Surfing Kauai

August 10, 2011 by Leave a Comment

My first paddle out on Kauai’s south shore reminds me of the difference between surfing coral reefs and the sand bottom beach breaks and points I have surfed most of my life.

At this coral reef, waves come of nowhere, bendover the reef and slam in front of me. I can’t quite figure out what is going on.

The wave is a classic A-frame breaking on a shallow reef a couple of hundred yards from shore. My sons, Israel and Daniel, are surfing a left down the beach. Another wave that is even hollower breaks just a bit west.

Surfers paddle around me as if I am not there. As a first timer to the reef, I am  just in the way.

I catch a few rights and remember the sound advice given to Israel by South Bay Union School District Trustee Dave Lopez before we departed.

“You have to really paddle over that hump to get into the wave. You have to be committed,” said Dave,who is an excellent surfer and lived in the islands for years.

My strategy at this particular spot is to sit inside the main crew, a tight group of older surfers (okay—my age—fortysomethings) who surf very well and have the lineup dialed. A younger core group of rippers sits inside and snap everything up the older guys can’t get into.

What I fail to realize is that the current sweeps across the reef. When a set comes I am smack in the middle of the impact zone.

Three surfers paddle for the first wave of the set. All three take off.

Normally I would have been okay. In any other location three surfers would not have dropped in on the same hollow wave breaking over a shallow reef.

The guy closest to the whitewater, who should have had priority, doesn’t see me inside of him. I hope he will decide to go left to avoid me.

No such luck. He is heading straight for me. At the last minute I bail my board and dive deep. He completely runs me over.

After bouncing around underwater I emerge and see his board but there is no surfer to be seen. After what seems like eternity, he emerges from the foam. Luckily we are both okay and our boards weren’t dinged.

And then two more set waves hammer me.

Welcome to Hawaii.

The boys and I surf with only a few other people each morning. The locals know there is no need to dawn patrol. The trade winds blow sideshore-offshore all day, everyday.

A couple of days later the surf picks up again. I notice a group of surfer girls paddle out at the left where Israel and Daniel  are out surfing.

One of the girls, a tall blonde, has an odd way of paddling. It is as if her arm is tucked below her board.

Photo by Noah Hamilton

Image via Wikipedia

It is Bethany Hamilton, a professional surfer and the subject of the film Soul Surfer. When she was 13 and in the waters of Kauai’s North Shore, she was bitten by a 14-foot tiger shark and lost her arm.

Bethany Hamilton

Image by Kanaka Menehune via Flickr

When I saw her she had just recovered from an injury she received while surfing in Indonesia.

By the way Bethany rips.

What most impressed me about our time on Kauai was the passion locals have for the ocean. The old guys are ripping on short boards. The young guys are shredding.

People are paddling into critical waves, paddling their outriggers outside the lineup and everyone seems to have a smile on their face.

One evening just before sunset, a local paddles out at the reef. He looks like a UFC fighter, ripped, arms covered in tattoos, with long bleached hair.

This is the local I’ve been dreading. The one who is going to look at me and tell me to leave.

But as he enters the lineup he is grinning and warmly greets his friends, and smiles as he paddle by me.

I smile back as the heavy local paddles hard for a wave but doesn’t quite make it. “There will be another one brah,” he says to me. “There will be another one.”

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Basque Barrels Part I: Surfing in France

July 20, 2011 by 1 Comment

The left at Alcyon

There is a photo from a 1970s era Surfer Magazine of a man leisurely sitting on a bench in the Basque Country of France. He is overlooking a perfect right—a blue-green bomb–peeling into an empty channel.

For me the photo encapsulated all the reasons to travel—finding empty beautiful waves in picturesque and exotic settings.

So two weeks ago, I was elated to find myself in exactly the same spot as the photo. I was above the legendary Parlementia reef in the picturesque seaside village Guerthary, France.

Just like in that historic photo, the waves were pumping.

Daniel at Alcyon

I had come to France to introduce my children to the country of my father, whose family still lives in and around Paris. The boys flew over with my dad first.

After they had spent a couple of wonderful couple of weeks in Paris and the French countryside, I flew over to take them south to the Basque Country—ground zero for the European Surfing scene.

