Surfers suck at life,…

…bro.

Ten years ago, a few friends and I pulled up to the beach in Hampton, New Hampshire for a pre-surf wave check. A fellow passenger made this observation of someone in the water — “That guy is PUMPING.” Misinterpreting the collective eye rolling as misunderstanding, she clarified — “I live in CALIFORNIA and my BOYFRIEND surfs. PUMPING is what that guy was doing as he moved along the wave.” “NO SHIT” would have been the appropriate response, however being hung over; I merely groaned and threw myself out of the car.

I share this story to call attention to a misconception in popular culture regarding the sport of surfing. Surfing is portrayed as a tribe of happy-go-lucky dudes; wandering around looking for good waves, fire pits on the beach with ukuleles and opportunities to “share the stoke bro!” While the handsome mans in the cover photo fit that bill, I contend this attitude is far from the norm and in fact a rarity.

Though the surfer of this portrayal exists, you must look hard for him and her, all while swatting away the more common vibe of today’s surfer — omnipotent dick. Like the informative nitwit from paragraph one, the typical surfer is a self-absorbed bozo, looking to drop in on others, strut about all Cool and Tough while displaying a farcical knowledge of the swell direction and its profound effect on the surf.

Let me rewind. My brother, Tyler, and I learned to surf together in New Hampshire (yes, they have waves) during college. A summer prior, we had the opportunity to try it out on Cape Cod. Looking back, the waves were closer to ripples but that 1 foot wave created an addiction that has not gone away. I don’t recall if there was a formal agreement or if it just sort of happened but the following winter, we got up every single morning — EARLY — and headed to the beaches of NH.

If it was Lake Atlantic, we’d don 75 pounds of wetsuit rubber and paddle around like a couple of jack asses, so excited to splash about in the water that the lack of waves was irrelevant. And on one particular day, in full jack assery, we paddled into 10 foot storm surf. Somehow, I made it out but Tyler did not. I recall the waves being so big, that as I bobbed into the troughs, I could see naught but the backside of the wave I just slid down. With a mere 1 month surfing experience under my belt, urine may not have been the only thing warming my wetsuit that day.

So you see, surfing is as awesome and exciting as it’s made out to be. And stoke is a real phenomenon. To wit — Tyler and I gleefully strapped 10 foot logs to his Cherokee’s roof in the middle of a snowstorm with the thermometer reading 15 degrees. Are there waves? Who gives a shit! Let’s go surfing! Perhaps more telling was the time I picked Tyler up at his apartment one early AM. I came upon his slack-jawed self, covered in Oreo cookie crumbs, passed out drunk on the couch. With a mere 3 hours of non-REM sleep, Tyler summoned that jackass strength and managed to worm into his cold, damp wetsuit — no small feat.

“Oh ho!” you may be saying, this author has surfed a whopping 13 miles of coastline, on the East Coast, and calls himself expert on the culture of surfing? I’m no expert but I have been fortunate to surf most of the East Coast, half the West Coast, Central America and Hawaii. Point is, I’ve been around plenty of surfers and had time to observe their attitudes. And the truth is, I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve had a positive interaction with a fellow surfer.

This would be an example of a positive interaction:

Enjoying the surf one day at El Porto in sunny SoCal, I paddled for a wave and looked behind me to see another guy slightly deeper, scratching for the same peak. As I pulled back to give him the wave, he exclaimed “Go go go, it’s all you!” Upon paddling back out, I headed over to this unicorn of a surfer and thanked him for the generosity. “Sure” he said, “there’s plenty of waves!” Now this attitude is what I believe most people think surfing is characterized by. Unfortunately, that’s the 1 in 10 experience. The other 9 times are not so good.

This would be an example of the 90% interaction:

Loving life during a trip to Costa Rica and surfing a break just across the river mouth from Tamarindo, I dropped into a glorious right. As I slipped down the face, a clown in a surfer costume was paddling back out. He managed to suddenly get directly in my way; such that to avoid mowing him down required some squirrely maneuvering. So squirrely in fact that I ate it — for the first time ever. Now, there was no collision, just some briefly raised heartbeats. On the paddle back out, the clown was paddling for shore. “Sorry about that man” I declared, “you OK?” “STUPID” he replied, with a look on his face that implied I was a complete dickhead.

Some other examples of this terrific, 90/100, behavior:

Walking towards the beach with my board and being told “You can’t surf, there’s no waves” by a group of snappy locals.

Thanks for the hot tip NERD. Since I don’t surf the World Tour, I’m willing to surf the miserable waist high sets with light offshores on a sunny, 75 degree Saturday morning.

Sharing how fun the waves were with a surfer and then being told “It was WAY better at this spot. The 374 degree North South West swell LIGHTS UP the cobblestone reef there.”

Of course it was better there Cool Guy. And I bet you got SOOO barreled.

Two people, sitting 3 feet apart in the water discussing the specs of Kelly Slater’s quiver. But speaking loud enough to be heard across the stadium at a monster truck rally.

I am in awe of your stupendous grasp of board tech, Commander, and also that you personally know SL8R.

Receiving the hairy eyeball from a shortboarder as you paddle out on a longboard.

Forgive me monsieur! I neglected to notice the extreme rippability of these knee high walls of smush! I see you have stickers on your surfing board. You must be sponsored. I will do my very best to stay out of your way!

This is of course my personal experience. Kelly Slater, arguably the best surfer of all time, is reputed to be the 1 in 10 dude. Anecdotally, I’ve heard of guys surfing the same waves as Slater and being encouraged, by the man himself, to take a wave they’re both paddling for. I tend to think this is accurate as most 3rd party stories about celebrities exaggerate the bad traits in the individual. But that’s Kelly Slater, the consummate pro, not one of the slobbering masses.

So there you have it: Surfers — in general — are a bunch of puffed up, holier than thou, condescending shit bags. So what does that make me?