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Cal Porter's Then & Now

Biography

There are many famous opening lines from great works of literature: “It was a dark and stormy night”, Bulwer-Lytton, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”, Charles Dickens, “Call me Ishmael”, from Moby Dick, but ever was there a line more to the point than, “I Am Born”, in Chapter 1 of David Copperfield. So that’s where I will start. It happened to me in the year 1924, and by my calculation that makes me 88 this year.

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I grew up on the beach. The beach and ocean have been the major influence on my entire life, and continue to be. I have always lived where I could see the ocean, the first part of my life in Playa del Rey, and for more than the last 60 years in Malibu. I have found that I can never be away from the beach and ocean for any great length of time. I miss them when I am away, my mind dwells on them when I am gone, I am drawn back as if by a magnet. There is a feeling you get when the surf is up or the water is crystal clear. You want to be out there, you have got to be out there, you can’t wait. “I’ve got to get wet” is often heard. Other surfers know this feeling. And afterwards, when you come out of the water, cold but happy, and the bright sunshine gradually warms your body, it is the moment of truth. I need to be in the water. I have been in the ocean since I was a baby. You can swim in it, you can surf and dive in it, you can fish in it, you can play in it, you can sail on it, and you can just be near it and sit on the beach, it’s all good.

I surfed at an early age. I had older brothers, and we had surfboards of one kind or another before I was five years old. I’ve surfed all my life. I’ve bodysurfed all my life. I dived for lobster and abalone and fish for dinner, and I sold them to restaurants and fish markets. I had a small fishing boat and fished commercially. I taught swimming. And when I was old enough I became a lifeguard so that I could earn a living and still be on the beach and in the water. Lifeguarding put me through college and graduate school. I became a teacher and then a school principal for many years. But I never left the beach. All my spare time and days off were on the beach. It’s a good thing for me that my family shared my love for the ocean. Most of our trips were to the watery places of the world, where the sea was warm, the water was clear, the diving was good, and the waves were beckoning. I lifeguarded for almost 40 years. And now many years into retirement I’m still on the beach. I live on the beach. Through my windows I can see the beach. And when that day comes and it’s time to “shuffle off this mortal coil” (Hamlet), I will return to the sea once more.

Lifeguards

THE LIFEGUARD TOWER

In the beginning there were no lifeguard towers on the beach; which is understandable since in the beginning there were no lifeguards on the beach. There were lifeguards in the many indoor, salt water plunges along the bay in the early 1900’s but not out on the sand. As a consequence drownings were not infrequent. When Hawaiian George Freeth arrived in California in 1907 and became a lifeguard in the Redondo Salt Water Plunge he set about organizing volunteer beach lifeguard squads along the busier beaches of Santa Monica Bay.

1909, Freeth on the left with the volunteer lifeguards he organized at Venice Beach

These unpaid volunteer lifeguards could be found during the summer months at Redondo Beach and Venice Beach and spotted here and there along the bay, but the other miles of beaches remained unprotected. At first the volunteers simply roamed the sand on foot with primitive rescue equipment, but they did help to save many lives. By the early 1920’s a few, very small enclosed towers were placed on the busier beaches. These were uncomfortable; room for just one man and reached by a ladder, but it did get the lifeguard up above the crowded beaches where he could better view the swimmers.

1920’s Lifeguard tower, Venice Beach

The first open box towers appeared in the 1920’s on the beaches in front of the salt water plunges and a few of the beach clubs. These towers afforded good visibility and could be easily moved around to different locations. A beach umbrella could be opened if the guard desired respite from the sun.

1920’s lifeguards in front of the Venice Plunge. I lifeguarded with these fellows at the plunge as a teenager; many of them became L.A. County and City Beach Lifeguards later

The first two professional, paid beach lifeguards were hired in 1926, George Wolf in Venice and Jim Reinhart in Hermosa. They had no towers. Jim roamed the sands on foot and George patrolled the beaches from Venice to Playa Del Rey in a car. The following year many more lifeguards were hired, and the little wooden towers seen above were quickly assembled and scattered along most of the beaches.

In those days (over 70 years ago) a friend, possibly bringing you a cold drink, could visit at the tower. Today the girls in the towers are all professional, trained beach lifeguards

In the 1940’s the little wooden towers were deemed to be inadequate for the job. More roomy towers with more storage space were called for. The maintenance foreman designed the new towers and through the years they replaced almost all the old ones.

A place for everything: rescue board locker, dressing room, and lookout tower

Well, then along comes the 60’s and who needs all that space, and why a paddleboard at every tower? A smaller, more economical, functional tower is what we need, one with an outside deck to sit on. Soon most of the old ones were removed and made room for the new ones even though we kind of liked that dressing room with individual lockers.

My last tower, Nicholas Beach, Zero Point, 1976

One more and the evolution of the lifeguard tower is finished. The same principle as the above tower but today’s tower is more roomy, more functional and maybe even more attractive.

It’s pretty nice alright but for some reason I really liked those little white, wooden, open towers with all that fresh air and sunshine over seventy years ago.

And the visitors weren’t too bad either.

Submitted By Cal Porter on May 09 , 2013

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Lifeguards

THE BEACH LIFEGUARDS, and that other sport

The Los Angeles County Lifeguards are known the world over for their mastery and dominance in ocean aquatic competition. When they enter that salt water arena it’s a rare day that a loss ensues. They are expected to win and they do.

Many years ago, almost sixty-five to be exact, a group of county guards competed in a different competition, one that was never held before and has never been held since. It was the summer of 1948 and lifeguard forces from Santa Monica Bay to San Diego were challenged to send their best six-man, sand volleyball teams to a competition at the courts at Will Rogers, Santa Monica Canyon State Beach, to determine a grand champion. It was all for fun, although we were pretty serious about it, and was to be held one afternoon and into the evening, followed by beach party food prepared by the ladies (and well, maybe just a little beer involved). Representing LA County, our six man lifeguard team was amazingly composed of three sets of brothers, all working the Will Rogers area. Our leaders were the Shargo Brothers, Nate and Sam, who had been given the title “Kings of the Beach” for their prowess in the sand doubles game from the middle 1930’s to the early 40’s. I was lucky to have been assigned there as a permanent lifeguard in 1946 and played for years with the Shargos and the other top players that congregated there at this Mecca of beach volleyball.

Sam second from left, Nate second from right, 1946

(Others: George McManus, Christy Miller, Ted Warren, Cal Porter, Bob Lee, John Dudrow)

In those days there weren’t the hundreds of volleyball courts along the beaches that are there today, and no tournaments that are played for thousands of dollars in prize money and televised around the world. When I first played in the late 1930’s early 40’s there were just four public courts in all the north bay: the one alongside the old Ocean Park Pier where I mostly played, one at the Santa Monica Pier, another at Sorrento Beach, and the fourth at State Beach. The others were scattered among the private beach clubs where sand volleyball first started in California. It is said that famous swimmer and surfer Duke Kohanamoku introduced volleyball to the beach when he worked at the Santa Monica Beach Club in 1926. He had played in the first sand game ever recorded at the Outrigger Canoe Club in Hawaii in 1915. Where now there are dozens of courts at State Beach, for our tournament we put up a second court so two games could be played simultaneously. I don’t remember how many teams entered. There was the one from the Santa Monica Lifeguards, a couple from the LA City Guards, Long Beach Guards sent a team I believe, as did Huntington Beach and guard services further south. Lots of spectators gathered for the occasion. Our area Lifeguard Lieutenant, Mike Safonov, who had replaced the retiring Lt. Ted Warren, acted as host, and our one and only captain for the whole county in those days, Rusty Williams, was there to lend his support. George McManus who had worked as a lifeguard since 1909 and was still guarding at this beach was there. Many well known Hollywood actors and writers who called this their home beach and played volleyball with us were all there.

Victory Was Ours

We practiced hard and long and we knew that we were ready now and the day had come and now it was our time. Well, to make a long story short the group above survived the many elimination rounds and as the evening darkness approached they soundly beat the runner-up in the finals, much to the delight of the home crowd.

Top row above: Jack Underwood, Ray Porter, Cal Porter, Don Underwood.
Bottom row: Lt. Mike Safonov, Sam Shargo, Nate Shargo, Tarzan.

This photo made its way into history when it and the great victory were included in the classic, definitive volleyball book, “Sands of Time”, by Art Couvillon. We were famous. (for two or three minutes).

The tournament was never held again; the main reason being that the following year the Los Angeles City Lifeguards commenced operating this beach, and all of us volleyball playing L.A. County Lifeguards scattered north and south, most of us eventually to Zuma Beach. And what happened to our winning trophy? Well it probably went down with the old lighthouse building up the beach a ways that was eventually torn down and had been our lifeguard headquarters where the trophy was on display and where it, the trophy, and the tournament are all now but a memory.

Submitted By Cal Porter on Dec. 12 , 2012

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Lifeguards

IN THE BEGINNING, THE TWO LIFEGUARDS

There were no professional, paid beach lifeguards in all of Santa Monica Bay when I was a small kid, no Los Angeles County, Los Angeles City, or Santa Monica Beach Lifeguards.

There was a scattering of volunteer guards at a few spots during the summer, and there were the private pool lifeguards working the indoor salt water plunges that existed then along the beach from Santa Monica to Redondo, and that was all. Drownings were not uncommon.

With the beaches becoming more popular all the time, finally in 1926 the first two paid beach lifeguards were hired, George Wolf in Venice, after the town became part of the City of Los Angeles, and Jim Reinhard who went to work for Hermosa Beach. Two paid beach lifeguards for Los Angeles County’s entire public beach at that time, about thirty miles of coast, San Pedro to the Malibu City line. Lifeguard Headquarters for George was the Venice Plunge building where the present day skateboard park is, while Jim simply roamed the sands of the South Bay alone, without even a chair or tower to sit in.

