Waterman and wave legend: Robby Seeger on big waves, golden years and bad timing

Robby Seeger lived a surfer's dream: from the small Postsee lake near Kiel, Seeger tricked his way into the World Cup, securing sponsors and the favour of the media. Instead of joining the army, he moved to Maui. Blessed with wit, acumen, talent for movement and the necessary broad-shoulderedness, Seeger boxed himself a box seat in the top ranks of wave riders. What's more, Seeger became a waterman before the term even existed and a freestyler when the discipline was still in its infancy. A VIP life for wind and waves, with sponsor cheques and "free entry" wherever he went. But fate threw a spanner in the works. Instead of planning his sporting career, Seeger squandered his money, fell in love with the wrong women and fought over custody of his children. At some point, the chances of victory were lost and the sponsors gone - but the Waterman didn't let it get him down. His new project also has a big focus: the sea - how could it be any different!

Robby, your name is associated with the giant wave Jaws. How did you find out about Jaws?

Playing table tennis.

Playing table tennis?!

Gerry Lopez (Surfing icon - editor's note.) loved table tennis. He had a table in his house and was happy to have other players. I was 18 years old at the time and enjoyed playing and was good at it. Gerry told me that he had tried to surf Jaws in the 1970s, but he couldn't get through the shorebreak. Incidentally, nobody said Jaws back then. Not even Peahi - that's the Hawaiian name for the whole area. The spot was called Domes back then.

Why Domes?

A dilapidated windmill stood on the cliff. It looked like a cathedral and was the landmark. Here you had to turn off the motorway into the pineapple fields if you wanted to get to the cliff above the spot. First the spot was called Domes, later Jaws. But not because the wave bites like a shark, but because there are lots of tiger sharks there. Later, the name was changed to Peahi. I like the name Peahi best.

When did you go there for the first time?

In the early 1990s, I often went fishing with my boat up the North Shore towards Hana. After Hookipa, the coast becomes wild and inaccessible; the waters are considered "sharky" - that's why nobody was there. When I saw all the white water on one of these trips, I went closer. The wave looked impressive. I switched off the engine because I wanted to check the current. Currents make some waves unrideable. But here it seemed okay.

And the next time, windsurfing gear was on board!

Right. I dropped anchor and went windsurfing.

So you were the first windsurfer in Jaws.

I don't like the phrase "I was the first". But yes, I was the first windsurfer in Jaws.

When was the last time you were there?

Just recently. I swam out, the wave wasn't particularly big, but it felt good to be in the water. The energy of the sea is very special there.

Why is it that windsurfers are swept under the carpet when it comes to big wave surfing?

No idea. Yet we windsurfers are the pioneers of big wave surfing. A good example: Surfer Ken Bradshaw received the "Guinness Book of Record" award with his 85-foot wave that he rode on the Northshore of Oahu in 1998, but my wave in Peahi that year was higher.

How high?

I think it came close to 100 feet (30 metres) back then. Because the tube was full of white water - you never see that. And the lip fell vertically like a waterfall. You never see that either. I was out alone that day. Even Johnny Boy Gomes shook my hand afterwards and congratulated me. Gomes was a scary guy from the legendary "Da Hui" surfers in Oahu.

You were out alone that day - no jet ski?

Alone.

What would you have done if you had fallen?

Nothing at all.

Buoyancy waistcoat?

That was long before there were inflatable waistcoats.

Wipe-outs in Jaws are considered pure horror.

I even went "over the falls" in Peahi. Super nasty. This means that the wave sucks you up and you thunder down with the lip of the wave. Once I got caught by a whole wave set. I had to let go of everything before the first wave, jumped off the board and got the wave on my head. One after the other. The fifth wave was huge. It hit five metres in front of me. You can't go down there because the lip of the wave hammers too deep into the water. I tried anyway, but didn't even get half a metre down when the thing hit me. I lost consciousness.

Fainted under water!

I didn't remember anything. I just know that at some point I started counting and tried to get to the top. But that's the problem. In white water you lose your bearings, you don't know which way is up and which way is down. Or you make it to the surface, but there's so much foam that you can't breathe and you need the next wave to wash the foam away.

And then?

I counted 22 arm strokes until I was back on the surface. So I must have been really deep down.

Did this near-death experience traumatise you?

No. Back then, I was really obsessed with Peahi. I had spent a hell of a lot of time in big waves - at some point it felt normal. "Normal" is the wrong word - it felt right - I was living a Waterman life.

