Couple 'a Characters

Mac Reed, Wes Reed, Al Fox and Johnny Rice at "the office" (Cowell Beach circa 1985). Photo by  Rosemari Reimers-Rice

There is a photograph taken by the late actor Dennis Hopper of a local Malibu character sitting on Surfrider Beach, dressed like a flea market mavin in an outfit that could be described as Charlie Chaplin meets the Great Lebowski. As a shutterbug, Hopper had an artistic eye for capturing the soul of a person, or in this case, the curious juxtaposition of character to his environment.

Hopper's Malibu subject in this case, according to legend, was the original Moondoggie, whose name was popularized in the book-cum-movie, "Gidget."

If Hopper had been hanging out at Cowell Beach in Santa Cruz 40 or as late as 20 years ago, he would have found a wealth of photography subjects to rival his Malibu catalogue.

One such character from that era was a guy known as Longboard Tim. Rarely seen wearing anything but board shorts and a cap, Tim's sartorial creativity when he did clothe himself made Moondoggie's getup appear amateurish.

Riding his bicycle to work, Tim could be seen from three blocks away with his black top-hat towering above his head, with a Levi vest over his chiseled chest, wearing shorts and unlaced high boots. He had a job? He was the nighttime janitor for a well-known health food store, the Staff of Life.

For my money, Tim was the most artful and unique longboard surfer in a town of exceptional longboarders. He was the only one in the water in midwinter not wearing a wetsuit. Since he knee-paddled on his board, keeping his muscular body above the water line, he never got wet. He rarely if ever wiped out.

He would catch ten waves in the time most surfers caught one. He would line up removed from the crowd with an uncanny knowledge of an inside wave that no one else seemed to know about. He moved like a cat on his board, cross-stepping and hanging ten toes over the nose with the ease and subtle aplomb of a theatrical dancer.

"He was an exceptional guitar player and born-again Christian," said his neighbor-friend Mac Reed, another idiosyncratic Cowells character. "He knew more about guitar and the Bible than anyone. You didn't want to get into a conversation with him about those topics."

Reed lived in his own house across the street from Tim, who lived in a backyard "studio," to describe his quarters kindly. Reed had converted his two-car garage into a meticulously designed surf shack that could have served as a movie set. He also was fond of local dive bars. 

Mac liked to drink and rumor was he was also a barroom pugilist. He was not shy about his enjoyment of spirits, as he attested to me during a Cowells' surf session. He mentioned that he had just come from a well-known westside watering hole.

Both Tim and Mac were cool guys, as far as I knew them, which was as neighbors. Tim eventually developed health issues. Word was he had a bad hip from sleeping on a concrete floor. He relocated to the Bay Area where he had grown up. His disappearance from our westside hood above Cowells, about 20 years ago, marked the end of a simpler and more non-conformist era.

Mac claimed he was writing a book about surfing. He made his announcement in 1999 at a beach party at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk. I can only imagine the tales he could tell. About 10 years ago he sold his house and moved to Montana. Story was, he liked the rough-and-tumble cowboy bars up that way.

In 2015, Mac's name resurfaced in Santa Cruz. During pilgrimage he made to the Bishop Museum in Honolulu -- the premier emporium of Hawaii and surfing history -- he found the connection between Santa Cruz and three redwood surfboards on display there. They were the original boards ridden by three Hawaiian princes who introduced surfing to the mainland at the San Lorenzo River Mouth in Santa Cruz in 1885.

Thanks to Mac, in 2015, two of those original boards, hewn from local redwood, were transported back to Santa Cruz for a special exhibit at the Museum of Art and History. It was a big deal. The 17-foot, 100-pound boards had been specially wrapped and shipped to Santa Cruz. They were handled and displayed with a reverence befitting the Holy Grail.

Original redwood boards of Hawaiian Princes' who introduced surfing to California

Although Mac was not present for the showing, his mission to the Bishop had resulted in a most spiritual affair in Santa Cruz. The mana (Hawaiian for soul) present in the room, emanating from the two hand-hewn boards that connected ancient Polynesia to the continent through our little town, was palpable. The planks made of natural wood from local redwood had survived more than a century, crossed the Pacific and back to the place of their origin. 

As for the photograph by Dennis Hopper of the original Moondoggie, I have not been able to locate it for this blog. I did see this particular black-and-white photo at an exhibit (circa 2005) of surfing lore at the San Jose Museum of Art. Hopper was an artist with a camera and most of his Malibu subjects, found online, are celebrities, well-known figures. I am more interested in the characters -- such as Moondoggie, Tim and Mac -- who with minor fanfare have added color and creativity to our lives and our culture.