About the Book

Surfing Adventures of the ‘60s, ‘70s and Beyond

These stories offer a fresh perspective not only for the modern day surfer but for anyone who grew up during that '60s or '70s era or is an avid or even casual fan of surfing. Filled with original surfing poems by the author, surfing and beach songs of that time, some paintings and photographs, this book is a series of short stories that will stimulate your imagination of what it may have been like then.

 

The premise of this book is to share these adventures about the wonderful sport of surfing that he and his friends enjoyed and to take you back to that amazing and carefree time. These stories about Andy and his surfing buddies’ experiences offer an insightful, funny and unique perspective in the lives of a few young, average, everyday surfers, just trying to get to the beach to go surfing without getting into too much trouble.

 

Come ride the waves and let these stories take you back to the beach so you can surf again! Relive your surfing experiences and enjoy some funny surfing stories along the way through the easy reading of Surfing Adventures of the ‘60s, ‘70s and Beyond.

Hey Andy, Let’s Go

(Summer of 1969)

Beep, Beep-beep beep

“Hey Andy, it 5:30 let’s go.” someone yells from the car.

 

Instrumental:Let’sGo—TheRouters

 

I open my window and see my surfing buddies in front of my house on Kingsley Avenue in Pomona, (Southern) California, waiting for me. His dad bought an old Yellow Chevy Helm’s panel bread truck for a couple hundred bucks and that’s what we used for our wheels to get to the beach. In the glove box, they found the old whistle that the driver used to blow while driving through the neighborhood to let people know he was coming by. Sort of like what the ice cream trucks used to do by playing their music. There are only two seats and plenty of room for about eight surfboards and up to eight guys in the back. Plus we could put about six boards on top.

 

“What time is it?” I yell back.

“Five-thirty, let’s go,” they yell back.

“Ok I’ll be right down.” I said.

 

I already had my board on the front porch and my surfing trunks ready, sun tan lotion, some surf wax, about $20, my sleeping bag, and I was ready to go. Oh yeah, don’t forget a beach towel and sunglasses. As I run out the door with all my stuff, I grab my board and jump in the back. There are already three other guys in the back: Gary, Chris and Sefo. Dave and his younger brother Ed are in front; we still have to pick up Charley and Leo. The guys are really psyched and looking for a good surf weekend. Today is Saturday; we’ve all got the weekend free and we’re headed to Cardiff-by-the-Sea to meet a friend of one of the guys who has a house next to an empty lot a couple of blocks from the beach. We’ll be camping out on the empty lot. Turns out Edmund Shumpert is married and has three kids—about three, four, and five—who don’t like to wear any clothes and just take a leak whenever they gotta go, even if it’s right next to where we put our sleeping bags. Edmund is a famous sculptor, artist and surfing trophy designer, who has been making surfing trophies for a number of years.

By the time we get Charlie and Leo, it’s about 6:15 in the morning and we’ve got a 90 minute ride, maybe longer to get to Cardiff. There are several good spots there but the best is out at the point by the cliffs. There are two sets that break and both have some nice lefts and rights about 5-8' normally and a decent curl. On the trip there, we listen to Beach Boys, Jan and Dean, the Ventures, and other surf music. There’s an 8-track tape player that sometimes gets jammed when the tape sticks and we have to try and fix the tape by pulling it out and letting it roll back inside. It sometimes works but usually takes a long time of messing with it. Sometimes the tape just ends up in a big pile on the floor. Bummer, now you need to buy a new tape.

On the trip down, we have to sit on our sleeping bags because there are no seats in the back. The boards are stacked and tied on one side of the Helms truck and we are laid out on the other side, six guys in the back, bouncing around. Good thing the truck can’t go faster than 50 mph or we’d go flying sometimes when we hit a bump.

There’s two little windows out the back on each door just about waist high, but none on the sides, and one of the guys likes to moon girls that are right behind us. Soon after he does his full moon, you’d see the car take off past us with the girls laughing. Except for this one time when he got mooned back; in fact they drove by mooning us as they went by. It was hilarious; we thought that was a riot.

