August 29th, 1999. Virginia Beach, VA, enjoyed some of the best surf ever to bless the East Coast Surfing Championships. First Street Jetty assumed the appearance of a miniature Trestles—clean, head-high rights bowling down the beach. As thousands gathered to watch The Rad Boarding Contest, a specialty event featuring a variety of alternative boarding divisions, A-List primadonna aerialists like Bruce Irons failed to produce. San Clemente, CA’s, Adam Virs, however, caught a shoulder-high nugget, spun a clean air-reverse two feet in the air, and nailed it. Thrusting his fists to the sky, he hooted triumphantly to the roars of an intoxicated crowd. He appeared the obvious winner until one unknown, somewhat diminutive figure in an orange jersey grunted down the line of the next set with a speedy series of mid-face turns. Although the wave was completely smackable, the figure refused to hit it, instead zeroing in on a section 75 yards ahead with laser-beam focus. Exploding two-feet higher while grabbing lien, he landed backwards, spinning inches away from the Cali crossboarder’s awestruck mug. No chest-thumping claim from the figure, only an unenthusiastic nose scratch, followed by a nonchalant walk out of the shorebreak. The stunned silence on the beach indicated that it was a moment of unforgettable magnitude. Although Virs dominated the contest with strong placings in the wake and skateboard heats, it was clear there was a new sheriff in the town of Big Air. The surfer in the orange jersey was New Smyrna Beach, FL’s, Aaron Cormican, and although this crowd might’ve never heard of him before, they’d certainly remember him after that ludicrous huck. Now, two years later, Cormican sits at the top of the aerialist food chain with a patented, never-before-seen maneuver, a $10,000 victory in Progression Video Magazine’s Five-Air Challenge, and his first-ever ESM interview.

ESM: Congratulations on winning the 5-Air.

Gorkin: Thanks, man. I saved some. The rest went towards a Montero. Brian Meehan and those guys at Progression did a good job putting it together.

ESM: How did it feel winning a contest where the viewing audience is the judging panel? To be publically acknowledged as the best booster in the business is like winning the Surfer Poll of aerialists.

Gorkin: I know it was the flip that clenched it. I didn’t think I’d win, but Shea Lopez told me, “You can do all the airs. Get ‘em on video, and send it in.” Cory was stoked for me, too, because there was a similar contest in Australia this year with five grand going to whoever did the flip. I did it, and rode out of it for a second before bodysurfing in. I guess you could call it the first version of the Gorkin Flip. I sent the tape the next day, and they said, “Oh, we can’t give it to him, he didn’t spin in the flats afterwards.” Cory’s like, “You should’ve won. That was gnarly without the spin.”

ESM: As a New Smyrna Beach lifer, what changes has the place undergone over the years?

Gorkin: It used to be kind of a tourist town. Now there aren’t as many beachgoers but lots more people trying to establish themselves there. It’s getting bigger, but there’s still order in the water—a definite totem pole of respect, and the old guys are at the top. Although no one wants to surf anymore because of the shark attacks. I’ve only been grazed by falling on ‘em, but my friends John Feindt, Brian Froand, Johnny Perkins, and Kevin Clore have all been bit.

ESM: Which locals influenced you growing up?

Gorkin: I grew up watching guys like Greg Geiselman, Ronnie Hope, Joe Surbaugh, and Steve Anest at the ASP East contests. Them making Smyrna look good got me amped. There were also older guys before them, like Terry Pressley. Even my dad, Dale Cormican, used to rip. Then the Johnston brothers, Leon and Jimmy, and Ross Pell.

ESM: Who were your heroes on the international level?

Gorkin: Archy, Potter, and Christian Fletcher. Archy would do these backside, inverted method airs—upside down, crazy shit. These days, I like to watch Andy Irons’ lines—the way he contorts himself. Everything’s so smooth and fluid, it’s like watching a futuristic Curren. But Curren was perfect, so he’s the main influence. Airs [shrugs], I can do ‘em, so I look up to guys who do that shit, but then again I try to surf like Curren.

