Today, I read a news article today about a young lady and her boyfriend who, on a dare (I suppose), jumped off of the Huntington Beach pier into the surf 40’ below.
The lady was rescued by surfers but, tragically, the boyfriend drowned. ,
I know this pier and the surf conditions there quite well, as I spent part of my youth bodysurfing and bellyboarding at that location. The surf can get gnarly, the riptide can be fierce, and the barnacles on the pier pilings can cut you up real nice. I have a scar on my right hip to attest to that.
Huntington Beach, memorialized in the Jan and Dean song “Surf City”, was a magnet for surfers and skimpy-bikini-wearing babes back in the mid- to late-1960’s. I was a competitive swimmer and a lifeguard in those days, and would head down to “The Pier” whenever my buddies and I had the time and a few bucks for gas (which was 25 cents per gallon back then!)
Our group, mostly competitive swimmers, were bodysurfers for the most part. However, we eventually built our own bellyboards with surfboard-sized skegs and would position ourselves out by the old bait house (mid-pier) to catch big waves and “shoot the pier”. This was risky business, because falling under the pier raised the prospect of being caromed off one barnacle-encrusted piling into another while holding your breath underwater.
There is a significant side current in effect at Huntington Beach, from left to right. To get out to the preferred spot (near the old bait house), the experienced guys would paddle out through the pier (between the pilings) or jump off the pier with their bellyboard or surfboard. I don’t know if that is allowed anymore due to the danger. Another danger to swimmers and surfers in the water near the pier is the fact that there are FISHERMEN angling off of the pier, so it is not uncommon to come upon some monofilament festooned with hooks and sinkers. No bueno.
We were, of course, dumbass teenagers back then and danger was not something that worried us much. Even though we were “expert” swimmers, we took our licks when the surf picked up. I can remember bodysurfing in 10’ waves at Huntington and getting my ass kicked, thinking that I was a few seconds from drowning. Of course, there were the good times, too, and there’s nothing comparable to catching a perfect wave and handling it with aplomb.
We even surfed The Pier in the Winter in wetsuits. It was really cold, and when we got out of the water our exposed skin would be blue-ish and our teeth would be chattering. Our favorite thing to do when we got out of the water was to wander down Main Street, go into a grocery store there, buy a huge baked potato dripping in butter and barbeque sauce, sit down on the curb, and have a feast. Wow, that really topped off the morning!
While I was in college, I drove down to Huntington one morning with my best friend “Pat” to do some bodysurfing. We had a great time, but not so great when I got back to my car: someone had broken into it and had stolen my wallet. Dammit! Among other things, I had to get a replacement driver’s license. Back when I first started driving, documentation wasn’t a big deal, but in 1968 the DMV was now requiring a legit birth certificate. I asked my Mom for my certified copy and she said, “There’s something that I have to tell you. Your birthday I fibbed way back when you entered Kindergarten. If I had used December 5th, you would have had to wait until the next term (one year). You were driving me nuts around the house and I had to do something, so I did. Sorry.”
(No biggee, I guess, but I subsequently wondered how I would have done in academics and sports if Mom had waited one year to enroll me.)
When our kids were teenagers, I would take them down to the beach occasionally. I was in my mid-Thirties by then and could still “show off” my swimming and bodysurfing prowess. I recall one time when we spent the day at Crescent Bay (in Laguna Beach), a beautiful, boutique place renowned for a good shore break in shallow water. I took a hefty wave that I shouldn’t have, showing off to the boys, and I got planted in the sand. We had to scurry up to the local emergency hospital where they determined that I’d cracked a bone in my elbow. How embarrassing!
Me and my buddies used to bodysurf and bellyboard at The Wedge in Newport Beach, just down Pacific Coast Hwy from Huntington. The Wedge is probably the most famous shore break location in the world, with waves banking off the rock jetty to create massive waves that break in about 18 inches of water.
It is very dangerous there: surfboards and people’s bodies get broken, and occasionally some unlucky guy gets killed. It is not uncommon to surf ten foot waves there and, a few days each year, there will be days when the sets are averaging 15 to 18 feet. As good as we were in the pool and in the ocean, me and my buddies were overmatched when The Wedge got up to 10 feet. Then, it was time to get out of the water and watch the lumberjacks from the USC water polo team risk life and limb on those heavy waves.
As those young folks learned this past week, the ocean can be a dangerous place. “Man’s got to know his limitations!”, as Dirty Harry once said.
The last time that I went to The Pier at Huntington Beach with the family was when I was about 40 years old. For some reason, probably pride, I decided to don my fins and swim around the Pier. The pier is 1,850 in length, which I believe is the longest ocean pier on the West Coast. Anyway, I was getting tired when I got to the end of the pier and now had to get back to shore. All of the sudden, I realized that I was not in very good shape and COULD DIE out there with the riptide, side current, and moderate surf taking its toll on me.
Luckily for me, when I was at about the point of exhaustion and really worried about my survival, I caught a wave and rode it all the way into shore.
Without that lucky break, I might have become one of the tragic statistics of The Pier at Huntington Beach.
I have a great respect for the ocean now: lots of bad things can happen out there. I think I am retired from ocean swimming.
