But Surfers Sour : ‘Pillbox’ Beach Target of New Name Campaign

Quite simply, Clinton Prowse was irked.

The longtime Solana Beach resident was thumbing through a local newspaper one day recently when he came across an article that referred to the community’s main beach by its immemorial nickname--Pillbox. Not once, mind you, but twice.

What bothered Prowse, who has owned a clapboard beach house since 1961 atop a seaside bluff overlooking the Pacific, was the nickname’s connotation. To him, it seemed to suggest that Solana Beach’s prime municipal jewel was little more than a haven for drugged-out beach bums.

“I’ve heard it called Pillbox before, but seeing it in the newspaper, well, that bothered me,” admitted Prowse, 77. “Calling our nice beach park the Pillbox just doesn’t seem good for the community.”

With that in mind, Prowse did what any solid citizen does--he complained to City Hall. And it worked. The Solana Beach City Council, agreeing the nickname could be misconstrued, decided last month to hold a community contest to pick another name for the beach.

Not everyone, however, is pleased with the proposal to stamp Pillbox with a new moniker.

Nothing to Do With Drugs

Take, for instance, Larry Robertson. A 17-year-old Escondido resident, Robertson makes a pilgrimage to Pillbox every day of the year to surf, rain or shine, winter and summer. Holding a hot pink and yellow surfboard as the waves lapped at his feet, Robertson made it clear what he felt.

“I think it’s B.S.,” said Robertson, a tousle-haired blond who wears a fake diamond earring. “I mean, it’s just a name. I don’t think it has anything to do with drugs.”

His buddy, Carlos Gomez, agreed. “Even if they do change it, we’ll still call it Pillbox,” said Gomez, 18. “It’s been that way for so long. It’s Pillbox.”

Indeed, the nickname for the beach, at the foot of Lomas Santa Fe Drive in the heart of Solana Beach, dates back several decades, according to history buffs.

Although officially named Solana Beach Park, it began being called Pillbox by locals soon after a smooth, concrete seawall was constructed to support the main lifeguard tower and protect the bluffs that straddle the entryway to the stretch of sand. The edifice looked much like a military pillbox, hence the nickname.

In recent years, the ravages of the ocean have torn away huge chunks of the seawall, prompting relocation of the lifeguard station. And while the sea was destroying the very structure that spawned the beach’s name, a new activity began to occur at Pillbox that gave new meaning to the term.

Like other popular beaches up and down the coast, Pillbox became a hangout for drug dealers making small-time transactions with the beach crowd during the 1960s, ‘70s and into the ‘80s.

Councilwoman Celine Olson recalled seeing such drug dealing while she worked as a volunteer for a local womens’ civic club selling T-shirts and towels at the beach’s parking lot. Olson said she would watch in disbelief as bathing-suit clad teen-agers purchased marijuana and other illegal drugs in broad daylight.

The problems at the beach were only exacerbated, she said, by clumps of teen-agers and young adults who made a habit of drinking beer and other liquor around the picnic tables that line a grassy strip just above the beach.

These days, however, such activities are more the exception than the rule, primarily due to tougher enforcement by the Sheriff’s Department and a strict ban on consumption of alcohol approved about six months ago by the City Council, Olson said.

Spiffier Image Noted

With that spiffier image, Olson wouldn’t mind seeing the beach tagged with a new, more palatable name. But she acknowledged that it may take some doing.

“I really don’t know if we’ll ever be able to get rid of the nickname,” Olson said. “It’ll take someone thinking of a new, catchy name that’s just as interesting as one that they’re used to using.”

Since details of the contest have yet to be hammered out, few potential nicknames have surfaced. One local wag, however, has suggested the beach be called “Phootalomas,” playing on the fact that the sand begins at the foot of Lomas Santa Fe Drive.

Would Honor Fletcher

Prowse, meanwhile, is pushing for the city to name the shoreline park after Col. Ed Fletcher, who, among other accomplishments, founded the first bank in Solana Beach and laid out the city’s main plaza.

Fletcher also played a key role in development of the beach that came to be known as Pillbox. Prior to Fletcher’s day, there was virtually no access to the beach because of the steep bluffs lining the water. Fletcher, however, made arrangements in the early 1920s to borrow water from Lake Hodges and hired a workman to spend three months with a hydraulic-pressure hose blasting a wide swath in the bluffs, forming a pathway to the sand.

Although Fletcher’s accomplishments were significant, some city officials question whether the name “Fletcher Beach” would ever really catch on.

“I just don’t think that would be too popular with the younger set,” said Jane Pogeler, chairwoman of the city’s Parks and Recreation Committee.

Pogeler said the dispute over the beach’s name seems to divide the generations. “The older set thinks it’s a scandal that the beach is called Pillbox and the younger people think it’s a tempest in a teapot,” she said.

Indeed, several young beachgoers just can’t understand why the city fathers are making such a big deal about the name.

Just a few miles up the coast, after all, officials in Encinitas are on the verge of officially changing the name of Sea Cliff Park to its long-standing nickname, Swami’s. Locals gave it that name years ago because the popular surfing spot is located next to the Self-Realization Fellowship, an adobe-walled complex that has preached Eastern philosophies of yoga and meditation since the 1930s.

Andrew O’Leary, director of Solana Beach’s Department of Marine Safety, noted that such nicknames are commonplace for beaches in the area. Seaside Gardens Park in Encinitas, for example, is commonly known as Stone Steps. Just up the coast, Leucadia State Beach is almost invariably referred to simply as Beacon’s.

Old Names Hard to Buck

Such nicknames, O’Leary said, are hard to buck. And that will likely be the case with Pillbox, he said.

“I’ll be honest with you,” O’Leary said. “I support a name change. If the community wants a new name for the beach, they should get it. But I really don’t think that’s going to change what some people will call it. People are going to do what they want to do.”

Nicole Rose, 17, agreed. An employee at a Solana Beach surf shop, Rose hangs out mostly with surfers.

“They’re not going to start just calling it some other name because some older people want to change it,” Rose said.

She doubts, however, that the proposal to do away with the nickname Pillbox will prompt a phalanx of sand-caked surfers to descend on City Hall.

“I don’t think we’ll make a big deal about it and get mad . . . because somebody wants to change it,” Rose said. “I’d just still call it Pillbox.”

Down at the beach, Clay Arnett stared in astonishment from behind black sunglasses and a layer of suntan lotion when told about the proposal to give Pillbox a new name.

Arnett, a 26-year-old expatriate Marin County resident now summering in Solana Beach before moving on to Hawaii at the end of the year, said he couldn’t understand what the fuss is about.

A waiter at a local restaurant, Arnett said he’s been a regular at the beach because of its good waves and attractive women.

“It’s a slow-down little area,” Arnett said. “People take it easier here. And it’s not such a party zone, not like some of the bigger beaches. It’s like a little Hawaii. People are cool. Except you have your tourists.”

Arnett said city elders are misinterpreting the name if they think it has anything to do with drugs.

“People who surf drink beer and smoke pot, but they don’t do drugs,” Arnett said, hefting a can of Coors. “You usually find they’re more into their bodies.”

Like several others, Arnett argued that like it or not, the beach would continue to be called Pillbox by the local teen-agers and young adults who frequent it.

“It will always be Pillbox, man,” he said. “They can name it anything they want but it won’t change. They might put it on some signs but it won’t change.”