I moved to Encinitas in the summer of 1970 and was quickly driven to D Street by the soon-to-be-famous big-wave rider Ken Bradshaw.
I remember the wave offering quick, crisp peaks and soon found that it was then, as it is now, one of the premier North County beach breaks, working best from June through September.
It seems the seasons were more pronounced then, and swell directions switched as predictably as the calendar, by fall switching from south to north, removing sandbars as if by conveyor belt. The annual sand migration left D Street closed while bringing Swami’s reef to life.
I knew none of that, however, when, in the aforementioned summer, I ran down the dusty bluff to meet a small group of surfers at the base of the cliff. That day we surfed, talked story and contemplated the fate of the big wooden house above us whose balcony hung precariously over the edge.
The place was affectionately known as “The Hanger,” and some of our town’s best surfers: Dean Redfield, David Cunnison, Gary the Giant, Ryan Dotson, Greg Tucker, and Gary Stuber and his wife, Maryann, and two kids lived there in a world a million miles from the coming yuppie invasion that has never ceased.
I never did enter that house, but it looked massive from the outside. The smell of resin wafted from it, for it was there that the underground surfboard label “Black Dot” enjoyed its brief life. The boards were exceptionally well crafted, with nothing but a black dot decorating the deck. To my recollection, there were no other words or symbols on them.
The Hanger was soon condemned, and even though the residents approached San Diego City Hall to save it, it went the way of all things old in Encinitas. Probably just as well in this case since the place seemed ready to plunge into the mighty Pacific at any moment.
Years later, I would ask Gary Stuber about the Hanger. Then, he would smile knowingly and tell about walking out onto the balcony once to check the surf when his foot fell through the floor.
Stuber later moved on to Sunset Surfboards, where he quickly earned the title of “lam (laminating) master.”
Once Sunset quit making surfboards, Gary joined Peter “Pinline” St. Pierre, Kenny “Tumbleweed” Mann and perhaps the area’s best surfing sexagenarian, Mark Donnellan, to create the business known as Moonlight Surfboards. Others, like super shaper Gary “GH” Hanel, would soon be welcomed into the fold.
If you’ve been surfing for a while and have ever ridden the Channel Islands, Campbell Brothers, GH or Josh Hall surfboard, Gary Stuber probably glassed it.
He has glassed Bonzers, Fishes, Eggs, finless boards, four-finned boards, longboards, channel bottoms, wingers, stingers, and boards without stringers, beginning the complicated process of turning a foam sculpture into a durable (after all, some of these boards would have to hold up in 20-foot surf) piece of art.
There’s not enough space here to write about Gary as a surfer, but he always rivaled the best in the lineup and would have undoubtedly been better if he had not put his wife and children first.
Nonetheless, Gary Stuber is a surfing legend. Being humble requires that others have to speak about him rather than himself.
Last Saturday, about 50 well-wishers and I helped Gary celebrate his 80th birthday. Upon driving home, visions of the Hanger danced in my head, and I contemplated a master craftsman, a good friend, a family man and a surfing legend.
Happy birthday, Gary Stuber. Thanks, love and blessings from all of us.
