Terry B. Quinlan, a surfer and tennis pro who used to watch Bobby Riggs hustle chumps at The Jockey Club, was there as well. He once sold surfboards for Dudley Whitman at Challenger Marine. “I met [Dudley] after I bought a board from his daughter Renee, who was selling it on her front lawn one day.” Quinlan, like a lot of old-school surfers, also knew Murph the Surf: “He was a better thief than surfer.”

One of the younger surfers at the table bemoans the lack of truly consistent surf days lately, and Quinlan agrees, adding that great breaks were a regular occurrence in the past. He falls silent for a moment, as if channeling the power of time, then declares emphatically, “The ocean was different then.” But surfing is about hope, too, and on any given day, anyone can catch the best possible break at South Pointe into a future of pure possibility.

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