Midget's Still A Giant
Sydney Morning Herald
Saturday March 6, 1999
Thirty-five years ago Midget Farrelly became a legend. This week in Noosa he did it again. Ian Verrender reports.
AS GRUDGE matches go, it got off to a very shaky start. Thirty-five years after he won the first world surfing title, Bernard "Midget" Farrelly was seething.
Just a few days before the Ariadne 1964 World Title Rematch, Farrelly was far from a definite starter. Like so many times since his win, Farrelly was on the defensive.
For years he had railed against the use of marijuana when it was unfashionable to do so and against the prevailing wisdom of almost everyone in the surfing world. Then there was his bitter, decades-long feud with Nat Young; a dispute that spilled over into the media and detracted from what Farrelly believed to be his true position in the sport.
And now this. Lead-up publicity to the Rematch suggested one of the Americans, Joey Cabell, had been the clear winner 35 years ago but had lost because points were deducted for an interference ruling. The message was simple. Farrelly's 1964 crown, before a crowd of 65,000 at Manly beach, may have been a hometown decision and he would be desperate to now prove otherwise. "This is not a grudge match," Farrelly announced before the event. "These guys are multi-talented, sincere and noble people."
Then as an afterthought he sneered: "It's just that the promoter of this event is like the Don King of surfing."
Another finalist, Avalon surfer Mick Dooley and Midget's old mate, emphasised the point.
"I just hope everybody enjoys it for what it is. I don't know where Rematch comes from. There's no rematch in my mind."
Organiser Phil Jarratt was unfazed. During his years as a journalist, he'd grown accustomed to incurring the wrath of various interest groups, and while editor of surfing magazine Tracks lampooned just about every professional surfer on the circuit.
What he had before him this week, however, was several thousand spectators and arguably the biggest gathering of the surfing tribe ever assembled in one spot. Five of the six finalists from the 1964 final had flown in: Farrelly, Mike Doyle from Mexico, Joey Cabell from Hawaii, L. J. Richards from California and Mick Dooley from Avalon. Missing was Cronulla surfer Bobby Brown, killed in the 1960s as an innocent bystander in a pub brawl.
As a compromise, it was decided there would be no winner of the Rematch.
The Breaka Festival of Surfing, built around the Noosa Longboard Pro-Am, the world's biggest longboard event, has become an annual pilgrimage for thousands of surfers from around the globe.
The morning of the Rematch, and Mother Nature was being unco-operative. A dearth of swell on the fabled Noosa points and unfavourable winds forced organisers to shift the event to Castaways Beach, 6km south.
Shifty one-metre peaks and strong cross-winds, however, did little to dampen the enthusiasm of the old warriors. All put in warm-up sessions and Midget had to be called from the water so the event could get under way. The Americans, some of whom had not been to Australia since 1964, were lapping up the attention.
"I quit my real job six years ago and took up painting so I could spend more time in the surf," a laconic Mike Doyle drawled. "You use it or you lose it."
L. J. Richards confided he worked as a fireman which gave him ample time to surf his favourite break, Trestles in southern California, while 64-year-old Cabell was a regular in his home breaks in Hawaii.
When they hit the water, it was clear from the outset that time had done little to diminish the old magic. Even Mick Dooley, who apologised before the event that a bad back had prevented him surfing much in recent years, had the crowd cheering.
The Americans were on fire. Richards and Doyle were flying across gutless sections, extracting speed normally not available to ordinary surfers, while 64-year-old Joey "the Giselle" Cabell milked everything in sight.
But it was Midget Farrelly who stole the show and left no doubt about his status as a world champion. Athletic and graceful, he surfed with precision and power. The 1963 Makaha champion, 1964 world champion and 1970 world title runner-up, walked out of the surf with a grin from ear to ear, magnanimously proclaiming all five as champions.
Minutes earlier, all five had taken off on the same wave and surfed it to the beach.
"That was fun," he said. "We're all friends and we are long past the point of having to prove anything to anyone."
Surfing, he said, still held the same fascination, the same magic it promised all those years ago.
"I don't feel any different from a little kid getting into the water for the first time and experiencing the satellite waves and the thrill of the whole thing. That's a feeling I want to have."
Had it been a good life? Did he feel blessed? He was only half way there, he said, as a grin creased his face.
"At the end of it you might say you're lucky. I'll decide that when I'm sitting up in a bed with a drip feed into me, I'll decide then," he laughed.
© 1999 Sydney Morning Herald