The image is quite familiar. A lifeguard in red and yellow is scanning the horizon. Everything looks calm from a distance, right?

But the job, especially in low-resource regions, is closer to a Wall Street risk management activity than you'd think.

We might be exaggerating a bit here, but you get the message. A lifeguard has people's lives under his watch.

So, what exactly are the responsibilities of a lifeguard? What makes a surf rescuer a good professional? And what are their red flags and don'ts?

The Royal National Lifeboat Institution (RNLI) is one of the most prestigious lifesaving institutions on the planet.

It was founded in 1824 in the United Kingdom.

RNLI's lifeguard manual makes one thing clear from the start: lifeguarding is not about reacting to emergencies but about preventing them from happening in the first place.

We took a thorough read of the document and gathered the dos and don'ts for professional beach lifeguards that could very well apply to water safety professionals worldwide.

The following lines help beach users and aspiring and current lifeguards to know a bit more about an ocean rescuer's outstanding duties and respectable authority.

The problem beneath the surface

Too many people drown every year across the planet.

Drowning is defined as a process in which breathing is impaired due to being underwater. It can happen quickly, often without noise or dramatic signs. What makes it more dangerous is how predictable it is.

There is a chain that leads to drowning.

It begins with people not understanding the risks around them. It continues when they are free to access those risks without restriction. It deepens when no one is watching, and it ends when the person can no longer cope in the water.

A lifeguard's job is to break that chain early.

Sometimes that means stopping a child from wandering into deep water. Sometimes it means warning a group of visitors about a rip current they cannot see. Often, it means acting before anyone realizes there is danger.

Certain people face a greater risk.

Children, non-swimmers, visitors unfamiliar with the beach, fishermen, older individuals, and those under the influence of alcohol are all more likely to get into trouble.

But the lesson that shapes every patrol is simpler than any list - anyone can drown.

The shape of the role

A lifeguard is responsible for a defined area of beach and water, and for every person who enters it. You've probably noticed that at your local beaches.

That responsibility moves through three stages.

First comes prevention, then response to developing situations, and finally rescue and emergency care when things go wrong.

Most of the work sits in that first stage.

It involves setting safe swimming areas, speaking to beach users, adjusting to changing conditions, and keeping a constant watch.

Rescue is only the visible edge of a much larger task. In a perfect scenario, it never takes place.

The job demands a particular kind of person, someone observant enough to notice a subtle change in a swimmer's movement.

Calm enough to manage conflict without escalation.

They should be fit enough to run, swim, and tow another person through moving water and reliable enough that others trust them without question.

Even appearance matters.

The red and yellow uniform has a reason to look like that. It is a striking signal, designed to be seen from a distance, reassuring to those who need help and unmistakable to those who might ignore advice.

You barely miss a lifeguard at a crowded beach. Those colors are just too flashy not to stand out.

Working inside a moving environment

You might have never thought about it, but the beach is not a fixed place.

It shifts with the weather, the tide, and the shape of the seabed. A lifeguard learns to read these changes as they happen.

For instance, wind direction alone can alter the level of danger.

When it blows offshore, it can carry inflatable objects and the people holding onto them away from land. When it blows onshore, it can turn the water into uneven, choppy surf that overwhelms weaker swimmers.

Waves are also in a league of their own.

Some break gently and are relatively safe. Others collapse with force, capable of knocking a person down or causing injury. Some do not break at all, surging forward and dragging people into deeper water.

And then, rip currents are the most deceptive hazard. They form channels that pull water back out to sea.

To an untrained eye, they may look like calm water, but to a lifeguard, they stand out through subtle signs such as darker patches, irregular wave patterns, or foam moving steadily offshore.

The shape of the beach matters just as much.

A steep slope can turn shallow water into deep water within a step. A hole in the sand can drop a child suddenly below the surface. Rocks, river mouths, and harbors each introduce their own risks, from strong currents to hidden obstacles.

Finally, tides complete the picture.

A safe path can disappear within minutes as water rises. Hazards that were visible can vanish beneath the surface. A lifeguard keeps track of all of it, often without pause.

Have you ever looked at a beach from this perspective?

Watching without missing anything

Observation is the quiet core of the job.

A lifeguard may be responsible for hundreds of people at once, but it is impossible to watch everyone individually, so they scan.

The process is constant and deliberate.

Eyes move across the water, then back again, checking positions, counting heads, and noting behavior. Lifeguards rotate positions regularly to avoid fatigue and maintain focus.

What they are looking for is not always obvious.

A weak swimmer might call for help or struggle to move forward. A non-swimmer might make frantic movements but remain silent, focused only on keeping their head above water. An injured person might stay still, holding part of their body. An unconscious person might float face down or disappear entirely.

It's like they're in a "Where's Waldo?" comic book.

And the window to act can be very short. In some cases, a person may submerge in less than 20 seconds.

In other words, a life lost in under a minute.

Creating order on an open beach

That's why, to manage risk, lifeguards create structure where none exists. They define patrol zones and mark the safest areas using beach warning flags.

The red and yellow flags signal where it is safest to swim. A red flag warns that conditions are too dangerous to enter the water at all.

These zones are not permanent. They shift with the conditions.

A rip current that forms in the afternoon may require the entire swimming area to move. The lifeguard must always be confident that a rescue can be carried out within the zone they have defined.

Timing is part of this structure as well.

Patrols are arranged when people are most likely to use the beach. In hotter regions, that often means early mornings and late afternoons.

Interesting, right?

Communication that carries across distance

This topic is really important.

On a beach, distance and noise make communication difficult, so lifeguards rely on a mix of voice, signals, and simple tools.

A whistle becomes a language of its own.

A single blast draws attention. Two blasts call another lifeguard. Three will signal that an emergency is underway. Hand signals reinforce messages when voices cannot carry.

But the most important communication happens face to face.

Lifeguards explain risks, give advice, and sometimes persuade people to change their plans. It's a communication that requires calmness, clarity, and respect, even when the message is unwelcome.

They must do it, and beach users must be open and listen to them.

Lifeguards are there to help and protect, not to be an authoritarian figure.

The moment a rescue begins

However, when prevention fails, the situation shifts quickly. RNLI's guidelines teach a structured approach: stop, think, act, and review.

And believe it or not, that first pause (stop) matters. It allows the lifeguard to assess what is happening, where the casualty is, and what dangers are present.

The truth is, every rescue involves risk.