Venice Plunge, 1920’s

George Wolf, 1926

Hermosa Beach, 1920’s

Jim Reinhard, 1926

Jim and George were excellent watermen, I knew them both well. I watched George still swimming in lifeguard races at the age of almost forty when they were held at the Olympic Swimming Pool in Los Angeles in the early 1940’s. And Jim lived near me in Malibu; I would bring him to the retired lifeguard reunion we have in Redondo every year. These two could tell some amazing stories of those early days of lifeguarding. Jim passed away a few years ago at the age of ninety-five, George many years earlier. Today, eighty-six years after these two started the whole thing the lifeguard force has grown a little bit. Jim and George were the first of a team of lifeguards to follow that today comprise the Los Angeles County Lifeguard Service, the largest, best equipped, and best trained lifeguard force in the world, with several hundred seasonal and permanent lifeguards making thousands of rescues, and a dozen Baywatch Rescue Boats protecting some seventy miles of beaches.

Submitted By Cal Porter on Nov. 18 , 2012

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Lifeguards

THAT FIRST RESCUE

A lifeguard always remembers his very first ocean rescue. Whether it was a long, dramatic, scary one or just a routine shallow water quickie, it was why you were there, it was what you were trained for and what you were paid to do. You were a lifeguard and when you made that rescue it felt good. My first rescue experience that follows was a real initiation.

It was over seventy years ago, a hot, crowded Sunday at the beach. I was a teenager and had only been working for the Los Angeles City Lifeguards for a week or two and the calm, quiet water had not produced much action. I had been assigned the Navy Street Tower alongside and just south of the old Ocean Park Pier that was demolished some forty years ago after its rebirth as POP. At the time of this story this was the most densely crowded beach in all of Santa Monica Bay due to the drawing power of the popular amusement pier with its three dance halls, two movie theaters, roller coaster, boat shute, games, numerous restaurants, bars and an open air band stand. In this same area today, with the very much wider sandy beach and with all the piers gone, it never seems to get anywhere near that crowded anymore.

Navy Street, Ocean Park

A south swell had finally kicked up some pretty sizeable waves on this particular Sunday, with riptides and an unusually strong lateral current pulling towards the pier. In those days, 1930’s, early 40’s, all the towers were of the little open box variety and had street names not numbers; only a few of the new enclosed towers still have street names. There were lifelines scattered at intervals along the beach, usually at the main towers where the crowds gathered.

These lines were ropes with metal buoys attached for flotation that ran from a post on the beach out to an anchorage some fifty yards or so into the ocean. They were there mainly for fun, and the beachgoers loved to hang on them and make their way hand over hand out into deep water where many of them would never think to venture otherwise. This was usually ok on calm days but when the ocean roughed up a bit it could be a different story with a lot of non-swimmers out there tempting fate. It was impossible to enforce a “no hanging on the lifeline” rule on those rough days with such huge crowds in the water and swimmers drifting with the current from down the beach someplace and ending up grabbing onto the lifeline.

The Lifeline at my Navy Street Tower, Venice Pier in distance.

What we did do on rough, crowded days was to not allow swimmers in the water between the lifeline in the photo above and the pier from which this photo was taken, since the lateral current could easily sweep unsuspecting bathers into the pilings. On this day we had kept the no swim area clear, but dozens of swimmers were hanging on the lifeline all the way to the far end. Then the largest set of waves of the day suddenly appeared from nowhere in the early afternoon, They were much bigger than anything we had seen, and while most of the bathers with a good grip on the line were okay, ten to fifteen were swept off the rope into water well over their heads on the pier side of the line. Five or six of them were going to be able to swim to shore; the others were going to be carried inexorably by the strong lateral current into the waiting, barnacle covered pilings. I grabbed my red rubber rescue tube, knocked the phone off the hook to notify headquarters that help was going to be needed, and headed for the water. The Dudley Street lifeguard, a couple of blocks south, saw the problem and was on a dead run to help. Most of our victims quickly were swept under the pier and were clinging to the pilings for dear life. The other struggling swimmers my partner and I were able to bring to shore before they reached the pier. We were then headed back out for those victims hanging on pilings when the emergency call car arrived. Three veteran lifeguards headed our way to help: Bink Hedberg, who had been a guard since the late 1920’s, and Harry Canaan and Mac McMasters who had both been on since the early 1930’s. These guys knew their stuff.

Call Car Crew, Bink on the Tailgate

Some of our remaining victims, in panic mode, clung onto the pilings and were very reluctant to leave their precarious grip as the waves pounded them, but we convinced them they were in safe hands. It took a good bit of time and back and forth effort but all were finally brought to shore safely. Lots of first aid work ensued with plenty of bloody scratches involved; two were sent off to ER for stitches. And the victims weren’t the only ones scraped up and bloody.

And so ends my first ocean rescue as a beach lifeguard, and what a way to begin. I’m not sure I ever had another quite like that first one even though I worked as a guard for thirty-seven years.

POST SCRIP

Turning out to be more of a hazard than a help, a few years later all the lifelines were removed and became something out of the past. The lifelines on the Venice and Ocean Park Beaches in this story that were located near the street-named towers at Navy Street, Brooks Avenue, Westminster Avenue, and the one between the Venice and Sunset Piers disappeared, never to be seen again.

Westminster Ave. Lifeline

Submitted By Cal Porter on Oct. 29 , 2012

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Lifeguards

ALWAYS A LIFEGUARD

The Premise

I’m not sure how long it takes, how many years are involved, but it happens to almost all of us. And it’s this: If we work a lengthy period of time lifeguarding on the beach, spending those countless hours concentrating, with eyes fixed on watching the water and making numerous rescues, something is etched into our minds that we have no control over, something indelible, and here’s what it amounts to: We have now been hooked and reeled in, we have been brainwashed, we are lifeguards forever. Oh, you can leave beach lifeguarding, go on to other jobs other pursuits, but it’s always there if you lifeguarded long enough, it’s not going to leave you. From now on whenever you find yourself around a body of water, be it a lake, a river or stream, a pool, or the ocean up and down any coast, and there are swimmers out there, it will kick in, it’s automatic, you’re right back to “watching the water”. You can be somewhere by the water just having a fine old time, but then wait a minute, is that kid over there too far out, is that lady okay? You know that feeling, you’re always on duty. And you can even be sitting on a well-guarded beach minding your own business when suddenly, whoa!! That guy needs help, he’s caught in a rip, where’s my rescue can; again it’s an automatic reflex. Ah, but relax , there he goes, the nearby lifeguard is on it, he’s out of his tower and running full speed for the water, stop worrying .

Cal on a rescue, Manhattan Beach, sixty-five years ago

The Examples

I’m sure these experiences of mine are no more significant or different from those of other present or former lifeguards who have spent a lot of time watching the water. I am eighty-eight years old now and I retired from the L.A. County Lifeguards in 1976, thirty-six years ago after guarding for thirty-seven years; and also after a long stretch of being a public school principal. So here are just a couple of experiences happening when I was not on duty as a guard; there are plenty more, and I’m sure others can come up with more exciting ones.

1. Steve Morgan and I were sitting on the private beach near where I live in Malibu after a surfing session on some pretty sizable stuff. Steve is seventy, an L.A. County Guard for over fifty years and still doing it. This was a few years back on a day of big surf with a strong lateral current running. Three young ladies of very poor swimming ability were out over their heads and suddenly were being pulled relentlessly toward disaster and the finger reef that angles out from the beach. Not a word was spoken as Steve and I just took one look at each other and then jumped to our feet on a dead run. Steve swam and I grabbed and paddled my board since there were three of them and we had no rescue equipment. We reached them after bucking some pretty good whitewater and they grabbed the board for dear life and we managed to get them out beyond and past the reef and then eventually back to the beach some distance down the shore. They were shaken but okay. No one on the beach saw or was aware that anything had happened.

Triple Rescue Site

2. Crystal Lake is high in the San Gabriel Mountains, about 7000 feet, a beautiful spot. I took my family up for the day. There were a number of kids in the lake, no lifeguards, and of course, as usual, you can’t help it, you’re “watching the water”. After a while a little girl got out too far, was over her head, and started the familiar non swimmer, straight up and down dog paddle, with face and mouth barely above water. I took off, swam to her, and with the famous cross chest carry, side stroked her back to the beach. She was shook up, about to cry, and I asked the whereabouts of her parents. There they were, nearby, eating lunch and playing cards with another couple, backs to the water. They looked up as we approached and said what happened? I said oh your daughter got out a little too far, I’ll let her tell you about it, and left. A thank you was not forthcoming.

Crystal Lake

3. I’m not sure Jan had ever been on a surfboard before, but what a day she picked to take a paddle. Double overhead stuff had been pushing through all morning and she arrives during a lull, dead calm and peaceful looking. I’m out alone in the lineup; the other two surfers had caught waves and were on the beach ready to paddle back out. Jan starts out toward me, all set for a leisurely paddle and maybe a two foot wave to practice on. As she approaches I see the set of the day far, far outside on the horizon. We’re both going to get caught inside. I holler at her, “Jan, paddle for your life straight out as fast as you can”. And then, almost, but we didn’t make it over the oncoming crusher. Up the crest and then back over the falls for the long drop. She came up sputtering and panicky, not even close to ever being in a situation like this before. I told her I would stay with her and we would make it in but we were going to be hit with a whole series of these fast following waves, maybe bigger. Each time she came up she had that look like this is it, but I would push her board to her to hang on and then stay with her until we were hit again. There must have been a dozen waves in that set but we finally washed onto shore far down the beach. Jan lay there on the sand for a long time trying to get her breath but she was going to be okay. In the distance I saw her boyfriend coming down the trail to the beach so I left her there for him and went back up the beach to go back in the water. Later when I was on the beach the boyfriend paddled out to where the two surfers were. He said to them that Jan was beat and tired, but it was very lucky that guy on the beach was there to rescue his friend and get her safely to the beach. The two surfers took one look at each other and said, “That guy on the beach is over eighty years old”. (Once a lifeguard, always a lifeguard.)

