Outer Banks Surf - Wave Barreling

I’ll preface this post with a few thoughts about our Outer Banks Everyday Magic series.

1. Sorry this post is so long, but I write for a living, so sometimes I get a bit wordy.
2. Your story most definitely does not need to be this lengthy, but don’t hold back…give me your full story.
3. Pretty please with a cherry on top use the form below to share your story with me. I’m dying to know the magic that the OBX gives you.
4. Now on to the longest post in the the history of posts…

Gerry Lopez: “One of the big lessons you learn about surfing is how to operate in the present.  That’s really what the foundation of the entire surfing experience is.“

Let’s start with a quick explanation of why the Outer Banks is such a rad surf spot. Here are a few lines from a post I put out waaaay back in 2009…

Year after year the shores of the Outer Banks offer consistent great swell and premier surf conditions.  A major reason the OBX beaches offer such excellent surf is because of the way the shoreline is situated against the ocean. The area’s narrow continental shelf allows  swells to hit many areas of the coastline unaffected by outside forces, and because the barrier islands wrap in an almost horseshoe fashion, swells from a variety of directions can create great waves.

The ideal locale of the Outer Banks allows low pressures, Nor’ Easters, and significant tropical systems to send swell unimpeded towards the exposed coastline.  When wind conditions cooperate, these environmental forces can create some of the best waves the east coast has to offer.

Due to the Outer Banks’ relative isolation, and long coastline, surfers also have the chance to surf a variety of different surf spots with low crowds. On the Outer Banks, if you pull up to a spot that is overcrowded, a desolate surf spot is just a short drive away.

As you may be able to glean from the title of this post and my explanation of the OBX’s gnarly surf conditions, I’m a surfer. But unlike many OBX locals, I was not born and raised a surfer. In fact, my surfing days didn’t start until I was in my early 20′s! But I can tell you that I don’t ever intend them to stop.

Growing up outside of Boston, MA, surf never really registered in my mind as an option, and prior to the invention of the internet (I know, I can’t believe we lived without it either!), all we really knew was what we had immediate access to.  I’ve always loved the beach, and I spent many summer days with sand between my toes, but the beach was always a day trip for us, not a lifestyle. I was never exposed to a surf culture, and it never dawned on me that surf was even available in the Northeast.

In my mind, the beach shut down once school started, and I focused my attention on the boarding options that were readily available, mainly snowboarding. While I envisioned the clear crossover from snowboarding to surfing, it always seemed like a sport that was out of reach; I was too far from the beach, it was too cold, I didn’t know anyone that surfed, etc.

I’m not sure what finally tipped me off to the idea of surf, but at 23 I ordered a how-to book online, read it cover to cover, rented a soft-top surfboard and spent a day in the water.  And I’ve never been the same.

I bought my first board the next day, and as I eased my way out of the water after the first day with my new 9 foot companion, I made a promise to myself that I would live at a beach. After a day and a half of actual surf experience, I was so infused with love for the way of life that I couldn’t imagine being without it.  My promise seemed almost comical at the time, but down deep I knew how sincere I was.

Unfortunately, at 23 life has such an intense degree of flux that it is difficult to make clear life plans, and I was in a state of instability that wouldn’t end anytime soon.  In a 13 year span following graduation from high school, I moved 15 times.  This is not counting short moves for summer breaks or quick stays at Mom and Dad’s during times of limbo, and none of the 15 moves were intended to be short moves.  The early 20’s are an unstable time, and I guess I was in search of something.  What?  I’m still not sure, but my guess is meaning and direction.

When surf entered my blood and altered my state of mind, I had already quit my first job out of college and sworn off the corporate world entirely.  I was staying with my parents in my childhood bedroom and working one day a week at bars in Boston.  It was summer, and I had time so, I dedicated every opportunity to surfing; driving hours to hit spots in Rhode Island and Massachusetts.  I was slowly improving, but more importantly the surf lifestyle was seeping into each and every pore.

Then life happened.  I made a last minute decision to accept a scholarship to a law school on Long Island.  Before the summer ended, I was in New York.  It seemed ok because they have waves on Long Island, but in retrospect, I was making the uncalculated decisions of a 23 year old with little direction.  Society tells me I should have a career path, so I guess I’ll follow this path blindly.

After a successful first year, I bailed.  It wasn’t for me.  It lacked everything that surf was slowly teaching me was important in life; freedom, nature, time alone, spiritual communion, creativity, light-heartedness, sense of humor, focus on the present.

