And so a heart attack seals the complex and sobering tale of
a paranoid schizophrenic and former drug addict who was the Australian shark of
mid-1970s competitive surfing, a shy, dusky demigod who hadn’t ridden a wave
since 1982. A year later he would be jailed, institutionalized, shock-therapied,
and eventually fall under the home care of his mother. Three decades on, the
man at 59, we would sadly say goodbye to Michael Peterson.
“He was the most naturally gifted
surfboard rider Australia ever produced,” said Wayne “Rabbit” Bartholomew, a
lifelong friend of Peterson’s. “His surfing was fast and frenetic. He pioneered
deep tuberiding at Kirra. He was an innovative shaper, designer, and a master
strategist. His paddling prowess was legendary, as was his psyche.”
“There was so much energy in his surfing,”
close friend Andrew Mckinnon said. “You couldn’t help but be inspired.”
On land, Peterson was vague and
elusive. In the water, he was a fiery force of nature, intimidating and lighting-quick,
a lord of the barrel, an anomaly in a range of elites that included 1976 world
champion Peter Townend. Their lives had been intertwined since the mid-1960s, when
they started out in the Tweed Heads/Coolangatta clubbies at Greenmount Point.
A month before Peterson’s March 29
passing, Townend shared a beer with him.
“I went down to visit Michael with
Rabbit and Andrew Mckinnon. We were all members of the ‘72 Aussie team to San
Diego. We had (Larry) Bertlemann with us, too. We had a beer and talked about old
times. Michael was in great spirits.”
“I was on the verge of tears,” Fanning
said. “I just sat out the back before the Final and just took in the whole
crowd.”
Many felt that it was fitting a
new-school Cooly Kid would ring the bell.
“They not only broke the mold with Michael Peterson,” Bartholomew said, “there will simply never be another like him.”