Surfing in a wave pool is like chatting with an AI robot. Both the questions and the answers are variations on the same repeated themes.
The other night I rode my bike down to the surf shop to watch a film. While we were waiting for things to start, I got to chatting with a friend. I suggested that after seeing the wildly inconsistent conditions at Tahiti, I might be open to the idea of Olympic surfing moving to a wave pool.
He gave me a hard stare. It was the kind of stare that says, who are you and are we even friends. And then he said that wave pools have no place in contest surfing.
Surfing belongs in the ocean.
My brain made a kind of screeching noise — if you’ve ever ridden a mountain bike with disc brakes that are out of adjustment, you know exactly what kind of noise I mean — and my thoughts came to a grinding halt.
It turns out that a girl can change her mind.
On Friday we learned that the Surf Ranch has put in a bid to host the surfing event at the LA Olympics in 2028. As pretty much everyone here knows, I have been to Lemoore far more times than anyone should have to go. And I can tell you truthfully, that I have not especially enjoyed my visits.
Lemoore is hot. It smells like cowshit. Did I mention that it’s hot? The people at the Tachi Palace are very nice, and so is their pool. But that’s about the only good thing I can say about my visits to the Surf Ranch. In fact, the best thing about going to Surf Ranch is stopping for ice cream on the way back home.
But what about the surfing?
I think we all know the answer to that one by now. After Tahiti I thought, well, an even playing field would be a good idea for the Olympics. The conditions were wildly inconsistent with many wave-starved heats. Climbing takes place indoors on an artificial wall, to name one example.
Why shouldn’t surfing take the same approach?
Then I remembered just how repetitive contest surfing becomes when it moves from the ocean to a place like the Surf Ranch. There are highlights, sure. But mostly, it’s a monotony of repetition, like when the algorithm keeps playing that same damn song. No one really wants to make a mistake out there, and the scarcity of waves reinforces safety surfing. It all adds up to a whole lot of nothing.
And I do feel I have given this wave pool thing more than a fair chance, what with the many trips to Lemoore and the much standing along the pool with aching feet to watch the surfing.
Also, the heat part. But really, it’s just not that interesting.
It was, I feel, very helpful of my friend to remind me of a thing that I knew, but had somehow forgotten. Surfing is not good in a wave pool. It does, in fact, belong in the ocean. Suck it, Surf Ranch!
Surfing is a conversation between a surfer and the ocean. Standing on our boards, we may have a perfect turn in mind, but most of the time, the ocean has an entirely different idea for us. With each wave, the ocean asks a question. It’s up to us to come up with an answer.
Each of us brings something different to the conversation and with every wave, the ocean invites us and provokes us in unexpected ways. The joy of surfing is reacting to each wild swing of the ocean’s moods. That interaction and the potential for surprise it creates is where the magic happens.
Surfing in a wave pool is like chatting with an AI robot. Nothing unexpected happens. Both the questions and the answers are variations on the same repeated themes.
In the ocean, the best surfers seem to have an uncanny ability to see into the future. They always seem to know where the next wave will be and how the wave will shimmy and shift as they surf down the line. This, too, is an essential part of the contest surfing’s game. It’s not just riding the wave. You have to find one, first.
With the vagaries of the ocean, surf contests can never be fair in the way of most traditional sports. Obviously, we all know this. The Olympics necessarily shares the distorted outcomes of the one-day championship final. The best surfer that day will win, sure. But will they actually be the best surfer in the world? Not necessarily, and maybe not even close.
That makes our ridiculous pastime a weird fit for the Olympics, which celebrates the world’s best athletes every four years. As we saw at both Chiba and Teahupo’o, the waves are rarely going to be epic. That means we may never see the kinds of peak performances in surfing that we see in other sports at the Olympics.
World records fall. Gymnasts do death-defying leaps into the air. Surfers paddle out at Huntington Beach.
It’s absurd, but that’s surfing. It’s never fair, and never as good as we hope it will be.
And I think it’s kind of great that surfing in the Olympics looks exactly like us, going to the beach and hoping to get a couple good ones. Surfing is stupid and frustrating and once in a while, transcendent. Surfing is perfect.
I just needed a friend to remind me.
