Enigmatic, eccentric, visionary, ground breaking, polarising, unconventional, innovative, reclusive, theatrical and irreverent; these sub texts barely scratch the surface of the complex entity known mostly as Peter Drouyn.
Queensland’s original surfing superstar burst onto the national radar as a supremely confident junior at the 1966 Australian Titles. In 1968 he officially became my boyhood hero when I witnessed his wizardry and showmanship live at Snapper Rocks. He really had that wow factor.
That same year, we moved from Rainbow Bay to Kirra and whenever Drouyn paddled out at Kirra I would get out of the water and stand in the shed to witness the spectacle.
Two sessions remain vividly etched in my brain. The original Kirra, pre big groyne, was nearly beyond human consumption at low tide. It was six feet, grinding and 99% of people couldn’t make the drop. The big names gave it a crack, Paul and Rick Neilson had brought their buddy Baddy Treloar, who deployed his hyper kick nose pintail to great effect on the below sea level low tide sand grinders. Drouyn was next level in his mastery over these treacherous suckers, riding the foam ball until it squared up on the bank as a double up, never out of control with perfect synchronicity.
This was pre MP, PT, Bugs, even Wayne Deane. When Drouyn came home after winning the world famous Makaha International he turned up at Kirra with a Dick Brewer inspired mini gun. It was like a needle, maybe 18” wide. Full of confidence with the extra prowess from a winter in Hawaii, Drouyn was majestic, soul arching through my favourite section from the weather shed past the clubhouse.
The 1970 Australian Titles at Greenmount was another defining moment. Perfect three to four foot walls running down the point, not barrelling like today’s super bank but much more intimate. Drouyn was at his swashbuckling best, a matador on the waves with the swagger of Brando on land. This was the last gathering of my superheroes; Nat, Midget, Ted Spencer, Keith Paull, Baddy, and a messiah like Wayne Lynch, who I was totally in awe of.
Drouyn owned it, winning every heat and all three Finals. He was supposed to win the 1970 World Title at Bells, but when the Final was shifted to Johanna, Californian Rolf Aurness took the crown on a 7’0 keel fin while Nat was under gunned and Drouyn rode the same handmade board he dominated Greenmount on and finished third behind Rolf and Midget.
Drouyn returned to the world scene for the closing event of the 1976 Hawaiian season to announce the 1977 Stubbies Classic. “There will be blood on the rocks at Burleigh,” he said as he grabbed the mic to deliver a speech to the crowd.
My heart skipped a beat but then he went on to colour his revolutionary man on man format and thrilled the crowd.
The Stubbies was an iconic event, ushering in the World Tour while showing the world the Aussie way of intense competition followed by intense partying. The top four in the comp were Michael Peterson, Mark Richards, Shaun Tomson and I. It was MP’s swansong victory, while the rest of us became the faces of the new World Tour.
During the 1977 Bells event, Doug Warbick incorporated two rounds of the man on man format. The first ever man on man final featured me and Drouyn.
I travelled with Peter that first full touring year. It was hilarious. Peter was the entertainer, a deep thinker, we shared super highs of fun dinners and mega depression when, while ranked fourth, Peter didn’t get invited to the Duke Kahanamoku Classic. There were 24 invites, chosen by peer poll, much the same way The Eddie is done and with Peter being absent from the North Shore for much of the 70’s, he was just not on their radar. It was sad to see Peter miss out after all he had done, but he was slightly on the wrong side of history in that instance, the sport wasn’t ready and he fell through the cracks.
Peter was such a visionary. One day in 1994, he knocked on my door and unveiled his grand vision of a ‘wave stadium’. He was raising capital and even his great rival Nat Young had pledged $1000 towards the project and Peter wanted me to pitch in. I asked him how much he was trying to raise. ‘$100,000,000’ he exclaimed, without blinking an eye, or even winking. ‘Put me down for $100 mate,’ I shot back.
Like pretty much everything, Drouyn was 20 years before it’s time. There was pioneering surfing in China, where eventually the vast majority of surf industry products would be manufactured, and then there was Drouyn Island, 15 years before Tavarua became the dream destination for barrel hunters.
I must admit the Westerly phase threw me big time, and I still don’t know how to address it, perhaps because I let it all pass under me like a tsunami at sea. Allow me to suggest checking out the movie ‘The Life and Death of Westerly Windina’ premiering at the Byron Bay International Film Festival on Saturday October 19 or catching it at a cinema near you as it has its cinematic run.
One thing for sure, those dreamers whose time came before the money have to continually reinvent themselves. This is both fun and harrowing at the same time, and I don’t think anyone plays the Tiger Line better then Peter Drouyn.
