It’s early evening in southern California. Ty Duckett, a stocky Philadelphia native, lies on his surfboard in the ocean. Another man, wearing a bucket hat, stands nearby: he’s chest-deep in the water and gesturing with his hands. Ty, who’s 35 years old, nods in agreement as the ocean pulses around him.→
Text: Jibri Nuriddin ✸ Photography: Alexis Hunley
→ A wave begins to crest. Ty slowly paddles his way into it and presses his torso up, forming, for a brief moment, a hypotenuse triangle between his body, his outstretched arms, and the board. He firmly plants his right foot, as his back leg does a full 180 degree sweep to the front of the board. Only then is it clear that Ty, a black man on a beach that was once segregated, is surfing with a prosthetic leg.
The man in the bucket hat, now cheering at the top of his lungs, is David Malana, the founder of Color The Water: a Californian surf collective, made up entirely of people of colour, that sprang up during the aftermath of George Floyd’s killing at the hands of police officers.
“I guess you could say I’m the founder of this thing, but it’s everyone’s, man,” David says, his tone soft. “It’s everyone who brings what they are that makes this special. I’m just a vessel letting it move through me.” A few hours earlier, I’m watching as the Color The Water crew ready their surfboards for the evening session. Everyone is hanging at the clubhouse (a makeshift surf spot, based out of an Airbnb property that David rents to house the group), which sits along the famed Ocean Front Walk of Santa Monica, where 100 metres of sand is all that separates you from the Pacific Ocean.
The lineup changes almost daily, but the mood here remains the same. There are artists, actors, dancers, designers, rappers, writers, programmers, personal trainers, nurses, restaurateurs, PhD students: anyone and everyone can turn up. Today, there’s even a shirtless toddler, who wanders around like he owns the place. Surfers don wetsuits, wax boards, attach leashes, all the while talking about the day’s swell, the price of TESLA, and why Drake is, ultimately, overrated as a rapper.
David emerges from his room and strolls out onto the courtyard, shirtless and sporting a wry grin. The 38-year-old is a Los Angeles native of Filipino descent, who recently returned home after some time away. He bought his first board aged 21 and taught himself how to use it, but after quickly growing disillusioned with his local surf scene’s lack of diversity (“I was trying to fi
