Kevin in the clear waters of Tamarindo, Costa Rica, 1972. The beach was empty (we slept under palapas we made in the sand), the road was non-existent (dirt and mud), the living was meager (no restaurants to speak of), but we made do with nice little waves all to ourselves. -- Kevin Naughton | Photo by Craig Peterson Theres an unwritten rule that states you dont leave good surf, especially if its uncrowded. Mexico had both. Why keep going into an unknown void? Because exploration is what makes the surf world turn. Waves have a way of making us all restless. Some of us get more restless than others, and so the search begins.
-- Kevin Naughton and Craig Peterson, Search for the Perfect Wave
Picture a surfer, and youre probably seeing a guy crouched on a board, sunlight shining through the water wrapped around his lean body. He zips out of a wave, the wake of his fin leaving a white trail behind.
That moment is what all surfers seek, an eternity in the curl, but so little of the surfing experience is actually spent riding waves. On a really good day, a surfer will spend a couple minutes max actually standing on his board. The rest of the time hes floating in the water, waiting, or sitting on the beach, staring, or bouncing around in a car, getting there.
Kevin Naughton and Craig Peterson know that downtime better than anyone. The two Orange County surfers headed south on a series of Central American adventures in the early 1970s, driving Volkswagens through mud and over sand, and the articles they published in Surfer magazine inspired countless others to follow. Now Naughton and Peterson have compiled those original articles -- along with many more anecdotes and photos -- in the first volume of Search for the Perfect Wave, a gorgeous book that shows life in and out of the water for the two happy-go-lucky misadventurers and their neer-do-well buddies.
La Libertad, El Salvador, 1972. Aside from a few Peace Corps volunteers, no one knew much of anything about El Salvador. All that changed when our first dispatches to Surfer hit the news stands. This shot of Kevin racing down the line at Libertad Point as the sunrise stretches over the bay is the stuff that surfers dream of waking up to. It was a tranquil time in that country, and La Libertad was a particularly idyllic place, where surfers could live on the cheap, within walking distance of great waves, and not worry about a thing if you left your gear on the beach while you surfed (such are the advantages to being the first ones there!). -- Kevin Naughton | Photo by Craig Peterson
Naughton and Peterson first met in the late 1960s at their home break, Huntington Beach. Surf City USA was a lot sketchier back then, especially in contrast to upscale Newport Beach. Even on a bright summer day it still looked a bit seedy, Naughton writes. This was not your Main Street in America where parents allowed their underage daughters to roam. A popular surf spot in Huntington was called the hot water pipe, a break where rust-colored water from oil operations flowed onto the beach and straight into the ocean. Surfers would stand under the pipe to warm themselves after a morning in the waves, and the water had a very distinctive smell. Naughtons dog wouldnt go anywhere near him after a morning at that break.
One day, Naughton caught a wave on the south side of the Huntington Beach Pier and zipped towards the pilings. He shouldve pulled out sooner, but teenage recklessness overcame reason and he barely missed slamming into a barnacle-covered pole. He washed through the concrete forest unscathed, disoriented, with his board in pieces, and thats when Peterson swam up with his camera and said, Wow, I just missed getting that shot of you in midair in front of the pilings. Mind trying it again?
The two soon became traveling buddies, exploring breaks up and down the California coast. They ventured down to Baja, aka the place where cushy goes to get crushed. But they were inspired to go further. Theyd both seen The Endless Summer, Bruce Browns 1966 movie about two guys circumnavigating the globe in search of warm water and empty waves, and they were restless. Peterson, a couple years younger than Naughton, was a staff photographer for Surfer while still in high school, and the two entered the publications office with a bunch of maps and enthusiasm. They exited with advance money and the promise of two or three articles.
This was a cover shot of Surfer magazine in 1973 with the heading, Discovery on the Way Home from Central America. It rocked the surf world. It was proof positive of what surfers had always suspected: great, empty waves were to be found in Mexico if one had the bravado to get out there and look for them. (Surfers did, and Mexico would never be the same.) -- Kevin Naughton | Photo by Craig Peterson
Before the Central American journey could begin, Peterson had to secure a letter from his parents. He was only 17 years old, and he didnt want border agents all the way down to Costa Rica to assume he was a runaway. He had enough credits to finish high school, and his parents granted permission so long as he returned for graduation. Peterson did make it back to Huntington Beach a few months later, walking in his cap and gown on a Saturday. He boarded a bus back to El Salvador the following Monday.
With Peterson shooting photos and Naughton handling the words, the duo sent back three articles over six months -- in one package a black and yellow wasp stowed away, causing havoc in the Surfer office. Once published, the articles pioneered the idea of the freewheelin surf road trip, and many Southern California kids followed in the duos bare-footsteps. You can read those first two articles in Search for the Perfect Wave, and whats striking is how little the actual waves were discussed.
We had an epiphany where we realized the photos say more about
