The Sea is for me....
In 1970, everybody was hitching a ride. None of my friends, nor I would tell our parents that we hitched, but I'd bet money that some of our parents didn't think twice about picking up a thumb's up someone on the side of the road. It was a couple of years before my legal driving age, so I had to hitch. The beach made me do it.
Like a first love, I fell hard for the ocean the summer of 1970. It was always Jones Beach, Long Island, West End II for my friends and me. The smell of ban-de-sole number 4, combined with the salt air began the seduction, but it was learning to navigate and ride the waves that took me to the point of no return. It was my friend Jan that taught me. "Keep your eyes on the waves. Study the rhythm. Watch where they break. You've got two choices. That's the tricky part. We will either dive over or swim under. It depends on the wave. Just follow what I do." And I did. For hours on end with each adventure. Right away we became like two porpoises in sync. There was no fear and I wondered if I was a sea animal in a past life.
The rest of our friends would barely dip in, spending the precious hours sun bathing. Not Jan and me. We knew what we wanted and we owned it; the magnificent ocean; until it was time to hitch home.