Construction, deconstruction, reconstruction. What is our function, and isn’t it nice to play amidst falling buildings for a change? Growth, expansion, topsoil, debris, disease. It is not our place to ponder – we do not care. These are not our tragedies. We suck asbestos with big smiles on our faces.
So there it was, a Blue Haven. Approximately a 60s make.
Blue Haven pools thrived in Southern California for a good while. Some were grand pools and others smaller, yet all were mathematically correct. One can always count on a Blue Haven for excellent cornering, wonderful redirection, dashing shallows, and properly affixed coping.
Pool making is an art. Pool construction companies that existed previous to the 1980s didn’t have skateable trannies in mind. Unlike vert ramps, which I consider a two-dimensional plane, a pool is a three-dimensional transition. On a vert ramp, you can pump up the tranny and down again. But in a pool, one can pump sideways – thus, the third dimension. This way one can go toe-to-toe or heel-to-heel with the coping. This is the fascination with pools. A three-way curve up, across, and down.
Back to the Blue Haven pool, which laid peacefully for years ’til hydrated. It was located in the middle of Driftwood Mobile Homes – a large complex located on Pacific Coast Highway in Huntington Beach. The pool shared the clubhouse with a nice nine-hole golf course.
Years ago, I heard a rumor of the possible destruction of the Driftwood Mobile Homes, which I passed daily. The news left me watchful and alert for the day we’d ride her. The day of destruction finally arrived. The pool was skatable for a solid week and we were never busted. Police helicopters circled, but no rollers arrived. We just parked right on the property and skated ’til sunset. Now you see it, now you don’t.