Novel of surfing culture and growing up on the Texas Gulf Coast in the small town of Port Aransas.
The sound alone was frightful, the clamor of the voices which came in waves matched the swaying of the barricades. The voices got louder and louder, the barricade swayed further and further, and then someone yelled that the barricade was falling. It fell, crashed to the ground, was stomped under the feet of hundreds. People […]
Several hours of drift surfing had turned our arms into rubber and exhausted us. We’d parked at what we called “Pipeline”, where an underground oil pipe to an offshore rig was buried. It was hoped that the waves at Pipeline would jack up more before breaking and get hollow. We’d come out of the water […]
In those days the pier was still made of creosote soaked black wood timbers, thicker than railroad ties, the waves on big days reaching up just under the planking; the power of the largest waves you could feel shaking the whole structure as they surged past the pilings, squirting salt spray up through the slits […]