How much of the Waterman is left today?

100 per cent. This is no longer lost. Once a Waterman, always a Waterman. The sea is my home.

In other words, you can go out in Jaws at any time.

Yes, I can, but I don't have to. It feels good to be admired, but my ego doesn't need that anymore. I used to surf just to get applause - but that's not the point. You realise that especially when you get older. I only realised what windsurfing meant to me when I lost the freedom to "just" go windsurfing.

What do you mean?

Well, at some point the sponsors were gone. Then I was left with my secondary school leaving certificate. Money tap closed! I drove shuttle buses, built houses, organised wild boar hunts for millionaires on Molokai, built cement walls, trained a 50-year-old banker to surf Jaws, worked on roofs in the blazing heat, worked as a real estate agent, swam in the sea as a cameraman at the Pipe Masters and then spent endless days in the editing room - that's when I realised how special my windsurfing time was. It was great travelling the world, drinking champagne and getting phone numbers from pretty stewardesses.

Reality check!

And what a job it is. Because life can be hard and earning money can be a tough job, especially in Hawaii. At the peak of my sporting career, Alois Mühlegger from surf magazine asked me. "Robby, what do you want to do after windsurfing?" At the time I thought: What is this guy talking about? (Laughs).

Windsurfers in the 1990s were rock stars and the only real fun sportsmen!"

Because you thought it would go on forever.

Well, of course: Rockstar all the way! On the plane they announced: "Mister Seeger, Special Service is waiting for you at the gate." I was driven through the airport with a golf cart, Platinum for Life. I was courted everywhere. In Japan, I was given a private chauffeur. As a professional windsurfer, you had a status like Ken Roczen today and an image like a wingsuit base jumper.

Back then, you were hyped by the media. It was said that you could become a German Robby Naish.

Sun, sand and sea, was one headline.

Those were the golden days of windsurfing.

Oh yes. There was Team Germany with the cigarette company West as a sponsor. There was a lot of money and my sponsors didn't expect me to win. I ended up in 5th place, 7th place, 3rd place. While Björn became world champion for the third time, world champion for the 10th time, world champion for the 15th time. At some point I thought to myself: Oh, I'd rather go spearfishing or surfing.

Did Björn's dominance frustrate you?

That wasn't it. I just wasn't that interested in winning. That led to absurd situations. I travelled to Hyères for the World Cup with my girlfriend at the time, Angelina. I was in a great position and the world championship title was within reach. As we rolled into the paddock, I heard on the radio that there was fresh snow in Chamonix. I said to her: Fancy snowboarding? She said yes, we turned round and went snowboarding. That was fun!

Your sponsors didn't find that so funny.

Maybe, but I didn't care - I had the freedom of a fool back then, or at least I thought I did. I was the first German to make it to the final of the Aloha Classic. That was a really big deal, the Superbowl in windsurfing.

What was the highlight of your windsurfing career?

There have been many highlights, but the duel with Robby Naish in 1994 at the World Cup on Sylt stands out. Thousands of spectators turned up and I made it to the final! I felt like I was in top form and I was in Naish's face. It was a great feeling. Everything was just right, even the sun bathed everything in golden light. I experienced a Michael Jordan moment. In the end, the judges decided in Naish's favour. But I was the champion in the eyes of the audience.

You owe a lot to the World Cup.

But at a high price. You're on the road for two thirds of the year, with all the equipment, travelling from one event to the next, waiting for wind. I remember one season when we waited for wind at eleven events: an eternal sitting around on the beach.

You're on the road for two thirds of the year, with all the equipment, travelling from one event to the next, waiting for the wind."

Back then, you competed in all disciplines.

I thought course racing was rubbish. Which was a shame, because if I had trained better, I could have won a title. Slalom, on the other hand, I loved. It was fast, aggressive and strategically exciting. And wave was my discipline anyway.

When did you discover freestyle for yourself?

Freestyle has always been my thing. I grew up on a small lake, the Postsee. It had a fishing zone and I wasn't allowed to get closer than 50 metres from the shore. I had to get really creative and inevitably invent one or two manoeuvres.

How many manoeuvres have you invented?

I have invented a lot of manoeuvres. Aerial Duck Jibe, Clue first 360, Clue first Air Jibe, 540, Lazy Susan, Tabletop Forward Loop, Bodydrag into Forwardloop into Air Jibe and so on. (Laughs). I jumped the first double forward in a competition or rode the wave downwind of the sail in Peahi - a lot of things have come together in 20 years as a professional windsurfer.

