A Bad Start To A Great Career

A Bad Start To A Great Career

Mike Dwinell - March 1988

By Craig Lockwood

Remember when we used to sit beaches during our lifeguard training. That was 20 years ago in the ‘60s for all you “come lately” new guards. And that’s when I started—back in 1968.

That day’s as clear as though it happened yesterday. It was the first day of training, sunny and warm with a 2-4 foot swell rolling cleanly in out of the west. The morning’s physical and classroom events were over. We were scheduled to spend the next five hours sitting a tower on a beach. I was excited and little apprehensive about what that meant. Looking around, I saw Main Beach filling up with Easter Weekers.

“Dwinell!” I spun around. The stocky blond man with a clipboard was Captain R.O. Riehl. He was kindly but efficient, reminding me of a high school coach—which he was. “You’re in my North Section. You’ll be guarding with Chris Brown up north at Crescent Bay. Know where that is?” “Yessir!” I snapped. In my mind I was reviewing the confusing topography of Laguna’s coves. Lieutenants dePaulis, Westgaard and Lockwood had driven the lifeguard truck to each beach that morning and given us a brief orientation. But there had been a lot of coves and I wasn’t quite sure which was Crescent. “I’ll be checking on you throughout the day,” Captain Riehl said. “You have any questions?” “Nossir! No questions, sir!” “Fine. Well, go pick up your gear from de Paulis and Lockwood and head ‘em out.”

Our training officers were thundering around with clipboards, growling out our names and handing us tubes, wooden first aid boxes, umbrellas, chairs and flags. I practically staggered under the load. DePaulis dumped a black telephone on top of my pile and I started to turn around. “Those phone lines hooked up to Crescent yet?” Chief LaVern Dugger asked dePaulis. De Paulis looked at Lockwood who shook his head. “They might get them fixed this afternoon,” he said. “Better take it.”

I staggered down the hill to my assigned tower. South Crescent. I set up the tower, climbed up, put out my flag and looked around—suddenly very aware that I was a greenhorn. What had de Paulis and Lockwood told us this morning? They’d talked about rips, backwash, berms, dispersion patterns, longshore currents. All of it was Greek to me. If only someone were here now to point these things out. I tried the phone. Dead. Then I noticed Chris jumping down and running toward North Point. My eyes followed Brown’s movements. Suddenly he disappeared and the reality sunk in—I was totally alone on this huge beach! The responsibility swept over me like a wave. But my reverie didn’t last for long.

“Lifeguard! Lifeguard come quick!” someone yelled. “Some girl’s drownded down the beach! Some guys just dragged her in!” The words hit—I’d missed my first rescue! I jumped—pumping adrenaline—landing in the soft deep sand. Running was like in a nightmare. The sand sucked at my feet, slowing me down. Panicked, I sprinted to where the woman lay on the wet sand—a non-breather. I was lost as to what to do next. What was it that I’d been taught in training that morning? Oh. yeah—open the airway! I dropped my fins, and with some help from her boyfriend moved her to dry sand. But the boyfriend—now in shock—clutched her limp body to his chest. He wouldn’t put her down. He kept rocking her like a baby in his arms—ignoring my efforts to start her breathing.

By this time a large crowd had gathered and bystanders were shouting instructions. One jerk, his breath sour with beer, tried to push me roughly aside. “Eh!” boomed a loud voice. I looked up to see an enormous Hawaiian pulling the intruder away. “Dis da kine lifeguard. You let him do his job, bra. Stayout da peecture!” There was a gasp from my victim—she was breathing! “She’s alive!” her boyfriend cried, “Thank God she’s alive!” About that time my heart resumed beating again. I was also alive. My ego, however, and any confidence I may have had in my abilities as a lifeguard—had washed dead away with the surf. The crowd dispersed, I picked up my tube and began searching for my fins. To no avail. During the confusion they’d been stolen.

Brown returned from around the point—completely unaware of my close call. As the phones were still unconnected and 5501 delayed by an emergency at Victoria, (there was only one 55 unit in those days) the incident was never reported.

Well, I completed my training and was placed on the hiring list. That summer I worked relief, filling in and generally being available. I didn’t make any rescues that year but I was rehired next season and for six successive seasons before I was hired as a full-time lifeguard in 1974.

Now I’m a Captain.

Over Here Ghere

Over Here Ghere

By Dale Ghere

2005

It was about 10:30 in the evening, towards the end of October, probably about 1970 or 71, when I got a call from the police department dispatcher. Apparently there was a report that someone was in the water off of Oak Street yelling for help and since I was on call I would need to respond.

I put on my Speedos, grabbed my fins and tube, and jumped in the car and head down the hill to Oak St. I figured I could run all of the stop signs because any policeman on duty would be headed there also. It didn’t take long to travel the three quarters of a mile. By the time I got there several people had already informed the police officer they had heard someone yelling for help well beyond the surf line. They said the voice had become rather faint because he seemed to be out so far.

None of their stories made much sense to me. It was pitch dark, there was not any surf to speak of and therefore there was no rip. Who besides a diver would be out in the water at that time of night? And if there was someone out there how was I suppose to find him in the dark? There was certainly no indication to either the officer or myself that anyone was still in the water. There had not been another yell for help since either one of us had arrived. The only troubling part was that everyone agreed they had clearly heard someone yell for help, not once, but several times. I hadn’t taken a board or a light. I had not even taken time to get a wetsuit. It didn’t look like I had very many options open to make people think that I knew what I was doing. I was going to have to get in the water and make it look like I was there to find and save the yelling victim. My heart wasn’t really into getting in the water. I didn’t expect to be able to swim out in the dark, find the victim and return to the beach with the admiration of all who were there. As I slipped off my pants and shirt I asked everyone to shout to the person to see if they could get a response. They did as I requested, but no sounds returned except those of the breaking waves.

I asked a guy to point in the direction that he thought the last sound came from. As he pointed I entered the water and dove under the first wave. I didn’t figure this would take too long. I would just swim out past the surf line, yell a few times and then return to beach. I figured I would probably have more luck finding a diver who had gotten scared and started yelling in the dark for his buddy. I wouldn’t expect to find them still in the water, but back on the beach, probably at Mountain Rd. or perhaps Thalia St. But for now I needed to do something and this was the best thing I could think of. So out I went. I yelled loud enough for the people on the beach to hear, “Is there anyone out here?” Then I swam another 25 or 30 yards and repeated the yell. Each time, as expected, there was no returning voice seeking help. It was chilly, but not so cold that I was in any great hurry to get out of the water. I don’t remember how many times I called out, but I will never forget what happened after my last call.

