Although it doesn't roar like it once did, but is still considered one of the best small rights in the world.

Malibu has been crowded since photographer Leroy Grannis returned from World War II and found the place "mobbed" with 12 guys on the point. Since then, it's been the focal point of hot-dog surfing and Southern California beach culture, from Quigg and Kivlin to Tubesteak, Moondoggie and Gidget to Dora, Fain and Carson to Riddle and Pratt to Sarlo and Daley to current top amateurs Anthony Petruso and Pascal Stansfield to today's hot young longboarders, Josh Farberow and Kassia Meador. To say Malibu is crowded is like saying the Pacific Ocean has a lot of saltwater -- it's a given.

With this in mind, the people in the lineup are almost as much fun to watch as the wave is to ride. They are a microcosm of L.A. itself: rebels, punks, cowboys, models, godlike masters, floundering kooks and huddled masses yearning to be free. There's also the largest collection of graceful fat guys you'll ever find.

Malibu consists of three loosely defined take-offs on a cobblestone point, with the occasional sandbar on the inside. On large swells, the points can connect into a ride over a quarter-mile long. Generally thought of as a summer break, the 'Bu will also take west and even big northwest swells.

The smaller inside break, First Point, is by far the most familiar and the best-shaped wave of the bunch -- a mechanical, mesmerizing wave to watch. Behind all the history and beneath the clutter of boards and bodies, there is still a gem of a wave that folds at the speed of a noseride.

The next spot out, Second Point or Kiddie Bowl, is a much shorter -- though faster -- performance wave. It sometimes closes out with swell or tide changes, but is also a good escape from the crowd if you keep a sly eye out. If you get lucky, you can connect the section into First and spray all the longboarders.

Third Point is the farthest out and serves up the fastest bowly wave in the area -- state-of-the-art speed surfing. Dominated by an aggro shortboard crew, it's a wonderful study in mob mentality: the predators, the prey, the shouting, the inevitable crack of boards slamming together and the onlookers' mischievous snickers. Most regulars, though, hold the opinion that all you need is one to make your day.

The downside of all this perfection is the pollution. There are now approximately 12,000 residents in the lower Malibu creek area, most with septic tanks that leach into the lagoon, which, along with problems created by the Tapia Water Facility, has led to one of the worst pollution problems in the state. When the lagoon empties into the sea, either by rainfall or bulldozer, bacteria levels at Malibu go off the Richter. There have probably been a few winter pileups on PCH caused by surfers slamming on their brakes, stunned at the sight of Malibu's empty brown perfection. To a daredevil few, the E. coli warnings serve only as crowd control. Without a doubt, it's the most tempting cesspool you'll ever see. -- jaz kaner