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Wetsuit |
 The Largest Surfing EncyclopediaA-Z: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Advertisement
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Typically made of a synthetic rubber called neoprene, wetsuits are worn by surfers for protection from the oft-chilly waters in which they plunge for pleasure. Contrary to what people in Nebraska think, the suits do not work by keeping the surfer dry, but are instead designed to let water in. The water is then trapped between surfer and suit and subsequently warmed by body heat and, when nature calls, pee-pee.
Cut and thickness vary for season and locales. For example, a 2mm springsuit -- covering the body from the knees to the elbows -- would suffice in the California autumn. However, Northeasterners braving New Jersey in winter would want a 5mm fullsuit -- covering the entire body -- augmented by neoprene booties, gloves, a hood and serious chutzpah. There was a time when wetsuits didn't exist. Certainly the Hawaiians had no use for them in their perpetual summer. But once the sport was exported to California, surfers faced a sometimes-frigid Pacific and resigned to freeze for the cause. As we migrated north from sunny Malibuto point-laden Santa Barbara and reef-rich Santa Cruz, the need for insulation took on urgency. Surfers prepped for the frigid seas with frantic, almost tribal dances around beach fires, some taking to the water in wool sweaters (occasionally soaked in oil) and/or clunky, immobilizing scuba suits -- anything to stave off impending numbness. Waveriding was commonly conservative; the rational being that not falling and thus staying dry was paramount to get radical. Enter Jack O'Neill, an inventive San Franciscan and window salesman by trade whose unwillingness to freeze his nuts off would revolutionize watergoing. Following numerous aborted stabs at a functional, mobile suit, O'Neill found himself aboard a DC-3 passenger plane, studying aisles lined with a peculiar rubber-like substance: neoprene. O'Neill quickly ordered heaps of the stuff, began hand sewing it together and, in 1952, started up San Francisco's first surf shop along its Great Highway. Sales were brisker than the afternoon onshore winds that churned Ocean Beach. Later, he took to the road to market his invention, setting up ice-filled tanks in which he'd submerse his kids for hours to get the point across. Onlookers were stunned and overnight surfing became a year-round affair. O'Neill later moved his headquarters south to Santa Cruz, where both remain today. The wetsuit has undergone a slow but steady evolution since those days. Rolled edges made entry easier, zigzag stitching lessened tears and softer rubbers meant greater mobility. One peculiar phenomenon, still joked about even now, was the '70s Beaver Tail-style suit that had a large flap affixed to the suit's lower back wrapped under the crotch and secured in front. Designed to hold the suit in place, the innovation didn't really work and surfers took to letting the slab dangle. Classic surf pics show the tail flapping about in genuine slapstick fashion as longhaired riders flew down the line on paisley pocket rockets. The '80s introduction of colored neoprene, corresponding with the pursuit's commercial boom, brought on the dreaded Day-Glo suits, which, like the Beaver Tail, are the punch line of many a surf joke. Lineups were a Technicolor nightmare, littered with shocking pinks, neon blues, offensive yellows and lipstick reds. Hard-core folk shunned the fad and adopted the black suit as their accepted water attire -- a generational and cultural gap that endures even now. Of particular note from this period is Aussie Mark Occhilupo's dog-dick pink Peak suits, a tragic inspiration for grommets the world over. The '80s also saw the introduction of so-called "smooth skin" or "smoothie", a softer, less porous neoprene that better protected against biting wind and allowed for even greater mobility -- something crucial in an era of neck snaps, arms flaps and spray checks. Diversification has meant competition, and competition ensures a constant race toward the perfect suit. Today, dozens of wetsuit makers (Rip Curl, O'Neill, Hotline, Quiksilver, Billabong, etc.) vie for the surfer's dollar, each boasting supposed breakthroughs with every new line rolled out. Body Glove's initial go at a "zipperless" suit, then two individual pieces of neoprene that overlapped one another, was something of a hoax, but subsequent, one-piece versions have proven unthinkably liberating if really hard to put on. Even softer, lighter, stretchier rubber offshoots have lessened the straitjacket factor for thick suits, forcing a resketching of the global surf map. Once-too-damn-cold destinations are being explored with confidence: Alaska, Iceland, Russia, Norway and, yes, Antarctica -- where even the penguins shiver at times. All this because a humble window hawker from San Francisco was tired of feeling his manhood shrivel to the size of a rice grain. Thanks, Jack. -- Greg Heller, October 2000
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