Submitted By Cal Porter on Oct. 29 , 2012

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Lifeguards

A LIFEGUARD, TO BE OR NOT TO BE

Ah, summer is here. That means it’s time for all lifeguards to be on the beach, in full force, in every tower, and ready for business, ready for whatever action comes their way. But how did it happen that we all become beach lifeguards in the first place? Well the answers, of course, are numerous and of great variety. Many of us might have had a background similar to mine. I have always been on the beach; I was born and grew up on the beach, swimming, diving, surfing. Being eighty-eight years old now, I was there before there were any lifeguards on the beach, except in the salt water plunges and a few occasional summer volunteers on the more populated beaches (In the late 1920’s I saw the first professional beach lifeguards appear on the beach). Almost all of us eventual lifeguards first ended up on high school and college swim teams and competed in the sport we loved, and then a natural progression to lifeguarding ensued. But was there anything else; was there someone you admired and looked up to who influenced you, maybe a great coach or lifeguard? I can certainly think of some, all lifeguards in my case; probably you can too, someone who made you want to be a lifeguard. So going way back a lot of years here are just a few of mine.

George Freeth

1910

I guess the best place to start would be with George Freeth. I knew little about him when I was a kid but I knew the name and that his accomplishments were legendary. I learned much more about him later when I was a teenager. He died in 1919, a bit before my time, but I knew people who had known him and had worked with him in those early 1900’s, and they told me all about him. Both George McManus and Christy Miller, who became County Lifeguards when the County was first formed, swam, played water polo and lifeguarded in the salt water plunges with Freeth. On July 3, 1907 Freeth had left his home in Hawaii for new opportunities and adventures on the beaches of Southern California. He was one of Hawaii’s best swimmers and surfers, and later in that month of July he became one of the first surfers in the United States when he rode the waves alongside the rock breakwater in front of the Venice Plunge. In the newspapers he became known as “The Man Who Could Walk on Water”, since most of the spectators had never seen or heard of anything like this before. He became a lifeguard at the plunges in Redondo and Venice, and he accomplished something never done before. Freeth organized and was captain of the first ever volunteer lifeguard force on the beach; there were no paid beach lifeguards then or any others at that time. In addition, he invented a great many lifesaving devices, forerunners of many used today. Among his numerous rescues, he received the United States Congressional Gold Medal of Honor for single-handedly rescuing seven fishermen from three overturned boats far from shore on a cold, stormy December day. He made many trips and was in the icy water for two and a half hours. This was a man to admire. Who wouldn’t want to be a lifeguard like George Freeth.

Wally O’Connor

1924

I got to know Wally O’Connor quite well when I was a teenager. In 1943 he and I were the last to ever swim in the Venice Plunge that he had known all his life. The plunge was condemned, boarded up and slated for demolition. We sneaked in a nailed up entrance just to be able to say that we were the last to swim in the pool that had been there since 1906, and where we both had been lifeguards. Wally was also an outstanding Los Angeles City Beach Lifeguard and former Venice High School swimmer where I went. He had accomplished something no other athlete had ever done at that time, he qualified and participated in five consecutive Olympic Games as a swimmer and water polo player; 1924, 1928, 1932, 1936 and 1940, the last of which was cancelled for World War II. He was the captain of each of these water polo teams and was the flag bearer in the 1936 Berlin Games, refusing to dip the American Flag toward Adolph Hitler. In 1924 his Olympic swimming medal was gold. He is rated as the greatest water polo player of all time. He also won several national championships as a Stanford University swimmer, and led the water polo team to four straight Pac 8 titles. He is in the Hall of Fame as the number 1 water polo player. He was quite an influence on this teenager.

George Wolf

1925

George Wolf holds a unique record in the history of lifeguarding. He was an outstanding swimmer, and in 1925 he became the first and only paid, professional lifeguard on the Los Angeles County Beaches in all of Santa Monica Bay. Before this time any lifesaving that was done was by volunteers who were not always available or well trained, resulting in many drownings. That first year George by himself covered an area of several miles from Ocean Park all the way to El Segundo Beach. He was the first of a team of lifeguards to follow that today comprise the Los Angeles County Lifeguard Service, the largest, best equipped, and best trained lifeguard force in the world with more than 700 lifeguards and a dozen Baywatch Rescue Boats protecting seventy miles of beaches. As a teenager I knew George and his brother Paul, a lifeguard, and Olympic swimmer, and I loved to hear their stories of those very early days of lifeguarding.

George McManus

1920’s, George at bottom, O’Connor next

Mac, as he was called, lived in Venice, California all of his life. I first met him in the late 1930’s when I was a lifeguard in the Venice Plunge and he would come there to work out after his shift on the beach as a Los Angeles County Lifeguard at Will Rogers State Beach. He encouraged me to be a beach guard, and later I worked with him for many years when I was a County Guard myself. In 1909 he was working as a lifeguard at the Plunge when the Venice Water Polo Team was formed with Mac as a member. On that team and also lifeguarding there was George Freeth. Freeth was his friend. For me, just knowing somebody who actually had known George Freeth and could talk about him and those old days was an inspiration to me. Mac also knew and swam with Johnny Weissmuller (movie Tarzan, and arguably the greatest swimmer of all time) and Duke Kahanamoku. Mac was in on some hair raising inland river rescues and also doubled as a fire fighter along the waterfront. Another colorful part of George McManus’s life was as a gondolier. On his time off from lifeguarding he would row the tourists along the many Venice canal waterways that existed at that time right through Venice town and are now gone. Mac joined the Los Angeles County Lifeguards the year it was formed, and retired from the force during his last assignment at Zuma Beach after working as a lifeguard since 1908, nearly fifty years.

Pete Peterson

There were so many other watermen that I could mention that were inspirational to us young aquatic hopefuls back in those days and Pete Peterson was definitely one. He was a Santa Monica Lifeguard from the day the group was formed. He worked out in the Venice Plunge when I was a high school lifeguard there, and where I first knew him and looked up to him. He was the greatest all-around waterman of his era. He could do it all. He was the best surfer, a great swimmer and free diver, and an aquatic stunt man better than any. Repairing my surfboards for me didn’t hurt either.

Pete, reshaping a 1930’s balsa-redwood.

There are many others that could be mentioned, but just those that I knew and described above would be enough to inspire and convince any kid that he wanted to follow in their aquatic footsteps; we wanted to be just like them.

My two brothers and I all became Los Angeles County Beach Lifeguards.

Submitted By Cal Porter on June 19 , 2012

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Lifeguards

JUST ANOTHER RESCUE??

It was the summer of 1952, maybe 1953. I had finished the night lifeguard shift at Zuma Beach, and after breakfast at home I headed for the private beach at Malibu Colony where I would give swimming lessons and then lifeguard there for the day. The gate-guarded Colony was a pleasant place to work, teaching eager kids to swim, watching over them in the ocean, and organizing activities for them, volleyball, sand games, water sports. And then, as a bonus, there was always the occasional movie star that would stop by to sit and chat. This particular day was much like any other day there, sunny and warm, a good day for swimming. The surf had increased a bit from previous days, however, but nothing at all treacherous. Of course there was the occasional rescue to be made here on this beach, usually a child whose bravery outstripped his swimming ability; nothing on the order of the churning, rip tide rescues of Zuma Beach. The lifeguard sat on the sand or on a beach chair, and under an umbrella if needed, much like any other beach goer on this very private stretch of sand. And it wasn’t unusual around noon time to welcome an offer from a nice resident of a gourmet sandwich and a cold drink of some kind for lunch break, usually served by the maid, of course. A most pleasant place to work.

The Colony

There was only one doctor in Malibu in those days, almost sixty years ago. Most people traveled to Santa Monica or Los Angeles for medical or dental care. Doctor Peter Salisbury lived in the Colony and his office was nearby. He would take any patients who came to him with their usual great variety of complaints but he was mainly a medical research genius and cardiologist, but he turned no one away. The doctor would often take a short mid-morning workout swim, never venturing far from shore or overestimating his swimming capabilities. But this day was going to be different, he had his eye on those rocks protruding from the sea some distance out, beckoning to him to give it a try. It wasn’t really a long swim but I had never seen him attempt to swim that far out before. Locals referred to these rocks as “Old Joe’s” named for a long time surfer and resident of the Colony. I frequently visited the rocks myself in the early morning hours where I would dive to a couple of my favorite, narrow caves on the ocean floor to pick up a lobster or two for a family dinner or to deliver to a resident who had requested the tasty crustaceans. But the doctor never came close to swimming that far, but now there he was, on his way. I watched him carefully since the surf was picking up considerably after he managed to swim out there during a lull. He never reached the rocks. Somewhat short of that destination he turned back towards shore starting to look tired, and now I was up and on my way. You don’t want to embarrass a swimmer who doesn’t need your help but he was going to need help. When I reached him the doc was in panic mode, tired, dog paddling and flailing about in an attempt to keep his head above water. I got to him with the rescue float and hung onto him while he calmed down and caught his breath, and then I told him to hold on to the ropes as tight as he could while I towed him back through the breaking surf to the beach. He sat on the dry sand for some time resting, then I walked with him back toward the houses where he said he thought he could make it home from there. He had said very little that day but the next day he appeared at my lifeguard post, said thank you, and handed me twenty-five dollars (about two or three hundred in today’s money). I explained that I couldn’t accept the money, that I was paid as a lifeguard to do the job. He said something to the effect that I would have to throw it in the ocean then because he was not taking it back. He then turned and headed back toward the houses. Okay, just another routine rescue, nothing spectacular, end of story. Or was it?

From the arrow to the rocks, the attempted swim.

