December 31, 2010 Friday

Tribute to Jim Sylvia

I received the following email from Mark the archaeologist.

Loren,

Something perhaps to note in your blog.

Jim Sylvia, Norcal surf pioneer, passed away on Dec 7th at the age of 79 and his memorial was this past weekend. Jim along with fellow Stinson Beach lifeguard Bill Wilson are credited in the “Stormrider Guide, North America” as being the first to surf Bolinas, Point Reyes, and Stinson Beaches back in the pre-wetsuit 1950s. Jim is also credited with being the first to surf South Jetty in Humboldt Bay.

I knew Jim my whole life, early on he being a teacher along with my father in the Sonoma Valley Unified School District (when I was really small, my family and Jim's young family shared a duplex). During the summer months Jim was a lifeguard at Stinson Beach, a position he held until 1972. He moved to Eureka in the mid-60s to teach and coach at College of the Redwoods. Jim was the real deal, his surf transport being a 1949 Ford Woody and he still had an early 60s O'Neill board that he used back in the day.

I would see Jim from time to time when he was visiting my folks, and he loved to talk about surfing. He would tell me how they would wear wool sweaters to stay warm while in the water and would start beach fires, often fueled by discarded tires, to bring the feeling back to their numb bodies; they surfed year round. Although he started his surfing career down in Santa Barbara, he loved the raw nature of Norcal.

Anyway, as we surf in Jim’s footsteps, I thought it might be worth a mention,

Mark

After receiving the above email I asked my friend Scott, a long time resident of Stinson Beach and former chief lifeguard for several years, if he knew Jim Sylvia. Yes he knew him because Jim always came back for the annual Stinson Beach Lifeguards reunions. Jim was the Supervisory Lifeguard (i.e. Chief) at Stinson Beach after Fred Van Dyke and before Scott. Jim had the reputation of keeping all the local guards in-line and professional in those days. Scott also mentioned that Jim was a nationally ranked wrestler and a Judo competitor and instructor.

Thanks to the wonders of Google I was able to uncover several other facts about this extraordinary individual. First his surfing exploits:

While attending UC Santa Barbara in the early 50’s, Jim worked as a lifeguard and took up surfing at Carpinteria Beach, a sport he loved. Quick side-note here, he must have surfed Rincon which is just around the corner from Carpinteria. In 1959 Jim and his buddy Billy Wilson, both seasonal lifeguards at Stinson Beach, surfed Streamers Lane in Santa Cruz and they were the first to surf Wood Beach, the north side of Point Reyes. In the mid-sixties, Jim became the first to surf the South Jetty in Humboldt Bay. Both of these “firsts” were highlighted in the August 1991 issue of Surfing Magazine in an article entitled “First Surfs.”

Lets pause and think about this a second. Surfing in the cold waters of Marin and Humboldt counties before wetsuits and leashes, on heavy balsa wood boards in the open and rough seas of Point Reyes and Eureka, this had to be one tough individual.

Tough is putting it mildly. Check out some of the non-surfing facts about Jim Sylvia.

Born in 1931 and raised in foster homes in San Francisco, Sebastopol and Brentwood.

In 1952 as a sophomore at Santa Rosa Junior College where he was a linebacker on the football team, Jim was drafted into the army.

The army formed a new unit and after six months Jim joined it. He was one of 700 men that became the original Special Operations Forces, later known as the Green Berets.

Jim graduated from UC Santa Barbara, where he played center on the football team, with a degree in Physical Education. He went to graduate school at San Francisco State University and earned a Masters degree in Health Education.

While there Jim joined the Olympic Club and at the age of 28 took up wrestling. He did ok as a wrestler, he even wrestled against the noted wrestler and famous novelist Ken Kesey (One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest). It was wrestling that got Jim thinking about teaching. He felt he was a better instructor than a wrestler.

In 1965 Jim became one of the original faculty members of the new College of the Redwoods and he remained there until he retired in 1997. He taught and coached wrestling, football, track, baseball and cross-country.

He always had an interest in Japanese Samurai and thus he took up Japanese martial arts. He earned a third degree black belt in Kendo and a fourth degree black belt in the Japanese sword arts of Laido. Jim had the opportunity to travel to Japan many times, and he led six U.S.- Japan cultural exchange wrestling teams that competed throughout Japan.

Jim was twice inducted into the College of the Redwoods Hall of Fame and on May 16, 2009 he received a Life Time Service Award from the California Wrestling Hall of Fame.

