category_outlined / Sports

Surfer February 2016

We founded Surfer Magazine in 1960 with a mission: to bring our readers a slice of the entire surfing world with each issue. And for over four decades, we've made good on that promise. Every issue of Surfer is packed with spectacular award-winning photos, provocative interviews with the leading pros, and journeys to the coolest undiscovered surf spots. With your order you'll get the Annual Oversized Issue, the Buyer's Guide, and the Hot 100, featuring the world's best new surfers.

United States
American Media Operations, Inc
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8 Issues


access_time1 min.
pipeline, hawaii photo by zak noyle

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.…

access_time3 min.
seeking cosmic potatoes

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 the…

access_time2 min.
cj hobgood

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 he competed…

access_time4 min.
surfing’s final frontier

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…

access_time5 min.
at first sight

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 the…

access_time18 min.
journey to the center

We called it “The Doctor’s House” only because someone said that a doctor had lived there. Yet the structure had been shuttered for many years, decades even, and there was no way of saying whom it belonged to now. I’d assumed that this absent doctor had been French because the architecture of the house was French colonial, with its hipped roof of corrugated iron, the stately veranda framed by columns, and stairs that led to a set of big red doors. The exterior walls were a faded canary yellow. Swatches of its plaster were falling off, and a bromeliad was growing from one of these patches of missing pigment, sugesting a process already in advanced stages among area homes—namely that the jungle was slowly taking them back. The second reason I…