ESM: How instrumental was your family to your success?

Gorkin: They separated when I was three, but my mom and dad got me into contests when I was young. Then I got to an age where I got burned out on them. I did ESA until I was 16, then I did NSSA for a year or two because Leon Johnston started a district up in my area. I wanted to see if I could do better in NSSA because I had bad luck with the ESA Director.

ESM: Bad luck?

Gorkin: We clashed a lot. He kicked me out of a scholastic event when I switched from high school to community college. I wasn’t going to school at the time, so I wrote down New Smyrna Beach High School. But since I dropped out at 16, I got there and put Daytona Beach Community College. I enrolled the day after the contest. He suspended me for three months, so I didn’t even compete for a year after that. The NSSA is good for kids, though. I’m glad I got two years of it because it really helped me out. If you win the NSSA Nationals, especially Open Men’s—it doesn’t matter who you are—you’re guaranteed a contract the next year for money.

ESM: Whoa, let’s back up a bit. You dropped out of high school?

Gorkin: I was failing really bad—pretty much going nowhere. So I said, “Fuck it, I’m gonna try to become a pro surfer.” I wanted to do the Cali-fag, home-school thing, but my mom wasn’t into it at all. Then one day she showed up at the school. They called me down to the office, and she says, “All right, you’re done.” I said, “Are you kidding me, I don’t get to say ‘bye’ to all the girls? I’m done?” She says, “Yeah.”

ESM: Any plans on going back?

Gorkin: I got my GED a month after dropping out. I said, “Fuck, I’m not stupid. I’m getting it done.” I passed with really high scores and even went to college a couple weeks later. Full schedule, too—morning and night, every day of the week. I could only surf on my days off. I just worked everyday bussing tables and valet parking at Riverview Charlie’s in New Smyrna, living with my mom, just trying to get by. Then I moved out for four months and payed rent by myself. It was hard, dropping out of high school and going straight into real life.

ESM: Still, that’s pretty impressive—dropping out, getting your GED, and enrolling in college before your classmates even graduated.

Gorkin: Well, I only went half a semester [laughs]. What happened is my mom got remarried and went on her honeymoon, so I stole 200 Coronas from her reception. I partied for a week straight, had chicks hanging out, and had so much fun. But one lady in my class called my mom, saying “Yeah, Aaron didn’t come to school all week.” So I traded in my book money, got a cheap ticket to California, and spent four months in San Diego. My friends Johnny Perkins and Matt Ollila drove me around and let me crash there for free.

ESM: Is that when you got hooked up with Lost?

Gorkin: Dave Chambers was a big influence there. I always got amped watching him surf. We became friends, and whenever he’d rep for someone, he’d try to get me a sponsor. Then he got the Lost job and told them about me. They were like, “Yeah, we’ll hook him up,” but they were just blowing wind at first with stuff like, “Don’t worry, you’re sponsored.” That’s when I went back to Cal, ordered my first board, and got the clip.

ESM: The clip?

Gorkin: My first video clip. I went to Lowers with this guy Angelo I met in San Diego. Lowers is so fucking rippable. It’s like Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater. Everything’s perfect. You just wanna go out there and go mental. I did a couple turns, a floater, and then an air-reverse. I was tripping because it was the first really good air-reverse I did. I showed it to Lost owner Mike Reola, and he said, “Not bad. Keep videoing, and I’ll give you boards every once in a while.” I didn’t think much of it. I was just stoked to get a sponsor. Then he started giving me more boards, paying for a couple contests. The next thing you know, he’s giving me ads and putting me in movies.

ESM: Were your parents supportive of your lifestyle at that point?