After a couple of days of sampling the sights and bubbly delights of the Champagne country southeast of Paris, where my uncle has a house, the boys and I loaded up a 2002 Renault mini-wagon, with our surfboards and camping gear.

Israel, Vincent, Margaux and Daniel.

My cousins Vincent and Margaux accompanied us. Both had enjoyed spending summers in Imperial Beach (Vincent was even an IB Junior Lifeguard) and love the ocean.

Vincent has spent last year’s summer vacation in the village of Seignosse, home to what Surfer Magazine recently called the world’s best beachbreak and one of the world’s best waves.

Guethary and the beach of Bidart.

After an uneventful eight-hour drive, we arrived in Guethary that is located just south of the French surfing capital of Biarritz. The village is precariously perched above the Palmentaria reef.

While the waves were small, we could see waves capping and rolling on the reef.

At the Basque Surf Company Pro Surf Shop in Guethary, where I rented a 6’8” epoxy fun board and Vincent rented a soft-top, we met shop proprietors Romo and Esteban, both longtime locals.

Alcyon

“The surf is going to get big tomorrow, 8-10’. Palmentaria is the Sunset Beach of France,” said Esteban, who had grown up speaking Basque in Guethary and was of mixed Spanish and American ancestry.

The boys and Vincent paddled out at a nearby beachbreak. The waves were small, but the water was a balmy 68 degrees.

That evening we sat around our tents in a nearby campground eating pizza and imagining the waves we would surf the next day.

The following morning, the boys and I were up early. While a bit of south wind was making things a bit sloppy, the sets at Palmentaria were in the six-foot range and there were just a handful of surfers to sample them. We all caught a few rights and then paddled in as the wind came up.

Later that morning, we realized that there was another wave to the south of Palmentaria, a left called Alcyon, that is the “Big Rock” of France.

Alcyon is a grinding left that is best at low tide.

Israel at Alcyon

Israel paddled out and caught a few gnarly 4-6’ lefts. “It was super shallow and the takeoff was super tight,” he said. “Some guy started yelling at me in French, and I had no idea why he was angry.”

The next day the wind was offshore and the waves were pumping. The sets at Alcyon were in the 6-8’ range. Only a handful of guys were out.

Across the bay I could  see triple overhead peaks breaking over the Palmentaria reef. The scene reminded me of a winter-day at the Sloughs.

I snapped a few photos of the boys surfing Alcyon. Then I put on my rashguard, grabbed my board and paddled out at Palmentaria.

The waves were breaking close to a half a mile from shore. Big peaks came out of deep water and heaved across the reef.

An eclectic crew of hardcore longtime local surfers were out on 9-10’ big-wave guns. There were a couple of visiting Japanese surfers and one other American.

Everyone is friendly and stoked to be surfing an overhead swell in the summer.

I am completely undergunned on my 6’8”. But I manage to catch a few of the smaller set waves (I can’t even paddle into the larger ones), get caught inside and hammered. I appreciate why Palmentaria is compared to Sunset.

While I wish I had been able to surf on of my own big-wave boards, I was still glad to experience a wave I had dreamed about since I was a teenager.

On our last surf day, we headed to the fabled beachbreaks of Hossegor north of Biarritz. Miles and miles of sandbanks provide deep and often empty tubes for visiting and local surfers.

The world’s best surfers assemble here each fall to compete in the Quiksilver Pro France.

Daniel at Le Penon

The boys and I popped over the sand dunes of Le Penon in the village of Seignosse. The waves were 3-5’ and offshore.

“It is going off,” said Daniel.

For the rest of the day, we catch dozens of waves. Israel broke his board on a stand-up barrel.

At low tide I found a sand bar spitting out A-frames. One other surfer joined me, a local, who like me was mystified that on a Saturday afternoon during the height of summer, we were the only ones out.

I can’t wait to go back.

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Remembering Gromhood

June 22, 2011 by 4 Comments

I started surfing at the age of 13 in 1977. My Hemlock Avenue neighbor Harry Hildebrand hooked me up with Radical Roy who sold me a 6’11 no-name winger-rounded pin single fin for thirteen dollars. Harry sold me a beavertail wetsuit for four dollars.

Seventeen dollars was a lot of money back then.

After I bought my board, I would ride my bike down to the beach and spend the day off of Elm Street. There I met Donny Dominguez who seemed to know more about surfing than I did and was the proud owner of an electric purple Richard Jolie pintail.

