1999 Surfing Season Briefs from instructor Mr. Minor

Tide Guide is very grateful to have guided four surf camps these being our first professionally organized ever. I felt having guided the kayak trips to Matagorda Island for over a decade and gradually learned about weather patterns, tides, hurricanes and their waves. I would begin sharing my love of longboard surfing with you. This is my best sport; it is gentle on my body. By that I mean when I do eventually wipeout I basically just splash. Its not like I'm skiing and fall on the hardpack. Or riding horses and forget to check the saddle cinch strap on Mervin Bells old saddle and crash in Pinto's field while running around on one of the frisky horses. I suppose I couldn't hold my breath long enough on a wipeout during a Cane and drown but I'll take my chances with surfing. Some people want me to take up motorcycles again Hill Climbing in Idaho what a blast. My brothers want me to water-ski but I think I’ll just surf and fish. I do a fair job at both and tried about every thing else so I’m happy with surfing. Surfing a wave is the easy part but getting out to the break is the hard part. It takes endurance and knowledge of the waves. But the excellent 88-degree warm gulf water just invites me during hurricane (Cane) season.

CAMP 1: Leisure Learning Unlimited(Houston, TX)

This year on our first camp we had 9 guests from Houston. Ruben Alverez and his son were my cooks. During the weekend we had consistent wind waves 3-4 foot. And 6 of my guests stood up. The others had fun just belly surfing and I was proud of all of them. Ruben cooked good Mexican food. The weather was cool at night for sleeping and we all had fun. - Bill

CAMP 2: Leisure Learning Unlimited(Houston, TX)

Hurricane Bret no kidding I didn't expect such luck. I had watched this system since a Wednesday and decided not to cancel our camp. All the guests arrived Friday except Chuck who works for NASA in Houston and his boss made him work Friday night so he didn't show up until Saturday. Friday evening we could detect the presence of the Cane in the night clouds and of course we monitored it on the weather radio. Saturday morning after our dry land session we all went out into a glassy gulf with 3 - 4 waves just excellent for the beginners. Did two sessions of about an hour each then around two o'clock we began to witness the waves building. By 3 o'clock we walked up onto one of the sand dunes for a view and the break was 500 yards offshore and 12-foot faces. Clouds from the spiral of the Cane were coming from the north. John a geologist by profession with one of the oil companies understood the storm dynamics and was able to explain things to us. I felt conditions were prudent for John and Nate to join me on going out 500 yards. Cara, Kim, and Chuck would surf the shore breaks. John and Nate couldn't get all the way out but Mr. Minor sure did. There were four others out. The waves were black because of the low thick Cane clouds. Smooth walls 10-12 foot rolled in one after another. I rode a dozen then the last one 500 yards all the way to the beach. We had beef stew aleady made and had supper about 6 o'clock and sitting there watching it all happen and talking was real fun and exciting. Then one of the park rangers came by and announced that the mayor of Corpus was probably going to close the bridge to the mainland. So we finished our stew packed up and left Port A along with every one else. Excellent Camp. - Bill

CAMP 3: Trinity University

Matt, Merle, Christine, Regan, Andrea, Cathrine, Jake, Chris, Kevin all arrived Saturday about eleven. Merle had just returned from Kuaui, and Christine from Maui and had a surf lesson. The Gulf breezes were putting up 2-4 foot consistent waves, which lasted through Sunday. Class began an hour after they arrived giving them time to walk the beach go for a swim after their long drive down from campus. We then went into the Casa Grande Tent in the shade ate watermelon and I gave a surf seminar. That lasted 45 minutes. They choose a buddy and we did an exersize to determine if you are goofy foot or regular. Then one board to two surfers walked to the waters edge and then I did a demonstration and caught a few waves. During this first session a couple of students did stand up on the boards. During the second session a couple more stood up and by first session Sunday morning with larger surf every one had made a good ride. Dinner Sat night was home made by all of us Beef and Chicken Stew and Nachos. Coach Potter my boss had bought Tide Guide brand new restaurant grade cooking ware, which I appreciate and they cooked great. Sunday was real fun and we all went to Pat Maggees Surf Shop before the students left. We took pictures in front of the store. That store is a dangerous place for a surfer to go into the girls bought a bunch of swimsuits and other stuff. Excellent trip. - Bill

"I could have spent it on a VCR for my lonely Sanyo. Instead, I dedicated my 80 bucks toward Outdoor Recreation's version of a surfing extravaganza. On that fateful last Friday, I switched my backpack's occupants from "Woordsworth's Greatest Hits" to my most sand-repellent clothing, and joined my eight adventuresome companions at the Bell Center. Once we had loaded our eager vehicle with sleeping bags, backpacks, and Nutria-Grain bars galore, we set off for our expedition in Port Aransas. Surviving our charmingly vague directions, we arrived at the beach in about three and half-hours and met our beach sage: Bill Minor. Once he had briefed us on the basics-how to avoid dehydration and which crustaceans have sharp and oddly shapen teeth-we received our first surfing lesson and headed for that salty bath we call the Gulf of Mexico. Although some of us had grandiose notions of mastering the waves quickly, our expectations were met with Mother Nature's laughter and about 3 and a half gallons of saltwater via the nostrils. After learning the timing in which the waves welcome surfers, we began to experience a bit more success. In fact, we battled the gulf with our 9-foot tall swords all afternoon until each of us had experienced at least a hiccup of upright triumph.

Our labor was certainly rewarded, though by the cuisine featured at break time. Bill's concoctions ranged from a fruit cornucopia a la honey limeade to a 99 vegetable stew the included such delights as cabbage, potatoes and a few vegetables that sounded like some exotic breed of dog. Once dusk joined us and we had counted and compared our battle scars, the gatherers rested, while a few Outdoor Recrians went out fishing. A fruitful hunt, indeed. They returned carrying a trout, a slightly deformed catfish, and the pride of the bounty, a hammerhead shark (that would definitely be considered if held next to a small tadpole.) After cleverly nicknaming him "Sharkey" (long day...), and considering pulling him around on a leash for the evening, we consented to put the fish on ice and retire for the night.

Although the tent probably could have sheltered 30 people and approximately 70-75 circus clowns, most of us decided to brave the ceiling-less mode of sleeping and unrolled our sleeping bags onto the open and beckoning sand. (My narrative may lack details at this point since I seem to be the only one who did not suffer from the unfortunate incessantly-buzzing-insects-and unforgivably hard surface insomnia). We did all survive the night, though, and woke to pour our effort and inspiration into another full day of surfing (and for the real warriors: mullet fishing).

The gulf was a bit choppier and more kelp-ridden than the previous day, but still allowed us to work on our new found craft. By the time 3pm arrived, we had all become closely acquainted with sunburn, exhaustion, and had knee and hip abrasions that seemed to resemble islands of the tropics. Our two days of rewarding strife were complete, and we had to toss our reluctant belongings back into the van (along with the members of kingdom planate that refused to detach) and head back to our sweet red brick home. Besides a much-anticipated Dairy Queen stop and a few well-disguised directional driving errors, the wildest excitement had already passed and so we simply enjoyed the radio's playful reception and the bumpily pleasant ride back.

In the end, we were certainly left with some fleshy reminders of our fondly recalled wipeouts and bits of seaweed that would probably never cease persisting. And although we never did find an opportune time to yell "cowabunga" or any other poetic surfing phrases, we definitely developed affection for the sport. We returned to Trinity with bedrolls full of stories an a raving recommendation for anyone with balance and a sense of adventure to seize the next watery opportunity."