Mr. Tyler, thankful to be doing what he’s doing.
While Nate Tyler may fit the bill of an independent and elusive Central California freesurfer, he still manages to balance enough time for his impressive kinetic sculptures, and beautiful family. Nate’s aerials have earned him sponsorships from numerous major brands – and major video parts in household-name surf films like Strange Rumblings in Shangri-La and Psychic Migrations. Most recently, Tyler teamed up with Greyson Fletcher and Conner Coffin to create Convergence, a new-fangled documentary filmed by Perry Gershkow and Dana Shaw following three surfers and skaters doing what they do best around California.
Though Nate confesses he’s on the “dark side of the moon” of his surf career, his latest film part convinced me that career is far from over. We talked about what this recent part meant for him as a surfer, and his life in general.
What that experience of getting to know Greyson and Conner, coming from such a different standpoint in your career? Was it difficult to make conversation during the trip because you only had surfing in common, or was it pretty seamless?
After the four or five days of hanging with ’em, it felt like we could’ve hung out forever. I always tell people, “I don’t have a college education, but I have a master’s degree in how to deal with people and how to get along with people, because I’ve had a lifetime full of that.” Magazine or video parts mean you’re living on a boat in Indonesia with eight strangers for two weeks. I can adapt well to people. I’m also at a point where I don’t really worry so much about fitting in because I’m definitely on the dark side of the moon of my surf career.
Grayson’s a huge personality and a really gnarly, well-known skater, but I hadn’t really hung out with him much prior to this film. There’s not a chance that there’s a dull moment; the guy tells the wildest stories and never lets the conversation die. Connor’s just an insane, top-caliber surfer. I had traveled with Connor quite a bit, but it hadn’t been for a really long time.
You’re from Central Coast, California, right?
I’m essentially right at the bottom of Big Sur. Cambria Haas, right in that zone.
It’s pretty solitary and more local at a lot of spots there. And in a lot of your film parts, you’re depicted as venturing off and doing your own thing. Is that intentional?
Yeah, it is pretty desolate around here. Especially back when I was filming a ton, I hit that age where everybody else went on to do other things in their lives. I was fortunate that I got to keep surfing, so I would just find myself by myself with a filmer. I’m like, “oh, I could just go do a shitty straight air with no backdrop or I’m like, wait, wouldn’t that air look better if I was up against the cliff?”
I just started seeking out little nooks and crannies around the central coast that aren’t considered real surf spots, but they always looked nice. I thought, “if I do a shitty air with a nice backdrop, it’s a clip.” I was drawn to those spots because I had a camera, and that would be very frowned upon in my area. I know the cut and dry surf spots, and then I know that up the way, in the corner at the cove, there’s one wave every half hour that looks good. I’m like, “well, I know exactly where people aren’t gonna be surfing ’cause it’s not a real wave,” so I’d go there.
There’s such a juxtaposition of showing up anywhere north of L.A. with cameras or with more than one person. Did you run into any problems when you went north with Connor and Grayson?
I go up there and surf when I don’t have a camera, so it was a little weird, for sure. We needed waves for the film, so it wasn’t like, “oh, we could just go down the beach and surf the shitty peak.” It was like, “sorry guys, can we grab some scraps?” But all the guys that really mattered, the locals, were totally cool with it. They gave us all the waves we wanted.
Grayson Fletcher, Nate Tyler, and Conner Coffin on set.
I heard that you were initially involved in this film with Perry as a personal project. I was interested in that evolution and how it went working with Perry again.
Perry and I approached 805 to make a real surf film, but they knew I was leaning a lot more art heavy. We came up with this idea of traveling, surf, art, culture stuff, but it was based around me. With where I was at in life and my comfort levels, I just didn’t feel like I could hold a film by myself – surfing wise or art. I didn’t want to be that in-the-face of everyone.
I procrastinated and didn’t get back to him and it didn’t evolve. I was almost silencing that whole thing because I was uncomfortable. It was kinda like, “well, hey, we’ve put this budget aside, so what do you think about this?” After spitballing ideas it grew into what it was, a film showcasing three California surfers and skateboarders. It was a big evolution.
By bringing in Grayson and Connor, were you forced to grow your perception on what a surf film could be? This film feels different than the sort of “surf porn” style movie we see a lot of normally.
Yeah, it was totally different film than anything I’ve really been a part of. That’s also the evolution of how now, a brand wants to tell a story. Before, when I was part of similar films, it was more cut and dry. A brand would say, “we wanna create marketing behind this film and we’ll give you X amount of money and you guys travel the world and make a straight up surf-only zero-dialogue film.” I feel super fortunate that I was able to evolve with that.
Do you ever watch surf films, or are you just so surfed out at this point?
