I am posting this amidst one of the craziest world crises in modern times. It may even be questionable whether we should have been surfing so much in the past few weeks, but they are passed now, and all we can do is monitor the situation and make informed and ethical decisions about what is best to protect our personal health and the health of our communities. For this post I wanted to share my experience of one of the best days of surfing in NY in the past 6 years and to introduce some of you to how I am integrating philosophy and surfing in the way that I approach both.
After a dull winter punctuated with a few fun days and two trips to CA, NY finally got some serious surf. On March 1st the weekend forecast was flat. That quickly changed by March 3rd and all signs were pointing towards an epic swell on Saturday, March 7th. This was one of those where it was super clear that the hype was real. The Marine Forecast 1 on Buoy 44025 started calling 18-20ft seas in the outer waters (over 50 nautical miles out to sea), and all of the wind models had N winds from sun up to sun down. The swell direction looked to start ESE and shift ENE. The key factor in both of these directions is the double E — the swell was going to be quite east regardless of whether it had a more southerly or northerly inflection. This means long lines, lots of rights mixed into the usual lefts in NY, and lots of lefts mixed in with the usual rights in NJ, and a significant amount of closeouts in NY . . . but if the interval stays down (under 13 seconds), still a good (and potentially great) direction for NY and NJ breaks.
Friday afternoon on March 6th was stormy and misty. I closely monitored the Surfline cams, but by dark none of the swell had started to appear. I also kept an eye on Buoy 44025. By 8p I saw 7ft @ 8 seconds. That alone was promising. I had sent out a newsletter two days prior to alert beginners not to surf and had more advanced clients on call should the morning start small enough to coach. When I woke up at 4a I checked the buoy again. It was technically down or had been down for the past three hours (buoy conspiracy!) but the last reading was 9ft @ 9 seconds. Those are miracle readings for tubes at Rockaway Beach. This also meant that it was already too big for the majority of the people I mentor. I called all sessions off except for Catee Lalonde, whom I’ve been working with for over 3 years now. I have coached and seen Catee charge pretty size waves during hurricane swells, so I was confident that she could at the very least make it out and get in position for one or two. On one storm — TD10 — she sent it on a wave I didn’t even want anything to do with!
Catee ready to charge.
As I drove through Rockaway in the moonlit dawn I noticed the high tide filling some streets near the bay side. I remember seeing the moon shimmering in a flood puddle in the middle of a street near the 70s while I was stopped at a red light. Must be dicey for the residents. I won’t be moving to Rockaway any time soon.
Parking was tight, as usual. Some kindhearted soul was there before me and made room in a tight spot for me near a fire hydrant, pretty close to the boardwalk. Catee didn’t fair as well, but at least the warm changing spot was close to the beach. We walked up onto the boardwalk in the still darkness. The surf rumbled and as the black grey dawn started to lighten up we began seeing whitewaters reflected by the boardwalk lights. The tide was nearly up to the boardwalk as well. As the day dawned further we began to see that there was serious swell in the water. Sets pulsed through one after the other, lines stacking out the back. I sent one last CSC bat signal text to confirm to everyone that sessions were off for the day. Strangely, as Catee and I headed back to the van to change, we did not see people rushing to get out into the surf.
First light surf check.
I saw plenty of tubes on our surf check, so I choose to ride my new Charles Mencel 6’6” twin pin gun. I got it made for this kind of hollow surf. Lots of foam under my chest to give me confidence that I can get into waves early. I put Catee on another Mencel board — a 7’3” hybrid with plenty of paddle power too. I really don’t like to be under gunned in real surf, especially when it’s windy. I learned this surfing Ocean Beach in San Francisco for 10 years. Take out a 5’10” and get tossed. Take out a 6’6” and make tubes. Unless you’re Kelly Slater, you probably need more foam than you think you do.
6’6” Mencel twin pin with 4 deep channels.
