
It begins like this: a few mates get together in a garage on Tirriki Street at Blacksmiths and agree to form a surf club. It was 1965, and surfing had been the Australian coastal obsession for a generation.
By modern standards (and probably even by the standards of the day), it was a modest affair. Peter Staley was elected as the first president of a club ostensibly set up for his and his brother Paul's mates and neighbourhood surfers. His mum was the treasurer, and their clubhouse was the family shed.