I still watch surf films, but I’m more of like archival YouTube nostalgia film stuff. I’ll be driving and listening to a song, and I’m like, “wait, I remember that song from that section.” I’ll get home later. I’m like, “I wonder if that exists.” I’ll look it up and it’s Rob Machado Momentum 2000-whatever. I’m like, “holy shit. Everybody’s put everything on YouTube!”
It’s interesting you bring up the Momentum Generation, ’cause your style definitely seems nineties influenced. Even with people like Christian Fletcher and the air show. But then there’s so much style and grace in your surfing, too. Who do you look to for style inspiration?
That was the weird thing about being on that trip with Greyson, because every time we’d be sitting there eating dinner and talking, I’d be like, “dude, your dad was my favorite surfer.”
I was a grom when Christian was in his prime. He was so inspiring to me. It was always Christian Fletcher, Rob Machado, Kani, Tom Curren… that whole generation really influenced me. I don’t think they’re Momentum Generation, like a little bit after. I just remember growing up watching the show and any of those later Taylor Steel films. I was influenced by everyone, the Hobgoods, everybody. I would dream so big watching those guys. I’m at a different stage in life now, but it felt so different as a kid. When you’d watch a film, it was just like, that was it. That was your only thing in life.
You have a lot of parallels with Curren, not just in surfing. He was so family oriented, like you, in an era where it wasn’t necessarily the cool thing to do to settle down with a wife and potentially kids and have that more settled lifestyle. Your dad’s narration was so powerful on your part, and it seems like family values are such a big aspect of who you are as a person. Do you think that affected your surfing career or life path?
I’m sure it did, to some degree. Prior to even having kids, I really appreciated where my life was going with my wife. We were married for a while before we had kids, and I traveled a ton and then we had kids and I still got to travel a ton. But it’s weird. It’s hard. Looking back, I actually think a lot about how much I used to travel when my kids were really young. It’s strange to think how self-centered being a pro surfer is.
I feel a little bit of guilt that I was striving so hard. I was gone six or eight months out of the year. And, as my kids got older and I had more of them, it was just like, “oh my God.” It’s so obvious that I just don’t travel well when my kids get to a certain age, too. That’s been a big part of it: realizing that I’m so openly accepting a different stage of life.
Do I think things could have been different if I was just some single dude? I would’ve stayed on the road a lot more and maybe had more surf opportunities, but I don’t ever look back and think, “God, I wish that would’ve happened.” I’m so happy with the way it played out. I feel like I would’ve missed out on so many family opportunities, I would’ve missed out on this whole other art opportunity I have, and working with my hands. I like the idea that I’m getting to live life in phases, because that’s really special to me. That’s what makes me feel fortunate in this world.
I’m wondering if there are any parallels between the process of making a sculpture and the process of making a surf film start to finish.
Funny, I’ve never been asked that. There are definitely correlations between the two: they’re both insanely hard, they take a lot of planning and they take a lot of luck. With the surf film, it takes so much luck to get waves and have all the dots connect.
The sculptures are in a much more controlled environment in my studio. But there’s still so many variables. Something can take an entire afternoon to balance. The center of gravity can be off, and you’re chasing it for like a week, so there’s parallel there.
Interesting. Do you ever find it difficult to step back from the look and feel of a film since you’re an artist as well? Or do you just kind of give full control to whoever’s directing it?
I overdo it to where, by the end, I feel like every person I work with on a film has a cooling off period (laughs). I love to be heavily involved, but I know when I’m being annoying and I back off. This film was unique in the sense where it was Perry and his good friend, Dana Shaw, helping him with editing. Those two had a really good working relationship, ’cause they were so opposite in filmmaking. I had a couple things where I was trying to be hands-on when Perry and I worked together, but for the most part I was pretty hands off in this one.
You’ve come back to surfing a couple times after it almost feels like you’ve pulled away from it. What draws you back in?
Just so it’s stated clearly, I never tried to leave it. I’ve always loved it, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be: a pro surfer. But growing up, even when I was doing my best, traveling and getting huge opportunities like the film parts, I never felt like I totally fit in, talent wise and socially.
It always felt like professional surfing was gonna get ripped out from under me, like I was living yearly-contract-to-yearly-contract. It always felt like, come November, they’re telling me I’m done in December. I lived every year like that. I never tried to leave it, I was always just building something in the background.
For the first few years, I was hyper-focused on building this off-grid yurt and making it to where my wife and I didn’t have bills. That evolved into buying our first home and I just spent all of our money and all of our time on learning the trades of building and everything I could, because all my family’s in that. I was just like, “if I’m gonna get dropped next year at least I’ll be a contractor or something.”
It’s always evolved like that. As fortunate as I feel about surfing, and I’ve always taken it seriously, a hundred percent, I always feel like it can get ripped out. I’m always prepping, I’m like a pro surfer doomsday prepper (laughs).