Everyday at the beach was an adventure.

When school started I stared surfing with Jim Dodds, Marty Stone, Bobby Maupin, Chris Patterson, Tim Hannan, Greg Parman, Larry Crauswell, Tim Sweeney, John Arnold, and Dan Mehlos as well as with Donny.

My first trip to real Baja with my dad and Tim Hannan back in the epic X-mas break of 1978.

Greg, who was in the ninth grade, was a real surfer. He had an effortless style, could pull of laybacks at the snap of a finger, and was one of San Diego County’s best groms. He had a Christmas color winger swallow single-fin (a Sunset?).

Greg was cool and we were all trying to be cool. But the minute we hit the water, none of that mattered. All we wanted to do was surf. Every day. All day.

I still do.

Later in high school I met the real surfers-Tim Decker, Barry Palmatier, Lindy Dalmas, Bill Johnson, Mark Ganderton, and Randy Garvin–who all ripped and seemed to know everything about surfing. They manned the surfer bench that freshman were not allowed to sit at.

If we were lucky they found a place in their surfmobiles for us on surf trips to Baja and the Cliffs. It seemed like sometimes half of the IB surfer population could be found at Baja Malibu or the K-38’s parking lot.

Back in the late 70s, there was no surf forecast. No one had a clue when waves were coming. We just showed up at the beach everyday and hoped for the best.

Of course my first years of surfing were epic El Nino surf years. In 77-78 the surf pumped non-stop. So did 79-80 when the giant surf destroyed the Imperial Beach Pier. The Sloughs broke way outside.

On my first outing there with the grom squad we got pushed south of the rivermouth, but somehow scratched back to the outside.

Out in the IB lineup I met the guys who defined IB surfing—Mark and Glen Gould, Kelly Kraus, Dave Parra, Radical Roy, Randy Coutts, Aaron Chang, Mark Stone, Jim Sullivan, the Carroll brothers, Jim and Bobby Barber, Richard Abrams, Pat McClosky, Coco, Bobby Spitzer, the Smith brothers, and Richard Cacnindin among other. Dempsey Holder was always around the beach. Dave Craig, Mike Richardson and Jay Novak were the shapers of choice for IB surfers (back when IB surfers only rode boards shaped by local shapers). Aaron Chang was just starting his career as a surf photographer (I remember his first slideshow at the IB library where his mom was a librarian).

Occassionally a surf movie–Going Surfing, Five Summer Stories—would play at the Palm Theater and the entire South Bay surfing population would turn out.

It was awesome.

Jim Knox was our first high school surf coach and took us to Baja on surf trips. His brother Jeff had just finished grad school at UCLA and moved back to IB. I met Jeff and his wife Mercedes on my second surf to Baja back in 1979 with my dad and Jim Dodds.

Back then no one had any money. All we had was stoke.

Today everything has changed. But the most important things haven’t.

We are still lucky that we get to surf and share the stoke with lifelong friends and all the groms who are just like we were.

Perpetually stoked.

Filed Under: Imperial Beach, Surfing, Uncategorized Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Swell Chasers

May 26, 2011 by Leave a Comment

From my IB Patch Southwest Surf column May 26, 2011:

Last Thursday, when the first real south swell of the season hit, the beach was closed in Imperial Beach. No roping lefts off the pier, or grinding tubes at the south end of the beach.

Shane Landry scores a left.

Luckily Zach Plopper and I happened to have a meeting at the WiLDCOAST office in Ensenada. We decided to try our surfing luck on the way home.

We headed north to check out San Miguel. The surf was washed out. So we turned around to check out a nearby reef.

The surf was firing and the lineup was empty. The reef offered up a fun selection of 4-5 foot, semi-lined up and punchy lefts.

Again on Friday, serendipity played a role in finding great waves.

On Thursday evening, an old friend, Greg Tate, arrived for a visit. Greg’s a backyard shaper and goofy foot from Florida.

Israel, Greg and Daniel.

Israel, Greg, and Daniel at Scripps Pier with boards Greg shaped.

Twelve hours after his plane touched down at San Diego International Airport, we found ourselves traipsing down the trail to Trestles, and the surf exceeded our expectations.

The wind was offshore, the waves were hollow and the non-stop sets were way overhead.

