Soulful Wanderer
Surfer, filmmaker, and rancher Chris Malloy’s authentic life in Los Alamo
“I still really enjoy the process of dreaming up a new board,” Malloy admits.
It’s hard to know where to start when writing about Chris Malloy. My first impression of him was when I was a teenager, poring over colorful, saturated spreads in surf magazines. Chris was the stereotypical portrait of a surfer: hair blonde by saltwater, tanned skin, colorful garb, deep barrel shots in tropical blue waters of unidentified exotic locations.
Words and photographs by Matt Titone
He and his brothers, Keith and Dan, were not painted by the industry as counterculture surf punks but rather athletic, soulful explorers—well-rounded watermen with authentic, timeless style. They became famous for carving out a lifestyle as “free surfers,” pioneering surf travel to new locations around the world, while artfully documenting their adventures.
“The rhythm of life here is shaped by dirt roads, cold mornings, livestock, and the long draw of the Pacific only a few ridges away.”
Chris now lives in a place where the hills roll toward the sea, back to his roots of living off the land. After years spent chasing swells around the world—from O‘ahu to Ireland to the far reaches of Patagonia—he came home to California, to a patch of land outside the small farm town of Los Alamos. He and his wife, Carla, raised their three kids first in a canvas wall tent on 105 raw acres, then in the hand-built house they live in now.
“After years spent chasing swells around the world—from O‘ahu to Ireland to the far reaches of Patagonia—he came home to California, to a patch of land outside the small farm town of Los Alamos.”
It’s a place stitched together with memory—fireplace stones pulled from the same rock ring he used as a kid in Ojai, a mantel hewn from the old San Simeon Pier, beams traded, salvaged, carried with care. The rhythm of life here is shaped by dirt roads, cold mornings, livestock, and the long draw of the Pacific only a few ridges away. He still surfs, still writes, films, and builds things, but the work feels quieter now—less about the spotlight and more about stewardship.
Photographs and text excerpted from Surf Shacks: Vol. 3 (Gestalten, $64).
In many ways, Malloy helped redraw the map of modern surf culture—first as a fearless competitor, then a soulful wanderer, making films that treasured the space between waves, and later by helping anchor Patagonia’s approach to surfing in purpose, aesthetic, and utility. Yet here on the Central Coast, he is simply another caretaker of land and story—an old California kind of cowboy, hands in the soil, boards on the truck, teaching his children that a good life is built from self-reliance, saltwater, and respect for the ground beneath your feet.