I had finally swum about as far as I wanted to go when I made the last call. This time I yelled towards the beach. I wanted to make sure everyone was well aware that I was trying to find the person and that I was not going to give up easily. I yelled, “If there is anyone out here you had better yell now or I am going to leave you here. I am swimming back to the beach.” That is when I heard a quiet voice come across the water from the dark abyss of the ocean, “Over here Ghere.” The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up, every nerve in my body was prepared to send a message somewhere and I was about ready to dance on the water all the way back to the beach. What was happening? Who was in the water? And most importantly how did they know it was Ghere.

It didn’t take too long to get all of the answers and for my heart rate and blood pressure to return to normal. I swam in the direction of the voice and found one of my old beach gremlins from Saint Ann’s having a good time swimming around. He was high on something. We talked for a while and then I asked him to swim to the beach with me so everyone could go home and know that all was well for the evening. When we started out of the surf I realized he was naked so I asked the officer to get my towel and give it to him. He couldn’t remember where he had left his cloths so I walked down the beach searching for the missing cloths. I found nothing. Sadly, by the time I got back to where everyone was the police officer had decided that he was going to take him to the police station for being on drugs.

Ten years earlier Laguna was the center of the drug culture for southern California, to some degree it was probably the Mecca for all druggies of that era. The preaching of Timothy O’Leary and the drugs took a heavy toll on the youth of Laguna during those years.

It was several years later before the next time I saw the errant gremlin. Once again our encounter was on the beach, he was visiting Laguna from a halfway house in Costa Mesa. He said that life had been difficult the past few years. Most of the kids made it through those turbulent years and developed good lives, some didn’t.

Junior Lifeguard Program in the 1960s

Junior Lifeguard Program

Laguna Beach Lifeguard Department

During the 1960’s

By Dale Ghere

In 1961 LaVern Duggar became the Chief of the Lifeguard Department for Laguna and with his leadership many changes were made that have continued. It wasn’t until the late 50’s that Laguna offered a strong competitive exam to become a lifeguard. The qualifying swim was a race from Main Beach to Mountain Road. In the early days qualifying to be a lifeguard was based on a person’s reputation. Was he known as a good diver? Could he surf? Was he brave? Would he body surf big waves? Could he play beach volleyball? Was he known as a good athlete at Laguna Beach High School? Was he a local and did the chief know his parents? Could he row a dory? Could he swim out and pull someone to safety? If enough of these were yeses then the person became a guard. Short swims were enough to prove that the young man was a skilled swimmer. In the early days of the lifeguard department swimming for speed or proving that you could swim long distances were not considered important. Apparently the philosophy was to keep a good eye on the water and react early enough to make a rescue so speed was not needed. There was no consideration for a long distance swim because rescues in Laguna were generally inside or near the surf line. It worked, no one ever drowned on a guarded beach.

That system worked for a variety of reasons. Laguna didn’t guard very many beaches, the crowds were relatively small and the department only needed 8 to 10 local boys over 18 years old to fill its needs. During the 40’s Laguna hired boys as young as 16 and 17 because the older boys were all off to war. By the late 50’s Laguna was covering more beaches, the crowds were growing every year. The lifeguard department had to search out of town for more and more people who could become lifeguards. Many of the boys came from inland cities and knew little about the beach, but they were good swimmers and water polo players. Duggar had the foresight to see what was going to happen. Laguna would need more guards with each passing year and there would not be enough local boys to fill the growing needs of the city. Duggar was correct in his anticipations. Through the 60’s and into the 70’s the lifeguard department grew from 20 to over 50. Duggar felt that someone in Laguna needed to start training local boys to meet future demands.

In 1964 Duggar decided that I was the person he would select to fulfill his goal. I accepted his offer with enthusiasm and started making plans for the next summer. I loved to teach kids about the beach and now I was going to be paid to do it. I would teach from 10 to noon on Tuesdays and Thursdays for six weeks during the summer. The skill level of the kids would vary from weak to excellent. Their ages would range from 12 to 15. I would start early in July and continue for six weeks. There would be no charge to the boys. Duggar’s challenges for me were to produce kids who were skilled watermen, encourage them to spend more time in the water and encourage them to become lifeguards. My first thought was, “This is going to be sweet.”

There had been youth training programs clear back into the 30’s, but the purpose of the programs was different. The original purpose was two fold: first, to help a person to become more self reliant and knowledgeable about the beach and second was to train a young boy how to help a lifeguard. My plans would retain those goals. These goals had been important to the guard department in the early days because there was either no phone available for the guard or at times it did not worked. Each lifeguard was alone in his own cove. For many years the lifeguard department did not have its own emergency vehicle. When back up was needed the local ambulance driver picked up guards at the Main Beach and transported them to places where they were needed. This was time consuming and did not always provide the proper support. It was good to have the help of a local kid who was on the beach everyday.

When I started teaching we worked on swimming skills, surf entries and body surfing. Every kid used surf mats, surfboards and paddleboards. Each one would follow me through the blowhole at Wood’s Cove, jump into the Giggle Crack at Diver’s Cove and when the surf was small would climb on the rocks at Bird Rock. Pain avoidance was a strong motivator that caused every kid to listen with intensity not common to the classroom. It didn’t take long for each of them to get it figured out. In school you left a little lead in the wrong box when you didn’t understand the lesson. At the beach you were likely to leave a little skin on the rocks if you didn’t understand the lesson. Missing the timing on a wave gives a different personal result from being told that you missed a question on the last math test. Going over the falls, bouncing off of the bottom or being washed across the rocks gives one a good reason to rethink what they were supposed to do. As the waves washed the blood off of someone’s shoulder or forehead it gave the others time to concentrate on what they should be doing.

We spent hours going over first aid techniques, practicing resuscitation, CPR and making beach rescues. We spent a lot of time discussing how tides affect wave structure and how the contour of the bottom influences the shape of the wave and controls currents. Everyone learned how to spot a rip and how to use it to their advantage. Every kid was connected with at least one guard. The whole group would walk/run/swim to every beach and listen to the guard explain the peculiar characteristics about his beach that required special attention. By the end of summer every kid knew something about every beach in Laguna, even the beaches that were not guarded.

