Diver ‘was a true water man’

<p>Elia Powers

Friends and family called him Panda because of his robust physique.

But Andrew William Smith was more of an underwater mammal.

He found the water soothing and the waves relaxing, first as a

child surfer and then as a commercial diver in his adult years.

“He was a true water man,” said Jean Kirby, Smith’s sister. “He

loved being in the ocean and never got tired of watching sunsets on

the beach.”

Smith died of a heart attack while diving off Cluster Point on

Santa Rosa Island on Feb. 15. He was 60.

The Pacific Ocean was in plain view of Smith’s childhood home in

Corona del Mar. By the age of 12, Smith was already an accomplished

surfer. He and his brother, Ray Smith, rode the waves of Big Corona

in the 1960s. (His nephew, Colin Smith, is a well-known Orange County

surfer).

By the time Smith reached junior high, he was looking for another

challenge. He enrolled in diving school -- think seaweed, not

springboards -- and found his lifelong hobby.

Smith graduated from Newport Harbor High School in 1962, attended

Orange Coast College and eventually received a degree in mechanical

engineering from UC Santa Barbara.

When it was time to find a real job, he didn’t venture far from

the coastline. He became a “walk-on” diver, making a freelance career

out of underwater excursions.

Armed with a rake and baskets, Smith lowered himself from a line

attached to a vessel until he reached the bottom of the ocean floor.

He spent most of his time as a sea urchin diver, capturing

delicacies for Southern California companies to send overseas.

Smith often spent hours at a time in the ocean, and he could catch

up to 500 pounds of sea urchins on a good day. For fun, he would dive

and spear halibut to cook for friends.

A member of the Surfrider Foundation, Smith loved to share stories

about life under the sea. He visited Kirby’s sixth-grade students in

the Antelope Valley every year, teaching them about the science of

the ocean.

Smith shared his passion with his best friend, Skip Richardson.

They fished. They snorkeled. They took road trips to Mexico and New

Mexico on motorcycles or in one of Smith’s three Volkswagen vans.

“They never grew apart,” Kirby said. “They’ve been friends through

all these years.”

While Smith had a room set aside in the back of his childhood

home, he spent many of his nights sleeping in his red-and-white van

with a yellow flower painted on the front.

“He was trapped in the ‘70s,” said friend Cherie Champion. “He

used one bus to load up his stuff, and the other two stayed parked at

his mom’s house.”

One of the vans will be on display at a March 12 open house

planned in Smith’s honor.

Kirby said she and her brother bonded in the final year of his

life as they took care of their mother, Genevieve Smith.

Andrew Smith never married, and friends say he was best suited for

life on the go.

“I once told him, ‘Andy, you are rough around the edges, but you

have a heart of gold,’” Champion said.

Smith had no health insurance, so doctor checkups were infrequent.

Still, no one suspected that he would be making his final dive on an

afternoon three weeks ago.

“He was in good shape,” Kirby said. “That’s why it was so shocking

to us when we heard what happened. Our only comfort was that he was

in the water, where he loved to be.”