Women, surfing, big wave, California, photography
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Thursday, February 7, 2019
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[The Women of Big-Wave Surfing](
By DANIEL DUANE
[Paige Alms surfing at Maverick's in December.](
Paige Alms surfing at Maverick's in December. Dina Litovsky/Redux, for The New York Times
For this weekâs cover story in the magazine, [I wrote about four women who have been fighting for gender equity in one of the most gorgeous and frightening sports on Earth, big-wave surfing.]( I have been personally besotted with big-wave surfing since I was a little kid listening to my Uncle Jim Duane describe wiping out on a huge wave at Waimea Bay in Hawaii.
I first saw big waves with own eyes in Decemeber 1994, while driving from my parentsâ home in the Bay Area down the coast to Santa Cruz. I was spending every free minute surfing at the time, and I recall being astonished by the appearance of the ocean surface that day â smooth, deep blue and corrugated with gargantuan bands of what looked like wide-wale corduroy all the way to the horizon â deepwater swell rolling in from the North Pacific.
Like surfers everywhere, I had just learned that a proper big-wave break called Maverickâs lay somewhere along my driving route â it has since become one of the most famous big-wave spots in the world and is the main battleground for the political struggle described in my article for the magazine. At the time, Maverickâs was known to only a handful of surfers.
Hoping to see it, I pulled off the highway at Princeton, a scruffy little fishing town. I parked in a dirt lot full of pickups with dirty towels in their truck beds, then scrambled to the top of a bluff. A small crowd looked out to sea toward what appeared to be a flock of tiny shorebirds floating among eight-foot waves. I heard someone say that [some kid named Jay Moriarty had just taken a spectacular wipeout](. When one of those shorebirds caught a wave, I realized it was a grown man on a 10-foot surfboard riding a wave with a 40-to-50-foot face.
The big swell lasted all week. Down in Santa Cruz, over the next few days, I rode the biggest waves of my life â up to 18 feet on the face. I fantasized about someday riding Maverickâs and imagined that I would order one of the specialized surfboards known as big-wave guns (a.k.a. elephant guns, or rhino chasers). That Friday, I drove back north for Christmas break. I did not stop at Maverickâs, so I did not get to see four of the worldâs most famous big-wave riders surfing there. Later, I heard on the news that one of them, [Mark Foo, fell on a modest wave and disappeared. When Foo was found floating facedown and dead]( another famous surfer recalled falling on a wave after Fooâs and, deep underwater, bumping into what he figured was Fooâs body.
I had no business at any break that could kill the great Mark Foo, so I put Maverickâs out of mind. I moved to San Francisco in 1997 and started surfing Ocean Beach, where one of the main players in the cover story, Bianca Valenti, surfs today. I fell into a warm crowd of surfers at Ocean Beach and befriended a veteran Maverickâs surfer named Mark Renneker, who was with Foo when he died. Renneker was kind enough to encourage me to join him at Maverickâs, but I was too scared. I resisted until 2006, when two other surfers, Keith Malloy and Jeff Johnson, invited me along. I recall the waves being about 30 to 35 feet on the face.
Keith and Jeff made it look easy, so I paddled for a wave and caught it. I stood up only to get bucked off my surfboard by some unexpected heave in the crest. As I fell, I penetrated the water surface and slipped out the back of the wave. I came up for air in time to see the wave detonating over rock reef with horrifying power. I climbed onto my surfboard, paddled to the safety of deeper water and stayed there.
Bianca Valenti surfing at Maverickâs. ââThis is where Iâm meant to be,ââ she says.Â
Dina Litovsky/Redux, for The New York Times
I didnât go back to Maverickâs until last October, [while reporting my story]( for the opening ceremony of the [World Surf League Maverickâs Challenge](. Six of the surfers mentioned [in this story]( were there: Bianca Valenti, Keala Kennelly, Andrea Moller, Emily Erickson, Jamila Star and Sarah Gerhard. Jeff Clark, the early pioneer of Maverickâs big-wave surfing, socialized with smiling locals. Middle-school boys and girls looked admiringly at adult male and female competitors â equally strong, vibrant, healthy and full of the radiant joy that comes from taking risks in the successful pursuit of passion.
After the ceremony, I joined those athletes and a few other locals in paddling out to the break. The waves werenât nearly big enough to qualify as proper Maverickâs, only eight to 10 feet on the face. Still, I was delighted to catch a wave, get to my feet and then fly along in the wind and mist with the effortless speed that any surfer can tell you is an incomparable pleasure.
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