My mom left me everything she had, which was more than I expected her to have squirreled away. I don’t know if she had been planning to use this nest egg to send me to school or what, but she had managed to save roughly sixty grand.
I didn’t touch any of it for years. Turtle and I both dropped out of school and went on a road trip across the US together, chasing waves.
Or that’s what I told myself. It was easier to believe I was chasing something instead of running away from the pain of losing the only family I had.
When we first heard about Leviathans, Turtle and I were living out of the van he bought for us in Cape Hatteras, checking out the East Coast scene.
Our plan had always been to eventually end up in Hawaii and level up into the big wave scene the islands were famous for… So, to learn that wecould find twenty-foot swells without shelling out surf tokens on a plane ticket?
Say less!
We packed up the next day and drove for almost two full days from North Carolina to Stars Cove, California.
Thesecondwe entered the tiny town, I was overcome with this unnerving sensation that I would never leave this place again.
Turtle drove us through the single main road that cut through Stars Cove in the direction of the beach, and I drank in our new home with so much gusto you would think I’d never seen a surf town before.
It was identical to almost every other town we had passed through in the last four years.
The main strip was flanked by pastel-colored surf and souvenir shops. There was a bigger outdoor beach restaurant by the boardwalk called‘Sharkies’with aNOW HIRINGsign out front.
This place had everything a couple of surf bums could want or need, including a beach-side trailer park for Turtle to park his van, Shelly.
Get it?Shelly?‘Cause turtles have shells? HA!
We’d unpacked and slept in Shelly that night, but I was already itching to explore by morning.
Turtle didn’t seem as enamored with the place as I was.
Don’t get me wrong, he waspumped.He pointed out that the waves were nice (perfect pipelines), but they were a far cry from the twenty-footers we had driven across the entire country to surf.
After poking around, we learned that the waves we were chasing were seasonal and could only be found in the winter months on a much more secluded beach called Leviathans, just outside of town.
That was how I found this shack that I just spent all sixty thousand dollars of my inheritance on.
Now, you might be thinking:Finn! That’s crazy! Sixty thousand dollars for a SHACK?
To which I say: Bruh.Look at it!
I can’t believe it was only 60k, if I’m being honest. Sure, the structure itself is small, but it’s all aboutlocation.
It’s right by the water, nestled a couple hundred feet back from a crescent moon-shapedprivate beachwith consistentperfectswells.
It was only a mile away from Leviathans and sat just outside of Stars Cove, making it the perfect halfway point from town and the beach where I planned to make a name for myself.
The place also came fully furnished, and you could just tell the dude who lived here before me was rad as fuck.
The beige, shiplap walls were covered in framed posters of some of the greats. Black and white action shots of Grant “Twiggy” Baker, Mark Foo, and Keala Kennelly filled me with an aching sense of belonging as I handed the completed documents to the realtor.
“Congratulations, Mr. Summers. You’re officially a homeowner.”
I winced. “Mr. Summers is my father… or he would have been if he stuck around. Oh shit—that was too much information… sorry…” Fuck what was her name? “Brenda! I’m sorry, Brenda. Thanks. For all the, um, help with the paperwork and stuff.”
God.
Can you tell I haven’t communicated with someone who doesn’t eat, sleep, and breathe the ocean for a minute?
This poor gal in her pencil skirt was looking at me like I was some gnarly sea creature squirting ink all over the place.
