like your momma's hugs

Our ocean coastline is a giant embrace, hugging the big 'ol momma ocean. We always care about big momma ocean, but sometimes we don't have much thought of where the land embraces her. I'm not some old boar, some bristled and sun-spotted dude on a three inch thick board. I'm still young, and in my lifetime have been witness to tree lined coasts morph into million dollar mcmansions. I've seen haoles move from hick-ville nowherestown and lay down a hefty chunk to buy oceanfront property, then represent like they're monarchy. I've been to the most out of the way secret spots, and had to step over beer bottles and garbage bags to wet my soul in the waves. I've spat caution into the wind and sprinted through peoples lawns chased by fuck-off big dogs, saliva dripping off their fangs, screaming like a little girl. me screaming, not the dogs.
Surfers can be one of the coastal hazards as well. We all know of the places that are dodgy to leave the car. From the grumpy locals and their bars of wax and windshield art. The fact the ride is out of sight, and some punk might have a crack at it, because they don't make wallet pockets on a wetsuit. I heard someone say 'trust in god, but lock your door.' Not very deep but fair enough.
I remember one Christmas eve, some guy paddled out at a heavy locals spot and made a bit of a kook of himself. The braddahs where having none of it, birth of Christ completely out of mind. The dudes innocently smoking a spliff and talking story in the parking lot, they saw where he stashed his keys. The keys where locked in the car, tires flattened, car covered in mud and the alarm set off. So this poor joe had to come in and deal, surrounded with a crew of guys all over 200lbs breathing down his neck, and the alarm going woop woop. Yuletide doesn't mean shit if in those shoes.
Back to the coast though. I watch houses sprout like mushrooms along the ocean front and it bums me out. Not to come off as mustering a rallying cry mind you, I'm not all about living in caves and foraging, or some pseudo spiritual 'no one really owns the land man' tripper. I wouldn't mind having my own place someday, and mosquitoes and lack of flush toilets would finish me off in about 15 minutes if i lived in a cave and foraged. It's that surfers have a unique perspective. Not a cosmo lovey-lovey one, but unique in the sense that the general populace looks out to sea from land, surfers look back at land from the sea as well.
Inspired? Surfers in eastern Canada were so burnt on the idea of not being able to access the coast they didn't just sit around drinking and bitching. They do have a lot to bitch about too, it gets real cold, so having more hassles really just shits you. They posse'd up and worked on that shit. Petitioned the government, got Tom Curren to play a concert, this and that. These go-to guys managed to get the government to commit to buying piece of land for a cool quarter mil, all for the coast access and preservation. With a side benefit; if unwitting private landowners did consume all the land, they'd be seeing a steady steam of men in tight black hooded suits running by, and be fearing it was an attack of ninjas of something.