Filthy Habits. That’s what my friends and I had when we were groms. That’s all we had. For those out there who aren’t familiar with the 1988 Billabong classic (available only on VHS at the time, maybe Betamax if you looked around), Filthy Habits was everything a 14-year-old surfer could ever want to get the synapses firing before a session: TSOL howling verse after surfabilly verse on “No Time.” Ronnie Burns soul-arching Second Reef Pipe. Occy’s untouchable frontside snapbacks. Social Distortion’s gritty toughness juxtaposing the era’s embarrassing day-glo sensibility. Richie Collins’ Oakley Razor Blades. Sunny Garcia’s attitude…

I imagine it difficult for groms these days being able to perceive a time when surfing wasn’t an acceptable sporting activity, much less a viable vocational path. But in 1988 — when valley girls, jocks, mudflaps, and shopping malls reigned supreme — being a grom meant you were a rebel to some extent. Surfing? Gag me with a wax comb! Fer’sure, like totally! 

Pardon me for stating the obvious, but kids today have infinitely more surf stimuli than a single videotape, a couple surf mags, and an annual membership with their local ESA district. They can stream real-time internet surf reports on their iPods, watch YouTube clips of the last session on their cell phones, and listen to their favorite song on waterproof MP3 players while pulling in the barrel. They have surf coaches, surf tutors, even Surf P.E. They have homeschool when the surf’s good, and jet-skis when the surf sucks. They have board sponsors, clothing sponsors, shoe sponsors, watch sponsors, sunglass sponsors, wetsuit sponsors, accessory sponsors, and energy drink sponsors… 

And the ones that are fortunate enough to call New Jersey or New York home, they have Kamp Keenzo.

Conceptualized four years ago by former NSSA National champ and longtime Ocean City, NJ, pro Matt Keenan to maximize the talent and visibility of the states’ best teenage surfers and, subsequently, their career longevity, Kamp Keenzo began as a ragtag Joisey gathering in Hawaii before morphing last year into a systematic, instruction-heavy surfing tutorial in Costa Rica complete with photographers, clinicians, and pro surfer chaperones. This February, with the help of his main sponsor Ergophobia, Keenan stepped up Kamp Keenzo significantly, renting an idyllic, spacious house in Bathsheba, Barbados, skipping distance from the famed righthand reefbreak known as Soupbowl. Keenan also wisely enlisted Long Beach Island, NJ, pro Randy Townsend to help manage the troops, and once again invited photographers Mike Nelson and Dick Meseroll to record their every hack while explaining certain fundamentals of working with lensmen and getting the shot, which these days is every bit as important to a surfer’s ascension and street cred as any contest result. Maybe more. The daily checklist for campers was as basic as any loosely structured dossier could be: awake at dawn, fuel up, hit the Bowl or pack the vans for a South Coast day trip, surf till dark, fuel down, assess the photos or video clips, exchange information about surviving in the surf industry, talk story with the locals and each other, and hit the sack. No partying. No vibing. No bitching.   

But to my surprise, to my delight, I learned that despite the convenient surfing world they were lucky enough to be born into, these New Jersey/ New York groms got spunk. They got personality. An

they’re not scared to break bad with a few filthy habits of their own.

Cover yourself in public.
Brian Liess (18 years old, Ocean City, NJ) is the first to strip. All the typical airline debacles leave a large chunk of the crew stuck in Miami overnight, and by the time they arrive in Bathsheba on Day One, most are without their baggage. But Soupbowl still beckons: four to six-foot with stiff onshores, but utterly rippable and nary a soul out. The campers are frothing to finally get acquainted with the slabby Caribbean staple, which none of them have ever surfed before. And they want to do it properly, with their own boards. Spirits begin to head south when Liess, who besides being without his boards doesn’t even have a pair of baggies, takes it upon himself to charge the Bowl on one of Brendan Buckley’s sticks… and a Speedo. It is more than a simple, magnanimous act of improvisation; it sets the barometer for the week to come, perfectly summing up everything being a grom should be about: Do take your surfing seriously, but the minute you start taking yourself too seriously, you’re already on your way to a pretty jaded existence. Surf like a man; jest like a kid. 