Time was spent encouraging the older guards to take the junior guards surfing or diving or rowing or paddling after work. I wanted each kid exposed to as much water time as possible. I encouraged the guards to give the junior guards the opportunity to help them as much as possible when they were on the beach. I asked the guards to teach the kids how to look for possible rescues and how to move people out of dangerous situations before it turned into something more serious. The idea was stressed that if they wanted to be a guard they needed to get on a swim team and to play water polo in high school. I kept discussing the point that I was trying to give them the advantage over out of town kids when it would come to time to take the test to be a lifeguard. They learned that the fastest swimmer didn’t always win. We had lots of time to compete with each other to learn this lesson. Knowing how to catch a wave, use a rip, dolphin through the surf line, deal with rocks, swim a straight line, where to run on the beach and when taking the longer route would all work to their advantage. When the surf got big we would hold a body surfing and mat surfing contest. George Moore was always more than willing to provide all the rafts I needed. Several summers I took a group of the best kids to Santa Barbara to enter the junior lifeguard competition. There they usually won such events as paddling, swim relays, running and beach flags. Each kid grew in strength and ability during the summer and that was obvious to everyone.

The summer ended with two main events: a swim and a party. Throughout the six weeks the kids did a lot of swimming. Short swims just through the surf line and back to the beach. Longer swims around points or down the coast from beach to beach. The last swim was from Victoria Beach to Crescent Bay. I selected only the best swimmers for this swim. The younger boys were assigned to paddle with a swimmer. The paddlers were to keep the swimmer on course and to provide safety for the swimmer. For all of the boys this was their first long distance ocean experience. For most of the swimmers it took about an hour to an hour and a half to complete the swim. Lifeguards, friends and parents were all there to greet the swimmers as they emerged from the ordeal. Completing the swim was an experience to be remembered for a lifetime.

The party was always at Heisler Park, just above Picnic Beach. It was a great time for everyone. All of the supervisors and their families came, every guard and of course all of the junior guards attended. Lots of food was enough of an incentive to get every guard to make the effort to attend. The markets in town provided all of the free food I needed to put on the feed. Hotdogs, chips, potato salad, beans, watermelon and drinks made up the normal menu. Everyone could eat until they were stuffed and I would still have food left over for the guards to take home. The storeowners were always gracious to provide more than I asked for.

The real highlight of the party was the awards. Everyone competed in their own age group so it provided lots of opportunities for me give out prizes: best swimmers, body surfing champions, mat surfing contest winners, best runners, most improved, most outstanding and of course the winners of the Vic to C-Bay swim. All of these kids got special awards, but due to the generosity of the merchants in town I was able to give every kid something. Cameras from Bill Thomas, fishing equipment and fins from Leonard Brockman’s Sports World, pole spears and lots of diving equipment from Santmyer’s dive shop, hats from The Toy Store on Main Beach, bathing suits and beach stuff from all over town were made available for me to give away. It was a fun time.

While I was developing the junior guard program Duggar asked John Cunningham, Tim Davis, Paul Golfos and Jim Herdman to develop programs for the younger kids, ages 8 to 11. Their programs strengthened my program. We were getting kids to join at the age of eight and they would come every year until they were fifteen. By the time a kid was fifteen he had been trained for seven years. The fifteen year olds that I was training had more beach experience than did any of the new out-of-town guards. They knew that and so did I. The Junior Guard program was successful in many ways, but one thing that I could not overcome was the “age thing” for boys. At sixteen they just did not want to be a junior guard. They were old enough to drive and they thought that they should be able to guard or they would get a job somewhere else. I could see that the whole purpose of everything that I was trying to do was going to fail; they were ready and wanted to guard, but the city would not hire them until they were eighteen. The argument was that to place a sixteen year old on a beach by himself would not be wise. How to solve this problem became the major question that I struggled with. After lots of thought I went to Duggar and asked him if I could start what I would call the “Rookie” program. Duggar agreed, in 1968 I started hiring boys to lifeguard only at Main Beach who were16 and 17. With this plan a young guard would never be without a supervisor nearby. The training became intensified. By the time a boy turned 18 the lifeguard department could hire a waterman who had ten years of beach experience. The problem was solved.

For the girls who read this story; girls were not included into the Junior Guard Program because there were no local swimming programs that produce swimmers good enough to keep up with the boys. All of that has changed and today there are lots of very fine female athletes who have become lifeguards, especially girls from Laguna Beach High School. Well-done ladies!!!!

A Girl Lifeguard

Diana Slowsky - A Girl Lifeguard? Oh My!

2004

Our family landed in Laguna Beach when I was 8 years old. At that same age my brethren (four of us) were introduced to the Ocean and the wonders she holds, thus starting a romance that would last a lifetime. Beach chairs, duck fins, Frisbees, volleyball, and of course a fierce ownership of our “Lifeguard”. You must understand that each beach, mine being Mountain Road, had its own designated lifeguard and around each lifeguard’s station only the locals were allowed. God forbid that a tourist would dare place his chair near “our” Lifeguard. When I grew up, Art Smart was our guard and he put up with an awful lot as the adoptive watcher over so many young seals.

We grew up with such icons as Dale Ghere, Jack Lincke, Punky Parlette, John (Big John) Parlette, and Dean Westgaard to name just a few. My brother (John Slowsky) and many of our friends (Charlie Ware, Billie Brown, Diggar Ware, Jeff Quam and on, and on…) went through the Junior Guard Program run by Dale Ghere and went on to become full-time guards themselves. It was this same gang that supported my crazy idea of becoming a lifeguard – why not? Everyone I ran with was one; being a girl should not make such a big deal, right? Well, there was a small hiccup to my plan; I was a diver at Laguna Beach High School, not a swimmer! So now started the weeks of learning how to swim for speed (Jack Lincke and my brother John instructing) and then hours of open ocean swimming with someone either paddling (John, et. al.) along side me or at the beach with time clocks; but always someone was there mentally giving me that extra push to achieve this goal.

After becoming a lifeguard, which is another complete story in itself, one of my extra duties included running the “Mermaid Program” for little girls under the age of 12. Now when you are a local and have grown up around the water like I have, you develop knowledge of your environment that you just take for granted as being “fun,” and these “fun” adventures would include: body-surfing on red flag days, jumping off the Arches, swimming out to all of the off-shore reefs and climbing on them regardless of waves or not, and of course, diving through the Woods Cove blow-hole!

Yes, that’s a great idea! I will take my little mermaids (“little” being the operative word here,) and teach them how to play in the blow-hole. After all, they are all local girls aren’t they? Eventually they would want to do it anyway, or so it was my thinking.

So during one class I made the announcement that within the next two weeks, surf conditions acceptable, we would all convene at Woods Cove point and I would hold a class at the infamous blow-hole. When the news reached the ears of our Chief, Bruce Baird, on what I had on the schedule for my mermaids, the color in his face went completely white… hmmmm, not exactly the reaction I had expected. “What? Teach them something that could cause bodily injury?” “Where are their release forms? What about a possible lawsuit directed at the City if something goes wrong?” Okay, so I never considered any of this – oops, I’m just a water woman teaching the arts to young water women. But hey! A promise is a promise and the date was set. I did eventually get the permission slips from all the girls albeit still with my Chief’s apprehension.