Greg paddled out at Cotton’s. I needled my way through the lineup at Uppers.

While surfing I caught up with Mark Rauscher of the Surfrider Foundation. He  updated me on the still ongoing effort to prevent the Transportation Corridor Agencies (TCA) from building a toll-road through San Onofre Beach State Park, the home of Trestles.

“The TCA is still trying to get that toll road through. But we are monitoring them,” Mark said before catching a great set wave.

Nothing like talking about saving a surf spot while surfing epic waves at that very  break.

A few hours later Greg and I regrouped. Like everyone that morning we were both hammered by sets that swung wide and outside.

On the way home we stopped at Beacon’s in Leucadia for a surf check (the wind had come up so we didn’t paddle out) and ran into legendary IB surfer Shawn Holder, who now lives in North County, where he owns a Pannikin Coffee and Tea in Encinitas.

“I’ve been surfing and stand-up paddling northern Baja most of the winter. Most of the time I surf alone,” Shawn said, a former IB lifeguard captain who is still as stoked on the surf as ever.

On Saturday we returned to Trestles for an IB gromathon.

Surf dads Dave Lopez and Jason Stutz joined me in the lineup at Lowers along with grom squad members Daniel Dedina. Loukas Lopez, Vinnie Claunch, Noah Bender, Jake Stutz and Shane Landry. As usual the groms scored wave after wave on the inside.

After our session we picked up my son Israel at the CIF swim finals at Del Norte High School in Poway and drove to La Jolla. At the Scripps parking lot we ran into two hardcore members of the IB underground who raved out scoring perfect waves at a local reef the day before.

“Dude,” one of the surfers said, “We never even check IB when it is polluted. We don’t want to get sick.”

Scripps wasn’t working so we headed south to the La Jolla reefs. The boys found some fun lefts at an empty slab while Greg and I sat on a bench and watched the show.

On Sunday morning a southwest wind was blowing so we headed to La Jolla to see if we could snag some sideshore peaks. The ocean cooperated with A-frames up and down the beach, which brought out a moderate crowd and fun waves to play around in.

On the beach I found Craig Engelmann who I grew up with in IB. Now living in Coronado, Craig was carefully watching his son Casey surf with Israel and Daniel.

All in all it was a great weekend. Our sessions proved that despite the throngs of surfers that populate the beaches of Southern California, we can always find plenty of surfing opportunities at beaches south and north of Imperial Beach and Coronado.

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Cold Water Blues in Canada

April 13, 2011 by Leave a Comment

My Imperial Beach Patch Southwest Surf Column for April 13, 2010:

The water temperature and the weather weren’t that bad. Really. The ocean temp was in the high 40s and the air was in the mid-to-high 40s. Springtime conditions.

Even with the warmer weather, I wasn’t sure what to expect as I hit the water at Chesterman Beach, one of the most popular surfing beaches on Vancouver Island.

But as I waded through the whitewater, I realized that it wasn’t going to be that bad.

Of course I was covered from head to toe in rubber—hood, gloves, booties and my 4-3-2 Matuse Tumo suit. So I was toasty.

As I paddled through the whitewater to catch some of the fun 3- to 4-foot sideshore peaks, I realized that the lineup was virtually empty with the exception of a tight group of five local surfers, who were all shredding.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. It was Pete Devries, Canada’s hottest surfer (who appears on the cover of the latest issue of Surfer magazine, and who happens to ride boards shaped by Jay Novak), and his band of local shredders.

Devries, who is sponsored by Hurley, pulled big snaps, airs and slashing roundhouse cutbacks in the small but rippable waves.

I joined the crew, who were at the northern end of Chesterman, and was greeted with smiles and friendly waves. I was even given a wave or two.

After about an hour, I returned to the beach to find Emily, my wife, who had gone for a walk while I was in the water. The long beach was filled with beginner surfers who didn’t seem to mind the cold conditions.

Emily and I had traveled to Vancouver Island to attend the 25th Annual Pacific Rim Whale Festival so I could give a couple of talks on coastal conservation in Baja and promote my new book, Wild Sea.

Between my surf sessions, we took walks among the desolate dunes and forests of Pacific Rim National Park and wandered the streets of Tofino, a former fishing and logging town that was named “the best surf town in North America,” according to Outside magazine.