BRIAN LIESS Kamp Keenzo sophomore Brian Liess isn’t as well known as a lot of his South Jersey peers, but when a punchable section looked at him weird on the biggest day of the trip, Liess knew just how to react. That brutality still didn’t stop him from taking the camp’s “Mr. Congeniality” award. It seems that everything Liess does, he does with a smile

RANDY TOWNSEND “The thinking man’s pro,” Randy Townsend is one of those guys who is intelligent and affable enough to be anything he wants. Lucky for us, he decided to become a pro surfer. From navigating road routes and communicating with locals in their native dialect to acting as a big brother to the groms and setting a great example in the water, Randall always knows what time it is: 12 o’clock at the Bowl… and just look how impressed Pruett is by this snap!

BALARAM STACK From the illusionary lefts of South Point (which the crew renamed “Baluwatu”) to the rip-churned non-wave in front of Smokey’s Shack (which the crew dubbed “SmokeStack Cove”) to the main attraction (“SoupBal”), Balaram Stack maximized every opportunity that presented itself, slamming the gavel that he is totally deserving of the “phenomegrom” hype. As Randy Townsend says, “There are no boxes for that kid.”

Don’t cut in line.
By the time everyone’s equipment finally arrives, it makes sense to follow co-counselor Randy Townsend’s lead and take a drive. This time of year, head-high, tradewind-whipped Soupbowl is practically guaranteed. But a decent swell gracing the South Coast — not so much. One of maybe only three LBI surfers to ever make it as a pro, and Team Manager for the grassroots New Jersey-based company Jetty, Randy knows this island like the back of his tail pad, having returned here every year for the past decade. He and his muscular understudy Pete Machotka (18 years old, Manahawkin, NJ) had been reveling in pristine, head-high lefts at South Point for a couple days before the rest of the campers arrived. And with hearty New York photographer Mike Nelson itching to shoot the boys from the majestically azure water, Randy isn’t getting much resistance on the call. Leading 15 feisty East Coasters on a van ride through the Barbados countryside is one thing; paddling them out to a fickle Caribbean pointbreak is another thing entirely. Following Townsend and Machotka out to the lineup, the crew is careful to tread softly and mind their manners, encountering no trouble at all as they blend in seamlessly with a handful of Bajan locals. Karma pays back tenfold as every South Point session ends with generous wave counts for all. 

MATT KEENAN Matt Keenan has one of the most impeccably smooth styles the Garden State’s ever produced, but that’s just one of the things that makes him such a strong role model for these youths to emulate. After all, at 33 years old, Matt’s still in the game — winning contests, getting photos, taking trips — proof that with enough drive and perseverance, a pro career can be extended like a long, carving roundhouse.

ROB KELLY Raw Rob, R. Kelly, Nature Boy, Forrest Heart… Besides being one of the most technically advanced young surfers in all of New Jersey, Rob Kelly also enjoys the reputation of just being a real nice kid with a good head on his shoulders, razor focus, and mature, competitive savvy that can only come with being Kamp Keenzo’s original attendee.

Be careful after curfew.
Someone is bound to get a wild hair up his ass sooner or later. And on this night, it is New York fortunate son Balaram Stack (16 years old, Point Lookout, NY) and Jersey darkhorse Brendan Buckley (18 years old, Belmar, NJ). Soupbowl is scary enough in the daytime, especially when hard southeasterly winds start pushing paddlers toward the treacherous rip to the north of the break. At night, it’s an almost ludicrous proposition. With a deceptively bright full moon beaming above and bloodthirsty barracuda feeding below, “Buck Nasty” and “Bal-Stack” paddle out into the blackness, catch a couple waves each, and come in injected with more than their share of urchin spines, but heaps more respect from the crew had they not attempted it. A healthy lesson for all: the best way to combat boredom on any surf trip is to stop making sense altogether.

TJ GUMIELA One of only two New York invitees, TJ Gumiela showed flashes of brilliance all week long, which was to be expected, given the fact that TJ’s one of Nellie’s prime photo subjects, not to mention Balaram’s #1 sparring partner. In fact, it would not be entirely inappropriate to tag Teej as the future of Northeast surfing.