Therefore, the lifeguard must weigh that risk against the chance of success. The rule is straightforward: their own safety comes first, followed by their team, then the casualty.

Whenever possible, the rescue stays on land.

A shout or a clear signal may be enough to guide someone back to safety. And then reaching with an object or throwing a flotation aid reduces risk further.

Entering the water is a last resort, used only when necessary.

In low-resource settings or underdeveloped regions, creativity becomes part of the job. For instance, a simple floating container can replace specialized equipment, providing enough buoyancy to support a person in distress.

If a swim rescue is required, the situation becomes more dangerous. A panicking casualty may grab the rescuer. Waves and currents add difficulty.

Consequently, the lifeguard must approach carefully, often from behind, and use techniques that allow them to control the situation without being overwhelmed.

Bringing someone back

Reaching the casualty is only half the task; getting them safely to shore is just as critical.

The lifeguard must keep the person's airway clear at all times, especially when waves are breaking. Different towing methods are used depending on whether the casualty is conscious, injured, or unconscious.

Some techniques prioritize control, others efficiency, but all aim to move the person while minimizing risk.

Once near shore, the effort often becomes a team activity.

Other lifeguards, or even members of the public, may assist in lifting and moving the casualty. The method depends on the situation, the condition of the casualty, and the nature of the beach.

Luckily, there could be a doctor, nurse, or paramedic nearby who could assist the victim.

If the person can walk, they are supported. If not, they may be dragged or carried, always with care to protect the head and spine and to avoid further injury.

After the water

The rescue does not end on the sand, as the casualty may need immediate first aid.

They must be moved to a safe position, away from rising tides and waves. If they are unconscious, maintaining an open airway becomes urgent.

Afterward, the incident is recorded in detail.

Information about what happened, where it occurred, and how it was handled helps improve future responses and identify patterns of risk.

Serious incidents are followed by a debrief. Lifeguards talk through what happened and how they responded.

These conversations are about improving performance, but they also help manage the emotional impact of the job, which can linger long after the beach has emptied.

Teaching as part of the job

In many parts of the world, the lifeguard is also a teacher.

They explain what the flags mean. They point out hazards. They speak to children, visitors, and locals alike.

Sometimes it happens in schools or community spaces. Often, it happens in passing, a quick conversation that changes someone's decision before it becomes dangerous.

In places where water safety knowledge is limited, this role is essential. It extends the reach of the lifeguard beyond the patrol zone.

All of the actions and behaviors identified above are part of most lifeguard training and certification across the world.

What must never happen

Time for the don'ts of the job. And this is really important, as there are boundaries that define the profession as clearly as any skill.

A lifeguard cannot be under the influence of alcohol or drugs while on duty. Judgment and reaction time must remain sharp at all times.

Also, they cannot abandon their patrol or lose concentration, even briefly.

They cannot ignore changing conditions or take unnecessary risks that could turn one emergency into two.

They are expected to remain calm, even in conflict, and to treat the public with respect while maintaining authority.

The job depends on trust, and that trust is built through consistent behavior.

A lifeguard's daily duties are highly demanding, and that's what makes them a valuable contribution to society and people whose job must be respected and cherished.

Words by Luís MP | Founder of SurferToday.com

Imagine having a robot shooting your surf in the ocean, instead of having to ask your partner to be there for hours filming the waves you weren't even able to ride and finish off.

Surf REC is an automated surf recording station that tracks and follows each and every wave you take off on at your local surf break.

The robotic cameras installed just by the beach capture all your ridden waves and send them to your account, so you can watch them on your smartphone, tablet, or computer.

From there, you may choose to get your rides analyzed and scrutinized by professional surf coaches from all over the world, so that they can share tips and suggestions on how to improve your surf.

Surf REC is a small structure equipped with several cameras and an electronic kiosk facing the lineup.

"We developed a robotic camera that automatically ensures the filming operation guided by a bracelet device that the surfer carries on his arm into the water," explains Paulo Alvito, co-founder and technology developer at Surf REC.

The robot that tracks and films your surf

The idea for Surf REC dates back to 2013, when its founder, Afonso Maya, considered creating a device that could easily track recreational surfers' waves so they could see themselves and find ways to improve their technique.

The cam sharing solution for surfers is simple to use.

Users download an app, create an account, and then log in at the kiosk on the beach, before collecting the bracelet and going surfing for as long as they wish.

As soon as the bracelet is returned, the surfer can immediately download the videos.

The pay-per-use auto-tracking solution can capture surfers up to 2,000 feet (600 meters) away from the cameras.

Sessions can be shot in solo mode (one user, one camera) or dual mode (two users, one camera).

The shooting cost is calculated per minute of usage, that is, €0.25 per minute (€15 per hour) for the solo mode only, for now.

The dual mode will be available soon and allows a friend or a stranger to get a 20 percent discount on the rate for each user.

Surf REC aims to offer more options in the future, including 4K resolution and two image framing options.

The surf clips are automatically deleted after 90 days to ensure our platform runs efficiently and securely.

All sessions are open for booking during daylight hours.

However, the team at Surf REC set aside some camera downtime for occasional maintenance, ensuring the structure is in top-notch shape for your next surf recording session.

A pay-per-use service for recreational surfers

Ultimately, the service aims to improve 99 percent of worldwide surfers, i.e., the non-professional surfing community.

"If you think you're not good enough to see yourself filmed, then how are you going to get better?" explains Surf REC co-founder and pro surfer, José Ferreira.

"So, the more of a beginner you are, the sooner you need to see yourself on film to get better."

"In some people's minds, you just want to film to get your best waves, but that's not really the case."

"If you want to do well on that wave, you definitely need to analyze bad days or just normal days."

As a pro surfer, I knew how analyzing bad days helped me to evolve a lot in the better days. Obviously, free surfers don't need or want to be pros, but I'm sure that people who surf want to progress because that will allow them to have more fun."

The first Surf REC shooting station was installed at the world-class point break of Ribeira d'Ilhas in Ericeira, Portugal, and another one followed in Carcavelos.

However, the team behind the Portuguese startup plans to soon expand its network to some of the country's busiest surf spots: Matosinhos, Porto, Peniche, Santa Cruz, Sintra, Costa da Caparica, Aljezur, and Sagres.

The time when beach surf cams were only used by surfers to check the conditions reached a new stage. Now, you can use them to improve your skills.

