Wet Suits

In the early 1950s, San Francisco surfers would wait until water temperatures dipped below 50 degrees before bothering to wrestle into a proto-wet suit. "It was a straitjacket," said Jack O'Neill, 81, of his early innovation, which was nothing more than unicellular foam plastic glued onto thin plastic in the shape of a vest. "In those days, you would last about an hour before the ice cream headaches set in."

ECO-FRIENDLY wetsuits are already the next wave among surfers. Patagonia was the first to jump into the green waters, with a zip-up made of neoprene derived from limestone instead of petroleum. When the suit debuted in April 2006, Patagonia couldn't meet the high demand. Within a year, Body Glove and Matuse followed with their own "green" wetsuits. (Both sell on Seahuggers.com, a website that requires no explanation.) But now, it turns out the whole theory of an eco-wetsuit may not hold water.

From the moment the first neoprene suit was poured, cooled, cut and stitched, its manufacturers have tried -- with mixed results -- to blur the distinction between fashion and utility. After all, who wants to shiver like a wet puppy or look like something out of "Creature From the Black Lagoon"? Early '50s: In the beginning, the dive suit was the surf suit, and the surf suit was the dive suit. Fortunately this didn't last long, but the concept was clear.

MORE than most of its contemporaries, the 1966 scifi thriller "Fantastic Voyage" has stayed on the right side of the line separating vintage kitsch from risible camp. Directed by the versatile genre pro Richard Fleischer ("Soylent Green," the underrated noir "The Narrow Margin"), written by Harry Kleiner and later novelized by Isaac Asimov, it's perhaps the trippiest variant on the difference-of-scale conceit that has fueled fantasies from "Gulliver's Travels" to "Honey, I Shrunk the Kids."

AT 77, Bob Meistrell leads deep-sea diving expeditions to Catalina Island and remains at the helm of Body Glove International, the multimillion-dollar Redondo Beach surf company he co-founded with his twin brother Bill half a century ago. Jack O'Neill, 82, is a bit landlocked these days after turns as a wartime pilot, surfing legend and driving force behind Santa Cruz-based O'Neill Inc., one of the surf industry's most recognized brands.

ECO-FRIENDLY wetsuits are already the next wave among surfers. Patagonia was the first to jump into the green waters, with a zip-up made of neoprene derived from limestone instead of petroleum. When the suit debuted in April 2006, Patagonia couldn't meet the high demand. Within a year, Body Glove and Matuse followed with their own "green" wetsuits. (Both sell on Seahuggers.com, a website that requires no explanation.) But now, it turns out the whole theory of an eco-wetsuit may not hold water.

Regarding "Surfing Whodunit" [Oct. 11]: You forgot the "dry suit" from the early '50s. The tight fit around the waist, neck and wrists made it uncomfortable. And if water got in, it was cold and stayed cold. JAKE CLARK Redondo Beach I worked with Hugh Bradner at Scripps institute and attended a 1961 interview that formed the basis of an article in Skin Diver magazine wherein he was acknowledged as the inventor of the wetsuit. JIM DODDS Indian Wells

The thrillers of William F. Buck ley Jr. are political advocacy continued on alternate routes. Mongoose, R.I.P. celebrates, if that's the word, Buckley's loathing for the life and works of Fidel Castro, who is presented as a lecherous murderer. Blackford Oates, Buckley's recidivist hero and master of disguise, is deeply involved in Mongoose, the CIA plots to assassinate Castro, one involving a poisoned wet suit, another a poison-bearing hooker.

Alternately swimming in six-foot seas and floating "like a cork" for more than four hours, a Monrovia scuba diver who was washed overboard from his boat six miles out in the Pacific was flung ashore near Oxnard on Sunday night--less than a mile from where his boat beached itself.

Last week's late-season, Southern Hemisphere swell created head-high waves at Orange County's best spots. It also brought in colder water, signaling this month's arrival of winter. "It's definitely full-body wet-suit time, " said Rockin' Fig. Yo, Fig, with water temps 60 to 62 and threatening to go lower, what's the latest in cold water gear? The new feature in wet suits is "O" rings. Everybody's puttin' O-ring seals in the neck, ankle and wrist holes.

