It’s a dilemma, an internal struggle that plagues Dave Rastovich. On one hand, he gets paid to do what he loves and he’s eternally grateful about that. But on the other hand, he feels guilty about it. It’s a phenomenon he and his friends call “surf prostitution,” or selling your image, your passion, your way of life for a buck. If anyone in pro surfing were to feel wrong about making money off the sport, it would be Rasta. He is, after all, the World Champion that never was, choosing instead a life of surfing, solitude, and soul-searching as opposed to the spotlight.
In a short film from our friends over at Desillusion, Rasta explores this struggle of surf fame, his own mortality, and other soul-pestering philosophical debates. We also get a peek into his home at Byron Bay, an area known colloquially by natives as Psychedelic Valley because that’s where the hippies used to pick magic mushrooms. No word on whether Rasta is keeping the tradition alive by growing mind-expansive fungi, but he does appear to be carrying on the free-spirited way of life and experimental surf craft that the counterculture of the area advocated. He picks fresh food off plants and rides twin-fins — doesn’t get much more bohemian than that.
Rasta may prefer solitude to the spotlight, surfing an uncrowded wave alone to winning a WSL event, but he still rides a wave more beautifully than most people in the world. People often overlook the fact that he’s an amazing surfer, incisively focussing instead on his unconventional way of life and love for meditation and healthy foods. But lest we forget he has the uncanny ability to look so effortlessly in tune with nature—like he’s half dolphin or something.
