Surfer’s Addiction a Heart Breaker

I was introduced to Todd Chesser a year ago, an hour before sunup at a Baja California toll gate on Mexico 1 near Ensenada. He and a few fellow surfers had rendezvoused there before catching a boat to Todos Santos Island, Baja California’s answer to Oahu’s infamous North Shore.

Chesser had taken a redeye from Hawaii, arriving at 3 a.m., then met his friends, got in a car and driven to Ensenada, hoping to get to Todos Santos in time for a giant swell that was expected to come roaring in from the north. After surfing Todos Santos, he would

return home and catch the same swell when it began pounding the shores of Oahu.

But Chesser never made it into the water at Todos Santos. The swell never quite materialized. The waves were only 10-12 feet, which impressed the heck out of me but seemed to depress everyone else. Two of Chesser’s friends jumped in and caught a few of the mushy peaks, not wanting to have gone through all of their trouble for nothing.

But Chesser just sat there, bundled up at the bow, munching Power Bars, telling jokes while scanning the horizon for signs of a swell that wasn’t coming.

“This isn’t even worth getting wet for,” he said, when asked why he wasn’t paddling out to join his friends in the lineup. “I’m not going to freeze for this.”

It was then that I realized that, for Chesser and others who spend their winters chasing monstrous waves wherever they might be, surfing is no longer merely an entertaining way to spend a day, a form of expression or even a way of life.

It is an addiction, for which there is no cure. The thrill is proportionate to the danger involved. The greater the risk, the greater the rush.

A few days ago, while surfing the Internet, I was clicking through the online pages of the Honolulu Star-Bulletin (https://starbulletin.com) when a headline caught my eye: “Surfer Chesser Dies.”

The story said Todd Chesser had been pronounced dead at Oahu’s Wahiawa Hospital after having been pulled from the ocean, unconscious, near Waimea Bay.

Despite the closing of North Shore beaches because of dangerous surf, Chesser and two others had paddled out to a spot near Waimea Bay to ride thunderous breakers measuring 20-25 feet from the backs, with faces closer to 50.

Chesser reportedly was caught inside, stood on his board and dived down to try to make it under one of the waves. But it held him under so long that by the time he surfaced, he was either semiconscious or unconscious.

The other two surfers saw he was in trouble and paddled to his side, but another set rolled in and scattered the group. When the set cleared, Chesser was nowhere to be found.

A search was begun and lifeguards later found his broken surfboard. Beneath it was Chesser, tangled in the rocks near Waimea. He could not be revived.

His death occurred a year after that of Ventura’s Donnie Solomon, who drowned after going over the falls at Waimea Bay. And Solomon had died a year to the day after Mark Foo, a famous professional surfer from Hawaii, got buried alive by a mammoth breaker at Mavericks, a big-wave spot in California near Santa Cruz.

In the first two instances I thought, “These guys were asking for it.” But this time, I was able to put a face and personality on the victim, which changed my thinking.

Chesser was an articulate young man, well liked and highly regarded by his peers.

He was an only child. His father was killed in an automobile accident when he was an infant, after which his mother, Jeannie, decided to get a fresh start and move to Hawaii with her only child. They were close. She was working as an announcer at surf contests; he was getting paid by sponsors to be seen riding big waves.

At his services Monday afternoon, on what would have been Chesser’s 29th birthday, at Alii Beach Park in Haleiwa, many of surfing’s biggest stars were in attendance, among them world champion Kelly Slater, Johnny Boy Gomes, Brock Little and Shane Dorian. All gave touching, tearful accounts of their experiences with Todd.

Jeannie Chesser was still in shock and was nearly overwhelmed by the show of emotion.

“Jeannie looked so tiny and frail and I hurt for her,” Carol Hogan, a family friend and owner of a water-sports publicity firm, told The Times after the memorial.

“I think anyone who has children actively involved in life must always be concerned about their safety--I am no exception, with a triathlete son and a daughter who swims long-distance races and is a flight attendant. I wanted to just go over and hug her and let her know how much we all care, so I did. But I don’t think anyone can ever know, until it happens to them, what it’s like to lose a child.”