Words by Luís MP | Founder of SurferToday.com

A short video has stirred a long-running argument in 21st-century surfing. A e-foiler vs. surfer dispute over right of way and priority on a wave generated multiple opposing perspectives and lines of thought.

In the incident, an electric hydrofoil rider glides along the shoulder of a wave, well before it breaks. He has been riding for about 30 seconds.

As he nears the lineup, a shortboard surfer takes off closer to the peak, where the wave begins to curl. The two approach each other on the same wall of water.

They hesitate, neither fully yielding. Both end up in the whitewater.

The e-foiler later claimed he had priority because he had been on the wave for more than 30 seconds. That idea, simple on its face, has not been received kindly.

What the informal rules actually say

Surfing has few (un)written yet informal rules, but one principle is nearly universal. The surfer closest to the peak, the part of the wave that is breaking first, has priority.

The guideline is how most surfers avoid collisions when multiple people paddle for the same wave.

That same rule does not depend on who stood up first or who has been riding longer. It is about position.

A wave can be entered at different points along its face, especially at beach breaks and point breaks.

So the guideline, which makes all sense, says that someone deeper, closer to where the wave is steepest, has the right of way.

In the video that spread online, the shortboarder is positioned in that critical zone. The e-foiler is riding the shoulder, the softer, less steep part of the wave.

So, by standard etiquette, the shortboarder holds priority.

 

 

 

 

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The motor changes the equation

Electric hydrofoils are not just another modern surfboard. They use a battery-powered motor and a submerged wing that lifts the board above the water.

The high-tech setup allows riders to catch waves earlier, often before they break, and to stay on them much longer than a paddling surfer can.

That advantage is at the heart of the conflict.

An e-foil rider can connect sections, glide through flat spots, and even link multiple waves. In crowded conditions, that means one person can "occupy" a wave for far longer than the rhythm of a normal lineup allows.

In coverage of the incident, Kelly Slater criticized the presence of powered craft in traditional surf zones, pointing to both fairness and safety.

His reaction echoed what many surfers have been saying for years as new equipment enters the water.

Safety is not an abstract concern

An electric foil surfboard is fast, quiet, and carries hard edges below the surface. The mast and wings are rigid. In a collision, they do not behave like foam and fiberglass - they cut like a razor through butter.

It's important to focus on how close the two riders came to contact. That proximity is what worries people who surf, especially those without the motor power to quickly turn or move away.

A standard surfboard can cause injury, but the underwater structure of a foil adds another layer of risk. It is harder to see and harder to predict.

In most moving sports, the participant with greater speed and power is expected to take on more responsibility. On ski slopes, the uphill skier must avoid those below.

On the road, larger vehicles are expected to exercise more caution. The same logic is starting to take hold in the ocean. Or at least, it should.

The problem with "first on the wave"

The e-foiler's argument rests on timing. He was on the wave first, so he believes he owns it. That idea does not fit how surfing works.

If time alone decided priority, then any craft with an advantage in catching waves would dominate.

Stand-up paddleboarders can enter waves earlier because they stand and use a paddle. Tow surfers can be pulled into waves long before they break. Electric foils extend that advantage even further.

Surfing has never rewarded that kind of control.

The culture depends on sharing waves or, at least, identical opportunities to get them, not claiming them indefinitely, in the same way a ride ends when a surfer kicks out or falls, not when the ocean runs out of energy.

A lineup under pressure

The reaction online has been strong.

Most comments side with the shortboarder, not because of loyalty to tradition alone, but because the situation feels unbalanced.

A powered craft entering a crowded lineup changes the expectations for everyone else in the water.

There is also a sense that the burden should not be equal.

The e-foiler can choose where to ride. He can stay outside, away from the peak, or move to a less crowded break. The shortboarder, sitting in the lineup, always has fewer options in the moment.

That imbalance is what fuels the frustration, anger, and disbelief. People not only argue about who was technically right on that wave but also about what kind of ocean surfers want to share their waves with.

Where this leaves the rules

There is no single governing body or law for everyday surfing, so change tends to come slowly. Still, patterns are emerging.

Many surfers now treat electric foils as closer to personal watercraft than to traditional surfboards. That view carries an expectation and will likely translate to national or state legislation.

Powered riders should stay clear of dense lineups and yield to those using waves without assistance, as it already happens with motor-powered vessels.

Laws of the sea and regional legislation across several countries determine the distance PWC vehicles need to keep from non-powered watercraft users.

There are even guidelines for addressing right-of-way between kiteboarders and windsurfers.

Some beaches and regions have already begun to separate uses, with designated areas for foils and other high-speed craft, after reports of serious injuries caused by hydrofoil surfers.

That approach does not settle the debate, but it reduces the chance of the kind of encounter seen in the video.

Whether we like it or not, the technology will not disappear from the world's lineups.

Electric foils are becoming more common, more affordable, and easier to ride. As they spread, so will these encounters.

The etiquette rules of surfing were shaped in a time when everyone in the water relied on the same energy source.

That is no longer the case.

But in the gap between old habits and new ways of riding the ocean, safety and fairness must come first, and the guidelines must always protect the one who's least protected.

Wrapping it up: a common-sense conclusion

Here's an overall view of what's at stake.

1. The core surfing rule (this settles most of it)

Across surfing (shortboards, longboards, SUPs, even foils), the fundamental rule is: priority goes to the surfer closest to the peak (breaking part of the wave).

Not:

• Who stood up first;
• Who has been riding longest;
• Who caught it farther outside;

This is consistent across etiquette and competition logic.

Supporting point: foil etiquette explicitly states that "the surfer closest to the peak still has priority."

So in this scenario, the shortboarder sitting in the breaking zone has priority, while the e-foiler riding the shoulder had no priority once approaching the peak zone.

Conclusion: the e-foiler must yield.

2. Why the "I've been riding for 30 seconds" argument fails

The e-foiler's claim sounds intuitive but breaks surfing logic.

Why it doesn't work:

• Surfing is not a possession game (you don't "own" a wave indefinitely);
• Priority is spatial, not temporal;
• A wave has multiple takeoff zones (especially at point breaks or peaks);

If "first on wave equals forever priority":

• SUP riders would dominate every lineup;
• Tow surfers would own entire sets;
• E-foilers would control waves minutes in advance;

That would fundamentally break surfing.

3. The motor changes everything (this is the real issue)

Here's the uncomfortable truth: an electric hydrofoil is not just another surf craft.

