I am heading North on the highway. It’s 4:30 in the morning. Estimated arrival time is 5:35. First light is at 5:37. Tide is incoming, wind is predicted to be light offshore, and there are supposed to be waves. I have left the house wearing my wetsuit. I will eat breakfast in the car which I have prepared the night before. I will be in the water before sunrise, surf for a few hours, snap a couple of photos and zip back to Boston just in time to make the pixels.
This session is not happening by chance. This is the result of careful forecasting, faith and follow-through. Because all of the ingredients are there, this is a best-case scenario for a weekday dawn patrol. It is a no-brainer. But for the obsessed city surfer it is not always quite this easy.
Since I first started surfing, I have weighed the pros and cons of living close to a break and commuting to the city vs. living in the city and commuting to the surf. For a couple of summers I even rented a room in Rhode Island close to one of my favorite spots just to see what it would be like. It was very part-time from March thru September but I got a little taste, and it was delicious.
This was a sanctuary dedicated to surf. I had an alarm clock, basic toiletries, and an empty closet. It was spartan, yet spiritually luxurious in its simplicity. Rolling down to the ocean at sunrise and sharing the moment with a few fellow surfers felt natural; the way life should be; free from the endless calculations and worry about wasting gas and getting skunked after driving an hour and a half. I went from slumber to surf in under 10 minutes with only the saltwater to wake me up. I fell asleep to the sound of the foghorns. There were no surf cams to check, only real time. I knew the wind direction from the breeze coming through my window. Of course, it was good. So good that as I write this I get homesick for it all. I think about that room at least once a day. I also learned a couple of things during that time…
Did you know that there are people who check the surf at first light every morning even when Magicseaweed says “zero stars” and onshore wind? Did you know that many times there are actually decent waves on those mornings? These are waves that the mechanical, data-crunching robots behind the surf report websites are too primitive to detect. This is because they have not yet invented the necessary radar required to predict miracles. But they do happen. Small windows of surf that go undetected by us sorry city dwellers; sessions we do not even know we are sleeping through.
As a city surfer, I feel isolated at times. I crave surf-themed movie screenings, art shows, and community service opportunities or even a local surf shop to stop in at. The separation between surf and life is so severe. My Facebook account is saturated with surfers and groups from East to West coasts and beyond that seem to be living the dream. I friend people and then when it becomes too torturous to see their daily “just went surfing” status messages, I hide them.
It may sound from all of this that there are more pros than cons in living near the surf… and that may very well be true. Still, I continue to reside full-time in the city, scouring the reports, watching the cams and always trying to figure out how, when and where I can get a surf. This year there will be no room by the sea but there will still be plenty of sessions.
And there is the upside to being a city surfer, too. Sure, there is the occasional epic city session. But one of the best things about being at a near equal distance to points north and south is being able to explore the many different parts of New England in search of perfect waves. Part of what makes surfing a unique sport is not just the search for great waves, but the reward in finding the waves that make you the most happy. I have found so many ridiculously happy places all up and down the New England coast and I know there are more to find. The quest is never-ending and sometimes I think I would miss out if I set my anchor in one place.
I think back to life before surfing and how carefree I must have been, but I would never give up this sport that makes me so crazy and so damn in love. Besides, I am already in way too deep. Perhaps one day I will pick up and go someplace where surfing is easy. But for now, I think the effort makes the good sessions all the more sweet. I guess I’ll take that… for now.
