Throughout the 1960s, The Surfers served as ambassadors of Hawaiian music to mainland audiences. They regularly played upscale nightclubs in Hollywood and Las Vegas, such as the fabled Flamingo and Stardust clubs, and toured as far east as Chicago. However, during those years, Hawaii was just another touring destination for them. "Our base was in California," Clay says. "It was a lot easier to travel from California than it was to travel from Hawaii six or eight or nine months of the year. Our families, our wives and children, were all in California, and we would commute from our homes to wherever." Married life took drummer Bernie Ching out the group shortly after they recorded an album of motion-picture themes for Warner Brothers Records. At his wife's request, Bernie quit to spend more time at home. He was replaced by Joe Stevens, another native Hawaiian musician despite his English surname. By 1969, all of the boys were tired of touring, and ready to move back home. Yet according to Clay, their return was fraught with anxiety. "When we first came back to Hawaii as a group, in 1969, we weren't sure if we were gonna be accepted! There were no "acts" (like us) in Hawaii . . . we started in California, and so we were unique. I guess we were accepted because we were so different." Their years on the mainland had given The Surfers a degree of professionalism that was new in Hawaiian music circles. They added Hollywood gloss and polish with what Clay liked to call "a Hawaiian spirit." The combination proved to be a potent one, and The Surfers were welcomed at the islands' top venues: Don The Beachcomber's, The Outrigger Waikiki, The Club C'Est Si Bon and the Imperial Hawaii Hotel, just to name a few. Buddy Naluai joined the group during this period. "He was just kinda hanging around in Waikiki," Clay recalls. I said, 'Hey Buddy! Come work with us.'" With brother Buddy on board, it was more of a family affair than ever, and for another decade, The Surfers sang and played and plied their unique brand of entertainment. They also continued to record albums for independent labels, winning critical acclaim with a 1974 collection called Shells. When the ride finally ended for the group, family concerns were once again the catalyst.

In January of 1980, the Naluai family patriarch was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease. It was devastating news for the entire family, but Clayton Naluai was affected in a very profound way. "I was 43 years of age at that time. I thought, my father could've retired when he was 43 . . . he could've had at least 20 years of retirement!" Of course, Alzheimer's can be hereditary, and this fact obviously weighed heavily on his mind. Time became precious for Clay, and he decided that however much he had left would be better spent with his wife and children. "On January 16, 1980, I said to my brother Al, 'I'm stopping,'" he reveals. "And so I just stopped, and that's why the group broke up. When we broke up, Joe (Stevens) went and did things on his own, and my brother went and did things on his own." Pat Sylva soon founded his own group, and Clay settled into an early retirement. However, The Surfers had one more wave to ride.

One day, Clay and his wife Margaret ran into Hawaiian superstar Don Ho in the parking lot of a Honolulu movie theater. Unaware that The Surfers had broken up, Ho expressed interest in having the group open his new stage show for him. Clay explained that the group no longer existed, and when Ho suggested a reunion, he stated unequivocally that he "didn't want to be up at two or three o'clock in the morning, working!" But the Hawaiian music superstar was not easily dissuaded. He eventually talked Al and Clay into an opening act, but only on Clay’s terms. It had to last no longer than fifteen minutes! "I'd leave home about a quarter to eight, get there, park my car, walk backstage, and change my clothes just in time for the announcer to say ladies and gentlemen! The Surfers!" Clay chuckles. "And then we'd walk out, just Clay and Al. We'd perform, and fifteen minutes later, I'd go back, change my clothes again, and I'm home! That was fine with me. At that time, (Don Ho) was appearing at Duke Kahanamoku's club, in the International Marketplace. Then he went over to the Hilton Hawaiian Village Dome." As popular as ever with audiences, Al and Clay remained part of the Don Ho Show until the Hawaiian Village Dome closed, and then Clay promptly went back into retirement. On rare occasions, though, the two-man edition of The Surfers would reunite . . . for instance, to entertain aboard the cruise ship Independence in the year 2000, or to record duets like "You Gotta Feel Aloha," which became a local hit.

Al was recording an album and preparing to launch a solo career when tragedy struck. "One day, he asked me to bring him something," Clay remembers, "and I went to take it to him. I noticed he was very . . . he looked very drawn. He was still performing and recording. I actually said to him, you need to stop . . . you're killing yourself. Stop! (But) he didn't." On March 10, 2001, heart disease claimed Alan Naluai at age 62. Although he'd suffered an earlier heart attack, his death came as a complete shock to his family and friends. His funeral was held at Kawaiaha'o Church in Honolulu. "He was a very likeable person," Clay says, "but I'm prejudiced about that." The three thousand mourners who crowded the church on March 18 proved that Al's likeability was much more than a matter of prejudice. Music from his solo CD, which was issued posthumously, was performed at the memorial service. He was cremated, and his ashes were scattered in the ocean off Waikiki . . . an appropriate burial for a man who became famous as a Surfer. In March 2005, the surviving members of The Surfers (including Bernie Ching) reunited in Honolulu for a one-off benefit performance for the American Heart Association. Stepping to the microphone, Joe Stevens told the capacity crowd at Kapono’s Lounge that the group’s performance that night was in honor of Alan’s memory.

Today, forty-six years after his first Aikido lesson from Sensei Tohei, Clayton Naluai is himself a sixth dan Aikido sensei who runs his own school of instruction in Honolulu. He has a daughter who performs as a dancer, and a nephew, Alan Naluai, Jr, who carries on the family's musical tradition as an entertainer in Sweden. Clay looks back fondly on his years as an entertainer and (though he’s loath to admit it) an Asian-American sex symbol! "I enjoy entertaining now," he admits, "only I don't do it regularly anymore." With his rich, masculine speaking voice, burning bedroom eyes, and wavy white hair, it’s a sure bet that this silver fox can still get the cocoanut milk flowing when ladies are around! The Surfers, along with their contemporaries Don Ho and Alfred Apaka, brought a higher standard of musicianship to Hawaiian entertainment. Yet if you ask Clay what the most important element in the group's success was, he’d say it was their ability to have fun together. "Our act evolved from just singing to singing and having fun! (It's) all right to get up on stage and enjoy yourself. That's why we were together for so long." Fun, sex appeal, Hollywood flavor and Hawaiian spirit. There you have it in a (cocoa)nut shell . . . the story of The Surfers.