Gorkin: Oh, my mom was pissed! She knows it’s hard to make it as a pro, and she wanted me to go to school. My dad just said, “Charge it! Take your 300 bucks, and go to California. You can always come back and go to school later.” Mom took a while. After five months in Cal, I moved back in with her. I was getting a little money but not enough to live on. But I was getting paid to surf, so it was like, “Fuck working.” The guy my mom remarried was a real dick at first. We fought constantly—serious fights. We’d always get on each other’s case because I wouldn’t do anything but surf. This is what I got paid to do, and he didn’t understand because he didn’t surf. He’s looking at surfing like, “Fuck that, he needs to get out of the house, quit mooching off us...” Meanwhile, I’m paying for my own shit.

ESM: So how did you manage to ultimately escape Struggleville?

Gorkin: I was struggling, but I was stoked. I mean, I was 17 and not in school. But I was bummed at the same time because I was living like shit and didn’t think the pro thing was gonna work. I didn’t have much money, and Lost wanted me to do something. I was just lagging and partying every night. I debated going back to school when I finally took my shit, and bailed to Cal for another five months.

ESM: But things started happening this time around.

Gorkin: I surfed Lowers everyday, twice a day, and it helped my surfing so much. I’ve never had any bad vibes there because I met the right people, like John Robertson. We fed off each other from the start. Watching John surf fully helped my style. He’s used to Cali pointbreaks, and I always tried a bunch of jerky turns. He went out of his way to introduce me to his friends. Now I got lots of places to stay because of him. I owe John’s mom a lot, too. She’s super cool, like my west coast stepmom. She makes sure I have a chocolate cake every time I show up!

ESM: Was this when your surfing career really materialized?

Gorkin: Yeah. Lost gave me a half-section in Lost Across America. Heather Holjes also had a lot to do with it. She’d shoot with me everyday, no matter what the conditions were. She’d send photos to ESM, Surfer, and Surfing to help me out, and it helped her, as well. Once I had the shots, I started getting contracts from people, and that really freaked my mom out. She started supporting me and said, “Wow, you’re getting a little something going here. Maybe you can make a living at this for a while.” Then I did the flip, and Lost really exposed it, so it kinda opened the door for me. Soon I was making enough where I could move out on my own and feed myself. Then my mom got my stepdad to start surfing! Now he’s fully behind me, too. It took him a while to get ahold of then. Now he sees the Montero, and he’s like, “Holy shit!”

ESM: Let’s talk about the Gorkin Flip. Hardly anyone knows you, then all of a sudden you have a maneuver named after you. Now “Gorkin” is household.

Gorkin: That was the one. If I wouldn’t have pulled that, I’d still be lingering around. I didn’t know it would be that big a deal, but the thing won me ten grand! I’m still kinda tripping.

ESM: Speaking of which, how did you get the name “Gorkin”?

Gorkin: This guy Googa tried to pronounce my last name: “Gormi, Gormak... ” Mike Reola comes in five minutes later and said, “Gorkin.” It stuck. Fucking Lost guys [laughs]. I don’t mind the name, though.

ESM: What is the most important component to sticking it smoothly and successfully?

Gorkin: It’s hard as shit. I rarely pull it. It’s all about getting the grab and the right section. The grab is so important because it helps control the board. Projection too, because you gotta project out towards the flats. You think you’re gonna land in the flats, but you’re not because the wave is moving forward as you do. It’s almost like a frontside 360 air, but it’s backside. I don’t wanna sound cocky, but the whole concept isn’t that complicated. You only have to turn so much. When you’re coming up out of the wave, your tail’s already towards the beach, so all you gotta do is turn 180 to get the nose around. You really gotta have that cushion, though, so you can land all soft. I’ve hurt myself bad trying them—compressed my ankle.

ESM: Talk about the first air you remember landing...

Gorkin: I was maybe 12, and the wind was blowing into me. It wasn’t really off a section, more like a backside ollie—a wanna-be air. My stance was all stinkbug—probably four feet wide—and my board was only 4’10”! I was so freaked out I ran up to these older guys like, “Did you see that?” They blew me off. Here I am, some grom claiming an air, but who knows what it was? It started there, though. I wanted to do that shit when I looked at old pictures of Archy and Christian.

