Kevin Naughton and Craig Peterson chronicle their at an early stage '70s adendeavors with Mexico, Central America and beyond


*

Stokelore is a constant series, which functions some of the ideal writers in the sport celebrating and analyzing assorted facets of surf society, history and also take a trip. Check earlier on a regular basis for stories worth reading.

You are watching: In search of the perfect wave

For a long time at Tavarua, there sat behind the check-in desk, propped up versus the wall and half blocked by little stacks of paperwork-related, a foam-core blow-up of that December, 1984 Surfer magazine cover.


You understand the one. A guy with a very un-surfer choose head of trimmed, brown hair, wearing a pair of wildly snug, electric red trunks, literally thrusting a yellow thruster toward an supposedly perfect left-hander. Just probably, in a previous, unarisen frame, there was a glimpse of this surfer’s confront. But in the one that became legfinish, it is too late. One foot is currently clawing the rail of a battered ponga, the other on its tiptoes in mid-pounce. Everything around the cover argues the arrival of a new age — from the ’80s airbrush pattern on the red trunks to the thruster to that namemuch less wave, looking very a lot prefer a cloud, spinning emptily on the near horizon. “Discovery!” the cover blurb obviously reads.


Kevin Naughton, 1984, Cloudbreak. Photo: Craig Peterson


It was both cruel and fitting that the blow-up of this famous Surfer cover had been relegated to a slush pile of receipts, bills and also budgets documenting the millions — in dollars and dreams — it would inspire. What came after Craig Peterson’s 1984 photograph of Kevin Naughton leaping toward Cloudbreak was a different people, for both these two feral travelers and the sport — or spirituality, if you’re so inclined — of surfing altogether. That this blown-up cover sat among the refusage of an era of astounding capitalistic triumph, yet controlled to reprimary looming above it, was for all squaring up their bar tabs a neat metaphor — a subtle yet sturdy reminder that as soon as it involves surfing, the soul of adventurism will never die, nor the influence of that spirit’s stewards.

Itself, Peterson’s photograph of Naughton signaled the end of an age — their very own.

The Tavarua picture represented the orgasm of a decade-lengthy journey that began via a road expedition, from their hometowns in Oarray County, to Central America in 1973, as soon as Naughton and also Peterboy were in high institution. The travels that complied with, which extended from Latin America to Europe, Africa to the South Pacific, were immortalized in a handful of Surfer dispatches, composed interchangeably by Naughton and also Peterkid, in a gritty, unromantic pclimbed that snapped at the ankles of the muddled, mystical surf creating of the ’60s prefer a wiry young pit bull — choose the Tavarua picture snapped at the heals of a new age.

See more: Why Are Ancient Volcanic Ash Deposits Important To Geologists

In Search for the Perfect Wave, the first book of a three-volume collection, Naughton and Peterkid tear into their legendary decade of take a trip, this time via the advantage of hindsight. Of those years, they write: “We wanted to check out for brand-new waves, discover our very own spots, find beaches without one more surfboard in sight. This was the promise the seventies decade made to surfers that were willing to look past the world of Southern The golden state. And the civilization — starting via Mexico and also Central America — made great on that promise.”

Note: This post was initially published a few years back, yet we felt its quality made it worth resurencountering. And listed below, see photos from Kevin Naughton and Craig Peterson’s search for the perfect wave — all captions with quotes: Naughton and Peterboy.


“Waves have a way of making us all restless. Some of us acquire even more restmuch less than others, and so the search starts.”