The East Coast has been starving for waves. I haven’t picked up my camera to shoot surfing since early May. Summer is a foam board festival, filled with swimmers and an nonstop beach party. Everybody comes out and everyone can surf. August is the time when our attention turns to tropical activity and surfers are filled with hope. Finally, Gaston showed up, taking shape to playful waves, blue skies and crowds. It felt like everyone in the city was on a surf holiday.
I started on the Jersey Shore finding some lonesome peaks, then hit Rockaway Beach for a zoo york sunset session and woke up to a chunky morning and windy afternoon. The ocean was a skate park. The line up was intense and unforgiving. Surfers got their fix and others got a taste for ground swell. New Yorkers are not picky, making the most out of any wave and indulging until exhaustion. There is charm in that. Gaston had a salty sparkle but it didn’t deliver the hype.
Summer is finally over. The Atlantic is awake and September sessions are here with Hermine’s arrival. New York fucking surf city!