Rest in peace Jim Sylvia: northern California surf pioneer, long time Stinson Beach lifeguard, Green Beret, coach, teacher, husband, father, grandfather, member of the Wrestling Hall of Fame and all-time good guy.

December 15, 2010 Wednesday

Bolinas	Patch
10:00 am to 11:20 am	2' to 3', occasional 4'
Mid dropping tide	Offshore breeze to no wind
High overcast to patchy sun	Fun but frustrating session

Jack the Dave Sweet team rider had just put his board in the back of his truck and was sitting in the driver’s seat with his wetsuit on as I came back from checking the surf at the overlook above the Groin.

“Jack, are you taking off for some other break?” I asked.

“No. I’m cold and I’m going home to take a nice warm shower.” Jack had just finished a good session at the Groin, but now the outgoing tide was impacting the waves. He recommended that I go to the Patch.

“Loren, I heard Jaime on the radio last night.” Jack was referring to our surf buddy Jaime the starving artist cartoonist. He has a show on the local West Marin Community Radio station, KWMR (89.9 FM).

“It was cool.” Jack added with enthusiasm. “He plays good rock music and he gave a salute to us. He said, ‘Here’s to the Bolinas dawn patrol. You know who you are: Mary, Frank, Russ, Marty, Jack, Hans and Loren.’ It was so cool. You should check it out. I can’t get it in Sebastopol so I listen to it on the computer. Just Google KWMR and click on KWMR LIVE and you get the live broadcast. Check it out.” And with that he drove off.

I followed up on this and yes there was Jaime in the station’s schedule:

Faultline Radio with Jaime Crespo - Curing your insomnia by spinning random music randomly each and every Tuesday evening from 8:30 pm -10:30 pm (PST).

The surf had come up overnight, a mix of NW and south swells. Internet data had: 8 ft NW swell at 11 seconds and a 2 ft south wind swell at 8 seconds and a water temperature of 54 degrees. The weather guys on TV were predicting a series of storms coming in tomorrow and lasting through Sunday. Thus I had to go out today. Only three surfers were at the Groin when I arrived and six were out at the Patch: Mary, Susan who always wears sunglasses in the water, Jaime, Hans and the standup guys Russ and Frank. That’s Frank on a small one in the above photo. The outgoing current from the lagoon was knocking down the waves at the Groin. The Patch waves were clean, small and slow. Jack was right; the Patch was the call this morning.

Again, while suiting up my friends at the Patch all left. Frank, Russ and Jaime were toweling off and jazzed me about “the lunch patrol” as I headed for the water. On the beach, Hans was wrapping his leash around his favorite Bear longboard. Mary had just exited the water and Susan was paddling from the Patch to the Groin.

I paddled out to Robinson’s reef, the inside right peak at the Patch to join Tom and another surfer. The morning and the waves were beautiful, lots of God shots of sun beams pouring through breaks in the clouds onto the glassy blue-gray peaks of the Patch. But the waves were slow, weak and had no push. With the tide going out the water was shallow and the larger rocks were beginning to show. All three of us independently came to the conclusion to move south of the reef over the sand. Our tactic was to catch the waves over the reef, cut right and connect with the steep shore break over the sand. Easier said than done. I only managed to do it a couple of times. While paddling out I looked sideways to see Tom tucked into a squat, ass over heels, in the curl of a well-formed three-foot right peeling wave.

After an hour, the three of us ended up way inside going for the shore break. We had this nice little peak of fast curls to ourselves for a half an hour. Tom and I caught the same wave and connected with the inside curl and hummed along until it finally closed out in knee-high water, ten feet from dry sand. That did it for me. I waved good-bye to Tom and headed in.

Mary, Robert and Pete were sunning themselves on the seawall as I walked by. They inquired about my session.

“Fun, but frustrating and it’s getting better on the inside peak.”


Click on the link below to listen to Jaime’s radio show -

KWMR 89.9 West Marin Radio

December 13, 2010 Monday

Bolinas	Patch
9:40 am to 10:50 am	2', sets to 3'
Mid dropping tide	Slight offshore breeze to no wind
High overcast and high fog	OK session

Work on the seawall was the story today. Big construction and earth moving equipment and the appropriate crew of people were gathered at the top of the ramp when I arrived this morning. From the cars I could tell that the regulars were already in the water: Mary, Marty, David who rides the Becker board, Jaime the starving artist cartoonist, Hans and standup surfers Frank and Russ. The construction crew had placed sheets of plywood against both sides of the ramp, and the “jefes” were standing on the seawall discussing the project.