I couldn’t imagine a more perfect place to spend quality time with Emily, who in the past suffered through surf safaris that involved spending more time hunkering down out of the wind in Baja (we lived there for three years) than enjoying the beach.

At the Wildside Grill, hands down the world’s best and coolest surf eatery, Emily and I scarfed down amazing fish tacos, fresh seafood chowder, and the best salmon burgers I have ever eaten. Wildside is owned by commercial fisherman Jeff Mikus and longtime surfer and chef Jesse Blake. While waiting for my order, I traded mainland Mexico stories with Jesse, who is familiar with the rivermouth waves of Guerrero and Michoacan.

Wildside chef and surfer Jesse Blake.

The following day, after I surfed empty offshore 3- to 5-foot right reforms at Wickaninnish Beach in Pacific Rim National Park Reserve, Emily and I ate fresh salmon at the more rustic and surf-themed Shelter in Tofino. The food and views of snowy peaks from the restaurant behind the island-studded Tofino Inlet were priceless.

That afternoon after giving a talk, the surf came up. I paddled out at Wickaninnish expecting mellow overhead waves. Instead I realized that I had underestimated the size and power of the new swell. The sets were 6- to 8-foot and were breaking with a lot of power. Pete and his merry men were ripping the well overhead peaks.

I was trying to figure out the lineup that reminded me of being caught in the middle of the Sloughs. While I caught a few peaks, the cold water found an entryway between the sleeves of my wetsuit and my gloves. By my third wave, I was really cold and my body was shutting down. I caught a set wave in and was humbled by the ability of local surfers and their dedication to surfing in a region where surfing isn’t that easy.

The next day, Emily and I headed back over the snowy mountain pass to take the ferry to Vancouver. We agreed that Tofino and Vancouver Island were definitely worth returning to.

Thanks to the beautiful Water’s Edge Resort for their hospitality and the Pacific Rim Whale Festival for their invitation to speak at the festival. Another excellent local restaurant that is fisherman owned and supplied is the Offshore Seafood Restaurant in Ucluelet. A big mahalo to the local surfers who keep the true spirit of surfing alive in the cold waters of the North Pacific. We flew Alaska Airlines to Vancouver from San Diego and I was charged $60 roundtrip for board fees—not too bad.

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My Surf Mum

March 4, 2011 by 6 Comments
 

Me, my mother and my brother Nicky in West Hollywood before a wedding in 1979.

I wrote about my mother recently in a Surf Mum posting. I spent a lot of time with my mother before she passed away. But as I wrote in my story about her, much of my childhood was spent at the beach with in the company of my mother, my dad and brother Nick.


Josephine Alexandra Fournier Dedina, 73, passed away at her home near the beach Feb. 23 from ovarian cancer. Known as Jo to family and friends, she lived in Imperial Beach with her husband of 54 years, Michel Dedina.

She was born in London, England, in 1937, the youngest of three daughters of Lou and Dorothy Fournier.

My mother and father on their wedding day in 1957 in New York City.

German bombing raids during World War II and the experience of being evacuated to the north of England later influenced her anti-war and environmental activism as well as a future career on behalf of children’s welfare.Upon moving to Imperial Beach with her family in 1971, Jo quickly became involved in ultimately successful efforts to preserve the Tijuana Estuary from development, during which time Jo met Mike and Patricia McCoy.

“I really loved her. I really did,” Patricia said.

The two woman had a lot in common. Both grew up in World War II England and shared a “wicked” sense of humor and love for the environment and justice.

“It’s hard to put it into words but she was a very spirited and principled person, and she taught her boys to fight for what was true and right and I think that it shows,” Patricia said. “She brought them up to respect these things, people rights and that sort of thing.”

My mother and my little brother Nicky at Carlsbad State Beach in the late 1960s.

In 1974, Jo and her family moved to El Salvador in Central America for a year.

There, she volunteered in an orphanage. The poverty and injustice witnessed played a role in her decision to earn a law degree at the Thomas Jefferson School of Law.

For 30 years, Jo specialized in juvenile justice to aid children and families across San Diego County as a public defender and judge pro tem.

The Dedinas traveled widely and lived in Paris, London, New York City, the Cornish Coast of England, Los Angeles, El Salvador and Morocco.

