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The Johnny Appleseed Surf Tour…Part 2 Remember the Eastern surf scene was
in it's infancy, with most surf shops ordering their equipment from California
and most of the surfers trying to learn a very difficult sport from watching
movies and looking at pics in surf mags. The summer of '66 was the first real
meeting of California surfers and the surfers who rode the Atlantic. I can't
talk for the other guys that made this trip, but I had one of the best surf So, if you will recall I had an auspicious first day at Monmouth Beach, New Jersey. I spent the next couple of days getting acquainted with the people at the surf shop there in Monmouth and hooked up with two brothers who were the best surfers in the area and rode for the shop. They became my official guides .........from N.J. to New Hampshire and then down to Virginia Beach. And don't get me wrong.......this summer was a two way street as far as learning goes.....One of the first things I learned was that New Jersey had these places called package stores. You get out of the water, go to the package store and they say "what'll it be". Unbelievable!!! In California you had to wait outside a liquor store for the right connection to beg from.............in New Jersey, "what'll it be". Needless to say the icebox (literal) in the old van had cold ones for most of the trip. I had some time to kill before the first real contest at Seaside Heights, New Jersey. The bros and I spent a few days hitting beaches heading toward south Jersey. I had space for two boards inside, above the passenger and driver's heads and younger bros board went on top. Three guys, eight boards and nothing to do but surfari. The search for waves. Nothing really stood out though............mostly small, choppy wind waves. But we did catch a place called Belmar (or Belmont, I not really sure) that had a small little point break that was probably the best wave I saw in all of NJ. This place was breaking a solid four feet, sometimes five, but just perfect, wave after wave of noserides. I'm talking' 10-second noserides. Hours of noserides. Just the three of us out with a crowd of about a hundred onlookers. This wave reminded me of Secos on a good day or Meepees, which was just north of Doheny. There was a contest in Rhode Island and one in New Hampshire before Seaside Heights. My guides decided that NH was the better road trip, plus they wanted to see an old friend in Boston on the way back.......so we headed north. Beautiful country, marred only by places in the highway where uniformed bandits demanded your money. We got to Hampton Beach the afternoon before the contest. I may be wrong, but I think this was the first annual NH Open.............it was like Easter Week at Balboa, complete with little amusement park. The bros knew someone that led to us going to a pre surf contest Potty. I pawked my Caw and we went into the Potty. After a couple of hours I reached my teaching best............I told the owners of the party that in California all our surfing parties were underwear parties.........you know........Guys and girls in boxers and other states of undress. These guys and girls lapped this up, learning the intricacies right away and were going strong when I staggered out to my van to rest for the morn's event. About an hour later the Hampton Police rousted me from my slumber to thank me for introducing my heathen culture to their local children. Some underwear-clad lass had fingered the white bus with the Calif. plates. I tried heartily to explain the grande underwear tradition from the West............they apparently figured I 'd be less trouble if they didn't book me and told me to go back to sleep. Once again, I'm claiming another possible first......................NH pre-contest underwear parties. The contest itself was a gala affair, missed only by the appearance of significant waves. Very small ......and the coldest water I had EVER surfed in. Aching cold........in summer. I was paddling with just the tips of my fingers. I was able to utilize the nose on a few waves and developed a knee paddle spinner that I never had tried before, but worked perfect in the small surf. Knee paddling into a wave, pause, spin 360 degrees on your knees, one more stroke and up on the wave. A simple new trick...........one I would learn to regret. But in this case I won the contest and older bro got third. So NH gave me a trophy...............I gave NH some surf tips and underwear parties. We headed back South............by way of Boston. No surf tale here. We found this guy's apartment in this extremely seedy city...............everyone's in mourning because Dylan just had his motorcycle accident. Lights are dimmed, Dylan's on the hifi, the room is full of blue smoke and...................."there was something' going' on and you don't know what it is, do you Mr. Jones". I'd never even smoked a cigarette, nor did I smoke that night, but the trip back to NJ was awash with giggles. That was my first brush with herbal therapy. Definitely a trip of many lessons. Our last mini road trip before Seaside Heights was to Jones Beach on Long Island. The surf there was actually slightly overhead, but stormy, bumpy, wind blown, mushy and otherwise terrible. I surfed about a half hour and said screw it. But still upon getting out we had a great pow-wow with the locals standing around this fire in a barrel for hours. I got to see Coney Island. Next stop.........the California teams meet up with the best from the East at Seaside Heights.
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