Turning points in my life have appeared unannounced and camouflaged in unexpected events. They were often preceded by a chain of unrelated events that ultimately culminated in a classic turning point that changed everything. Such was the case in late 1970 after Carol and I had relocated to the west coast.
Where do you vacation when you live in Paradise? This was the question my wife and I wondered since we arrived in San Diego from northern New Jersey. The answer came from Carol’s friends at work. “You must discover Mexico!” was their response to our question.
So our first vacation while living in California found us going by train from Mexicali to Mazatlan in 1971. It was a great adventure that opened our hearts and minds to the beauty of the land and people who were our southern neighbors. This series of events set the stage for a turning point moment in time a few years later, 1974 when our son was a year old. Friends invited us to join them for a Saturday at a small vacation community just north of the town of Rosarita Beach. Americans owned a few dozen homes on a bluff above a beautiful beach, about 30 miles south of the border on the Baja peninsula. The setting was so perfect that Carol and I decided to rent that same beach house the following summer. With the pertinent information for renting the place from our friends we began to formulate our vacation plans.
We arranged to rent the beach house for the first week of August 1975. As the date approached, Carol and I began to accumulate the stuff we needed to take with us. As an avid fisherman, I was anxious to get my feet wet in the surf and fish for the feisty surf perch that swam just off shore. While we were visiting our friends the year before, I had noticed a local Mexican man fishing on the beach with just some monofilament line wrapped around a coke bottle. As we spoke, he displayed a nice string of surf perch he had caught. In anticipation of the fishing, I packed my seven foot surf rod, spinning reel and a supply of hooks and sinkers. The night before we were to leave, we loaded our little red Mazda pickup truck for our first family vacation in Mexico.
At the time our son Randy was two weeks away from turning three. It was a quick trip from our home in San Diego to the quaint little house perched above the blue Pacific Ocean. When we arrived, we quickly unpacked the truck and surveyed the house and its surrounds. There was a large flagstone patio in the back of the house that overlooked the ocean. A winding stone staircase led down the bluff to the beach below. We were all excited to get our feet wet and I found myself deep in thought as to what the week’s vacation would hold. Prime for me of course was the chance to fish the pounding surf.
Once we had all our clothes and food stowed in their proper places in the house, we boarded the truck for a trip into town and few miles to the south. The town essentially existed on a single broad and dusty main street lined with stores, restaurants and night clubs. The biggest and most famous landmark was the old Rosarita Beach Hotel. We were interested in finding a bakery and a supermarket where we planned to retrieve daily necessities to augment the food we had from home.
Each morning, I drove the truck into town to get fresh rolls from the bakery, a San Diego newspaper and anything else we needed from the grocery store. When Randy came along we looked for some treats for him.
I have found that turning points cannot be legislated or created by our own hand or mind. Such is the turning point of this story.
Since my childhood I was an avid fisherman. So, it was only natural for me to take along my fishing gear on a vacation that offered unlimited surf fishing in the Pacific. Each morning after breakfast, Randy and I went down to the beach. As the surf beat upon the sand, we scurried with small shovels in hand to scoop up as many sand crabs as we could catch. We filled a small bucket with a few dozen of the little creatures. These would become our precious bait. Of course Randy was simply fascinated by the little critters and would have been content to just spent time playing with them.
Sand crab
My desire was to feed as many of these critters on my fishing hooks to the hungry fish that I knew lurked just beyond the breaking waves. I had previously set up my surf fishing rod rigged with two hooks and a sinker. I baited the two hooks, took my position in the wash of the last wave and just as the next wave began to break I cast the bait, hooks, line and sinker over the wave. It quickly sank to the sandy depths below about thirty yards out. It didn’t take long for the first surf perch to take the bait. I hauled in my catch and Randy was so excited he wanted to try his hand at this new discovery – fishing.
Surf Perch
I showed Randy how to hook the flap of shell on the side of the sand crab and then helped him with the long surf rod and cast the baited rig past another wave. There he stood in his little red bathing suit, holding on for dear life to a seven foot long fishing rod. The motion of the waves and undertow kept a steady pull on the line causing the rod to bend at the tip.
Then it happened! A surf perch took the bait and all of a sudden holding on to the jerking rod became a real challenge for Randy. But, gritting his teeth for mental support, he succeeded in landing the fish all by himself. His excitement was written all over his face. Fortunately, I had my camera ready to record the event! 
Randy’s First Fish
Randy was hooked on fishing from this very moment. No longer was the catching of sand crabs the thrill of the day for him. Now, that was only the prelude to catching fish!
For a number of years following this initial vacation in Baja, we made the trip to that Rosarita beach house our annual destination. Each year Randy caught more, bigger and a greater variety of fish than he caught the previous year. These photos record the hauls for 1980.
Another Catch
Dog Fish
Dinner was great!
Turning Point(s)
Randy’s first fish was a turning point for me because it began a deeper connection with my son. Fishing became a common ground for our relationship. Over time it grew to include deep sea fishing in both the Pacific and Atlantic oceans, trout fishing in the glacier fed roaring Big Pine Creek in the eastern Sierras, Dorado fishing in Puerto Vallarta and Cabo San Lucas and shark and Dorado fishing in Cancun. But I also learned that as a parent, these life turning points cannot be planned, rather an open and expectant eye is necessary to see them as they present themselves. I am grateful that I saw the open door when Randy asked to fish in the surf that day. I didn’t measure his request by his size and think it impossible. I just worked to make it happen for him.
It turned out to be a profound turning point for Randy as well. It opened the door for him to learn many lessons in life and to find his passion. It became the vehicle for him to earn enough money to buy his first truck, to start a fishing club at school and to learn to love sushi and ultimately master the art of sushi making. His dream of owning and operating his own sushi restaurant became a crowning achievement among many others along the way.
COPYRIGHT © 2014 ALLAN E. MUSTERER