Few families have the surfng lineage of the Adler/Gudenswager tribe. It begins with Frank Adler, a contemporary of Snowy McAllister, who hit his prime riding 16ft toothpicks, veers off to Frank's son-in-law Ken Gudenswager who in the 60s ran the most modern surfboard factory on the coast, branches out to Chris 'Swag' Gudenswager, 80s hot rat and fashion model (sorry Swag), and ends with the green sprout of Jye 'Gen4' Gudenswager, shaper to the latest wave of Cooly talent.

It's a Grand Oak of a tree (though Moreton Bay Fig might be more fitting) with a rich surfing history entwined within it.

Partly inspired by a forum thread on Swellnet, Swag has set about documenting his family history in print. The result is 'So you wanna be a surfer?', twenty five stories that span four generations of Australian surfing, though there's a focus on Swag's time in the sun: the Gold Coast through the 70s and 80s, the place and its inhabitants.

With that in mind here's one of Swag's stories from that time: Kirra 1985, fifteen years before the sand pumping, and smack bang in the middle of an incredible run of swell...

Growing up, we’d always studied Wayne Deane in and out of the water. He was Coolangatta’s big wave guy and while other surf stars around town were sometimes away at a surf contest while a big swell was pumpin’, Deaney was there every time. We could always depend on a good show when he turned up. We’d study the way he got in and out of the Tweed Bar on his solo missions - two kilometres out to sea, would you believe. And if anyone knows the Tweed Bar they’ll know what a tremendous feat that is, especially in a high swell. Even the local boats won’t risk it.

We’d study the way Deaney jumped off the big groyne at Kirra in between set waves and just make it through, then spin around and catch the next wave straight into the barrel. We were in awe of his talent and he was always quite approachable, willing to pass on his knowledge to us young guys, especially when he became our Snapper Club President.

Wayne Deane, Kirra

While sharing a flat with Snapper team mate Todd Lee at the top of Boundary Street on the New South Wales side of the border, we leave our abode and end up in the middle of an incredible run of swell that culminated in the best surfers from all the best breaks along the Australian coastline meeting at Kirra, the last place handling the big swell. Large crowds were watching from the foreshore as an impressive crowd of surfers attempted to take on the pits. Cronulla’s Jim Banks, Maroubra’s Greg Day, Bondi’s Richard Cram - you name it, they were here mixing it with the best riders Queensland had to offer.

You could take the big run halfway up to Greenmount Point to paddle out, but as always, conditions like this meant there were line ups on the end of the big groyne, all the hopefuls waiting to jump off at the best possible time. Normally there’s a lineup of six or eight riders at the best of times, but on occasions like this, these numbers can reach from thirty to fifty and the bods clog up the end of the rock wall with their indecision and fear, making it virtually impossible to enter the line up. Especially when a daringly quick jump-off had to be negotiated, then executed right so you don’t die.

When the end of the big groyne became clogged with surfers waiting to jump, all hesitating, deciding, considering the risks, Wayne Deane would hop, skip, and jump around the outside of the line to the very end of the groyne and jump off perfectly in-between the crunching eight foot set waves and make it out while the others were still thinking about it. They watched in awe and anxiety at the very ballsy stuff Deaney displayed but didn’t dare to copy.

Autumn '85. Classic old-style Kirra with deep lines of swell breaking along the rocks

So this day it’s all happenin’ at Kirra and I’m runnin’ to the back of the line up to jump off the big groyne after already having a couple of blinding set waves and I’m thinkin’ to myself: There’s no way I’m waiting in this line up. Today’s the day. I’m doin’ a Deaney trick off the end of the Groyne! and I look up, pick my time, make my decision and look back to see legend Aussie pro Richard Cram looking my way with this 'what-the-hell-do-you-think-you’re-doing-mate' expression. I giggle inside like only a smart arse local can and look forward to my goal spotting what I think is a gap to heaven. I bound the fifteen yards ahead and jump down onto what I think is Deaney’s rock and get in the jump off position with about three seconds leeway before it’s time to move.

In those three seconds, the surf god Huey had other ideas and the wave jacked about five feet. Suddenly what I thought I was jumping over now looks like I have to jump through.

I take one quick look over my shoulder to see Richard Cram standing up on the rocks with a merciless smile on his face and I turn around, grit my teeth and jump into the wall of whitewater like a crash test dummy, smashing into the end of the groyne. It slams me back against the first rock, down onto the second and then across some barnacles onto a third and my legrope snaps. My board is blown clear and I get to my feet instantly, jump off the rock onto my floating board as the next wave hits, which somehow pushes me up and over to the side of the rocks, exploding me into safety in the whitewater. I look up and Crammy is shaking his head and I know what he’s thinkin’: Who is this idiot?

I grab my board, try to paddle out but duly get wasted - washed 300 yards down the bank like a grommet and realise my hips are hurting like hell and my foot is incredibly sore, but no injury can compare to the bruising of my ego right then. But there is a consolation in that my board hasn’t got a scratch on it, just me and I consider this a surfer’s miracle! Bodies heal, boards just break! The current is running along the rocks past the viewing shed and along the rock wall, then into an eddy next to the cement steps that lead up to the front of the Pizza Hut car park and I try to make it onto the first step. It’s slimy, slippery and then bang! A wave comes from underneath, hits me with gusto force and deposits me unwillingly up on the fourth step fair square on my arse, with my board on top of my head, still in good nick. Fuck, I think to myself, what a pounding!