Key differences:

• Can catch waves far outside (before they even break);
• Can stay on a wave indefinitely;
• Moves faster and unpredictably;
• Has submerged wings (sharp, dangerous);

Even within foil culture, riders are expected to avoid crowded lineups and give space.

And many communities already treat them differently. Some places classify e-foils as personal watercraft (PWC), i.e., like jet skis.

4. The safety reality (this outweighs etiquette)

Here's where the debate stops being philosophical.

An e-foil has:

• A motor;
• A propeller;
• A rigid mast plus wing acting like a blade underwater;

As one report put it, they're essentially "a guillotine gliding beneath the surface."

So, in any close-call scenario, the higher-risk craft carries more responsibility.

It's actually a standard across:

• Sailing (bigger vessel yields);
• Ski slopes (uphill skier responsible);
• Driving (more dangerous vehicle = higher duty of care);

5. So who is at fault in this exact scenario?

Based on facts, the shortboarder, positioned at the peak, and he's in the natural takeoff zone; the e-foiler entered from outside, rode into an active lineup, approached a surfer with priority, and has superior speed, maneuvering, and danger.

Conclusion: the e-foiler is at fault.

Even if ee caught the wave earlier and was already riding, none of that overrides peak priority and safety duty.

6. The "unfair advantage" problem (and why people are angry)

If e-foilers get "first on wave" priority, they always win.

Because they can:

• Catch waves earlier;
• Stay on waves longer;
• Reconnect waves endlessly;

That creates wave monopolization, lineup disruption, and a massive safety asymmetry.

7. Common-sense solution (what actually works)

Not theory - what realistically prevents chaos:

Rule 1: Peak priority stays absolute

• Closest to the breaking part = priority;
• Applies to all craft, no exceptions;

Rule 2: Motorized craft = yield always in mixed lineups

Treat e-foils like jet skis (PWC).

Meaning:

• Must stay clear of surf zones;
• Must yield to all non-motorized riders;

Rule 3: Zoning (this is the real fix)

The most effective solution worldwide is to separate areas:

• Surf zone: traditional surfers only;
• Foil zone; outside, down the line, separate peak;

It already exists in some places.

Rule 4: Duty of care scales with danger

Hierarchy of responsibility:

• Electric foilboard (highest responsibility);
• Foil boards;
• SUP;
• Longboard;
• Shortboard (lowest);

More speed and danger equals more obligation to avoid others.

Rule 5: No "lineup crossing" under power

E-foilers should:

• Never ride through a populated lineup
• Kick out early or stay wide

8. What regulations should be introduced?

If surf breaks want to avoid serious injuries, a minimum framework requires:

• Classify e-foils as motorized craft (PWC-like);
• Ban them from crowded surf lineups;
• Helmet and distance rules (example: 30-50 meters away from surfers);
• Create designated foil zones;

9. Final answer (simple and fair)

Who has priority? The shortboard surfer at the peak.

Who is responsible? The e-foiler.

What's fair? E-foilers can exist but not dominate shared lineups. They must yield due to motor advantage and safety risk.

Best long-term solution? Shared ocean and separated zones.

Words by Luís MP | Founder of SurferToday.com

Have you ever wondered why a surfboard fin looks like that? It is a single or a set of fixed blades or keels located under a board, near the tail, often no bigger than a hand.

Yet that small surface is where much of the surfboard's behavior takes place. Speed, hold, looseness, and the feeling of control all trace back to how water moves around fins.

The physics of surfboard fins falls under hydrodynamics, the study of how fluids behave in motion.

So, according to science, they feature a shape designed to turn flowing water into several forces. Let's take a look at what's at stake when fins and water interact.

Lift and the feeling of control

One of the key variables in hydrodynamic terms involving surfboard fins is lift.

When a surfer leans into a turn, the board tilts and the fins meet the water at an angle. The angle is enough to create a pressure difference between the two sides of the fin.

Water speeds up on one side and slows on the other. The result is a sideways force known as lift.

The concept comes from basic fluid mechanics, and it is often explained through Bernoulli's Principle and conservation of momentum.

In practice, lift is what keeps a board from sliding out during a turn. It gives the surfer something to push against.

The stronger the lift, the more the board will "hold" in the face of the wave. That hold is what allows tight arcs, committed turns, and cutbacks. 

Too little lift, and the board skids. Too much, and it can feel locked in place.

Drag and the cost of control

Every force in the water comes with a cost. Therefore, the same fin that creates lift also creates drag, a resistance that slows the board down.

Drag comes in two main forms. One is caused by friction as water moves along the surface of the fin. The other comes from the disruption of flow behind the fin, where turbulence forms a wake.

Both are well described in classical fluid mechanics and have been measured in controlled experiments and simulations of surfboard fins.

In surfboard research using computational fluid dynamics, typical fin setups show that as the angle of attack increases, lift rises but drag rises faster.

It's the reason why a board feels slower when pushed hard through a turn. In plain words, the surfer is trading speed for control.

The balance between lift and drag is often expressed as a ratio.

Surfboard fin designers aim to maximize lift while keeping drag as low as possible, but the ocean does not allow perfect efficiency. A fin that feels fast in a straight line may lack grip in a steep section of a wave.

Brands like FCS and Futures Fins provide several fin designs and models so that you can fine-tune and adjust each set to your board type and ocean conditions and maximize performance.

Reynolds number and why small changes matter

Water does not always behave the same way. Its behavior depends on speed, size, and viscosity, which are combined into a dimensionless value known as the Reynolds number.

Surfboard fins operate in a moderate Reynolds range, typically on the order of 10⁵ to 10⁶. In this range, flow can shift between smooth and turbulent with small changes in speed or shape.

So, this is one reason why subtle differences in fin design can produce noticeable changes in performance.

Laboratory and simulation studies show that even slight adjustments in thickness or curvature can alter the boundary layer, the thin region of water that sticks to the fin surface.

If that layer separates too early, drag increases and lift drops. Surfers usually experience it as a loss of drive or a sudden slip.

Vortices and the loss of efficiency

At the tip of every fin, water curls around from the high-pressure side to the low-pressure side, creating a swirling motion called a vortex.

Vortices trail behind the fin and carry energy away from it.

The effect is well known in aerodynamics and applies equally in water. It reduces the effective lift of the fin and adds to drag.

In studies of hydrofoils, tip vortices are one of the main sources of inefficiency.

A surfer will notice this in subtle ways. A fin that sheds strong vortices may feel less powerful in longer turns.

