Malibu’s famous Surfrider Beach was the birthplace of modern surfing, and witnessed important moments in Chumash, Spanish & American history

Added to the National Register of Historic Places on January 29, 2018

The beach city of Malibu is a mythology as much as a place. It’s an idyllic spot at the far western edge of America, where manifest destiny ends and Los Angeles disappears into the sea. It’s that liminal space between land and water, civilization and nature, where you can witness the tough love of mother nature in action – she gives us stunning vistas and perfect weather, then punishes us with wildfires and mudslides. In Malibu, you can get a ringside view of the death of the sun every day. And of course the view is even better from the nosebleed seats atop the Santa Monica Mountains, where you can smell the money intermingling with the salt air. 

I love all the contradictions of Malibu. How billionaires and penniless beach bums and teenagers halfway across the world that have never even been to Malibu can all be drawn to it. How it represents something totally different to surfers vs. bikers, affluent homeowners vs. middle-class folks, tourists vs. locals, the young vs. the old. It’s been a fulcrum for debates about conservation and eminent domain; more than a century after the Rindge family failed in their mission to keep Malibu’s beaches to themselves, the battle of public access vs. private ownership continues to rage on. 

Put another way, my vision of Malibu is a little more Hole (“Cry to the angels / And let them swallow you / Go and part the sea, yeah, in Malibu”) than Miley Cyrus (“It’s a brand new start / A dream come true / In Malibu”).

So let’s get down to the story of this multifaceted place. While present-day Malibu encompasses a 21-mile stretch of coastline, the “Malibu Historic District” that’s listed by the National Register of Historic Places is a much smaller segment, a 160-acre parcel that stretches from the western edge of Malibu Lagoon State Beach, through the three famous breaks of Surfrider Beach, and on to the Malibu Pier. 

Archaeological evidence shows that this part of Malibu was inhabited by the Chumash as far back as 7000 years ago. They settled right next to the Malibu lagoon at a site they called Humaliwo – which translates as “the surf sounds loudly.” Humaliwo was one of a number of indigenous sites in the area; the Chumash there were also connected with the village of Ta’lopop just up Malibu Canyon, and a number of other aboriginal villages along the coast (BTW – Humaliwo is separately listed on the National Register of Historic Places, but it’s restricted to the public…so no visits for me until I become a professional archaeologist).

The first European to encounter Malibu was Spanish explorer Juan Cabrillo, who moored at Humaliwo in 1542 (though some historians argue it was actually further north, in Ventura) during his famous expedition up the Pacific coast. Cabrillo described the stopping point as “Pueblo de las Canoas” in reference to all the Chumash canoes that visited his ship. 

It would be another 200+ years before the Spanish would again make their presence known in Malibu. Between 1772 and 1804, they built five missions in Chumash territory; by about 1805,  the settlement was abandoned, and all of Humaliwo’s native residents had left for Mission San Fernando Rey de España (see Etan Does LA visit #17) or Mission San Buenaventura. 

Fast forward 125 years, and we get to the most iconic building you’ll encounter in the Malibu Historic District: the Adamson House, a 1929 residence designed by Stiles O. Clements (the architect responsible for the El Capitan, Mayan and Wiltern theaters, the demolished Richfield Tower, and the “swim gym” at Beverly Hills High School, featured in It’s a Wonderful Life). The Adamson House is separately listed on the NRHP, and I’ll offer a more extensive history in a future post. But just know that Rhoda and Merritt Adamson were the daughter and son-in-law of the aforementioned Frederick and Rhoda May Rindge, the last private owners of the land that would become Malibu. It is a remarkable home, clad in tile that was made just down PCH at Malibu Potteries, a respected tile manufacturing company founded by Rhoda.

Fascinating as the Malibu stories of the Chumash, Spanish and Rindge/Adamsons are, they don’t actually play into why the Malibu Historic District is listed on the National Register. For that, we look to the period between 1945 and 1959, when Malibu made its mark as the epicenter of surfing technology and culture.

