Go Here to read Matt Warshaw's entry on Donald in the Encyclopedia of Surfing
Dick Metz called to say a mutual friend had passed on, Mike Riedel. "When?""A week or two ago."
Who today knows of this fine Malibu surfer, a great guy. Dick asked me to put some thoughts together.
What I've written doesn't particularly go somewhere. It’s just writing... and by so doing–remembering and yearning.
For no other reason than that he stood 6'4" (if he'd ever really stood up straight) and was lean, we called him; 'The Noodle'.
I met Noodle somewhere in and-around spring, Malibu, 1954. Maybe by a beach fire, or in the line up yakking between sets.
He was a smooth and graceful surfer.
Although not someone you'd particularly notice from the beach, his skill was well-respected by his peers; one of a handful of hot West LA guys I'd occasionally see at Malibu: Bailey, Hopkins, Bullis, Schurmer and Riedel.
And, beyond many, Noodles had top-notch wave savvy.
Looking back, he maybe should have been called 'The Guide', for showing all of us "who was who" and "what was and wasn't worthwhile". And demonstrating that–with very little effort–gloves, a dive mask and tennis shoes; instead of catching waves off the Malibu reef, you could pick off good-sized lobsters!
In his final years, he served as resident guide in an up-scale Idaho fishing resort, a job he thoroughly loved.
Mike entered USC a couple years after me and we hung out often... Mostly hung out getting out of there to surf Swamis, Malibu, or Rincon.
Then one by one, the opposite sex picked us off. In Mikes’ case I think it was even before finishing college. I moaned when it happened. He'd hooked up with a Mormon girl, Marilyn. Nice enough gal and not that I have anything against Mormons. I moaned because of all friends, the Noodle seemed least likely to give up drink.
And I'll add it wasn't so much drink, it was about Mike no longer being a bachelor. Gone. If you wanted to hang out with him, it was at his house with all the domestication. Before then, if you went to dinner with Mike Riedel, you'd know you'd really been somewhere and done something special... even if it was just to El Cholo where you always went. Riedel was perhaps the best host, most conversationally entertaining human I've ever known. You felt very alive and comfortable with him... and continuously entertained!
In any case, he did give up drink. And stuck with it for many, many years during which time he and Marylyn spawned a whole pastel of kids; now of course, all grown. At least two of them became prominent in the surf world, shaper Stretch Riedel and promoter, Clark Riedel.
In 1958 or 59, I wrangled a job with Douglas Aircraft. After a few months, I got Riedel a job there too. Although, like me, his experience didn't extend much beyond surfboard repair, he was able to fake his way along for several years and surely did some good.
We played chess at lunch, ate often at the Chatum in West LA and occasional ditched out to surf Malibu.
Various times and places along the way, Mike, ever the wood working hobbiest, became a surfboard shaper for Dave Sweet, carved beautiful rifle stocks, and in the early days of epoxy resin, came up with use of an electric bar-b-que rotary to flow epoxy continuously around the base of fishing pole eyes (all of them at once!) to hold them to the pole instead of laboriously binding them on with fine lines of cord one at a time.
Years passed, families grew, marriages dissolved and Mike remarried Vickie. They moved to Idaho where they bought a very high-end fishing magazine, which they published for decades.
A couple of years back Mike visited me here in San Clemente. I was somewhat shocked to find he was no longer 'The Noodle'. Back problems followed by operations had cut him down to about 5'10", badly stooped over. But inside, he was the same humorous pal. That was good.
A year or so ago I wrote him that Anning had passed, three or four months ago Ken Price, and then a month or two, Tubesteak. After that he wrote back he was soon to follow, "Cancer has me by the balls, I've very little time left". I emailed my good byes briefly, over the years we had already enjoyed plenty of quality correspondence.
Of what might be considered a kind of set of 1935-37 Malibu waves, Bill Bullis, Scott Schurmer, J.J. Moon, Lynn Bailey, Bill Hopkins, Karl Pope and I remain.
Frankly I feel the draft... look more forward to a major transition than a continuation of progressive decline. And, there's always the possibility of transcending from grub to butterfly.
So long for now, Mike Riedel, Terry Tracy, Kenny Price, John Anning, and Bobby Patterson.
—Tom Morey
This note is intended to reach folks on my list who know or are familiar with Danny Calohan, one of the partners and the principle shaper for Plastic Fantastic Surfboards from 1968 to 1972.
Danny lives up in my area, here in the Pacific Northwest of the US. We've had a few road trips together in the past 10 years, primarily to serve at judges for the Clean Water Classic surf contest in Westport, Washington. In between those events we've stayed in loose contact.
A gifted wood artist and carpenter, Danny's had his share of physical challenges over the past few years, but I was stunned to receive this message from his daughter Sarah:
"I'm incredibly sad to inform you that my father is not going to be with us much longer. We recently found out that he has lung cancer that has metastasized to his adrenal gland; he doesn't have more than a couple months.
"I hate to ask this of you, but I was wondering if you could contact some of the ol' gang and let them know. He isn't completely lucid, but he has his moments. If anyone has any pictures or memories to share, I think that would really brighten up his last days. I'm sure you know this about him, but he never stopped missing the good ol' days. Thank you for being a friend.
"Aloha and Mahalo,
Sarah Lina"
So ... if you would like to send Danny something, the address is:
Melissa & Daniel Calohan
P.O. Box 2631
Friday Harbor, WA 98250
Eddie Bertrand, the guitarist from the Bel Airs died. The Bel-Airs were an early and influential surf rockband from Southern California, active in the early 1960s. They were best known for their 1961 hit "Mr. Moto", an instrumental surf rock song that featured a flamenco inspired intro and contained a melodic piano interlude. (excerpt from Wikipedia)