“What are you guys going to do?” I asked.

“Fortify the wall,” one jefe responded. “You can see that the wall is slowly giving way.”

“So what are you going to do with the naked woman?” Years ago someone had sculpted a figure of a nude stretch over the top of one of the sandstone boulders. It has become a landmark for all the Bolinas regulars.

“Don’t worry, we’ll protect that one.”

I walked to the Patch to take some photos of Mary, Hans, Russ and Frank. On my way back, I had to walk up against the left wall because the lead jefe was slowly driving a massive tractor-tread backhoe down the ramp. They were getting ready to move some rocks around. I went up to the overlook above the Groin. While taking some photos a huge rock carrying dump truck arrived, turned up the road to the overlook and backed down the ramp to dump its load of boulders. That’s it in the above photo. After suiting up and with board in hand I had to wait patiently at the top of the ramp until the massive backhoe had finished grabbing a boulder out of the truck, turning and dropping it on the sand in front of the north side of the ramp. Seeing my chance I dashed up the steps and across the seawall to get to the Patch.

Out in the water and despite my poor hearing and earplugs I could hear the constant groan of the backhoe and the clash of tumbling boulders being dropped at the base of the seawall.

“What’s the best way to get around the machinery?” Mary asked.

“Go across the top of the seawall and wait at the top of the stairs for an opening to dash up the ramp.”

Around eleven I thought about going in and looked to see what was happening with the construction project. By now a big bulldozer for pushing around the sand had joined in. The tractors had stopped. Both the backhoe and bulldozer were parked on the sand at the base of the ramp.

“It must be lunch time,” I thought. “But why stop? They have to get this done while the tide is low.”

Three guys with push brooms were sweeping up the ramp as I walked by after my session.

“Hey are you guys through already?” I asked the guy sweeping up the lower part of the ramp.

“I don’t know! I’m here to clean up someone else’s mess.”

A streak of black fluid three feet wide stretched from the top of the ramp to the bottom. The sweeping crew had spread an absorbent that looked like cat litter on the fluid and were now sweeping it up. At the top of the ramp were a fire truck, three county pickup trucks, a sheriff’s car and one large purple dump truck still loaded with rocks. Lots of people were standing around: the sheriff, three truck drivers, the whole construction crew and five Marin county workmen with shovels, brooms and bags of cat litter. Another driver sat in his truck waiting his turn to dump his load; he fired up his engine, made the difficult maneuver to turn the truck around and slowly drove off with its load still in place. Obviously one of the trucks had spilled something and the project had come to a halt.

Marty and I went into town for a coffee and when we returned the same crowd was still standing around. We walked down the ramp to get a better look and to check the surf. We talked to a nervous truck driver who was standing in front of the rocks that were already dumped. He was a hard-ass character that looked like a member of the Hell’s Angels, long thinning hair, large graying beard, cut-off sleeves and tattooed filled arms.

“What happened?”

“Backing down the ramp my truck hung up on the hump at the top. It broke the line that runs from one tank to the other and diesel fuel flowed out. I pulled the truck up to the street and now I’m stranded until they repair the fuel line. And then I won’t know if I have enough fuel left to get out of here.” His truck had two large round cylinder tanks located under the doors of the cab with a line that runs between them. It was this line that broke.

“Hey we overheard that the contractor didn’t have a permit.”

“I don’t know about that. They called me to haul some rocks so here I am.”

The backhoe driver and a companion from the work crew stood nearby. Marty and I overheard a piece of their conversation.

“Can you imagine that? You would think that the general contractor would had taken care of the permit.”

The surf was ok, mellow small waves at the Patch, glassy conditions and only three of us out there. But the real story of today was the mess at the ramp. A truck had spilled a tank full of diesel fuel that ran down the ramp and some general contractor had just dump tons on rocks on the beach without a permit. It was just another interesting morning in beautiful Marin.

December 9, 2010 Thursday

Bolinas	Groin
9:40 am to 10:50 am	Consistent 4' to 5', sets overhead
Low upcoming tide	Slight onshore breeze
High patchy clouds and high fog	Good session

Selectivity was the theme for today. Selectivity as in –

“How was it?”

“I got some great waves but I was highly selective.”

The waves were big, powerful, rough and raw. A big swell arrived yesterday, peaked this morning and would be gone by tomorrow. Per the San Francisco buoy the swell was 11 ft at 14 seconds, out of the NW. Stormsurf called it “raw,” meaning bumpy and not clean, and they were right. The ocean was rough, and there were peaks every few feet with steep wind swells on top of the NW ground swells. The weather system that bought in the swells also bought the rain.

