
Though I kept my eyes open, I could not see anything, for I was buried in the rushing white of the crest. But I did not mind. I was chiefly conscious of ecstatic bliss at having caught the wave. — Jack London from “The Cruise of the Snark” 1911
“That is what it is, a royal sport for the natural kings of earth. The grass grows right down to the water at Waikiki Beach, and within fifty feet of the everlasting sea. The trees also grow down to the salty edge of things, and one sits in their shade and looks seaward at a majestic surf thundering in on the beach to one's very feet. Half a mile out, where the reef is, the white-headed combers thrust suddenly skyward out of the placid turquoise-blue and come rolling in to shore. One after another they come, a mile long, with smoking crests, the white battalions of the infinite army of the sea. And one sits and listens to the perpetual roar, and watches the unending procession, and feels tiny and fragile before this tremendous force expressing itself in fury and foam and sound. Indeed, one feels microscopically small, and the thought that one may wrestle with this sea raises in one's imagination a thrill of apprehension, almost of fear. Why, they are a mile long, these bull-mouthed monsters, and they weigh a thousand tons, and they charge in to shore faster than anyone can run. What chance? No chance at all, is the verdict of the shrinking ego; and one sits, and looks, and listens, and thinks the grass and the shade are a pretty good place in which to be.”
— Jack London from “The Cruise of the Snark” 1911
Jack London and his wife embarked on a journey around the Pacific Rim in their sailboat, The Snark. During a stopover in Hawaii, he penned an exceptional article (excerpted above) titled “Surfing: A Royal Sport,” recounting his experience learning to surf with the assistance of native Kanaka children and Alexander Hume Ford, a fellow writer.
You might be wondering how automobiles are connected to surfing. Well, they were closely intertwined in the 20th century. Solid-wood surfboards were heavy, making them difficult to transport to and from the surf breaks. Additionally, surfers needed shelter from the sun and wind.
My fascination with car culture stems from the significance of understanding cars and their evolution over time and across different cultures. In 1911, when Jack London's article was published, the cutting edge of technology was the global development of the automobile, which was progressing rapidly. At the same time, public culture was beginning to recognize the health benefits of swimming. The Olympic Games played a crucial role in overcoming the fear of water, which was considered a high-risk activity.
Reflecting on over a century, it's remarkable to consider that it took thousands of years for humanity to learn to swim. However, once swimming was mastered, people literally rose up upon winged feet to ride the backs of waves on surfboards. It's even more captivating to observe how the evolution of the automobile and the power to conquer our fear of water are neatly encapsulated in this illustrious “Lifeguard” woodie wagon, which serves as part of the beach patrol at Seabright Beach in Santa Cruz, California.
Suddenly, then all at once…
Hawaiian royalty, comprising three princes, arrived in the Bay Area of California around 1885 to attend military school. They were quick to shape surfboards from the redwood forests that flowed down the California coast and eventually reached the famous surf break in Santa Cruz, known as Steamer Lane. It's ironic to think that this Lifeguard woodie wagon, built about fifty years after the Hawaiian prince's surfing debut, provided the necessary seal of approval for Americans to become confident sea bathers and even attempt surfing.
Going back to as early as floundered whaling ships, sea rescues were always complex. The natural instinct is to rescue people by boat, and certainly when you are in open sea, a boat is a necessary tool for rescuing people stranded in the water.
But when you're near a beach, there's nothing quite like a lifeguard to safeguard people from the elements. Habitual surfers discovered a way to earn a living through lifeguarding so they could surf on their days off. They achieved remarkable success and saved countless lives because they didn't use boats. Instead, they often swam through the waves to reach people in distress and tow them safely ashore using floating rings, ropes, and even surfboards.
The public gradually overcame their fear of sea bathing, inspired by some influential Romantic poems that celebrated the spiritual and health benefits of seawater. Another significant cultural force was the global expansion of the Olympic Games, which showcased swimming as a competitive sport.
Of course, the Polynesians and the Hawaiians were natural-born water-dogs, and the naked, spiritual communion with the sea was firmly imbued in their culture. Surfing defeated the missionaries in Hawaii, a fact slowly revealed to the Western world that the battle against nudity, sex, and gambling might fail.