We had approximately 15 girls that day; (since it is my storyJ), I’d say that it seemed we had the same number of guards participating as well, the Chief’s contribution. I had guards instructed to watch the rise and fall of the incoming swells, guards positioned floating in the water and guards along on the rocks. I then took the lead by showing the girls what to do: first timing the incoming swell that filled the bowl, holding my breath and then diving into the darkness and being “flushed” out with the swell, and finally surfacing in the channel, thus showing the girls there’s nothing to it. With a grin and a gulp of air I dove back down for the return trip down back through the small opening and rose once again with the incoming swell back in the bowl. Then it was their turn; one by one they made the plunge as I went with them through the hole using the timing of the swells, avoiding any sets on that calm day.

The excitement of the accomplishment was definitely contagious. It grew and grew with each successful participant completing the round trip; cheers and screams erupted from everyone participating and watching. We had started attracting a crowd from tourists that saw the abundant color of red swimwear on the rocks and heard all the laughter and screaming. I remember seeing the tourists’ faces as they looked in amazement at these little girls, laughing and so excited to take their turn for the plunge. It went better than any of us could have hoped. As each little mermaid entered the water, she was taught how to watch and time the swells before making the plunge, how to swim with your eyes open so you could follow the swell out through the underwater hole, how to climb back up onto rocks leading with your feet without getting cut, and even how to use life saving techniques for rescuing someone who had fallen victim into the rocks. Yes! Each one took her turn with me and then did it by herself, jumping into the hole, swimming out through the opening and back in again with the next incoming swell. As each little face came up beaming, looking into my eyes as I waited for their return, I couldn’t have been more proud.

At the end of the day, each girl went home with a brand new experience and I think the male Lifeguards who assisted as a collective whole garnered an unforgettable memory as well. With clear direction and the confidence of passing on the knowledge, no one was hurt in the slightest,J not so much as scratch was had! A few years later one of those little mermaids did become a lifeguard, Ingrid Loos, I was doubly proud to have been a part of her development.

In all seriousness, the training, team work, individual names, experiences, laughter and tears have given me a very rich life which at times still encourages me to push the envelope, and I’m grateful for it. I would sincerely encourage all young ladies to strive to become Lifeguards; your world will become richer for it.

Diana Cook (Slowsky)

"I Did It"

Karen Ford – Jr. Guards

2004

I looked all through my albums and could not find one picture taken at the beach. All three of our kids love the ocean and they are passing that love and appreciation on to their children. When we first moved to Laguna we made sure our boy's Dean and Kurt) went into the Junior Guard Program (there were no programs for girls then) because we wanted them to be safe in their new environment. They learned not only how to be safe they learned how to survive in unexpected situations. They are both surfers and they sail. Both have had experiences that their Life Saving training from the Junior Guards has helped them through. That training also gave them self-confidence. Incredible!!! Because it was such a big part of our kids lives. I will never forget the time when our youngest son Dean finally got the courage to go through the blowhole at Woods Cove. My mom was watching the kids while Jerry and I took a vacation to Hawaii at that time. The first thing Dean said to us when we got off of the plane was "I did it!" He was so proud.

Guard Saves Girl

Newspaper Article about John Hill

“Rescue Technique Learned in Time”

“Guard Saves Girl”

June 24, 1960

“Laguna Beach lifeguard John Hill puts newly-learned rescue technique to work on

18-year-old Linda Wilson, who almost drowned in the rough surf at the beach at the foot of

St. Ann’s Drive. Miss Wilson was caught in an undertow.

“Just two hours after receiving instruction in mouth to mouth respiration, Lifeguard John Hill used that method of resuscitation to save the life of Linda Wilson, 18 of Covina, after he had pulled her from the surf at St. Ann’s beach late Monday afternoon. “I noticed the two girls when they went in the water,” said Lifeguard Hill, “and since the undertow was particularly strong, I kept an eye on them. They started to drift toward the undertow,” Hill continued, “and one of the girls called me to help her friend.

“Immediately I pulled the girl in and started to give her mouth to mouth respiration. After about twelve breaths her breathing was somewhat normal and forty-five minutes later she was recovered enough to come over and thank me.”

John Hill not only had his first spectacular rescue on Monday, but it was his first day of guard duty. Fortunately, he must have paid strict attention to the forty-five minutes of instructions given by Chief Lifeguard, Art Fisette, each morning.

The handsome, dark haired lifeguard, who is the son of Mr. And Mrs.George Hill of Cress Street has just graduated from Orange Coast College in liberal arts and business administration.”

Changed My Child's Life

HOW ONE SUMMER CAMP CHANGED MY CHILD'S LIFE

By Elizabeth Wickham

2004

A self-professed wimp that would rather read than play at recess, my ten-year-old son Robert's life was changed by one summer program. With asthma and flat feet, he was the slowest runner in his class, and awkward at any sport that involved a ball. Little did I know that signing him up for a summer camp called Junior Lifeguards in a nearby beach city would change him in more ways than I could have dreamed.

There's more to a day at the beach than boogie boarding and building sand castles. At least that's what Robert discovered along with other kids, ages 8 to15, in the program offered in Laguna Beach for 40 summers. After completing the four-week day camp, my son no longer got sand kicked in his face. Physically rigorous and demanding, at times the experience was even frightening.

Try swimming through the "blow hole," a hole in a rocky reef with an underwater tunnel to the ocean, or entering the "giggle crack," a large crevice in a rocky shore with waves tumbling in and out. After sit-ups and push-ups, kids spend their beach days mounting rocks from the ocean, paddling 10-foot boards in relay races, and running two to three miles down the sandy shoreline. That's what a day at the beach means to Junior Guards (JGs).

I would not have believed my son could do any of these things – or even want to. Yet, after struggling through the first two days with sore feet, aching lungs, tears, a bruised ego, and not believing he'd survive the day – he did. Not only did he survive, he thrived. Robert met the challenge and his physical endurance and self-esteem soared.

Chad Beeler, junior lifeguard supervisor and a lifeguard in Laguna Beach since 1991, leads four sessions, seeing as many as 430 kids each summer gain confidence and knowledge--in and out of the ocean.

"They learn skills, such as the proper way to go under waves and how to mount rocks safely from the ocean," Beeler said. "They get more knowledge in the water and how to play safely. By experiencing things like the giggle crack and swimming through the blowhole, they get gutsier, but also gain knowledge and skills. They learn more places and things to do in Laguna at the beach."

My son kept his mind sharp because there was more to being a JG than sheer physical endurance. JGs acquire a deeper appreciation and understanding of the marine environment—both its hazards and recreational opportunities. Robert learned about ocean safely, first aid, rescue techniques, body and board surfing, and marine safety operations. He learned what it takes to be a lifeguard and thinks it's something he'll pursue as a teenager.

