A Real California Character--Sailing and Tennis With Tim Shepard

By C. MacDonald

My friend, the late great Tim Shepard, was a real character. He was the son of Frances P. Shepard, "the father of marine geology," known for his research, writing and teaching at Scripps Institution of Oceanography in La Jolla. The current Aquarium of the Pacific's President and CEO, Dr. Jerry Schubel, was one of Frances' students.

Tim was the grandson of T.H. Shepard, the subject of a fantastic and hilarious book he wrote, "Peaches Point" (Timothy Shepard, Crowell, 1976)--the sailing, tennis and car racing world of his amazing grandpa and clan. Tim definitely was a character in his own right, a pal of America's Cup champion Dennis Conner and CBS Evening News Anchor Walter Cronkite. I always thought it was funny that Tim, who was a collegiate champion wrestler at Harvard, graduated with an English degree, yet always asked me to how to spell words.

We really enjoyed sailing and playing tennis after our shifts as reporters on The San Diego Union. His old, British-made sailboat, Emily II, won many top races, including Newport to Ensenada. His friend and fellow sailor, Roy Disney (Walt's brother) loved Emily II and Peaches Point. He actually bought the movie rights to the book but both fellas died before it could hit the big screen.

For years, Tim and I had a wonderful time playing tennis together and we made a most unusual doubles team. He was shorter and much older than I, but when we were on our game, everything zinged and we had few problems with our opponents. However, when one of us was off, we had to rely on psychology to win the match.

This scrambling psychology led our competition to call Tim, "Mr. Good," and me, "Mr. Bad." It worked something like this. If an opponent double-faulted his serve, Tim might tell him to take another serve, while I disappointingly told my friend that's a bad strategy.

Then, when an opponent's ball was out at the baseline, Tim would say, "You just missed." I'd interject, "It was a lot farther out, Tim!"

Meanwhile, Tim, who often competed with bandaged knees, hobbled about the court as if in pain. But just drop a shot over the net and you'd witness him dashing for the ball with incredible speed.

Tim's sore "tennis elbow" sometimes caused me to ask opponents midway through the second or third set, if its OK for me to serve for him. Tim would shun me off and start acing the startled competition.

Soon, I'd be giving Tim advice, like, "Tim, move up, he's not serving very hard today." Naturally, the opponent would then try to overpower the ball, usually hitting it too long.

Tim, panting, would then often wring his wet headband out in a corner of the court and wipe off his fogged glasses. Then we might praise an opponent's good shot. We never gave up. We were a scrappy pair, knowing just how to complement each other's game, and claw our way back after being down in a set. Both of us had an instinctive will to win, a will which enabled us to overcome deficits, age and occasionally much better players.

It's all about friendship, a strong will to win and how you play the game.

Note: Anthony Lee "Tim" Shepard was born Jan. 23, 1926, in Milwaukee and spent much of his youth on Boston's North Shore and the shores of La Jolla. Tim Shepard, whose newspaper reporting career spanned 25 years, died April 10, 2006, in his home at San Juan Island, Wash. He was 80.

Shepard retired from the Union in 1978 and moved to San Juan Island. In retirement, he also owned homes in Kauai, Hawaii, and Salt Spring Island, British Columbia, and enjoyed traveling to the South Seas and Europe.