Who had surfing parents?

My dad definitely understood my attraction to surfing. Maybe he wanted to try it, but it didnt fit in with his snooty social status...tennis at the country club did, though, so that's what he participated in.

He occasionally did business in costa rica and took me along a few times. Everyone he associated with over there were major alcoholics, so those trips went from what coulda been epic to kinda wierd with some fun tropical surf sessions thrown in.

 

lake Ontario...wourde

so not at all

 

My dad briefly surfed in a very kooky fashion when he was younger. But he put me on a soft top when I was 6-8 I can't remember for sure. My 4th Christmas I got a skateboard and was inseparable from it until I got old enough to really feel all the impact surfacing in my joints and bones. Mom wouldn't let me surf by myself until I was 10 but she loved the ocean and body surfing/boogie. Deffinatelt influenced by my parents to love and respect the ocean.

 

Nope , nobody in my family surfed. Not one. I am a mutant.
And didn't start until age 60. Go figure.

beachbreak: that's very sad about your dad. Sounds like maybe he was a damaged man. All that he lost because he wanted you to be him. Good for you not giving up your surfing passion.

 

Nope. Actually taught my dad to surf when he retired so now he is always out on his LB.

 

that's some funny sh1t,my buddys daughter who lives in Oregon married some surfer hulk dude lol.guy would beat up her father and me at the same time lol.he showed me a ton of pix of the dude surfing 15' waves a quarter mile out to sea,dudes the real deal.and hes a nurse.considering her father works with me id say she done pretty well for herself lol

 

I did take my daughter out surfing at Rincon (Marias), when she was 16.

She paddles out, turns around, looks at me...at says,"Wow...it is awesome out here looking back at the beach".

 

it is

 

Really cool read in this thread. I enjoyed some of the stories, but feel bad about some of the unsupportive dad's like Archy and Beachbreak.

My parents didn't surf. My dad rode dirt bikes when he was younger. He still had one when he was in his early 30's and got me my first when I was 10. He didn't seriously ride the way he used to, with 4 kids and being catastrophic to our financial situation if he were to get hurt on it. He was basically a stoner dude.

He did mention multiple times throughout his life that he was bummed he never got into surfing and even surprised that he never got into it, as a kid at his Summer home in Ormond Beach.

 

My parents didn't surf but loved the beach and everything about it which enabled me to spend a lot of time there. Me and my brothers and sister where lightly supervised and left to make our own choices. I love them very much for raising me to make my own path in life and to live with the choices I make. They have always supported us in our lives. So maybe in some way they where surfing parents; they are definitely free thinkers.

 

funny how most of our parents did not surf but not true for our kids. brings me great pride to know my kids father not only surfs but taught the boy everything he knows about the water. I actually let him use the boat on his own at 16 (my pops didn't let me take it out on my own until I was 25. granted I acted like a dipchit so he was not wrong. I prolly would've sunk it)

 

I got to say, i love how my mom treated me as a young kid teaching myself to surf. She told me what surf etiquette was and basically told me if i screw up out there i deserve whatever i get. Because of this i would walk way down the beach away from everyone. She wouldn't follow. She never tried to keep me on a leash. Would just pop up and look through her binoculars every once in awhile to make sure i was still there. She never tried to hold me back if it was big. She just let me do my thing. If she wasn't like that. If she tried and told me where i could surf and all that, I'm not sure if i would of kept with it.

This actually reminds me of somthing funny. So that was my mom. Drunk stoner letting me run off and do whatever i wanted in the ocean. Well a few times i went to the beach with my friend and his mom. His mom was CRAZY protective. If she had to get up to go to the bathroom, we had to follow. Because apparently we couldn't be left alone for 5 min. We weren't allowed in water deeper than our waist. So basically everything i could do with my mom i couldn't with her. So i would sneak away and go body surf or grab a body board and go do my thing. She would freak out. Bring me home and tell my mom i was bad and went out in deep water with the surfers blah blah blah. The second my mom closed the door on this broad she would turn to me and be like "so how were the waves?"

 

Nice.^^^ That made me smile.

 

My Grandpa, on my Mom's side, was a real southern outdoorsman. He taught me to fish, and to love the ocean, and encouraged me to swim long distances (back then a few hundred yards) in the open ocean, and to body surf.
So I had that going for me. We were kindred spirits in many ways. Back when WPB, FL was a booming town in the 1920's, they would set up a boxing ring in the center of downtown (Clematis Street), and he and his buddy's would duke it out. There wasn't TV back then, so they had to entertain themselves somehow.. He taught me the peek-a-boo stance, and how not to telegraph a punch. My Dad was too busy working on weekends at my Grandpa's grocery store to take me to the beach.

 

Thats an awesome story.

My friends mom, the one who would bring us to the beach everyday let us do our thing... unless it was big. Big means chest high on up. She would pick a rock on the jetty and say we couldn't go out further than that. Well that rock was right at the impact zone of the incoming sets, somehow she didn't understand it might be safer to let us get to the outside. One day I got tired of the whole thing and proned in but my buddy said fvck it and paddled outside. I was all excited, 12 years old and my buddy was out with the big boys. Once his mother realized where he was she ran out on the rocks yelling at the top of her lungs at the kid. Everyone one in the lineup was laughing and their girlfriends and other surfers taking rest on the beach were riveted by the whole scene. My buddy, completely embarrassed paddles for the first wave that comes gets pile driven over the falls and slammed in front of this whole audience. The moan from the water and the beach was awesome. He then gets hit two more times by set waves before washing up on the sand like a shiny freshly buttered turkey. He layed there for 15 minutes until the attention died down then scurried up into dunes, to ashamed to return. I'm not sure why but seeing a buddy get ripped like that and survive is really funny. PS: he loves this memory today just like I do.

 

True. Thank you. He was a pro baseball player. I was born to be the next bob feller. And go to west point.

But i turned out ok. Wife, family, career, the retirement plans... And my son is a west point grad.

 

Classic!

 

My parents didn't surf but they did not discourage it either. My Dad was a fisherman and my mom loved the beach. Like Bassmon, we were given plenty of freedom to explore and find our own way, our own interests. My Pops taught me how to fish and hunt and to be respectful of nature and the ocean. But he never forced me to fish or hunt. I wanted to be like him.
He taught me to rely on no man but myself for things I needed or wanted. I had two older cousins who surfed. They were awesome. Quintessential late 60s/early 70s beach bums. I took heaps of abuse and multiple azz kickings, but I learned my place and learned that respect was earned.
I still remember the excitement, the nervousness, on those days where I paddled out with the older guys. I was maybe 12 years old and guys were out there with Fu Manchu moustaches and beards, Marin Corps tats, and beat up old boards. Vietnam vets, battle scarred. All I wanted to do was make that wave. Do NOT screw up in front of these guys.