Expat Days

When Peter Green left California for Australia in 1972, he wasn’t fleeing anything. He just never came back.
Feature

Light / Dark

Peter Green flew to Australia via Fiji and New Zealand in 1972. The Californian surfer/photographer was searching for open pastures and ended up falling in love with Broken Head in northern New South Wales. His engagement with his new environment resonated in his output from the era—deeply saturated, heavenly colors that are warmly contrasted from both land and sea.

Bob McTavish at his Lennox Head farmhouse, 1976. The surfboard-industry gears slowed each winter, allowing Bob the chance to explore his version of pal George Greenough’s kneeboard spoons.
This was our first stop as we drove north from Sydney. We were so scared of sharks that we rarely stayed in the water longer than 20 minutes. We never saw the waves like this again.

The cottage industry that was surfing in Australia in the 1970s was a tight scene and it afforded Green a nest and the employment he required to become an Australian citizen. Working as a polisher at the iconic San Juan Surfboards in Byron Bay, he became part of that burgeoning industry, moving through the ranks with designers like Bob McTavish, George Greenough, Frank Latta, Chris Brock, Ken Adler, and the small clan of surfers in the region. 

Byron Bay was a different town then, a humble fishing village with a few wave-riders. The train station served as a hub, though locals still rode their horses into town, tying them at the rail when they went in for a pint at the Northern. For Green and a few other Americans, it offered quite a contrast to Los Angeles. “The train from Sydney to Byron was an adventure in itself,” he says. “You know, coming from Southern California, it was like stepping on the tracks at ‘Frontier Land’ at Disney. We’d stop at every little railway station to drop people off or pick people up. In those days it took longer by rail from Byron to Sydney than it took on a plane to fly from L.A. to Sydney.”

Bob McTavish at his Lennox Head farmhouse, 1976. The surfboard-industry gears slowed each winter, allowing Bob the chance to explore his version of pal George Greenough’s kneeboard spoons. 
This was our first stop as we drove north from Sydney. We were so scared of sharks that we rarely stayed in the water longer than 20 minutes. We never saw the waves like this again.
The Pass at Byron Bay—the place to be in the afternoons when the wind shifted to the southeast. The town is now a giant tourist trap.
Lennox Head as seen from the old coast road. Back then, you’d just park down by the water—not exactly the case these days.

Green’s living quarters included oceanfront tents and converted cow pens. Rent for the latter ran about $4 a week. A few of his friends had a dilapidated farmhouse on Seven Mile Beach Road at similar rates. The drill was to settle in until you were broke, split and work for a few months, then return for a half-year of uninterrupted, past-oral sessions. Aside from his polishing work, Green had a job on the tugboats in Sydney Harbor so, once he was cashed up, it was back to Broken Head. 

His photography, published in Surfer, Surfing, and Surfing World magazines, also helped to line the coffers. “My dad was kind enough to give me a Nikonos I in 1968,” he says, “and all these photos were taken with that camera. I had a 35mm lens, an 80mm lens, and a fisheye attachment for my wide-angle 35mm.” 

Bob Franjose and Brian Jahn relaxing at our flat just across the street from Rainbow Bay, Gold Coast, Queensland, November 1972.
Brian Jahn at the Bob McTavish/Warren Cornish surfboard factory in the Byron Industrial Estate, December 1974. Brian did the deliveries and materials pickups in this old Ford ute, oftentimes to Sydney and back.
Gavin Huish inside Broken Head point. July 1977. Broken Head rarely gets like this. These days, on the occasions it does, there are literally hundreds of surfers scratching for them.

Green continues to reside in Lennox Head today, never decamping from the points and open spaces to return to California. “I haven’t surfed for ten years,” he says. “It would dampen my enthusiasm. I also don’t take photos anymore, not of the surf. I was attracted to it, really, because I wanted to document those beautiful, empty waves and my friends. I would be out there swimming with the Nikonos and it was so different from what I was used to in Southern California. Now there are still places with enough elbow room to have a good, free surf, but not on the pointbreaks. I don’t have that same inspiration anymore, though I am happy with everything I achieved with my photography.”

—Andrew Crockett

Lennox Head, May 1973.

[Feature image: When Green and Co. landed in Australia, they quickly found themselves in Coolangatta. Walking across the street, they were presented with this view of Rainbow Bay.]

∧Back to top