Missing the ocean and Daddy

I was born and raised in the East Bay Area of California. I grew up by the Pacific Ocean where sand and seagulls were an everyday sight. I've been fortunate to have traveled the United States and visited some beautiful country within our borders, but there is nothing that beats an ocean view, the sound, the smell, it's just something that you can't explain unless you have experienced it personally. My husband who is an old navy man rolls his eyes every time I say I miss the ocean desperately, but I do miss it and I dream about the ocean a lot.

I hear the California beaches are not what they used to be and that was clean, still uninhibited in some places, where you could actually find a cove somewhere and just sit and watch the waves.

When I was ten or eleven my dad bought a surplus life boat and turned it into a homemade inboard, right in our drive-way. It took Daddy about a year to complete the project. The neighbors had a field day teasing my dad, but the day we pulled that sucker out of the drive-way they were all standing there supportive and watching like it was the launch of the Queen Mary. I remember how excited I was as we headed for the water.

After my dad had proved to my mother that the boat would indeed float, she allowed me to board and waited at the launch while my dad and I took off far out into the bay. We made it almost to under the Bay Bridge with other larger boats passing and waving to us (probably laughing at us because this boat was a sight). As big as the boat was in our drive-way it was a small craft compared to the boat and ship traffic coming in and out of the estuary and the swells were getting stronger so we had to turn back before actually passing under the bridge.

Of course that was over fifty years ago, no regulations to stop us from such an adventure. It wouldn't be possible today.

My dad had a massive stroke several years ago. He has been in a health care facility since the stroke and although he has come a long way in communicating and understanding some things, he never regained his speech.

I bring this up now because with Father's Day fast approaching I wish I could talk to my dad about that boat trip and tell him how much fun it was and how it still stays with me. I'd like to thank him for the long Sunday drives across the San Mateo Bridge to Half Moon Bay (long before it became a niche for tourist) for a nineteen cent hamburger and a walk on the beach where I would hunt for shells as my folks watched me from the car. I am so thankful that I have such good memories of those times, because I miss the ocean and I miss my dad.