When I saw the first published shot of Donald Takayama in Surfer Magazine in 1962 or 63 it said it all - It was a screaming left bowl, probably Ala Moana in Wiakiki - the shot was deep-etched, meaning the blacks were very black and the whites very white - high contrast. His long hair (for the time) was blown back, he was crouched but head upright, a distinctive Donald trait. The wind was howling offshore, whipping a mane off the wave. He was in the critical position, howling.

That photo told me this was one wild, funny, out-there character. It also told me the south side of Oahu was as alluring as the North Shore, in it's season. 

This wild little critter soon popped up in Surfer as a shaper for Jacobs, and he was always the little guy on the edge of the team line-up shot. Radical again. Donald was becoming a cult hero to us hard-core Aussie surfers of the mid sixties… never over-exposed, always a bit mysterious. When he appeared in a Jacobs ad with Mike Doyle's six foot tall beautiful girlfriend DT was so comical beside her. We loved his humility and humour.

A long pause. DT resurfaced with Joel Tudor in the Nineties, as the guru of the log. Whoopee!! There's no doubt his logging designs are standout, and lead the Californian resurgence.

When he rocked into our factory ten years ago, it was laughs laughs laughs. The joker. We connected often after that, and were very sad when his immigration application was knocked back. Yep, he wanted to move here to Byron. His second choice was the Hawaiian island of Molakai, so he designed and built a house for there, collapsed it into some containers and shipped it. Radical move.

But he ended up still in So Cal, as his wife's health was sketchy. I received a video email from him just weeks ago, and there was this cheery cheeky little Hawaiian shaper, wishing me well, knowing I was his Aussie counterpart. My mate DT. Donald. Takayama. Tak  Tunnelling his way to the future. 

All of us here are upset. We wish the best for his family and friends everywhere through this sad period…

Bob