That's why manufacturers often increase the height of a fin or adjust its sweep, known as rake, to reduce these losses.

The goal is not to eliminate vortices, which is impossible, but to manage how they form. Interesting, right?

The center of pressure and the board's balance

Now, the forces acting on a fin do not act everywhere at once.

They combine at a point called the center of pressure. Its position shifts depending on speed and angle.

The shifting point influences how a board feels underfoot.

Here's how. If the center of pressure sits farther back, the board tends to feel stable and controlled; if it moves forward, the board can feel more responsive and easier to pivot.

Experiments and simulations of multi-fin setups show that changing the position of fins by just a few centimeters can alter the distribution of forces across the board.

Surfers would generally point out that a surfboard can feel "drivey" or "loose," but those sensations are rooted in how forces are distributed along the equipment.

Geometry and design choices

The shape of a fin determines how all these forces play out. Consequently, area, height, base length, and curvature each play a role.

A larger fin produces more lift but also more drag.

A taller fin, with a higher aspect ratio, tends to be more efficient and better at holding speed. A shorter, wider fin sacrifices efficiency for quicker, more pivot-driven turns.

Rake changes how the fin releases water. A heavily raked fin encourages long, drawn-out turns. A more upright fin allows sharper, quicker direction changes.

All these effects have been confirmed in both computational fluid dynamics (CFD) studies and field testing, including experiments with quad and thruster setups that show measurable differences in lift and drag as fin positions shift.

Foil shape also matters.

Symmetrical foils generate lift only when angled, while asymmetrical foils can produce lift even when moving straight. Many modern side fins use asymmetrical designs to improve responsiveness.

Real-world measurements and what they reveal

For a long time, most knowledge about surfboard fins came from theory and simulation. Recently, direct measurements have started to fill that gap.

In one experimental study, researchers embedded pressure sensors into a surfboard fin and recorded data during actual rides.

The results showed that lift forces fluctuate rapidly during turns and are closely tied to how the surfer shifts weight and angle. Peak forces occur during transitions between edges, not just in steady turns.

Other studies combining CFD and field testing have explored biomimetic designs, such as fins inspired by humpback whale flippers.

Results showed that these designs can reduce drag and improve efficiency under certain conditions, though the gains are often modest and depend on wave type and riding style.

Next time you're up and riding, try to visualize all these forces at work while you carve on a nice, open wave face. Feel your fins doing their job.

Words by Luís MP | Founder of SurferToday.com

Surfing has always carried a laid-back image. Sun, saltwater, and long afternoons often blend into social time afterward.

In many places, that includes alcohol.

The connection is old, visible, and sometimes romanticized by cool, chilled commercials of light Mexican beer and sunset sessions in idyllic conditions.

But the effects of alcohol on the body, and on surfing performance, are far less relaxed.

"The surf world's relationship to alcohol isn't much different from that of other sporting or recreational cultures," surf historian Matt Warshaw wrote on his "alcohol and surfing" entry on "The Encyclopedia of Surfing."

So, for most surfers, cracking a single cold beer really is the perfect ritual to end a session.

"I'm a two-beer guy," Kelly Slater once revealed.

And while this picture might apply to the majority of surfers, for some, it's something else entirely.

A long history of beer, surfboards, and beach culture

Alcohol has been part of surf culture for decades, both socially and commercially.

Warshaw points out how deeply the two have been linked through events and sponsorships. Beer and liquor brands have backed competitions and athletes for years, tying wave riding to nightlife and celebration.

Foster's, Budweiser, Smirnoff, Corona, Jose Cuervo Tequila, Bundaberg Rum, Kahlua, Coors, Coopers, Michelob, Primo Beer, and Kona Big Wave are only a few examples of beer and liquor brands that financially supported the professional surfing circuit in the ASP and WSL years.

The stories involving surfers and alcohol can be lighthearted. Warshaw includes a moment from Kevin Naughton, who wrote:

"We thought that our last pints were being pulled at 11:30... At three in the morning, I just managed to squeeze my way through the chattering, musical crowd, and nonchalantly asked the barman, 'When does the pub close?' He answered with a deadpan voice, 'In October.'"

The humorous moment is just that. Because within surf culture, like society, athletes often struggle to separate casual drinking from harmful habits.

What alcohol does to the body

Now, let's just stick to pure facts.

Alcohol affects nearly every system in the body. Even moderate amounts can impair coordination, reaction time, and judgment.

We'd probably agree that these are key skills for surfing.

You might say that a single beer does more good than harm if you're socializing and having a good time with friends.

It's an understandable argument, even though it is a subject of intense debate.

However, if you're planning to paddle out immediately after, here's what's at stake based on consistent scientific findings:

• Blood alcohol concentration (BAC) as low as 0.03 percent can reduce reaction time and visual tracking;
• At 0.05 percent, coordination and decision-making are measurably impaired;
• At 0.08 percent, which is the legal driving limit in many countries, balance, muscle control, and spatial awareness are significantly reduced;

Surfing depends on fast reflexes. A surfer reads waves, adjusts stance, and reacts in fractions of a second. Alcohol slows these processes.

Obviously, a beer, here and there, especially after a session, could be seen as marginally irrelevant.

But here are the stronger effects of long-term excessive drinking:

• Reduced muscle recovery and strength;
• Dehydration, which affects endurance;
• Liver damage, which impacts energy metabolism;
• Brain changes that affect memory and motor skills;

All these impacts and consequences build over time and do not stay on land when a surfer enters the water.

The immediate risks of surfing drunk

We all know how unpredictable the ocean can be. Now, adding alcohol increases risk sharply.

A surfer under the influence may misjudge wave size and power, react too slowly to avoid collisions, lose balance more easily, and underestimate currents or rip tides.

Interestingly, cold water makes things worse.

Why? Alcohol causes blood vessels to expand, which increases heat loss. A surfer will feel warm at first but will then lose body heat faster, raising the risk of hypothermia.

Drowning risk also rises.

Studies on water safety show that alcohol is involved in a significant percentage of drowning incidents worldwide.

And it's quite easy to understand why: impaired judgment leads to poor decisions, and slower reactions make recovery harder.

The impacts described above apply to surfers of all levels, including experienced riders. No one is immune, and alcohol surely reduces the margin for error.

Performance levels over time

In the competitive circus, we often hear that surfing rewards consistency and that balance, timing, and endurance improve with practice and physical health.