Now the rest of the story. It is sixty years later, and the year is 2011. On the computer’s “Facebook” the doctor’s daughter, Ann, who was a tiny girl at the time of the rescue, inserted an old photo of her father taken on the beach about that time. By accident I ran across the photo, and then below, where comments can be made, I briefly mentioned that I had one time brought him back to the beach when he swam out too far. Well that started it. Her first and immediate comment back to me after she read my statement was as follows: “WOWWOWWOWWOWWOWWOW!”. Six Wows. She knew all about the rescue but she was very young at the time and never knew who the lifeguard was during all those ensuing years. We began to comment back and forth on Facebook at some length for many days about the incident, and then I made another contact with her to see if it would be alright if I used actual names and some of her quotes in this little story, instead of just paraphrasing, which would allow me to proceed with the following to go along with the six “wows”. Of course, Ann said.

“I cannot tell you how wonderful it feels to connect with the man who saved my dad. I know for a fact that he could not have made it back to shore without you”. “This touches my heart, Cal. If it weren’t for you, I might not have had my dad with me until he died when I was sixteen”. “He had invented the artificial heart-lung and artificial kidney machines. So you didn’t just save the life of one man or one father, but probably hundreds of thousands of others whose lives are being prolonged today via dialysis. Cal, thanks from the bottom of my heart”.

How does that make an ancient, eighty-seven year old lifeguard feel? Hey, not too bad!

Submitted By Cal Porter on Oct. 26 , 2011

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Lifeguards

A CASTLE ROCK STORY

It happened in the early morning of December 16, 1935, and it involved the building in this photo at 17575 Pacific Coast Highway at Castle Rock Beach, just north of Sunset Boulevard. The building was owned and lived in by Thelma Todd, a beautiful and famous young movie actress of the late 1920’s and early 30’s. The building is there to this day. Vivacious Thelma lived in a luxury apartment on the upper floor, where she was known to entertain many a gentleman admirer according to the movie magazines. On the second floor was the dance hall and band stand. On the bottom floor was her own racy roadhouse called, “Thelma Todd’s Sidewalk Café”, a hangout for the A list movie crowd where a drink was easy to come by even in those days of prohibition. Her name is visible on the wall in the 1930’s photo above.

Thelma

Directly across the highway from her place was the sandy beach and the county lifeguard tower. The tower was of the small, open box type standing on four legs that was common up and down the beaches in those days, unlike the enclosed, more substantial and functional towers seen on the beaches today. The lifeguard stationed at Castle Rock in 1935 was Christy Miller. Christy had been with the Los Angeles County Lifeguard crew year around since its inception some years earlier, and he staunchly maintained that Thelma had never invited him across the street for a visit, although she did chat him up on the beach occasionally. Christy and George McManus, who was the lifeguard down the beach a ways at Santa Monica Canyon, had been lifeguards since 1910, mainly at the old Venice Salt Water Plunge where they knew and swam with George Freeth who introduced surfing to California in 1907. I had known these two since the late 30’s when I was a lifeguard at the plunge and they were still putting in a day or an evening now and then working there. The lieutenant in charge of the Will Rogers Beach area at that time was Ted Warren who worked out of the old lighthouse building that stood where the lifeguard headquarters is today. I became a lifeguard in 1939 but didn’t work for Lt. Warren at Castle Rock until 1946, where I soon learned from Christy what happened across the street on that morning in 1935.

Groucho Marx and Thelma in Monkey Business, 1931

It was a Sunday morning when Christy arrived at his lifeguard tower, a quiet, winter day with no one on the beach. Later that morning towards noon he noticed increasing activity across the street at Thelma’s building, with policeman and plainclothes types evident. It wasn’t too unusual that official interest was occasionally shown toward Thelma’s roadhouse where she lived with her director, Roland West, but had on the side, as her current boyfriend, gangster Charles “Lucky” Luciano. The word was out that Lucky was running an illicit gambling operation at Thelma’s, along with other questionable activities. Later that afternoon Christy inquired and was able to learn the facts. The night before, Thelma had been doing some serious drinking at the Hollywood Trocadero and other watering holes, which was a usual evening out for her in her riotous private life. The studio even provided her with a chauffeur and car to make sure their valuable star always made it home in one piece. Ernest, the chauffeur of the studio’s Lincoln Phaeton Touring Car that she always used, was questioned later and reported that he had dropped her off at her building between 3:15 and 3:30 in the morning and went on his way. At 10:30 that morning as the maid went up to clean the apartment she glanced into the garage. There slumped dead under the steering wheel of her Packard Convertible lay Thelma in her mink coat and diamond jewellery with her face bloodied and bruised. So why was she in her car, and why in the passenger’s seat not the driver’s, had she suffered an accident, was it suicide, or had one of her many ardent and jealous suitors or enemies committed murder? The autopsy found that her blood alcohol was way above the legal limit, “enough to stupefy” said the report. The lengthy grand jury investigation yielded conflicting results, but they eventually decided to just rule Thelma’s death a suicide since there was no definite evidence to rule otherwise. No one believed that. The death of Thelma Todd was one of Hollywood’s great, unsolved mysteries and that mystery lingers to this day. When I worked that Castle Rock lifeguard tower, and even to this day as I drive by the building on Pacific Coast Highway, I always cast a glance at Thelma’s place and think about the story told to me by lifeguard Christy Miller now over sixty-five years ago.

Thelma’s Place today, mostly unchanged.

Thelma Todd was only 29 years old. Between 1926 and 1935 she appeared in over one hundred movies, starring in most of them. During those Hollywood years, when she lived her life for all it was worth, Thelma gave herself a label, a nickname, “Hot Toddy”.

Submitted By Cal Porter on Oct. 12 , 2011

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Lifeguards

Early Lifeguards and Old Friends

The 1922 photo I used recently in the story, “The Flood”, is to me of great historical interest, but probably of very little interest to anyone else, except perhaps a handful of fellow lifeguard history buffs. Although the photo was taken two years before I was born, in later years I became acquainted with all of these fellows when I, too, joined their ranks of Lifeguard in the year 1939.

Christy Mac 1922

The Lifeguard Crew, Venice Plunge

Christy 1946 Mac

The County Crew, Santa Monica Canyon, (me, back right)

This was the 1922 crew of the Venice Salt Water Plunge, built by Abbott Kinney, the founder of Venice, in the days long before there were paid city or county beach lifeguards. There was, however, back then, an unpaid, volunteer beach lifeguard group that was sometimes in evidence but most times not, so the plunge mostly provided its own beach lifeguard, with backup, if needed, from the crew of four or five guards inside watching the usually very crowded pool. As evidence that the plunge guards also guarded the beach and ocean in those early days, the photo above shows the open air tower on the beach in front of the plunge with equipment labeled “Venice Bath House”. In chatting with Mac, above in the photo, during the 1940’s when we guarded together at State beach, he mentioned that the rescues there were numerous since many of those early ocean bathers were non-swimmers. The beach was private down to the mean high tide line but plenty of non-customers drifted over to use the beach due to the availability of renting umbrellas, chairs and towels, and the immaculate cleanliness of the sand, all of this made possible in my day by us fabulous beach boys (before I attained the status of lifeguard). In 1926 the Los Angeles City Lifeguard Force was formed consisting of one man, George Wolf, with about fifteen miles of beach on his hands. He was headquartered at the plunge. The force grew rapidly in ensuing years though and soon a city lifeguard was stationed at the new Westminster Ave. tower on the beach adjacent to the Venice Plunge eliminating the need for a plunge guard out there. However, the plunge guards continued to keep an eye on things out front, especially in the winter months when the nearest city guard was stationed several blocks away at the Brooks Ave. Hdqrts.

Two of the men in the photo above became Los Angeles County Lifeguards when the force was established in 1930. One was George “Mac” McManus at the bottom of the photo, the lifeguard involved in the 1910 San Gabriel River rescue. The other was Christy Miller at the top left. Both of these men became lifeguards at the Venice Plunge soon after it was built on the sand in 1907, where the new Venice Skateboard Park is now. Both also were 45 years old when they became L.A.County Guards in 1930, the County wanting a nucleus of men with experience on the new squad. Both also spent almost their entire county service at Will Rogers State Beach, Mac at Santa Monica Canyon and Christy at Castle Rock. Lucky for those of us working the area, Christy’s wife was the manager of Ted’s Café across the street from the headquarters resulting in many a free or reasonably priced meal for hungry lifeguards. Their last two years before retirement were spent at Zuma Beach after the City of L.A. took over the operation of Will Rogers from the County in 1949.

The guard in the photo just above Mac, I have been told, was Wally O’Connor (I didn’t know him until much later when he was older in the 1940’s). Wally became an L.A. City Guard later and was the swimmer who was called the greatest water polo player of all times, having participated and been captain in four Olympic Games. He was the flag bearer for the U.S. in the 1936 Berlin Games refusing to dip the flag while passing before Adolph Hitler.

photo: Art Verges' "Los Angeles County Lifeguards"

I knew all the others in the photo. Frank Rivas, second from top right, was the chief lifeguard at the plunge through the years and hired me as a guard there in 1939 after watching me in many of our Venice High School swimming meets. The pay was 35 cents an hour. Incidentally, we seldom lost a swimming meet in our big, warm, salt water plunge against teams coming from their little cold, fresh water tanks. During the time I worked the plunge the L.A. City Guards were out front taking care of the beach and ocean. However, we could see out the large plate glass windows what was going on out there and we did run out to help once in a while if needed because many of the victims were our people out of the plunge. While I guarded there, County Guard Christy Miller worked the evening shift at the plunge after finishing his day shift at Will Rogers. Elmer Orr, top right, gazing out to sea, was the pool’s long time lifeguard, swimming instructor. Lifeguards from all over the bay area would come to the plunge for their workouts, County, City, Santa Monica and others. After a couple of years, when I was old enough, I left the plunge and became an L.A. City Lifeguard myself, enjoying a raise to 75 cents an hour.

