As a tribe,
we gather in unusual locations. Our
meeting places, where stories are shared and surf culture is perpetuated are
not, I would argue, in the ocean - that is where we surf. In the water our conversations are often
stilted and broken, interrupted by the catching of waves or made difficult by
wind or distance. The ocean is where the
stories occur and where legends are made, but it is often the parking lot that
is the incubator of our culture. Almost anywhere where you can surf there is
space nearby to park a car, whether it’s on the roadside, in a large tarmac
lot, on a patch of dirt, or in a clearing in the sand dunes or forest. Sometimes where everybody parks is a walk
away from the waves, but quite often the spot where you pull up, check the waves
and get changed has a pretty good view of the surf. It’s where, in mid-winter, surfers hunch over
their steering wheels with the windscreen wipers squeaking across the glass
trying to keep warm whilst drumming up the motivation to pull on a wetsuit. It’s where we talk about the best sand banks
and surf forecasts through rolled down windows, where we compliment each other
on sick waves and look back at the sea whilst towelling off in the hope that
it’s getting worse, not better, and where we take phone-photos to show our
friends what they missed today. Most
photos of waves aren’t taken by water-photographers swimming with a housing or
stood on the sand with a zoom lens, they’re taken by surfers stood in the parking
lot; how many surfers actually walk back down the beach to take a photo?
It’s in car
parks where surfers stand with a coffee in the morning evaluating how accurate
the forecast was and rescheduling their day around planned surfs, and where
surfers lean on bonnets or sit on tailgates in the evening sharing beers and talking
story. It’s in car parks where wax is
gifted, where the secret of where car keys are stashed is guarded, and
sometimes it’s where water-borne scores are settled.
The ocean is
where we ride waves, and this is a personal and solo pursuit. The beach is, more often than not, just the
thin band of sand that we run across to get to the water. For so many though, the car par is where we
congregate. It’s where we are “surfers”,
not just a surfer.
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