The thing is, regular heavy drinking works against all of these.

Athletic research shows that chronic alcohol use can lower aerobic capacity, reduce coordination and fine motor control, disrupt sleep (which affects recovery), and increase body fat and reduce lean muscle.

One anonymous surfer quoted in Warshaw's magnum opus shares a very personal perspective on heavy drinking.

"So, Matt Hoy is a hot surfer who drinks heaps of beer? Big deal! So was I, and now I am a fat, bloated, red-faced has-been with nothing to look forward to in life."

It's the perfect statement that reflects a real-life pattern. Over time, heavy drinking can erode the physical edge needed to surf at the highest, or even average, level.

Aging, booze, and the surfing body

As surfers get older, their bodies change naturally. Muscle mass declines, reaction time slows, and recovery takes longer.

Alcohol only accelerates many of these natural aging effects - just like smoking. On top of that, older adults process alcohol more slowly.

The general consequences are clear: stronger impairment from smaller amounts of booze, greater strain on the liver and heart, and increased risk of falls and injuries.

For surfers, it will mean slower pop-ups, reduced balance on the surfboard, and a higher risk of injury during wipeouts.

It's hard not to get back to Matt Warshaw when he notes that surfers are often "health conscious, mildly optimistic, and forward-looking."

These are all traits that can help limit harmful habits, especially those involving ethanol-based drinks.

But when heavy drinking continues into later years, the gap between intention and reality will grow.

What the World Health Organization says

Alcohol's health risks are well established, and global health experts now agree there is no completely safe level of consumption.

The World Health Organization (WHO) states that alcohol itself is a harmful substance. It is toxic, addictive, and classified as a Group 1 carcinogen, meaning it is proven to cause cancer.

It includes common cancers such as breast and bowel cancer, and the risk applies to all alcoholic drinks, regardless of type or quality.

Even low or moderate drinking carries risk.

In Europe, about half of alcohol-related cancers are linked to what many consider a moderate intake. Scientists also stress that harm begins with the first drink.

"We cannot talk about a so-called safe level of alcohol use… the risk to the drinker's health starts from the first drop," explained Dr. Carina Ferreira-Borges, acting Unit Lead for Noncommunicable Disease Management and Regional Advisor for Alcohol and Illicit Drugs in the WHO Regional Office for Europe.

Claims of health benefits from light drinking remain uncertain, with Dr. Jürgen Rehm, member of the WHO Regional Director for Europe's Advisory Council for Noncommunicable Diseases, noting they often depend on study methods and may overlook key factors.

Alcohol continues to be a major public health issue, especially in Europe, where consumption levels are high.

Experts warn that focusing on "safe" levels can distract from the bigger picture of harm and the need for better public awareness about the link between alcohol and cancer.

A culture that reflects a larger reality

Surfing does not exist in isolation. Its relationship with alcohol mirrors the wider world. Social drinking is common and often harmless. Problem drinking is less visible but more damaging.

Warshaw writes that surf culture "reflects the culture at large in the way it chooses not to deal with the ambivalence between approved, or glorified, drinking and problem drinking."

That tension is still present today.

For many surfers, a cold beer after a session is part of the ritual. The key difference lies in frequency, quantity, and awareness of risk.

In the water, the stakes are immediate. Over time, the effects become harder to ignore.

Time to make your choices.

Words by Luís MP | Founder of SurferToday.com

When ocean waves roll toward shore, they rarely hit the beach head-on. More often, they arrive at an angle. At some point, they can transform into trapped waves.

That simple detail sets off a chain reaction beneath the surface, bending wave paths and redistributing energy in ways that are not always obvious from the sand.

One of the most intriguing results of this process is something called a "trapped wave."

We kept the concept between quotation marks, but only for the first time, because there's no other way to identify them.

They are really trapped.

Willard Bascom described this effect in his book "Waves and Beaches" as something that happens when "waves strike the beach at an angle," and the underwater slope drops off steeply into deeper water.

In those conditions, part of the wave energy does not just bounce back out to sea. It gets caught in a repeating pattern along the shoreline.

And, by the way, they're not square waves, even though it all sounds and looks a bit like it. So, let's learn more.

How waves get trapped

Imagine a single wave approaching the beach at an angle. The first part of the wave reaches shallow water and breaks.

At that moment, it reflects and starts heading back out. But the rest of the same wave is still arriving behind it.

Bascom explains it clearly.

"The first part of the wave front to strike the beach is reflected and already moving seaward when the next part of the front reaches the sand," the engineer wrote.

The staggered timing is the key.

Wave energy travels in lines called orthogonals, which are always perpendicular to the wave front.

In Bascom's diagram, one of these energy paths hits the shore at a point, reflects outward, then bends due to refraction, and eventually curves back toward the beach again.

Instead of escaping into deep water, the energy loops back.

In other words, it becomes trapped in a cycle, moving along the shoreline while repeatedly bouncing between shallow and slightly deeper zones.

It's nearly magical.

The path of energy along the shore

The trapped motion is not random. Instead, it follows a smooth, curved path shaped by the changing depth of the ocean floor.

As waves move into deeper water, they speed up and bend. As they return to shallow water, they slow down and bend again.

In his book, Willard Bascom describes this motion through the path of energy.

"The orthogonal start[s] out to sea but then bend[s] around and eventually strike[s] the beach again."

The bending is caused by refraction, the same process that turns incoming waves parallel to the shoreline.

Not all the energy survives each bounce, though. A large portion is lost when waves break and rush up the sand.

Still, "up to about 30 percent of the energy could be reflected to continue on," and that remaining energy is enough to keep the cycle going.

Over time, the wave weakens. Bascom notes that as the wave stretches, "more of the energy radiates off into deep water by diffraction."

By the time the wave completes several cycles, it is obviously much smaller than when it started.

From theory to discovery

Trapped waves were not first spotted by surfers or beachgoers.

They were predicted through theory, by studying the implications of refraction.

In 1952, researchers John Isaacs and Carl Eckart at Scripps Institution of Oceanography described the phenomenon. Later, Walter Munk expanded the idea with detailed mathematical work and called them edge waves.

Today, scientists still study these waves because they are difficult to track in the real world.

Their paths are complex, and the energy can split into smaller waves with different periods, making them hard to map precisely.

Interestingly, trapped waves are rarely mentioned in oceanography and surf forecasts.

Why surfers and beaches feel the effects

Here's a curious fact: even if you cannot see trapped waves directly, you can feel their impact. They help move energy sideways along the coast, not just straight toward land.