It was a sad day when the plunge was condemned and torn down in 1943, the end of the many salt water plunges along the coast. Olympian, Wally O’Connor, and I were the last to ever swim in the old Venice Plunge, sneaking in one late afternoon, for old time’s sake, long after the building had been locked, boarded up and waiting for its demise.

photos unless noted are from the Cal Porter collection

Submitted By Cal Porter on March 17 , 2011

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Lifeguards

THE GREAT FLOOD

In a previous story the 1911 flooding of the San Gabriel River was covered, and with it the dramatic rescue by lifeguards of a family of three when their house was surrounded by the flood waters. A couple of readers wondered if that was the biggest flooding ever in this area, and whether lifeguards were again involved.

I remember the worst flooding ever in the greater Los Angeles area and along the beach. It was called “The Great Flood of 1938” when rivers and waterways everywhere in three counties overflowed their banks after storms swept in from the sea dropping more than ten inches of continuous rain for four days, February 27 to March 2. Roads, buildings and bridges were destroyed. Over a hundred people perished, 5000 homes were lost, 800 cars were stranded. The lifeguards are always deeply involved when flooding occurs. Each day the guards were kept busy rescuing people stranded in homes and cars. I was there and saw the action, although I didn’t become a lifeguard myself until the following year, 1939. I watched the Venice Lifeguards covering the area towing dories behind the emergency trucks and getting people out of trouble. “Venice, instead of a city with canals looked like one huge lake” said the L.A Times.

L.A. City Lifeguard Captain Babe Dillon at the Wheel

photo "Los Angeles County Lifeguards" author Art Verge

Venice 1938

While Venice and Ocean Park were flooded, the city of Santa Monica was relatively high and dry. The flooding and damage was everywhere, however, in the low lying beach areas or wherever an outlet flowed into the ocean. I went up to check on one of my favorite surfing beaches where in a few years I would become a lifeguard.

The Lifeguard Station above at SM Canyon, where I later worked, barely escaped destruction when the 1938 flood swirled around it.

The station is still there beyond the X alongside the above.

Rescuing people from a flooded building near SM Canyon Beach

Lifeguards in black with white caps.

Submitted By Cal Porter on March 07 , 2011

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Lifeguards

THE RESCUE

When old beach lifeguards get together, as we often do, they frequently discuss dramatic rescues out of the past, with, of course, great exaggeration and added color. Recently the subject of inland rescues came up, when beach lifeguards are rushed inland to a distant lake, flood, river, or other waterway to effect a rescue of a person or group of people. After some discussion one of our bunch came up with what he stated was the first time lifeguards were ever taken off the beach to help with an inland problem. It was over fifty years ago, 1952 to be exact, and was at a flooded area of Los Angeles during a fierce rainstorm. I had to disagree since my memory recalled being told of a dramatic incident long before that time.

The first time ever that beach lifeguards were called on to make inland, swift water rescues involved George “Mac” McManus who worked for the Los Angeles County Lifeguards from the first day the guard service was established in 1930 until his retirement at Zuma Beach in the 50’s.

Mac, bottom, with fellow Venice Plunge Lifeguards, 1922

The year was 1911, long before the bursting dam at Baldwin Hills or the San Fernando overflow problems mentioned by the group above. It was the year of “The Great San Gabriel River Flood” out in the Azusa, Glendora area, some forty or so miles from the beach. After days of rain the river was swollen and overflowing its banks threatening homes and people. The sheriff’s department was summoned for help with the disaster. They grabbed the only two capable watermen they knew of, Mac, who was 26 years old at the time, and his fellow lifeguard, both of whom were working in the old Venice Saltwater Plunge on the beach. This was 1911 when paid lifeguards had only been around for about four years starting with George Freeth at the Redondo Plunge in 1907. Arriving at the scene, after towing a skiff with a couple of paddles behind the sheriff’s early vintage car, they were helping many people to safety when they saw in the middle of the torrent a house surrounded by water with a family of three desperately calling for help. Mac and his fellow lifeguard went into action and launched the skiff far upriver above the threatened house hoping to be able to hit the trouble spot before the house and family were swept away. Right on target they were able to grab and pull the family of three into the boat and off down the rapids they went. Soon after, the house was inundated. After fighting the current down the river for over a mile and keeping the boat right side up they were able to reach the river bank, beach the skiff, and help the parents and child to safety; a job well done.

The Flooding San Gabriel River

Chatting with Mac at State Beach, Santa Monica Canyon, where we both lifeguarded back in the 1940’s, he told me that this was certainly the most dramatic event of his long career as a lifeguard. But then he told me of the time that, in 1914, as a lifeguard, he was fighting a raging fire on top of a Venice waterfront hotel, The Metropole, when the roof gave way almost plunging him into the fire. But that’s another story.

Photo's unless noted are from the Cal Porter collection

Submitted By Cal Porter on Feb. 22 , 2011

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Lifeguards

About Big Wednesday

The surf film, Big Wednesday, was released in May of 1978, and it was a huge cut above the Hollywood surf films that preceded it, especially when compared to the pretty awful 1960’s beach party films. It contained great surfing cinematography showing some fine footage of the world champion surfers who did the stunt doubling. The film loosely follows the lives of three surfer friends through a dozen years of their lives with the backdrop of what is now called Malibu Surfrider Beach. The three are Matt, a self-destructive type, Jack, more of a calm, thinker type, and Leroy, who is a bit off-the-wall.

Leroy – Jack - Matt

In the early part of the movie the three friends apparently are surfing at Malibu before the State of California takes over this unsupervised, no laws stretch of beach where “anything goes” is the rule, with fires and cooking on the beach, camping, renting out equipment, drinking, and wild parties. After the Gidget era in the late 50’s the beach became so popular the State stepped in with a purchase and turned the area over to the Los Angeles County Lifeguards to operate, no small task. The last thing these surfers wanted was someone telling them what they could and could not do on their terrain. Since I had worked as an L.A. County Lifeguard for a good many years and had surfed Malibu since the late 1930’s, the decision was made to send me there temporarily during the adjustment period as the first lifeguard since I knew a lot of the guys and they knew me. The theory was that maybe they wouldn’t throw me in the ocean and beat me up, at least not too badly, and it pretty much worked out that way. In Big Wednesday the choice for the roll of the first Malibu Lifeguard went to William Katt, Jack in the film, a lean, blond actor. I have no reason to believe that the character of Jack was in any way patterned after me, any resemblance was strictly coincidental, and the comparison here is solely for my own delusion and diversion.

Jack First Lifeguard

The writers of the film were Denny Aaberg and John Milius, who also directed Big Wednesday. They were both Malibu surfers in the old days and on through the transition period when I was there. The film is somewhat based on their own personal experiences there. If I recall correctly in the film, Jack the lifeguard had to enforce the new beach rules even against his old buddy Matt when the latter was found wanting in the matter of alcohol, among other problems, and fisticuffs ensued.

Jack Lifeguard

In the dozen years that pass in this movie a lot of ground is covered. There are lots of parties and drinking, there are marriages, pregnancies, and separations, there’s homelessness, and avoiding or not avoiding the Vietnam War Draft, there are some falling outs and getting back togethers, growing older and all that. In the end, however, the three friends do get back together and challenge the biggest surf to ever hit the coast. Though older now, out in the water they go and they’re still pretty great out there, even though Matt almost drowns. They realize, though, that there is a new kid out there better than any of them ever were, Hawaiian, Jerry Lopez. So out of the water they come, feeling good, and in the end they leave the beach together knowing their time has passed, they leave the memories of their youth and that age of innocence that is gone forever.

Jack Lifeguard

Submitted By Cal Porter on Jan. 05 , 2011

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Lifeguards

ON THE BEACH OR SOME USELESS INFORMATION FROM THE PAST

The year was 1946, World War 2 was over, getting back to normal and business as usual was in the air. Matters that had been set aside for years now came to the forefront and seemed important once more, however trivial they were.

For example, a new summer uniform for the Los Angeles County Beach Lifeguards was proposed; get the new era off with a bang, a fresh start and all that. Something that would loudly say, “lifeguard”, “here he comes”; something that stood out, set him aside, an outfit that could be seen at some distance. For years lifeguard uniforms had not been very uniform, more of a drab, hodge-podge of dungaree or sweat shirt type of material, with maybe the pants or trunks not a match with the jacket. Of course the swim trunks were a different matter, they had always been fire engine red with a lifeguard emblem stitched or printed usually on the lower left side. It was tradition, no one would dare tamper with that time honored custom. Or would they?

The Gantner Swimwear Company had been in business since 1892, making everything that was fit to wear on the beach or in the water. The company was going strong in the 1940’s and they still are today well over a hundred years since its founding. After seeing some of their imaginative creations of the past, that we’d all be proud and excited to wear, it was no wonder that our beach higher-ups chose the Gantner Company to create our new look.

Gantner Men’s trunks, 1920’s 1940's

Ideas were sent post haste to Gantner, filling the company in on just what was in mind for our new summer look. Something different, something that would stand out from the crowd, something that would say, “Now there’s a lifeguard”! The company went right to work, summer was almost here, and it wasn’t long before the new trunks and jacket creation was ready for viewing. But who should Gantner drape this new outfit on so they could take publicity photographs of him and show what the modern lifeguard would be wearing these days. Ah, no problem, says the female Gantner Rep., instead of one of our regular models let’s just use that skinny, lifeguard guy. So with her telling me where and how to stand, where to put my hands and which way to look, all in front of the Gantner sign of course, the photographer started to click away and we were off and running. Wow! Yellow trunks instead of red, now there’s a big change, and a fluorescent orange jacket that would hurt your eyes if you looked directly at it in the sun, oh it was different alright; there’s no doubt people would see us coming. Later when I saw the photos with the stance the director put me in, hands on hips and all, I wondered if she had worked mainly with the distaff side in this modeling business before this session.