Your child doesn't need to be a wimp to benefit, but kids must pass a swim test before enrollment. The biggest plus is to be one of the lucky 24,000 residents of Laguna. Residents have first preference for enrollment. Don't try to fake this requirement, because just like Beeler, the city staff knows everybody by face and name.

On sign-up day for non-residents, set your alarm early. At 5 a.m., a teenager walked by the blocks-long line of middle-aged parents sitting in lawn chairs and sleeping bags, and said, "Whoa! Must be some concert."

What we parents won't do for our kids--especially if the program does so much for them!

More information:

Laguna Beach Junior Lifeguards: www.lagunabeachlifeguards.com.

USLA- www.usla.org - United States Lifeguarding Assoc

CSLSA- www.cslsa.org - California Surf Live Saving Assoc.

Mom Made Me Go

Mom Made Me Go

By Charlie Ware

Written in 2004

Moving to Laguna Beach from Tustin in the mid '60's was a defining moment in my teen age life. At 14 years old, peer pressure and anyone older than me, could easily manipulate this skinny naive blonde hair blue eyed kid just off the inland bus, both to be good or bad. My mother knew this and when I spent my first summer in this paradise on the sand it was like the proverbial kid in the candy store. I couldn't get enough of the Laguna life style in those confusing and wild '60's. It was like the Amish boy moving to the city and proclaiming," Here I am, let me have it all." Not understanding the dangers that lay waiting with each new encounter. Also, I had very little ocean awareness and spending 12 to 15 hours a day at the beach unsupervised, was trouble just waiting to happen. I needed direction and mentoring, and quick. Within a few weeks into the summer of 1965, my mother enrolled me into the Laguna Beach Jr. Guard program. Little did I know how this beach safety program would change my life. I really didn't want to go at first because it would cut into my beach lounging and ocean fun as well as just hanging with my new friends, some of them the" wrong friends". I knew all about having fun at the beach and didn't need any beach baby sitting class to tell me how to behave. But, she dropped me off at Main Beach with a towel and a registration check and said," don't come home without learning about how to take care of yourself while at the beach". "I'm not going to worry about you our your brothers everyday anymore".( Subsequently, my three younger brothers all joined Jr. Guards too).Immediately, I could see that this was going to be great fun. So many new ways to enjoy the ocean and learn to respect this fantastic natural wonderland. But it wasn't just the great aquatic activities and beach safety that excited me. I had also found my first mentor in Dale Ghere, the program director for LBLG. His guidance and tutoring steered me clear of not only the hazards of the ocean environment, but the pitfalls of engaging the wrong life choices too. I had discovered a whole way of life with these larger than life watermen. I hung on to every story and ocean rescue technique they described so vividly. Always with a life learning point at the end. By summers end I had mastered most of the water and beach lessons and for the first time had a true sense of confidence and prowess. I now knew what I wanted to do each summer and two years later, that spring before my 16th birthday, I was asked to join the very first LBLG Rookie program. When I learned that I would wear the same uniform and train and perform just like the regular Lifeguards under Dale's direct supervision, you would have thought I had just discovered a bed of gold nuggets on the sand. And to hear Dale say we would be paid to do this for $1.75 hr., it was everything I could to do to contain myself in front of the other three rookie candidates (Bill Brown, Jeff Quam and John Enfield). I could see they were pretty stoked too. For 10 warm summers and a few off season cold days too, I passionately immersed myself into the world of Lifeguarding in Laguna Beach. Future LBLG mentors such as Jack Lincke, Dean Westgaard and others help me to grow and learn to appreciate our special ocean oriented way of living and build character with fantastic memories as well as make life long friends. And to think it all started with a mother’s great intuition and an excellent LBLG youth program. Every Laguna Beach mother should not deny their kids this excellent opportunity each summer, weather or not they may want to be a Lifeguard one day or not. They are guaranteed a lot of fun and a whole new way to look at the ocean and at life.

Charlie Ware

Surf's Up at Wedge

Surf’s Up at Wedge

By Jack Likins

2005

I remember one day during my second summer life guarding in Laguna hearing that the surf was up at “The Wedge” and I wanted to ride the big ones.

This story needs a little background, so here it is. Over a period of time from about 1960 to 1970 there were several graduating classes of water polo players and swimmers from Upland High School who would come to Laguna to take the lifeguard test every spring. Dean Westgaard, who was the assistant football coach at our high school, recruited most of us but his real claim to fame was jumping out of airplanes over Main Beach with his SCUBA gear on and then swimming to the beach under water, emerging as some sort of underwater god. Because of his reputation and our own abilities in the swimming pool, we all thought that we were pretty hot water “men”. I think we thought the ocean was just a big swimming pool with waves. Most of us had learned to body surf “big” waves at Brooks Street on 6-8 foot days. I remember the first time I had the feeling of skipping down the face of a wave on my chest. It was an exhilarating feeling! I could even stay in front of the curl getting 15-20 second rides.

Anyway, here's the wedge story. One day we heard through the lifeguard grapevine that the wedge was breaking. Some of us “men” from Upland wanted to go and ride the big ones so we tried to convince some of the older local lifeguards to come with us, but I think in retrospect, they knew better. Of course we all knew the wedge by reputation, but none of us had ever been there on a big day. We (my brother, Bob, John Whittaker and Gideon Letz) all decided to go the next morning to body surf the really big ones.

When we got there, fins in hand, it was kind of like the commercial on TV where the four guys arrive to kayak a class 5 rapid. After they actually see what a class 5 rapids looks like, they decide if they take a class 3 and class 2 rapids it would be the same as taking a class 5, and they leave (chickened out). The problem was that none of us, except Gideon, were smart enough to chicken out, so after watching for about ½ hour hoping the waves would get smaller, the other three of us went into the water.

The wedge was breaking as it usually does on big days with the backwash coming off of the jetty at about 3-5 feet and the main waves wrapping around the jetty and building up to about 15-18 feet. This combination made the peaks of the waves break with about 20-foot faces moving quickly across and parallel to the beach.

Finally there was a “lull” (about 10-12 ‘faces) so we got up the nerve to go into the water. As luck would have it, we waited just a little too long to get in between sets and as soon as we were past the point of no return, another set started. I was so focused (or was I scared?) on getting out through the white water that I didn’t see the other two guys at all as I tried to swim out getting pounded wave after wave, not quite making the following wave because it was a little bigger than the previous one. Between waves I’d get sucked out just enough that if I swam with everything I had, it continued to seem that it was better to keep swimming out rather than trying to return to the beach. Finally, after about 4-5 waves, they started to get smaller again and I made it out beyond the breaking lines of waves. I was so worried that another set would come that I kept swimming until I was about 50 yards beyond where I thought the biggest waves would break, trying to catch my breath. I looked around for Whittaker and my brother, but they were nowhere to be seen. By this time I was about 200 yards off shore in the rip next to the jetty.