My brother Nicky, my mother, my Swiss Uncle Emile Moura and me. San Felipe around 1972 or 73.

Both warmhearted and quick-witted, Jo loved cooking and entertaining for family and friends.

After retiring, she spent time gardening, doting on her three grandsons, reading mystery novels and doing the daily crossword puzzle. She loved visiting family abroad, before advancing multiple sclerosis made travel too difficult.

Family members, including her niece, Zena and her husband, Martin Bray, frequently traveled from England to Imperial Beach to see her and help care for her as her health declined.

“She kept her spirit until the end and she never let people see it get her down except for close friends,” Patricia said.

Jo is survived by her husband, Michel Dedina, their two sons, Serge and Nick, and three grandsons, Israel, Daniel and Paolo.

A memorial service will be held Sunday, March 6 from 1–4 p.m. at the Dempsey Holder Safety Center in Imperial Beach in the lifeguard station.

In lieu of flowers, please send donations to the Imperial Beach Boys & Girls Club.

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Wild Sea Review: WiLDCOAST founder’s inspiring book celebrates miracle of our coasts

February 22, 2011 by Leave a Comment

A review from the Southwestern College Sun

Surfers are a hardy bunch, as Dr. Serge Dedina makes clear in his fascinating mew book. Even a bad shark bite cannot deter a dedicated surfer from entering the ocean-or loving it.

Daniel Dedina surfing the Imperial Beach Pier-the setting for some of Wild Sea.

Dedina, the brilliant and maverick surfer-philosopher-environmentalist from Imperial Beach, captures the majesty and mystery of our oceans in, “Wild Sea: Eco Wars and Surf Stories From The Coast of The Californias.”

He challenges people to be active by touching their hearts with personal stories from an array of people who live off and love the oceans of the Californias.

As executive director of WiLDCOAST/COSTASALVAjE, Dedina’s outside the box approaches to multi national environmentalism has helped save beaches, wildlife, and people. His book has a similar mission.

Dedina’s ability to conduct intimate interviews helps establish a relationship with environmental concerns. In one portion of the 168-page book, he interviews local fishermen who live near Magdalena Bay, the famous grey whale breeding ground. Through their stories, the reader can see the bay through the fishermen’s eyes. An ocean is a way of life.

Dedina successfully gets his message across with assertiveness and urgency, but without coming off as preachy. This makes the reader more open to hearing what he has to say and taking a real interest in the issues he promotes.

He warns us about the subtle and overt destruction of the coasts and the repercussions through the personal stories of people who live and work on the ocean and shoreline of the California and Baja. Baja’s fishermen agree they also care about the coast, and want to save it for their children and grandchildren.

Serge Dedina surfing Imperial Beach.

Dedina grew up in Imperial Beach, and spent many days with his family out on the ocean, surfing the sunlight away. Now he fights to preserve the coast for future his two sons. He was honored last year as the Southwestern College honorary degree recipient.

Dedina used many clever and ingenious tactics to get his message across. He has involved the local punk scene, was an advisor on the HBO show, “John From Cincinnati,” and teaming up with a popular luchador, El Hijo del Santo, to make videos that promote saving our coastal regions. WiLDCOAST is known for its proactive campaigns to save sea turtles and sharks.

The Lucha Libre El Hijo del Santo appears in m...

El Hijo del Santo, star of WiLDCOAST campaigns.

Dedina tells a story of hope and continued ambition to protect and preserve, not just the coastlines of California, but also the natural beauty of the world. “Wild Sea,” is an important and thought-provoking book. Best of all, it is a fun read.

 

Filed Under: Wild Sea, WiLDCOAST Tagged With: , , , , , , , ,

Toxic Barge

February 18, 2011 by Leave a Comment

Between storms I was out surfing yesterday in Imperial Beach. Luckily it had not rained much on Wednesday, so the water was crystal clear, there were only a few of us out, and the waves were fun.

While I was in the water, the toxic barge arrived with a load of sediment dredged up from San Diego Bay laced with heavy metals and PCBs to be dumped just offshore.

