Bill Cleary interviewed John Peck for the November 1963 issue of Surf Guide. Peck was 19.

You're known for being extremely confident.


I’ve always had an inferiority complex, no matter what. I always feel inferior and cover up with a veneer of superiority. I know I’ll never live down the reputation I have for being conceited. I hear it all the time, "Oh yeah, he’s the guy who wears the T-shirt with 'Yes, I’m John Peck . . . I Surf' written on the back." When I started surfing I really wanted people to know me. I wanted that more than anything, but when you get there it’s different. You’re not an image, you become a scapegoat that people chop down and take out their jealousies on. Whenever or wherever you go to the beach, you're recognized and they automatically look for something wrong. You can’t enjoy yourself. You’re on the chopping block. All these thoughts ran through my mind a few weeks ago at Huntington Pier. On big summer swells Huntington is one huge wall and the sand bars are all twisted around so that the hardest section is right through the pier. It’s a little tight. It became a psychological block with me and I kept thinking that all those people were up on the pier saying, "He’s surfed the Pipeline; he must have all the guts in the world." You have to live up to this. But I don’t want to 

Who are your greatest influences in surfing?


I owe most of what I am today to Ricky Grigg and Buzzy Trent. Ricky picked me up at Ala Moana two years ago when I was the biggest big-mouth that ever lived. What a kook! Nobody even wanted to see me, I was so bad. Ricky started taking me to the Country and talking to me. But I’m not like a lot of the guys who can express their feelings easily. Guys like Ricky and Buzzy and Dora have gone farther in life and know more about it. They have their convictions more or less set. I don’t—I’m still more or less a kid. My ideas and viewpoints are constantly changing. The one thing that does remain constant, however, is that I’m still completely addicted to surfing. I still enter every contest around.


Doesn’t that conflict with your current philosophy— that once you’ve achieved surfing fame, it’s a dubious distinction; that notoriety is not what you are now seeking?


I’m schizoid. I’m completely repulsed by the whole situation—yet I still seek it. I need it, but that doesn’t mean I understand why. Then again, like with the Malibu Contest last September, riding Malibu with only a few other guys was a thrill alone worth entering for. Joey Cabell, who has always been my idol, put on a fantastic show. Take all the fantastic things that all the other surfers have ever done and throw them all together and they’d never top what Joey did that day. On one wave he ran up and put his heels over the nose. On the next he put both feet on the nose and did a spinner while climbing and dropping. But on the most amazing wave of all, he ran to the nose and dragged one foot in the water, spinning the entire board around, back-peddled and then turned from the nose. And finally he took off skeg-first, ran to the tail, spun the board around and ran to the nose. People were jumping up and down and screaming their heads off. He won the contest, of course. I got second.

The number of girl surfers is increasing rapidly. Soon many of them will be getting good. How good will they become? Will they ever be as good as men?


There is something about the sport that will keep girls from ever really reaching the top. It’s purely a matter of aggressiveness; girls are passive by nature. Sure, some girls are aggressive, but basically it’s just not part of who they are. Linda Benson is the best girl surfer, she’s amazing. But she has worse days than anyone else I’ve ever seen—days when she can barely stand up. Another girl, Joey Hamasaki, used to ride Ala Moana as well as anyone, but she doesn’t surf anymore. Mozell Angel has ridden Sunset and Robin Grigg [Ricky’s sister] used to ride a lot of big waves. But none of them have ever ridden the Pipeline. Again, the natural female tendency toward submissiveness is what will keep girls from becoming top surfers.

What about the Pipeline? It was there, last winter, that the surfing world recognized you as a tremendous performer.


Pipeline waves are the scariest in the world and I guess they’re potentially dangerous if you don’t know how to wipe out. The important thing is to stay at the bottom of the wave so that when it comes over you aren’t in a position to be smashed against the shallow coral bottom. Most of the older guys won't ride there. I have a lot of respect for those guys in big waves, but they don’t have the speed and agility to ride the Pipeline. Everything happens too fast. You drop into a wave . . . it’s crashing . . . and suddenly it’s all over. Actual it's a pretty long ride, but it goes so fast that you don't realize it.