After resting up and getting my nerve back up, I thought I’d better go back to the beach and look for them, or at least it was a good excuse to get out of the big surf. After one of the sets I slowly made my way toward the shore until I got to a wave that I thought I could ride into the shore (it was about 15-16 feet). I took off and got about a 3-second ride of my life until the back wash caught up with me and kicked me out in front of the wave and into a free-fall that landed me just far enough in front of the wave so that its full force came crashing down on my back driving me into the sand and tumbling me so many times that I had no idea which way was up except for the instants when I hit the bottom. It was so shallow that I could almost stand up, but it is also so steep that I could not get a foothold and the outgoing water from the waves would just suck me back into the next bigger wave coming at me. By the time the next wave would get to me, I would be 25 yards off shore again and there was nothing but a 10-foot wall of white water coming at me. After that happened a couple of times, the set passed and I got washed up onto the beach enough so that I could cling to the sand.

I saw my brother 50 yards down the beach crawling up the birm on his hands and knees. I made my way over to him and asked him how he was. He said, “ I was going to yell for help, then I realized that I was a lifeguard and if I couldn’t save myself, then no one else could either”. We got up and started looking for Whittaker. He was nowhere to be seen. Gideon came over and as we were all standing there trying to figure out what to do, Whittaker came walking up from behind us. When we asked him what had happened, he said,” I thought I had died and gone to heaven (he ended up going to Harvard’s School of Divinity so he was not exaggerating). He said that he had gotten pummeled so many times by the waves and swallowed so much salt water that once he got beyond the waves, he thought he had found his salvation in heaven and just kept swimming out to sea. By the time he had realized what was actually happening, he had reached the end of the jetty. He then swam around the jetty and back to the beach on the inside of the jetty.

We all learned that day that we were not the invincible water “men” that we thought we were. We also came home feeling lucky to be together again and with a newfound respect for the ocean and Mother Nature.

Surf’s Up at Wedge

By Jack Likins

2005

I remember one day during my second summer life guarding in Laguna hearing that the surf was up at “The Wedge” and I wanted to ride the big ones.

This story needs a little background, so here it is. Over a period of time from about 1960 to 1970 there were several graduating classes of water polo players and swimmers from Upland High School who would come to Laguna to take the lifeguard test every spring. Dean Westgaard, who was the assistant football coach at our high school, recruited most of us but his real claim to fame was jumping out of airplanes over Main Beach with his SCUBA gear on and then swimming to the beach under water, emerging as some sort of underwater god. Because of his reputation and our own abilities in the swimming pool, we all thought that we were pretty hot water “men”. I think we thought the ocean was just a big swimming pool with waves. Most of us had learned to body surf “big” waves at Brooks Street on 6-8 foot days. I remember the first time I had the feeling of skipping down the face of a wave on my chest. It was an exhilarating feeling! I could even stay in front of the curl getting 15-20 second rides.

Anyway, here's the wedge story. One day we heard through the lifeguard grapevine that the wedge was breaking. Some of us “men” from Upland wanted to go and ride the big ones so we tried to convince some of the older local lifeguards to come with us, but I think in retrospect, they knew better. Of course we all knew the wedge by reputation, but none of us had ever been there on a big day. We (my brother, Bob, John Whittaker and Gideon Letz) all decided to go the next morning to body surf the really big ones.

When we got there, fins in hand, it was kind of like the commercial on TV where the four guys arrive to kayak a class 5 rapid. After they actually see what a class 5 rapids looks like, they decide if they take a class 3 and class 2 rapids it would be the same as taking a class 5, and they leave (chickened out). The problem was that none of us, except Gideon, were smart enough to chicken out, so after watching for about ½ hour hoping the waves would get smaller, the other three of us went into the water.

The wedge was breaking as it usually does on big days with the backwash coming off of the jetty at about 3-5 feet and the main waves wrapping around the jetty and building up to about 15-18 feet. This combination made the peaks of the waves break with about 20-foot faces moving quickly across and parallel to the beach.

Finally there was a “lull” (about 10-12 ‘faces) so we got up the nerve to go into the water. As luck would have it, we waited just a little too long to get in between sets and as soon as we were past the point of no return, another set started. I was so focused (or was I scared?) on getting out through the white water that I didn’t see the other two guys at all as I tried to swim out getting pounded wave after wave, not quite making the following wave because it was a little bigger than the previous one. Between waves I’d get sucked out just enough that if I swam with everything I had, it continued to seem that it was better to keep swimming out rather than trying to return to the beach. Finally, after about 4-5 waves, they started to get smaller again and I made it out beyond the breaking lines of waves. I was so worried that another set would come that I kept swimming until I was about 50 yards beyond where I thought the biggest waves would break, trying to catch my breath. I looked around for Whittaker and my brother, but they were nowhere to be seen. By this time I was about 200 yards off shore in the rip next to the jetty.

After resting up and getting my nerve back up, I thought I’d better go back to the beach and look for them, or at least it was a good excuse to get out of the big surf. After one of the sets I slowly made my way toward the shore until I got to a wave that I thought I could ride into the shore (it was about 15-16 feet). I took off and got about a 3-second ride of my life until the back wash caught up with me and kicked me out in front of the wave and into a free-fall that landed me just far enough in front of the wave so that its full force came crashing down on my back driving me into the sand and tumbling me so many times that I had no idea which way was up except for the instants when I hit the bottom. It was so shallow that I could almost stand up, but it is also so steep that I could not get a foothold and the outgoing water from the waves would just suck me back into the next bigger wave coming at me. By the time the next wave would get to me, I would be 25 yards off shore again and there was nothing but a 10-foot wall of white water coming at me. After that happened a couple of times, the set passed and I got washed up onto the beach enough so that I could cling to the sand.

I saw my brother 50 yards down the beach crawling up the birm on his hands and knees. I made my way over to him and asked him how he was. He said, “ I was going to yell for help, then I realized that I was a lifeguard and if I couldn’t save myself, then no one else could either”. We got up and started looking for Whittaker. He was nowhere to be seen. Gideon came over and as we were all standing there trying to figure out what to do, Whittaker came walking up from behind us. When we asked him what had happened, he said,” I thought I had died and gone to heaven (he ended up going to Harvard’s School of Divinity so he was not exaggerating). He said that he had gotten pummeled so many times by the waves and swallowed so much salt water that once he got beyond the waves, he thought he had found his salvation in heaven and just kept swimming out to sea. By the time he had realized what was actually happening, he had reached the end of the jetty. He then swam around the jetty and back to the beach on the inside of the jetty.

