I watched a video clip the other day that really got me to thinking about the concept of “progressive” surfing. You know, the term that gets bandied about quite a bit by professional competition commentators when describing tail-high lip slides and end-section aerial 360s, or, more regularly, applied to any high-amplitude surfing performed on a standard, a three-fin “shortboard” design. In both cases, describing performance paradigms established decades ago.
This video was something very different. Shot from the now-ubiquitous drone perspective, it depicted an obviously very talented surfer riding a short, narrow and nimble stand-up foilboard, “down-winding” in the narrows of Oregon’s Columbia River Gorge, riding the successive, short-interval waves formed when winds of the proper velocity and direction blow in direct opposition to the river’s current. And not just riding these waves, but surfing them: smooth, carving turns, round-house cutbacks, pumping for speed, connecting sections. Beautiful surfing, that given this particular medium and the foil’s inherent friction-free flow, literally went on for miles. But even more than watching this remarkable new form of wave riding in action, what really jumped out at me was the fact that this guy was all alone out there on the river (save for his drone operator), the only surfer out, so to speak, on what by any normal definition of “progressive” would certainly be described as the cutting edge of performance. Marveling at the display, I couldn’t help picture what was going on in the wider surfing scene that same day, the initial conclusion being that surfing could very well be the least progressive action sport in the world today.
Let’s just take the sharp end, for example. I recently saw some highly-touted footage of the incredible Kai Lenny in the Mentawai Islands, riding a pumping day at super-gnarly Greenbush, but riding it switch-foot…much like goofy-foot Jock Sutherland did when, switching stance, he won the 1967 Duke Kahanamoku Invitational at Sunset Beach. Or the latest, video release from talented young Tosh Tudor, depicting the gamine tube specialist in his best, early-70s, narrow Rory Russell stance riding multitudinous tubes in much the same way as did “The Dog” in 1972’s “Five Summer Stories” — just on much shorter boards and in much longer barrels. [A silverback’s dream sequence: Gerry Lopez in his prime surfing Desert Point.]
Relatively recent advancements by female surfers in the barrel-riding realm have no doubt been impressive, but let’s be frank: this new breed, having finally realized that a women’s place is indeed in the tube, might be charging hard, but, in truth, are only now catching up to the manner in which their male counterparts have been occupying the green room for the past 50 years.
Competitive surfing? Surfing tabloid pundits regularly mock the repetitive aerial antics of top performers like Filipe Toledo and Italo Ferreira, while at the same time cooing breathlessly over Ethan Ewing’s suave, more traditional “board-on-the-water” approach. And make no mistake, the massive closeout top-turn that Dane Reynolds pulled off in the Reef Hawaiian Pro at Haleiwa, way, way back in 2012, would have Joe Turpel choking on his mic today — the likes of which hasn’t been seen since.
Big waves? With the exception of the aforementioned Kai Lenny nobody seems to be doing anything particularly innovative (and even he’s resorted to doing flips and riding wakeboards at Peahi to spice things up.) And taking nothing away from the gutsy, bare-handed big wave riders committed to paddling and pulling into monster barrels on their giant unwieldy boards, the act is, by definition, regressive in the face of the propulsive innovation that was tow-in surfing.
So, let’s talk about that word, “propulsive,” which I believe is a much better term applying to the sport than “progressive.” Propulsion, meaning “…the action of driving or pushing something forward.” As opposed to progression, which generally describes gradual, step-by-step advancements. Taking the current state of the art into consideration, it’s pretty clear that until very recently, the last truly propulsive event in surfing history took place over three decades ago, with the advent of tow-in surfing, which in the course of a single session at Backyard Sunset took the sport 20 steps forward.
And now, foil surfing, the first entirely new way to ride waves in the last, just to be conservative, 1,500 years of recreational surfing history. A fantastic, incredibly efficient new way to ride waves, at that. So, if surfing would really like to consider itself a progressive sport, why isn’t everybody getting out there on foils?
I believe it’s because, at first glance, surfing, in general practice, is actually the furthest thing from a progressive sport. With the exception of the relatively minuscule percentage of surfers who actually get paid to surf, I’d estimate the vast majority of active surfers today are riding waves in pretty much the same way as did their predecessors in the 1985. And a strong case could be made that just about as many are riding their waves like it’s 1975 — or 1965, for that matter, at least those riding longboards. Seriously, go down to your local beach and sit and watch how most of the guys and gals are surfing. Then go home and watch a few ‘70s surf movies (TheSurfNetwork.com plug here), and you’ll see what I mean. Yes, today there are those isolated pockets where “high-performance” surfing is being performed, but it’s hardly the norm. On the other hand, watch any of those great old movies and tell me what’s going down in the average lineup today is all that much different than what was happening back then: surfers dropping in and moving down the line, maybe climbing and dropping a bit, occasionally cutting back into the pocket and banking off the lip, wave after wave, session after session, year after year, with hardly any variation.
This pervasive repetition indicates what I interpret as surfing’s inherent appeal, which, in its essence, is the simple joy of riding a wave without too much fuss — or with any significant thought to progression, other than learning to ride that precious wave for as long possible; to sustain the magic all the way to the beach. It’s the same elemental pleasure that has kept Waikiki’s waves heavily populated and enjoyed for over 100 years. Why San Onofre is still one of the happiest places on earth; why Capitola, Privates, Trees, Shark’s Cove, 38th Ave., Cowell’s and The Indicator are just as essential to the overall scope of the Santa Cruz surfing experience as is the Harbormouth, or The Point at Steamer Lane; why the standing river wave at Bend, Oregon’s Whitewater Park gets packed in the summer.
I find something reassuring in this. With so many other sports, there are absolute standards of success, and accordingly, fulfillment. No matter how sweet a tennis shot might feel, if it goes into the net it’s a fail, and so are you; pop off the crux of your first 5.10 trad climb and get lowered on the belay of shame. But surfing is different. This is made obvious when you consider how the vast majority of surfers actually eschew propulsion, but seem to achieve a consistent level of fulfillment just by riding waves the way they always have.
Which brings me back to the idea of progression. When I started out writing this piece, I based my point on the term’s conventional definition. By the end, however, I found myself digging a little deeper, where I came across a more nuanced, actual hard-cover dictionary entry, defining progression as, “…moving gradually toward a more elevated state.”
An elevated state — that’s the real point. The way I see it, if the majority of today’s surfers, both experienced, intermediate, or just beginning, find fulfillment in the waves, not bound by any preconceived standards, but simply riding whatever, wherever, or however they want (including on foils) then I’m pulling a 180-degree turn: surfing is easily the most progressive sport in the world.