Fish Flash Drag Lure
Fish Flash Drag Lure
Buzzy Trent
Buzzy Trent
Written by Anna Trent Moore
Everyone must have something to love.
Otherwise, it is like a ship adrift
Wed, desire for wind.
Buzzy Trent, 1995
They say they found a fisherman lost at sea last plank of my father. I sent Randy Rarrick, the shaper, to learn more. If it was one, is the advice he has given up surf. He left behind surf without looking back, and he left the board.
I remember very well. He blue ... completely blue, the color board that my father, Buzzy Trent, never possessed. All the other, shaped by Dick Brewer, was clear. But what I remember most is what has held a winter day on the grass before the house of Val Valentine at Sunset Beach. It There was a good swell and my father invited Ricky Grigg to try his new board of directors. He did, and when Ricky came his words were, for the least critical .... My father responded with anger, to say the least angry words .... He immediately packed and leads us to Ricky leaving home in the wake of the dust of our Volkswagen. My father forgave him later (he always does), but stopped shortly after surfing. I've often wondered what happened to the blue board. When I heard where it was found, I have not been surprised, because when he leaves his life of surfing, from there, there was always a part of him adrift ... lost at sea
He was told to me by a few people who knew him and knew him long, that nobody has accurately portrayed the real Buzzy Trent. The character that follows, describes a physical power house, a risk taker, who was quick to express an opinion, and had a bit of ego. In reality it was the opposite. Instead, it was sweet (he loved animals and children) could be quite conservative (was shy with women), took calculated risk (finely evaluated each situation), and was emotionally vulnerable. What I think most have found intriguing about him is that he lived a life around surfing big waves for a single moment. He has a plan for surfing big waves, in some opinions, one of the actors to create the very sport. Known as a person who has lived in his own words, without apologizing for his actions and views, he presented the intrepid Big Wave Rider Image has been reflected not only in water, but in his personal life. He temperament of steel in the eyes of chiseled physique that embodies the central image of the Wave Rider much of his time. But perhaps what has been The most beloved of my father (by people who knew him really), was what he had in itself an ideology in which he modeled a life to live by. He spoke as he lived and he lived as he spoke.
Born in Buster and Dorothy Trent, he was appointed Goodwin Murray Trent, after his father. His mother was the only daughter of the renowned architect and richest of Los Angeles, John Parkinson, who designed the most cities most important monuments, which are LA City Hall, USC Campus, and LA Coliseum. In fact, sixty-four of his buildings still standing today.
As a wedding gift from grandfather Buzzy Dorothy and Buster a completely furnished five hundred acre ranch in San Marcos (now the site of Palomar Junior College) where he was born on Mother's Day May 13, 1929. The youngest of five children, he was the baby of the Trent family of mother who was born while in quarantine. Called Buster (like his father), she was soon reduced to Bussie, and later evolved into Buzzy, although it was Bussie always his mother.
Buzzy grew up in the ranch Trent until the age of ten years. His memories recall a happy childhood though marked by some sad events, one being when his sister drowned in the well and the other witness to the track carrying hundreds of homeless men seeking work and food during the depression years. He described how my grandfather would have them drive off the ranch with a shotgun, there so many years. For most, it was a good little souvenirs like picking tomatoes giant off the vine and eat them like apples, and hunting deer with his twenty-two rifle.
But the problems arise in the marriage of his parents, forcing them to divorce. Shared by my uncle Marty (my father's brother), during these periods, while custody issues were decided by courts, rather than take the decision to place the children with one parent, the children would instead be placed in foster care until a decision can be made about who gets custody. Buzzy and his brother Marty were placed together in foster care for two years. His parents later decide to reconcile, sold the ranch and moved into a Victorian three-storey house on San Vicente Boulevard in Santa Monica. Attempt reconciliation of his parents would soon prove to be unsuccessful and, possibly, his father left the family for good and his parents divorced. Trent Dad abandoned his family was to have lasting effects on the period of twelve years Buzzy. The effects that would influence how he then chose to deal with family relationships much later in life. When his father returned to reconnect with his children, Buzzy was the only family who refused to ever speak to him again.
The transition from life on a ranch in Santa Monica has been a sudden change, but Buzzy acclimated. Always an individual, he maintained in his own person and Trent boys were allowed to continue running shirtless and barefoot in their overalls. Delivered by their parents, they have been fourth for lunch, which was then unheard of amount of money breakfast children. It was a little boy his mother with an independent mind and free rein to his own way. It flourished in Santa Monica and that's where his love for the ocean was born.
