Always Summer on the Inside

Jack O'Neill has succumbed at the age of 94. The inventor of the modern wetsuit has passed on to the next wave, that fluid, organic state from whence he came. You had a long and fruitful ride, Jack. Thanks for your contributions. Wishing you a happy and peaceful next journey.

No one had a greater effect on the world of modern surfing than Jack O'Neill.  The wetsuit, an insulating and protective skin for cold water sports, may have been inevitable, given human ingenuity. But Jack is the one who made it happen. He was the right guy at the right time.

The effect of the wetsuit is astounding, if you think about it. For today's old guys, it was say goodbye to 20-minute winter sessions in frigid water and hello to hours of surfing almost anywhere in the world. It was like making the transition from horse to car for transportation, black-and-white to color, like man going to the moon. 

Take a look at the lineups in Santa Cruz -- Jack's adopted and longtime home town -- and you'll see throngs of wetsuit-clad surfers sitting on boards, riding waves and otherwise, all looking like seal-skin creatures from the deep lagoon. It's staggering, because only a tiny fraction of those water-borne amphibians in the dark suits would be out there if it weren't for Jack. They'd be hugging land, for sure in places like Iceland, Scotland and Alaska.

We have all been treated to a really cool layer of skin that enables us to surf regardless of water temp. Thanks, Jack!

There are lots of places to learn about this inventor, waterman, marketing genius and environmental steward. "It's Always Summer on the Inside" by Drew Kampion (see book cover above) is a good place to start. Following is my brief, yet spectacular experience with Jack.

An early, provocative O'Neill's ad that is in the book.

I met Jack at his house on a foggy summer morning in 1979. Overlooking one of the most popular surfing spots in Santa Cruz -- Pleasure Point -- Jack's home cantilevers above the beach and foamy surf below, with south-facing windows and decks exposing the Monterey Bay.

Dressed in a sweat shirt and jeans, he offered me coffee as we sat at a table with a view. It was a typical June morning in Santa Cruz, grey light filtered through a marine layer of low clouds and fog, a monochromatic picture from inside his sparsely furnished beach pad, where he lived till the end.

A deeper, glassy ocean churned quietly below. He was alone at his house, wearing his iconic black patch over his left eye. He appeared the image of a sea captain or pirate, though not gruff or hurried, more laid-back, casual and at ease. That was 39 years ago, which would have made him 56 at the time.

I was there to interview him for a profile to go in a tourist publication called the Visitors Guide. He asked me right off if I knew Drew Kampion who at that time I believe was editor of Surfer magazine and one of the seminal writers about modern surfing starting in the 1960s. It was obvious that Jack was fond of Drew. It is fitting that he authored the most comprehensive book about Jack's life. 

We chatted about the state of surfing and the contribution of his wetsuit. But the main thing Jack wanted to talk about was windsurfing. "It's the next big thing," he said. His enthusiasm was palpable. I believed him. He was the man on the cutting edge, a proven innovator.

Of course windsurfing never surpassed surfing, which catapulted in popularity in the '90s with the re-emergence of the longboard. We have also witnessed kite surfing, stand-up paddling, wave kayaking and big-wave riding to the extreme. All the while Jack continued to expand his empire of wetsuits and surf apparel. He also became seriously involved in ocean protection and education through his non-profit Sea Odessey conservation program. The Monterey Bay became a National Marine Sanctuary in 1992.

For years you would spot him around town driving his 1956 Jaguar with the top down, or riding his bicycle along the ocean cliffs. Today you see an array of flowers expressing love, sympathy and appreciation on the inland side of his beloved beach house.