I drove down to Malibu for sunrise this morning. I figured, with my cynical and warped mind, and having had a few years of Malibu experience in the 70's, that this time there might be some truly sappy shrines to Dora put up over the weekend as the pretenders came out of the woodwork. I also figured that if he died on a Thursday, his spirit went "What the hell's this?" on Friday, and he would never go to Modern Malibu on a weekend...I figured Monday would be the day.
So down there I went, and found First Point almost empty, clouds on the horizon but sun up, with a light Santa Ana adding a bit of texture. 10 people were out. 2nd and 3rd Points were empty (lagoon open and flowing - straight from the Tapia sewerage treatment plant). No shrines at all, or even remnants. There might be hope for surfing.
That wave is still one of the most beautiful...straight out of dreams we have no right to dream. I took some photos, as much for myself as anybody else. Dora wasn't there, in the spirit or the flesh, as far as I could tell. It's a sacred place, not a person. I'd like to think, if he wanted, that maybe his ashes will wind up there some warm, full-moon, south swell September night. But on this morning you could look up the point, walk the sand at the water's edge, or look back down the point at that magic place and feel a summer day in 1956 with the future still ahead of us all.
Nels Norene
vagabondsurf.com
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