Big Crowd, Riptides Turn Beach to ‘War Zone’ for Lifeguards

On days like this, they call it a “war zone.” Like opposing armies, the boogie board-toting adolescents, the paunchy salesmen with winter-white midriffs, the teen-age sun queens and the two-kids-and-a-Thermos families meet the storm-fed swells of the Pacific Ocean, and the 2.1 miles of sand known as Huntington State Beach becomes a first line of defense.

It was only 11:30 a.m. Sunday when the 2,400-space parking lot filled--leaving motorists trying to jam past the “lot full” sign anyway.Meanwhile, a tropical storm off the coast of Baja California was producing the second straight day of heavy surf and powerful rip currents.

“It’s going to be a full six-pack of Coke day,” sighed D.V. Harding, enforcement shift supervisor for Huntington, Bolsa Chica and Crystal Cove state beaches.

An estimated 230,000 people were drawn by the blue skies and 80-degree breezes to Orange County beaches, more than 40,000 of them on the relatively small wedge of Huntington state sand between the Santa Ana River jetties and the city beach near the pier.

Record-Setting Heat

It was no surprise. The mercury hit 103 at midday in Santa Ana, the hottest June 30 on record, and new temperature records were set in both Los Angeles and San Diego on Sunday, at 98 and 96 degrees.

And first-stage smog alerts had been called for the east, west and south portions of the San Gabriel Valley, in the Saddleback Valley and central Orange County.

More hot weather is expected. After patchy low clouds or fog burn off along the coast today, the high will be in the mid-70s at the beaches to the mid-90s inland. Nights will cool to 58 to 68.

Weather for the Fourth of July should be more of the same with cloudy mornings along the beaches but otherwise sunny. Highs are expected to be in the mid-70s at the beaches to nearly 90 inland.

56 Rescued

By day’s end Sunday, 56 beach-goers had been pulled from the waves by lifeguards at Huntington State Beach, most of them in various stages of panic, dismay, drunkenness, glee, fear or annoyance.

“This is about the busiest day we’ve had this season,” said lifeguard supervisor Dave Pryor, a 16-year veteran of the force, who was on Jeep patrol during the peak afternoon hours with Mark Higginson, a Mark Spitz look-alike in training for a permanent job on the state beaches.

The team’s mission is to make sure everybody’s enjoying themselves--but not too much. That means warning youngsters caught drinking alcohol on the beach; it means intervening in the parking lots when sunburned motorists argue over who gets out first; it means picking up after the sea gulls once they’ve spread hot dog wrappers and potato chip bags in wide rings around the dumpsters.

And on Sunday especially, it meant frequent, hurried trips to one tower or another to assist in another rescue from the churning surf.

For lifeguards, a rip current--a dangerous stream of rapidly moving water that often pulls swimmers from shore--is easy to spot: it’s an area of rougher-than-normal water, possibly brownish from churned-up sand, and probably carrying an entire line of swimmers either up-shore or, worse, offshore.

Moreover, lifeguards are trained to recognize the difference between experienced swimmers who probably can escape the current unaided and those who are in over their heads.

“See, it’s building up over there again, and look at that guy out on the raft,” said Rob Platner, who prepared to head in after the raft, now spinning rapidly, even before it encountered the dangerous current.

“That guy has just entered the fun zone, and Rob knows he’s going to go party with him before (the raft) even gets there,” Higginson explained.

“You just know when they need help. You can tell, their strokes are getting weaker, they’re looking onshore, you can see their faces and they have a look of slight concern, whereas the other guys, they may be wearing fins, they look like they want to go for it and you can tell they know what they’re doing,” he said.

“You can almost spot a rescue before it hits the water, sometimes. Someone who doesn’t look like they’re water-oriented. People who head toward the water wearing Levi’s, maybe. The worst type of people are the ones who don’t have any kind of a tan, they drop face down in the sand and they have no idea where their kids are or what they’re doing.”

Turning Pink

Like the middle-aged couple to his right, who had not stirred an inch in the past 10 minutes, and whose backs now matched the shocking pink hearts on the woman’s black bathing suit, for example? “Exactly. Most definitely.”

And then Higginson was in the surf, rescue buoy in tow, helping three other lifeguards pull more than a dozen swimmers out of a particularly strong and sudden current. (Rescues of as many as 50 swimmers are not uncommon during such conditions, Pryor said.)

About that time, the large, yellow rescue boat that had been hovering several yards offshore moved closer in. The pilot announced over the loudspeaker: “Attention, swimmers. We are experiencing a severe riptide condition. Will all weak swimmers please move into shallower water.”

None of the people were in serious trouble. “If it ever gets to the point that somebody is actually drowning, the lifeguard is not doing his job,” said Pryor. Lifeguards often swim out simply to warn bodysurfers of dangerous currents, make sure they’re all right, and explain how to escape a rip current: relax, float with the current and then swim parallel to shore until the current is cleared.

Higginson dived in three more times during the afternoon. Then, heroics dispensed with for the moment, it was time to pull out a plastic bag, hit the trash detail and pick up after the cawing, clacking sea gulls.