Like his uncle 30 years earlier, Keating defied expectations upon his return from the Islands. He had seen so much and learned so much that nothing would ever be the same. For starters, he had to tell O'Neill that he wasn't going to ride his D.K. Delite model surfboard because it was a longboard. O'Neill had just introduced the model, so they weren't so stoked at the time.

Just like now, the North Shore was a proving ground for new ideas, and the biggest thing in surfing since the introduction of the fin was the shortboard. Keating immediately recognized the performance possibilities and dove into his dockside shaping room upon his return to the mainland. He chopped all of his longboards into shortboards, playing with length, volume, outline, rail shape, vee, and fins. Within months he was riding boards under 6' and doing 360s all over the place. The shortboard revolution was a heady, creative period that challenged all preconceptions about wave riding. Even today, at 58 years old, he still rides a true shortboard whenever there is enough juice. He told me, "I only ride a longboard when it's weak or in a longboard contest."

By shortboard, he doesn't mean a 7'6" fun shape either. He means a 6'5" or 6'8" (of similar dimensions to what Sunny Garcia would ride) for waves over 3'. If its under 3'and there isn't a contest he needs to surf in, he's probably out fishing instead.

At the same time he was whittling his boards down, just a few miles to the north, a cultural revolution was taking place in the Haight-Ashbury that would transform popular culture worldwide, including surfing, in profound, often spiritual ways. Competition was out. Soul was in. Pacifica's rootless commuter families, steeped in materialism and middle-class values, were often torn apart by conflicting philosophies or devastated by drugs. The Keatings, particularly the younger Dick Keating seemed grounded in nature, the rhythms of the fishing seasons, and from his play in the sea. By 1968, he was perhaps one of the most eligible bachelors on the North Coast. He lived in the main house on the boat dock, ran the dock, and was still the most respected surfer and shaper in Northern California. Good looking, with a sense humor and a fistful of marketable skills, girls lined up to attend the barbeque parties that took place regularly on the decks overlooking the water at his house.

Dick met a local girl, Penny West, at Birdleg's wedding and invited her over for a barbecue. She was impressed by the way he lived. As she told me, "He got me out playing on a surf mat in front of his house before he served me an abalone dinner."

She happily admitted, "I didn't know then, but I was hooked."

When Dick's friend couldn't housesit and take care of his dogs while he was on an extended surf/movie shoot in Mexico, the friend asked Penny if she could help out. Already enamored by the wonderful experience she'd just had, it was an offer she couldn't refuse. She's been there ever since.

The film, The Natural Art, by Fred Windisch was a good surf movie trapped inside a lengthy psychedelic experimental art flick. The late Windisch, and acknowledged eccentric, was also a bit of a visionary, capturing some very forward looking and visually exciting surfing. The most memorable piece is the opening scene of D.K. doing four complete 360s in the tube on a 5' flawless wave at Cojo. D.K.'s surfing is featured throughout the water sequences, but of note as well, is rare footage of Nat Young at Haleiwa in one of his first true shortboard performances in Hawaii. Much of the rest of the film is throbbing psychedelia and colorful hippy schlock that may tempt you to hit the fast forward to the next exceptional surfing sequence if you can find a copy of this rare oddball piece at all.

Returned from the film trip, he found Penny had kept everything under control and in apple pie order. A very comfortable relationship quickly developed between them, and she accompanied him to Kauai's Hanalei Bay for the winter where they stayed in a VW bus, surfed, dove, lived by their wits, and eventually got married. Aside from the getting married part, they spent every winter at Hanalei for the next decade doing pretty much the same thing. While in the summers they ran the boat docks, fished the salmon run, saved their shekels, and bolted back to Kauai at the first hint of a northwest well. They spent anywhere from 3 weeks up to 9 months every year at Hanalei. They collected puka shells, made handicrafts, fished and dove for food, did carpentry, expanded their repertoire of survival skills, and ended up becoming welcome members of the community there. Though less frequent in recent years, the Keatings still go back to visit their friends for extended periods.

The couple had two lovely daughters during these many sojourns, first Shona, now 29, and later Camille, 22. Both young women surf, dive, fish, and love the ocean. Shona especially got loads of warm-water adventures on Kauai, learning to dive and snorkel practically before she could walk. Camille came along at a time when the annual trips to the Islands began to slow down due to the greater costs with two kids. But, with the ocean as your front yard, Camille, and the whole family still log plenty of water time.