Chesser’s fiancee, Janet Rollins, fought back tears as she explained that she had expected to be greeting the same crowd under much happier circumstances on Aug. 2, their planned wedding date. She called upon the eight who would have been Todd’s attendants and presented each with an etched vase, the gifts he had planned to give his groomsmen.

Chesser’s friends then paddled into the somewhat mild surf, formed a circle and laid down their leis in honor of their fallen companion, who seemingly had so much to live for.

Unfortunately, one of the things Chesser lived for, perhaps above all else, was that mind-blowing speed rush that comes with streaking down the faces of mountainous waves that can bury you alive.

“It’s hard to watch these kids grow up into brave young men,” Hogan said. “And harder still to lose them. This will take some time to get over.”

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Although there are no guarantees that a surfer paddling out into such enormous surf will make it back alive, building stamina does improve one’s chances.

Brian Keaulana, 35, a North Shore lifeguard-surfer whose exploits in the water have made him famous, is very serious about this aspect of his training.

“A lot of surfers train to surf,” he says. “We train to survive. We do special training. We take 80-pound lava rocks and run across the sandy bottom. We start at depths of 45 feet and we’re running maybe 50 yards across the bottom. That’s how we simulate being held under.”

SHOWTIME

The Fred Hall Western Fishing Tackle and Boat Show will be held Wednesday-March 2 at the Long Beach Convention Center.

Admission is $8 for adults, free for children 12 and under. Hours are 2-10 p.m. Wednesday through Friday, 10 a.m.-10 p.m. Saturday and 10 a.m.-7 p.m. Sunday.

SAILING

After 26,500 miles and 105 days at sea, Frenchman Christophe Auguin, 38, is safe and snug in his home port, Les Sables D’Olonne, being hailed as the winner of the Vendee Globe solo around-the- world race. His time of 105 days 20 hours 31 minutes beat the previous record by four days.

All he craved after three months of eating freeze-dried food, of all things, was a hot drink and a chopped vegetable sandwich.

Auguin said he hasn’t given up hope for a fellow racer who has been missing since Jan. 7. Efforts to find Canadian Gerry Roufs, one of 16 initial competitors, have been unsuccessful.

HOSTILE TAKEOVER?

Outdoor Safari International’s controversial bid to privatize the Castaic Lake lagoon remains unresolved. Hundreds of bass fishermen are up in arms because they say the lunker trout and catfish OSI plans to stock will ruin their trophy bass fishery. That issue is being put before biologists.

Others are upset because they don’t want to pay $10 access and additional launching fees to fish a 160-acre pond they have always fished for free. OSI points to the benefits its moving in would offer, such as improving the grounds, adding the new fisheries and holding programs for children that are so popular at Corona and Santa Ana River Lakes, its other facilities. The Department of Fish and Game is still deciding whether to issue the aquaculture permits that would allow the stocking of imported trout and catfish.

Los Angeles County officials probably would like to give their stamp of approval because the county would save the money it costs to maintain the facility and be paid rent to boot. But given the controversy OSI has generated, the Board of Supervisors is treading carefully and will study the issues further before taking up the matter again at a meeting March 4.

Steve Miller, vice president of OSI, meanwhile, will turn clay pigeon Sunday night from 8-10 p.m. as a guest on call-in Fish Talk Radio (830 AM).

BAJA BITE

Unseasonably cold weather and ugly, green water is still shutting down the striped marlin bite off Cabo San Lucas, while swordfish continue to be encountered on a surprisingly regular basis. And an occasional blue marlin is showing. The largest was a 450-pounder caught by an Oregon angler after a 3 1/2-hour fight aboard Juanita II. Dorado are the only offshore game fish that don’t seem to mind the color of the water. Everyone’s catching them.

Farther up the gulf, from San Jose to La Paz, the water gets a little clearer but the wind is stronger, raging down from the north and making tough fishing even tougher.

Until the weather pattern breaks, the best bets remain on the Mexican mainland. In Mazatlan, John Ridge of Redondo Beach brought 55 yellowfin tuna to the boat in two days. The Aries fleet reported an incredible 564 yellowfin--in the 15- to 40-pound range--for the week. Farther south, in the Ixtapa-Zihuatanejo area, marlin and sailfish are being upstaged by enormous yellowfin tuna, some tipping the scales at close to 300 pounds.