Was there a windsurfer who inspired you?

Robby Naish. No matter what Robby did, he always kept his centre of gravity above the board. I learnt that from him. It's amazing what you can do when you have a well-trained, strong body. And that's what I had. The freestyle act was just a logical consequence.

Freestyle was later included in the World Cup.

Josh Stone, Brian Talma and I were the advocates. That was tricky, because none of the top dogs in the World Cup wanted to compete with the amateurs from Lake Garda. Because they were damn good. As a world-class windsurfer, you didn't just have to win, you had to win big to show the difference in class. That could backfire. I didn't care, I liked competing against Alex Humpel, Michi Schweiger & Co. At the time, the World Cup had become lame, so something new was needed.

Freestyle!

Freestyle brought a breath of fresh air to the sport. It all started with the "King of the Lake" on Lake Garda.

... the unofficial world championship of freestylers.

Yes, these were the Freestyle World Championships - everyone will agree with me. Organiser Alex Humpel did a great job and Red Bull recognised the potential. Because suddenly the normal windsurfer could be part of top-class sport again. The professional circus had moved too far away from amateur sport.

Nevertheless, you have lost interest in the World Cup.

Desire and money. As an 18-year-old, I flew home from the World Cup in Japan with 30,000 dollars cash in my rucksack. When Francisco Goya later won in Gran Canaria with the most brutal double loops and rows of broken boards - he travelled home with 5000 dollars. Ridiculous! I finished my last year in the World Cup with 40,000 minus on my credit card. So why the stress? I was in the mood for other things. Big waves, for example.

You were a pioneer in freestyle and big wave surfing.

With the fate of many pioneers. Namely, that I was ahead of my time. It wasn't until much later that big wave surfing really took off. Kai Lenny is now a mega star. But 80 per cent of what he does is based on the things that Rush Randle did long before him. Back then, the time was not yet ripe. Timing is everything and my timing was always a bit off.

You could have had a career as a Waterman.

(Laughs) I was a waterman before waterman became a term. While the others were training for course races, I was spearfishing, body surfing, freediving and so on. Even if I don't even stick my big toe in the sea from now on, I'll always be a waterman. Because I spent a hell of a lot of time in the sea.

Now big wave surfing is right in tune with the zeitgeist.

Take a look at Sebastian Steudtner. He gets full support and allegedly has seven Porsches in his garage.

That could have been you.

That was me. In 2008, I started the "Monsterwaves of Europe" project. We surfed the biggest waves in Europe. Nazaré was also on my list. But my father died and I had to cancel Nazaré. Then the economy collapsed in 2008, the sponsors cancelled, my girlfriend was expecting my next child and life went on differently.

"Monsterwaves of Europe" would probably be a Netflix series today.

But back then it was ahead of its time. It was difficult to find sponsors - just like now for my new Epic Swim Maui project. Red Bull says: "Swimming is not our thing. But expedition swimming is super exciting. There's so much in it: Mindfulness, ocean health, a connection with the element of water, a focus on the simplicity of the experience.

You were a very good windsurfer, but how did you make the transition to big wave surfer?

I'm not a good surfer. But Sebastian Steudtner isn't a good surfer either; he's more of a snowboarder on water. For big waves, you need courage first and foremost. Surfing icon Brad Lewis said to me: You have to try it! I started with tow surfing. First on the outer reefs, later in Peahi. Brad was right, I realised that big waves suit me. At the first tow contest in Peahi with huge waves, I came fourth with my tow partner Cheyne Horan. I was nominated for "Waterman of the Year" at the 2002 Nea Awards.

And yet a lot has gone wrong in your life. If you had invested your money properly back then, you would have been spared a lot.

If I had done everything right, I might have been bored to excess - and not the person I am now. I used to burn the candle at both ends, I was ruthless and I didn't give a shit about much. I think I first had to take the other perspective in order to realise what freedom I had back then. And in my case, that included a lot of heartache, fighting for the care of my three children, financial hardship, working in construction, etc. But I'm grateful that I was able to experience all of that. Everything fits, no regrets! But I realise that the hardest thing is to have a second dream.

What is your second dream?

I want to bring sport and science together. My new project is called Epic Swim Maui. I am organising an event where the best open water swimmers in the world swim around Maui. But this is more than just extreme sport, I want to raise awareness. For the ocean, the health of the reefs, the legacy that our children will inherit. I think we need to raise awareness of how connected we humans are to the ocean. Check it out: epicswimmaui.com