Dave Gibbs, aka Bolsa Dave, has been taking photos of surfers at Bolsa Chica State Beach and elsewhere in Orange County almost every day since he retired in 2011 from his long career with the city of Irvine, first as a police officer, then as a park ranger.
He doesn't take pictures of pros. He captures all kinds of surfers.
"The old guys that have been surfing for 50 years with no pictures of themselves and the young people just starting out with a stoked look on their face, with mom or dad or whoever surfing with them, those are the fun shots," he said, during my beach visit with him on Thursday.
The best part for these surfers: Gibbs is happy to send them pictures of their glorious, or at least decent, waves. And he takes a LOT of photos — 455 on a recent, good surf day.
"I think that's a daily record," he said.
Gibbs, who grew up in Huntington Beach, carries a digital camera with a good telephoto lens. Most days, he paces a small section of beach at the south end of Bolsa Chica, scanning the waves for action and looking for the best angle to catch the early morning light.
Gibbs started posting his photos on Instagram about five years ago. At first, he would print them out and bring them to the beach in a shoe box with a sign that read "free surf pics," he said.
Gibbs would post up outside his van and surfers would drop by to see if he had any shots of them.
Later, Gibbs started handing out cards with his email and offering to send photos that way. One day, about five years ago, a surfer friend asked him why he didn't post his pictures on Instagram. The friend asked Gibbs for his cell phone and set up an account for him right then and there, under the name "Bolsa Dave."
"I've been that way ever since," Gibbs said of the nickname.
Now, Gibbs posts a daily selection of his favorite shots on Instagram and often includes a note on how to contact him for more. "You'll say, 'hey, I'm Jill, I have the yellow longboard. I'm goofy foot and I had a hat on. I'll look it up," he said, explaining how requests come in.
Gibbs tries to make people look good out there, even on their bad days. "Everybody has the potential to look like a kook," he said. (A "kook" in the surfing world is a newbie or someone who doesn't follow the rules and ethics of surfing, for example, by dropping in on someone's wave.)
"I mean, we all make mistakes and do stupid stuff and wipe out or look awkward," Gibbs said. "I try not to post those because I don't want somebody to feel bad."
He does post the occasional epic wipeout, but only with permission, Gibbs said.
Gibbs said it's quick and easy for him to respond to specific requests for photos. But I find this hard to believe — almost every surfer in Southern California is out there in a black wetsuit, and most are riding their boards regular, meaning left foot forward. I pressed him.
"I'm retired," said Gibbs, who turns 65 this month. Most of his kids and grandkids live nearby — and most of them surf. "What am I doing, you know? I walk the dog, surf, take shots, go to the gym, play with the grandkids. That's it."
Me: "Sounds like a good life."
Gibbs: "Yeah, actually, it's pretty good."
Gibbs conceded that taking photos of surfers has cut in "a little bit" to his own time in the water — he’s a longtime surfer who said he's been coming to Bolsa Chica "forever." He spends what are often the best hours for surfing — shortly after sunrise, when the ocean is glassy and the crowds are light — photographing others. Conditions at Bolsa Chica, like most of the exposed beach breaks in northern Orange County, tend to deteriorate as soon as the wind picks up, often well before noon.
But he's gained things in exchange for sacrificing waves.
"Some of the people I've met through the pictures are just amazing," Gibbs said. "I mean, just really accomplished photographers, doctors, you name it."
Gibbs never asks for money in exchange for his photos, but some people pay him anyway, in money, beer, brownies. One artist-surfer painted him a portrait of his pug.
Gibbs also gets to witness the kind of wondrous events that are mostly reserved for people who put serious time into observing a singular place. He told me he recently saw a whale fully breach the water — right offshore — though he didn't get it on camera, even though he followed the whale for 30 minutes hoping for a repeat.
As we walked up the beach, surfer Justin Vergara strolled down from the parking lot to check the waves, greet Gibbs and, when he saw my microphone, gush about his friend.
"You rarely come across surfers that are so giving," Vergara said of Gibbs. "He's a really good surfer, actually. But he sacrifices his surfing in order to get pictures … because he knows how stoked the other surfers are."
Vergara also confessed that when he sees Gibbs on the shore with his camera, he's more likely to paddle out. "Photographic evidence," he laughed.
