Home of Surfing More Than Surfers

Along Pacific Coast Highway, a new hotel tower rises along the shoreline, offering $300-a-night suites with dramatic views of the ocean and Catalina Island. Down Huntington Beach’s Main Street, many of the tattoo parlors and dive bars have been replaced with elegant bistros and sidewalk cafes.

This is the new “Surf City U.S.A.,” the product of a decade-long revitalization effort that has transformed a beachside district more associated with July 4th melees than elegant dining.

But some surfers are feeling left out.

They miss the mom-and-pop surf shops that have closed down, along with famous hangouts like the old Surf Theater, where a generation ago pioneering filmmakers like Bud Browne showed their surfing footage from around the world.

Surfers complain about being priced out of town by soaring apartment rents. Even the Huntington Beach International Surfing Museum is searching for new quarters because its landlord--the city--is selling the building it occupies, which will put the new rental rate out of the museum’s reach.

Bud Llamas, the famed surfer whose name is chiseled prominently on the city’s Surfing Walk of Fame, laments the changes.

“My name is down there, yet I can’t afford property in this city,” said Llamas, 40. “I rent a room.”

But more than resenting the new affluence, old-timers like Llamas miss the gritty, fun-loving atmosphere they said made the old Huntington Beach distinctive.

“They can put a different face on it and make it look like every other beach city, but I think they’re shooting their own foot,” said Rebecca Pilette, whose family has owned a liquor store on Pacific Coast Highway for 30 years. “It’s like they’re trying to get the upscale South Coast Plaza crowd in here and, basically, this is a beach town and always will be a beach town.”

Huntington Beach takes great pride in its association with surfing. It fought with Santa Cruz for the title “Surf City U.S.A.,” and a dictionary on surfing defines “Surf City” as “another name for Huntington Beach, Calif.”

City officials dismiss the criticism of their new downtown, pointing out that the new businesses have generated tax dollars used to benefit surfers, from fixing leaking sewers that could pollute the ocean to building new beach restrooms and showers. They believe the criticism is coming mostly from older surfers sad to see their haunts disappear and unhappy about the influx of younger surfers--and spectators.

“Granted, there is a group of surfers in their 40s and 50s, the ones with the attitude that they don’t need any new surfers coming in here, and they chase away the younger ones,” said Ron Hagan, city director of community services. “But they’re not our future. Our future is the Generation X, the younger ones, who are making surfing a lifestyle sport.”

Huntington Beach has been one of the world’s surfing capitals since the 1920s, when Hawaiian Duke Kahanamoku, “the father of surfing,” rode the waves around the City Pier.

U.S. Surf championships have been held in the city for decades, making it a venue for early standouts such as Joyce Hoffman, David Nuuhiwa and Corky Carroll. By the early 1960s, Huntington Beach was a mecca for would-be surfers from around the country.

The city’s downtown always had a decidedly working-class feel, a place where surfers could rent a cheap apartment and still have money left to hit nightspots such as the Golden Bear and Main Street Saloon. Laguna Beach had the arts scene and Malibu had the Hollywood luster, but Huntington Beach was a blue-collar haven.

But by the late 1980s, crime was on the rise and many in the city believed the downtown was in need of a face lift. Shopping centers and multiplex movie theaters have replaced some of the older buildings and motels. A 500-room Hyatt hotel resort will open in 2003, joining the Waterfront Hilton across from the pier.

City officials said the crowds that line Main Street at night and on weekends attest to the success of their effort. But they insist it’s not been at the expense of longtime surfers.

Officials point out that the city still organizes amateur surfing contests, surf classes for youngsters and waives parking fees for high school surf teams.

Indeed, the recent U.S. Open of Surfing drew 200,000 people to Huntington Beach last month.

“There’s plenty of room for today’s surfers. Maybe the buildings have changed, but the beach hasn’t,” said Rich Barnard, a city spokesman. “I don’t agree with the idea that somehow buildings have a negative impact on something or on the way it used to be. I think we’ve increased the awareness of surfing.”

But some surfers say the changes have come at their expense. Skyrocketing home prices and rents are making it harder for young surfers trying for a pro career to live near the beach.

Kris Camacho, at 23, is an up-and-coming professional surfer. But his earnings on the pro circuit--about $40,000 a year--barely cover rent and travel. So he moonlights busing tables and as a DJ. His biggest gripe about the new Huntington Beach is the crowds it has brought to the waters.

“All this building just brings in more people, and there’s already enough here and in the water. The best surf breaks are already crowded,” he said.

Surf historian and promoter Allan Seymour said the situation reminds him of a quote by Bill Veeck, former owner of the Chicago White Sox. “He said that the true fans are sitting in the worst seats. Those in the corporate seats are talking business while the real fans are charting pitches in the nosebleed seats.”

“That’s what’s happened to Huntington Beach,” Seymour says. “It’s become a venue.”

James Lane, who has lived in Huntington Beach for 46 years, says the “Surf City U.S.A.” title is now being used by the city mainly as a marketing tool to draw diners and tourists to Huntington Beach.

“It’s a dichotomy because you’re trying to sell one lifestyle--but not selling it to surfers but to millionaires who can afford to buy property around here,” said Lane, who successfully fought the city’s attempt to take his downtown property by eminent domain.

Other surfers are more resigned, saying the kind of community surfers crave is gone.

“It would be nice to turn back the clock and surf uncrowded breaks like the ranch north of Santa Barbara or Malibu the way it was in the old days,” said Bob Bolen, 59, who in the 1970s owned the Greek, a famed surfboard shop. “But you have to keep up with change.... We’re not that sleepy little beach city anymore.”