Geez, do I have to do everything for you guys

. A quick search of the internet and I was able to pull the following quotes (below). Although none them directly attribute Miki Dora’s nickname of ‘Da Cat’ to his feline moves while surfing, I think they are substantial enough to back up my claim regarding the origin of that nickname

. I’m sure more extensive research would turn up a direct quote to this effect. If I really gave a crap I would do this but I don't (give a crap,that is

!).
A few other thoughts:
Although Miki Dora was not a KBer, he was quite an interesting character and probably would made a good KBer

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I could not find a single word about him ever having sailed on a Hobie Cat or picture of him doing so. Although I am not saying he never did, I AM ABSOLUTELY 100% POSITIVE THAT HE DID NOT GET HIS NICKNAME FROM ANY ASSOCIATION WITH THE HOBIE CAT (so there)

!
For one thing, apparently he already had gained his nickname of ‘Da Cat” by 1957, yet I believe the Hobie Cat was not even invented until the 1960’s

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Anyway here is some more info on Miki Dora (1936-2002) with sources.
Mickey Chapin Dora, Miklos S. Dora III, Miki Dora, MSD III. The names are many, and so are the facets of the man they call "Da Cat." Mickey Dora is surfing's Black Knight, the consummate antihero of the Malibu era.
Born in Budapest, Hungary to Miklos and Ramona Dora (who soon divorced), his stepfather, the great surfer Gard Chapin, introduced the boy to the ways of the ocean and a life at the beach. Dora was a worthy student and an excellent test pilot for the surfboard Chapin bought him. "Chapin was one of the few guys who instantly recognized that my pintails would work," surfboard innovator Joe Quigg recalls. "I got ridiculed and (Bob) Simmons laughed at them, but Chapin got one, and he bought one for Mickey, and that was his first surfboard."
Young Dora was a touch iconoclastic from the get-go. His early plan to fire-bomb the shack at San Onofre would have been offensive even to his independently minded stepdad had he carried it out. Stories of Dora's youth abound; stories on his Malibu years and beyond are legend. But Da Cat's outrageous scams, ruses and poses mask a man of extreme sensitivity and brilliance -- in and out of the water.
With the advent of foam surfboards and the more maneuver-oriented surfing styles of the late '50s, Dora's subtle mastery of wave positioning and the nuances of board control set him apart from the pack at Malibu, and his appearances there became the fodder of legend. His deft mannerisms on and off the beach and calculatedly eccentric comings and goings epitomized the Jack Kerouac/James Dean cult of cool. Who knew what lurked behind those Ray Ban sunglasses?
After Gidget created a cinematic genre, Dora became a sometime stunt double for several of the early '60s Hollywood beach flicks beginning with 1964's Muscle Beach Party. He was also worked in Bikini Beach (1964), How to Stuff a Wild Bikini (1965), Beach Blanket Bingo (1965) and Ski Party (1965). He was featured as himself in Bill Delaney's Surfers: The Movie (1990).
In his halcyon days, Dora circulated mysteriously, sometimes penetrated the L.A. scene and lived an increasingly covert existence. Occasional interviews with the nascent surf media were veiled, cryptic and showed a penetrating and surreal wit. Above all, he was clearly oppressed by the accelerating loss of the idyllic world of his youth.
As his beloved Malibu increasingly swarmed with interlopers, Dora's go-outs became more like slalom runs as he wove intricate paths through scores of kooks, pushing and shoving his way along the zippering hollows. When accused of being ruthless, Dora told Surfer, "It's a lie. I'm vicious. We're all pushing and shoving, jockeying for position, and if I get the wave first -- if I'm in the best position -- then I feel I deserve it."
From
http://www.surfline.com/surfaz/dora_miki.cfm
In a gradual but very powerful way, seeing Miki Dora on that single ride changed all that.
Firstly, by opening my eyes to the exquisite beauty and grace of someone else’s surfing and the tremendous enjoyment that virtuosity could engender.
“One can see everything there is to see in Mickey Dora when he is surfing. He is quick, supremely conscious, and he is always the first to know when the waves are coming and where.
His timing and balance defy description. He is upon occasion even playful out there. He will segué into an impromptu session of “Quasimodo’s” and “Coffins” and “spinners” or he will simply surf backwards. For the most part, however, there is no one who takes his surfing any more seriously than” he does.*
From
http://www.surfwriter.net/mikis_tribute.htm
On the beach of Malibu in the mid-sixties I became aware of a dark shadowy figure wearing dark sunglasses at a time when nobody except movie stars and mobsters wore them. He was dressed in non beach attire of a black knee length trench coat looking like Paladin or some other gunslinger from an old western movie. He was older than the average salty gremmie of the day.
The age advantage combined with his unique perspective allowed Miki Dora to manipulate and play with the surf scene like a cat playing with a mouse. This enigmatic wildcard did not hang around the beach and seemed to have a real life beyond the beach which seemed strange to the rest of us beach bums. He found the social structure of the beach claustrophobic and too confining for his self image. In time his absence and conscious separation from the surfing crowd bred his mysterious aura to those of us who surfed and languished all day at the beach.
From
http://www.westwindsurf.org/pages/revie ... _dora.html
Above the crowd and outside the mainstream - this was the separate, arrogant reality upon which Mickey Dora built the legend of the Cat.
From
http://atomicbride.com/dora.html
Of all the surfers of the Sixties, Micki Dora was, by far, the most notorious. Dora had started making a name for himself in the Southern California surfing scene of the "Pre-Gidget Era," in the mid-1950s. By 1957, he was already well-known throughout the surfing world. As champion surfer and fellow Malibu rider Mike Doyle reminds us: "the unrivaled king of Malibu in those days was Mickey Dora, 'Da Cat.'" The way Dora rode was widely emulated and his attitude toward the commercialization of the sport was eventually shared by many of us. Dora was extremely influential throughout the 1960s and 1970s. His "legend" continues on, despite his death in January 2002. And, although less so than in those days of yore, the Dora mystique continues to effect surf culture -- more so than we know or some would care to admit.
From
http://www.legendarysurfers.com/surf/le ... _dora.html