Looking for a Break : Contest Draws Friends and Family as Amateur Surfers Go for Big Time

At the innocent age of 16, Heidi Jacobs is already a surfing widow, another casualty of those crazy board wars.

With her luxurious blond hair and California tan, the Seal Beach teen-ager is the kind of girl most young football lettermen would kill for. But Wednesday morning, she was sitting on a North County beach being ignored again, playing spectator to her boyfriend one more time.

Out in the surf, 15-year-old Ryan Simmons was zig-zagging his short board like a teen possessed, grabbing all the attention, as if he were the beauty queen.

“He practices five hours every day, sometimes 10, depending on whether he has any competitions coming up,” Jacobs said, sighing. “When other guys are taking their girlfriends to the movies, Ryan’s hitting the surf.”

But doesn’t that crash a wave onto their budding relationship?

“Naw,” she said, bashfully digging her foot into the sand.

“Oh, yes it does,” interrupted 16-year-old Bridget Carey. “In fact, they’re fighting right now. Ryan doesn’t appreciate the fact that Heidi came all the way down here just to watch him. He says it breaks his concentration.”

Simmons is a top-seeded entrant in the U. S. Amateur Surfing Championships being held this week in Oceanside. Like 500 other aspirants, he wants badly to win, to ride the wave all the way to the rarefied professional surfing ranks.

Right now, though, this amateur tournament is the big time for guys like Simmons. All of the surfing magazines will be there for stories and pictures. And the weekend finals will be broadcast over ESPN to a national audience.

Until then, amateur surfers from New Jersey to Hawaii will be on the water, pulling the most radical maneuvers from their pouch of tricks--moves with names like “the flyaway,” “the roundhouse cutback” and “the floater.”

Through Sunday, the contest will transform Oceanside’s north jetty into a regular Southern California happening, a scene of darkly

suntanned bodies, surfboards, colorful bandannas over blond heads, beach thongs, big straw hats--and more outrageously suntanned bodies.

On Wednesday morning, still early in the scheme of things, more than 100 spectators had taken the day off to loll in the sand and catch the action. There were surfers’ moms and dads, aunts and uncles, and girlfriends, along with a North County surf club composed of watchful pre-teens.

There were brothers and sisters, high school surfing coaches and a curious breed of surfing tumbleweed--down-and-outers who rolled into the nearby parking lot with a three-day beard growth, their belongings stored in the back seats of cars that belched blue smoke. They were men who claimed to be “close personal friends with Tommy Curren,” the three-time professional surfing champion.

For Mike Wilkins, a spokesman for the tournament, the turnout proves at least one thing: Amateur surfing is on a roll.

“The surf-wear industry may be in decline; kids in Iowa aren’t rushing to the stores to buy surf shorts and tops anymore,” he said. “But, on the coast, young people are taking up the sport more than ever. There’s no shortage of young surfers, that’s for sure.”

High School Teams

There are other vital signs for the health of the sport. Coastal high schools throughout the country are starting surfing teams to compete with other schools.

In California, there is a move to have high school surf teams sanctioned by the California Interscholastic Federation, which would establish governing rules and a playoff schedule--in effect, giving the sport more legitimacy, Wilkins said.

“There’s also a move to make surfing a sanctioned Olympic sport,” he said. “And, if that occurs, these amateur tournaments will be the next best thing to Olympic trials.”

The success of the sport makes Wilkins worry that some youngsters are being swept up in their dedication to it--and all that it has come to stand for.

“There’s a bumper sticker you see on a lot of cars these days that reads ‘Real Surfers Don’t Work.’ And that idea worries me,” said Wilkins, who grew up catching the waves off Huntington Beach in the 1960s.

“The idea is that, to be a successful surfer, you have to drop out of society, collect all those free surfboards and wet suits from sponsors, and never have to work a day in your life.”

