In memory of Stuart Lough

In life there are certain "firsts" we never forget.

Right up there at the top of my own personal list is the first wave I ever rode on a surfboard. And this tribute is dedicated to the man who taught me how to catch that wave and helped me buy my first board.

I was working as a box-boy at Fireside Market on Montana Avenue in Santa Monica when I met Stuart. A car with surfboards sticking out of the back had pulled up outside the front of the market and a tanned Tarzan in swimming trunks leapt out and rushed into the market. He’d come in to visit his parents, who owned and operated the bakery that was situated in Fireside by the produce department.

Stuart's 1940 Candy Apple Red
Deluxe Ford Station Wagon
In front of R & R Moselle Surfboards in 1960

Stuart had immigrated from Scotland with his parents and brother, Bill. But while his parents still retained their strong Scottish brogues, Stuart had become a Southern Californian from his sun streaked hair right down to his sandy feet.

By the time I met him, I’d been bodysurfing for a number of years and I had seen some boardsurfing from a distance. But Stuart was the first person I'd met around my own age who was connected with the sport. So I asked him about it and, to my surprise, he invited me to give it a go.

We set a place and time to meet and a few days later, Stuart led me past Malibu Pier and on up the coast to Point Dume.

Stuart had brought an extra board for me and my first lesson was learning how to carry a forty pound ten foot board from the cul-de-sac where we’d parked our cars down the long, winding dirt track that eventually led to the beach known as Little Dume.

This was before wetsuits and even though the sun was hot, the water seemed anything but. Stuart explained about waxing the board, showed me how it was done and handed me a bar. Then I waxed-up enthusiastically, ran down to the water and promptly slipped off.

Stuart was extremely patient. I remember trying to teach a friend how to play tennis once and how difficult - no, make that boring - it was to slow my game down to my friend’s level. But if Stuart was bored, he didn’t show it and got me to the point where I could paddle out.

What a feeling! Gliding along skimming the water. Just me and the board!

Finally, we paddled north of the Gully where the waves were breaking in straight lines. Besides us, there were only two or three other people out. Suddenly, Stuart yelled, "Here’s your wave. Turn around, paddle for it and stand up."

Like so many novices, I paddled like crazy, got caught sideways in the wave and dumped before I could think to stand up. And again and again. Stuart’s patience was being tested.

Finally, I got the hang of it and almost got to my feet before getting dumped.

From there I progressed to standing up and falling off backwards. It was a step in the right direction, so to speak.

At this point, Stuart told me to paddle towards "the girl in the red bikini on the beach."

What I didn’t tell Stuart is that I couldn’t actually see the girl on the beach. Or anyone else for that matter. Because I didn’t like to be seen wearing my glasses I only wore them for driving, television, movies and sports. My dark glasses were prescription, so most people didn’t notice. Besides, I had developed a real talent for recognizing blurs.

So I continued paddling in the wrong direction.

Stuart was getting frustrated and I admitted that I couldn’t see the girl in the red bikini. "What about the girl in the yellow bikini? ... No? Then what about that big hut on the beach?" Now there was a blur I could recognize!

And that’s when it happened. About a three foot wave was heading my way and I paddled for it in the direction of the hut. I felt the wave lift me on the board and then I stood up and didn’t fall off. It felt like I was going a million miles an hour as I headed towards the beach and I could see rocks whizzing by just below the surface of the water. Unfortunately, Stuart hadn’t yet got to the part where he told me how to stop the board and I rode it in until the skeg caught on a rock, the board and I parted company ... and I was hurtled forward into the rocks landing on my hands and knees. I may have been bloody and bruised - and I had to make sure I hid my wounds from my mom while they healed - but I will never forget the sheer joy I felt as I retrieved the board and paddled out for more.