We all learned that day that we were not the invincible water “men” that we thought we were. We also came home feeling lucky to be together again and with a newfound respect for the ocean and Mother Nature.

Big Wave at Aliso and A lesson in Humility

Big Wave at Aliso

By Phil Morreale

May 4, 2005

This is one of my most memorable life guarding moments.

A couple of years after expanding our guarding duties into South Laguna, I had the pleasure of working at Alisos Beach. Can't remember how many towers there were, but I was in the one just north of the pier (I think that was the only one). South swell pounding through and probably the largest I had seen in Laguna for years. Mid week, not a big beach crowd and I pretty much closed it down to swimmers. All that took was to walk down and talk to someone ready to go in and wait for a set to come through. Once that happened, most were thankful that I told them the beach was closed. The biggest sets were getting close to tipping off the base of the pier - huge...

Anyway, late in the day a guy shows up with fins in hand. I had seen him down there many times and he was very comfortable body surfing good size Alisos barrels. He heads out and after a couple of sets, no take offs and he seems to be sort of floundering just outside the surf line. I see the guard Jeep way down the beach to the south (Dave Kerr and someone else) and place a call to HQ that I’m heading out and could use some back up. As I head out, I see the Jeep heading my way with its lights flashing.

The next few minutes go something like this. I swim out and ask the guy how he's doing. He says he's tired and is having trouble timing it to get back in. I suggest we swim in together and as we float up the face of a mid size wave, I see a two or three set wave stacking up. I tell him that we will swim out past the set and once it’s over, swim in together. He agrees and I immediately turn and sprint, head down, for several strokes to get out of the impact zone. As I look up and begin to float up the face of wave number one, I see that he hasn't really moved. He's right in the impact zone and as I watch from the backside, feeling his pain, he pops up and utters a weak "help".

My first thought was to leave him to Dave and the other guard, who are now parked on the beach in front of us. However, I stroke back in and as we are floating up the face of a huge Alisos barrel (you know how awesome those are), I give him a push to make sure he makes it through the lip and into the safety zone. Major mistake as I now proceed to get sucked backwards over the falls and pounded butt first, ala turtle on his back, into the sand. How quickly the rescuer becomes a rescuee.

Fortunately, the set has ended and we swim in. As we come up on the beach, I notice that my shoulder has a welt that outlines the strap of the lifeguard tube. I never knew that could happen, but I had also never experienced an over the falls of that magnitude either.

The beauty of it lies in the fact that Dave and the other guy are just sitting in their seats in the Jeep, laughing their asses off. They proceed to describe how big the wave was and how they saw the lifeguard tube go over the falls and even though they did not see me, they assumed I got worked. I think I made their day. Lifeguard camaraderie at its finest.

Phil

A Lesson in Humility

By Dale Ghere

May 2005

This story was written in response to a letter I received from Phil Morreale explaining how it felt to go over the falls backwards at Aliso Beach.

Hi Phil,

Thanks for the story. I had a similar experience in 1961. Kiwi and I had just spent the past winter surfing the north shore. I had been in some pretty horrendous surf while we were there. One day I was the only guy who would go out with Peter Cole when Waimea was beginning to build. It was big enough when we went out everyone else said they would set it out and just watch. Mike Doyle loaned me his board. I thought it would paddle faster than my 9'10" x 19" would. His board was closer to 11' and was wider. I could knee paddle his board. Peter and I tried to catch a wave for three hours and neither one of us ever caught a wave. They were just too big. When one set broke across the whole bay, as one big shore break, Peter suggested we paddle in before one of us got killed. I agreed. It took another half hour to get to the beach. When we got in I asked the guys how big the waves were. No one wanted to state a size they just all agreed that they were the biggest waves anyone had ever seen at the Bay. During the rest of that winter I rode some very large surf. I felt confident about being in big waves by the time I got home. I had the confidence I could swim out of anything.

Then came the first day of training or the first day of the summer, I can't remember which. Main Beach was breaking at its max. It was one of those days where even the sand crabs go airborne. Even the average waves were causing other guards to back off or at least be very selective. That is when Kiwi and I decided to show them how it was done. We jumped in the water and took off on some waves that had everyone cheering. Just when I thought I had the upper hand on Nature and “the god of the waves” I received a big lesson on maintaining proper respect and a big dose of humility. I took off on what I thought was the biggest wave of the morning. I was being much too casual about the take off and I knew it. Waves that size deserve honor and require proper concentration. I wasn’t doing either and I paid the price for it. I took off, but didn’t really drive down the face hard enough. Then I got this feeling of suspended animation and knew I was getting sucked back into the wave and I was about to go over the falls. What a hit!!! Not only did I hit the bottom hard, but it also held me down and was just grinding my face in the sand. I thought, "Well that was dumb!!!" It hurt, yet I still thought I was in total control. My next thought was, “The wave should be letting me up”. No, I still had not been properly punished for being so arrogant. So I was held down a little longer. Actually it felt like a lot longer. Finally about the time I was thinking that this was enough the wave released me back into the real world of light and air. I couldn’t believe I had almost drowned right in front of the Main Tower with twenty guards watching.

I swam back to the beach and gratefully walked up on the dry sand. No one on beach knew what had happened. They thought I had just duck out the back of the wave. They could not see what went on inside that hollow monster. I accepted the praise for the waves I had taken. I didn't bother to take the time to explain the lesson I had learned that day. As kids we are all warned about getting ourselves into this kind of a situation, too much pride and a lack of humility. In cases like this, the lesson is just made clearer with a little pain sprinkled in to emphasize the points we were suppose to have learned earlier. Rock rescues and cliff training also have ways of causing you to think seriously about what you are doing. It is always good to be able to face fear and still get the job done, but one should do it with humility.

Footnote about the large waves at Wiamea - In those days I needed to prove I was brave enough to face any wave. If I had understood the physics of waves as well as I do now I would have known that it is not possible to paddle into waves of that size. None of the other surfers understood wave dynamics either. The speed of the water moving up the face of the wave increases as the wave height increases. Therefore, in order to paddle into a large wave the surfer is forced to paddle faster to overcome the upward moving water on the face of the wave. The size of the wave that can be ridden is therefore controlled to some degree by the ability of the surfer to paddle fast. Today’s surfers are riding waves too large to paddle into by switching to being towed into a wave by someone with a jet ski. You can be sure that every person taking off on a tow-in-wave is concentrating on what needs to be done. Pain avoidance is a strong motivator.

