Let me take you back to those thrilling days of yesteryear... 1965, to be exact. It was summer and I was staying with my sister and her 4th husband (there would be 4 more, in time) on Merritt Island. In a few short months I would be in the Navy and off to California. My sister's husband worked at Cape Kennedy as a firefighter and/or mechanic (I never knew for sure which... he was proficient as both).
Canaveral Pier was 10 minutes away and a favored surfing spot for me and my friends, both ones there and from my old turf in south Florida. One of the attractions was the music over the loudspeakers on the pier; it filled the air and could be heard on the beach and in the water. Loud enough to hear over the sounds of the waves breaking.
One of my strongest memories of those days was riding my board on a decent day of 3 foot or so waves, listening to the music and getting lost in it all; the sun's warmth, the cooler water, and the motion of the waves. I was fairly proficient by then and comfortable with maneuvering the board, my balance (that's gone now), and just the feeling of power and control. I would catch a wave, cut to the left, away from the pier... my back to the wave, walk forward on the board to the nose and perch there as the board slid across the face of the wave. Then I would step back a little and cut back toward the pier, daring myself to get as close to the pilings holding the pier up and wondering if I had the nerve to cut through them to the other side of the pier. I never did.
Walking back to the nose, I would do my best "Phil Edwards " imitation and all the while listening to the Rolling Stones playing "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" as the pilings grew larger and larger before me. And now it is just distant memory but I can still feel the warmth of the sun, the smell of the salt water, and feel the mist spraying in my face.
No comments:
Post a Comment