
PANAMA CITY BEACH - In the mid-1970s, a group of surfers from South Africa and Australia ventured to Hawaii. They were young and crass, with egos as big as Waimea waves. They changed the sport of surfing forever.
"If surfing at the time was Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young," Shaun Tomson said, "we were Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin."
Now 53-years-old and still surfing, Tomson found himself in Panama City Beach on Monday to host a screening of "Bustin' Down the Door." The film tells the story of how he and his friends revolutionized wave riding.
"It's a movie about dreams, it's a movie about kids," he told those gathered Monday night at Pier Park's Grand 16 Theater. "It's a story about how these young guys made their dreams come true."
Earlier in the afternoon, Tomson delayed his already late lunch and sat down to talk about his life's passion. He hunkered down at a small table in a friend's townhouse a few blocks from the beach and spoke of his influence on surfing, and surfing's influence on him.
"We just had this dream," Tomson said, recalling memories of yore. "We just loved surfing; loved it."
Tomson and his buddies, including Mark Richards and Wayne "Rabbit" Bartholomew, were bent on making a dent in the world of surfing. They traveled to the wave-mecca of Oahu, Hawaii, and got down to business.
"The Hawaiian style was very graceful," he said. "We came with a hard-rock attitude."
Whereas the island's native surfers attempted to blend in with the waves, the newcomers aggressively attacked the water. Their style was rough and brash. They rode shorter boards, zigging and zagging as they pleased. They made a few enemies along the way.
"For a while, it was very, very rough," Tomas said. "We had contracts out on our lives. I went out and bought a Remington 12-gauge."
Eventually, their brand of surfing caught on. They started getting invited to contests, and winning. The entire landscape of surfing soon would ebb their way, changing in their wake.
"We really pushed the snowball up to the top of the mountain and rolled it down," Tomson said. "We were the guys; we were the key protagonists."
In addition to bringing a more aggressive attitude to the sport, these young surfers had another goal: They wanted to get paid. Up to this point, it was hard to view surfing as viable career choice. It would boom into big business, raking in billions of dollars during the years to come.
Not everyone was thrilled about the influx of cash into the world of surfing. There was a sentiment that the commercialization somehow diluted the purity, destroyed the mystique.
"Yeah, there was a backlash," Tomson said. "Which I always thought was absolute crap. The greatest artists in the world get paid for their work."
In the decades following those game-changing years, Tomson has made movies and started clothing companies. He has written books and become a family man. He has lost a son. Through it all, he has surfed.
"I wouldn't have survived without surfing," he said.
Playing out on the widescreen of the Grand 16 on Monday night, current and past legends of the sport paid homage to Tomson and his cohorts. The film, narrated by actor Edward Norton, offers a raucous perspective of a slice of time both lost and perpetual. It is filled with big waves, rowdy smiles and sun-baked beach beauties in crocheted bikinis.
It tells the story of how surfing got from yesterday to today, while inspiring dreamers to dream. More than a surf movie, it philosophizes an approach to life.
"I'm very proud of what we did," Tomson said, before finally eating his lunch. "I wouldn't have changed anything."