The Color Shot The Black and White

Well, that took care of that summer and on into the next, and it was a good experiment, but it wasn’t long before we went back to the red trunks combined with a somber, brown khaki type jacket. But now with that all over with, winter would be coming on before long, so it was back to the drawing board and time to think about a new winter uniform. How about something in a dark, navy blue serge material of some sort with labels on the shoulders? Ok, fine, agreement was reached, so work was started on the suit and it wasn’t long before it was ready to be shown. So now the question for the manufacturer was, who do we use as a model, get him into the proper pose, and photograph him in this thing so everyone can have a look at it?

The End.

All photo's are from the private collection of Cal Porter

Submitted By Cal Porter on Nov. 09 , 2010

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Lifeguards

IN THE BEGINNING, THE LIFEGUARD

When I was a kid growing up along the Santa Monica Bay Beaches there were no lifeguard stations or lifeguard towers on the sand anywhere, while today they are lined up in abundance. Why? Because there were no lifeguards. You were on your own when you swam in the Pacific Ocean. It wasn’t because there were very few swimmers back in the early 1920’s. On the contrary the beaches and ocean were crowded with bathers as can be attested to by the photo below.

Venice – Ocean Park Beach in the 1920’s

The beaches were just as busy or even busier back then as they are today. The beach was a close-by recreation destination in the days before more distant travel was not as easy as it is now. Crowds would flock to the beach on the big, red electric streetcars or in the family Model T Ford. Drownings were fairly commonplace. With no lifeguards eighteen swimmers drowned over one weekend in Newport Beach. In 1918 thirteen people drowned in one day off the beach in San Diego. There were lifeguards in those days but they weren’t on the beach, they worked inside the many salt water plunges that dotted the coastline. Sometimes a worried beach goer who spotted trouble would summon these lifeguards to leave their posts and come outside to effect an ocean rescue. By the time this information was communicated it was often too late; ocean rescues have to be made fast. A few beaches had a gong or a bell out on the sand that could be clanged upon, the noise notifying the indoor plunge guards, if they heard it, that there was trouble afoot. Of course there was always a small boy or two who might just clang the bell to set off a bit of action. Then there were some attempts to form unpaid, volunteer lifeguard forces but they weren’t found on many beaches.

Plunge Lifeguards, 1920’s

In 1925 two of the beach cities of Santa Monica Bay finally decided the time had come to protect the swimmers that flocked to the sands by the thousands, and also the tourist dollars that followed. That year Hermosa Beach hired as its first ever paid beach lifeguard, Jim Reinhard, and Venice Beach employed George Wolf as its first lifeguard, a couple of strong, former school team swimmers. The other beach towns would soon follow. All alone that first year, Jim and George had miles of beach to cover, and with primitive equipment, and not even a tower to sit in. George at first worked out of the Venice Plunge while Jim simply walked the Hermosa sands.

Wolf 1925 Reinhard

By the late 1920’s and early 1930’s all the beach towns in the bay realized the need for lifeguard protection and formed their own small crews, but eventually three entities emerged to cover the fifty miles of coastline from San Pedro in the south to the Ventura County line to the north: the Los Angeles County Lifeguard Service, the Los Angeles City Lifeguards and the Santa Monica Lifeguards. Each soon had its own headquarters building but the locations changed through the years and the buildings became more substantial and modern as time went on.

The first Santa Monica Hdqtrs, 1932, The first L.A. City Hdqtrs on the at the corner of the now Casa Del Mar Hotel Beach, Brooks St., Venice 1927

The first L.A. County Hdqtrs was on

the Hermosa Beach Pier, photo 1940’s The first lifeguard towers, late 1920’s

In the 1970’s the three lifeguard forces finally merged into one: The Los Angeles County Lifeguards, the largest, best equipped and best trained in the world. They protect over seventy miles of beaches twenty-four hours a day, including Catalina Island. Thousands of rescues are made each year; a drowning is a very rare occurrence.

I knew these two 1925, first beach lifeguards, Jim Reinhard and George Wolf quite well. Jim lived near me and passed away a few years ago at the age of ninety-five. I loved hearing the stories they would tell of those early days on the beach. I am wondering now why I never thought to ask them what their wages were as beach lifeguards in 1925. And I wonder if they could top the thirty-five cents an hour I earned as a Venice Plunge Lifeguard at the end of great depression in the late 1930’s, or the huge seventy-five cents per hour I made as a Los Angeles City Beach Lifeguard soon after.

Unless noted all photos courtesy of the Cal Porter collection

Submitted By Cal Porter on Sept. 22 , 2010

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Lifeguards

The Return of the Lifeguard

Last night I dreamt of the lobsters again. I was once more under the sea and the water was warm and the water was clear. And below me lined up in abundance I saw that they were all there, beneath the rock crevice on the ocean floor. And of all sizes they were, from the big bulls to the juveniles, and in my dream they were waiting for me and hoping that I would come. And I wanted to spend a while with them at the bottom of the sea, and I lingered for a bit enjoying their welcome as time passed imperceptibly. And then after some passage of that time I knew they would help me and it would soon take little effort to fill the bag attached to the float that was drifting above, dancing between ocean and sky. And then too soon the dream is over. And the dream was good.

In another dream one night I am diving again. As I approach the sea floor I see that the abalone are many. The whites, the reds, the pinks, the greens are all there for me in this my long ago day under the sea. They are crowded together on the reefs, sometimes one upon another. And in my dream as with the lobsters I know they want me to stay with them for a while and enjoy their company and this I do. And then afterwards, with each dive, with each held breath, I bring two or three to the surface, and soon many have joined me above and I have what I want. The dream is over. And the dream was good.

photo source: UCSB photo source: eebweb.arizona.edu

It is true that older people often dream of pleasant memories of their younger days. In Ernest Hemmingway’s, The Old Man and the Sea, when Santiago sleeps he always returns to his dream of lions at play on the beaches of Africa, something he witnessed in his youth as a sailor in those waters. And in the famous opening line of Daphne du Maurier’s novel, Rebecca, “Last Night I Dreamt I Go to Manderley Again”, the former mistress of this beautiful mansion on the English Coast brings up memories of her first sight of Manderley with her new husband. Literature is full of allusions to the dreams of former times. And there is one dream of mine that reoccurs often, and far more often than any other.

I am sitting in my lifeguard tower. I am in no certain tower or area, it is probably a compilation of many of them, or all of them. And I am older, retired for thirty-five years now, but still I am needed badly on the beach once again in a crucial situation. I have been earnestly and desperately requested to return to duty in a position which perhaps only I can handle. I am needed. I could not refuse this summons. And the sun is hot and the surf is strong. The crowd is swelling to capacity. The water is dense with humanity. The whiteflowing riptides are beautiful but are now showing their strength and their trickery as they await their prey. We must show them our respect but we must also show our power over them. And as I watch I see around me the faces that I worked with those many years ago. And on this day we will affect many spectacular and miraculous rescues, and the comradery will run high. And all day I am running and swimming faster than I did sixty or seventy years ago. The years have disappeared. There is no question of becoming weary, it will not happen. And then the dream is over. And the dream was good.

A riptide A tower

photo source: watchthewater.org

The dream is over for now, but I’m not concerned, the dream will return. It always does.

Unless noted, all photos courtesy of the Cal Porter collection.

Submitted By Cal Porter on June 26 , 2010

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Lifeguards

THE WATERMEN OF VENICE, CALIFORNIA

I suppose that it was not at all unusual that my two brothers and I would become swimmers and lifeguards some day. So many from the Venice area and Venice High School did just that. Actually we lived a couple of miles south of Venice on the beach at Playa del Rey but we went to elementary, junior high and high school in Venice. In addition we spent a good deal of our time swimming and surfing on the beaches of Venice where all of our friends were. And when we were not on the beach you would find us swimming in the Venice Salt Water Plunge which was on the sand next to the Venice Amusement Pier. Since we were in the water all the time it was only natural that we eventually became members of the Venice High School Swimming and Water Polo Teams which held forth at the Venice Plunge. We were seldom beaten in that warm salt water element, and I became a lifeguard there while still in high school. We also had a good many older heroes in the Venice area to look up to, admire, and try to emulate in the aquatic field, they left a lasting impression. Here are just a few.

Venice Plunge

George Freeth
I guess the best place to start would be with George Freeth. I knew little about him when I was a kid but I knew the name and that his accomplishments were legendary. I learned much more about him later when I was older. He died in 1919, a bit before my time, but I knew people who had known him and had worked with him in those early 1900’s, and they would talk to me about him. On July 3, 1907 Freeth left his home in Hawaii for new opportunities and adventures on the beaches of Southern California. He was one of Hawaii’s best swimmers and surfers, and later in that month of July he became, most likely, the first surfer in the United States when he rode the waves alongside the rock breakwater in front of the Venice Plunge. In the newspapers he became known as “The Man Who Could Walk on Water”, since most of the spectators had never seen or heard of anything like this before. He became a lifeguard at the plunges in Redondo and Venice, and he accomplished something never done before. Freeth organized and was captain of the first ever volunteer lifeguard force on the beach; there were no paid beach lifeguards then or any others at that time. In addition, he invented a great many lifesaving devices. He also received the United States Congressional Gold Medal of Honor for single-handedly rescuing seven fishermen from three overturned boats far from shore on a cold, stormy December day. He was in the icy water for two and a half hours. This was a man to admire.

