“Plastic Classic,” by Walt Phillips, 

Leaving the airport, the traffic thins down as you head for the country. Relaxation renews your body as you put behind the hustles, the hassles, and the things meaningless and inane. Out to the Country. A release from the accelerated, stepped up, stepped on, purposeless society of middle-class materialism.

Cruising along you can feel the warmth in the air and smell the sweetness and scent of pineapple. Looking up you are able to see the whitest of clouds set against the bluest of skies. Everywhere there is the beautiful green of living, growing life.

Relaxing, looking and thinking, Why does anyone ever leave here? Why go back to the ever running, hurry-up-or-you-won’t-make-it culture? Why leave paradise? All along knowing the answer . . . money, in order to live. It’s a vicious circle, and it seems that surfing is caught in the very same paradox.

Driving up to Sunset Beach, the rows of parked cars jerk you back to reality. The fifth Annual Duke Kahanamoku Surfing Classic is about to begin.

Could this be the beginning of a new era for surfing? Will this be the first of 13 televised contests that will bring professionalism and money to the surfing world?

Last year we listened to Larry Lindberg outline the way for surfing professionalism. It was impressive. The Duke this year would be the proving ground. Surfers from everywhere are hopefully expecting the best as the ABC's 

Walking through the ready area—a collage of sights and sounds. Bobby Cloutier gestures out to sea and complains, “On a normal day we wouldn’t surf in 

A heavy set moves in from the north, surfers outside are scrambling. Jock walks by rubbing his stomach, “Ate lots of oatmeal for breakfast, a good glucose coating for the stomach.”

Keith, Jock, Billy, and Clyde Aikau put the question to Russ Tanaka, one of the judges: “Couldn’t we wait for a better day?”

“First heat to the ready area,” is Fred Van Dyke's answer.

During the briefing for the first heat Keith Paull asks Fred, “What are they judging on, size or performance?”

“The judges are looking for positioning,” says Fred, then continues with the briefing. “The top three out of each of the three prelim heats will advance to the final.”

Lindberg walks over. “Fred, move them into the sunlight for the cameras.”

The first heat paddles out. Reno gets caught by a set trying to paddle out off the point. He’s late getting to the line-up.

The first wave surfed in this year's Duke contest is by Ryan Dotson, who aggressively works his way in and out of the pocket. Felipe Pomar gets on the next, makes a couple of large, tricky sections and then loses his board. Then Keith Paull drops in and straightens off into a mountain of white water.

Ben Aipa drops makes a vertical late takeoff, can’t find a shoulder, and straightens off. Diffenderfer walks by on the beach shaking his head.

Ryan Dotson boogies down the face of a good-sized wave into a powerful bottom turn and gets one of the best rides so far. Keith, looking good, cuts back nicely. Dick Brewer takes off—he’s one of the lifeguards—and gets a nice wave until the inside section crunches him. Who’s going to rescue the rescuer? Then more sectioning waves and the wind continues to blow.

Charlie Galento sits, watches, and twiddles his thumbs. Keith and Reno drop in—no chance—fifty yards of white water out in front of them. Both lose their boards. Keith comes in and gets another stick.

Rolf "Avocado" Aurness comes strolling loose-jointedly up on the lawn and stands next to Brad McCaul. “Are you going to go left Rolf?” asks Brad. Shaking his head, Rolf replies, “Naaah." Then, "Look at Baxter rip,” as Jackie gets a good long inside section.

The horn signals the end of the first heat.

“I’d like them to call it off right now,” says Billy Hamilton as he picks up his board and heads out to join the second heat paddling out.

Keith Paull, just in from the first heat, erases any hopes there may have been. “It’s actually worse than it looks out there.” Midget, standing with his wife and little girl, watches the contest and waits for his heat “This isn't a very good contest," he says. "This is like bad Santa Cruz, yet they are holding it anyway. The contest organizers have no empathy for the surfers. They’ve lost touch. We wouldn’t normally go out on a day like this. It’s just the lack of surfers running the contest.”

Billy Hamilton drops into a good-sized wave, working his way around the sections. The crowd yells and claps as he disappears from sight inside a watery tunnel.

Over the PA they announce the winners of the first heat: “In first place, Paul Strauch; second, Felipe Pomar; and in third, Eddie Aikau.”

It went on through the day; the surf losing ground all the way but still contestable for the Duke—at least according to the contest officials.

As decided by head judge Wally Froiseth, along with fellow judges Russ Tanaka and Dougie Forbes, the finalists for the next day are Joey Cabell, Paul Strauch, Eddie Aikau, Rolf Aurness, Mike Doyle, Fred Hemmings, Felipe Pomar, Gordo Barreda, and Billy Hamilton.

The next day is Sunday. They wait. The sun isn’t out, and the surf isn’t good. Then Kimo McVay shows up with the checks. Money for the top four finishers.

Finally, the sun comes out and the surf improves a little, with eight- to ten-foot waves—hollow, fast and tricky. Greg MacGillivray is out in the channel shooting film for ABC, and later says there were some twelve footers at times.

Everyone surfs well in the final. Paul Strauch, with his years of riding Sunset working no doubt giving him an edge, gets second. Mike Doyle, last year’s winner, picked three good waves in the prelims but has trouble with wave selection in the final and gets fifth. Rolf Aurness, who won his heat on Saturday, comes in fourth—he couldn’t seem to get it together.

Eddie Aikau, a lifeguard at Waimea Bay who surfs Sunset almost every day, doesn’t seem to be working today with his usual speed and rail control but he still manages to put together enough points for third place.

Joey Cabell rips into some long fast walls, and skates along the tops of the waves. He's riding a four-inch-thick board with turned down rails and super flat bottom, and seems to be getting all the speed he needs for these waves. Enough to put him in first place. Friday, the day before the contest, while practicing, Joey had a bad wipeout and pulled a muscle in his torso. Missing the pre-contest festivities on Friday night, Joey showed up Saturday to surf and make it to the finals.

The complaints continue, even after the contest is over. A lot of people are wondering: Why did they rush this thing?

On Monday, which would have been the third day of the contest, people are still talking about the Duke as they surf excellent eight- to ten-foot Makaha.

They were still talking about it on Tuesday, the fourth day, as they surfed and watched Sunset on one of its best days—big, hot, and sunny. All day they rode on happening waves. They put on a show that far surpassed what we saw on the actual contest day. Up until dark they surfed, others watched, and as the sun went down over Kaena Point, everyone knew the day had been a happening. These were the kind of waves surfers dream about for a contest . . . too bad it couldn’t have been.

1969 Duke Kahanamoku Surfing Classic

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