The swell was not at its height when we paddled out and the higher tide made the channel by the jetty deep and safe for our dry hood paddle out. The waves were good sized — probably 6-8ft on the faces. The wind and outgoing tide were creating a drift out to sea, so we had to push the envelop on the inside to be in position for the good ones. Catee hasn’t been surfing a lot this winter and was a little out of form, so she stuck outside for most of the approachable drops. I had the Go Pro in my mouth — not yet on the super wide setting — to see if I could get some cool tube footage and capture Catee’s rides, should she get any. We both knew it would be hard for her. I tested out a few rides. First one meh. Second one a shallow but perfect tube. Third one was not too deep either but the wave was incredibly formed and I saw the lip over my right shoulder for a majority of the ride. You’ll see both of these waves on the video. Again, the camera is not on the widest setting, so you have more of a square image, which does not capture the lip going over the head as well as, I would soon learn, the super wide setting does. Fast forward a week later and it turns out photographer Tommy Colla had snapped a sequence of this wave from 3 blocks away. Check it out.
After those first shallow tubes I got a really deep one that spit inside so hard it shot me off my board and sprayed my face with sand. Due to the cold winds and water the Go Pro battery died quickly. The swell was on the rise. When the battery died I went into the beach to drop it off on my towel. I had a quick chat with my new intermediate client, Emory Lee. Emory came to the beach to check out the size and to just meet face to face. We watched Catee barely miss a great right and then scratch over a 5 wave set, turtling under the lip of the 3rd wave. Word to the wise: do not go for the first wave of a set unless you are 100% sure that you can catch it! This is even more true when it’s pumping and you’re the only one out! Nothing worse than missing a wave and having a whole set nail you on the dome. Catee was getting pushed towards the W end of the jetty — this is always a danger during E swells — so I stayed on shore watching her because it was clear she was trying to come in and I wanted to make sure she was safe. She did make it in, but didn’t get a successful ride. I was simply glad that she charged out there and came in safe. I took that as my cue to get back out there.
From inside one that ended up closing out on me. Notice how square the frame is. Not a wide enough setting!
I left the Go Pro on the beach and had a much more successful portion of my first session. It is true that it is easier to breathe and concentrate when you’re not trying to press the button on through your 7mm mitten. There was still no one out except one guy riding a surf mat, so I had my choice of waves in the lineup. It felt like I got so many tubes they all kind of blend into one. The 6’6” would allow me to enter deep with no big air drop and the fins and channels lock in mid face when I press hard off my toes to maintain a mid line through the tube. No slipping and very little drag — a great combination of qualities in a tube stick. I was pinging around the lineup, taking some from near the jetty and others from the middle of the beach. If I got too close to the W jetty I took a whitewater in and walked back up the beach to use the channel again. Sessions like this are like being at an amusement park with really fun rides that you just keep getting back in line to ride.
People started filtering out into the water. Per usual they all crowded around the jetty, so I switched to the middle peak to continue surfing alone. At the jetty the guys were mostly pushing one another too deep — and a great majority were not riding the right boards — I saw people on shortboards and retro boards that are ok in 3-4 foot surf, but will definitely not suffice in these conditions, especially with the tide getting lower and the sets coming in more frequently. I saw many wipeouts and unsuccessful pull ins. A lot of people pulling back after making the whole lineup believe they were committed. If you’re going to do that you should not even paddle out. That ruins the waves for those that want them. It also means you feel unsafe. If you cannot transform that energy into the strength and daring to launch yourself in, then your anxiety is liable to get you in trouble. Sometimes just being on the right board can mitigate this. So can preparation. I grew up surfing waves like these, had the right board, and wanted more tubes. I also did yoga at home before I drove out.
As the crowd became more intense I decided that since I had all day to continue surfing, I should go in, hydrate, download footage, eat a little something, and warm up. That was a great call. I texted Juan and he was on his way. After he arrived we went and checked the surf again and I brought my camera. It was draining low tide. The whole crowd had exited the water. Swell was way bigger now. I filmed empty tube after empty tube and took some incredible still shots as well. Then we went back to the van and suited up.