Bascom suggested that this process may play a role in "the alongshore propagation of the energy of surf beat."

Surf beat refers to groups of larger waves that cause short-term rises in water level. Trapped waves may carry that energy down the beach from one spot to another.

Therefore, it's a movement that can shape the shoreline itself.

In some places, trapped waves are linked to erosion patterns, sediment buildup, and the formation of rhythmic beach features known as cusps.

These are the evenly spaced arcs you sometimes see along the waterline.

And then, surfers confirm what they empirically probably already know, and that is that wave energy is not always coming straight in.

It can travel along the beach, influencing where waves peak, how they break, and why certain spots feel more powerful than others on a given day.

Words by Luís MP | Founder of SurferToday.com

Zachary Zezima is a surfer, animator, and filmmaker based in Los Angeles.

His latest film, "The Inevitable Return," is a short documentary that explores how military technology and atomic testing became intertwined with contemporary surfing along San Diego's beaches.

Using vérité footage and animation, the short movie follows Shuuluk, a Kumeyaay surfer, as he interacts daily with the effects and complexities of occupation on his land and in his sport, and reclaims it as a practice of joy, play, and connection.

"The Inevitable Return" won the Jury Award from the Honolulu Museum of Art's Honolulu Surf Film Festival.

It also screened at the Portuguese Surf Film Festival and the Maryland Film Festival, as well as at community events in San Diego, Oceanside, San Francisco, and Los Angeles.

SurferToday.com sat down with Zezima to know more about a visual experience that is both about surfing and politics.

What first sparked the idea for "The Inevitable Return"? Was there a specific moment in the water or in your research when you realized this story needed to be told?

The film originally came from experiences in the water, where I felt like surf culture could be pretty exclusive, territorial, and even violent. It got me thinking about why, and in my research into critical surf studies, I uncovered quite a few reasons - too many to make a film about, so I chose one topic: the military's influence.

When it became clear that wetsuits, wave forecasting, and surfboard shapes, designs, and materials all came from military scientists, I thought this was information contemporary surfers should know about. In my opinion, surf equipment detaches us somewhat from the ocean and gives us the impression that we can and should dominate it and each other. A sense of battle exists in the lineups of Southern California.

Surf films often celebrate escape and freedom. Yours seems to confront history and politics embedded in those same waves. What made you want to challenge the traditional surf movie narrative?

I felt like there are enough surf films that center on beauty, celebrity, performance, and even nature. Surfing is so much more than that, and it has a deep connection to various histories that are difficult to learn about. I think it's important to know the history of what one does, especially if it's a defining practice or identity marker.

"The Inevitable Return" links military technology and atomic testing to the culture of surfing in San Diego. For readers unfamiliar with this history, what is the connection, and why is it important to understand?

Many of these technologies originated in the highly militarized San Diego area, and surfers and watermen helped create them as well. As for atomic testing, which displaced and sickened many Indigenous people in the name of science, it gave us things like wave-measuring buoys, eventually evolving into apps like Surfline.

Surfing is often portrayed as universal and borderless. But your documentary suggests the ocean is also deeply tied to land, sovereignty, and history. How does Shuuluk's perspective complicate the idea of surfing as a "free" space?

It calls into question who is in the lineup, how they got there, and why. If you're surfing in Southern California and you're not an Indigenous person, these questions should come into your head before every surf session.

The film speaks about occupation, a word that carries heavy historical and political meaning. In the context of the Kumeyaay coastline, what does that occupation look like today?

The coast in San Diego is highly developed, either for military use or for multi-million dollar real estate. While the military does literally occupy the land, most homeowners in the area, especially on the coast, likely don't consider themselves to be occupiers, even though I would argue that they are.

One of the documentary's most striking ideas is that modern surfing in Southern California exists alongside the legacy of the Cold War and nuclear testing. How did you uncover that history, and were you surprised by how little it's discussed

I learned about it in "The World in the Curl: An Unconventional History of Surfing" by Peter Westwick and Peter Neushul, as well as in "The Crest of the Wave: Adventures in Oceanography" by Willard Bascom. I read a lot to make this film, as most of the information in it isn't found anywhere else but in texts like these.

It makes sense, it's not discussed that much - it's not particularly accessible, and making this film was a part of trying to reverse that and make the information more available.

Do you think surfers generally understand the military history of the coastline they ride waves along, or is that story largely invisible?

In my experience, many surfers generally do not understand the history of the sport outside of key facts, and do not acknowledge the coastline in a meaningful or holistic way.

The film frames surfing not just as a sport but as a practice of joy, play, and connection. Why was it important to highlight that aspect rather than focusing only on trauma or loss?

It's not my intention, especially as someone who's not Indigenous, to make a film about trauma or loss. Pain is definitely a part of the story, but the day-to-day story is one of joy and connection, which gets a long highlight at the end of the film.

You combine vérité footage with animation, which isn't common in surf documentaries. What made that hybrid style necessary for telling this story?

For some of the historical elements, there were photos to accompany the narration, but other times, there was nothing. I decided to fill in those gaps myself through animation that felt more experimental and energetic, mimicking the way history itself is often constructed and pushed forward, with its own momentum and motives.

As both an animator and filmmaker, how did animation help you visualize histories or ideas that couldn't be captured with a camera alone?

I originally started as an illustrator and then moved into animation, and for me, both of these practices allow the unseeable to be seen and felt. It's not only important to me to visualize what hasn't been visualized before, but to also imbue that imagery with tone, feeling, and mood.

You describe yourself as a surfer first. How did your own relationship with surfing shape the way you approached the story?

I surf for fun, so when I see people surfing and getting angry, it just makes me confused. I think this film and the history in it help to identify the ways we've been manipulated as surfers into prioritizing performance and dominance over enjoyment.

Did making this film change how you think about surfing in Southern California?

Absolutely. I surf now with a mix of extreme gratitude and sorrow - but that's life. I enjoy it while I can and feel lucky to be able to.

Were there moments during filming with Shuuluk that shifted your understanding of the coastline you thought you already knew?

Shuuluk has a deep knowledge of the coastline and its history, and he helped me see that it's almost a living being, with its own life and ebbs and flows.

Have Kumeyaay viewers responded differently to the film than general audiences?

Generally, I've witnessed appreciation and respect for this film from Kumeyaay viewers, but I can't speak for the community as a whole. General audiences tend to be really drawn to the hidden histories that Indigenous communities are already well aware of.

