Page 40 of Cry Havoc
Tom and Quinn sat on a wooden bench, their backs resting against a table made from a plank of scrap plywood, looking out to sea.
“How you guys doin’?” asked a man approaching in red shorts and flip-flops. He had the toned body of a swimmer and blond uncombed hair well out of military regulations.
“Better now,” Tom said.
“Rough night?”
“From what I remember.”
“Well, welcome to China Beach. You here on R&R?”
“Actually, we are. Unexpected R&R.”
“Hey, take what you can get. I got boards over there if you are interested. Quiet day today. A bit closed out,” he said, looking at the swells.
“Sharks out there?” Quinn asked.
“Hell, man, sharks for sure, barracudas bigger than me, but I’d be more worried about sea snakes.”
“Sea snakes?”
“Yeah, lethal. Craig Vente, Navy corpsman, caught one when it brushed his leg the other day. He grabbed it by the back of the head and surfed in with it. Killed it on the beach with a piece of driftwood. We skinned it and grilled it up. With a little salt and pepper, it tasted like chicken. The skin’s over there,” he said, pointing to a dried snakeskin nailed to the wall of the surf shack.
“You work here?” Tom asked.
“Yeah, I was a Navy storekeeper, but when they found out I could surf they assigned me here to help the lifeguards. Too many soldiers getting drunk and almost drowning. Getting blown up by Charlie is one thing in the ’Nam, but no one wants to write that letter to parents saying their kid died drunk at the beach. So I built the surf shack, got a grill, and set up shop.”
“I should have joined the Navy,” Quinn said, taking a sip of his beer.
“Bruce Blandy shaped that one on the far right,” the man said, pointing to a large board leaning against the far side of the shack. “He built himself a shop in an abandoned amphibious landing vehicle to make boards out of whatever he could scrounge. He’s gotten creative. Jerry Shine smuggled another in from Hawaii. He almost went to mast for it.”
“You have quite the assortment,” Tom said, turning to eye the boards.
“It’s not bad for ’Nam. Have a couple Hobie’s and a Dextra shaped by Dale Velzy. Those are popular. Got a Bing and Rick board over there too.”
“Rick Stoner?” Tom asked.
“Yeah, you know him?”
“I worked for White Owl Surf Shop in Santa Barbara to help pay for school. Learned about blowing blanks, glassing, glossing, shaping. Wasn’t much in the way of board shapers on the central coast, so I’d drive south on long weekends. A buddy at Owls hooked me up with Stoner, who had started Rick’s Surfboards in Hermosa while working as a lifeguard. Velzy taught him how to shape boards in the fifties.”
“Yeah, man, Stoner’s a legend. He and Bing Copeland enlisted in the Coast Guard to get stationed in Hawaii so they could surf. They sure pulled one over on Uncle Sam.”
“He told me about that,” Tom said, smiling at the memory.
“Who knows how many people he plucked from the surf as an LA County lifeguard. A true waterman.”
“With what he taught me, I started shaping boards in my dorm room.That didn’t go over well with the other residents, so I got a small place on the beach and started shaping in my garage.”
“Everyone shaping today owes a debt of gratitude to Stoner,” the surfer acknowledged.
“The most generous man I’ve ever met,” Tom said. “Taught me so much about the sea.”
“How’s he doing?” the man asked.
“Last I saw, he, his family, and business were all doing great. Met his son before I enlisted. Mike. That kid was on a board before his second birthday. Hope to get back to Hermosa after the war. Rick would love to hear about this place.”
“We’ve got his Barry Kanaiaupuni model right over there.”
