Inside Men

Freeriders Drop Into Central California’s Giant Waves

Text by Andrew Morin

Photography by Mike Jones

Beep! Beep! Beep!

It’s 4am, Saturday morning when my cell phone alarm clock pierced the predawn silence. Tossing and turning in my bed since 1am, I’ve been unable to sleep thinking about the day ahead. The plan was to catch a building winter swell -- churned up in the Gulf of Alaska days earlier -- that was on a collision course with Central California. We’re going to a secret spot, an open ocean reef that is known to produce thick, ledging tubes over a mile offshore, known only to locals and big wave surfers.

Today would mark my first trip to this spot. Although rarely ridden by stand-up skis, it is frequented by top professional tow-surfers as it is generally too heavy for traditional paddle surfing. I’ve seen many photos of this particular wave and I knew we would be in for an epic day if the conditions cooperated.

(Above: Before being dropped-in on by stand-up skis, this place was a closely held secret of tow-in surfers)

I jumped in my truck, loaded down with my SuperJet, a beach tote, rescue sled, gas cans and a Yamaha WaveRunner SUV on a trailer. The SUV would serve as the perfect platform for Mike Jones, photographer and owner of AzHiAzIAm, to get a front-row view of the action and put him close enough to work his photographic magic.

I left my home in Santa Barbara and slowly drove over the windy mountain passes well before the sun begun to peek over the horizon in the east. I arrived at the harbor, meeting up with Taylor Curtis, Jerry Brandon and Mike. Along with the SUV, Taylor provided his tow-sled-equipped Yamaha SHO as a rescue vehicle, just in case things went south. The sun was barely rising as the WaveRunners idled past the markers on our way to the reef.

When we arrived at the reef, it wasn’t looking too good. Big waves were breaking but the tide was too high for the reef. The waves were peaking up, but not producing the thick tubes we had hoped for. We carved some turns on the large swells for the camera, but this wasn’t what we had come for. We decided our best bet was to wait for the tide to drop and keep our fingers crossed that the wind didn’t switch around to its regular north-west direction.

(Above: It might be a little too big for tow-surfing…)

Waiting eagerly on the beach, I was beginning to become discouraged. I had envisioned scoring perfect waves and it was starting to look as if it wasn’t going to happen. I was considering driving home, but Taylor and Jerry convinced me to wait it out a little longer. High tide peaked at 11am and I told my self if it wasn’t happening by 12 o‘clock, I was out of there.

Like magic, two minutes after high tide peaked, the waves started appearing on the horizon. Huge sets could be seen on the outer reef and we knew it was going to get serious. Jerry was the first in the water, with Taylor and me following close behind. Once past the beach break, the ocean seemed so calm it was eerie.

I had butterflies in my stomach as I approached where I thought the take off zone would be. In between sets, the ocean would go flat and it was impossible to tell where the previous wave had broken. As soon as I got out to the area where the SUV was floating, a large wave popped up out of the glass. I told myself, “This is it!” and raced for the peak.

(Above: Andrew's made in the shade)

As the wave began to stand up, I faded back towards the bowl and slightly let off the throttle as I waited to see what the wave was going to do. In a split second the wave hit the reef head-on and instantly increased in size. I got into a low, stable stance, not knowing what I was in for. The water started pulling off the reef and I could see the rocks boiling under the bow of my ski. As I got to the bottom of the wave I was telling myself to stay calm and focused. Then the beast reared its ugly head.

As fast as the wave had appeared from nowhere, it threw out a gaping tube as wide as it was tall. I could see the lip feathering down the line and I knew that if I went down, I was in serious trouble. The sound of the wave breaking around me was thunderous. My heart was racing in my chest and I tucked even lower and kept my eyes focused on the WaveRunners out in the channel, knowing that was where I needed to end up.

(Above: Gurgle, gurgle...)

I could see even more water pulling up the face of the wave and the tube became rounder and rounder as the lip thickened. The face of the wave was like a sheet of glass at this point, very deceiving with the danger lurking overhead. I knew that if I maintained my line I would make it to the channel safely, but just as I thought I was out of danger I could feel the lip crashing down inches from the rear of my tray. I increased my grip on the throttle and just like that, I was out – safely making a circle around the runabouts.

(Above: Exiting the cave)

The feeling was indescribable. I have been surfing most of my life and have been riding skis for over two years now, and this was easily the ride of my life. My adrenaline was pumping like it never has before. To conquer that, and come out ahead gives you a natural high that I’d never imagined.

The rest of the session was filled with awesome rides by all the riders. As the tide dropped, the waves became meaner and uglier. Taylor and Jerry were charging hard, air dropping off the mid-face ledge like it was a walk in the park. I got a few more great rides out there but, to me, nothing compared to this first wave. I can’t wait to ride there again and try to top the wave of my life.

Special thanks to:

Wamilton’s Customs, Solas Impellers, Hydro-Turf, AzHiAzIAm, Full Spectrum Carburetors, Lehr Performance Watercraft