I sheepishly head over to Tweed Hospital for a friendly visit and get back home to the Boundary Street surf camp by midday. Tweed Hospital is conveniently situated not far from the beach and one would think it was put there for the surfing community, they certainly receive their share of patients with similar ‘hit the rocks’ stories. So with a bruised hip, bark off everywhere, a broken bone in my second toe, and ligament damage to my ankle, I head for home and hit the couch feeling incredibly sorry for myself. I can’t believe I’m out of the amazing swell I’ve been waiting for, and probably the next too, just because of one delusionary thought that I was Deaney.

Swag getting the better of Kirra, this time (Photo Bede/Brobes)

The boys are all having lunch at the surf camp and regrouping for the second session of the day when I hit the couch. They were ready to hit the swell hard and I was still feeling sorry for myself when someone pipes up and says, "Hey Swag, come down and sit on the bonnet of the car, grab a pen and we’ll get you a stopwatch. Once and for all we can settle the debate on who gets the longest barrels at Kirra!"

My ears prick up as I thought the idea was a doozy. "The challenge is on, boys!" I yell and with that, everyone was amping to the max and out the door. An hour later I’m mesmerised in the sun as I’m refereeing one of the best shows on earth. I’m bandaged, bleeding and sitting on the bonnet of an old HQ Holden with a cold XXXX beer and INXS playing on the radio as the best of the best start to do their thing and I’m watchin’.

Brendan Hatherly and Sean ‘Reg’ Riley start off proceedings with 14 and 12 second barrels respectively and Glenn ‘Henry’ Perry comes charging through multiple sections with just the nose of his board showing and disappearing - 16 seconds! Wayne Deane gets a 15 second barrel - followed up five minutes later by a 17 second barrel. So far he is in the lead and I’m on the case. Todd Lee enters the game with an 18 second cavern disappearing all the way from the takeoff, seeing the nose and his front arm across the shelter shed and not reappearing until the Pizza Hut. 18 seconds it is! Rabbit, Bruce Lee, Brett Hodge, Dave Bradbury, Paul Hopkins, Greg Faulks and David McDonald are all clocking in tube times of 15 to 20 seconds and then it happens.

The macca set of the day pours through about 3.30 in the afternoon and one or two guys caught the first couple of waves, but all this paled into insignificance when Todd Lee dropped into a seething eight foot banger out at the big groyne, bottom turns, sets his position and rides in the tube across the point, all the way to the little groyne for a 24 second time out. By now I had forgotten the pain, the blood and the embarrassment and the carpark was full of satisfied surfers, sipping beer and standing around to witness Todd’s epic barrel and he was cheered the whole way. To prove it really was a brilliant day, the 15 shot sequence appeared in the first ever issue of Australia's Surfing Life magazine.

Todd Lee riding his own board at Kirra - this is shot 13 of the sequence (Photo courtesy of Surfing Life magazine)

The next day was still pumpin’ though not quite as powerful as the afternoon before. My injuries have now taken hold, leaving me useless on the couch when Todd picks up his beautiful Wayne Deane Hot Buttered pintail that served him so well the afternoon before. I giggle from my horizontal position as I notice his fin dangling helplessly. When you wreck glass on fins, replacements take time and it would be at least a one day repair job to get it back to normal, so he wasn’t a happy chappy. My beautiful 6’3” Woody square tail thruster - shaped by Richard Wood - was standing in the corner feeling sorry for itself as it knew it wasn’t gonna be used again for at least four weeks and it was wastin’ away. Todd and I looked at each other at the same second, him smilin’ with the thought and the look on my face sort of saying, oh no you don’t buddy! Then he says, "Can I?"

I feel sorry for the board and answer reluctantly, "Yeah, go on." So he grabs my board and runs out the door before I could change my mind.

A couple of weeks later I was skateboarding past the newsagent in Boundary Street and a whistle from the owner inside caught my attention and he says to me, "Have a look at the first ever Australia Surfing Life magazine, Swag. Todd is on the cover, and inside with a 15 shot sequence." I grabbed the mag and looked at the cover shot of the magazine in total shock. Todd was on the cover alright, stuffed in a beautiful Kirra barrel on my board, displaying the big Billabong sticker across the nose. I laughed and thought to myself with a chuckle, this’ll be interesting, one of Mango’s top surfers promoting Billabong!

Australia's Surfing Life, Volume 1, Number 1 with Todd Lee at Kirra riding Swag's board (Photo courtesy of Surfing Life magazine)

I bought the magazine and bolted for home. Todd was in semi-shock for a while, pondering the possible ramifications of a cover shot with the opposition’s logo sprawled across the nose of the board under him, but he was very happy with the sequence shot inside, which stood to prove he was indeed that day - the ‘King of Kirra’.

Ironically, I received a quick pat on the back from my sponsors at Billabong for the shot, even though it was my board doing all the work, not me.

Life can certainly be jam-packed with irony – if it wasn’t for me trying to do a Deaney the day before and ending up useless, Todd definitely would not have ridden my board onto the cover of the magazine. Lucky for Todd, his sponsor Donnie Munro, owner of Mango, was a really great guy and didn’t care two hoots about the unprecedented exposure, he laughed and quoted the old adage: any publicity is good publicity!

// CHRIS 'SWAG' GUDENSWAGER

'So you wanna be a surfer?' is published by Swag Books. Click to purchase a copy.