I had intended to use the Go Pro for the entirety of the second session, but with the waves looking heavier, more frequent, and more intense — which yes, would have yielded incredible footage — I did not want to deal with it. I just wanted to focus on making the drop, getting under the lip, and out of the tube. It was a great call. I made it it out of 5 great tubes in a row. And even got a tiny spit out of one. When I came in I saw a guy with a camera on the beach. I took his info and he texted me the below photo. I was admittedly a little bummed because his shot has pretty poor timing for how deep I was the entire ride, but he said that he hadn’t seen me in there until I came out. I thanked him and am ultimately grateful that he got the shot. That was my 5th or 6th tube of that session — I was pretty conservative — only going for waves that I knew I could make — and it gave me enough confidence to try the Go Pro again. I set it on super wide. It had gotten more crowded. Way more crowded. And it became harder to get into position for the ones I wanted. Nevertheless I got one decent tube with the thing in my mouth, and as you will see in the video, the super wide setting gets the shot! The next one was a long one that I ultimately got closed out on. Then I got skunked, and finally found one in. Another three hours in the memory bank.
Exiting the tube. Photo: @dougmike770
As many know, I’m writing a dissertation on philosophy and surfing. I’m currently working on a chapter on phenomenology. Phenomenology is the study of the structures of lived experience. I intend to end that chapter with notes on the tube ride — on what is happening in there temporally, physically, emotionally, intellectually. Phenomenology might ask: how are the world and we constituted in such ways that tube riding is at all possible in the first place? Can we say something about human relationships to technology, nature, history, culture, and other human beings vis a vis the tube ride? I think we can! Phenomenology often starts from the first person intersubjective perspective of a being-with-others-in-the-world. It starts from a premise that whatever it is that any given person calls ‘I’ is itself by virtue of being in a world with other ‘I’s — it is more properly a ‘we’. The reason I would even take GoPro at all is to share my tube rides with others. This sharing serves many functions. I can learn things from the information that is captured in regards to how deep or shallow in the tube I am. I can analyze my own lines so that I can adjust in my next session. The tube happens quickly. Time does not stand still. One is transfixed by the vision of the tossing lip in front of one — it’s a deep and intense emotional state where fear, anxiety, joy, and elation all intermix. This highly cathected experience I believe has lead some people to say that time stands still in there. It’s more that you want it to stand still. That is part of the reason once a person has acquired the skills and ability to get tubed — how one does that requires its own phenomenological analysis — we can start by saying that years and years of wave judgment is key — they always seek more and more tubes. It simply never lasts long enough! And a really good one you want to prolong through sharing. Did my friend see it? Are we going to talk about it? Break it down? How deep was I? I felt pretty deep, but can’t be sure without some kind of verification. Without the verification the experience is real and intense and good, but sharing it helps strengthen its solidity in the whole body memory. Which is why I am so personally grateful for Tommy and Doug’s shots above! I can take those and add them to my full body tube wisdom storage to apply to future sessions.
