Let’s paint a mental picture – it’s the mid 50’s and you’re one of the first Southern California surf bums to exist in history. We won the war, the economy is booming, the middle class has never been stronger, you’re on the GI bill, all your friends have grown up and bought track homes with their jobs as accountants, engineers, and salesmen …and you couldn’t care less about that lifestyle. There was a fork in the road, one that led towards materialism and stability and another that led towards harmonizing with First Point, Malibu.
Your family doesn’t know how to describe you, the closest thing they can find is Jack Kerouac and the beatniks, your Keds barely resemble a shoe but being barefoot all day is a great solution, your Levis are lived and worked in, your white tee shirt is constantly being washed in the shorebreak and bleached by the sun, and, when you need to visit the non-surfing ranks of society, you throw on your Pendleton shirt to get fancy. You embody the postwar political rhetoric emphasizing cutting down the cost of living.
Work? Just enough to buy food and put enough gas in the Ford wagon to get you to Malibu, no board racks, just a towel, some rope, and a masters degree in the art of knot tying. Oh ya, and you have the body of a god: tall, dark, handsome, you helped win the war, you’re buff. Your values couldn’t be more opposite of your peers, your biggest investment is your pristine Joe Quigg Malibu Chip and having enough time in your day to relax and heal your mind from the war.
Before Gidget and the Beach Boys, Malibu had strict unwritten rules, respect was earned slowly, and there was a hardcore hierarchy that you earned a rank in. Nothing is valued higher than surf etiquette and style. You surf First Point almost every day and live almost entirely out of your Ford. Your pillars of success aren’t cloaked in capitalism, they’re represented in friendships, your harmony with the winds and tides, your comprehension of fine craftsmanship, and your freedom from obligations.
If you were a dedicated surfer in the Postwar era, this is your life in a nutshell and this is the lifestyle Tanner is introducing you to through his board designs.
You’re a direct custodian of 50’s and 60’s longboard designs. Can you explain the links in the lineage that take us from surfing’s forefathers, like Joe Quigg, to your shaping sense, Mike Marshall, to you?
In the late 50’s Joe Quigg had a shop on 31st street in Newport beach where they built boats and surfboards, Mike Marshall worked for Quigg at the shop shaping boards and doing fibreglass work and that is where he learned and honed his skills as a shaper and board builder himself. Fast forward 40 + years later, Mike Marshall took me under his wing when I showed up at blackies with a self shaped backyard board. As shitty as the first board was, there was something that he saw in that board and he offered to mentor me and pass down his knowledge. I spent a lot of time with him in the shaping bay at his house in Costa Mesa.
Mike Marshall is one of the last direct links to the first generation of Malibu shapers. When you were learning under him, what wasn't written down? What kinds of things could only be learned by standing beside him in the shaping bay?
Mike was an amazing teacher and mentor. We didn't write a lot of stuff down. Most things were taught through stories. There was something about the way he spoke and taught, that really made you listen and pay attention. The stuff I have written down was usually notes on templates or a scrap of wood.
Standing on the opposite side of the blank and watching a master like Marshall take passes with a planer was unbelievable. He taught me to be efficient with my movements and to not over complicate it.
The Malibu Chip wasn’t necessarily one specific design but rather a surfboard design movement centered around hotdogging Malibu in the mid 50’s. What’s your perspective on this era? How was surfboard design evolving and what were the intentions behind building Malibu Chips the way they did?
I think this era is so intriguing because it is when they went from heavy redwood boards to lighter balsa and eventually foam boards with more refined outlines, rails and fins. This was just out of necessity to evolve the craft and make the boards more maneuverable. Having a perfect right point break like Malibu really allowed them to test and refine these designs.
I have always loved the outlines and pulled on noses from this era. Aesthetically there is just something about it that is so timeless. My focus is around trim and feeling connected with the wave and these out lines and rockers suit that so well. When I'm shaping my goal is to take away everything that is unnecessary from a board and get to the most simple form.
Modern surfers often assume those early boards were primitive. Do you think that's fair, or do you think we've actually forgotten something they were exceptionally good at?
I don't think those boards were primitive at all, if anything they were ahead of their time yet passed by too quickly. That keeps drawing me back to this era and wanting to revisit those designs with a more modern approach.
When we were going through and cleaning out Mike Marshall’s shaping bay we found some original paper Malibu chip templates from the Quigg shop in Newport Beach as well as an original speed fin wood template. I made copies and still use both of those templates in my boards today, so it is really cool to be able to put a bit of that history into each board.
The next big chapter after the Malibu Chip was seeing what Phil Edwards could do on a wave. Can you explain what his impact was like as he rose through surfing's ranks in the early 60’s?
Phil Edwards took everything that was happening in the late '50s and refined it. He made surfing look effortless. It wasn't about tricks or forcing the board to do something, it was about being completely in sync with the wave. His surfing showed what those boards were really capable of. I think he influenced a whole generation of shapers because everyone wanted to build boards that could carry that same feeling of trim, flow, and speed.
What is it about Phil Edwards' surfing that justified building an entire model around one of his boards? Was it the board itself, or was it Phil's relationship with trim that inspired you?
It was a bit of both. The rare footage I've seen of Phil riding his board “baby”, a balsa board measuring the magic length of 9'10¾”, is incredibly inspiring. Watching the way he trims and flows across a wave makes you realize how special he and the board were. He was so connected and had so much control.
I've always wondered where that design would have evolved if surfboard progression hadn't been moving so quickly at the time. The D fins in the early 60’s somehow got more sluggish with more rolled bottoms and fuller 50/50 rails. To me the late 50s was the golden era and bottoms were more flat with a 60/40 rail. They were more focused on trim and control rather than hot dogging and stalling.
That is what inspired me to build my own version of the Baby. It's not a replica, but an interpretation of where I think that design could have gone. I'm really happy with where it has ended up.
What are some of the boards that you’ve been able to surf that were shaped in this era?
I've been fortunate enough to surf a handful of original boards from that period, including some Joe Quigg boards, Hobies, and a few Phil Edwards models. Every one of them has its own personality, but what they all have in common is how smooth and connected they feel. They reward good positioning and patience. They don't force you to surf a certain way, they encourage you to slow down and let the wave do the work.
You’re a pretty dedicated Blackies local, obviously surfing Blackies has had an impression on you but what about the cultural backdrop of our beloved Newport logging spot, how has the scene played into your board building?
Blackies has had so many great surfers throughout the years. A few that stand out are al knost, cody simpkins, and jared mell. Each has such a unique style. I think that the wave and the culture in the parking lot really allows people's personality to shine through in the water. Most of the standout surfers from blackies also shape their own boards and the shapes are an extension of your style and how you want to approach a wave.
Some people restore old surfboards. You're doing something different—you seem to be restoring ideas. Do you feel any responsibility to preserve an era of surfing that could easily disappear?
Not so much a responsibility, it is just the era that I am into. I just try to make stuff that I like, and stoked that other people can connect with that.
Specifically with your Dash and Baby models, they are not replicas of designs from the 50’s and 60’s, instead they’re a pathway for recreating the experience of surfing in that era. What was your motivation to take people back in time through surfing one of your boards?
A lot of the people I shape boards for are interested in exploring this era of surfboard design. Through my mentorship with Mike Marshall, I've been exposed to a lot of boards inspired by the late '50s and early '60s, and I've always found that period incredibly intriguing.
The Dash and Baby aren't replicas of vintage boards, they're my interpretation of what those designs could have evolved into. In a way, they're a pathway back in time, allowing people to experience that style of surfing through a modern lens.
