Joel Tudor and the Flying Takayama

By Ken Lewis

It was late Summer 1990 and I was working at a Pacific Beach Surf Shop. Out front, the pier was looking really fun and I was getting ready to go for a surf. Joel Tudor called and asked if I could pick him up from his house in University City so he could come down and surf with us. Joel was the local longboard phenom and we got to know him from the local longboard contests, he was a real good kid, and I mean kid, as he was only 13 or 14 at the time. If I remember right it was around the time of the ASR trade show because Nat Young and his son Beau were staying at the Crystal Pier cottages. 

I had just started driving as I didn't need a car growing up at the beach, but i graduated the year before and it was time to branch out and stop asking for rides. My car was a $900 Toyota Celica Two-door in Shit brown with a skylight. I could fit a shortboard in the passenger seat, but anything loner than a 7' board had to go on the roof racks. I had one soft rack but couldn't find the other. Where the other one went, I never did know. regardless, I made my way towards UC to get the boy-wonder.

As I got to Joel’s house, we organized and I started to put his almost-new Takayama nose rider onto the aforementioned soft rack atop my shit-box. I got his board all strapped up and I told Joel to hop in. He looked at me and asked “where’s the other rack?” I told him not to be a pussy and his board was going to be “safe and sound,” he did not have the confidence in me, nor did I, but my frontal cortex had not yet developed and I knew no fear. Off we went.

As we hit the onramp to the I-52 west bound, his board began to move a bit and by “move a bit,” I mean it was bouncing around and starting to levitate. Just then I heard Joel say, “Hey dude I think we should slow down, it looks sketchy.” I looked at him with disapproval and pushed the pedal a bit harder as I told him how this rack was solid and I’ve driven to Oceanside like this. Just as the words left my lips, I heard Joel yell, “THERE IT GOES!!”

My turd-brown Celica had a rusted out sunroof and through a hole in the metal I could see it go from dark to daylight. In the rearview mirror I watched in horror as his prized hand-shaped Takayama was in full flight as it hovered further skyward. I instantly hit the breaks, way too hard i may add, and we began to skid going 65mph and ended up doing a full 180 degree spin on the freeway, ending up facing on-coming traffic.

More than a few “Oh shits” were screamed as we skidded to a halt and I hastily pulled the car over to the shoulder before this shit show got any worse. We looked at each other with terrified faces and then began to laugh hysterically. Not because it was funny, but because we were happy to be alive. Ok, maybe it was a little funny. Once we calmed down a bit we looked for his board and saw that it was laying in the number-two lane of the 52 Freeway. I dashed out between passing cars and grabbed the board before it was run over and I returned to the safety of the freeway ice plant. I assured Joel that the board looked fine, but upon further notice one could see that there was a little rail shatter. Minor! oh, no, wait... there was a bit more upon further inspection. The fin looks a little cracked too. Is that a buckle? Oh shit.

With the soft-rack busted and gone, I stuffed the board into my car hanging 4 feet out the window and and we started to head for Crystal Pier once again. We got to the pier and surfed for a few hours, Joel on his once pristine board that was now taking in water but he still surfed as good as ever on it. As we finished up the session, we talked for a bit in the shop parking lot with the guys and then loaded up for the ride back to Joels parents house. 

The Aftermath

On the drive back to his house, I was thinking of how pissed his dad Joe was going to be. Papa Joe was a bit intimidating to say the least. I was hoping his mom Denise was going to be there because she was always the coolest and Im sure she would protect me from the beating Joe might dish out.

Just as I was contemplating my fate, I hear the sound of a siren. To make my day that much shittier, I got pulled over for having that extra four feet of board sticking out of my car. I pled my case and explained how we almost died and I spun out and how I’m a good guy but the cop wasn’t buying it. My failure was complete.

I signed the ticket and finished the drive of shame to Joel’s house. I almost contemplated dropping him off down the block so I could escape without injury or possible death at the hands of his dad. I pulled into the driveway and soon Joel was explaining the situation to his mom and she spoke to a visibly upset Joe.

Since I almost killed Joel, ruined his board and apparently was a terrible driver who received a moving violation, I figured I shouldn’t pick up Joel anymore. Even if I wanted to, I’m pretty sure Joe would have forbid Joel from riding in my whip ever again. After that day I would only see Joel when he came down with someone else or if I was road tripping up to Cardiff.

Sorry Joel.