Left : Hobie Alter at the Hobie Surf Shop in Honolulu in 1962 ; right : Vintage surfboards displayed at this Hobie shop on Maui are now at the Surfing Heritage and Culture Center . surfboard ( before foam was used ). “ I had to go up to Santa Monica and have Matt [ Kivlin ] make it ,” Metz says . “ There were no shops . He was sitting under a tree at the Sip ’ n ’ Surf bar in Santa Monica Canyon . He made the board — it took about a month . And I took it , brand-new on the Lurline , but we didn ’ t have board bags then and so it got a little ding on it .”
So when Metz arrived on Oahu , he asked if there was a place he could get some fiberglass and resin to repair the board . Perhaps surprisingly , his friends directed him to a doctor ’ s office . “ And there ’ s a sign hanging on one house . It said ‘ Dr . Dorian Paskowitz , M . D ., and Ding Repair ,’ ” Metz recalls .
“… I go in the living room . … On one side was a nurse taking applications to see Dr . Dorian Paskowitz and , in the dining room , … were [ sawhorses ] … that you ’ d lay your board on to repair it . So he would go from doing ding repair in one room to waiting on a patient with an infection or whatever . So this was 1951 . He had just graduated from medical school and was starting out . And he was a surfer . … To make a little side money , he would patch boards and patch people in the same place .” Metz says he remained friends with Paskowitz , who lived most of his life and raised 13 kids in a motorhome in San Onofre , for more than six decades until he passed away a few years ago in San Clemente . But their first time meeting
was to fix Metz ’ s board .
And that board helped Metz connect with the locals while in Hawaii for six months . His board weighed only about 30 pounds and was covered in fiberglass , a material that wasn ’ t readily available in Hawaii back then . The locals all wanted to try out his board because theirs were heavier . So , of course , Metz let them ride it .
“ So that ’ s how we became really good friends with the local guys . There weren ’ t very many ‘ haole ’ guys —[ white foreigners ]— who could surf then ,” Metz says . “ So [ Albert ] ‘ Rabbit ’ Kekai and … all these local beach boys — Duke Kahanamoku was one of them — we got to know them . And we were good friends . They ’ d invite us to all their parties . And we ’ d take out Hawaiian girls and that didn ’ t upset ’ em because we ’ d let them use our boards . And when I left on the Lurline , I gave my board to the beach boys .”
On the day his ship left , his friends all joined him on board before the Lurline departed . “ Walter and Grubby and all my pals are there and here come all the beach boys , like a dozen of them ,” Metz recalls . “… And they presented me with an outrigger canoe paddle . And so , they call you brah , which means brother , and they ’ re giving me hugs because I left them the surfboard . It was a trade-off . … So they ’ re giving me hugs , they presented me with this paddle , [ saying ,] ‘ You ’ re a brother , come back any time , you know we love you and you ’ re
THIS SPREAD : COURTESY OF SURFING HERTIAGE AND CULTURE CENTER / DICK METZ COLLECTION / SHACC . ORG
LAGUNA BEACH MAGAZINE 37