The Surf

December 26, 1963 was one of the best days of my life. I finally got my driver’s license, which meant no more CYO dances where the nuns checked your skirt length. No more begging my dad to spend his Friday nights chauffeuring a car filled with teenage girls all over the South Shore. Now I could drive anywhere, at any time, with the car loaded with my friends, which meant we could go to The Surf!

And by that I mean The Surf Ballroom in Hull, Massachusetts (on Nantasket Beach), which began its life hosting big bands. After rock ‘n’ roll’s popularity exploded in the 1950s, it morphed into a rock venue – like Moseley’s on the Charles, the Rexicana and countless other old ballrooms in the Boston area – and hordes of teenagers came to see the latest bands, hear the latest tunes and dance the night away. All across the nation, old ballrooms were back in business in a big way, with completely new, extremely energetic, sometimes rowdy young crowds.

At the time, Surf owner Bill Spence had two other locations, Hyannis on Cape Cod and Salisbury on the North Shore, but the Nantasket space was the only one I knew about. Unlike places such as Moseley’s, the Surf Nantasket did not have that classic “old ballroom” feel; it was purely functional with nothing but a raised stage and huge dance floor, allowing it to be perfect for pretty much any kind of event.

SOCIAL/MUSICAL STARTING POINT, NOTABLE APPEARANCES

From my teens into my 20s, my friends and I went to The Surf for three main reasons. First, for the fun. We knew the music would be great and there was always a crowd. The local bands that played there were absolutely the best in the area. Some were beginning what became long careers, some went on to national recognition and some band members joined another local or regional favorite. The Surf was a fantastic starting point for the musicians, but also for me and my friends socially.

Secondly, we went to see a particular bands and musicians, and we were lucky because The Surf hosted a wide variety of music. When we went to see The Kingsmen, we got there early so we could get to the front of the stage. After going through the doors, we ran across the floor and made it to the front. The band attracted the typical teen turmoil and the place was packed. Those of us at the front had learned how to brace ourselves against the inevitable surges of the crowd, and it was worth the risk. Maybe someone would throw a guitar pic to you or even a drumstick! We were in heaven.

When we were a little older, we went to hear a higher level of music, like The Yardbirds. By then, we were happy to stand on the side and enjoy the music without the drama. After that, we went to see musicians like Dion (without The Belmonts). That was nostalgic for us since he was an ”oldie.” Looking back, I think Dion had been popular less than 10 years before, so I guess age is just a matter of perspective. We loved him, even though he wore a hat to cover his balding head.

Finally, we went to the Surf for special functions. There were/are dozens of colleges and universities in the area and hundreds of special weekends that may have included a football game, a formal dance and some plain old good times at The Surf. As a local, I often led a caravan of cars filled with out-of-state students to the venue, which I considered an old friend. Because we were a little older and these were private events, we were a little better dressed and a little better behaved. Over the years, I saw Paul Revere & The Raiders, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, The Lovin’ Spoonful and others that I don’t even remember. By then, The Surf was close to its end.

My friends and I had grown up during our many visits to The Surf. We began as starstruck teens and grew into young adults with a true appreciation for music. Together, we loved the very beginnings of rock, the surf sound, soul, the entire British Invasion, the hippie protest and peace songs and, of course, the oldies. By the ‘70s, The Surf on Nantasket Beach was gone and we were adults trying to  make our way in the world, but we will never forget our dear old friend and all the great times we had together.

(by Carol Murphy Starkey)