THE ENVIRONMENTALIST, THE SHAPER, THE FILMMAKER, THE INTELLECTUAL, THE METAL-HEAD & THE AUSSIE CHAMP
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Welcome
to the weird and wonderful world of the Webbers THE ENVIRONMENTALIST, THE SHAPER, THE FILMMAKER, THE INTELLECTUAL, THE METAL-HEAD & THE AUSSIE CHAMP |
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| People warned me I was crazy. Maybe
I should have listened. To gather together the entire
Webber clan and attempt to interview them sounds - with
the invaluable benefit of hindsight - like madness. But
the untold story of their extraordinary childhood in
Sydney's eastern suburbs, their raucous surf adventures
in ever widening orbits, and their amazing, divergent yet
intertwined paths since, is irresistible. From the early
'70s scene at Bondi, to early surf trips to Angourie,
Lord Howe and Grajagan, and an ever-expanding catalogue
of stunning creative endeavours, the Webber Brothers'
story practically mirrors the evolution of Australian
surf culture. If you could harness the combined creative energy of the Webbers you could light tip a small city. To witness a gathering of all six of the surfing siblings is a rare and hilarious event. The venue is eldest brother John's historic Angourie beach house, built by Tracks cofounder John Witzig. The dilapidated timber structure nestles in the coastal scrub like an overgrown kid's cubbyhouse, and the Webbers infect it with a fitting boyish, mischievous energy. The walls reek with surfing history, from the snapshots of memorable days at the point thumb tacked to bare wooden beams, to the mass of old surfboards stuck at odd angles in the branches of the paperbacks in the backyard. To see them together, it's hard to believe they're related - such are the vast physical and lifestyle differences between them -but there's a warmth underpinned with simmering tensions only brothers can generate. There's John, 44, the elder, the environmental architect, who's led the spectacularly successful re-vegetation of Angourie's foreshore through the local Dune care group, ridding it of the accursed, introduced Bitou bush and cramming it full of native trees. There's Greg, 43, the shaper to the stars - from Barton Lynch to Shane Herring to Taj Burrow - with that cheeky chipped tooth grin, and as many outlandish and complex theories on life and the universe asyou have time to sit through. There's Monty, 41, the bearded, avant-garde surf filmmaker, with a maniacal thirst for creative adventure, like a surfing cinematic Hunter S. Thompson. Then there's Dan, 38, the unknown Webber, the Clark Kent, mild-mannered, immaculately groomed, bespectacled, polite, well-spoken, a linguist by training, but who transforms Superman-style into the fearless "Barometer" in heavy waves, sent out first to see if it's rideable. Then there's the two youngsters, Will, 33, and Ben, 31, always spoken of together, like the flowerpot men, who could have been perpetually trapped in the shadows of their larger than life brethren. Yet they are arguably the most accomplished surfers of the lot, at least competitively. Separated by five years from their next oldest brother, they were born into a different era, after the hippy idealism and carefree adventure gave way to serious pro career ambitions. Will collected a swag of respectable placings in the old APSA events, and Ben notched up an Aussie title, and they both gave the pro tour a nudge, before the domestic circuit collapsed under them. Like a whole generation of aspiring Australian pro surfers, they were left without a stepping-stone to the big league, and wound up shaping, as if joining the family business. They've dabbled in an impressive string of enterprises since - surf shops, wax, hard-core metal bands. Will's touring seriously with latest band Toe 2 Toe. Ben's dossing down temporarily in the shack out the front of John's place and working hard to support two young daughters. The brothers are excited. We've had a surf out the Point in abysmal, howling southerly lumps. A mass of sausages and a carton of throwdowns have been purchased, and it's barely midday when the first twist top elicits that familiar 'Ussshhhhhhhhhhhh." "Thanks for this. We haven't had a beer together for ages," says Will keenly. By the time the sun goes down, it will become clear why.
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