They’re the stuff that surfing dreams are made of — and we’ve made damn sure of that. The surf media, that is (myself, guilty as charged), who for the past 50 years or so have been featuring photos, movies, videos and clips of the world’s premier surf spots, presenting them on their very best days, ridden by the sport’s very best surfers, yet by doing so establishing a decidedly false standard of experience. The cold truth is that at so many of what are relentlessly purported to be the world’s best surf spots, even better-than-average surfers will find themselves having the worst time. And beginners and intermediates? Oh, the humanity.
The catalog of vaulted surf spots below is not intended to rate quality of waves, or even cultural significance, but simply to provide a few examples of spots that most surfers would do best to avoid, if a fun, fulfilling surfing experience is what they have in mind. Keeping in mind, of course, that the locals at all these spots will, no doubt, be very happy to find their break on this list.
URBNSURF, Melbourne, Australia
There’s a good reason why so many of these “new wave” pools promote the experience with clips of tiny, talented pro surfers ripping their slab and air sections: if they only showed how well-suited these chlorinated shorebreaks are for the average surfer, they’d hardly be able to pay their power bill. As it is, the tricky takeoff, bottomless curl and six-second interval make leash-wrapped pile-ups almost inevitable for the vast majority of surfers not already capable of the eventual air reverse. Plus, you’re surfing in an airport parking lot. Yeah, really.
Rincon, Carpenteria, California
Speaking of Rincon…yes, on a good day it’s one of the most spectacular point breaks on the planet, with ruler-edged winter swells wrapping around its cobblestone corner like spokes in a wheel, its famous glassy mornings and low-tide afternoons, and impossibly picturesque Channel Island backdrop. But no, if you’re not one of the area’s 20 or so super-hot locals and sponsored pros, don’t even think about actually getting a wave here without looking at one of their neoprene’d butts the length of the Cove. Let alone get a parking spot.
Outer Banks, North Carolina
Judged by video clips on surf forecasting sites and various YouTube channels you’d think that Cape Hatteras’ Outer Banks are North America’s epic barrel-riding capital. And you could be right…if you’re one of the very few locals who has the myriad vagaries of this super-sized sandbar all figured out, divining the necessary amalgamation of swell, wind, sand and absolutely essential four-wheel drive traction to access its ephemeral, here-today-gone-in-20 minutes tubes. Oh, and those Northeaster swells are frickin’ freezing.
Hossegor: good for about 15 minutes a day. Photo: Screenshot
Hossegor, France
Those perfect French beachbreak tubes sure look dreamy, and they are…for about 45 minutes a day. The region’s 12-to 14-foot tidal range goes far to explain this typically Gallic adage: “If the surf looks good, you’re too late.” Nothing’s more heartbreaking than witnessing the daily disappearance of that flawless sandbar you traversed so many time zones, and spent so much money, to surf. Mieux vaut rester à la maison et profiter de sa propre plage, plus fiable (try Google Translate).
Ocean Beach, San Francisco
Once the best-kept secret in all of surfing, the real secret is that those fantastic photos and clips you’ve been seeing of those epic winter peaks along the City’s Great Highway are a lie: they make Ocean Beach look like a reasonable surf spot. It most assuredly is not. Cold water, brutal, soul-crushing paddle outs, shifting “whack-a-mole” peaks that whack back hard, frosty, hard core locals who’ve spent the best years of their lives measuring their status against these odds…it’s no place for the feint-hearted. Or you, if you’re really honest with yourself.
Snapper Rocks, Queensland
It should be called the “Super-Crowded Bank.” This is the one spot on the list that’s earned its ranking based entirely on the crowd factor — and I’m not talking about the fact that along with at least 50 hot Gold Coast locals you’ll be sharing the lineup with a handful of former world champions, none of whom have reduced their wave count by a single digit. No, the crowd I’m talking about is the mass of surfers rubbing rail-to-rail the entire length of a sandbar so congested that a light-footed surfer, say a Rob Machado, could walk from the takeoff spot behind the rocks at Snapper, all the way down to Kirra, and have his feet touch nothing but fiberglass.
A tough view to come by. Photo: Koa Smith//Screenshot
Skeleton Bay, Namibia
They (whoever they are) have taken to calling it “the world’s best left.” “Best for what,” is another question entirely. The best for 40-second GoPro barrel shots – the ubiquitous POV captured from the clenched teeth of some of the world’s best surfers, who, through sheer talent or brazen chutzpah have convinced some company to finance the kind of last-second, bottom-of-the-globe, long, long way from anywhere strike mission necessary to catch it when it’s breaking. Then, if you’re among the rarified few even capable of actually riding a barrel there, only experiencing one or two makable waves the entire day? You bet. But for the rest of the tribe? Do the math.
Puerto Escondido, Mexico
This is an easy one. During the last pumping south swell at this mighty Mexican beachbreak, with heaving, heavy barrels shifting up and down the hard-as-cement sandbars, Greg Long, a longtime Puerto devotee, Eddie Aikau winner, and one of surf history’s best big wave surfers, waited out hours of horrifying closeouts before catching his one and only wave of the day. Now seriously, should you be going anywhere near a lunatic spot like this?
The North Shore, Hawaii
There’s only one safe place to be on the North Shore during its annual winter season, and that’s as a spectator on the beach, enjoying a front-row seat to the most incredible show on surf. This goes double for any surfer without an 808 area code and at least four sponsor stickers on their step-ups. Not if they want to drive up the Kam Highway through Wahiawa and back down to the Honolulu International Airport with their self-esteem — in fact, their entire sense of surfing self-worth – at least reasonably intact. It’s so heavy, so intense, so dangerous and so completely locked down by Island hellmen and women that to experience the spectacle from anywhere but the sand is doomed to be an exercise in futility, not to mention self-delusion. So to 99.9 percent of all the surfers out there, I’d say enjoy the clip, but skip the trip.
