FRONTIER JUSTICE

By: Pat Steele

Crowded day at Seaside

I decided a long time ago I didn’t want to live my life being angry. I wish I had come to this conclusion on my own but I am not that self-aware.

I was at stale point in my life and went to a seminar. The one topic that stuck was anger. The clear message was that anger is more destructive to yourself than the intended recipient. There are still incidents that make me boil, for instance an arrow showing a lane closure up ahead. Polite and patient people wait their turn while arrogant idiots go around and cut in line extending the wait time. Sounds trivial but it’s not!! Okay breathe in through the nose out through the mouth.

That’s better, whew.

I have friends that have moved here from other states that would like to take up surfing. They are surprised when I tell them surfers aren’t that friendly in the water and very territorial. There are all sorts of unwritten rules that have to be adhered to. There are confrontations and even fistfights. Hawaii being the most notorious for physical incidents. I have always avoided the most crowded surf spots which of course have the best waves. I would rather take an inferior wave with less hassles.

For a decade I rode a reef break that wasn’t visible from the highway. It was rarely crowded and could actually, under the right conditions, get really good. Eventually the crowd started filling in and my wave count diminished. I moved to another reef break and after a few years the same thing happened. I eventually ended up at a fickle break that took awhile to figure out regarding tides and swells. Slowly I was joined by a group that also wanted to avoid crowds. We developed a novel relationship of wave sharing. There was communication on splitting the peak which meant more waves for everyone. The wave was steep enough to discourage beginners. This is where I was going to make my last stand.

One summer day the surf was a pitiful one foot but I wanted to get wet. I paddled out on a longboard. There was a new guy out that was only riding the lefts. I gave him a nod and he gave me the stink eye. Whatever. He could have the lefts, I’ll go right. I paddled into my first wave when stink eye boy started yelling, ‘Going right!’. Really?! Okay I’ll ride the left. Stink eye now claimed the left. Rather than get angry over waves of no consequence I just ignored him.

A few days later when the surf was good, I was in the lineup with my usual crew when Mr. Stink Eye paddled out. ‘Who’s that guy?’ I asked. My buddy pointed at him and said, ‘You mean Pugsley?’ ‘His name is Pugsley?’ ‘That’s what we named him because of his frowny face.’ Pugsley made his presence felt by being a hog which broke down our fragile etiquette of polite wave sharing. Now we were like every other break, every man for himself. Paddle battles for position. Heated words.

It wasn’t long before we all had incidents with Pugsley. His insistence on taking every wave and rude behavior started wearing his welcome very thin. I once was going down the stairs as he was coming up. My better angels decided on giving him a chance for civility. I made eye contact and said, ‘Howzit?’. He walked by me and a stink eye was his only acknowledgement. I barely contained my dark angel from calling him out as a rude, ignorant @%&!?. That was my last attempt and I just accepted the reality that he was an idiot.

Weekends with a new swell and good weather every break hits overflow, including ours. The waves were too good for me to be deterred by the crowd. I immediately spotted Pugsley on his longboard which he rides so he can cherry pick the best set waves. He took waves like he was the only one out, paddling his longboard past the rest of us on shortboards. After a wave, I was paddling back out and noticed Pugsley and a shortboarder bumping rails on an inside section. When they kicked out I recognized the shortboarder as one of my younger son’s friends James. Pugsley and James had words all the way back to the lineup. The crowd sat silent as Pugsley unleashed a tirade of profanities. James said, ‘Enough! I apologized it’s over! I’m warning you no more!’ Pugsley didn’t hesitate and continued his loud epitaphs. ‘I warned you!’ and with that James launched himself off his board and knocked Pugsley off his board. When they surfaced James had Pugsley in a headlock from behind and held him underwater. We all watched intently as the seconds ticked off with Pugsley submerged. It was hard to tell how long it was but somebody called out, ‘You’re going to drown him.’ Somebody else said, ‘Let him up.’ James released him and he came up coughing and sputtering. He climbed back on his board croaking incoherently as he paddled away. I personally felt he had reaped what he had sown. Not often you see the bully with his tail between his legs.

Ironically Pugsley never returned. Good riddance.

Years later I saw him paddle by on a stand up. In surfing there is no way of controlling rude and selfish behavior other than taking matters into your own hands. Moral? Chill out, we’re all trying to catch a wave and enjoy our gift of surfing. If you see a line of cars waiting patiently with a lane closure up ahead don’t be a dick.