That Was Just Monday

I haven’t updated the site for a week, it’s hot, raining in the desert, the Man is spraying for West Nile Virus in the hood, Baja is throwing us surf, I’m headed to work, and there are still too many videos of spongers auguring perfect waves. Nope…not bitter, I’m not bitter…seriously, I’m not bitter.  Why are you looking at me?  Okay, stick a little music in your ear and let me get back to you.

Wedge Action

Photo jacked from the amazing shooters that are: Wedge Action on FB

 

Marie Shows Up For A Date

A few impressive pictures of Marie giving the boys a go of it.  Not so easy to watch Newport Beach Lifeguards taking it on the head, repeatedly, on live TV, but I guess everything goes in these days of media-must-haves (yes, I included the link with the image).

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ANBOL

 

 

 

 

Waphaa

I know it’s not all that funny that people got hit and died from a lightening strike in Venice (Avalon doesn’t count…’cuz, well, golfer), but where are the surfer interviews from that day?  Seriously, dude, it’s time to dust off the Waphaa and talk lightening.

 

Godspeed

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There are a number of touching posts, tributes, tweets, articles, and make-shift memorials mourning the loss of Ben Carlson yesterday, July 6th, 2014—all of them for an outstanding lifeguard killed in the line of duty.  I have few words that could elevate his esteem any further amongst lifeguards, save on the nature of that duty, so please, bear with me.

I was fortunate to be bodysurfing with my dear friend, Alan Buchanan, most of the afternoon.  We had smiles on our faces and, when big sets came through, we marveled at the display of power.  So much water moving—it was loud and tumultuous, and thrilling.  Hell yes it was dangerous.

But, here’s the thing.  As we walked ourselves down the beach to jump back into the water yet again, we got to notice how great all the lifeguards looked on that day (10th, Schoolyards, 15th, 17th, Point…).  To a person, the guards were just putting on a clinic of textbook lifeguarding—standing up, anticipating sets, out early, pulling hard, and putting in time in some ugly conditions.

Hearing the bow of 5342 slam down the back side of a 12’+ set, motors growling, we paused on shore to watch Ben doing his thing, his duty, just like all the rest.  He was smiling and doing exactly what he was supposed to be doing—keeping folks safe.

I’m glad I waved to Ben and said hello to all the guards working up and down the line; glad I overheard Alan compliment several guys going to or returning from a rescue; and glad to know so many fine men and women who engender such a strong sense of duty.  Godspeed, Ben.