The Ocean

Here is a video that expresses the beauty of the ocean and being in it.

I love the ocean. I grew up by it. As far back as I can remember the ocean has been a part of my life. When I was very young, my dad would come home from work and the family would pile into the blue and white Dodge van and we would head down to the beach in Carlsbad for an evening at the beach playing in the sand and water, and having a fire. The usual spot was right by Offshore Surf Shop. Back in the day there was just parking at the top of the cliff in the dirt beside the road. There was an access road down to the beach that the life guards used for their vehicles and the rest us used for walking down to the beach.

It was on one of these outings to the beach that I went from being a little guy to being one of the big kids. Growing up in a family of six kids means that no matter where you went there was always a lot of trappings to be hauled from the van to the family hang-out spot. Towels, cooler, drinks, toys, stuff... Even then I knew there were advantages to being one of the little guys. I distinctly recall never being asked to being one of the family pack animals. We showed up somewhere and it was time to run and play for me. Meanwhile, Kirk and Cheri and Sue where huffing all the gear into place. Until the day Dad deemed it time for me to take the next step in life. I had to carry something!

"Here, Paul. You carry this down to the beach. You're not a little guy anymore."

Who would have thought standing in front of Offshore Surf Shop could be such momentous time in life. Responsibility showed up. From that time on I would be required to take on more and more. Little-guy days were gone, and big-kid status started right there by the side of the ocean.

When I got old enough to ride the bus on my own, a few friends and I would grab our Boogie Boards and with a brown-bag lunch in hand and towel over our shoulders we would catch the bus early in the morning in Vista and ride it over to Warm Water Jetty, just down the shore from Offshore, and spend the day there. In the water for hours we'd ride the waves and then lie on the beach. Then we'd go out and do body surfing and wrestling in the waves.

Eventually we'd cross the street to the lagoon and swim across to the railroad trestles. Then it would be hours of jumping off the bridge into the lagoon. The fun thing to do was to climb up on the rail and wait for the Amtrak train to come rolling down the track. The train would be going something like a million miles an hour with its horn blasting. Someone told us that once there was this kid that was standing on the rail when the train came and he waited just a second too long before he jumped and the suction of the train's slip stream sucked the kid off the rail and onto the tracks where he was instantly sliced into two pieces. We believed every word of it. So we'd try to show how daring we were by waiting for that dangerous moment right before it was too late and then we'd jump 35 feet down to the salty water. I never did see anyone sucked back into the train's deadly wheels, but I do know of one girl whose arm was broken when she hit the water after being unexpectedly pushed from the rail by a friend.

When I got older I traded my boogie board up for a surfboard and a whole new life was found. Being a surfer is not just a sport. It truly is a way of life, a way of thinking. Being in the ocean for hours on end and riding the the ocean's gift of waves baptizes you into a special clan of people. It's an individual sport that is best done in with your friends. I've been out plenty of times on my own, but the best times have always been with friends.

The whole thing was an event. Your buddy would pick you up before sunup and you'd drive to the beach together listening to tunes and telling stories. Once at the beach you'd check out the waves and debate whether this was the spot to surf or head off to another. Then there was the prep time of suiting up (if it was cold) and waxing the boards with coconut scented wax. Hit-the-water time came and we'd paddle out to the line up. Trading off catching waves. Riding the last one in. Back to the car. Stripping the suits off and then a quick stop for donuts, and then home.

But the whole time is spent with a pal. Talking about life. Sharing our dreams. Commiserating the loss of a girlfriend. Teasing each other. Laughing. John Crouch and I were surf pals. He had green Ford Pinto. Poor guy. But it was perfect for surf racks and going back an forth to the beach. I was surfing with John the day I realized I was a man.

We live in a society that has no real definition of when it is that you pass from child to adult. Many societies have rituals that declare this passage for the boy. On this day you are a man! But there is no such ceremony where I grew up. I guess you could point at 18 (you can legally smoke and be tried as an adult) or high school graduation or when you turn 21... Somewhere in there. For me this passage was a realization.

John and I were in Oceanside. My eighteenth birthday had recently passed and graduation was around the corner. We were both sitting in the line up all by ourselves and the sky was grey. The waves were just okay and inconsistent, which means we spent more time waiting than surfing. We were talking about life and girls and a thought struck me like a lightning bolt.

"Hey, John. I can legally get married."

I remember that we just kind of looked at each other. We were the same age (John is a few months older than me) so the idea was true for both of us. It was sobering. And something changed at that moment. There was no ceremony. No one handed me a man card. But something changed in that moment.  Childhood ended. Adulthood started. That elusive "stepping over" happened. Right there in the water. In the ocean.

It was like that with my surfer friends. Life was figured out while sitting on a surfboard with your buddies. A million dollars spent on a therapist wouldn't have the same results of hashing it out between waves. One minute you are talking about your last ride, and the next you are saying, You know what I'd like to do one day? The sting of a break up was washed away in the waves as a friend listened to the story. The worries of life's details just seemed so much less significant as the sun rose behind you and the on coming waves rose before you during a dawn patrol session with a dude you surfed with.

I have some great friends today. But still, there is just something special about those wave riders. John Crouch, John Means, Jon Faure, Aaron Stewart, Jeremy Wright, Mike Merlock. These were my main surfing friends. We stood on the water together. Pulled towels off each other while changing. Road trips to Mexico. Banana pancakes together. Night surfing. There was laughter. Some times tears. But mostly our hearts became knit together while sitting in the ocean.

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