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The Surfer’s Journal
www.surfersjournal.com
2004, Volume Thirteen, Number Five

Notes from the Field: The Death of Mysto Point by Greg Gutierrez

Mysto Point is dead. Don’t get me wrong. When the winter tide is right, it still rocks, I’m sure. When the wind is out of a certain direction, it’s still sheltered. You can still park away from the car thrashers and walk or paddle in.

Mysto Point is just dead to me. For the first time in 25 years, I haven’t surfed there the entire season. I’m not sure I’ll ever surf there again. Ever since a certain shaper’s shop was forced to close over three years ago, the aloha has simply faded away until now it is completely gone.

When the shaper surfed there every day, the anger of the lost boys was held more in check out of respect for this smiling ambassador. He still surfs there, but his mana has slowly disappeared as the sewage has slowly overtaken the cove.

When contemplating giving up the point, I remembered a time when I was in a relationship with a stunning real-live Barbie doll. The energy between us was incredible and my attraction to her was insatiable. But after some insane times, I realized that she was dangerous and a messy ending was an absolute guarantee. So, I left her though it hurt. Such is my relationship with the point. I have squared off with many of the lost boys one-on-one in the past. But, generally, they don’t make a ruckus unless the odds are well in their favor. I could call in the big guns, but what’s the use? Better to leave them in their false paradise.

Have you read Lord of the Flies? In it, Ralph is leader of the civilized boys and Jack is leader of the hunters. For a time, the power lies with the hunters and civilization is lost as it currently is at Mysto Point. In the end, though, Jack falls, as he must. When the lost boys of Mysto Point fall, then I will return. Until then, I will seek other sanctuaries (and they seem infinite).

When it’s truly big at Mysto Point, the loudest thugs disappear leaving only a handful of true watermen. The truth is, I feel sorry for the hostile. Yes, they may read this and say, “That’s right kook! This is our break!”

To them I reply, “It’s God’s break and you are teaching your children to hate.