By the sea, by the sea

  "By the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea You and I, you and I, oh how happy we'll be"  Growing up in a small beach city, I lived those lyrics (written in 1914) everyday. The ocean was an elementary part of life and I couldn't imagine a life without it nearby. As a child, I would walk along the shoreline, watching the waves advance upon the sand and then slowly retreat. Barefooted, I would stand in the shallow water and feel the scurrying sand crabs under my toes. I would wander over the pilings that held up the pier and investigate the life that was attached to them. Barnacles and mussels that were patiently waiting for the next high tide so that they might live for another day. 

Sometimes I wonder if wasn't all a dream. Looking back on those days, it seemed like the perfect life. I could wander all alone with no one to disturb my thoughts. I would move closer to water to see it cascade onto the dry sand, then the water would return to the ocean while I watched the sand changing color as the water drained away. Sometimes another wave would arrive before the last one had returned and there was a small disturbance before they agreed on the direction they were going. 

Sometimes, I would watch as someone that was older than me, unwrapped a bundle of white cloth; it was a bedsheet and they would get it wet and then run down the beach holding it high over their head, then I would see that it was actually two sheets sewn together on three sides. And as they ran, the sheets would gather up the air until the whole thing looked like a giant pillow. Then a quick move would knot the open end closed. Now they could take it out into the surf and ride it like a surf mat. I would sometimes wonder if my mother would sew one for me? I never asked and it never happened. Sigh...

Once I was old enough to venture out into the surf where the waves were forming up, I watched as the body surfers would wait till a 'good' wave was coming and then as it curled up just before crashed onto the shallows, they would swim as hard as they could to 'catch' the wave, allowing them to be pushed along with wave all of the way to shore. 

It took awhile but I did learn how to to do this and enjoyed every ride. I wasn't ready for a surfboard and never would be. I knew a lot of surfers at school and I was just one grade behind Dewey Weber at Center Street Elementary. I remember Dewey winning an award for his prowess with a Duncan Yo-Yo. Dewey want on to become a great surfer and surfboard maker. Back in the 40's and 50's, surfboards were made from Balsa wood. In the mid 50's boards were beginning to be constructed with polystyrene foam with a fiberglass coating as the finished surface.

Well, that was fun being back some old memories...