Meet the Surfer-Philosopher Behind BeachLife 

Entrepreneur, restaurateur and founder of BeachLife Festival Allen Sanford had thought long and hard about what it means to live the good life. 

Written by Diane Krieger | Photographed by Michael Neveux 

Allen Sanford remembers exactly when the seed was planted: June 1, 2016. He was crawling up the Harbor Freeway to hear Paul Simon in concert at the Hollywood Bowl.

“I was late, I was stuck in traffic and I was upset,” he recalls. The evening felt ruined before it had even started. “And I thought, why am I here? The whole goal was to enjoy myself.”

Then a crazy idea popped into his head: Why not bring Paul Simon to Redondo Beach? Instead of freeway hassles, concertgoers could walk up from the sand in flip-flops. And BeachLife Festival was born.

Sanford hasn’t booked Paul Simon yet, but he’s brought Willie Nelson, Brian Wilson and Hall & Oates to Redondo Beach. In May, the fourth installment of the three-day music fest featured John Fogerty and The Black Crowes. Last year Sanford launched a country-Americana spin-off: BeachLife Ranch. The second installment brings The Doobie Brothers, Jack Johnson and Brad Paisley to King Harbor this month.

Sanford is a man of many parts. Successful entrepreneur, civic leader, devoted husband and father. But he is also a world surfer with sand between his toes and “eudaemonia” tattooed on his arm. (That’s ancient Greek for “human flourishing” or “a life well-lived”—the highest good, according to Aristotle.)

Sanford is passionately committed to this philosophy—not just for himself but for the entire South Bay community. During the pandemic, when indoor dining was off the table, he spearheaded the construction of curbside parklets outside local restaurants. A member of the Riviera Village Association, he lobbied the group to use its business improvement funds to front the $30,000 cost per unit. Then he strapped on a toolbelt and joined the crew that built more than 20 parklets.

Sanford grew up surfing and skateboarding all over the South Bay. His laid-back parents lived in Malaga Cove but let their three boys run loose all summer. “We’d wake up and get thrown outside,” he recalls. “There were no limits really—just how far we could get on our bikes and be back before sunset.”

The rest of the year, Sanford concentrated on baseball. He dreamed of an MLB career, but at 17 his peripheral vision changed. “I went from being an all-star homerun leader at Peninsula High to where I could barely see the ball.”

He played in the Division I baseball program for two years at Santa Clara University before quitting in frustration. With baseball off his plate, Sanford got serious about his philosophy major. “I’m fascinated by all these words: fairness, justice, right, wrong,” he says. “I like studying how people make decisions and what John Locke called the social contract.”

Sanford also loves music—all kinds—and has played in multiple bands. He taught himself guitar at 14, picking out his favorite licks while stuck at home for six months. His parents had grounded young Allen after he was “busted for something inconsequential,” he explains. “But my dad felt bad for me, so he rented me a guitar.”

Now 46, Sanford still noodles around on acoustic guitar and piano. His favorite artists are jazz greats Chet Baker and Dave Brubeck. “I also love old Jamaican reggae, like Don Carlos. And I’m starting to like country a lot,” he adds. 

 After college, Sanford came back to Redondo Beach and took a job busing tables at Patrick Molloy’s to pay rent. The Irish pub on Hermosa Pier was struggling at the time. Sanford offered to manage the place for free. The owner had laughed at first, but Sanford was dead serious and proved himself by working crazy hours without pay.

“I gave it my whole life. I was 21. It was fun,” he says. Business really picked up, and “I ended up making them a lot of money.”

Soon Sanford opened a restaurant with his brother and childhood friends: The Union Cattle Company in Hermosa Beach. Thirteen more eateries followed over a long and prosperous career. Sanford also involved himself in the South Bay live-music scene, founding the popular Saint Rocke nightclub and running the Hermosa Beach Summer Concert Series for many years.

Before the pandemic, he had stakes in nine establishments. Today, it’s down to six—but only in a hands-off capacity as an investor. Running BeachLife Festival is Sanford’s full-time job now.

It takes 1,200 people working around the clock over 14 days to build out the 8-acre festival venue at Seaside Lagoon. “It’s a magical transformation, like a little town,” he says. “It’s beautiful. The festival goes for three days and three nights. And then it gets taken down in four days.”

While comparable in scale to Ohana Festival in Dana Point and BottleRock in Napa Valley, BeachLife is an anomaly. Sanford calls it “a festival for non-festival-goers.”

It very deliberately celebrates beach living with carefully curated music, food, vendors, art installations and activities. There’s a multigenerational vibe—families walking hand in hand, a sense of hometown safety. “Hundreds of kids running around, and people watching after each other’s kids,” Sanford adds.

Following his epiphany at the Paul Simon concert, Sanford had successfully pitched his brainchild to Redondo Beach Mayor Bill Brand. That night, Sanford came home and asked his wife, Colleen, what he should call the festival. A German native, she talked about watching overdubbed episodes of Baywatch in her youth, fantasizing about living that beach life. The name stuck.

Sanford had met his wife on the sand in Manhattan Beach. They were good friends first, then became a couple. Formerly an on-air personality with Fuel TV, Colleen now stays at home with 5-year-old Annika, whom they’re raising steeped in the beach-life ethos.

Sanford takes his daughter out on his surfboard every chance he gets. “I push her into the waves, and she’s standing up now,” he says. “I’ve got fingers crossed that she’ll love the ocean as much as I do.”

In a throwback to Sanford’s own carefree childhood, during BeachLife Festival weekends he lets Annika run loose with the other sand-dusted kids.