Regarding "Surfing Whodunit" [Oct. 11]: You forgot the "dry suit" from the early '50s. The tight fit around the waist, neck and wrists made it uncomfortable. And if water got in, it was cold and stayed cold. JAKE CLARK Redondo Beach I worked with Hugh Bradner at Scripps institute and attended a 1961 interview that formed the basis of an article in Skin Diver magazine wherein he was acknowledged as the inventor of the wetsuit. JIM DODDS Indian Wells

From the moment the first neoprene suit was poured, cooled, cut and stitched, its manufacturers have tried -- with mixed results -- to blur the distinction between fashion and utility. After all, who wants to shiver like a wet puppy or look like something out of "Creature From the Black Lagoon"? Early '50s: In the beginning, the dive suit was the surf suit, and the surf suit was the dive suit. Fortunately this didn't last long, but the concept was clear.

AT 77, Bob Meistrell leads deep-sea diving expeditions to Catalina Island and remains at the helm of Body Glove International, the multimillion-dollar Redondo Beach surf company he co-founded with his twin brother Bill half a century ago. Jack O'Neill, 82, is a bit landlocked these days after turns as a wartime pilot, surfing legend and driving force behind Santa Cruz-based O'Neill Inc., one of the surf industry's most recognized brands.

"MOM? Mom? Mom-mom-mom-mom-mom ... " It sounds like the call of a sea bird. In fact, it is the call of the American child, identifiable by its relentless pursuit of sugared food and an inability to do anything for itself. They cannot be domesticated. Believe me, we've tried. "Mom? Mom? Mom-mom-mom-mom-mom ... " We are at the beach with four other families. One of the American children wants something done. Fast. But first, the mother must: -- Stir it. -- Pour it. -- Patch it. -- Tweezer it.

In the early 1950s, San Francisco surfers would wait until water temperatures dipped below 50 degrees before bothering to wrestle into a proto-wet suit. "It was a straitjacket," said Jack O'Neill, 81, of his early innovation, which was nothing more than unicellular foam plastic glued onto thin plastic in the shape of a vest. "In those days, you would last about an hour before the ice cream headaches set in."

For $42,000 a year, Graham Wright does a job that few other people would want to do--at any price. * Several times a year, Wright, 44, dons a disposable body suit, hip boots and a paper surgical mask and descends into Laguna Beach's sewers, wading through the effluent of the affluent, in what his bosses describe as a heroic effort to keep the sewage from backing up and spilling into the ocean.

Ask a few surfers about the genesis of the wet suit. Chances are they will credit clever surfers. They may tell you surfers tried greased sweat shirts, old cashmere sweaters, plastic-coated foam suits. Finally, an intrepid surfer discovered neoprene rubber. The truth, however, may be a little different. Many say the first neoprene wet suit was developed in a laboratory at UC Berkeley.

It is difficult to take exception with much of Gov. Pete Wilson's outline of a new California water policy--especially one that he argues will work for both people and wild creatures. But the most difficult part of water policy has always been injecting detail and substance into even the most visionary of outlines, and Wilson has stopped short of the hard part.

If the painter Paul Gauguin played the mandolin, and the pugilist actor Sylvester Stallone wields a brush, why shouldn't the ruler of the Grateful Deadheads, Jerry Garcia, have a second coming as a visual artist? Some high-profile creative souls know no bounds when it comes to crossover--they've found that commercial isn't such a dirty word if it means translating celebrity je ne sais quoi into product punch.

They headed in after a day of storm surfing. Two got smashed against the rocks. Another was toppled, cut and bleeding. Yet another was trapped in La Jolla Cove and heading for the flesh-cutting rocks and caves nearby. With the right timing and serious paddle power, they all finally made it across the cove to "Tiger's Paw" bluff. Barely. All this for what? A couple of six-second rides straight down 15 feet of icy water?