During the winters of 1947-48, I lived with Ward Baker in the Sun Valley parking lot, in a 4-by-8 foot trailer. Someone asked me last night, “Who is this guy, Ward Baker?”
Ward grew up in Manhattan Beach, Calif.
I first met him while I was surfing in January, in the freezing cold waters of the South Bay near his house. I was riding my homemade redwood surfboard, and he was riding his homemade redwood. We met in 1941, long before the invention of foam and fiberglass boards.
Ward was shy, but a talented swimmer, surfer, fisherman, diver, auto mechanic and photographer. We were almost the same age and we had to register for the draft at almost the same time. We wisely enlisted in the Navy V-12 officer’s training program and wound up together at USC for our initial training.
During the winter of 1944-45, I had a week’s leave from the Navy over Christmas and talked Ward into going to Yosemite with me to go skiing. He brought along his 8mm movie camera. By the time we left Yosemite, four days later, we were making turns on the so-called Big Hill.
Ward went back to the beach when we got home and I went back to Kwajalein for another tour of duty, on yet another small ship.
When I got discharged in 1946, we got back surfing together and took 8mm movies of each other. We both had cameras by then. About this time I found a $200 house trailer that had a bed and an outdoor kitchen in the back.
We traveled and skied together for two winters. The second winter, Ward rode the Trailways bus home two weeks early to get in shape to take the lifeguard test. He had to swim around the Manhattan Beach Pier and was told by the lieutenant, “If you want to get the job, make sure that you do not beat Esther Williams.” Ward got the job and had to patrol the beach from the Hermosa Pier to the Redondo Breakwater by himself.
Several years later he was stationed in Manhattan Beach. It was in the late ‘40s when United Airlines stewardesses went on strike and a half dozen of them started hanging around his lifeguard tower. He wisely chased one of them, a very pretty lady, named Jackie. They have been married ever since.
Two children later, Ward was interested in becoming a full-time fisherman. Ten days after his second child was born, he took a job on a tuna boat operating out of a small harbor south of the equator in Peru, much to the surprise of his wife, and family, who preferred that he stay home.
Fishing was not easy because it depended on the size of the tuna caught. There would be one, two, or three fisherman and their poles in a line, all joined to a single hook with a feather jig. Each fisherman wore a crash helmet so that when a tuna was caught on a hook, they would all give a yank in unison and throw the two hundred pound tuna over their heads into the boat. It was dangerous and hard work but Ward stuck it out for a couple of years, while I continued to ski and teach skiing in Sun Valley and Squaw Valley.
Ward finally moved to Maui, where he and Jackie still live today. When I talked with him he was complaining that with the population explosion in Hawaii, overfishing and scuba divers have eaten all of the fish down to a depth of 60 feet.
Our phone call ended when he said that he had to trim the coconuts off of a tree in the backyard before they fell and hurt someone. He said the coconut tree was 70 feet high, and yes, he climbs up there and cuts the coconuts himself. Ward, like me, is nearly 88 years old.
After spending two winters in the parking lot with me, Ward only went skiing one more time in his life. His comment was, “It was too much of a hassle for me.” But I wonder if he wasn’t thrilled about the ski bum life we were experiencing.
For more of Warren’s wanderings go to www.warrenmiller.net or visit him on his Facebook page at www.facebook.com/warrenmiller. For information on his Foundation, please visit the Warren Miller Freedom Foundation, at www.warrenmiller.org.