How many surfers can one spot take? Depends, right? But the author has ideas. Photo: John Withers//Unsplash
A few years back, I was asked to participate in an extensive Zoom conference hosted by a well-meaning but woefully uninformed advocacy group working toward the goal of providing public access to the coastline of the exclusive, privately-owned Hollister Ranch, located just to the west of Gaviota, California.
Yeah, surfing’s original Ranch. During the Zoom conference, however, it became obvious that the advocacy group knew virtually nothing about the Ranch and its primary users, but rather focused their efforts on providing access to “beachwalkers,” as if a family of five from nearby Lompoc was going to leave the convenience of nearby Gaviota State Park, make the arduous six-mile hike to sit on a beach with no shade, amenities and toilets, then trek back out at the end of the day, probably carrying the kids at this point.
For my part, I patiently explained that the only souls hardy and determined enough to make that hike would be surfers; their lottery-based shuttle bus idea would also cater almost exclusively to surfers. But it was when they suggested that in either case they figured the area could accommodate several hundred newly-entitled visitors per day, that my jaw hit the floor — how in the hell did they come up with that number? Especially when they had to ask me — and after decades of research, I might add — how many surf spots we were talking about, and how many surfers each could effectively accommodate?
This is when I first heard the term, “Visitor Use Capacity.” Shrugged it off, too, like, “We’re not visitors, we’re surfers, and don’t need any studies or metrics to address ‘capacity’ issues. That’s what asshole localism is for.”
So, fast forward to last week. Surfing around online I came across a beautiful, ‘iwa bird’s-eye drone shot of Pipeline on a good west-swell day. At first it looked like the lineup was scattered with colorful confetti, but peering closer I realized that the pattern wasn’t made up of confetti but individual surfers: 87 of them, not counting those caught inside. First thought: Unbelievable. Second thought: That Zoom conference.
Didn’t take me long to Google up the U.S. government’s “Interagency Visitor Use Management Council” and its official Visitor Capacity Guidebook. And even the briefest perusal revealed that I was wrong—”visitor use capacity” metrics could, and probably should, be effectively applied to surfing. Consider the essential definition of the term:
“Visitor capacity, a component of visitor use management, is defined as the maximum amounts and types of visitor use that an area can accommodate while achieving and maintaining the desired resource conditions and visitor experiences that are consistent with the purposes for which the area was established.”
Sure, they’re talking mostly about National Parks and waterways, but the point is clear: too many “visitors” taking advantage of a particular recreational resource ends up degrading the experience for all. As in Rincon on any given Sunday…or any other day of the week.
Okay, the IVUMC has clearly identified the problem, but what about the solution? Glad you asked. In fact, they’ve come up with a metric system to categorize various resource sites and their visitor use impact, and if it wasn’t designed specifically for surfing, you could’ve fooled me. Consider the following site designations, the associated percentage being the estimated reduction in “visitors” necessary to provide the ideal experience of said recreational resource.
Low: Occasional instances of visitor conflicts, perceived crowding, and impacts to environmental resources at isolated locations. Suggested visitor reduction: None.
Moderate: Occasional to frequent instances of visitor conflicts, perceived crowding, and impacts to environmental resources at multiple locations. Suggested visitor reduction: 25 percent.
High: Ongoing instances of visitor conflicts, perceived crowding, and impacts to environmental resources over a large part of the analysis area. Suggested visitor reduction: 50 percent.
Simply for the sake of discussion, let’s apply the good council’s visitor capacity impact metric directly to surf spots, taking into account that relatively few park visitors are actually physically fighting over parking spots and picnic tables (although aggro Glacier National Park grizzlies are, essentially, saying, “If you don’t live here, don’t hike here!”). I’ll also add that the interagency guidebook includes an important caveat: “There is no single formula for allocating visitor capacity. Rather, allocations should be based on local conditions, agency guidance, desired conditions, and professional judgment.”
That’s where I come in, at least the “professional judgement” bit. The following are my own visitor capacity ratings, based on personal experience at the various international surf spots included*:
Low: Canoes (Hawaii), San Onofre (California) Cǒte des Basque (France), Matosinhos (Portugal). Suggested surfer reduction: none.
Moderate: C-Street (California), Ruggles (Rhode Island), Bells Beach (Australia), Jeffreys Bay (South Africa). Suggested surfer reduction: 40 percent.
High: Pipeline (Hawaii) Lower Trestles (California), Snapper Rocks (Australia), Mundaka (Spain). Suggested surfer reduction: 60 percent.
Here’s how I worked that out, and I’ll use the 87 surfers out at Pipeline last week as an example.
By my calculation, a 60 percent reduction of those 87 leaves us with 34.8 surfers. Minus the Ho Family, we’re at 31.8. That leaves room for six dominant older Pipe locals, ten hot local up-and-comers, five unknown local chargers, five off-island, multi-season devotees, four first-timers from Pearl City and one crazy stand-up paddler. The .8 are those who don’t make it out through the rip. This reduction in numbers would clearly result in a (potentially) enhanced experience for everyone out there – the rest of us should be watching from shore anyway.
By my reckoning, this sort of guideline, when applied to most popular surf spots, would go far in relieving a lot of the anxiety associated with today’s typical surfing experience. Trouble is, of course, that surfing doesn’t come with a guidebook, or interagency council, or visitor use management metrics — we’ve just got to slug it out with every other one of us out there looking forward to “…achieving and maintaining the desired resource conditions and visitor experiences that are consistent with the purposes for which the area was established.”
Shame, isn’t it?
*Naturally, virulent disagreement is welcomed in the comment section (barring those from surfers living within three blocks of any of the breaks mentioned. We already know your reduction estimate would hit 99.9 percent.)
