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| Jerry White heading down the pier for the next boat... |
The Sandcastle Restaurant, what is now
known as Paradise Cove Beach Cafe, has been a mainstay of Paradise Cove in
Malibu, California since before WWII when it was first set up as a club house. James Garner in The Rockford Files had his mobile home just up the beach from the cafe. Mel Gibson had his trailer just
down the beach from the café in the Lethal Weapon films. Cindy and I celebrated our 48th
anniversary at the café with our feet in the sand and an excellent meal.
Cindy's and my Paradise Cove Beach Cafe Brunch. What a view!
The place played a key role in my
recovery after my dark days that included the breakup with my fiancé and the dashing of my hoop
dreams,
if playing Division II college ball could be called a dream. One likely hastened the other and ushered in a period of
wandering.
Doug Clark got me a job with him working as
a Pier Coolie
running the boat hoist on weekends, maintaining the rental fleet of
fiberglass boats and their 5-hp motors, and other pier related duties. During the summer of ’74, I ended up living in his parents’ single-wide mobile home while
working full time just after my parents moved away and left me. Okay, I
had the option of moving with them to Concord, California but opted to stay since
I had a new girlfriend and was getting my college life back on track. Yes, it
was Cindy and that was the best decision of my life.
Doug and I would arrive at the
locked gates of the pier at 5:30am after a fine breakfast at the café ready for
a hectic morning of launching boats. The first person in line was nearly always someone
from the mobile home park who’d slept in their car so they could catch the
first fish. The weekend line would often stretch along the entry road and wind up and out onto PCH.
After checking that all was ready
and with the nod of Bob Morris, who ran the pier and now owns the restaurant, we opened the
gates. Doug and I each towed a boat behind a golf cart and up to the hoist where
another Bob ran the rig. While one boat was hoisted over and into the water, one of us
would pull a red fiberglass rental boat to be third over the side. In two hours or so we would launch around 100
boats. By 6pm, all but one boat would be retrieved, the one holdout rocking at
anchor for their weekend of fishing.
The cabin cruiser at anchor was owned by a middle-aged
couple with no kids to worry about and was easily the biggest boat we would
launch as the hoist groaned with the weight. They went out nearly every weekend
except when they pulled the boat south and fished out of San Diego. These folks
always brought us the best smoked yellowtail or tuna from their southern trips in appreciation for us
getting them on the water and out again.
On days when the water was nearly
flat and glassy, we would drop Tex Clark’s boat over the side of the pier and
ski. I was never comfortable with the idea skiing with sharks that far out but
Doug convinced me that we would be inside the kept line and everyone knew
sharks stay out. Right? The first time we out was after we closed the pier.
Earlier, a boat came in with two blue sharks draped over the bow of their boat.
Doug’s argument was they were fishing up around Point Dume and off Zuma Beach,
a known breeding ground for blue sharks. I acquiesced. Then a competition skier
came in after training for a race out to Catalina and back. He was shaking and
told us how he just missed skiing over a big shark. Doug argued that he was training
well beyond the kelp line. Later, to top off the shark parade, a pier fisherman
caught a leopard shark, those popular sharks then populating Marineland. It was
not uncommon for me to yell “hit it!” as Doug tossed me the rope. I couldn’t
get on top of the ski fast enough. Good times though.
When we were dating, Cindy would
come down to the cove and visit. While I worked, she read, tanned, and swam. The
L.A. County Lifeguards maintained a Baywatch boat at the end of the pier and they
had a one-person hut with a nice telescope. I could find her almost all the
time unless she hiked further up toward Point Dume. Paradise Cove is a special
place for us.
Paradise Cove Beach Café has its
walls nearly covered
at every conceivable point with black and white photos of the glory days of the Malibu area with the cove featuring heavily. Some of them date back
to the 30s and cover every decade since. Autographed movie star 8X10 glossies
festoon the soffit above the bar.
We would see celebs who walked to
the end of the pier sometimes. Barbara Streisand who didn’t last too long
because she got swamped by fans; Sony Bono who had chartered the smaller
fishing boat but wasn’t too friendly we think because it was during his divorce
with Cher; and others. Our top though was Vincent Price who was there to go
fishing out on the Gentleman with his 11-year-old granddaughter. He came
by and talked with Doug and I about fishing and introduced his granddaughter.
One of the regular pier-fishermen, a trailer park resident, came over and asked
if Mr. Price would mind going over to say hello to the man’s mother over in a
wheelchair, fishing pole in hand. He went over, squatted down to get eye level
and proceeded to chat like they were old friends. One class act.
The Gentleman that Vincent Price and his granddaughter went out on a half-day excusion.
I love looking over the photos and, on this day, I struck gold.
As I was walking out through a walkway little
used by the public as there is a wait-station there for cutlery and cups I saw the photo below hung on the wall above the entry. I laughed out loud as I
recognized myself driving the golf cart and shared my joy with the
busboy boy busy putting service groups together.
The pier, now a stubby remainder, then with the hoist, boats waiting for launch and me heading down for the next one.
It was a great day to fondly
remember Paradise Cove.
My hope is that you have your own
version of Paradise Cove.
Peace.
