Pacific Southern Hemisphere
JUNE-AUGUST
>>> Drop a pebble in a bathtub and watch the resulting disturbance travel from one end to the other. This is essentially what happens when an intense low-pressure system lumbers past Antarctica’s Ross Ice Shelf and makes its way across the bottom of the Pacific heading northeast.
These Southern Hemisphere swell systems are lonely at birth, affecting no significant land mass as they pass through one of the largest storm corridors on the planet. But when the resulting swell takes its final bow along the shores of spots like Yakutat, Alaska, almost seven thousand miles and two weeks later, it leaves countless waves in its path.
Part of the Southern Hemisphere’s mass appeal is the timing. Swells peak during the North American summer months, when the water is warmer, work schedules are more flexible, and the ocean is more inviting. A storm coming from the south means wave events at southern shores and south-facing breaks. In the Pacific, these include iconic wave gardens like Waikiki, Malibu, and the world’s most dangerous amusement park, the Wedge in Newport Beach.
On a big day at these breaks and the thousands of others that come alive on a Pacific Southern Hemi, you’ll notice a few signature characteristics. Since the swells are generated by storms so far away (an average of six thousand miles from Southern California), the waves tend to be straight, orderly, and generously spaced. There might be long lulls between sets, lasting up to twenty minutes. But when a large Southern Hemisphere set does arrive at a spot like Huntington Beach, you can literally see it from miles away: corduroy lines stretched to the horizon, each one bigger than its predecessor. It’s during these sets, when wave after wave grows and stretches endlessly up the beach and beyond, that a swell’s true journey is revealed. These pulses of energy aren’t individual packages delivered to a specific address. They’re just passing through during one incredible road trip.
Bodyboarder Mike Stewart may be the only human to this day who’s done this road trip and followed a single swell from Tahiti to Alaska. During the summer of 1996, he happened to be in French Polynesia when the biggest south swell in twenty years hit Tahiti. He rode massive storm surf there and flew home to Hawaii without thinking much about it. But then he got the call: the rare Ma’alaea on Maui was as good as it gets, which prompted him to hop over and make the most of it. With rumors of the swell hitting just as strong in California, he jumped on a red-eye flight to the mainland that night. There, he encountered “the largest Wedge he’d ever seen” and put on a show for the thousand or more spectators on the beach. Seeing there was plenty left in the tank, he hitched out to the Channel Islands before flying up to Alaska two days later. One week and six thousand miles after his first ride of the trip, now surfing in 50-degree water with glaciers in the background, Stewart couldn’t help but feel a personal connection with the historic swell. “By that time,” he said, “we were old friends.”
Teahupo’o, Tahiti
>>> Located at the end of the Route de Ceinture on the southwest coast of Tahiti’s main island, the spot known as Teahupo’o single-handedly launched a “surrealist period” in wave appreciation—where swells are so big, thick, and exaggerated, they appear to be created by special-effects technicians. It’s here, approximately four days after the storm’s birth, where the brunt of the southern ocean’s fury is first funneled and distributed onto a slight bend in the reef a half mile offshore and just a few feet below the surface. The depth change (more than three hundred feet just fifty yards out) is so extreme that waves tend to fold around the reef more than break over it. This can best be seen from above, as the bottom of the wave actually appears to be “below sea level.” Welcome to Teahupo’o. Elevation: minus fifteen feet.
>>> Human tampering along our shorelines creates its fair share of freak waves. The top of that list is likely the Wedge in Newport Beach, a chiro-practor’s dream spot since bodysurfers first attempted the spine-twisting shorebreak in the ’50s. First constructed in 1918, the West Newport Jetty is what creates the Wedge effect—a ricochet of a Southern Hemisphere swell into oncoming swells that morph into peaky, fast-moving slingshots double and triple the size only a few yards from shore. When the largest swells of the summer hit Orange County, crowds line the beach to watch crazy body-surfers, bodyboarders, and surfers fall from the sky. Without the West Newport Jetty and its family of twelve rock outcroppings, Newport Beach would be one solid line of closed-out surf during the summer months. But the jetties serve as temporary distractions for swell, creating open faces and class-five rip currents beside them. It’s these whirlpools that force Newport lifeguards to rescue up to five thousand people every year.
>>> To witness the Southern Pacific’s swells stretched and elongated into leg-burning marathon courses, look no farther than central Peru’s endless left-handers like Chicama, Punta Prieta, and Puemape. Widely considered to be “the world’s longest wave,” Chicama’s point runs more than 2.5 miles. In fact, most surfers complain it’s actually too long. On a good day at Chicama, you basically ride four waves, two before lunch and two after lunch. The rest of the time you’re either paddling or walking.
