The Mind of T-Raw

Five guys waited just beyond the break, maybe 40 yards out.

From what I could tell all were seasoned surfers. They were carelessly cutting each other off, something only friends did to each other in the water, laughing over their shoulders as they watched another spill into the misty grey foam. I watched them shred the 3-5 footers for a half and hour, maybe 45 minutes. It was overcast and cold, but if I knew anything about surf culture that didn’t matter to these guys.

While sitting on the sand enjoying the onshore breeze and studying the five surfers, one stood out. More daring than the others it seemed, the guy in the gray wetsuit took off on seemingly every wave, and ate it on every other. That wasn’t what made him stand out though. What caught my eye in him over the other four was that he seemed to be the most animated of the bunch. I could hear him from the sand, antagonizing his buddies, howling as he dropped into a nice right then pivoting up the face, spraying as he carved up the stormy water.

I snapped a picture.

Malibu native Tyler ripping down the face of a five-footer at El Porto | Photo by Jack Harris

After a while the five friends started to paddle in, his grey wetsuit was already half way off when I approached him.

I introduced myself. Tyler was his name but I would later learn that if you wanted to get his attention he went by another, much more fitting name.

“T-Raw” he said, “that’s what my boys call me.”

He was enthusiastic, passionate, and so “fired up” that it had finally stopped raining. He explained to me that he had been surfing since he was 11 but has always grown up around the water. At 23 years old he tries to paddle out at least a few times a week.

“I grew up in Malibu, but I live closer to Porto now so I come here pretty often,” he said. “It’s a great little spot, it just gets crowded.”

We talked for about a half an hour in total.

“Yea people say the culture is changing at some places, but Porto has always been chill ya know?”

I asked him what he meant.

“Well, I don’t know. Some of the hardcore guys get pissed when there’s a bunch of people out here, but I honestly don’t mind, there’s plenty of waves, man.”

I could relate to what T-Raw was explaining. I’m from the beach, and I’ve seen just how unwelcoming the real shredders can be to new surfers or those who weren’t locals (we call them Jerrys).

Tyler had the “surfer look.” He was tan, medium height, with light brown hair, but sported the undeniable surfer swoop that mimicked the waves I had just seen him ride. As Tyler looked back over the ocean, we discussed his job and his part-time class, seemingly disinterested in both… almost as if he was too distracted by the waves that constantly crashed against the sand. He talked about how beautiful of a day it was, which I found odd considering it was cold and overcast.

We talked about how he got into surfing.

“When you grow up along the coast, especially in southern California, it is just part of the culture. It’s not really if you’re going to learn to surf but when.”

Tyler embodied who I had hoped to meet at El Porto that day. A good surfer, without the elitist mindset that some guys have. Just happy to be out in the water and share that experience with good friends.