In Gremm young, it would Peddle his bicycle State Beach to rent a board paddle Ninhausners Boat House and use it to fish for mackerel and halibut. There he said he saw a guy catch a wave and ride it all the way. He started surf the paddleboards until one day when he returned to Old Ninhausner, he fell through the window. He fled with the Old Ninhausner scream and run him, never to return.
Convincing his mother to buy him a surfboard Redwood, he hung a trolley rickshaw for a bike tire balloon, and peddled his hundred pound ten miles of Malibu
When I started going to Malibu Second World War was going on. There was gas rationing and no cars to speak of the highway. The first time I saw Malibu I could not believe it. I fell Malibu love with the first time I saw her.
He struck up a friendship with Matt Kivlin. They became friends in tow, they straddle the bike in Malibu together until Matt has a car:
It was a thrill traffic recommendations Santa Monica Malibu on bikes with balloon tires ... which has been a great journey for us, dragging the hundred sequoias book. When we came around the corner and see these two small foot waves, we Peddle faster and faster everything to get there. We would bury the boards in the sand and leave them there during the week, come back and pick them up next week. Life was different then. You do not worry. When we arrived a little older, Matt has a car and began to lead us to the beach ... we did not bury our advice more.
At an impressionable age, abandoned by his own father, Buzzy found a model in Bob Simmons. I do not recall ever talking to another user how he spoke of Simmons. I knew it was an important figure in his young life:
A Malibu in the forties there was absolutely nothing. The beach is white sand and covered with driftwood. There was only one Mrs. Rindge home from home. He was also a Coast Guard station. They were supposed to be watching the beach, but there was nobody there. Nobody. It is very rare for a car to drive when you were surfing. It was beautiful!
The substance of the matter is dealt with, literally covered with abalone. Headed Trout Steel ... There was the steel head trout swam up Malibu Creek. We chase them and hit them on the head with stones.
I met Bob Simmons in Malibu and for some reason, he took a liking to me. It was a great person and you knew there was something special about him. Intellectually, he was head and shoulders above the rest. He was 4F, which means it does not have to enter the army. A bike accident had passed through a car windshield, breaking his arm and permanently fixing it at an angle of ninety degrees. When he started surfing there was so crippled by the arm he could not paddle his board pretty quickly.
Simmons has been my hero and I was a Gremm Young hurt his test pilot. I stood around with him and we entered a close relationship. He came to my house to take in his model A. It was the funniest! As I said, it was brilliant. With gas rationing in progress, he devised a way to adapt its model A burn to a cleaning solvent. He had fifty one gallon drum behind his car. We drove along the coast in that thing. We drove everywhere. We even made trips to Mexico ...
Although early on he felt a strong attraction to the ocean, my father was also a natural athlete who excelled in every sport he tried. He ran track and field and played football, he was a boxer for a time, boxing in the Golden Gloves. Suddenly, leaving boxing, he focuses on football, and continued to play for USC. Maintaining links with the ocean, it began life care in Santa Monica Beach, where one day he saw a little old man nine years in the soil break. Hey Kid! Want a ride? Propping him on his surfboard, he canoe into a wave, its first cycle. My father lifeguard tower sitting in front of this little boy house, and after this tour he calls himself the mascot of the tower of Buzzy. The boy's name was Ricky Grigg and their friendship lasted for the duration of my father's life. It has been ties and friendships of this kind is no doubt influenced the trajectory of migration of surfing in Hawaii in California the fifties. The list of big wave surfing is a short list of pioneers. They all knew each other and were ready to follow each others lead to islands.
When I asked my father what brought him to the islands, he said it was Walter Hoffman, who was in the Navy and stationed in Hawaii. Walter was returning images of the wave of call for are really worth coming here! A spot on a crew to enter a race Trans-Pacific him the opportunity to sail to Hawaii in 1953. It would be the first catamaran crossing Pacific California. It was an adventure that took him to the islands in search of surf the biggest waves at the point where he spent the rest of his life.
He fell in love with Hawaii. More importantly, he fell in love with Makaha ...
This is only a vague point watching the way he turned and rolled in Makaha. They are so blue and pure. When the wave begins to there is the spray that goes straight into the top as it breaks up and down. It is a powerful thing through the point of grinding with a shoulder fully formed. This is a fantastic experience to be there and see these perfect sets coming in. You are sitting in the ideal position, the line up is perfect, you everything correctly, and here he comes around Kaena Point. A great feeling comes over you. You're not thinking about anything else in life except that of the waves and now. This is just you and this huge wave. You are totally involved in what you're about to do and nothing else matters.
