Swell Memories by Dermot flashes back to Poles.
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails...Explore. Dream. Discover." -- Mark Twain
POLES by Dermot
On three, ready.... One…Two… Three…and
at the top of our lungs we yelled – FOREVER!
There…we did it. Three close friends just committed themselves to surf forever.
Three young kids were enjoying a clear, crisp, South Florida afternoon. The memory of this particular afternoon, at least for me, would in fact last forever. It was a typical South Florida winter day late in the afternoon, January 1969.
A cold front had pushed through that morning and we just knew the north swell would be there. Gus, Bill, and I were at a spot called Poles. It was not a well known spot, in fact only the three of us knew about it. You see, Poles was a spot behind a very large hotel and right between two small groins. The only access to the spot was to walk along the beach from either a few blocks north or a few blocks south. Stuck between two groins, and behind the hotel, about 20 yards out from the beach, was a single, solitary… pole.
At high tide with the usual choppy wind wave that existed the pole could often pose a dangerous threat. However, this afternoon the tide was low, a swell was pushing south, and a clean ocean revealed our solitary pole. We could easily avoid this obstruction if we had to. The three of us had absolutely no idea how the pole got there. For all we knew when the great cataclysmic event that created the earth occurred our ominous and solitary pole was part of that event.
All three of us spent years on this particular stretch of beach and the pole was always there…always a familiar spot to check. The cold front didn’t produce a great swell and our usual spot south of Poles wasn’t all that good. However a quick look north at Poles revealed whitewater and what appeared to be a waist high lefthander.
Shivering in the afternoon cold and wind, the three of us walked north to Poles and paddled out. That afternoon, many years ago, three close friends spent a portion of their youth enjoying fun waves and the camaraderie that only surfers know. The waist high swell breaking at poles that afternoon created a lifetime’s worth of memories. The three of us surfed poles until nearly dark. We were forced out of the water by a stiffening breeze and the long shadow of the hotel as it darkened our playground.
As we walked south to exit the beach we laughed and told
lies about the surf and how well we did. We weren’t three South
Florida surfers…we were Billy Hamilton, Dewey Weber, and
Lance Carson. Suddenly the laughter stopped and in the dying
light of a South Florida winter evening three friends put their hands
together and made a commitment to surf… forever.
April 2000…it is fall in the South Pacific. I jumped
out of the ponga at Namotu Lefts, Fiji, into
a grinding 8’-10’ South Pacific swell. The waves that break
around the tiny islands of Namotu and Tavarua travel thousands of miles
unabated up from the stormy Antarctic, only to slam into a coral reef.
Like any deep ocean swell that suddenly hits a reef,
the white water explodes with such ferocity the size of the white water
is often considerably larger than the swell itself. It’s a breathtaking
sight that makes you pause – if just for a moment. I only had to
paddle about 15 yards from where we got out of the ponga over to the lineup.
I couldn’t believe my surroundings or how lucky I have been over
the years. The three of us in the ponga had not been to the South Pacific,
much less Namotu, and were stoked beyond comprehension. Mystically, as
if on queue, we put our hands together and yelled – FIJI.
At that very instant, 6000 miles from California, and 9000 miles from
my surfing roots in Florida, and well over 30 years later I remembered...….Poles.
The three of us dispersed ourselves into the lineup and I sat waiting
for my first wave. A moment of melancholy, even amongst this magnificent
setting, came over me. I wasn’t surfing with Gus and Bill, my two
friends from Florida, but my friends from California.
As I sat there waiting in this perfect setting I wondered why I still loved to surf?
What was it that kept me in the water for over 35 years?
Like my childhood friends, I had my own family, career, and responsibilities…but I could not extricate myself from the water…I had to surf forever.
I thought of Gus and Bill at that moment and wished
they were there to enjoy this with me. What is it that happens over the
course of a lifetime that separates friends and makes them give up something
they so dearly love? Is life so hard, so complicated, and so full of twists
and turns that it forces you to give up the ocean? Do the dreams and commitments
made as a youth have to die with age? Do they have to die with responsibilities?
My own life had its twists and turns but I still surfed – why me?
I didn’t have the answers, didn’t want to search…just
wanted to surf. All I knew was that I would catch a wave for Bill and
Gus.
I hadn’t surfed Poles in over 25 years.
As I kicked out into the channel after my first screaming left hander
at Namotu I realized one other thing......this place was not Poles!
~Dermot
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