CHRIS KELLY Chris Kelly, on the other hand, is the epitome of “X Factor.” The kind of guy you pretty much forget is even around before he does something so unexpected, so mind-blowing it goes down forever in the annals of surfing history. If we were betting men (and we are), we’d throw money on Quiz’s limitless potential one day translating into a beautiful career.

Quit picking your nose.
A lot of good it does him, carefully studying the nose, tail block, bottom contour, and rail outline of each of his prized vehicles before finally deciding on the one that would best fit Soupbowl’s tradewind-churned curves. Keenan’s hometown protégé Rob Kelly (18 years old, Ocean City, NJ) has always been observant like that, one of the traits that’s undoubtedly turned the defending NSSA East Coast Open Men’s/ ESA Open & Junior Men’s champ into such a lethal competitor in a few short years. But the Bowl knows no favorites on this day, and after one too many backside blasts goes awry, Rob returns to the house with his favorite Uncle Mike (“my contest board”) shattered. Very next session, he creases his second favorite board. Two days later, TJ Gumiela’s (17 years old, Long Beach, NY) choice stick also falls victim to the Bowl’s unruly bowels. But no tears are lost on the destroyed foam and fiberglass; like rules, hearts, and records, surfboards are made to be broken.

MICHAEL CIARAMELLA Growing up away from the ocean in Media, PA, Michael Ciaramella had to learn earlier than most about not wasting any water time. From pulling up backside pigdogs at front-lit South Point to perfecting the nuances of a filthy figure-8 cutback at Soupbowl to finishing his homework during the trip’s downtime — Mikey knows a thing or two about discipline. Just watch how far that takes him on his way to fulfilling his destiny as one of the Mid-Atlantic’s toughest young competitors.

BRAD MORAN With one older brother making a living as a professional surfer and the other as a professional surf photographer, the pressure to perform might’ve been a little higher for Brad Moran than the other campers. He dealt with it by applying some pressure of his own to Soups’ beefy walls.

PETE MACHOTKA LBI powerhouse Pete Machotka is rumored to be quite the lady killer back home. But with no chicks available on this all-business Kamp Keenzo excursion, Pete put all the extra testosterone to good use with his forehand hacks at South Point.

Please stop spitting.
When they aren’t adhering to studious impulses and making good with homework assignments, trip tykes Michael Ciaramella (14 years old, Stone Harbor, NJ) and Sean Santiago (14 years old, Wildwood Crest, NJ) are getting spit on… by Soupbowl’s nasty inside barrel. Perhaps more than anyone else on the trip, Mikey and Santi (who are practically polar opposites personality-wise) embody the purest essence of the modern East Coast helgie archetype, while perfectly modeling the adolescent paradox of being smart and focused and dazed and confused, all at once. First-Round Clown or National Champ, Surfer Magazine coverboy or ESM postage stamp, future headliner or eventual mysterio, there’s one thing that remains consistent with all grommets — we get older, they stay the same age.

	On the final evening before heading back to the States, the Eastern Surf brain trust of Nellie, Mez, and Pruett engaged the campers in a tutorial explaining some of the dos and don’ts of working with the surf media. Their invaluable lessons were met with complete attentiveness, a bright sign of the professionalism that will one day follow these youths.

So nothing’s really changed. All the convenience, attention, amenities, and opportunities in the world; in the end it means nothing. All that really matters is a complete surrender to all things SURF. If nothing else, Kamp Keenzo merely reflects that ethos: get ‘em while they’re young, get ‘em while they’re idealistic, and show them that as long as they stay wet, they are and will always be the darlings of the world. My friends and I didn’t have anything like Kamp Keenzo when we were these kids’ age. But we did have that mindset, that and Filthy Habits. 

And you know what? It was plenty.

Video by Rob Kelly and Kiki Terrels

Eastern Surf Magazine would like to extend a heartfelt word of thanks to the following people who helped make Kamp Keenzo 2008 such an enchanting and fun-filled experience: Kamp Director Matt Keenan and his lovely girlfriend Lauren Lamusta, Kamp co-counselor Randy Townsend, Melanie Pitcher at Barbados Surf Trips, Mike Nelson, Kevin “Bujah” Nicholls, Corey “Chicken” Scantlebury, Edison “Snake” Hedley, Ergophobia, and of course, all the Kamp Keenzo groms and their parents.