In the late ‘40s, LA-based weirdo genius and surfing nut Bob Simmons applied his engineering know-how, and the results of some recent studies in planing hulls, into building a better surfboard. His innovations in both the shape and materials used in a board helped surfers achieve longer, faster, more responsive rides; he was tinkering with foil, nose-lift, concaves, dual-fin systems and more engineering variables that nobody else had considered. Also on the scene in the late ‘40s and ‘50s was Dale Velzy, a “shaper” who opened what’s said to be the first surf shop in the ‘50s. Velzy helped develop popular boards like the Pig and the Malibu Chip, a smaller, lighter board that allowed for greater maneuverability; by the late ‘50s, Velzy was manufacturing more surfboards than anyone else. Both Simmons and Velzy were regular presences at Malibu, and tested out some of their prototypes there.

Surfing was still an underground culture in the mid-‘50s. Malibu had become a bit more accessible after the Rindge/Adamson family started to (begrudgingly) sell off its land, mostly to Hollywood elite, and a small coterie of surf enthusiasts with names like “The Black Knight,” “Tubesteak” and “Moondoggie” spent their days (and many of their nights) on Surfrider Beach, burning tires for warmth, conning movie stars at industry parties for money, and developing a vocabulary all their own. 

If you were really jazzed on surfing, you were ‘stoked.’ Surfers were ‘doggies in the water.’ A great day: ‘You had the place wired.’ Once, when Mexican workers cleaning walls with garden hoes called them ‘Daddy-o!,’ Tubesteak called back, ‘*Hoe-*dad!,’ and later the term ‘hodad’ came to mean a disruptive Valley biker.

–Vanity Fair quoting Bill Jensen, one of the o.g. Malibums

Part of that coterie was Kathy Kohner, the 15-year-old daughter of Austrian-born screenwriter Frederick Kohner. One day in 1956 she asked the “‘Bu guys” to teach her to surf, and brought them peanut butter and radish sandwiches as an offering. “Thanks, Gidget,” replied one of the surfers. “Gidget” was another one of Tubesteak’s inventions, a portmanteau of “Girl” and “midget.” A year later, Kathy’s dad published a book about her experiences called Gidget, the Little Girl with Big Ideas, and in 1959 the movie version came out. The release of the first Gidget movie was the end point of that early, pioneering era of Malibu’s surfing history. In the years that followed, the Beach Boys, Surfaris and Frankie & Annette would propel surfing culture into a mainstream, national fad.

The Malibu Historic District was officially listed by the National Register in 2018, after a successful nomination written by Michael Blum of the non-profit Sea of Clouds organization. The addition was notable for a couple reasons. First off, it is the only one of the NRHP’s ~95,000 listed sites that relates to surfing. Second, it represents the first time that Malibu received state and federal protection based on its historic and cultural significance, rather than environmental and conservation considerations.

As the crow flies, the Malibu Historic District is only about half a mile wide. But there’s a whole lot of history to unpack in that small area. Walking down to the end of the Malibu Pier at midday, staring out at the glittering horizon, you can get a sense of why people have been coming here for thousands of years.

Sources & Recommended Reading

+Iconic Malibu Surfing Area Added to National Register of Historic Places (Sea of Clouds, 2018)

+First Steps at First Point: Protecting California Surf Breaks and the Malibu Historic District (Blum & Orbach, 2021)

+Malibu Legacy Park Project Environmental Impact Report. Chapter 3D: Archaeological Resources (January 2009 – PDF)

+Humaliwo: An Ethnographic Overview of the Chumash in Malibu

+Malibu’s Lost Boys (Vanity Fair, 2006)

+Bob Simmons (1919-1954)(Legendary Surfers)

+The History of Surfboard Design: Bob Simmons’ Planing Hull (“The Spoon”)(Surf Simply)