The Jalopy Journal
Discussion in 'The Hokey Ass Message Board' started by Dog427435, Dec 18, 2009.
Old “Tin Can Beach”
The road, PCH at the beginning in North Huntington Beach
Wow, nice photo capture of the famous stretch of PCH going south toward Huntington Beach. It looked like this for many years, even into the 60s. To the left was a semi famous, exclusive, duck hunting club above the wetlands/marsh area. The long drive toward Huntington Beach used to be next to the railroad tracks (on the beach, next to the tall telephone poles) to connect the beach cities from Seal Beach to the North to Newport Beach to the South.
During this time period, all along PCH was a long row of cars stretched to the horizon. It wasn’t for a big Sunday, beach party, but cars belonging to the everyday “residents” of this weird beach. They were not just "beater" cars, but classy sedans and coupes. Strange, but, this was home...
When we were little, my dad took us to this beach to spend all day fishing, relaxing, and taking walks along the shoreline. Those were some fun times. But, the people were everywhere. They were not day-use beach goers, but almost, permanent residents with free lodging. The people just found stuff to create the “most awful” to really well designed structures to call home.
My dad loved this place and his favorite spot was next to the big pipe that somehow got loose and planted itself in the sandy shoreline. It constantly got pummeled by the waves. But, secretly, it created a sandbar on both sides that drew all types of fish to wander around until they were caught.
Sometimes, if my dad did not want to drive all the way back to Long Beach, we had dinner cooked over a fire right on the beach. Grilled Corvina, Halibut, Bass and other varieties. My mom was in charge of cooking, as always, but she told me years later that she hated this “stinky, awful” place.
During the 1960-65 era, we used to stop at this big pipe to surf as the sand bars made some good peaks for surfing. There are many stories about this portion of the beach. One of the illusions was that the beach sloped so fast, that after the shoreline sandbars, it was over most people’s heads. Whoa!!! The top of the big pipe was the only thing you could see from PCH. We saw the crappy living conditions of the stuctures and told our selves that we would never want to live here, even if it was on the shoreline.
“They were open with their littering at Tin Can Beach”
"California's coastline is full of colorfully named strands like Seal Beach, Pismo Beach and “Muscle Beach.” However, TIN CAN BEACH — a wacky monument to littering — is just a memory.
The nickname for a 3½-mile stretch of sand just north of Huntington Beach, Tin Can Beach reached the heights of trashiness in the 1940s and '50s, when it was the sometime domain of hobos, drinkers, free spirits and vacationers.They built cardboard shacks, erected tents and thought nothing of tossing used cans, bottles, paper plates and other debris to the ground.Their symbol was an assemblage of more than 100 rusting beer containers that spelled out Tin Can Beach in the sand.
Some residents from the East seemed to have ended up at Tin Can Beach because they couldn't go any farther west. The dwellers fished in the surf and bathed in the ocean. Gasoline stations on Pacific Coast Highway took care of other needs. The authorities largely ignored them because the beach was private property, belonging to more than 200 absentee owners who had acquired parcels during an oil boom in the 1920s. By 1956, many of them had "become wealthy and disappeared," The Times said.
In the meantime, the property was leased by the Signal Oil and Gas Co., which occasionally cleaned up the debris just to keep the mounds of cans from blocking the view of the ocean from PCH. Some of the inhabitants were more conscientious than the litterbugs, flocking to the beach to find relief from the sun in that era before air conditioning.
By 1956, Tin Can Beach was beginning to face a problem that would become familiar in Southern California: congestion. A lot of Orange Countians weren't wild about people coming to Tin Can Beach, either. They considered it an eyesore and appealed to the state Legislature to buy it. It took several years, but eventually the numerous owners of the property, or their next of kin, were located. The state acquired the site for $1 million, renamed it Bolsa Chica State Beach and removed the cans, including the ones that spelled out Tin Can Beach.
Nowadays, sleeping overnight on the sand is forbidden. "NO tent camping," a beach website warns, as though in fear of some old-time residents returning. Owners of recreational vehicles can sleep in the parking lots, but it's not free. Fees range from $50 to $65 per night. No vestige of Tin Can Beach survives.
And the "Bolsa Chica State Beach" sign at the entrance is made of concrete, not tin."
61 Buick conv?
nope you can never come back
Yea, I know, but tell that to my poor old fingers that are lucky to hit the right keys even once. I figured twice for good meassure ( that finger did it again). The young guys don't know what a Crosley is and the old guys can't spell either. And then you come along.................. Thanks you made me go back and correct it.
Beacon Hill, Seattle
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