Toxic barge arrives in Imperial Beach with sand laced with PCBs and heavy metals. Glad the ocean is a garbage dump. Photo: Alan Jackson

Me catching a few waves in between watching the toxic barge. Photo Alan Jackson

Alex and I discussing the toxic dump. I've surfed with him since 1977. He is out every morning by the pier. Photo: Alan Jackson

Riding my relatively new 6'6" Quad shaped by Jay Novak of Novak Surf Designs. Photo: Alan Jackson

Filed Under: Imperial Beach, Surfing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , ,

Got Sand? A Brief History of Sand Projects in Imperial Beach

February 16, 2011 by Leave a Comment

A boy who was almost impaled by metal dumped on Imperial Beach in 2004.

Sometime this week the Scows DS5, Harold M and Clarence D and tugs Katha C and Killeen will transport barges filled with 33,000 cubic yards of sediment dredged up from the Ballast Point Coast Guard Station in San Diego Bay by the vessel DB Palomar.

 

Rather than dump the dredge spoils that contain cadmium, lead, arsenic, mercury and polychlorinated biphenyls  (PCBs) at an existing dumpsite off of Point Loma, the toxic sediment will be placed just offshore from the terminus of Imperial Beach Boulevard in Imperial Beach. The placement of this toxic material will be carried out with the approval of the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency and the City of Imperial Beach.

The history of Imperial Beach is rife with a parade of badly executed “beach replenishment” projects that have failed to actually do much to protect our coastline. The problem of our receding shoreline is the result of the combination of sea level rise, the construction of the Rodriguez Dam, and the armoring of our coast.

Here is a brief history of the mostly unsuccessful and fatally flawed sand projects carried out by federal agencies at the urging of the City of Imperial Beach. Only one agency, SANDAG has been able to carry out a successful beach project—primarily due to its commitment to using clean large grain sand for its projects.

1976-77: The most toxic areas of South San Diego Bay are dredged and the spoils are dumped on Imperial Beach killing benthic life (e.g. sand crabs) for more than a decade. Local surfers still tell stories about the skin rashes they received from contact with the filthy sediment.

1977-1984: The Army Corps attempts to build a mile-long breakwater in Imperial Beach. The fledgling Surfrider Foundation and local surfer Jim Knox stop the project at the last minute. The breakwater would have forever destroyed surfing and wave action in most of Imperial Beach.

2000-2009: Army Corps and the City of Imperial Beach plan a $75 million long-term project involving dredging an area near the border sewage outfall pipe that was used as a WWI gunnery and bombing area. WiLDCOAST, Imperial Beach surfers, the Surfrider Foundation, Senator Tom Coburn and the Obama White House kill the project that the City of Imperial Beach spent more than $250,000 lobbying for.

2001: SANDAG carries out a project with clean sand, which helps to create great sandbars for surfing and clearly increases the size of our beach.

2004: Army Corps dredges area near the Bay Bridge. Barges then dump toxic sediment in the surf zone including thousands of rocks and pieces of garbage, dangerous rebar and metal onto beach and in surf zone. Surfers call the dump area “Toxics”. One child is almost impaled by a piece of rebar that is hidden in the surf zone. The City initially denies that the garbage and rocks are from the project. No measurable benefit to beach.

On of the thousands of shell/rock conglomerate dumped on Imperial Beach in 2004. These can still be found all over the beach.

2007: Army Corps permits the dredging of a toxic hot spot in San Diego Bay’s Shelter Island. Dredge spoils are dumped with no notice to Imperial Beach residents. Barge is initially turned away by Imperial Beach Lifeguards. The barge subsequently works in the middle of the night to avoid public scrutiny. No measurable benefit to beach.

2010: SANDAG once again proposes “best practices” sand project to be carried out in 2012 involving clean large grain sand. The agency works extensively with local surfers and stakeholders to plan the project.

Rather than focus on a coastal zone management plan that proactively seeks to enhance our coastline by addressing sea level rise, ocean pollution and beach management, unfortunately the City of Imperial Beach continues to seeks the placement of any type of “sand” on our beach, regardless of the potential threats to our children.

It will be important for the community to monitor the current project to identify any impacts and threats to public safety. In a communication on Tuesday with the EPA I wrote that, “Unfortunately during all of the San Diego Bay projects in which dirty and toxic sediment is dumped on our beach—federal agencies have either not informed local agencies at all, or involved almost minimal notification or no stakeholder involvement at all. These are examples of the worst type of coastal zone management practices.”

