“There are known knowns; there are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns – the ones we don’t know we don’t know.” —Former United States Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld.

My goal of surfing the Channel Islands began/begins with research online. The first hint of a web trail was this scrap of evidence. There’s very little that is easily found online about surfing out there, perhaps because of a guarded secretive protection of the information? Skull and Mariner Bones? Although I don’t think there are endless spots out there, each of the bigger islands certainly hold a few great waves when the conditions are right.

You want a boat. I mean, you need a boat, a personal watercraft, but it is slightly possible to get there by ferry service, camp, and hike or kayak. If the only option is public transportation, here’s how to get there, and how to get a campsite pass. It’s possible to hike to a south swell spot on Santa Cruz near Smuggler’s Cove, and Santa Rosa has a few hiking in options as well. Here are great photos of the summer spot on Santa Cruz, here and here. Use your imagination for surf spots on Santa Rosa.

This is another winter wave on Santa Cruz, Chinese Harbor and the Chinese Harbor setup

Here’s the infamous “Shark Park“.

The goal with this article is not to spoil an untouched area, and anyways the barriers to entry are steep. But, it tickles the imagination and feels good knowing there are cold desolate slabs out there at the right day and time, and so it is a story I believe should be told, and shared.

Please leave any comments to help us piece together the mystery of surfing out there!

Lots of LA surfers do somehow find there way to Oahu, and often flounder. This chasm in the surf experience is paradoxical actually, as Los Angeles surf culture really gave birth to much of the modern day North Shore (read: Buzzy Trent, Greg Noll, Flippy Hoffman, et al), as well as the many California ex-pats that today call the North Shore home. Starbucks and Sunset Beach mansions aside, the point is that LA surfers can and often do find themselves completely, utterly lost and out to sea on these reefs in the wintertime. The waves are BIG! Few moments spent even at the reefs of Palos Verdes would compare, and so we usually play just triple-a ball. Regarding the big leagues, I would paint a picture of gasping for breath between whitewash poundings, and mad dash sprints towards the channel dodging sets, all the while, bronzed, local bruddha-kine guys blaze past them, getting barreled on well-overhead waves.

While the LA surfer might find solace in social media, text messages, Facebook etc, the North Shore local might not really know what day it is. Might not really know what year it is. And might not care. And why care when King Neptune is throwing lightning bolts at you? (note: the smartphone virus is certainly alive, well, and growing on the North Shore nowadays as well)

I suppose the point is that the essence of surfing is some connection with God, and surfing the North Shore brings an honesty and clarity that gets one closer… Perhaps when we were more primitive, the hunt for game and battles against real predators would compare. From my own North Shore experience, I felt this primal fear and rush of adrenaline, and though I’ve never hucked a spear at a saber-tooth, I would liken big Sunset to any Neanderthal versus Mammoth showdown.

Fit, aware of the elements, ready to take down some big waves, all common threads in the North Shore surfer’s storyline. The LA surf experience comparison would be more akin to trapping rabbits. Little victories that sustain but leave a hunger.

I am, unfortunately, good at trapping rabbits, and as my North Shore experience showed me, I get bent out of shape by Mammoths charging at me. We LA Surfers simply do not get anywhere near this type of raw energy in Los Angeles and Southern California, and I fear that we are (and at least myself) made soft by this, distracted and disengaged from that fear of God.

Consider this then a call to action! We LA Surfers need not be relegated to the soft-core league, many of us have hopes and dreams similar to our North Shore brethren, but as we don’t have a similar canvas to paint, we are vulnerable to this apathy. So get out there LA surfers! When it does get big, savor and gorge yourself in the cold punishment. If the waves are flat, pull the e-brake on the 405, jump into the rushing LA River in the rain, roll Crenshaw rocking a red bandanna and bumping bass music… But do something!! Life is Too $hort!!!