Christian Surfers Rely on Power of Waves to Spread the Gospel

It had been months since Stone Steps, a popular surfing spot in Encinitas, had been blessed with any respectable swells, and that had Mark Curtis worried.

Curtis and a few buddies were planning a surfing contest off the craggy stretch of shoreline, and they knew it would be a bust if the waves failed to shape up.

Desperate, they decided to turn to a friend with clout.

“We prayed that night for God to do a miracle,” recalled Curtis, head of the Christian Surfing Assn. “The next day there were some of the best waves of the year. A lifeguard told us, ‘You guys must have connections upstairs because this place hasn’t broken in over a year.’ ”

As Curtis sees it, working wonders with the help of the Lord is what the Christian Surfing Assn. is all about.

Since the organization’s inception in early 1984, Curtis and fellow members have been blending the seemingly incongruous worlds of surfing and Christianity to spread the Gospel to tousle-haired beach boys and bikini-clad sun worshipers from Malibu to the shores of San Diego.

The group sponsors 20 surfing contests a year, hitting all the hot shoreline spots in Los Angeles, San Diego and Orange counties. It publishes a monthly newsletter that includes an up-to-date point ranking of the top surfers in the organization’s events. There is even a 24-hour telephone hot line that surfers throughout Southern California can call for a recorded message announcing upcoming meets.

But this is not just another surf outfit. Mixed in with discussions of gnarly wipeouts and “getting tubular” is solemn talk of another kind--about Jesus, about forgiving sins, about the weakness of the flesh.

Indeed, these guys are not out to just ride the waves. They are into surfing for Christ.

“We’re on a mission. Our goal is to reach people,” said Donald Gaunder, an Encinitas resident who works for a firm that manufactures surf products and serves as Curtis’ right-hand man. “We just want them to know that there’s a better life out there than sex, drugs and surfing.”

The pulpit for their preaching is the beach. As befits the venue, the approach is decidedly low key.

Christian Surfer Assn.’s weekly events, which are held Saturdays between January and the end of July and generally draw about 100 participants, look like just about any other surf contest. Banners flap in the offshore breezes. Fifteen-minute heats are sent off with the blaring of an air horn. Judges score contestants on their four best rides.

But there are differences. Bibles and other literature on Christianity are available to anyone who wants them. During the daylong events, Curtis and Gaunder typically take time out from their administrative duties to approach contestants and spectators--the vast majority of whom are not evangelical Christians--to discuss the Bible or talk about their beliefs.

“I realize that these people we’re dealing with probably are not going to be found in church on Sunday, so we start each contest off with a prayer,” Curtis, 32, said. “Then it’s off and running with the surfing.

“We don’t expect to have Billy Graham-type altar calls or go through a whole candelabra service on the beach. We don’t believe you have to club people over the head with Christianity.”

Instead, Curtis feels that the most effective proselytizing comes by offering an inexpensive, well-run contest and acting as a straightforward, honest example for young, waterlogged surfers.

“Some kids may never warm up to the Christian idea, and we know that,” acknowledged Curtis, a husky man with a bushy beard and a radio pitchman’s voice. “But what we can do is give them an idea what Christianity is. That Christianity is not locked up in some dusty place with stained glass windows. That Christianity is relevant to life.

“It’s a soft sell. The hope is that when they have a time in their life when they need to turn to something, they may remember these Christian guys at a surfing contest who weren’t half bad. We’re kind of seed planting.”

The group’s genesis dates to 1983 when Curtis organized a weekly Bible study at a friend’s home on the bluffs in Leucadia for a band of about two dozen north San Diego County surfers. Dubbed the Monday Night Surf Fellowship, the group would ride the waves in the late afternoon and then spend an evening “eating munchies” and talking about the Bible, Gaunder said.

Early on, Curtis decided to hold surfing contests for members of the fellowship. These were casual affairs with other local surfers joining in.

In addition, Curtis began sponsoring Gaunder and other Christian surfers in amateur surfing contests throughout the county. Watching these other events, Curtis was struck by the participants, who seemed to let the intensity of the competition overshadow their ability to have fun.