People go to the beach to swim in clean water.  The City of Imperial Beach should focus on reducing ocean pollution—the main deterrent to tourism—rather than  placing toxic sediment on our beaches in a misguided attempt to promote economic development.

See you in the water.

Serge Dedina is the Executive Director of WiLDCOAST and the author of Wild Sea: Eco-Wars and Surf Stories from the Coast of the Californias.

Filed Under: Imperial Beach, Surfing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Surf Mum

February 2, 2011 by Leave a Comment

My little brother Nicky, my mum, my Uncle Emile Moura and me. San Felipe 1972.

My Imperial Beach  Patch column from February 2, 2011.

My first memories are of the beach with my mother or mum. Born in London just before World War II, mum has never lost the joy of spending a day by the sea.

“For me the seaside in California was like seeing oranges on trees. It was something so out of place in my life,” she said.

My mother’s pleasure in our California coast was the result of living in London during WWII where routine German bombing raids made enjoying the seaside impossible.

“Back then many people lived in London till they died and never saw a beach. We never went to the beach during the war,” she said. “Even after the war there was barbed wire all over the beaches in Cornwall.”

dadmomwedding1

My parents on their wedding day.

“I remember during the war my father holding me while we watched an aerial dogfight between the RAF [Royal Air Force] and the Germans. My dad said, ‘Take a look at this because you won’t see this again.’”

“When the bombs came, we went to a shelter that had beds on each side. You could hear the sound of the bombers coming over and all of a sudden it stopped and everyone waited and my dad said, ‘Some other poor buggers got it.’”

The joyous routines of childhood during the Blitz often turned to tragedy. “I remember children queuing up for ice cream in our neighborhood and they all were bombed. More than 20 died.”

Later my grandmother Dolly was caught at home during when a bomb hit. “The entire house collapsed. But your grandmother hid under the portable metal bomb shelter in the dining room. My father came home from work to the rescue crews going through the house and they found her.”

Mum’s first trip to the coast was after the war.

“Pop, my sister’s father-in-law, took my sister Jill and me to the seaside in a big beautiful car. On the way there we saw castles and then Pop pulled off the road to stop. In the distance, we could see this big shimmering pool and Pop said it was the sea. We were so excited when we arrived and could make sandcastles.”

In the 1950s, my mother met my father, a French-American serviceman, in London. Later they married and ended up moving west to Los Angeles.

When I was a child during the mid to late 1960s, mother would take me to the beach to bake me in the sun. She always had a picnic basket ready with cold roast chicken, French bread, homemade mayonnaise and fresh fruit.

“We went to the beach almost everyday at either Venice, Santa Monica and Malibu,” she recalled.

My mother and my little brother Nicky at Carlsbad State Beach in the late 1960s.

“Back in those days, people used to think I was crazy to take you to the beach in the winter. But the weather in L.A. compared to England was lovely.”

When we moved to Imperial Beach in 1971, mother led our family and neighborhood children to the mouth of the Tijuana Estuary for all day picnics among the dunes. Enamored to the beauty of our backyard habitat, mother became involved in efforts to preserve it.

In 1974 our family spent a year in El Salvador. We camped at tropical beaches throughout Mexico and Central America.

“I never imaged seeing my son with a surfboard,” she said when I started surfing in 1977 at the age of thirteen.

Mum once took my friends and me for a surf trip to northern Baja in our 1964 VW Van. While we surfed K-38’s, she cooked up pancakes in the dirt parking lot.

For my proper English mother, the only downside to my surfing was that, “You and your friends sounded idiotic talking about surfing. I used to think, ‘What happened to my formerly intelligent oldest son?’”

My mother, Josephine Alexandria Fournier Dedina, retired from her career as an attorney and Judge Pro Tem a few years ago to enjoy her three grandchildren.

Me, my mother and my brother Nicky in West Hollywood before a wedding in 1979.

At the wedding of Kay Goutin in L.A. 1979.

She now has terminal cancer.

In the afternoons after work, I sit with my mum at her home near the Sloughs. We drink cups of tea and talk about when my brother and I were little and my mother opened a magical doorway to a lovely life filled with sunny beach days.

I will never forget that the best days of my life and hers were spent in the company of our family, at the seaside.

(Note my mother passed away a few weeks after I published this in February 2011).

Filed Under: Imperial Beach, Surfing Tagged With: , , , , ,
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