But now my anchor was gone.  My parents had moved to Virginia to be closer to my sister.  In another state of limbo, I headed back to Boston to re-enter the bar scene that I left behind a few months earlier.  As the bars helped ends meet, I started a real estate business with a friend, but my main focus was having the freedom to surf whenever swell made it all the way up the East Coast.  The business was mildly successful, but eventually the real estate market began to show cracks, and we decided to hit the road for an up-and-coming market.

Unfortunately, the new market was the landlocked city of Charlotte, NC.  Another choice based on societal expectations.  It wouldn’t be prudent to make choices based solely on the whimsical desire to surf, right?  After all, I was approaching 30.  I should be stable.  So, ignoring what I felt so strongly in my gut, and the promise I made to myself on my first day of surfing, I moved inland.  And this is where the wheels really started to come off.

After building a business in Charlotte, plans changed quickly. My business partner of five years, and friend of 20 years, called me one Sunday night to let me know that he broke of the engagement to his fiancé and was back in Boston.  Right, partners/friends on Friday in Charlotte, and on Sunday he’s already back in Boston. I’m now left managing seven homes in a completely new city where my closest companions are my crazy dogs.  And to top it off, all I can think about is how badly I want to be at the beach, and how the current situation seems insurmountable.

The next year was quite a roller-coaster, including tenants, lawyers, accountants, surgery for a blown out knee, months of job hunting, and a lot of time spent conversing with the canine companions.  Somehow I made it through the whirlwind relatively unscathed and with a smile on my face.

The smile was mainly because after years of drifting and letting my decisions be guided by outside forces, I finally knew my direction.  I finally had the courage to focus on my dream without any concern for what others might expect of me.  At that point, my sole goal in life was to live on the Outer Banks.

I vacationed on the OBX twice, but I really didn’t know anything about it.  All I knew was that it offered some of the best surfing on the East Coast, and it seemed like the most realistic option for me to finally dedicate myself to the surf that I needed so badly.

I found a job on Craig’s List, I rented an apartment sight-unseen, and I packed my life into a U-Haul.  For someone that lacked direction for so long, it was a great feeling to have such a singularity of focus.  This was the only option.  Every fiber of my being knew it was the right choice.  I didn’t know what to expect, and I hardly knew where I was going, but I already knew I never wanted to leave.  I would never allow myself to make the mistake of being without surf in my life, and I knew the Outer Banks would fulfill this promise.

The sun drenching the Carolina coast in late October can be unexpectedly hot…but very welcomed considering the time of year.  I just ducked out of the office for a quick lunch surf session, headed across the street, and checked the waves.  It’s going off.  And the bright sun feels great.  There is a nice offshore wind and sets lining up.  As pelicans drift in and out of my immediate view, I count the surfers in the water, and I realize that the pelicans outnumber the guys in the water.  Does it get any better than this?!

Ah, but they are wearing wetsuits; the water has passed the tolerable point.

Stretching the strong rubber of a wetsuit over your body for the first colder session of the fall season can have a demoralizing effect.  The heat of summer is gone and winter is knocking on the door.  For the next six months a wetsuit is a way of life or the board collects dust in the garage.

It would be much easier for me to head back to the office and get some more work done.  But that’s not why I’m here.  I’m here to surf.  I’m here to chase dreams.  And the wetsuit offers a fitting metaphor for the challenges that will stand in the way of our dreams.

There’s no way I’m letting the wetsuits of life get in my way.  My board won’t gather dust in February.  Charging hard after dreams is how they come true, and even more amazingly, charging hard opens doors you never knew existed.

The Outer Banks is my home.  It’s the first time I have truly felt that.  I don’t ever intend to leave.

It’s easy to cast surf off as a whimsical desire for those with nothing better to do, and I hope most people fall into this trap so the waves don’t get overcrowded, but that notion ignores the deep, soulful essence of the surf lifestyle.  Surf is so much more than the action of surf, and when I dedicated myself to the goal of living with surf at the core of my belief structure, my life changed.  A twenty-something with no direction heeding the call of a deranged culture with priorities out of whack, turned into a 33 year old with a career path, a beautiful wife, two kids, and a place to call home.

It doesn’t get much more magical than that.

It almost seems irreverent to say that I owe all of that to surf, but there’s no question in my mind.  Dreams come true when you believe in them, and surf can change your life forever.  I can’t wait to pass this lesson, and this love, on to my kids.

Surf as much as you can, and follow your heart; neither will ever steer you in the wrong direction.

Pura vida.