Locals Only?

There was a piece of relatively disturbing news out of California recently, specifically down San Diego way. It seems that a group of young men who call themselves the Bird Rock Bandits had taken it upon themselves to kill a guy who, according to police reports, had the misfortune of accidentally spilling his drink on one of the Bandits. The authorities in La Jolla, California, are working to prove that the Bird Rock Bandits, who are actually a bunch of surfers, are in fact a variation of a street gang.

The first time I heard this news, I thought it had to be a mistake. Surfers are friendly people, hanging out on the beach and generally being nice to passersby. Nantucket surfers pretty much fit that description, at least in my own limited experience. For example, I remember once interviewing Gary Kohner, the proprietor of Nantucket Island Surf School, and I have to tell you that the guy couldn't have been nicer if he'd tried. He's great with kids, he's always offering to help other people, he's one of those all-around good guys. Come to think of it, he reminds me a lot of myself. But I digress.

PHOTO BY JILL SANDOLE

As I was saying, given that I'd always thought of surfers as a generally laid-back bunch of folks, I was shocked to hear about the supposed violence perpetrated by the Bird Rock Bandits. And the more I read about these people, the more I discovered that they're not so laid-back after all. They're apparently very territorial when it comes to their part of the beach, and woe to the poor tourist who tries to surf one of their waves. And what shocked me most of all was to learn that the Bird Rock Bandits aren't the only group of surfers, who have this kind of attitude.

Though I have seen "Point Break" three times, I myself am not a surfer - try not to show how shocked you are at that bombshell - so I was actually forced to do a little research on the subject after I'd decided to write about it. So I did what any good researcher with about eight minutes to dedicate to his research does and I went online. Surfer-themed message boards abound on the Internet, and it didn't take long for me to learn that a lot of surfers have a strict policy of "locals only" for some of the more prime aquatic real estate that they covet. Long story short, if you're not a local, don't drop in on a wave. Look at me using surfer lingo. Told you I was doing research.

And another thing that really struck me about this whole thing was how divided the surfing community seems to be. In essence, it sounds like there's a very vocal minority that holds this exclusive attitude, whereas most surfers seem to be of the mindset that all are welcome and that surfing is an inclusive activity. These few bad apples give the rest of the surfers out there a bad name.

And that got me to thinking about how glad I am that I don't participate in any activities with that kind of attitude, vocal minority or otherwise, where we castigate non-local participants for the very fact that they're not local. But then, in the middle of my self-congratulatory meditation, it hit me like it so often does.

I fish.

That segue is local like the day is long. Born on Nantucket, raised on Nantucket. It's as native as the sand at Cisco.

Friends and neighbors, I hate to say it, but it's true. Sometimes anglers aren't the most accommodating breed of folks around. We're secretive. We're deceptive. We're known to lie on occasion. Case in point, there was a photo which hung in the old Bill Fisher Tackle - one that Bill Pew no doubt still has somewhere in a shoebox in Florida. It featured a member of my own family (who was not yours truly, just FYI) proudly posing with a pair of pretty huge striped bass he'd caught. And he was posing in a location that was very obviously the beach off the west jetty. The photo suggested he'd caught these fish there. When you walked into Bill's shop and saw it, the family member in question's hope was, you might be inclined to go fish off the west jetty. Which was fine with him, given he'd caught both fish off Tuckernuck. Ridiculous as it might sound, he was that protective of his own little "secret spot." He wanted to send people elsewhere and keep his spot for himself. In a slightly different vein, I can remember other people who would literally claim, out loud and at the top of their voices, that you were trespassing on their particular piece of the Atlantic Ocean and they would appreciate your vacating the area posthaste. They'd use a little more colorful language, but you get the basic idea. And yes, there are stories of surfcasters explaining to non-local anglers that their presence on the beach is not only unappreciated, it might just turn out to be hazardous to their health.

Three words for you, kids: GET OVER YOURSELVES.

It's a big ocean and a big beach out there, and there's plenty of room for all of us to fish, and to do so in harmony that would make Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder envious. This is not to say that everyone now has carte blanche to go out and stand on top of somebody else who happens to be catching fish. Be respectful and mind your distance. But if you're the one being minded, don't start getting all territorial and grumpy and violent when somebody is fifty feet down the beach from you. That just makes the whole time unpleasant for everyone around you. If you want to yell at tourists, go driving around town. That'll give you more than enough opportunities. Trust me on this one. But leave the anger behind when you're out there fishing. There's plenty of room for everybody to play nicely together.

And while you're at it, kids, don't fish around the surfers. I don't want to do anything to upset the balance of tranquility those folks have got working. They're a model of serenity for the rest of us.

Tight lines.