ESM: When did you realize you had a gift for busting and calmly sticking any hucks
you attempted?

Gorkin: I think I’m like Strider—my knees don’t bend [laughs]. I got the motion, though. Once I do an air, I don’t think about the landing much. I used to land kinda squatty. I got more casual, then I started pulling them after that. Maybe skating helped. When I was young, there was this super-steep curb, and I’d 180 off it all day. Because that was the only thing I could do on a skateboard—180-air, frontside. Finally, I got to where I’d hit it with more speed, roll out of it backwards, and turn my board around like an air-reverse. Because in skating, you don’t squat to land shit, you just cruise out of it, so I got used to landing like that.

ESM: A lot more easier on the eyes than some chop hop.

Gorkin: I can’t do chop hops! Actually, the other day I tried one for the hell of it, dragged my fins, and fell over. I was like, “Oh, that’s why I don’t try those things. They’re gay!” It’s not like
hitting a section and getting that clean boost. I don’t like to force airs on a part of the wave where it’s not called for. I don’t like to fly away and look all silly. I like to make it look nice... and pull it.

ESM: Does the “air guy” tag swipe focus off other parts of your act?

Gorkin: Being an air guy? I’ll take it ‘cause I get to do what I love. But I wanna be known as an
all-around good surfer. I got the airs down, but I gotta work on solid tuberiding in bigger waves. I don’t wanna be just an air guy. I wanna have style, tubes, everything—like Slater.

ESM: How about the Airshows? Do you feel that format better suits your style?

Gorkin: I’m not really into ‘em. What sucks about those is if the waves are shitty, you gotta force airs. It’s almost like a real contest. Instead of four to the beach, it’s two airs to the beach. I’d rather just surf.

ESM: As a Floridian pro who surfs almost no contests and divides his time between California and the East Coast, do you think it’s best to base yourself here?

Gorkin: Yeah, it helps my sponsors because they can market me over here. I like being in Smyrna because I got friends and family here. I like it fun and mellow, and that’s what this place is about. You just cruise on the beach, pull right up to the Inlet, and look at the waves. And there’s ass in G-strings everywhere! It’s rad! I’ve been here since I was born and I’ll be here ‘till I die. I’m gonna have all my friends spread my ashes at Smyrna Inlet.

ESM: Where haven’t you been that you’d like to visit?

Gorkin: Amsterdam.

ESM: Why? No waves there.

Gorkin: Um... to drink coffee [laughs].

ESM: Who do you see capable of making it big from the East Coast?

Gorkin: I like Blake Jones. He’s a cool little kid, and he does insane airs. I’ve seen him do a really heavy rodeo on video. But although I picked him out, all groms are ripping nowadays. Nielz Sweitzer, Devon Tresher, Noah Beaman, Jeremy Johnston, and Eric Geiselman—those are the five doing it from Smyrna. They’re like 14 or 15 and surf so good, but they don’t know yet that surfing isn’t all there is to life. I was almost on my own at their age. They’re rad, though. They all come out in a pack, start boosting all kinds of crazy shit. It keeps me on my toes, for sure. I wanna be like the guys who were there for me, like Chambers. I wanna introduce the groms to people in the industry.

ESM: One year it was the rodeo clown. The next it was the shuvit, followed by the Superman. What’s getting the most attention, maneuver-wise, in 2002?

Gorkin: I don’t know, but the frontside, inverted alley-oop Kelly’s been trying looks pretty cool. And that thing Phillip Waters is doing—I just call it a “Phillip”—off the transition, like an alley-oop varial, is crazy. I don’t think to try new shit, it just happens. Those guys probably have clearer heads when they paddle out [laughs]. I really wanna do the Gorkin Flip backside, though, but throw a varial in. I still gotta work on pulling it consistently. Then maybe I’ll be able to come up in the middle of rotating and varial my board, so I’ll land fakie...

ESM: What other interests do you have outside surfing?