He returned California, but the lure of the big Makaha Surf Point was to pull back. At that time, his brother Marty was bedridden from a serious leg injury playing football. He told the story to me one day;
I had just broken my leg playing football at UCLA and has been at the hospital. Buzzy walked carrying a backpack on shoulder. He said: "I'm going back Marty." I screamed and was insulted and told him that if he left, he was a coward for not completing their studies and leave like that ... and that if he left I never wanted to see him. He just said, "I'm Marty. He turned and left. I've never seen for more than twenty years. I always thought your father would have had a very different life if he had not met your mother ...
And she has changed her life. He loved Makaha, and she was a girl of Makaha. If you want to know where you go, watch the road behind you. There were three things that my father really loved, surfing Makaha Point, his two children, and my mother. It is not surprising to me that my father chose my mother Violet. His journey in life has brought him, and, in turn, has led to its ...
The first time I saw your mother she was leaving the supermarket Makaha. It was the most beautiful thing I've never seen!
And she was beautiful. The dangerous kind with a nice hot temper. But then, my father always liked a challenge. Dark eyes sparkling, big mouth full, and the smallest size ... it had a charm that you've left an indelible impression. And this voice ... she stormed Buzzy Trent.
Bud Browne knew them both well and often told me they could not live with or without the other. In truth, their relationship encompasses everything we want, but what we fear one. I think we measure our own relationship by what we observed in our own parents. Although I have witnessed many times in their heated, I also remember my father, my mother deal with a romantic manner; choose gardenias or find her shells.
It is ironic that my father chose to marry a woman who hated the beach. Raised in Makaha, the driest part of the island of Oahu, she aspired to the rainy season and fresh greenery of the Manoa Valley. In fact, every time my father took us to sail with him, I remember my mother sitting on the beach one time he was in Yokohama. Near the waterfront on a cool evening, she sat on the sand near my brother Ivan and me while we played army with pieces of driftwood. It was unusual for her because she always sat in the car watching my father surf the passenger seat.
When she died, she was the greatest tragedy of our family has ever endured. In fact, I do not think we have really survived. Dedicated to her until the end, his final act was for her to scatter his ashes, mingled with gardenias in the bottom of the valley Niu; Far, far, far from the ocean and Makaha.
When my father gave up surfing, he followed true to the way he handled everything in life. He said when you go, you go ... go and never look back. Never.
He left the Makaha surf behind, as when he left his brother Marty in California and never looked back. For a time, he replaced the surf with the hang gliding and diving ... he always dove ... until the body just could not do. I knew that his life has never been the same since Makaha. He did not live his life, he passed through it. He even called the home straight. I knew he missed it, missed this part of himself.
Not long ago I had a dream. It was so real that I woke with a start and a huge hole in my heart.
I was in a place surrounded by black lava that stretched for miles and miles. It was endless. Above was blue without a cloud in the sky. I was walking alone and the future, I saw a figure in the distance. Walking faster and faster, I began to see clearly that I was getting closer. It was my father. I started the race and the time I was fixed on his face. He had a smile. The same smile that lit up his face when I was a young child. I screamed at him, and I heard screaming the word no! But he simply raised his right arm above his head, almost in a strange hello, smiled, and turning his back toward me and fell forward into the bluest ocean.
The dream felt so real it was as if I could touch it. Later, I told a friend Hawaiian. His response was, Anna it was Kaena Point. I felt like I was hit. Of course it was. I've known all along. Although Kaena did not surf, it was his special place. The southern most tip of Oahu, barren land untouched by time, it was the place he loved to dive, where Hawaiians believe that your soul into the next life. He knew where to go.
When My father died in September 2006, it has been dispersed in a place that I have not chosen. It was a beach town, a place he was unrelated. No matter, because even in death, I knew it was for the swim of his life. I am sure has made it back to Kaena Point, finally ... through Makaha.
Lost at sea? I think at some point in each of our lives, we are all lost temporarily. This is probably the only way to really find ourselves, who we are and what we're really done. Is this the one? Is it the blue sign my father coming home? I hope so.
About the Author
Anna Trent Moore
Anna Trent Moore is the daughter of Buzzy Trent. She is also a wife, mother, surfer, and owner of a beloved Corgie named Little Bear.
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