Freeth, 1910

Wally O’Connor
I got to know Wally O’Connor quite well when I was a teenager. He and I were the last to ever swim in the Venice Plunge that he had known all his life. The plunge was condemned, boarded up and slated for demolition. We sneaked in a nailed up entrance just to be able to say that we were the last to swim in the pool that had been there since 1906, and where we both had been lifeguards. Wally was also a Venice Beach Lifeguard and former Venice High swimmer. He had accomplished something no other athlete had ever done at that time, he qualified and participated in five consecutive Olympic Games as a swimmer and water polo player; 1924, 1928, 1932, 1936 and 1940, the last of which was cancelled for World War II. He was the captain of each of these water polo teams and was the flag bearer in the 1936 Berlin Games, refusing to dip the American Flag toward Adolph Hitler. In 1924 his Olympic swimming medal was gold. He is rated as the greatest water polo player of all time. He also won several national championships as a Stanford University swimmer. He is in the Hall of Fame as the number 1 water polo player. He was quite an influence on this teenager.

The United States Water Polo Team
In 1932 the Southern California Water Polo Team made up mostly of Venice and former Venice High School swimmers won the West Coast Championships. That same year the majority of the U.S. Water Polo Team for the 1932 Olympics at Los Angeles was comprised of these same Venice swimmers and lifeguards: Wally O’Connor (captain), Phil Daubenspeck, Charlie Finn, Herb Wildman and Bill O’Connor. The team went all the way in the Olympics, winning the bronze medal. I attended those 1932 Olympics but failed to see water polo; I was only eight so I blame my father who insisted on track and field and other events. I knew and looked up to all these men in later years when they swam and worked out in the Venice Plunge while I was a swimmer and lifeguard there.

The Wolf Brothers
Paul Wolf was another Venice High swimmer, a few years before my time. He was one of the fastest freestyle swimmers in the world, very close to the world record in the 50 yard sprint. He did hold the world record in the 800 meter freestyle relay. For three years he was an All American swimmer at USC in the 50 and 100 yard freestyle, 1938, 39 and 40. In the 1936 Berlin Olympics he silver medaled.
Paul’s older brother, George Wolf, holds a unique record in the history of lifeguarding. He was an outstanding swimmer, and in 1925 he became the first and only paid, professional lifeguard on the Los Angeles Beaches of Santa Monica Bay. Before this time any lifesaving that was done was by volunteers who were not always available or well trained, resulting in many drownings. That first year George by himself covered an area of several miles from Ocean Park to El Segundo Beach. He was the first of a team of lifeguards to follow that today comprise the Los Angeles County Lifeguard Service, the largest, best equipped, and best trained lifeguard force in the world with more than 700 lifeguards and a dozen Baywatch Rescue Boats protecting seventy miles of beaches. As a teenager I knew the Wolf brothers and loved to hear their stories of the early days.

George Wolf, 1925

George McManus
George lived in Venice, California all of his life. I first met him in the late 1930’s when he would work out in the Venice Plunge after his shift on the beach as a Los Angeles County Lifeguard. Later I worked with him for many years when I was a County Guard myself. In 1909 he was working as a lifeguard at the Plunge when the Venice Water Polo Team was formed with George as a member. On that team and also lifeguarding there was George Freeth. Freeth was his friend. Just knowing somebody who actually had known George Freeth and could talk about him and those old days was an inspiration to me. Also on that 1909 team were two other swimmers I knew slightly in later years and who would talk about those days of Freeth and his contemporaries were Frank Holborrow, who later became the Santa Monica City Recreation Director, and Sherwood Kinney, the son of Venice’s founder, Abbott Kinney. Another colorful part of George McManus’s life was as a gondolier. On his time off from lifeguarding he would row the tourists along the many Venice canal waterways that existed right through town at that time and are now gone. I would listen when George talked about knowing and swimming with such people as movie star, swimmer, Johnny Weissmuller (Tarzan in the movies), movie star, swimmer, Buster Crabbe (Buck Rogers in the movies), surfer and Olympic swimmer, Duke Kahanamoku, and so many others. He did a good bit of movie stunt work himself. George joined the Los Angeles County Lifeguards the year it was formed, and retired from the force during his last assignment at Zuma Beach after working as a lifeguard since 1908, nearly fifty years.

McManus, bottom. O’Connor, next, 1920’s

Others
There were so many others that were inspirational to us young aquatic hopefuls. Most of them were lifeguards and swam in the Venice Plunge for workouts. Movie Tarzan, Johnny Weissmuller, was not a Venice product but I became acquainted with him when he would come to Venice and other venues to cheer on our Venice Swim Club where his friend and stunt double, Paul Stader, was a competitor. Weissmuller was an inspiration since he held sixty-seven world swim records at one time or another in his career and dominated his sport like no one else ever, not even Michael Phelps. For eight years, 1921 to 1928, he won every freestyle event he entered. Paul Stader was a Venice guy and lifeguard who thrilled us kids starting in 1937 with movie stunts diving off cliffs and off the masts of sailing ships in the movie, “The Hurricane” or fighting sea monsters in “Reap the Wild Wind” and many other films. He doubled as Tarzan and was a heck of a swimmer. Pete Peterson was another inspirational lifeguard who also worked out in the Venice Plunge where I first knew him and looked up to him. He was the greatest all-around waterman of his era. He could do it all. He was the best surfer, a great swimmer and free diver, and an aquatic stunt man as good as any. Repairing my surfboards for me didn’t hurt either.

Pete

My brothers and I all became Los Angeles County Beach Lifeguards.

Unless noted all photos courtesy of the Cal Porter collection

Submitted By Cal Porter on April 11 , 2010

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Lifeguards

THE MARCH OF THE LOBSTERS

The late 1940’s or early 1950’s is as close as I can come to recalling the date, probably a day in early Spring. I was working at Zuma Beach and it was going to be a fine, clear beach day. There was almost no one on the beach at that early hour but we always kept the area well covered, and when the lieutenant came out with his usual, “I think we’re going to need a pair of eyes up on the north end” (he said this a lot), I volunteered. We were all permanent, full time Los Angeles County Lifeguards on duty at that time of year, and we took turns in the towers when needed in the off season. This was before we had sand vehicles for patrol, so when it appeared that we might have swimmers one guard would head down to a south tower and one to the north, leaving the lieutenant and two guards for the emergency car at headquarters. There were many winter days when a total of only three guards were on duty at Zuma, including the lieutenant; or without the lieutenant, with no replacement, if it was his days off. The crowds at Zuma in those days were nothing like today. At that time there were no Malibu Canyon and Kanan Dume Roads through the Santa Monica Mountains that bring the bulk of today’s visitors to Zuma from the valleys. I drove past Zuma recently on a week day in the middle of March and the crowd on the beach and in the water looked like a day in July compared with then, sixty years ago.

Zuma Winter Crew, 1949

I drove my car up to the last tower and parked on the highway. This was long before Zuma had parking lots. I believe the last tower number was six or seven at that time; we originally had just four towers, whereas now it’s more like fifteen. Zuma was then the entire northern division for the county. When the beach opened in 1945 the first and only lifeguard worked out of a hunting lodge that was once there on the bank of Zuma Creek and the lagoon. This story takes place just a few years later. The public, county lifeguard operated beaches of Topanga, Las Tunas, Surfrider, Corral, Westward and Nicholas Canyon didn’t exist then, they were all privately owned. There were six private homes on the sands of Zuma; the county by then had purchased three of them. One was converted into the old, original lifeguard headquarters, the second one was lived in by the lieutenant, and my family and I lived in the third, the most northerly of the six for which I paid the county twenty-five dollars a month in rent. Of the three remaining private homes one was owned by a well-known orchestra conductor, another was owned by the president of the many Bullock’s Department Stores, and the third was rented out to various entertainment figures. The county eventually purchased these last three and the four on Westward Beach, and in time demolished all ten of them for parking lots and such.

The Original Zuma Lifeguard Hdqts.

Now back to the story. I parked my car (a nifty 1948, white convertible Ford V8) behind the tower which was just down the beach from where Trancas Creek meets the Pacific Ocean, and a few hundred yards north of my beach home. I opened the tower and did the usual: put up the flag, swept the tower, washed the windows, and put out the equipment. There was no one on the beach or near the water so I called back to headquarters to inform them it was workout time. I planned to swim some distance down the beach and then run back to the tower in the soft sand, the usual. I wore my diving mask for the swim because the water in those days at Zuma was crystal clear (and often still is) and I liked to check on the number of slumbering halibut I would encounter below me to keep them in mind for a future spear fishing episode. I also took note of the other edible fish and the plentiful beds of giant Pismo clams that were everywhere at that end of the beach in those days. What I wasn’t expecting to see was a lobster. The nearest rocky bottom that lobsters would frequent, and where we did our abalone and “bug” diving, was a mile north at Trancas Point. And to the south it was another mile or so to the rocky bottom at Point Dume. I was in quite shallow water with almost no surf that day to rile the visibility. I didn’t know why he was there but he was a nice legal size lobster so I grabbed him with my hands, trying not to get cut by his spikes, and proceeded shoreward to throw him up on the beach for retrieval on my run back to the tower. Resuming my swim, I immediately came upon another lobster, and ahead of him another, and I suddenly realized that there was a whole line of lobsters ahead of me bunched together as far as I could see under water. They were everywhere, and almost in single file heading south, dozens and dozens and dozens of them. It was perplexing to say the least but what was a fellow to do but make the most of the situation. I swam along above them, picked out a large one here and there, and then cast them up on the beach for harvesting on my run back to the tower. I don’t know how long the lobster line continued; it seemed to go on forever but my workout swim was now over and I figured a dozen lobsters on the beach was plenty for now. My house was near the end of my swim so I ran there, picked up my lobster bag and hurried back to pick up my plunder. I had a very large freezer at my house for just such sea life occasions as this, and after work and boiling a lot of water that’s where these fellows would end up. There was still no one on the beach to witness this phenomenon.