By the end of 1983, the fellowship’s contests had become a monthly ritual. Seeing a need for a type of event that would be well-run but a bit less cutthroat than the other amateur contests, Curtis decided to form the Christian Surfing Assn. and sponsor a slate of meets.

“We didn’t know if it would fly,” Curtis recalled. “We figured not very many people would want to participate in a contest put on by something called the Christian Surfing Assn., but the opposite was true.”

The first season was a success as each meet drew a respectable showing. When Curtis was transferred to Orange County in 1985 by his employer, a hardware supply firm, he decided to expand the Christian Surfing Assn. schedule to include events in Huntington Beach, San Clemente and other coastal communities in that county. This year, the group is offering its first full slate of contests in Los Angeles County as well as events in Orange and San Diego counties.

While the group has had few problems drawing participants, its efforts to spread the faith have not always been met with open arms.

“There’s no end to the variation of reactions when I approach people to talk,” said Gaunder, 29. “I haven’t had anyone yell or scream. I think most people listen to me. I give them something to think about, and that’s what we want to do. Our job is to get the message out. Only God can draw them in.”

Curtis agreed, saying that he generally treads lightly when talking with others.

“If you were to walk up to someone on the pier in Huntington and say, ‘Hi, I’m a Christian,’ they’d tell you to get out of there,” Curtis said. “Where people gain respect for your beliefs is in watching you. They can sense the sincerity.”

While most other surfing associations stick by hard-and-fast rules during contests, the Christian Surfing Assn. will bend when it seems justified. Moreover, the group charges a $10 entry fee, which goes to pay for judges, insurance and the trophies awarded to the top six finishers in each division. That is about half what other surfing associations ask.

“If a guy misses his heat for some reason, Mark will almost always put him in another one,” Gaunder said. “You’ll never see that in contests held by other groups. And the contestants know we’re not money hungry. We’re more interested in their souls.”

In particular, Gaunder and Curtis are eager to help out the teen-agers who frequent the group’s events. For many of these youngsters, surfing is the dominant aspect of their life, according to Jon Faure, 22, a friend of Gaunder who works with young surfers at Calvary Chapel North Coast in Encinitas.

“Surfing is definitely a competitive thing with these kids,” Faure said. “If you’re a good surfer, you’re popular at school. So they work real hard at it. And a lot of the time, surfing takes the place of homework and family responsibilities.”

Many dream of becoming professional surfers and supporting themselves by displaying their radical talents on the waves during contests, Faure said. But few succeed at even making the pro circuit, let alone making a living at surfing.

“They’re used to living in the parents’ home in Carlsbad or Irvine, and they expect surfing to accommodate that life style and don’t realize it won’t,” Curtis said. “It’s sort of a bitter pill for those kids to swallow.”

Gaunder, in particular, sees a little of himself in such youths. He has surfed since age 13, spending much of that time on the vagabond edge of life--hitting the waves every day of the week, frequenting all the parties and smoking lots of marijuana. His hair is long and sun-bleached.

Then six years ago he became a “born-again” Christian. Gaunder figures that he is a lot better off for it.

“Before I became a Christian, Satan had his hand all over me,” Gaunder said. “For instance, I was in surfing just for me. Now I want the Lord to be first in my life. I don’t think God minds surfing as long as I keep him No. 1.”

Curtis, a Costa Mesa resident, does not surf. At the age of 19, he lost his right leg in an off-road motorcycle accident. During the six weeks Curtis spent in the hospital, he had a lot of time “to think about life and death.” Within a year he had devoted his life to Christ.

Since then, Curtis has devoted much of his free time to working with teen-agers, first with church youth groups and more recently with the Christian Surfing Assn. In a short time, Curtis has seen the organization grow far beyond his dreams.

Curtis admitted that he wishes the group could return more to its roots, with Bible studies and other functions a part of the overall scope of activities. But, generally, he is proud of how the Christian Surfing Assn. has matured.