf Shop sometime in the middle '70s, it was electrifying. That was something I wanted to do. And I kept trying until I finally had a chance at a 15-ft day off Kitty Hawk in 1989 with my man man, Skip, in the after throes of Hurricane Juan. What I remember best was how eerily quiet it was on the outside line-up, and the crowd of people at Station One watching us.
The photo with his obit was described as "undated" but we can assume it was taken in a time before sponsor logos made surfboards look like NASCAR racers and the smiling surfer replaced by the scowling professional.
One other thing about Woody - among his five surviving children is a 20-year old son. Do the math.
posted by Strayhorn at 11:19 AM
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