Tabla de contenidos para February 2016 en Surfer

It’s hard to believe now, but until the early 1960s, Pipeline was barely known to the surf world. It was then that a brave crew of surf pioneers ventured from California to the North Shore of Oahu—considered way, way out there at the time—and survived a few harrowing tubes, forever establishing the break as a must-see surf pilgrimage in the process. Today, even though it’s the most photographed wave on Earth, Pipeline still has moments where it retains that exotic, unspoiled charm. Here, Californian Nick Rozsa carefully sticks to the trail blazed by those surf explorers half a century ago.…

In decades past, pioneering new breaks seemed easy. At the arguable peak of surf exploration, in the 1970s, globetrotting surfers appeared to be constantly stumbling upon picturesque, unridden waves while meandering along far-flung coastlines. But since then, as our collective surf maps have been gradually filled in, truly groundbreaking surf discoveries have become fewer and farther between. And thanks to global satellite imagery, modern swellforecasting technology, and the ease of air travel, it won’t be long before every single wave on Earth has been found and ridden. After all, we live on a planet with finite resources, and the number of waves is similarly fixed. Pro surfers are already chasing empty lineups in the coldest, most remote corners of the Earth, and will continue going farther and farther to find…

“People talk about FOMO— the fear of missing out—but I have a fear of people finding out what I am doing,” Mikala Jones quietly explains as we stuff boards into bags at his house in Bali, Indonesia. A few feet away, his two daughters playfully fight over the TV remote, disinterested in the mess of boards, leashes, and towels behind them. It’s a common scene in their house, and to Jones’ daughters, the thought of Daddy taking off for a week of feral exploration is hardly noteworthy. “I try to avoid going to the beach before a swell,” Jones continues, handing me a tangle of leashes. “What am I supposed to do when people ask where I am going to surf? Lie to them? Be rude and just not answer?”…

I was about 10 years old when my dad decided that it was time to take me on his annual pilgrimage to northern Baja. This was a big deal for him, but for me, not so much. Up until that point, I had been riding a 6'8" eg in crumbly San Diego beachbreaks on the weekends, thinking that it was fun, but not necessarily more so than playing Mario Kart or watching Saturday morning cartoons. Let’s just say I didn’t have “the bug” quite yet. We left before sunrise, crossed the border, and continued south, eventually leaving the pavement and bouncing down a long washboard track. Out the window, an expanse of dusty plains flew past, peppered with massive cacti, strange desert shrubs, and chalkwhite boulders. And then there were…

Teah upoo In 1985, while on his first trip to Tahiti, Mike Stewart laid eyes on what would come to be known as “The End of the Road.” But it wasn’t until his return a few years later for a contest held nearby that he and fellow bodyboarder Ben Severson tackled the slab. “When I first saw Teahupoo, it just looked like every other unrideable wave down there; I had no idea what I was looking at,” Stewart says. “A few years later, I persuaded someone with a rubber dinghy to get us to the other side of the island to explore those reefs. On the way back I could see Teahupoo peeling. The waves were about 6 feet, the winds were light offshore, and perfect barrels were peeling down…

If you make a living from surfing, you get used to performing for people. Most of the time you’re either in a competition, or you’re getting filmed for video parts. But I might enjoy surfing most when I don’t have to perform for someone. In life, I don’t think a perfect exit exists. You get to a point where you can’t fake it anymore. Sometimes it’s hard to be honest with ourselves. It’s scary to go into a new chapter in our lives. But if you don’t move forward, eventually time and age will force you to. If you want to make it on the ’CT, you need to have a certain intensity to compete against these guys. When I first qualified, I really looked up to Sunny Garcia because…

I was deep in West Java when I walked into a little warung that had no power or running water. A man stood behind the counter, cigarette dangling from his Cheshire cat grin. His name was Ateh. “Smoking?” he asked. “Tidak mau smoking,” I replied. I didn’t need a smoke. I needed to go to the bathroom. “Ada toilet?” His grin turned to a warm laugh. He pointed outside, telling me to go in the jungle. Ateh’s place was situated on the beach in a conservation park, 100 yards from a hollow right-hander and several miles from the nearest road. The nearest surf camp was much farther still. When we first started traveling through small villages like Ateh’s, we worried that we were unwelcome. It’s unnerving when 10 locals—who are…

“When we pulled up and saw these waves, Colin [Moran] and I immediately paddled out,” says Andrew Doheny. “But our boards were way too small and it took forever to get out. By the time we made it, the wind and the fog started coming in and I thought, ‘Ah, the wonderful world of surfing.’” The saying goes that when you arrive at a beachbreak in France and the waves are pumping, you’re already too late. Volatile winds and tides in the southwest region can instantly turn flawless, barreling beauts into total disarray. Unfortunately, Doheny learned this lesson the hard way. But see those tiny specks out in the lineup, off to the far left of the frame? Those few lucky surfers enjoyed the rewards of being in the right…