Orange County’s ‘Grommets’ Practically Live in the Water, but Not All of Them Are Wet Behind the Ears : Young Riders

From a distance, Ryan Turner looked every bit the surfer as he and his brother, Timmy, walked down Main Street, headed for the pier.

They had the requisite wet suits: black with full sleeves and a splash of color. Their surfboards, which they tucked under their armpits, were loaded with logos from the industry: Rockin’ Fig. Body Glove. Island Style.

“We like surfin’ near the pier,” exclaimed Ryan in perfect nasal-inflected singsong surf-speak. “It’s where the best waves are.”

But, hey, what’s different about this picture?

Yo, these guys are small . Rather than the big boys who dominate the waves with lip-bashing maneuvers, Ryan and Timmy are 13 and 11, respectively. Timmy barely tips the scales at 85 pounds.

Webster’s Dictionary doesn’t even have a word for them yet. But at Southern California’s beaches where they’re weaned on a steady diet of Pacific Ocean waves, they’re called “grommets,” pint-sized surf dudes whose only worries center on their next wave or getting a ride to the beach.

“When Ryan was 6 years old, he told me he was going to be a pro surfer someday,” said Ryan’s mom, Michele Turner, 38. “I laughed at that, but that’s all he does is think, eat, and dream surfing.”

“Hey, I’ve always wanted to be a pro surfer,” Ryan chirped. “Well, at least try.”

Originally, they were called gremmies (short for gremlins), young surfer wanna-bes. In the ‘60s, the Australians picked up the term grommets (named after the small fasteners on older wet suits, according to surf lore) as a substitute for gremmies, and it’s been adopted worldwide, according to Trevor Cralle’s “Surfin’ary, a Dictionary of Surfing Terms and Surfspeak” (Ten Speed Press, Berkeley, Calif., $16.95).

Mike Downey, a 36-year-old surfer who coaches grommets and is on the board of directors of the Professional Longboard Assn., said the term could apply to anyone under 20.

“A grommet could be any young man or girl who surfs, or are learning to surf. You know, even up to the age of 18 for boys, until they’re considered a man,” Downey said.

But grommets compete against each other in specific age brackets under age 12, according to the Huntington Beach-based National Scholastic Surfing Assn.

“There are many organizations that sponsor surf contests, and probably all have their own technical definition of what a grommet is,” said Janice Aragon, NSSA director.

Surf shop owners say they spot grommets by how big their eyes bug out, especially when a new line of surfboards appears. “To a grommet, a surf store with a full line of shiny new surfboards, wet suits, and clothing, is like walking through candy land,” said one owner. “They want everything. “

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Inside the Huntington Beach home of the Turner boys lies an inner sanctum known as Ryan’s bedroom. It is here, amid the usual boy clutter, that any up-and-coming grommet worth his surf wax can feel at home.

His door is white--that is, you can see slivers of white although it’s layered over with surf logos and stickers of all shapes and sizes. Don’t try counting them. Just let the eye bounce off a few: KNAC, Billabong, Bart Simpson--and one of Ryan’s favorites, “I Hate Days Without Waves.”

There are about a dozen pictures of surfers on monster waves at famous beaches around the world. Surfing trophies are stacked up on bookshelves. He saved the judge’s board, a 2-by-3-foot sheet of cardboard that had his name on it and the words “No. 1” printed next to his name when he won a 1992 contest.

In another corner of his room is a giant poster-sized card that was signed by well-wishers after another contest: “Way to go Ryan, Maureen Rivers.” “Good Job Ryan. See you on ESPN real soon! Gary.”

For balance, the only non-surfing items are an old plaque with baseball star Ken Griffey Jr., a Steve Klassen snowboard poster, and several pictures of Jesus (the Turners are Catholic).

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To help understand Ryan, you need to remember he was born in Huntington Beach, a coastal city unofficially known as “Surf City.”

Oh, and he does have other interests. There’s school, Mesa View, where he is a seventh-grader and maintains a 3.2 grade point average. His bicycle. His job (he and Timmy have work permits and wait on tables at the Sugar Shack, their parents’ cafe on Main Street, only a block from the pier).

He played Little League baseball for a while but gave it up after “picking teams heated things up and got too political,” said his father, Tim Turner, 38, who also was born in Surf City and grew up riding Huntington’s waves but on a longer surfboard, and in another era.

“I’m really a fair-weather surfer now,” Ryan’s father said. “But I’d rather have him surfing than getting into trouble.”

Oh, sure, there’s television and Nintendo, but Ryan swears he plays only a few minutes when he’s bored or when school chums visit.

Surfing isn’t so much a choice as it is a destiny for Ryan and hundreds of other grommets. They slid into the sport, literally, by skateboarding first, riding asphalt waves for hours on end.

It was Ryan’s mother who took him and his brother to swimming lessons before they were 5--an act that jump-started their aquatic careers.

“We lived and worked so close to the ocean that in the back of my mind I didn’t want to worry about them. I knew that eventually, someone would take them to the beach when I wasn’t there with them,” said Ryan’s mom.

And, it’s paid off. His mom proudly notes that Ryan has more than 100 surf contest trophies. His dedication and Timmy’s have won them invitations to this year’s U.S. National Championships in Huntington Beach. Even on the grommet scale, that’s hot.

Once Ryan goofed off in school and his grades fell. His mother threatened to take away his surfboard. He thought she was bluffing. She wasn’t. He got straight A’s that semester.

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In Ryan’s world, there’s a sense that accomplishments are measured in terms only other surfers can understand. For example, when his first board was outgrown, he graduated to a shorter, sleeker board. When he learned to duck dive (diving with your board beneath oncoming waves) it was the equivalent of “graduating to high school,” said coach Downey.

Then there’s the day he spent with Kelly.

In surfing, there is no other name that elicits more response than to say “Kelly” to a bunch of grommets. He is Mt. Everest, free pizza, and a day of surfing, all in one.

Ice hockey has its Wayne Gretzky, basketball its Michael Jordan. Surfing has Kelly Slater. Slater is last year’s Assn. of Surfing Professionals tour champion. He earns more than $1 million just in endorsements of surf and surfing products and has $144,655 in career contest earnings. Because of his killer good looks, Slater also has won a part on the television series “Baywatch.” All at the age of 20.

“I know Kelly,” Ryan said coolly. “He’s a friend of mine. We surfed together as a team at a contest.”

They did, too. Ryan’s mom has the pictures to prove it, and they adorn a wall along with half a dozen other surfing pictures of the grommet sons at the family cafe.

What are the depths of grommet dedication?

The question caused Ryan’s mother’s eyes to roll upward. It seems that last year was the year for the Turner family to go camping.

“But Ryan said he didn’t want to go,” his mother recalled.

Ryan and a bunch of other grommets had put their names into a drawing before a major surfing contest. The winner would be teamed up with surfing’s pro competitors. Well, guess who Ryan picked. Right. Kelly.

“And he kept the ticket stub to the drawing,” his mom added. “He hasn’t thrown it away.”

And the camping trip?

“We kind of canceled that.”