Talk About a True Waterman.
By Tim Houts
I remember Earle from my rookie summer, 1976. It was my first time running relief. It was either big yellow or solid red flag surf. I ran down to the tower at
I looked out at the water, and a monstrous set was pounding through. Inside the impact zone was the lifeguard. He had hold of two kids wrapped in his tube with one hand, and a third tucked in close to him with his other. The wave crushed down on them. They disappeared beneath the towering white water. Then, a moment later they all popped up closer to shore in waist deep water. Earle held his ground with the three in his arms against the rush of the back wash and walked them out like a giant bear cradling three dolls. One lifeguard, three rescues.
He came to the tower, made a casual comment and then laughed a deep, jovial, chuckle from his large frame. After stripping to his speedos he headed out to body surf during his break. He repeatedly dropped in backwards into huge faces. Wow!
Later, after I'd become a regular guard working Crescent, I would see him walk down from his parents house. He'd have a Hawaiian sling spear in one hand and mask and snorkel in the other. He'd disappear into the water briefly before emerging with dinner, a nice halibut or corbina. It was as though he were the embodiment of Neptune himself.
John Slowsky wrote this story about a 3 ½ mile swim he and Earle made from Victoria Beach to
I remember I finished 30 seconds behind Earle. To be that close to someone who was so good at long distance swimming was gratifying. I have always taken that as a great achievement.
At the finish line his parents were there to meet us. I was surprised anybody would think to support our efforts. I was shocked and overjoyed that someone took the time to come watch us finish. After the race Earle invited me to his home and his mother made us hot chocolate. What a sweet memory.
In 2004 the lifeguard department had a reunion and the following day I spent the afternoon on the Beach with three great watermen; Craig Parsons, Kim Seaman and Earle. That evening when I got home I wrote something about each of them. This is what I recorded about Earle.
The fourth member of the group was Earle Wellsfry, a waterman’s waterman. Big, barrel-chested and strong, he is confident and capable in every way when he is in the water. He is the kind of person who makes other lifeguards breathe a sigh of relief when he shows up to a mixture of turmoil and trouble. More than one person owes their life to the quick and capable skills of Earle. When I arrived at Wood’s Cove Earle was not on the beach. He was in the water with two of his kids: Sam 10 and Sarah 9. They were all in the water free diving their way to Victoria Beach. Later, when they returned, I was told that Sam had found six lobsters on a night dive just a few nights earlier. They had released all of them because it had been just a training dive for Sam. Lobster season will start in October. Earle is getting him ready. This is the tradition of great watermen; they take pleasure in teaching their skills to younger people. This is how a new generation watermen is developed. The baton is passed and the tradition continue
This story was written by Earle in 2004.
Four things Earle learned while lifeguarding
1. Setting priorities
2. Communication skills
3. Courage
4. Once a lifeguard always a lifeguard (you cannot go to the beach and not be a lifeguard)
The rescue I always remember was at
We had been busy that day. Digger was finally able to eat a sandwich late in the afternoon. The sun was coming at an angle that was blinding him with its reflection coming off of the water. He could not see what I could from the north tower.
Towards the end of a large set when water had stacked up at the shore, setting up a massive rip, I saw an 8-9 year old kid knocked off of his feet. No guard wants to dive into the water in front of another guard, but I jumped off my tower and charged towards the water in front of Digger’s tower. Digger saw me, jumped to his feet and spat the sandwich out of his mouth while running towards what by now was a kid moving out to sea, about 40 feet from the shore, in a massive rip. When Digger hit the water, he was about 25 yards or so from the kid who was moving extremely fast, swirling in the middle of the rip. Meanwhile another set was coming in. A big one.
At the waters edge, I realized that if I hit the water as well as Digger, there would be no coverage on the beach. I hesitated. Digger could get that kid. If something else happened, I would get the next guy. My hesitation saved the boy’s life.
In what seemed like seconds, Digger and the victim were about a block out to sea. Digger got to about 10 feet from the kid and the kid went down in the swirling dirty water of the rip. The whole beach was watching. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. So did Digger. He turned around, looked at me and raised his hands in a manner that said, “Where is he?”
By this time, the crowd at the beach that August day was on its feet watching the terrible drama. I hit the water and in seconds I was about half a block out. Digger was way outside. Something made me stop swimming. I briefly turned to look towards shore. The rip was still taking me out. It was my last time to see the shore as a large wave was just about to hit. I wanted to make sure the kid wasn’t inside of me before foam covered the beach.
Just then, looking up into the wave I saw a body silhouetted in the wall of the wave. Going up the side of the wave I had just enough time to grab the body before going over the falls. The body was so far away from where I expected it to be that fear covered me. My thought at the time was, “Could there be more than one body floating out here?”
Adrenaline allowed me to hold onto that kid. When we came to the surface, he was not breathing. I was between the shore and another large wave while being worked by the rip. I was able to give him a puff just before the next wave hit us. I covered his mouth with my hand just as we were tumbled. Happily the foam was carrying us closer to shore. After that wave I was able to give him another puff. He started breathing. By this time, I realized the kid in my arms was the one I had seen knocked down on shore only 5 or 10 minutes before. I started feeling a lot better about life. I am sure Digger was as well!
When I walked out of the water, the kid was in my arms coughing out water and I was receiving a standing ovation from the crowd on shore. The mother and father of this kid were in tears. It was one of the best feelings I have ever had in my life. Once the father realized his son was alive and safe, he ran back to his blanket and tried to give me all the money he had in his wallet.
Now that I am a father of kids about the same age as that kid was, I totally understand his actions and feelings. Thank God that this turned out to be a happy ending. It could have easily ended up ugly.
The following was sent to Earle in December by Rob Patterson.
Please know that you are known as a powerful waterman who inspired many of us to venture out and try to match the power you demonstrated so effortlessly in the surf off
For those you saved and for those like me that you inspired on those all-to-scary red flag days I thank you.
When I heard of Earle’s death I wrote the following:
Few men have graced the beach with the gentle courage and strength of Earle Wellsfry. Because of his quick and decisive actions many lives have been saved. Certainly there has never been a more capable person to body surf the giant waves of
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The following was written by Earle’s youngest daughter.
Daddy, i will always love you. you are always in my heart, even though you are with the lord now. Rivers of tears are running down my face this very instent. There is no one like you dad. love you
- Grace Wellsfry
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