Trips to the beach....
The smell of sun tan lotion, zinc, and barbecue all conjure up wonderful memories I have of growing up and going on my family's annual vacations to the beach. Growing up in San Diego, the beach was very much a part of my life. However, as a family we would go to San Elijo beach and spend at least a week out there together. My parents had a big group of friends that would camp with us as well, and much of the time my extended family would come out and spend time.
This is me and my cousins. My cousin Brian on the left (the shorter boy), I am in the center and my cousin Karen on the right. With our families boards.
We spent the day surfing, playing in the water and the sand, laying out, cooking, reading, and playing games. We always had stocks of water balloons on hand ready for a water balloon fight. There were spickets all around the camp ground that were perfect for filling up water balloons. Everyone always got really into it. We would all run around and hide, waiting for that perfect opportunity to slam someone with a balloon. The great thing about it was that all age groups were represented there, all the kids there, parents, my brother, my aunts and uncles, and my grandparents would even stop by, though they often did not camp there with us. Through the years new members of the family would be there, my baby cousins and nieces. We also always brought other types of games to play, like paddle ball, board and card games. There was never a dull moment.
We were singing Sixties song with the radio. I am in the center and on the outsides were family friends. The daughters of my parents best friends.
My dad and his friends were surfers, they would get up early in the morning to catch the swell and be out for hours! My mom would get up and cook bacon and eggs almost every morning. She would cook the bacon first on our camping stove then cook the eggs up in the bacon fat. This is still a favorite of mine to this day even after after all these years. When I eat it, it takes me back to those carefree days at the beach.
I learned how to swim and surf in the ocean at a very early age. Of course, like most children I had to learn how to body surf, then boogie board then I was on that surf board. My dad would wade out there with me and help me grab those waves, which at the time seemed like enormous tidal waves, but as I look back at pictures, they were actually only a few feet. With all my might and short little limbs, I would paddle out on my dad’s enormous longboard surfboard and try to catch those waves. In the beginning, just riding the waves in on my stomach, then after a while I began to try and stand up! Most of the time I would wipe out but luckily always having that board attached to my ankle kept the board from going too far. Getting back on and paddling out again, only to do this over and over again. Such is life I guess. Those times on my board, even at a young age, out far off the shore, alone, sitting there, were some of my most quiet times, times to just think and ponder, a time of so much peace.
Me and my first surf board!!! I was so proud!
The camp sites themselves were actually on a cliff, you had to take a huge flight of stairs to get down to the beach itself. It was a rough beach, it had a lot of big rocks, in fact, much of the shore was rock, then sand. So finding a place to lay out wasn’t always the easiest, though I wasn’t interested in that till I was older. We played in the sand that was there, building huge sand castles and whole villages. We had special pails with the castle top built into them and little shovels. We would spend hours on them and find ways to make it so when the waves came up, we would have a mote and built in drainage. Of course when high tide came, no matter what invention we came up with, they washed down smaller and smaller till they were ant hills, and we would walk back to our camp sites defeated for the hours we spent. Of course, the next day, we would be back at it again.
Amidst the games, surfing, and sand, there would be food, naps and lots of little sunburns. Almost every picture I have of myself on these trips show me with a little red nose and zinc all over it. We had quarts of aloe vera gel on hand.
In the evenings we would spend time playing board games, eating, and sitting around the camp fire. Each family would take turns cooking the dinners for everyone, so we always had something different. We did a lot of veggies and sausage in foil over the camp fire, each pit had a small side grill that we could put them on. We had Smores every night. We would sit at the camp fire and talk and sing and just spend time enjoying life and one another. There were all different type of small local businesses around, so sometimes we would go out to eat. San Elijo is in a small town of Encinitas, California. Not a tourist town like other parts of San Diego. It was only about 35 minutes or so from our home, but still seemed like we were really getting away.
On the camp ground was a little convenience store where they sold groceries and things like that, but it also had fun trinkets. You could rent surf boards and boogie boards there too. On the outside of the store was a little food stand. They had the best food there especially, when you have been running around all day in the sun.
There was always a delightful scent in the air there, like sand, sun tan lotion, flowers (from all the flower bushes everywhere and that divided each camp site) and salty sea water. In the spring there would be blooming star of jasmine that filled the air, in the summer there would always be the smell of watermelon, strawberries and oranges. I have tried in my years here in Arizona to find candles, perfumes etc to replicate that smell, but alas, no such thing is available. Part of that smell encompasses so much more then just scents mingled in the air, it is all memories and feelings. Feelings of being young and playing, enjoying life. Still when I smell certain things, sun tan lotion or salt water and sand, those feelings surround me and remind me of those days. I have bought sound machines to replicate falling asleep to the waves, however, no sound machine can duplicate the intricacies of that sound. There is so much going on in nature. The hard crash of the water and sometimes aggressive pull back of the wave, but sometimes it was softer and more delicate. Those sounds and smells surround and embrace you while you are there. Unfortunately, when you leave, they just become a memory that you cannot re-create.
I don't think I have one solid memory that was my favorite in all the years we had this trip. My memory is of more of a collection of moments. The time with my family and the time we spent together playing games and laughing. We laughed a lot. In my immediate family of my parents, my brother and I, we would play a game called "make me laugh". I am not sure where this game originated, but my brother and dad were champions at it, they could always make my mom and I laugh, by barely doing anything at all. Generally it would be faces or poses that they would do. I was blessed to grow up in a family were humor is a part of life. When we would play anything at all, or just sit around at our camp tables, we would just talk and laugh. Those memories fill my heart. My spirit and soul are filled with memories and philosophical lessons learned at the beach. I don't know how the tradition started. My parents were both raised in Southern California and my dad was a surfer for most of his life. I think the beach just permeated their lives. The trips probably just sounded like a good idea one year then it became ongoing.
It was there that I believe I developed my love for the ocean. Sitting and just being present in my own mind was something I learned there. When you are looking at the ocean, it is hard not to be in a state of awe and that would typically take me inward, even at a young age.
These were some of the best times in my life. No matter what was going on before or after our beach trip, our week at the beach was special. I look back so fondly. I intend on repeating those trips with my family someday. I want my children (if I ever have any), to have those experiences, those totally carefree days. I want them to understand the power and beauty of the vast ocean. These were good days. It has been many years since I have been back to those camp sites, but long for the days to take my own family there and continue the tradition. While I can not relive my childhood, I look forward to bringing new people into it, just as it was when I was young. I want my children to have these same experiences and I want my dad to teach them how to surf. I want their childhood to be brimming with fun, laughter, learning and just being children, just like I had. The beach and our trips their embodies this, these were my best times and live strongly in my mind and heart.
My family
