The Wedge is a landmark in Newport Beach. Due to its unique proximity with the jetty, it harbors some of the most impressive waves in Southern California. Only body surfing is allowed and it is a recommended place to watch the struggle of humanity against the forces of nature.

I remember living in Hawaii when the big waves came in to the North Shore. It was an amazing and powerful sight to see. There were awesome walls of water. Waimea Bay could be calm and serene, or filled with fury. You could feel fear just standing near the shoreline, as the thunderous waves peaked and crashed upon the beach, knowing if you stood too close, you could be swept away.

Usually my Dad and I would strap our surfboards on the top of the car and go to Waikiki beach after work about twice a week. Sunset was the best time to go since there were fewer tourists and the waves less choppy. We became very adept at surfing Waikiki. The waves were usually no greater than four feet and they provided a long and well-shaped ride due to the coral reef. The water was warm, clear, and comfortable. The only potential danger to beware of was the out-rigger canoes riding the waves, carrying a group of unsuspecting tourists. Catching a wave, they would travel in a straight line, not able to maneuver or turn. If they were heading towards you, it was time to rapidly react by pushing your surfboard as far off as possible and diving deep underwater. I can still remember hearing the swoosh overhead as the canoe glided forward along the wave. Usually, other surfers nearby would yell at you warning if a potential collision was imminent.

One day Dad and I were feeling more confident that we had graduated from Waikiki beach. We decided to go to the North Shore at Makaha, a legendary surfing spot. As we arrived, the waves were breaking around ten feet. Although there was some trepidation ... we decided to go in. After struggling to paddle out through the pounding waves, we sat there sizing up our next move. Soon, I saw Dad taking off on a wave. Shortly, and abruptly, I saw his board shooting high into the air above the wave - Wipeout! His board was carried on in by the powerful wave to the shore, and then battered about along the rocks. As I watched, I suddenly became aware that I was a fifth grade kid and came to the conclusion that I may just be in over my head. I managed to find a short period where the waves had subsided and rapidly paddled my board back to shore, being tossed about on the way. Fortunately, the only injury was to my Dad’s surfboard with a small ding.

When we returned to California with its relatively cold water and shorter and less-defined waves, we realized that we had become spoiled, and we hung our surfboards up in the garage until eventually becoming a garage sale item as we decided to take up scuba diving and water skiing.