Senior Moments by
Charles P. Eberson
Have you ever experienced a smell or an aroma which triggered a memory from your past? If I pass by the open door of a beauty salon, I am transported back to the time spent at my father’s salon in Margate. The strong smell of onions from a sub shop reminds me of working at the Margate Sub shop so I could spend time with my future wife. What I was unprepared for, occurred on a walk to the boardwalk. The smell of fiberglass and resin wafted across me from a home having some repairs done. It is a unique scent that one does not come across very often during the course of a normal day. I was immediately transported back to1966 when I was sixteen and small privately owned surf shops dotted our area. That smell of resin from surfboard repairs would hit you as soon as you entered the store. It was a time when the shops were stocked more with surfboards and bathing suits than accessories. Shops that came to mind was Curcio’s near the old Atlantic City High School, Reef Surf shop in Margate and Surfer’s Supply in Ocean City. Sometimes it was worth the trip to Ocean City for just a bar of wax to share time with the quirky owner, George who always made you feel as if you were friends all your life. 1966 was when the iconic surfing movie Endless Summer hit the theaters and it was the start of the surfing boom. By today’s standards, the movie was pretty amateurish. It was a travelogue about surfers traveling the globe searching for the perfect wave. There was no dialogue, just narration and a soundtrack that became synonymous with surfing. Then there were the Beach Boys, their music and their surfing vibe. It was the perfect storm. My friend had his cousin in from out of town. He was a blond hair, blue eyes 14 year old who surfed. We went to see Endless Summer together and the next day my friend and I bought surfboards. There were no surfing lessons back then nor surfing camps. We learned by trial and error; lots of errors. Going “over the falls” or “pearling” when the nose dug in launching the surfer forward and the board into the air was the most humiliating. These boards were over nine feet long and heavy. There were also no leashes. On a big day, is was frustrating to wipeout far from the beach and see your board wash all the way in. We became proficient swimmers out of necessity. It was not just the surfing that appealed to us but also the “surfer’s life” as we imagined it. We spent the weekend living and sleeping in my friend’s dank basement near the beach which by today’s standards was probably rife with mold. In that basement, we relived the day’s surfing experiences trying to one-up each other about the best rides and the worst wipeouts. In the morning, we would stick the boards in the back of the convertible and cruise Absecon Island for our perfect wave. It did not matter if the wave was not found. Inevitably, what we did find were more stories to share in that Ventnor basement.
Charles Eberson has been in the newspaper business for over 25 years. He has worked as a writer, advertising executive, circulation manager and photographer. His photography can be viewed at charles-eberson.fineartamerica.com
