It’s pretty simple – my dad is my hero. And the guy can’t swim. “Big Jim” was born in Santa Cruz and grew up on Floral Drive. His dad was a Navy Fighter pilot and quite a waterman. Even though Big Jim wasn’t following in his father’s footsteps by getting in the water, he would walk to the end of the block every day to watch the surfers.
To this day, I still see him pause and admire the ocean and its beauty in a way that only surfers do. I’ve seen that look my whole life. I wanted to experience firsthand what he was seeing, what was so magical about the water. So even though he didn’t get me on a board – I grabbed one and taught myself – I credit that far off, day-dreaming gaze for being my original surf instructor.
Now I know where that look comes from. Whether it’s a cold foggy day in the Bay Area or a beautiful sunny day in Costa Rica, I am ready to get in the water. And I never paddle out alone. Big Jim and I have surfed every session together since that first day in 1987 at Laguna Beach.
Who knows? One of these days I might actually get him in the water.