Man, that was a quick 20 years. Seems like only weeks ago I was speaking to Robert Wald in front of his home/office in Cardiff on Chesterfield Drive. This was just prior to the area being mowed down by tasteless yuppies eager to homogenize our beautiful community for a buck. Don’t get me started.
Back to Rob. He and I had been friends since the late ’70s when he operated a lobster skiff alongside his mentor, the late Tommy Lewis. (Lewis, if you don’t know, was the legendary surfer/fisherman/waterman who often brought many of us to our feet when catching 6-foot waves at George’s in his purple skiff. After that, he would sell his fresh catch on the beach for a few dollars.)
Wald and Lewis were tightly linked as members of a hardcore and disappearing tribe. While Lewis continued fishing, Wald pursued another love of his — photography. He first gained fame after snapping that famous duotone shot of Stan Lewis (Tommy’s father) in mortal combat with the sea. Other archival photos of Wald’s include the Seaside Trailer Park, various surfers, local portraits “The Last of the Dorymen,” a recent exhibit where his work was featured in a one-man show at the Encinitas Library.
Being a lifelong surfer and onetime commercial fisherman, Wald is uniquely qualified to tell the stories of those of us whose lives have been spent in or near the ocean. Rob and I spent long hours exchanging surf stories of fun, glassy surf to those rare days when waves were so big, they blocked out the sun.
I was out of my league when he told of fishermen in tiny skiffs landing fish that nearly sank their boats. These tales had been stored exclusively in the vault of Wald’s mind for decades before he put them down in a tabloid the locals know and love as The Ocean Magazine.
At the time of our aforementioned meeting in Cardiff, I was also at the genesis of helping launch a new magazine called Risen, where we interviewed celebrities on their spirituality. Rob and I wished each other luck and, after a few months of putting our heads down and straining our eyeballs to the point of bleeding, we compared our beautiful babies. Exciting times!
Over the years, The Ocean Magazine has chronicled surfers like Carl and Woody Ekstrom, Hot Curl creator Mike Dormer, Hawaiian George Downing, big wave legend Buzzy Trent, psychedelic art leader/surfer Rick Griffin, and countless other surfers, musicians and artists.
The magazine was a hit from the beginning, and, while a one-man band, continues being an authoritative force keeping our community stoked and anchored to its roots. This is an aquatic truck stop where older surfers relive their glory days and younger surfers discover their rich heritage, often for the first time.
As someone willing to live and die on the hill of the printed word, I speak not only for The Ocean Magazine, but for everyone typing their lives away into the pursuit of truth and beauty.
Those involved in print media know these are tough times. It is doubtful that our readers look behind the curtain long enough to realize that. But think about it: Without trained humans who live, die, laugh, and cry, and are willing to go out into the world and record the horrors and beauties of daily life, where would we be?
While the newspapers I speak of are free, a subscription, which costs pennies a day, ensures they will arrive in your mailbox at each printing. And, a mere few hundred bucks buys an ad seen by thousands of your customers.
Don’t allow print media in our neighborhood to go the way of Cardiff’s dorymen. You will only miss it when it’s gone.