Grades Plus Waves

So Wilkins is making sure that the new generation of surfers doesn’t drop out. His 14-year-old daughter, an amateur surfer who competes on a San Clemente high school team, doesn’t hit the water unless her grades are above sea level.

“Some kids focus so much on the sport to the point that they’re not plugging into what the rest of life is all about,” he said. “Some perspective needs to be established.”

For young athletes with the proper goals in mind, Wilkins said, the amateur surfing competitions are the ticket to success.

“They’re the way to use the beach scene in a positive way--as opposed to just hanging out,” he said. “It’s like the old days when I grew up. There’s just good, clean-cut, hard-core surfing. The only people you’re going to see smoking out here are the parents.”

For the surfer with an eye on a professional break, the U.S. Amateur Surfing Championship is a must-win. To get to this point, the surfers must have scored the most points in yearlong competitions sponsored by any one of the seven associations that make up the U.S. Surfing Federation.

“That’s when you find out how good you are,” he said. “The kids who make it here are the best in the U.S.”

Next, winners vie for a spot on the U.S. Amateur Surfing Team, which competes internationally. From there, many go on to professional sponsorships and a life style of world travel that most young surfers can only dream about.

From Age 10 to 55

But, before the pro ranks, come the amateur contests. On Wednesday, surfers from 10 to 55 competed in a series of daylong heats on 2- to 3-foot waves.

At the blare of a foghorn, the seven entrants of each heat raced out into the water, paddling their boards furiously toward the surf.

“That’s why I don’t use binoculars to watch the action, you miss too much of the real competition,” said 23-year-old John O’Connor of Laguna Beach. “You know, watching the guys lying on their stomachs, paddling out to see who gets priority on the waves.

“That’s the real battle. You don’t have to be a surfer to appreciate that.”

For the judges, excellence is judged by a surfer’s best three waves in a 15-minute period. “The judges are looking to see who gets the biggest waves, the longest ride and who does the most radical maneuvers,” Wilkins said.

As the surfers raced toward shore, an emcee described the action for the crowd, his voice booming from two loudspeakers perched atop folding chairs, which leaned precariously in the sand.

The surfers carved wide turns, went airborne and gracefully played on the breaking waves.

The crowd applauded often. But they weren’t the only ones enjoying the action.

“We love this stuff, it makes the beach not so touristy like it usually is,” said 17-year-old Sean Connor, a concessionaire at the North Jetty Sandwich Shop, a Frisbee’s throw from the sand. “Usually, you see lots of moms and dads, old guys with beer bellies. This week, you’re seeing the little surfer dudes and their girlfriends. It’s kicked back.”

Heather Aird, another sandwich saleswoman, said the shop’s business increases fivefold during such competitions. “It’s just funner,” she said.

Running From Sun

And there is another difference along the north jetty beach this week. People are running from the sun.

“These surfers are out in the sun, day in and day out, maybe too much,” Wilkins said. “They’re aware of things like sun damage and skin cancer.

“So when the sun pops out, you’ll see the surfers heading for the shade. That doesn’t happen on a normal day at the beach.”

For the amateur surfers Wednesday, the thrill of victory came often. So did the pain of elimination.

At a snack bar away from the crashing waves, 15-year-old Rob Machado and his friend, Frankie Hejduk, shared a candy bar and a couple packages of chocolate doughnuts. It was sort of a consolation prize.

Missing the Big Ones

The 14-year-old Hejduk had lost out in his preliminary heat. Machado, on the other hand, had advanced.

“I just didn’t catch any good waves,” Hejduk explained with his head down, his braces bared as he popped another doughnut into his mouth. “You usually know when you’re out there whether you’ve won or lost.”

Both boys had spent long hours polishing their techniques off the Encinitas shoreline, dreaming of one day becoming award-winning surfers. Now, for this tournament anyway, the hopes of only one remained.

But Hejduk said he would be back today--not in the water, though, but on the beach, cheering on his best buddy.

“That’s what friends are for,” he said.