When I was a little kid, growing up and learning to surf, I lived in Surfside Colony, a small private beach community just south of Seal Beach and bordering Sunset Beach.
Back then the houses were small and wooden, you almost have to call them “shacks.” But honestly they were probably one small step above that. My parents bought our house, B-21, for $2,100. It was the early 1950s. Later we got a bigger one, B-44, for $4,400.
One of my best pals back then was a kid who lived up the street from us, closer to the jetty. He was a year or so older than me, his name was Steve Rowe. He had an older brother, Ron, and a sister my age, Tina.
Both Ron and Steve surfed. Ron was actually very good, while Steve and I were learning. We spent a lot of time together riding whatever stray watery peak that we could find up and down our little stretch of beach. My first trip to Rincon, near Santa Barbara was with the brothers in Ron’s red Woody.
Steve recently passed away, having spent his entire life living in Surfside. He was a really good guy and excellent surfer. So, today I want to tell you a few good memories I have from our surfing childhood together.
The first time I ever had my name in SURFER magazine was in the Photos from the Readers section. It was a shot I took with my mom’s old “box” camera of Steve from the Huntington Beach Pier. We are thrilled to have our names in print.
When Steve was about 15, he got his own Ford Woody Wagon. He could only drive it inside of Surfside because he was too young to get his driver’s license. So, he would come pick me up and we would drive down to surf at the “Water Tower.”
This was all of about 200 yards from my house, 400 yards from his. But to us we were “on safari to stay.” Sometimes we would do a lap or two up and down the street just to be “cool.”
At one point, Steve got a bad ear infection. In order to surf he had to wear ear plugs and a white girls bathing cap…
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