An Exerpt from Rabbits book "Bustin Down The Door"
So I joined Kirra.
My first club contest victory was at about six-foot Kirra in the cadets, or under-14s. There was Macca and myself and several other young guys and I won, surfing out the back at good-sized Kirra.
I was totally stoked and I went home and told mum (she was very proud of me), had lunch and hurried back down the beach to watch the open final.
It had already started when I got there and the organizers kept asking.
'Where's Blacky? Where's Graham Black?'
The final was under way and he was in the pub, he was the best surfer at Kirra at the time he'd already won the Queensland 'Title off Peter Drouyn and he'd won the 1969 Queensland Title at Snapper Rocks.
He was the best goofyfooter in the land of right-handers, which meant he nearly always surfed on his backhand.
Wayne Lynch was the only backsider I'd seen who was better.
They were still calling for Blacky when I saw him come out of the Kirra pub, and he had a bit of a swagger on.
He'd been in the pub for a couple of hours, which was not unusual.
As he crossed the road I went running up to him and said, 'Blacky, your final's on.' He didn't run, he just kept walking up the Point, got his contest singlet, paddled out and just blitzed them and won the final.
That was kind of mind-blowing to see and it was probably the beginnings of a proud Australian surfing tradition for ripping in the surf no matter what sort of abuse you'd inflicted on yourself.
That was the era.
I was also being wooed by Windensea, who were based up at Surfers Paradise. Windansea was like a super club.
The original Windansea club was formed in California and then some of their surfers came out to Australia and started chapters at Manly, in Sydney, and Surfers Paradise, recruiting all the big name suffers of the day
There was no money involved - just the prestige of belonging to this famous club.
In my eyes, the surfers in the Windansea club at Surfers Paradise were all superstars.
The rivalry between clubs was intense. Darryl Eastlake had become involved in Windansea and he had the gift of the gab even then, and finally convinced me to go in one of their contests.
So up I went to Surfers Paradise, where the beach breaks were thumping at about six feet.
I went in the juniors and won. I went in the new members section and won that, and because I won both those divisions, I got put in the opens and I made the final.
Here I was, this skinny, young kid from down the coast and I was in the final with Peter Drouyn, Paul and Rick Nielsen, Richard Harvey and some other huge names of the times and I got second to Drouyn.
People were just stunned. I went to the presentation and collected three huge trophies.
No one at Kirra knew anything about this and I imagined Surfers Paradise was so far away they'd never even hear about it. But of course they did find out, so I instantly had to get all my trophies and head back to Kirra and explain myself I went to the next meeting at Kirra and I had to stand there and swear black and blue that I'd never join that club.
But I had all their trophies and after much deliberation it was decided that I'd performed a brilliant ruse against our bitter rivals. I was a sensation for doing that.
Even MP thought that was really something, so I got some heavy respect for that one.
It was obvious there was no longer room for PT, MP and I in the same club.
Kirra Boardriders held its club meetings in the women's toilets of the Kirra Surf Club (because the men's toilets smelt too bad) and one night the club literally self-destructed.
You had PT and his entourage kind of running the show because they were the most organized, then you had MP and his henchmen just hanging round looking menacing, and I had my own little crew kind of hanging in the background.
MP would do things like sit in a corner all night and drink out of a bottle in a brown paper bag. He wouldn't say a word but, in effect, he'd totally dominate the meeting because we all wanted to know what was in that brown paper bag. He could be incredibly subtle. He wanted people to write him off, but there was never any alcohol in those bottles.
Finally, one night MP's crew attacked PT'S crew - all hell broke loose. One of MP's henchmen, Big Eddie, was chasing a guy called Alan Campbell around the women's toilets.
Alan tried to hide in a cubicle, but Big Eddie got a hold of him and beat the shit out of him.
PT and his entourage walked straight out, marched over to the Jungle Hut at Rainbow Bay and resurrected the Snapper Rocks Surftiders Club that night.
Me and my crew kind of tip-toed out and joined PT.
The Kirra club was left to MP and his disciples who wanted him to be president; the last thing I heard as I walked out through the smoke was someone putting forward the motion that they had to smoke joints at every meeting.
Snapper Rocks Surfriders Club had originally formed in1964 and became so popular that the Tweed Shire Council built their Sea Rescue building at Duranbah for the club.
But there was a catch: the club members had to perform patrols and even wear the surf lifesaving caps. But the patrols weren't well-attended and there was outright revolt over the wearing of caps.
Eventually, the council took the building off them and the Snapper Club fell into limbo.
When PT kick-started Snapper in '73 Terry Baker began a 10-year reign as president and it soon became one of the strongest boardriding clubs in Australia as it is to this day.