The fluctuation of the order of time is something that in surfing is very profound and unique. My reflections on what time “is” has led me to believe that time is, as Spinoza pointed out in the 17th century, essentially eternal. This means that we cannot know the beginning or end of time or existing and that our institutions and historical events are real and constitutive of the worlds we live in. We can use ancient wisdom to solve future problems (we should do that more often). We can also use modern knowledge to understand ancient worlds better. In surfing, I use the wisdom handed to me by forebears, both directly and indirectly, to inform my decisions in the water. The etiquette norms I adhere to were originally established by ancient Hawaiians, but I practice them wherever I surf. Past mistakes are ingrained so that I can improve on them. I mean this technically in terms of tube riding. I have thoughts like, “last time you were too deep and fell to the bottom of the wave — give it two extra pumps next time.” This thought is both past tense and futural. Past because I am drawing on experiences I have already had, images I have already seen. Futural because I am looking ahead to future tube rides. When I am in the tube I am thinking quickly looking on the formation of the round orb in front of me. I want to be thinking 1-2 seconds ahead of it so that I can anticipate how to adjust. Much of what Aaron James calls “adaptive attunement” is not so much adjusting in the moment as it is having this robust relationship to time amidst the unfolding of any given wave. If I make it I remember what I did right. And I also obsess about how good it felt. I reimagine it in my brain. I splash the water. I wonder if someone will congratulate me or whether I got the shot or whether someone was hiding on a jetty with a camera. Again, it happened if no one saw, and I had a great experience, but because I am ultimately connected to and constituted by others, each tube is heightened exponentially if the experience is palpably shared in one way or another.
I explore thoughts like these in this section of my dissertation/book project. And fortunately for me, Super Saturday March 7th gave me ample opportunity to experience a variety of tubes with different levels of intersubjectivity. There became a level of intersubjective life that was intolerable for me. People were doing paddle arounds (Paul Surf — someone who has recently moved to NY, and started shaping in Rockaway, happens to be one the worst offenders), going too deep while at the same time calling others off of waves, and just not taking their turns or observing the ancient respect code of aloha. That is when people are surfing according to the wrong understanding that life is about “me” rather than “we”. I am of the firm belief that when we focus on the latter ontology we find that a.) there are actually plenty of resources to go around; b.) we are essentially happier when we share resources with others, so long as we are showed the same kindliness and respect in return (this is essentially the principle of aloha). The experience of a crowded lineup where aloha is not observed, we can all agree, is far different than either one based upon respect and turn taking or a more or less empty one. But also I had to consider that I had had my fill that day and didn’t need to be one more person clogging the zone. The tubes from my earlier sessions communicated to me a sense of satisfaction and willingness to finally go in and rest up again.
Evening session gem. Visualization is also a key to the phenomenology of surfing. When you see a wave like this you want to imagine where you would take off and what kind of line you’d draw through the tube.
After another rehydration session in the van, I left that area to check a spot that doesn’t break very often. Turns out that this swell height and interval combined with the afternoon high tide were making it all time. It wasn’t even that much smaller than the first joint! I connected with my dear friend Franco Rinaldi who has a brand new CSC Potentia that he loves. I took some video of Franco’s session and some stills of the golden afternoon lighting on the waves, and then I headed out for one last session before dark. The swell had died considerably and I only caught two waves. One a little head dip and the last a closeout out tube with the most gorgeous tube photo I have ever taken! The pink and orange light inside the tube is surreal and even hallucinatory.
This was one of the most life affirming and joyous days of my life. I was so stoked to see Franco drop into two solid ones on his new board. Juan, who is a great surfer, was a little out of rhythm with the day, but I did see him get one fantastic tube at the first spot. It was cool to share tube notes with him and to talk about what we would have done better if we could relive the day again. We both agreed that we watched a little too long during the peak low tide when I was taking pictures, and that we should have probably gotten in the water about 45 minutes earlier. There hasn’t been a swell like this in some time, and it may be a little while before there is one again, but I hope to use this experience to make even better decisions, adjustments, and attunements next time I get the opportunity. One of the things I am very pleased about is calling off coaching sessions. It was too big for most people, and it wouldn’t have been safe. I have tried to coach on days like this before — Hurricane Dorian with Nelson Hume — and my concern for the safety of my student takes away from my focus on my own safety and efficacy as surfer. And since my practice is structured on this intersubjective ontology I endeavor to be better so that we can all rise up together. Enjoy the remaining photos.
Waves all over the joint.
Franco and his new CSC Potentia from a time when we were all more lax about Covid-19.
And here washing off the germs on an overhead runner. The board works!
Me and Juan in the surf van between sessions.
Last light!
Packing up under the moon, about to head home to a new reality.