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My dad was a really good surfer, and by the time I was 10, he was dragging me out on some good days at Bells. I'd reckon they were solid, 6-foot days, and he'd tell me to wait on the shoulder. I'd see him coming through the barrel, and he'd just scream at me to go. I'd drop in, and he'd give me a hoot from behind - I've always loved it.

I grew up surfing. My dad probably put me on a surfboard before I could walk.

Growing up, I used to go to an inlet to lay out and try to meet all the surfer guys.

I'm a surfer at heart. Both my parents moved to Hawaii in the 1970s, where they met and became Christians. Then they taught me and my two brothers how to love the Lord - and how to surf!

I'm a surfer. I grew up in Southern California and used to surf twice a day, every day.

I'm actually a very bad surfer, which is good because everybody likes a bad surfer. Nobody likes a good surfer.

I am a surfer, though quite a poor one.

I became third in the U.S. as a junior pro surfer.

That was my dream, to compete against the best surfers in the best waves. But as a kid, it all seemed so unattainable. It was this big dream, but deep down I never thought it could really happen. But my parents always believed I could do it, and they helped me get through all the stages and take all the right steps.

I'm a pretty basic surfer.