Roots - Skimboard History

Roots

Skimboard History

By Craig Lockwood – former Laguna Beach lifeguard

Written for Skimboard Magazine in 1989

“What’ve you got?”

Skimboard’ Publisher Ed Contreras was waiting underneath the big oak tree outside the magazine’s door. I’d called 15 minutes before, telling him to meet me.

“A real scoop,” I said. “The earliest skimming photo I have ever seen.”

Contreras eyes widened. “How old?”

“Nineteen twenty-nine. Sixty years old.”

Ed grabbed the faded 5x7’s and studied them intently. “Where were they taken?”” Right here on Main Beach. Local guys.”

“I had no idea skimming was this old. Did you?” Contreras said. I shook my head.

“Always thought it started in the fifties.”

The photos, however, were proof. Documented evidence. This kicked the earlier estimates back by 25 years. And it placed the birth place of the sport – for now- at Laguna Beach.

“Blows me away,” Ed Whistled. “This is so rad. Look at this dude. He’s lined up here. Look at this shot. Setting up for a spinner. Here he is the water.”

“Who is this guy? Is he still alive?” “Ed asked.

“Former lifeguard. Names George Griffith. He’s alive. He sent the photos to me.”

“We gotta do a story on this.” Ed said.

I nodded.

Here’s that story:

Skimboarding’s origins are probably lost in history’s mists. The facts are skimpy. The research is just beginning. I’m no historian – just a journalist. Journalist start their investigation by asking the five W’s.

Who tried skimming first?

When did skimming start?

Where did skimming start?

What were the boards like?

Why did the sport develop?

These questions may never be fully answered. Scholarship – the carefully systematized study of the subject – hasn’t been applied to skimboarding. This may be the first document reference to skimming’s historic origins. That’s called “primary source.”

Skimboarding probably started with bellysliding. Bellysliders use their chests for the planning surface. This was a sport for people with good backs. Bellysliding attrition rate is notably high – back injurywise.

Bellysliding was practiced in Hawaii at the time of Captain Cook’s arrival in 1778. Later, sailors off whaling ships picked up the rudiments. These moves gradually diffused, probably reaching California after the 1849 Gold Rush.

What happened next is unclear. Who was the first person to actually take a board, thro it on the water-covered sand, jump on and successfully ride standing up?

We may never know.

What we do know is that by 1929 – three months before the United States was plunged into the Great Depression – two young Laguna lifeguards made boards and started skimming. Luckily, one of them had camera and documented the event.

As we go to press – these are the earliest know documented photographs of skimming. The “provenance” or historical origin of these photos is verifiable.

Modern skimboarding started on a typical hazy June day in 1929. The place: Main Beach in Laguna Beach. Skimming’s first riders: George Griffith and Graeme Smith. Smith’s nick name was “Jimmy.” Both men – in their late 70’s – are still alive. Griffith is in good health and very active. Smith – whose hearing is impaired – is still blessed with good memory. Two brief interviews with each man were conducted over the phone. Rosemary Smith, Jimmy’s wife of 47 years, relayed my questions back and forth. Rosemary, growing up in Newport Beach, learned bellysliding, practiced it into the 20s.

Griffith and Smith were among the first lifeguards. In May of 1929 they were sent to San Diego to train in advanced lifesaving techniques. While there they saw a saw a man free boarding on and an “aquaplane” behind a boat.

The aquaplane was a tombstone-shape board 6 feet long. A bridle was fixed to the board and connected to the boat. The rider held the line attached to the board’s nose. Aquaplanes were made by Tom Blake, a Santa Monica lifeguard, who made surfboards and rescue equipment.

The innovation Griffith and Smith witnessed was the rider detaching the tow bridle and freeboarding holding only the towline.

The young Lagunans were impressed. Griffith made mental notes on the aquaplane’s construction. Driving back to Laguna they discussed it.

Once home, Smith made a board.

“I got the wood from an old redwood oil company sign,” Smith said. It was about six feet long two feet six inches wide.”

“I made another board,” Griffith recalls. “It was smaller, about five feet long and two feet wide. I used half inch marine plywood. I put three oak battens on it. One on the nose. The other was on the tail and the third about in the middle. These were to hold the rocker and to give it rigidity. I cut a keyhole in the nose that allowed us to tow the board behind a boat.”

Griffith counter sank the screws which held the battens on. He fined-sanded the board giving it multiple coats of varnish.

But boat tows were scarce so Smith and Griffith towed each other. This required a model-T Ford and a long stretch of Huntington’s open beach. Fun, tiring.

“Talk about raspberries!” Griffith chuckled as he described a 40-mph endo.

In June Don “Squeak” Squires, Smith’s classmate from Santa Ana College, showed up in Laguna. Smith guesses that Squires had grown up in Seal Beach – Huntington area. He isn’t certain. Squires – now deceased – was unavailable for comment.

Squires had apparently learned or developed basis skimming technique. He showed this to Smith and Griffith. They proved to be good students.

Developing more advanced techniques of skimming was a natural progression. Griffith and Smith quickly refined the techniques of running, dropping the board and skimming into the wave and turning back to the beach.

In the annals of skimming this is roughly equivalent to inventing the wheel.

Think of it this way: So remarkable was Smith and Griffith’s accomplishment that without it skimboarding wouldn’t be where it is today.

One generation taught the next. Other young Laguna boys caught skim-fever. Ed Hobert – former Chief Lifeguard, now in his 70s – remembers learning on another lifeguard’s board. The year was 1931.

“Dana Lamb made a skimboard five feet six inches long. The board was beautifully varnished and Dana wood burned a design on the deck. That board was shaped like a surfboard, exceptionally fast and maneuverable.”

Laguna Beach always had a tradition of skimboarding. Beach-oriented kids raised in Laguna learned the rudiments on homemade boards. Growing up at Crescent Bay – two miles north of Victoria – I learned.

Later as a lifeguard at Wood’s Cove in the late ‘60s I watched Hendy and his brothers learn skimming rudiments. I kept two round boards in my tower for the local grems. Wood’s Cove is the fifth cove north of Aliso Cove. Guy Westgaard’s dad Dean was a Laguna lifeguard and my supervisor.

Tex Haines – lived one cove up from Aliso. It was here Tex and Guy began reshaping skimming’s history.

Tex has been called the “father” of skimboarding. Strictly speaking- this isn’t accurate. Tex did far more. Tex revolutionized it. He took a beach pastime and guided it into a full-blown competitive activity.

Tex, Guy and Hendy – are lineal descendants of those early Laguna Beach skimmers. These photographs are proof of that unbroken lineage. Fifty-nine years of skimming history.

Roots.