In last week's Sunday Joint, at the end of a short riff on big-wave ninja James Jones, I wrote that was curious as to "how Jones got the nickname 'Booby,' and if his inability to shake it is why he so often appeared to be sullen. 

Harcore surf history buffs might will remember Cassidy as one of the helmet-wearing "Rocketmen" from 1973's Red Hot Blue. He's also a longtime EOS subscriber and first-rate sender of emails, with deep knowledge of Hawaiian surfing during the late '60s and '70s.

Ricky took bait and fired this beauty off on Monday.

I confess I don’t know the origin of James’ nickname. Which says I’m ignorant. But it also says I’m not stupid. The only way for me to have discovered it would be if I’d asked his mother, who liked me. I wish I had. She might have told me. Alternatively, I could have asked his brother, but he was a beast, too formidable to ask anything of. He might have smashed me. For asking a question that was none of my business. I think his brother was called Jonesy. I fear I often was stoned, and fear that Jonesy didn’t hold much with stoners. So I was quiet. Stoned, but not stupid.

Anyway, the name didn’t matter, he was just Booby Jones—and he was a force of nature. Simply put, Booby had the most powerful drive to surf of anyone I’ve ever met and was an animal in the water. He also had a chip on his shoulder. Probably it started with size [Jones was 5′ 6″] but grew to whatever else stupid surfers talk smack about. Besides the great physical gifts, he had a brain, and so was great company. Finally, James had a wicked sense of humor, which he wielded often. He didn’t suffer fools—except me.

I don’t even remember how the two of us became friends, but we ended up spending most of our senior year in high school driving out to the country to surf. We laughed a lot. Especially whenever a new issue of this or that mag came out, saying this or that guy had killed it on the North Shore. Mike this, Angie that, Corky the other. All the Mac-Free guys. With nary a word about guys that who were 

 amazing—like the Lally Brothers. I don’t think SURFER liked James too much.

He was always pushing the envelope. He made his own boards, learned to ride switch, and charged big waves. His thing for Waimea (I hated the place) was monstrous. Nuts. I know he would seek out and talk to the greats about how to do Waimea right. Fred van Dyke loved him.

He pulled it off at the Bay. And was even better in slightly smaller surf (smile). Better than me, too (not so big a smile).

The only thing I equaled James in was not bragging about myself widely. But then, I was stoned.

Getting in trouble together? Yes. I was a liability for sure. I almost killed the two of us taking a corner on a wet road going home near V-land late one night. Stoned. ## I should point out, also, that Booby had a second act. He didn’t die surfing, for one thing. He didn’t hold too tight, and he also never let go. He balanced it. Went into business. Had a family. Told me some great stories of surfing Laniakea with his son. Good stories. We laughed.

Great stuff. But the Booby question itself was unanswered. Fortunately, another Joint reader, OC Johnny, got in touch and reminded me that the nickname origins were revealed in Beau Flemister's recent profile of Jones of Surfer's Journal. Here's the excerpt.

“Where the hell did 'Booby' come from?” I ask, the words practically slipping out of my mouth like a lurid belch.

Jones smiles. “Aw, Booby was always just my street name,” he says. As in, he didn’t go by Booby at school. “My mom started introducing me as Booby to protect me, and everyone loved it—so it stuck.”

The story goes that James' mom always knew he was smart, so as one of the smallest, most intelligent kids in his public school elementary classes, she dubbed him Booby (as in dolt) to save him from being bullied.

[Thanks also to Bill Saunders. Photos by Gordinho, Leonard Brady]

"BOOBY" MYSTERY . . . SOLVED!

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