Gorkin: Horticulture.

ESM: How do you feel about Lost utilizing guys like you and John Robertson to carry on the party image previously held by Wardo and Cory?

Gorkin: I don’t give a fuck! I’m not out to impress anyone. I party enough to have fun, but not past an extent. Lost pays me to be me, ‘cause that’s who I am—I’m Gorkin. They’re good to me, though. I couldn’t believe I got two
sections in The Decline. Too bad I can’t get a copy out of those guys [laughs]. Thing is, I never thought I’d be a pro surfer, so I don’t care how a pro’s supposed to act. I happened to be lucky enough to do a few airs, and Lost gives me exposure for it. I don’t want to be a prettyboy who gets everything handed to him. I want to be me—surfing with friends, picking up chicks, partying—just as long as my checks keep coming [laughs].

ESM: What are some of your short and long-term goals? Is the WCT even remotely in view?

Gorkin: Y’know, I’ve done a bunch of airs, and I’m satisfied with my surfing at Lowers, but right now I wanna work on getting tubes and bigger waves in general. That’s what it takes to be all-around like Cory. I want to be there, but I want to be a complete surfer first, so I’m going for the title, not just struggling to keep my seed. I wanna make sure I’m there to do something, like be Top-16. I don’t wanna go out at Teahupoo and blow my heat by not catching a fucking wave. Teahupoo, Pipeline, Sunset—they’re not kiddy waves, y’know? You gotta be ready for that shit. You can’t do airs at Sunset. So I’m working on it slowly, doing some 2-Stars and 3-Stars just to get a few points and a seed, then one day I’ll be on tour with all the other Floridians.

ESM: Tell us a cool Daytona Biker Week story.

Gorkin: Every year, me and my buddies would get outta school half-day and go to this wooded place called Cabbage Patch to party—see tits, chicks’ beavers, go to the full biker bars, and raise hell in the middle of the day. You don’t get to do that shit in Cal. It’s not cool there to be dirty and drink Budweiser out of the can. Florida’s good like that.

ESM: Anyone you wish to thank?

Gorkin: My mom and dad, the guys at Lost, all my San Clemente friends, the Robertsons, Wooster, B. House at Osiris, Cyber Suits, Von Zipper, Hustler, my crew—The NBK—The New Burna Konnection, Heather, Chambers, and all the other people pushing me to be gnarlier than I am. Because of them, I’m surfing for a living. I don’t have to sit at a desk or clean up after people eating.

ESM: Anything else you’d care to say?

Gorkin: I thank whoever’s up there for this. I won ten grand, and you guys are doing an interview on me. I can’t believe that shit! But I almost wish I was going to college right now with all my buddies. Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do, but it’s always more fun doing college with friends, getting classes with hot chicks, instead of going alone at 35. Lots of kids probably look at me right now like, “What a fucking idiot. I can’t believe he said that...” But what am I supposed to do? Carry around the Gorkin Flip in my notebook, “Hey, I did this 15 years ago, babe, wanna go out? I got a couple frozen burritos in my freezer... ” I’m stoked right now, but I don’t wanna be working at a surf shop at 35 telling some grom, “Yeah I used to rip, you don’t even know.” Any kid will look at me like, “Who the fuck are you? Gorkin what? I do the McAllister Rodeo.” But you only live once, so I want life to be nice. I want to have a nice car, a nice house, a wife, a family... all that shit. Surfing can get me some of that, but only for so long.

ESM: But you’re no doubt thankful of your place in the current surfing spectrum.

Gorkin: Shit, I probably appreciate it more than anyone, because I’ve worked my ass off since I was 15 years old—washing dishes, detailing cars, mowing lawns, cleaning houses—you name it, I’ve done it. Most kids surfing these days haven’t worked a day in their life. If I had to stay in Smyrna forever, and I didn’t get paid to surf, it’d still be okay because I didn’t grow up getting paid to surf. I gotta do what I gotta do right now, though. I can hang out later.