We finally arrived at the beach around 8:00 AM and found a parking spot, got our boards out, and went to check out the waves. Out of the eight of us, only four of us actually knew how to catch and ride a wave. Sefo was by far the best since he was Hawaiian and had been surfing in Hawaii since he was two. The waves are looking pretty good. The ones closest are breaking around 2-4' and the ones near the cliffs are a good eight feet or better. We can’t wait to get out. We get our boards waxed and we’re ready to hit the waves. The weather is great, around 80 degrees, it’s mid July, a nice offshore breeze which allows the waves to hang just long enough so you can drop in and get a nice tube. Just before we were about to go out, some locals show up and I guess they like to do their own thing because they took off all their clothes and put on their wet suits. When they noticed people were looking, they just shook their long hair and stood there with their arms spread like they were showing off or something. Well, this was the first time I’d ever seen someone change in public, let alone in the middle of the beach. It wasn’t so bad since I didn’t really care that the two guys got naked; but the two girls that were also changing into their wet suits was another story. This definitely was a first, for all of us. We were all around 16 to 18 and would always talk about how we’d like to be able to see into the girl’s locker room at school and then this happens. It was too bad the girls didn’t look much different from the guys, at least from the waist up. It was kind of disappointing but funny, nonetheless. I think that’s just about all they talked about all day after that. They all wanted to hang around where the girls were surfing but their boyfriends were getting kind of annoyed that they were hanging around so they left and went to another spot.

There weren’t that many people out, as usual for Cardiff, and we got some really good rides and after a couple of hours of surfing, most of us headed in for a rest. The guys that were just learning were trying out the smaller surf closer in and of course they were telling some tall tales about the “awesome” waves they were catching. In reality the waves they were on were about 2-4' and they mostly just rode in on the white water after it broke. But that’s what’s great about surfing because the stoke you get is great if you’re a first timer riding a two-foot wave of soupy white water and standing up for the first time, because now you’re hooked. Or if you’re an experienced surfer catching an eight-foot tube totally covered and just flying, your adrenaline is soaring and you can’t wait to go out and do it again. Because someday after enough practice, patience, perseverance, frustrations, and suffering through the wipeouts, they too, will finally catch that eight-foot tube and go flying through, get spit out the other end with that adrenaline and endomorphins soaring. It’s better than any high you could get from any artificial drug, more satisfying, great exercise, and it’s “legal” go figure. After resting a while, we head back out for more. The waves are really kicking today and it is one of the best days we’ve had here. Tonight’s going to be a full moon and we’re planning on going back out around 10 or 11 PM to do some night surfing. Only two of us have ever ridden at night, and I wasn’t one those two, so we figure this ought to be quite an experience.

Waxing up the surfboard

 

We stop at a hamburger joint to get some food and then when it gets dark the moon is out and we head back out. You can only surf at night with moonlight because otherwise you can’t see the waves. We’re out for about three hours before we head back in. Since I had never surfed at night before, I stayed on the smaller waves at first and eventually took some bigger waves. It was fun and I couldn’t wait for the next time I’d go night surfing. Some of the guys came in with these stories of these monster waves they caught and how he was standing on the nose of the board jumping up and down to keep the nose down so he could make the wave. I didn’t say much I just figured they were talking a lot of stuff. I don’t doubt they caught some waves but not the ten footers they were claiming.

Highway 1 Junction 10

The wide blue oceans with their rolling waves

Paint a picture, against the sky

The wind creates the waves of life

Where all is moving and oceans are alive

 

Here on the beach I gaze upon

The picture and the holy surfing ground

For all the waves appear the same

And all the surfers have a common frame

 

The roads of travel for surfers are long and narrow

The valley of rest is the hope of tomorrow

Rivers and streams, canals and lakes

Lead to the ocean, the largest of lakes

 

In the end one road, one path is left

A river, a stream, the ocean’s surf

In the end a mountain, a valley, the sea

That lead to Highway 1 Junction 10, the surfers dream

 

Andy, 11/13/1969

ISBN13 (TP) 978-1-4363-7831-4
ISBN13 (HB) 978-1-4363-7832-1