Phil’s Best Mate John Taylor – Mr Rallycross

Paul and I met John and David Taylor surfing at the Second Carpark in 1970. John was riding a 9’6″ Max Gill surfboard that was almost identical to the board Paul and I first surfed. Not too long after, John came around to Haldane Street, Bonbeach, to order the first of 15 to 20 Red Rhino chasers. These surfboards were always the exact same colour so that JT’s wife, Dot, wouldn’t notice he was buying a new one every year, normally just before Christmas.

When I moved to Brooklyn Avenue, Frankston, we teamed up and surfed together every day at first light, and sometimes again after work for the next five years until I moved to Point Leo. We made weekday trips to Bells Beach and would regularly be in the water by 7:00 AM, surfing everything from 2-foot to 10-foot waves.

Left to Right: Unknown, Dean Pugsley, R Pawson, Phil Brain, Michael Parkinson, John Taylor, Mark Pawson, Alan Atkins, Ted Bainbridge (standing), Paul Trigger, Ian Cochrane, Rhonda Hepburn

JT was a high-energy, hard-working guy who loved his cars and drove them like a man in a hurry. In the early 1970s, Gunnamatta was a dirt track all the way from Boneo Road, and JT loved to take on every corner at speed, drifting sideways and accelerating hard out of the turns. Shands Road was another favourite, where he would slide sideways across the bridge and then floor it just as a rally driver would. Often, the drive down and back was far more exciting than the surf we actually had. If you didn’t know him, you would think he was crazy behind the wheel, but in actual fact, he was simply a brilliant driver who thrived on speed.

After three or four years, one of his mates gave us an EJ sedan. We jump-started it, and it ran perfectly for a year. On weekends, two of John’s mates, John Baker and Norm Coombes, would join us. One afternoon, just as I arrived at the Chelsea store, the timing gear on the EJ chucked a whammy. Since we were supposed to be surfing that afternoon, I rang John and told him the bad news. He came to the shop at 4:00 PM in his new orange Fairlane and said he’d tow me home.

It turned out to be the most radical tow I have ever experienced. On a very short tow rope, we darted through peak-hour traffic at 60 to 70 MPH (around 110 to 120 km/h). The old EJ hadn’t been over 50 MPH the whole time we’d owned it, and the vibrations from the unbalanced tyres made it feel like the front end was going to fall off completely. When we finally got home, I asked him why we had to go so fast, and he simply replied, “I knew you wanted to make high tide at the Point.” He was right, of course.

The next day, we surfed early, and that afternoon he came around and fitted the new timing gear in amazingly quick time. He explained that he and his brother David both had FJ Holdens when they were younger, and on weekends if they had nothing to do, they would pull the motors out and pull them to pieces just for fun.

Left to Right:Jeff Vockler, John Taylor, Wilko, Wilko’s dog Jepp, Doug Vockler, Phil Trigger

Over the years, Paul and I have introduced heaps of our close surfing mates to Quarantine, which is, pound for pound, one of the best surf spots on the planet. Besides walking in, we had two specific boats that travelled to the Heads and nowhere else. Returning the favour, the Vockler brothers, Jeff and Doug, ferried us in on a mid-seventies adventure trip where JT volunteered to lie across our six surfboards up on the bow to keep them secure.

"Crazy Doug," as he is known to most, decided we needed a joyride on the return journey. Seizing an unsuspecting moment, he took his speedy runabout close to shore and full-throttled it out through the 2-foot shorebreak at Leprosy. We went completely airborne, with the runabout giving an almighty crack as it slammed back down to sea level. Every single surfboard suffered some form of damage as JT’s solid frame came crashing back down on top of them. Amazingly, the boat didn’t sink, but poor old JT had crook ribs for months.

After we moved to Point Leo in 1977, John would still come down early and we’d travel the Peninsula looking for a surf. One day, we ran out of petrol just as we were turning into Point Leo Road. We had about 200ml of fuel left in a small container, which JT poured into an empty Coke can. He opened the bonnet, took off the air filter, and sat right up under the open hood. As I turned the ignition, he dribbled the fuel straight into the carby, and away we went for the final 1.5 kilometres to the shop.

Years later, when JT had moved to the Gold Coast and I was into renovating old station wagons, Phil Grace (who had originally shown us how to glass boards) pointed out the advantages of buying the exact same model of car so you could easily swap the number plates over. Then, if the colour was wrong, a quick paint job with a roller and paintbrush would do the trick.

I found a wagon advertised at Berwick, so I asked Matt Trigger, who had only had his licence for a few years, to drive me over to collect the new car. I never expected Matt to drive anything like JT, but I was in for a real surprise. The plan was to get the wagon going, put the plates on, and drive it home. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t start, so we had to tow it back with the Mazda van.

We never seemed to have long tow ropes, so there I was, only about 10 feet away from his bumper, watching his brake lights intensely. Matt seemed to be in a massive hurry, and we were going really well until it started to get dark and then it poured with rain. With no tail-lights, no headlights, and no wipers, I was just sitting in total darkness with one foot riding the brake pedal, getting towed along at 100 km/h, just waiting for a brake light or a turning indicator to flash.

After another stressful 40 minutes, we finally got home. I asked Matt why he didn’t pull over when the rain started, and he replied, “I thought you’d want to get it over with as quickly as possible.” He was probably right! It felt like a total flashback, as that is exactly what John Taylor would have said.

John sadly passed away in 2009. Though he wasn't the absolute best surfer on the Peninsula, he was undoubtedly one of the keenest for an early surf, especially when he could put his legendary driving skills to the test along the way.

John Taylor had four sons: Peter, Phil, Garry, and Jason. Phil went on to become a very competitive surfer, while Garry (GT) achieved professional competitive results that no other East Coast surfer is ever likely to equal.