Pittwater Life November 2020 Issue
FEARS FOR ‘COVID AMBASSADORS’ 1980 FLASHBACK: REMEMBERING THE FIRST AVALON VILLAGE FAIR SWELL CHASER: HOW TIM BONYTHON BECAME A BIG WAVE FILM MAKER LATEST COUNCIL NEWS / SUMMER SAILING / SEEN... HEARD... ABSURD...
FEARS FOR ‘COVID AMBASSADORS’
1980 FLASHBACK: REMEMBERING THE FIRST AVALON VILLAGE FAIR
SWELL CHASER: HOW TIM BONYTHON BECAME A BIG WAVE FILM MAKER
LATEST COUNCIL NEWS / SUMMER SAILING / SEEN... HEARD... ABSURD...
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swamp and I remember as a kid there was<br />
a property owner running around on a<br />
horse, a stockman with a stock whip who<br />
chased us off his property a few times.”<br />
They later moved to the Adelaide Hills<br />
and for a time lived in a magnificent<br />
160-year-old house at Mount Lofty owned<br />
by his grandmother.<br />
The Creative Bug<br />
By the time he was 12, the family had<br />
moved to Sydney where his father opened<br />
the Hungry Horse Gallery in Paddington<br />
and Tim was attending Cranbrook School<br />
in Bellevue Hill, where he met well-known<br />
shaper Greg Webber and his brothers, who<br />
in those days were Bondi locals.<br />
“Because of all the creative things going<br />
on around me when I went to Cranbrook, I<br />
was trying to create things I could sell and<br />
make money out of. I saw opportunities<br />
all around me,” he says. “And we were<br />
hanging out a lot with the Laws family,<br />
John and Caroline, because John and dad<br />
were good friends.<br />
“John had a Super 8 movie camera<br />
sitting on the floor and I kept on eyeing it<br />
off for many, many months and I said ‘hey<br />
John I’ve seen that movie camera on the<br />
floor, any chance I can borrow it?’<br />
“He looked at me and said, ‘you know<br />
what, I don’t use it so if you can put it to<br />
good use you can have it.”<br />
From that point on Tim started shooting<br />
Super 8 footage, partly inspired by the<br />
Webber boys who were making films of<br />
their own. “So that was the beginning of<br />
my film career.”<br />
A business model born<br />
By 1981 Tim was back in Adelaide,<br />
working as a DJ. “I was still shooting<br />
surfing on the Yorke Peninsula and a few<br />
other spots for the fun of it,” says Tim.<br />
“Then I hit up a guy by the name of Peter<br />
Victorsen – his nickname was Punk –<br />
who owned the Top o Taps surf shop to<br />
sponsor me to go to Sydney and shoot the<br />
1981 2SM Coca-Cola Surfabout.”<br />
After some haggling Punk agreed and<br />
on the same long trip Tim made it to Bells<br />
Beach for the annual Easter comp. The<br />
timing could not have been better.<br />
The waves at Bells reached a perfect 15<br />
foot while Narrabeen’s Simon Anderson<br />
won the comp on a three-finned board<br />
known as a thruster, a revolutionary<br />
design that changed surfing.<br />
It was a seminal event – and so was the<br />
movie that resulted for Tim.<br />
“We had a line a mile long to see the<br />
film because the only way you’d see<br />
surfing in those days was a 30-second<br />
bulletin on the news,” Tim says. “I<br />
suddenly realised I could live a dream on<br />
Continued on page 38<br />
Surf’s<br />
<strong>Life</strong> Stories<br />
Up!<br />
Into his fifth decade behind the<br />
lens, Avalon film-maker Tim<br />
Bonython tells of his career<br />
documenting big wave surfing.<br />
Story by Martin Kelly<br />
CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: With surfing’s original ‘Gidget’ in<br />
Malibu; with legend Kelly Slater; back in his early DJ days; with wife<br />
and business manager Sandrine and sons Tristan and Maxim; with<br />
dad Kym; after a heavy knock, with jet ski driver Campbell Farrell.<br />
<strong>Life</strong> Stories<br />
Tim Bonython can trace his family<br />
tree back to 1370 but he very much<br />
lives in the moment, so fast it’s<br />
often hard to keep up, both with his<br />
conversation, which jumps from point to<br />
point, and movement – he’s always doing<br />
something.<br />
Later this month, Tim, a timeless<br />
showman and acclaimed surf<br />
cinematographer from Avalon, will once<br />
again be packing his bags and heading<br />
up the coast for the latest instalment<br />
of the Australian Surf Movie Festival, a<br />
moveable, changeable feast he started<br />
back in 2002.<br />
Eighteen years on, media production<br />
and consumption may be radically<br />
different – streaming, internet, mobile,<br />
COVID – but in essence the surf movie<br />
game remains the same. Entertainment.<br />
For Tim this means getting exclusive<br />
shots of the best surfers in the largest,<br />
heaviest, scariest waves possible, cutting<br />
and editing the footage before taking it<br />
out on the road.<br />
The drill is the same as it ever was: travel<br />
from surf town to surf town, promote the<br />
hell out of the product, charge a fair entry<br />
fee, set up in a local cinema, put on the<br />
show for the local crew.<br />
Then move on and do it all again,<br />
following the path laid down in the 1960s<br />
and 1970s by surf movie pioneers such as<br />
Bruce Brown, Bob Evans, Paul Witzig, Albe<br />
Falzon and others.<br />
Early days<br />
Tim’s story begins 1400km from Avalon<br />
in the city of Adelaide, where he was born<br />
61 years ago into one of the city’s bestknown<br />
families. Paternal grandfather,<br />
Sir John Lavington Bonython, was a<br />
journalist, businessman and former Lord<br />
Mayor of Adelaide. His dad Kym achieved<br />
a certain fame as a World War II squadron<br />
leader, jazz aficionado, concert promoter,<br />
entrepreneur, speedway racer, art gallery<br />
owner, politician and man about town.<br />
Tim is one of three children from<br />
Kym’s second marriage to former Miss<br />
South Australia Julie McClure, and grew<br />
up by the water in the Adelaide suburb<br />
of Tennyson, a long way from the surf<br />
towards the crook of Gulf St Vincent but<br />
right on the beach.<br />
“The front door opened onto the street<br />
but the back door straight on the beach<br />
and so I would just kinda wander out<br />
the back door and the ocean became my<br />
playground from day one,” Tim says.<br />
“Literally just half a ‘kay’ up the road<br />
was the sand hills that ran up to Largs<br />
Bay. Then on the other side was the<br />
36 NOVEMBER <strong>2020</strong><br />
The Local Voice Since 1991<br />
The Local Voice Since 1991<br />
NOVEMBER <strong>2020</strong> 37