My story post 40

My first attempt at surfing in a contest was the fall of 1966. I’m not real sure what organization this particular surf meet was with, possibly the USSA. It was held at a spot called D and W, a jetty spot along the beach that runs in front of LAX.

I didn’t know anyone that surfed in contests then. For some reason I thought maybe it would be a good idea for me to do contests because I could get close to guys in the industry. So I signed up for the event and when the day came I got in my VW bus and drove to D & W by myself, found a place to park and went to find out when my heat was.

It was a cold, dark overcast day and there was a swell running with over head sets. I waited for my time slot to surf, again by myself… I had no friends there or knew anyone at all. When the time came I got my jersey, walked to the waters edge with my board and paddled out with the rest of the guys in the heat.

Once in the line up… at least where I thought the line up was, I’d never surfed the place before, I caught my first wave. That wave was pretty much a non event, a short ride on an inside wave. I didn’t realize how much of an inside wave it was until I pulled out and saw the set waves charging toward the beach… with me inside. I bounced over the first 2 walls of white water and scratched like a mad man hoping to get past the next wave now marching toward me with a clean feathering 8 foot or better face. I reached the wave right in the impact zone, turned turtle and held on with all I had. It didn’t matter, that wave wanted my board and got it in one split second.

I surfaced after the pounding gulping a breath of air at the same time thinking maybe my board would be close, maybe it would’ve bounced out of the turmoil and be in site, a short distance off. No such luck. I didn’t see my board anywhere, which meant it most likely was on the beach. I started swimming, ducking deep a couple of times to escape some white water. When three or for minutes later reaching the beach, I don’t see my board… anywhere.

What the heck? I look up and down the beach and don’t see my board. Don’t tell me it’s still in the water, or what? Thinking It got sucked into a rip and washed out past the line up? Then I noticed it… up on the jetty about half way out. How it got there I have no idea. I walked 50 yards just to reach the jetty and then worked my way over those giant rocks until I got close enough to reach for my board. Waited for a lull and grabbed the darn thing jumping up a couple rocks to dodge the surf. Of course by that time my heat was long over as well maybe the 2 heats after mine. I worked my way off the jetty.

With board in hand and my tail between my legs I walked to the check in table and turned in my jersey. Then kept walking to my van, toweled off, put on some warm clothes, put my board in the van, got myself in the driver’s seat and went home.

Honestly, I had no big ideas or really knew what to expect. But if I started entering contests I’d maybe start networking with others in the sport and that would be a good thing.

When I got home my mom greeted me and asked “how’d it go Den?” I shook my head and said ‘ not so good ‘.

D.R.

Early eighties winners gathering after a surf meet. My son in front of me holding my fifth place yellow ribbon. Notice the lack of surf in the back ground?