My Zuma House, 1952

Lobsters live in, around and under rocks and pilings. They don’t do a whole lot during the daytime but they do get active at night. So what were these lobsters doing in broad daylight on a sandy bottom far from home? Just out for a three mile stroll? Most of the divers and lifeguards I talked to had no idea, had never seen such a thing. They probably thought I made the whole thing up anyway, since later that day, on an afternoon swim, there was not a lobster to be seen. But in speaking to experts later, who knew much more about the life of lobsters than I did, I learned that it is not uncommon at all, and that lobsters do migrate from time to time for one reason or another, often going to safer water. But usually the journey is at night, and they sometimes travel far greater distances than my caravan on its little three or four mile hike. The process has also now been filmed.

Lobster March, photo source: webshots

I had done a lot of diving before and a lot since this march of the lobsters at Zuma Beach sixty years ago but I have never seen a mass migration of this magnitude again. What I can say about it is that this was the easiest bug diving I have ever encountered; couldn’t have been easier unless they just left the water and walked up to my house. The aftermath was that these lobsters were greatly appreciated by family and friends for many a tasty dinner.

All photos unless noted are courtesy of the Cal Porter collection.

Submitted By Cal Porter on March 22 , 2010

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Lifeguards

THE RACE

After working many years and many beaches as a Los Angeles City and County Lifeguard, in 1946 I was assigned to State Beach at Santa Monica Canyon.

State Beach lifeguard crew 1946. Cal 5th from left.

This is where the road branches off from Pacific Coast Highway and heads up the hill from the beach to the town of Pacific Palisades. The lifeguards at state beach had two swimming workout courses laid out, a short course and a long course. The short course covered the distance from the lifeguard station south to the Santa Monica Swimming Club and back, a distance of perhaps 400 yards.

Photo source: www.lapl.org. CA Incline upper center left.

The long course started about three quarters of a mile north of the station and consisted of swimming that distance back to the station. I was introduced to the lifeguard who had never been bested on this long course and had worked this area for many years. It was soon proposed that the two of us have a swim-off since I had arrived with something of a minor reputation. The jeep transported us to the starting point the very next morning. The course started just north of the old Long Wharf that had been built in 1893 and was The Port of Los Angeles until San Pedro was later selected as a better location. The Long Wharf was the longest pier in the world and had tracks for a train to run to its end. It had been torn down many years before our swim and only some submerged pilings remained. On the rocky site where the entrance to this pier once stood there was now a building containing a cafeteria type restaurant and a bath house with rentals and changing rooms.

Photo source: www.lapl.org

A lighthouse also remained on the rocky promontory which had been converted to a lifeguard headquarters. This lighthouse was dismantled in 1972 with the intent of reassembling it on the campus of Pepperdine University in the beach town of Malibu. This plan never came to fruition. All else on the site was torn down many years ago. A modern lifeguard station is on the site today with only the rocky base as a reminder of what once was there. The television show Baywatch was filmed there for many years. The earthen berm that bordered the highway and sloped down to the beach has been replaced by a massive asphalt parking lot.

Our swim commenced at this point unaccompanied by fanfare, paddleboard escorts or boats, just a friendly workout. We rounded the rocky promontory with the lighthouse and headed south, three fourths of a mile of swimming ahead of us. We passed over what were at that time great diving reefs (now covered with sand), with crystal clear water beneath us and the surf breaking inshore to our left. We reached our destination in good time with a large crowd of two or three people there to greet us. Since I reached the finish line some twenty-five yards or so ahead of my friend I was declared the new king of the long course. The media was not alerted. My reign was short-lived anyway when the following year a fast, young college swimmer took me apart.

Today the Santa Monica Swimming Club, where beach volleyball got its start, is gone, torn down years ago. The excellent surfing and lobster diving is no more due to the expansion of the beach which covered the reefs with many feet of sand. The Long Wharf is a memory as is the fishing village that once existed on the beach there. But the lifeguard building at Santa Monica Canyon where I worked all those years ago is there today, mostly unchanged. And the ocean is still there, and if you have a mind to, you can still go out and swim The Long Course for a really fine workout.

Submitted By Cal Porter on June 25 , 2009

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Lifeguards

LIFEGUARD

Photo: R - L Nate Shargo, George McManus, Cal Porter leaning against a Tom Blake paddle board. Santa Monica Canyon State Beach, 1946. At the foot of PCH and Chatauqua, Pacific Palisades.

In 1909 George McManus was a gondolier on the Venice canals, rowing the tourists along the many colorful waterways that existed at that time in the heyday of the newly created beach resort of Venice, California. He was 24 years old at the time, and between that date and August of 1951, when he retired from the Los Angeles County Lifeguards at the age of 66, he led a colorful and exciting life.

He also became a lifeguard in 1909 for the Venice Salt Water Plunge, guarding not only the pool but the ocean beach in front of the swimming pool. There were no other lifeguards along the sands in those days so the swimmers gathered in front of the plunges that dotted the Southern California coastline. Mac recalled that there weren’t as many swimmers then as now but there were a high number of rescues due to the greater majority of poor swimmers, if they could swim at all.

In the off season, Mac worked as a fireman but was always within earshot of a loud, shrill whistle that was placed above the pier, and when sounded meant trouble at the beach and lifeguards needed. Since he lived in a hotel room one block from the beach, he was often contacted there to effect a rescue. He lived in that room from 1909 until he died, over 50 years later. The building is still there.

Mac often retold the story of the Great Venice Pier Fire of 1921 when the flames were extinguished by pumping the water out of the Venice Plunge. And then there was the Ocean Park Pier fire of 1914 with the Metropole Hotel collapsing completely seconds after Mac had descended from its rooftop where he had fought the fire for hours.

Probably the most dramatic water rescue of Mac’s long career occurred during the
San Gabriel Flood of 1911, at which time he and a fellow lifeguard saved a family of three, stranded when their house was engulfed by the torrent. Mac was rushed to the scene by the sheriff’s department and made the rescue in a skiff, ending up a mile down the river.

Mac knew and swam with all the great watermen down through the years, including movie Tarzan, Johnny Weissmuller, Olympic swimmer and the movie’s Buck Rogers, Buster Crabbe, and Duke Kahanamoku from Hawaii. For a time he was in great demand at the studios due to his knowledge of boat handling, and appeared in many feature films.

Mac worked most of the Southern California beaches from Redondo to Zuma in Malibu, and was known by all for his know-how in all phases of water work. He closed out his career in charge of the Zuma Beach station, and was with the LA County Lifeguards since the day the organization was created. Mac spent 42 years as a lifeguard; he won’t be forgotten.

Submitted By Cal Porter on June 24 , 2008

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Lifeguards

Swimming, the Early Days

There were no lifeguards along the beaches of Playa del Rey when I was growing up there as a child. The ocean was often rough, with huge waves breaking far out, and strong currents pulling hard from shallow water out to sea. You were on your own or depended on those watching you if you got into trouble and couldn’t make it back to shore. My mother worried a lot since she couldn’t swim. The first lifeguards, in their red trunks, arrived in the late 1920’s and sat in small, wooden, open towers where they watched for signs of swimmers in distress. I immediately decided that I would be one of them when I grew up.

On the east coast in the 1700’s, where there were few swimmers ever venturing into the water, dories were sometimes launched to rescue shipwreck victims from drowning. These men could be called the first lifeguards. It wasn’t until the late 1800’s that ocean swimming began to be thought of as a form of recreation. In the early 1900’s, with beach towns, amusement zones and long piers springing up along the coast of California, ocean bathing became a popular pastime thereby creating a problem. With no lifeguards in those days, 18 swimmers drowned over one weekend in Newport Beach. In 1918, 13 people drowned in one day in San Diego. Volunteer lifesaving groups were formed in the towns of Redondo, Venice and Santa Monica, which helped at times when they were available. Paid lifeguards who worked in the saltwater plunges along the beach were oftentimes called upon to leave their indoor posts and effect ocean rescues when they were informed that someone was drowning and needed help. On some beaches they were summoned by the sound of a large gong being struck by a spectator to the problem. Floating lifelines, that stretched far out into the ocean from the beach were placed at intervals, which made matters even worse when poor swimmers would venture too far out, lose their grip on the line and find themselves in deep-water trouble. Something had to be done.

The first professional, paid lifesaving force in California was established in Long Beach in 1908 with one lifeguard. It quickly expanded in ensuing years. The other beach towns of Los Angeles County from Redondo to Santa Monica did not form lifeguard services until the mid 1920’s. These early lifeguards had little training but were good swimmers and did an excellent job under the circumstances and with primitive equipment.

Today The Los Angeles County Lifeguard Service is the largest, best equipped and trained lifeguard force in the world, with more than 700 lifeguards and a dozen Baywatch rescue boats protecting 72 miles of beaches. More than 10,000 ocean rescues are performed each year out of the millions of swimmers, surfers, divers and sailors that enter the ocean from San Pedro to Ventura County. A drowning is a very rare occurrence. How times have changed from the time I was a kid swimming in unprotected waters to what we have today.

Submitted By Cal Porter on June 03 , 2008

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Cal Porter's Then & Now

Biography

THE LIFEGUARD TOWER

THE BEACH LIFEGUARDS, and that other sport

IN THE BEGINNING, THE TWO LIFEGUARDS

THAT FIRST RESCUE

ALWAYS A LIFEGUARD

A LIFEGUARD, TO BE OR NOT TO BE

JUST ANOTHER RESCUE??

A CASTLE ROCK STORY

Early Lifeguards and Old Friends

THE GREAT FLOOD

THE RESCUE

About Big Wednesday

ON THE BEACH OR SOME USELESS INFORMATION FROM THE PAST

IN THE BEGINNING, THE LIFEGUARD

The Return of the Lifeguard

THE WATERMEN OF VENICE, CALIFORNIA

THE MARCH OF THE LOBSTERS

THE RACE

LIFEGUARD

Swimming, the Early Days

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