Post session, when it’s all worth it, regardless of how long you’re there. Photo: Philip Kammerer//Unsplash
A recent exhibit at the Surfing Heritage and Cultural Center got me thinking that travel is, perhaps, the most central component to surfing. From Duke Kahanamoku sharing surfing across the world to Naughton and Peterson documenting their experiences to captivated audiences well before the invention of YouTube, I can’t put it better than Randy Rarick, who said, “the adventure makes being a surfer like nothing else on Earth. It’s out there, just go chase it!”
Now, Randy Rarick makes it sound simple. He has a knack for explaining intricate board designs or historical events in a way everyone can understand. While surf travel is, in a sense, simple, “getting out there and chasing it” involves making a lot of decisions first. Where do you want to go? For how long? With who? Are you bringing a board or hoping someone can sell you one there?
I’ve grappled with these questions before, and I’ve discussed surf travel before. Your decisions tend to weigh on you when you’re spending the fiftieth night in a spider-infested bungalow, showering with cold-water from a hose hooked up through a thin wall. Your decisions also weigh on you any time you check your bank account or work schedule. For the vast majority of us, time and money are finite resources, so even when it comes to something as seemingly arbitrary as planning a surf trip, decisions matter.
Surf travel can, more or less, be grouped into two categories: long-term travel and short-term trips. Months spent in a foreign country during peak swell season, indefinite solo surf adventures, road trips down the Baja, camping trips that last longer than a week or two, and even study abroad experiences could fall into the former. Strike missions, Mentawais boat trips, work travel, family vacations, reunions with friends, camping trips under two weeks, and road trips fall into the latter (short-term) category. But the question remains: which type of surf travel is better?
The word “better” is nebulous, so here, “better” can be defined as more financially rewarding, more personally rewarding, closest to the adventure level one is seeking, more flexible, and better suited to challenge one’s surfing. However, all of these factors are highly specific to individuals, which is why it is admittedly tough to give a blanket statement deeming one type of travel “better” than the other, all the time.
Finances are usually the first, and biggest, factor in planning a surf trip. Finances also usually dictate the length of one’s surf trip, as cost and comfort are inversely correlated. Given the decision to live in Hawaii for three months sharing a room with three other surfers versus go for one week and stay in a beachfront condo, most people already know their answer. But it’s worth mentioning, because if time spent in a place, or comfort in a place is most important, it can help flush out the other factors in planning the trip.
I’m also going to go out on a limb here and say this idea applies doubly because the element of youth, or, uh, frothing, is needed to make this one work. Unless you’re Timmy Turner, camping, staying in hostels, splitting lodging with friends, or straight-up “bumming it” are all age-old traditions that supposedly get less fun with age. Oh wait, no, the joys of modern-day technology appeal even to Timmy Turner, sometimes, too.
Jokes aside, age and financial status make it easier or harder to justify spending an extra ten bucks a night for air conditioning. Is it your fifth time staying in the tropics, or your first? It’s not a bad idea to make the most of the time you have being excited about discomfort as opposed to avoiding it, because there are only so many cockroaches you can see before you decide to open your wallet and take the guesswork out of packing bug nets on your next Central American surf trip. Given the same budget, short-term trips win out if your primary goal is comfort and relaxation. Long-term travel prevails for those willing to experience some less-than-ideal situations during the course of their adventure.
It’s also worth noting that short-term surf trips can absolutely be feral, dangerous, and action-packed. Nathan Florence, the king of the strike mission, has experienced (and recorded) more than his fair share of travel ordeals during short trips. Florence also has no excuse for lack of funds, so take all of this with a grain of salt.
The second part of the financial component is how much bang for your buck you get with a short trip versus a long one. “Bang for your buck” can be another grey area in terms of locking down a definition, because an experience that is priceless for one person may be worth skipping to another.
Perhaps the best way to measure this, since it is a theoretical surf trip, after all, is simply by averaging out the quality of each session had during that trip. More average sessions can’t beat out a few stellar ones, but that only works if your shorter trip actually contains those fewer, amazing sessions. Perhaps the comparison between surfing and gambling is tired, but there’s a reason. Betting on your own time is a tricky game, and a longer trip ensures there is a bigger window to score, or at least see some swell. A short-term trip can mean hitting the jackpot and seeing perfect waves while missing the downtime associated with longer trips, but it can also mean a negative outcome, with no real redemption since there’s less of a chance to engage in anything meaningfully while there, which brings me to my next topic: personal growth.
Call it what you want: reflection, adventure, challenge, character development… it doesn’t matter. What matters is that there is some component of personal change spurred by travel. Now, this can absolutely happen with short-term surf trips, but in my experience, it is often associated with longer stints of travel. Perhaps the most memorable moments occur in minuscule time frames – being held underwater for just a few seconds, a checkpoint scare in Baja, the puddle jumper’s descent into an area so desolate you fight second thoughts — but the real reflection and growth often occurs during times of boredom. Boredom is impossible to have without adequate time.
It is also difficult to interact with the place around you without downtime from purely surfing, and this is often intentionally missed by booking shorter trips. Connecting with people who live in the place you’re visiting, visiting cool spots (like secret lookouts or hike-to waterfalls), and practicing a new language are possible during short trips, but way easier and almost a requirement of longterm travel.
Lastly, improving one’s personal surfing skills varies highly by the length of one’s trip. The benefits of a longterm trip include a bigger window for waves, different conditions, a chance to acclimate to the wave on offer, and so on. But longterm trips also allow for routine to set in, and that can hinder one’s motivation to surf. Normal distractions fight their way back into the picture, often including work if it’s a really long trip, and you can find yourself exactly where you were back home, except without your favorite stuffed animal and reliable wifi.
Short-term trips offer a distinct “vacation” window to focus solely on surfing, if that’s what you want. The carved-out time can make it easier to be mindful and shed your thoughts of anything bugging you besides waves and improving whatever water skills you’re working on in that moment. Short-term trips also give you a longer build-up for a shorter window of vacation, and often the anticipation of experiencing a new place, new waves, or whatever else gets you going to put your wetsuit on and brave the two-foot, cold-water waves at your disposal is more valuable than actually getting on the plane when the time comes.
The decisions are many, but the action of going is simple. Once you decide on your budget, your priorities, where you want to surf, and how comfortable you want to be, the rest will come fairly easily. Either way, there are going to be upsides and downsides. Maybe you go on a week-long trip somewhere, fall in love, and move there years later. Maybe you prepare for a season-long stint somewhere and hate it after two weeks. The best part of travel, long or short, is that plans can always change, and even if it’s the worst experience of your life, it gives you a greater appreciation for the waves at home.
