Surfing in winter used to be a lonely pastime for the brave, foolish and wise. Brave to
take on the stormy British waves that had dropped to icy temperatures. Foolish in the
eyes of everyone else who couldn’t understand how entering the sea at that time of year was
enjoyable. And wise because they knew that by enduring ice cream headaches they could surf the
best conditions of the year by themselves. These days, you no longer need to be brave, foolish or
wise to surf through winter, you just need a decent wetsuit and internet connection to tell you when to go. lt means that those freezing solo sessions that warmed the soul through winter are getting harder and harder to score. But is that such a bad thing? Over time, the joy of turning up at a break and having it to yourself can become tinged with a hint of ‘where is everyone?‘ ls there some ridiculously strong rip that you can’t see? ls this a big lull between the huge close-out sets? ls everywhere else better? Don’t get me wrong, surfing by yourself is a magical experience and winter is still your best chance in the year to find it. Even in these crowded times, away from the main breaks and during the week, co d waves still break by themselves. But sharing waves can be an equally magical experience; it’s just that for us, it tends to happen more often than not.
Super Sunday — otherwise known as October 21st 2012 – was perhaps the best day of year so far for
waves in South West England, Wales and Ireland (p76). The clean swell pushed spots around our
coastline to their limits whilst still holding good shape. It was even sunny. And yes, at most breaks,
it was busy. But still, even on this sunny weekend that had been stamped with five stars for days,
surfers still managed to ride waves alone. For Ollie O’Flaherty, it was a case of paddling from one
crowded, scary, big wave spot to another even scarier wave that no-one wanted a piece of. lt was
the best decision he has ever made (p44). Sometimes suning solo is a choice — by trekking
miles to find your own peak, like Christian McLeod did in New York (p26), or by travelling on your own, which Tim Nunn did to find thumping Mexican barrels (p56). Sometimes, however, surfing alone is your only option, especially if you are a pioneer — as Isabel Letham was in Australia (p50) and Graham Carnegie was in Aberdeen (p38). And sometimes, the attraction of surfing is that same crowd that we end up wanting to escape. For Sonja Kappe, she saw them less as a crowd, and more as a community of friends and like-minded people (p32). Of course, some people say that you always surf alone anyway, even in the most crowded line-up. Amongst Mother Nature, it only takes a moment of fear — as a huge set bears down on you – or a moment of joy – when you drop down one of those sets – to blinker your mind from every other surfer in the water. So this winter, whether you are surfing a reef by yourself, or a beach with a crowd — whether you consider yourself brave, foolish or wise to be in the sea at all — on every freezing morning and with every mind-numbing duck-dive, know that you are doing it alone… together, with the rest of us.
Greg Martin
Editor (and lonely surfer)