Ron Hull was right, surprisingly, writing stories are a bit more satisfying than writing poetry...Hate though to admit he was right...;-)
Living at the shore your whole life is just like living anywhere else, ups, downs & all rounds. A great deal of playing on the beach of course, & swimming in the ocean and surfing and body surfing and, nowadays, boogie boarding. One learns where to go to get the best wave, how far out and how far in to ride that wave. Getting totally soaked then running in the hot sand to get totally covered then back in the ocean to start the process all over again.
Learning what a “shoobie” is and making new friends with many of them that frequently come each year, thinking just because they do come each year, means they are not shoobs. But as long as you are not there in the winter months, you are a shoob, not a year ‘rounder or native. Mostly though shoobies are those that come for a day, bringing what they need for their beach excursion. Kid’s toys, rafts, umbrellas, sun tan lotion, as well as food in a cooler with ice and soda or beer for the adults. No matter what they bring, it means they will NOT spend a dime on anything on the island. They come for the day, pay for a beach pass or a parking space and think themselves ill-used for that paltry amount. Those are the true shoobies though there are many slim but definitive lines in the sand and off that will describe them further and I will not go into all of them here. Suffice to say, you got the gist of what they are like.
Body surfing, like surfing on a board, is an art. When one lives at the shore, the first thing they learn is to body surf waves that REALLY are too big for them at their young age’. When I was quite young mom would watch off our porch to see me out swimming and with friends. She wouldn’t worry or so she said she didn’t when we were way out above our heads and using our legs to power us into a wave. The lifeguards knew us, and knew our capabilities and for the most part left us alone as well. The problem was when we were out there catching the big rollers, the other kids, some summer kids, some shoobies would want to do the same and they would get caught in rip tides and such. Then the lifeguards would have to intervene and whistle everybody in, so those of us living there would wait till the guards went off duty and went back out to catch more big waves. Of course at that time we were kids and were going to live forever. As in surfing, as far as I was concerned, one good ride, one curl shot, one bounce off the bottom where ya come up choking and spitting salt water and that was the best feeling for a whole day. Now though I would throw my back out big time, crawl ashore & cry for an hour and call myself an idiot. But damn, if it wasn’t fun times out there in my ocean, a ride like any of them I would remember for the rest of my day, possibly the whole winter as it would likely be my last ride of the season…
Those of us who lived there did come from the sea. We were part & parcel of Mom Oceans waves & calms, rip tides & stepping on crabs. We all were in the ocean from the first day of spring till the last day of fall & some still do, though not me, though I do miss it one and all…
Writing stories is fun and good to do sometimes. Unfortunately not many on the den read them. It must have been exciting to live at the SHORE!. I can see the waves and surf boarders.. Every year in the summer in the 50's , my parents would go to Old Orchard Beach in Maine for the day.
I loved swimming in the ocean and playing in the sand. When I got older and married , we moved from Vt to Miami where I really was able to enjoy the sun and sea!...M
There's nothing like the shore at any season. A native Rhode Islander with more than my fair share of partaking in what our beaches have to offer, even quahogging--I rode the wave of your story, totally immersed in the ocean.
You have lived forever, haven't you, Ed? Seems like it, anyway. I was surprised to see you write a story. I enjoyed it. After reading your story, I suddenly miss living by the ocean.
Although I've always wanted to surf on a surf board, I never did. However, I did surf with my kayak on/under 10 to 12-foot waves on Melbourne Beach in Florida after a storm back in 1999. Learning how to time my ride was excruciating. The first 15 or 20 attempts were like hmmm--I can't think of anything quite as rough and tumble. But when I finally got in the curl while pointing in the right direction, WOW--what a ride!!!
Yes, thank you, Ed, for sharing this fun packed euphoric and youthful romp culled from memory of soul still hungering for life's next wave. Like a dog on the porch dreaming of the golden days, in our hearts and minds you have kindled here a longing of youth where we still dream of catching that rabbit, or catching that wave, or catching that pass. The exchange of time and age for youth has passed us by, but in our hearts we are always welcome back like Shoobies, for each day is summer again!
Thanks for the accolade. And thanks for writing about shoreline life that I know little of except that I am now known as a “shoobie" for my infrequent trips to the shore, bringing everything I would need. I believe the best shorelines are those without concessions. However, locals and those unprepared probably find these beachside businesses useful. The shoreline is a national treasure that should be accessible (and is, as far as I know) to everyone and not just those who are rich enough to buy Malibu beachfront or live there.
I only body surfed once. It was after I was paralyzed at about 24 with a friend who was an avid body surfer (we had small inflatable floats) and supplied me with what I needed. We went to a famous surfing spot near the point at Santa Cruz. I believe it was July. The sun was bright, but the air temperature was only about 75°. The water temperature was about 55° and shocking. Needless to say, I couldn't stay out very long and took a long time warming up because the beach sand was not very warm. While I was out, I couldn't seem to catch a wave after many tries all afternoon. Finally, I caught a wave and had a good ride in until the wave overtook me, I landed in the sand, and the wave rolled over me. This seawater was terrible. I can only describe it as being in a sewer pipe. That was my only experience with surfing and it was memorable.
We got drunk and my friend, by the abandoned boardwalk and roller coaster, made a stupid move by sliding down a wooden rail to the beach and collected a large splinter in his leg just below his groin. We couldn't locate an emergency room that was open in Santa Cruz and opted instead for a nurse friend who tried to cut it out with my friend drinking more vodka, but he couldn't take the pain and had to wait until the next day, skipping work to get it removed by a doctor. The end of a perfect day at the beach.
You did not mention "Man of War". Were we only blessed with them on the Texas coast? Good story. Though I do think that all shorelines should be free to go onto, be it beach, lake, or river. Some of us grew up too poor to have been able to pay for access.
Write another story.
L
Don't usually comment on stories but this one rang a bell with me as it was something I had done also on rare occasions at the beach. A memory that does not fade with time.
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