Andrew Kidman

It was a typical summer Sunday at Warriewood Beach. The midday sun blazed down as the northerly airstream ripped across the surface of the ocean, anointing the air with the coolness of the sea.

Caleb despised taking the bus because he felt uncomfortable around other human beings. He preferred to walk home and daydream about the things he found in nature than deal with the incessant randomness of personalities.

This ain’t Da Bull at Makaha, Greenough at the Indicator outside the real Rincon. By now the thing is waist high, and I’m surfing it as a furious intermediate—at best.

I looked at the prayer flags. The wind blowing from the mountains flicked them gently. ‘You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows,’* I said to myself.

Wayne Deane sat for this interview with me in 2006. We were working together a bit then: he was glassing, sanding, and making the fins for a small run of surfboards I'd shaped for customers that featured Mark Sutherland's ‘Dream’ artwork.

Riding a pushie around the quiet, suburban streets of the Northern Beaches of Sydney in the early Eighties was a kid’s dream. There were no cops, no helmets, and there was none of the entitlement that comes with today’s giant SUV’s that choke the roadways in Australia.

Blakey called me and said, ‘Joel Parkinson wants to come out and shape a board with you. We want to run it as the lead feature in the design issue. It was early September 2010, and at the time Joel was in physical rehabilitation.

I’d like to dedicate this post to my mate, Kirk Gee, who first published this material.  A true believer. Rest in Peace, brother. — Andrew Kidman

There was no music in the house, just the constant hum of the ocean. Their home was built atop a cliff that reared out of the Tasman Sea on the Northern Beaches of Sydney.

During the late 1970s and early 1980s, Cheyne Horan garnered acclaim as the messiah of a 'New Surfing' in a feature article by SURFING Magazine. Andrew Kidman engages in a rare interview with surfing visionary Cheyne Horan about surfing's evolution.

I wrote this book some years ago when I got sober. It was the first time I was able to write about the past with clarity. It’s a story about a boy that plays with flowers and can look into the sun without going blind. This is Chapter One.

Andrew Kidman shares a personal philosophy of tending to sacred flames while exploring the profound connection between fire, trees, and the echoes of nature.

Join Andrew Kidman on a South African escapade with Derek Hynd back in 1995. Along the way, you’ll be privy to the squirrel’s nest of surprises that arise from hanging out with Hynd.

In 2012, I wandered into the Valla Surfboard Factory in Nambucca Heads and was struck with those same tinfoil emotions Warhol had been struck by whilst having his hair cut in Name’s apartment in 1959.

Andrew Kidman on Terry Fitzgerald's innovative Hot Buttered Skateboards.