In the spring of 1955, I turned 12. I was very big for my age and looking for adventure.
My friends and I were very fortunate to live in the Wooded/College area at the top of Point Loma.
Down the hill to the east was San Diego Bay where we learned to sail and race our Starlet sailboats.
Down the hill on the west side was Sunset Cliffs.
We called ourselves “The Hill Top Boys,” for obvious reasons.
Always looking for more adventure, we were excited to discover Hill Street Beach (now known as “No Surf”). There we met some young, friendly Samoans, who taught us to surf using their redwood surfboards. We all fell in love with surfing, and it became a lifetime passion.
The Hill Top Boys met other boys our age who lived nearby. Our young group enjoyed the surfing and the fish and abalone provided by the Samoans. When the surf was small, we would explore the nearby Sunset Cliff caves. There were many more back then, before the water started to rise and all the cave-ins occurred.
Our most exciting adventure was to jump; of course, there were a few dives as well, off what we affectionately called “Bird Sh-t Rock,” less vulgarly known as Ross Rock.
It was a tough climb up the rock, but once on top, it was very cool. Frequently, we would have to gently shoo off the seagulls that loved to poop on the top of the rock.
We would then jump or dive off the south side of the rock into the incoming waves. At that time, there were more rocks on the north side of the rock and the climb-up was on the south side.
When it was low tide, you had to time your dive with the incoming wave so you wouldn’t hit your head on the reef. We learned to extend our arms over our head so our hands/arms would cushion the impact on the reef.
This diving was great fun and dangerous. One of our fellow beachgoers unfortunately lost a leg climbing on the rocks nearby.
As I and my friends got older, we concentrated our surfing at places below the college (Abs and Garbage) and became involved with sports at Point Loma High School. These activities limited our visits to Hill Street Beach and the rock. Most of us went away to college and then became involved in the working world.
Now that we are all in our 80s, we can still fondly remember our days at Hill Street Beach and jumping (diving) off Bird Sh-t Rock. However, I now more fully realize the danger after reading about the current injuries and the danger to the Fire/Rescue teams.
For the most part, the Hill Top Boys have had adventurous and successful lives. We approached life with the same spirit that led us to Sunset Cliffs. We have lost a few of the boys, but the rest of us still get together at least twice a year and remember our great times at Hill Street Beach.
With the wisdom that comes with age, I encourage those groups of young kids I see on the cliffs and, more recently, on the news, some of whom remind me so much of myself and The Hill Top Boys, to be safe and not jump or dive off any part of Sunset Cliffs.
As you age, you realize the misguided nature of your youth.