“Are you going to the beach this morning? You know that it is raining.” Kate pointed out the raindrops on the skylight in our bedroom at 6:30 am.

“The weather forecast predicted no rain for today, and besides the weather can be entirely different on the other side of the mountain.”

“You’re an optimist.” Yes I am and fortunately I was correct. The rain cleared up as soon as I drove over the ridge at Pantoll and descended down the mountain to Stinson Beach.

Marty was suited up as I pulled into the parking area on Brighton Ave. With camera in hand I accompanied him down to the beach. Marty had decided to go out at the Patch. Twenty surfers were spread across the Channel and the Groin. The waves were big and walled. Six surfers were out at the Patch. The waves broke all over the place, the surface was rough, and the sets were infrequent with no consistent peak. But the inside rights did look good. Marty continued onto the Patch and I went up to the overlook for a better view of the Groin. The waves were cleaner there, definitely peeling left with the north edge of the peak looking like the best spot. Half the crowd was there while all the aggressive short boarders were at the apex of the Channel peak. They screamed down these overhead bombs that always closed out in front of them. The Groin was the call today.

Walking back to the car I met Jeff from Mill Valley who was changing out of his wetsuit. He had gone out at the Patch and caught several good waves. After awhile it became “funky” so he moved inside and over to the peak just north of the ramp. Waves have not broken there in months. To his surprise Jeff got some good fast curls.

I stood in waist high water at the Groin waiting for a set to pass before paddling out. The waves were intimidating. But once through the shore break I could paddle around the peak to the line-up. I did not recognize anyone in the water, which was more proof that this was a big swell. Ocean Beach, Salmon Creek and Dillon Beach must be closed out and thus everyone has come here.

The incoming swells had a ton of water in them. I paddled for one and barely missed it, but I was able to look over the edge and down the line, it was steep. I caught the next one. I had moved closer to the nose when paddling to get more weight forward to push into the wave. It worked. I hung at the top of the wave for a second and then dropped down a head-high face. The wave was fast and had considerable force behind it. I screamed down the line, the wave folded over in front of me, I plowed into the white water and then straightened out. On my second wave, I again dropped down a steep face, turned at the bottom, froze to cruise along the bottom of a fast breaking wave, stalled an instant and dropped into a four-foot shore break. I stepped to the nose and pushed it under water as the wave collapsed on the sand. What a trilling ride. I paddled back out and managed to connect on three more.

With these powerful waves and the tons of white water they produced, paddling out had it challenges. The strategy for getting back outside was to paddle north and out to go around the peak. Easier said than done. After one ride I was near the Groin pole as a big set of waves was coming in. I quickly started paddling north but a sizeable shore break wall was feathering in front of me. It was breaking at the top as I was beginning to paddle up the face. I attempted one of my half-ass longboard duck dives. I moved my body to the front of the board, put my head down over the nose, pushed it under the white water sliding down from the top of the wave and hung on. The wave picked me up and threw me over. I felt and heard a “creak” in my neck as the wave whipped my head out of its tucked position to a straight up vertical position. It lifted up my board, tumbled me completely over and pushed towards the shore. Later on I was paddling out when another big set came through. A close to shore four-foot wall broke in front of me. This time I did a turtle roll. I rolled over, hung on tightly to the nose of the board and waited for the impact of the wave. It picked up the board and flipped it over pulling me out of the water as I hung on. I felt something pull in my left shoulder. Later while driving home, I was nursing a stiff neck and a sore shoulder.

Near the end of my session I went through a twenty-minute lull, not due to the waves, they were still coming through, but due to the crowd and the size of the waves. Several large sets came through that did not look makeable. I couldn’t believe the amount of water in these walls. Nobody else went for them either. Everyone, including me, paddled around for position thinking about going for one but in the end made the rational decision to let them go. Finally a smaller well-formed wall came through. I stroked into it and dropped down an overhead face. It was fast. I climbed to mid-swell and hung on. A short boarder took off ten yards in front of me. With the speed of this wave I easily caught up to him. He was about to cutback, I whistled at him to let him know I was there and he didn’t do it. We both sped down this steep curl until the wave started to come over with force. The short boarder kicked out and I straightened out. The wave was still head-high when I turned. In that instance I decided to go in. With the force of this wave I rode the soup all the way to shore.

As I told everyone after my session, I got some great rides, but I was selective.