But to those living north of the equator, the sea held a primal fear that loosened its hold only gradually. Popular culture, like the article by Jack London about learning to surf, fired the imagination, and the rise of seaside resorts and public bathing pavilions eventually loosened the chains binding our shrinking egos in the face of pounding surf.
In the late 19th century, the push to convince people that sea bathing was not only healthy but safe gave rise to numerous methods to safely experience the sea and increase intrepid novice swimmers to journey into the waves with confidence.
The rise of the Olympic event, swimming, introduced people to the innate power that humans possessed for swimming into the vast unknown, and the public building of swimming pools, or bathing establishments as they were earlier known, allowed new swimmers to practice in the safety of a secured body of water so they would not be buffed about by the waves. There was even a tube device that allowed people to safely bathe in saltwater. It was pulled along the beach by a horse and wagon, providing the experience of saltwater immersion while protecting people from powerful waves.
Surfers, on the other hand, rolled with the waves, and being buffed about was part of the sport— a spiritual communion where the sea meets the sky. This was the personal, transcendent experience that early surfers were chasing.
Once a surfer experienced the exhilarating rush of a massive wave, it became challenging to conform to societal norms and find a stable income through conventional means. Consequently, when California real estate developers sought a marketing strategy to promote their worthless (and hazardous!) beachfront properties, they had to convince the public that living by the sea was not only healthy but also safe. In response, a new profession emerged for surfers—lifeguards.
In order for the general public to grow more familiar and confident in dipping their toes into the ocean, they looked to lifeguards to guide them and provide direction. It took the skills of a professional water-man to read the riptides and the current and understand when the ocean was shifting its path and danger might be greater than normal.
Ready for action, this handsome Lifeguard woodie wagon rescue vehicle is a custom-fitted icon for water safety in the Santa Cruz Bay. It is emblazoned with the seal of Seabright Beach, a popular swimming beach where lifeguards were amply provided to assure the safety of the swimming public.
This unique woodie wagon is equipped with essential early lifeguard tools used in the Santa Cruz, California beach patrol. The beautiful wooden body vehicle was made by one of the great kings of wooden body construction, the JT Cantrell company known for their expert woodworking and craftsmanship, and equipped with confidence-inspiring necessities: a life ring, rope, first-aid kit, and lanterns for night-time misadventures.

Mavericks, a colossal surf break located on a reef about a half mile offshore from Half Moon Bay, is a legendary wave of the western United States coastline. It's situated just north of the lifeguard-protected zone in Santa Cruz. There is no lifeguard who can swim to your rescue at Mavericks, where reported wave size can approach 50 feet in the cold Pacific water.
Surfers are transported to the Big Surf by boat or, occasionally, a power wave vehicle. Mavericks can only be reached by water—it is too far offshore to paddle on your board. Big waves have been surfed there, approaching 60 feet in height. To catch such an immense wave, a surfer needs to reach a speed of about 35 mph.
That speed barrier demands an immense amount of physical strength, leading to variations on the conventional method of the surfer paddling furiously before standing up. There's an increasing trend of experimenting with using power watercraft or tow boats to assist the surfer in catching a wave.
There is also a lot of experimentation and excitement with hydrofoil surfing, where the surfer glides above the turmoil of a big wave by using air. In the twenty-first century, tow-in surfing is the latest iteration of surfing technology.
This iconic woodie wagon serves as a miniature time capsule, showcasing the creativity and restoration prowess of one of the most dedicated collector car families in the contemporary classic car enthusiast community. Their collection, which includes some of the cars I've seen, suggests a preference for restoring custom vehicles tailored to specific needs. Studying the cultural icons they've displayed at various automotive events, such as camping trailers, custom surf vehicles, hot rods, and Pan Americana race cars, has been a great learning experience, providing valuable insights into their passion and expertise.
I hope you’ve enjoyed the ride!
Collect the above NFT and help preserve the provenance of these automotive legends for future generations!

One of the sources for this article is the fabulous book, The World in the Curl by Peter Westwick and Peter Neushal. Highly recommended.
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