If this guy is staring at the horizon, don’t you DARE talk to him. Photo: Unsplash/Jeremy Bishop
There are many different kinds of surfers these days. Surfing is more popular now than it’s ever been, and lineups are getting a little clogged. Depending on where you live, you can pull up to a spot on the worst day ever and still have to battle a million other surfers for waves. Take Malibu. It’s a prime example of what happens when a spot truly blows up and everyone just sort of agrees that the only rule is no rules. Sure, that’s an extreme example, but it’s relevant. A friend once told me (after I’d been burned on every wave I paddled into at First Point) that “if you’re not in front of someone, you’re behind them.” Unless you’re someone like Allen Sarlo, that’s basically true for the average surfer at Malibu. With big crowds, there are always a few people who exhibit the same traits. So here, I’ve categorized them very broadly. Too broadly, but hey, people contain multitudes and if one thing in this life is true, it’s that everything is black and white and nuance is not a real thing.
Zero Etiquette Guy:
You know this guy. Zero Etiquette Guy is generally a decent enough surfer. He wears only black wetsuits and has a permanent scowl on his face. He does not appear to enjoy surfing. He’s been surfing this wave for years before you ever surfed it, but he doesn’t live nearby. He is cranky because he has to drive all that way to surf the same spot he’s surfed for all of those years, and he’s only got an hour to catch as many waves as possible. His incredible paddle strength has been built up by years of catching a wave all the way to the sand, then spinning around and sprint paddling back to the peak, where he will surely back-paddle you. And if a set wave happens to come while he’s still paddling out, he’ll shoulder hop you with nary a sideways glance.
One Board Quiver Guy:
I must be clear about something about the One Board Quiver Guy before I explain him to you. He’s not a guy who has one board because he can’t afford another one. He is not a guy who is just starting out and probably is riding something wrong for him. He is not a longboarder. In fact, he’d rather get his head driven over by a truck than be caught dead on one, and he will certainly mutter “fucking longboarders” as one cruises by him on a wave too small for his 5’10” slip of a surfboard. Knee-high waves? Standard thruster. Mushy, onshore slop. Same standard thruster. Sure, when it gets big and perfect, he’s a good enough surfer, but if anyone dares bring a surfboard that (gasp!) was chosen with the current conditions in mind, One Board Quiver Guy will scoff so hard his lungs’ll pop out of his mouth.
Local Who’s Not a Local Guy:
Local Who’s Not a Local Guy, like One Board Quiver Guy is a half-way decent surfer. He’s been at it for years, but hit a plateau in his mid-20s. His surfboard has many stickers on it, all purchased instead of given. The stickers are from big surf brands — Billabong, Quik, etcetera — and although his wetsuit is still black, it will have a splash of color somewhere so he can find his clip on Surfline Rewind. That clip is shown to his co-workers at lunch each day to co-workers who are tired of watching his clips at lunch each day. He knows many of the real locals, and will be exceedingly nice to them because he believes he is one of them. But if someone paddles out with an unfamiliar face, he’ll be the first to passive aggressively sit on them, ensuring that the interloper is aware that getting a wave at this particular spot is a privilege, not a right, and Local Who’s Not a Local Guy is the guy who determines if you’re eligible. He does have a redeeming quality, however. Once you have waited the amount of time that he deems sufficient, he’ll give you a stern, unsmiling nod that he believes shows that you’ve earned his respect. And earning Local Who’s Not a Local Guy’s respect is not an easy thing to do. You should be happy that you have it. But he will forget your face the next time you paddle out and the whole cycle will reoccur.
Constant State of Rage Guy:
Constant State of Rage Guy, like Zero Etiquette Guy, is probably pretty good at surfing. And again like Zero Etiquette Guy, he does not appear to enjoy surfing. He does, however begrudgingly follow our unwritten rules, but if you’re paddling for a wave and you miss it, he’ll let you know how much you suck by staring over his shoulder at you and shaking his head. You have disappointed him and you should be ashamed of yourself. He attacks each wave like it slept with his sister, demolishing the lip with almost-bogged hacks that would be great if they weren’t almost bogged. Every now and then, though, he will not bog a rail and the turn will be pretty damn good. He, however, will not react. Instead, he’ll paddle back out shaking his head, showing how disappointed he is in himself for a turn that, in his head, he knows was great. He does not speak, instead avoiding all eye-contact with others in the lineup, sits far out the back shoulders hunched, staring stoically at the horizon. If he does see someone he knows, he will nod, scowl intact, and paddle a few yards farther away, lest he becomes mired in a conversation that might, just might, be an enjoyable one.
Paddle For Every Wave But Never Gets It Guy:
Paddle For Every Wave But Never Gets It Guy is one of the most infuriating types of surfers, but he knows not what he does. He is a little bit past the learners stage — he can pop up relatively easily and can navigate his way awkwardly down a wave — but he is a little too confident in his abilities. If he, like Local Who’s Not a Local Guy, would watch a Surfline Rewind, he would be quickly humbled. But he will tell himself that that particular wave did not exemplify his surfing and maybe that wasn’t even him and he couldn’t possibly surf so stink-buggy. He moves around the lineup at a frantic pace, kicking his feet with his surfboard just a little too far forward under his chest, plowing through the water like a tugboat pulling a cargo ship. In a lineup without a defined take-off spot, he will appear to be almost in the right spot for every wave, whether it’s a small insider or a big set wave. No one knows how he’s able to transport himself to almost the right spot with such frequency, and yet, he does. But never quite in the right spot. The big outside sets? He’s too far outside. He will paddle with such force that the sea might part, but he cannot paddle hard enough to actually get it. When he realizes this, he will give a few double-arm paddles before throwing his head back in frustration, blaming the wave instead of his positioning. Little insiders? He’ll be too deep, but will whistle at the guy in the right spot. More often than not, the guy in the right spot will be thrown by Paddle For Every Wave But Never Gets It Guy’s confidence and pull back with just enough time to watch Paddle For Every Wave But Never Gets It Guy go over the falls. When he pops up, Paddle For Every Wave But Never Gets It Guy will look anywhere but at the guy he whistled at.