Since you’ve lived in Hawaii the last few years, how would you compare surfing in the Islands with California waves?

It’s weird the way the peaks zig-zag in over the submerged reefs here. Sunset, when it’s big: you’ll see waves building over a mile out—peaks all along the horizon as far as you can see. Guys are always paddling for the horizon their first few times out at Sunset, until they look back and see the locals sitting holding back, watching them as if they were nuts. I’ve ridden big waves on the California coast, too, but cold water really psyches me out. At Swami’s last winter, LJ Richards was tearing the place apart. But the water was so cold I could hardly stand up. I fell on my face. I just can’t surf when the water is cold. I need warm water to ride big waves.


Is your style more of a California style, or a Hawaii style, do you think?


I'm really more attuned to Hawaii at this point, where the waves move nearly twice as fast toward the beach. In California, the waves move too slowly and you haven’t enough speed for absolute control. You do a bottom turn and just stop. You’re always fighting against dipping a rail. My style is to take off left (if I’m going right) drop to the bottom and just lean in the middle of the board to turn. In Hawaii when you do this, you have power and can therefore accelerate across the wall. I like the feeling of speed. That’s why I can’t stand to ride the nose unless I’m in trim. I hate the feeling of drag so I ride flat boards. I try to be constantly in trim, slowing down by turning. Again, this is difficult in California because the waves are slower. You have to stall to stay in the waves, which isn’t very exciting to me.

What kind of board do you like to ride in Hawaii?

Even though I’ve done most of my surfing in the Islands where the surf is consistently larger, I’ve only ridden a gun a few times in my life. I borrowed Mike Doyle’s board, rode it at Sunset one day, at Waimea another day, and in Makaha Point Surf. I ride a 9'8" hotdog board at Sunset all the time. A board that you could surf Sunset like it was Malibu. It has the speed, but doesn't paddle that hot. Of course, I always did like late takeoffs.

You haven’t been surfing as long as most of the well-known surfers and, in fact you began just prior to the time when Hollywood released 

 and the surf-fad broke loose. So, it may be an unfair question, but what do you think of the commercialization of surfing?

I hate it! In order for anything to become commercial or popular, there must be a mass market. And with this huge market, the sport is ruined. Real surfing demands a complete lack of people. It’s basically an individual thing; I never enjoy myself so much as when I’m surfing alone. It’s as if there weren’t a human being for a thousand miles. I’m never really aware when I’m surfing. All that’s in my mind is the particular wave I’m riding; I’m not even aware of the board. I’m completely absorbed in the wave. I’m riding that wave and nothing else. I have a very poor memory and can’t even remember a few waves back.


Sometimes I don’t mind surfing with people just for the sake of social activity, but when the waves really get good, I’m oblivious to everyone. Many times I feel so happy — I’m so stoked—that I want other people to enjoy it with me, and when they don’t show obvious signs of enjoying it, I feel compelled to talk about it; to force them to react. But it’s the crowds that really bother me. Surfing is a fabulous sport and it shouldn’t be hidden from the public. It's a sport that everyone has the right to enjoy. It’s very close to nature; psychologically, it’s very basic and somehow involved with sex.

Commercialization has done some bad things aside from generally overcrowding the best spots. Too many people have traded in their leather jackets and motorcycle boots for surfboards and Pendleton shirts. I was in Las Vegas not too long ago and saw the perfect example of what I’m talking about. There were some blond kids with long hair riding skateboards and saying "stoked" and "bitchin" and "glassy tubes." I asked them, “What’s a set?" And they just looked at me. The point is, I hate pseudos.


It’s the relaxation that’s important—the escape from things that bug me. Surfing is something that should be enjoyed. But it’s not an end in itself. It should be kept in its right place like any other sport. As I said before, surfing tends to bring out the animalistic tendencies in people. I just hope they can remember to be human beings.


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