We surfed a few more times together and Stuart helped me decide on a design for my first surfboard - a ten foot square tail from R & R Moselle. I must have driven the Moselle brothers (Ray & Richard) bonkers because I called every day to ask when it would be finished and I could pick it up at their shop at Jefferson and Culver Boulevards in Culver City. It cost around $75.00 and I’d put aside the cash from my box-boy job the moment the board was ordered.

The day I picked it up I carefully wrapped it in a wool blanket (my mom was not amused), drove it home, carried it to my bedroom and spent the night looking at it and imagining the waves I would surf. The first time I waxed my new board almost seem like sacrilege, but my first ride on it was exquisite.

Stuart lived in South Bay and even though I spent quite a bit of time down there and knew some of the locals, we lost touch after his parents sold their bakery and moved on. Then, on the first of August 2003 I got the following email:

Hello Bob. It's been a very long time since we last spoke. I stumbled on your web site last night and haven't stopped reading since.

We met when you worked at the Fireside Market ( Ralph McGuire and son) and my parents had the bakery there. I was surfing at the time and talked to you about it and you got very interested. Time quickly passes and I am then accused by Ralph and my mother of corrupting you into the world of surfing.

I surfed until 1980 when I suffered a severe back injury requiring major surgery and had to give it up.

There's lots to talk about but I'm only writing this quick note to see if I can establish contact with you.

I hope to hear from you very soon.

Stuart Lough

Stuart at Tom Sweeney's paddleout - April 2002

From then on we enjoyed a lively exchange of emails (see Talk Story) until I received an email on 9 March 2005 from Stuart’s wife that turned my guts to water:

Dear Bob:

This is Sandy, Stuart's wife writing you at his request. Over the past three weeks he has developed some very serious health problems. After numerous tests and several days in Centinela Hospital they transferred him to UCLA Neuroscience Hospital in Westwood. They have concluded that he has a tumor deep in his brain and we are praying that they can treat it with some new technique called "Cyberknife". It's in "no man's land" and almost impossible to get to but we are encouraged that he is getting the best possible treatment at the best possible hospital for this type of thing. We would appreciate your prayers and please know how pleased he has been to reconnect with you after all this time. He just wanted you to know. I will try to update you at a later date on any developments.

Sandy Lough

Stuart gave it his best shot and fought his illness like a true Scottish hero. He also had the support and love of his amazing family and many friends. But the cancer won and he passed on a little over two years after his first email:

September 7, 2005

It is with a very heavy heart that I have to report that today our beloved Stuart lost his valiant battle. We were surrounded by friends throughout the evening and Jennifer, Scott and I had the rest of the night to tell a deeply sleeping husband, friend and father how much we loved him and that it was okay for him to go. He fought so hard but it just was not to be and we certainly didn't want him to have to live like he was, totally and completely unable to do anything for himself. Thankfully, he never experienced pain throughout this ordeal and we are eternally grateful for that. He was our hero and we will miss him with every beat of our hearts. Your incomparable love, prayers and support have meant the world to us. We are hanging on to one another and are going to be just fine....in a while.

God bless and keep you all.

Sandy and family

To Granddad

From the day you learned, you were out on the board,
Catching wave after wave, high school could be ignored.
Working on cars with Ken or surfing with your friends,
You lived everyone’s dream of the summer that doesn’t end.
You taught us all so much, things we’ll always remember,
Along with the great stories up in Oregon in December.
I never understood how you woke up every day at 5:00 o’clock,
Walked the dog, got the paper, and sometimes a jog or a walk.
I still remember the day you took me biking on the Strand,
Eight miles there and back, it felt almost like a foreign land.
You weren’t able to teach me to surf but I know the reason,
I’d skip class every day to do it, no matter the season.
Someday soon I hope to learn so I can further understand,
How you could spend as much time out there as you could on the land.
You were the jack-of-all-trades I’ve always wanted to be,
And I can only hope some of that rubbed off on me.
You were an inspiration to family and friends,
With a smile and energy that never seemed to end.
And there is no higher goal that I can aspire to,
Than to try my best to be more like you.

In memory of Stuart Lough, 1940-2005