August 4, 2012 Saturday

Torrance Beach	South end
9:00 am to 10:30 am	2’ to 3’, sets to 3.5’
Mid upcoming tide	Slight onshore breeze
Patchy sun	Fun session

“You know that I caught my first wave right here.”

My friend Chris was on a stand-up board at the south end of Torrance Beach and Chuck and I were sitting on our boards waiting for one of the infrequent set waves. He was right. At this exact spot was where all three of us learned to surf in the summers of 1958 and 59 – 53 years ago.

Last night Kate and I attended a high school reunion beach party for the class of ’63 (my class) held at the Portuguese Bend Club on the Palos Verdes Peninsula. Chuck and I made plans to surf the next morning at Rat Beach where Torrance ends and Palos Verdes begins – also where the sand ends and the rocks begin. Chris overheard us and insisted that since there was a south swell we should meet at his house and surf at our old spot where we surfed everyday as kids. We had grown up together from first grade through high school, and coming together at the reunion was a treat. For years going to the beach was the highlight of summer for us. Through the years we had progressed from the Palos Verdes Swim Club pool, to surf mats, to body surfing, to skim boards, to as freshmen in high school surfboards. With its large parking lot, Torrance Beach was the closest sand beach and thus it became our local spot. We learned here, and Chris quickly became the expert. I was amazed at how fast he picked up surfing; he was a natural.

Both of my friends have had successful careers. Chuck spend twenty plus years as a rep for the major stereo equipment manufactures, and then reinvented himself and became an elementary school teacher, at our old school. After several years teaching, he has retired and now surfs and pursues volunteer activities. After college Chris started out as a L.A. County lifeguard and then jumped into business and real estate. Success in business has allowed him to purchase a beautiful home on the bluff above Torrance Beach, above the very spot where we learned to surf.

When I pulled up to Chris’s house this morning, Chris and Chuck were already in the water. Walking through the garage I noticed Chris’s line-up of twenty surfboards and a shelf full of trophies Chris and his son had won over the years. A concrete path led around the house and switched back and forth down the hill to a patio just above the beach complete with patio furniture and a heated shower. The gate through the fence opened onto the sand of the county beach. After a short walk across the sand, I paddled out to greet my friends.

Like the other day, the waves were not much to write about -- small, glassy peaks, with shape and some speed but were infrequent. We spent most of the morning reminiscing about the old days. Chris reminded me that ten of us use to keep our boards at our friend David’s house in the Malaga Cove area (which is just a block from the classic surf spot, Haggerty’s). I would ride my bike five miles to David’s house, David and I would carry our boards a mile to Torrance Beach, surf all morning, walk back, have a tuna sandwich for lunch, and then I would ride five miles back uphill to my house and nap the rest of the day. My mother thought I was a bum, but that was the summer that I lost all my baby fat.

Chris remembered his favorite surfboard of those days. Hobie had a sale one weekend, the first surfboard sale ever. Chris, David, and a couple others talked their parents into driving to Dana Point, the home of Hobie’s shop, to purchased brand new foam boards. They kept their new boards in David’s backyard, and guess what? Someone stole the new Hobie boards. They didn’t bother taking my piece of crap balsa board. Chris was crushed; he loved that board.

We also talked about how the water has improved from those old days. Then, the county cut the kelp every summer, the old tankers emptied their bilges offshore causing tons of tar to float onto the beach and the water was always murky. Today the kelp has returned and so have the dolphins, the water was clear and there was no tar on the beach.

We had a great morning talking about the old days, meeting several of Chris’s friends that were in the water and catching a few nice knee-high curls. The hot water shower on Chris’s patio really hit the spot. I extended the invite to them to join us in Bolinas, but I was sure that being creatures of comfort, the cold water would keep them away.