Cover Story: Jack Johnson - The Dude Abides

It's pre-sunrise on a cool December morning in Santa Barbara, and a big day for surfers all along the coast. A Pacific storm kicked up monster waves yesterday, and today's are predicted to be even bigger. Up the coast, at the famous Ghost Trees break on the Monterey peninsula, waves break seventy feet high — and the dangerous conditions claim the life of legendary rider Peter Davi. As the sun comes up, Johnson is on his cellphone with his buddies, triangulating, searching for the perfect break for the morning session.

With Johnson's manager and best friend, Emmett Malloy, in the driver's seat of a biodiesel Audi, and Kelly Slater — one of the greatest surfers ever — following closely behind, the posse cruises into a parking lot perched above the waves. (Johnson asks that I don't blow up the spot by printing its name.) "There was a time where I'd go on a surf trip and get filmed and hopefully end up in a movie," he says. "Nowadays, I'd rather be off with a couple of friends in a secret spot."

With every surfer in California calling in sick today, though, the lineup is deep, and waves are maxing out at about ten feet. Unlike a lot of the surfers flailing in the powerful swell, Johnson rides the waves casually and with confidence, carving gracefully across the face or slowing smoothly to let the tube curl around him. "He's charged big waves from a young age," says Slater. "It's a very old-school, natural-looking style. His approach is like his approach to music: He doesn't force anything, he doesn't try to overpower waves. And he has perfect timing."

For most of the past three years, since he got off the road after touring behind In Between Dreams, Johnson has mainly surfed and spent time with his family, staying in what he calls his "comfort zone" — out of the spotlight, detached from fans, the pressures of performing, the interviews and the photographs. He says his mental well-being hinges on having privacy, and that's what he gets in Hawaii, where locals care more about his skills on the waves than about his platinum albums. "If kids saw Kelly Slater and Tom Cruise walking down the street," he says, "they would be like, 'Ahh, Kelly Slater!' Surfing is everything here."

As far as money goes, Johnson is raking it in, but he has no use for being rich. "It's a true test of someone's character to give them a little cash and see what they do," he says. He's happy not to have to work a 9-to-5, and to have the opportunity to travel with his family on the same kind of trips he took with his parents: camping adventures. Recently, they rented a motor home and cruised around Australia. When I ask Johnson why he doesn't prefer staying at a four-star hotel, he quotes the Kinks' "Sitting in My Hotel": "If my friends could see me now, they would ask me what on Earth I'm trying to prove."

Also high on Johnson's priorities is his dedication to the environment, in particular to preserving the natural beauty of the Hawaiian Islands. In 2003, he and Kim founded the Kokua Hawaii Foundation to support environmental education in schools. When Johnson performs in school gymnasiums, armed with his songs for the 2006 Curious George soundtrack (which features green-friendly tracks like "The 3 R's," about recycling), madness ensues. "We don't even have a curbside recycling program in Hawaii," says Mark Cunningham, a North Shore lifeguard and longtime friend. "Convincing adults to lobby down at the state capital is an exercise in futility. So Jack and Kim say, 'Hey, let's brainwash the kids,' but in a sincere and logical way. It's this incredible awareness they're raising in a generation of school kids."