What conversations do you hope the film starts within the surf community?

I hope the film broadens conversations about surfing as a community practice, not as an individual, self-serving sport. There are so many aspects to surfing that most surfers don't interrogate, or never thought to, so my goal for this film is for it to open some eyes and ears, and hopefully make surfers more curious about what they do, where they do it, and why.

Words by Luís MP | Founder of SurferToday.com

In western Wyoming, more than 800 miles (1,290 kilometers) from the nearest coastline, a powerful standing wave rises each spring on the Snake River.

Known as Lunch Counter, it has become one of the most recognized river surf breaks in the United States and, we could easily say, in the world.

Surfing here began in the late 1970s, not long after river surfing itself started to take shape in places like Munich's Eisbach River.

Local pioneers in Jackson Hole began experimenting with boards on the Snake, and Lunch Counter quickly stood out. The wave offered something rare: consistency, power, and long rides in a natural setting.

The canyon walls rise above the river, trees line the banks, and the road stays mostly out of sight. Camping nearby is simple and close to fauna and flora. Some surfers stay for days or weeks during peak flow, building their schedules around the river level.

It's just us and Nature's creation.

Over time, word spread. What was once a quiet local curiosity is now a seasonal gathering point for surfers, kayakers, and rafters.

Today, Jackson Hole is often described as the country's best-known river surfing community, and Lunch Counter is its centerpiece.

Where it is and how to find it

Lunch Counter sits on the Snake River near the town of Alpine, Wyoming, about 30 miles (48 kilometers) south of Jackson along U.S. Highway 89.

The wave forms in a canyon stretch of river, not far below, where small tributaries like Red Creek and Little Red Creek enter the Snake.

To reach it, most visitors park at the Big Kahuna or Lunch Counter overlook off the highway. From there, a dirt trail leads down toward the river.

The wave itself is visible from above at certain angles, especially if you scout from upstream near Big Kahuna.

The setting is part of the appeal. There are no city parks or concrete banks here.

The river cuts through rock walls and evergreen forest, and the access path is rough and simple. It feels closer to a backcountry rock climbing spot than a typical river surf break.

When Lunch Counter comes alive

Lunch Counter depends on snowmelt. Yes, that's right, you read it well. Each year, as mountain snow begins to melt between May and early summer, the Snake River swells, and the wave resurrects.

The most reliable flows fall between about 9,000 and 13,000 cubic feet per second (cfs). Within this range, the wave is at its best.

It can still be surfed at lower flows around 6,500 cfs, though it becomes steeper and narrower. At higher flows, the wave grows wider and flatter, sometimes reaching heights near 10 feet around 16,000 cfs.

If the river rises too much, the wave begins to lose shape and wash out.

The surf window is also short. Prime conditions often last only a few weeks each year, which only adds urgency and makes every trip or session here even more special.

The shape of the wave

Lunch Counter is a right-hand wave with a distinctive structure.

Unlike many world-class river waves, where the current pushes straight through, the flow here hits the wave at an angle.

Therefore, there's a long shoulder that allows surfers to carve rather than just navigate it, drawing simple lines.

On a good day, the wave can feel surprisingly close to an ocean break. Surfers can comfortably move along the face, set a rail, and stay on for minutes at a time.

Long rides of five to ten minutes are not unusual, something that you could say is rare in river surfing, especially when there's a long queue of fellow surfers waiting for their turn.

The wave changes with the water level. At lower flows, it becomes steeper and more technical. At higher flows, it smooths out and opens up, though it may lose some of its punch.

Behind the main, shall we say, "peak" lies a smaller, more difficult wave known as Juice Box. Just upstream, you'll find the famous Big Kahuna, another major rapid, though it is less accessible for surfers.

Getting into the wave

Catching Lunch Counter is not simple. The wave sits on the far side of the river, and the current is strong.

Some surfers attempt to ferry across from upstream, aiming to connect with the foam pile that feeds into the wave. It's a strategy that can be sketchy and intense, especially for beginners, as it requires crossing active currents and navigating whitewater.

A more common method is to enter from the river right. Surfers climb onto rocks near the rapid and jump into a lateral seam, a moving line of water that carries them toward the wave's pocket.

Timing and positioning are critical; looking in the right direction matters too. In fast water, your body tends to follow your gaze.

No matter the method, falling is part of the process. Every ride ends with a swim through the rapids and a walk back along the rocky shore.

Skill level and experience

Let us get this straight: Lunch Counter is not a beginner-friendly wave, even though it attracts curious first-timers every year.

The river is cold, often in the 40s °F (4-10 C), and the current is strong. 

So, you should at least learn, ask, and pay attention to understanding how water moves, how eddies form, and how to swim in whitewater.

Even experienced ocean surfers can struggle here if they lack river surfing knowledge.

At the same time, the wave is surfable at many levels for kayakers, and determined beginners do find ways to master it - the environment tends to teach us quickly.

Surfboards and gear

Surfboard choice depends on water level and personal style.

Traditional shortboards tend to work well because of the wave's steep face and angled flow.

Some surfers enjoy taking slightly longer boards, especially at higher flows when the wave flattens out. Longboards can be useful above about 12,000 cfs.

Leashes are commonly used to keep boards close in these lively waters, but, as we all know and learned from the Eisbach, there are risks attached.

In river environments, the legrope can snag on underwater features and hold a surfer in place. Surfers have been injured and died at other river waves.

If you're taking a leash to river waves, do it right.

Wetsuits are essential due to the cold water. Moreover, neoprene adds much-needed buoyancy when you fall (though life jackets add another layer of safety).

Hazards in the current

Lunch Counter is powerful and unpredictable. A small mistake in positioning can lead to a long and exhausting swim.

The wave itself can hold a surfer underwater for longer than expected. Nearby hydraulics can trap and spin swimmers. The eddy below the wave can pull people under and push them along rock ledges.

So, as you can imagine, all precautions are very much welcome.

There are also rafts and kayaks regularly passing through the rapid. In fact, commercial rafting is common on this section of the Snake River, especially in summer, and it is sometimes filled with tourists who are not expecting surfers in the water.

Communication is limited, so awareness becomes critical.

Remember this: boats moving downstream have the right of way, and surfers must yield. At times, the wave is wide enough for both to share space, but not always, so please take care.

Cold water is another factor to consider, as even short swims can drain energy quickly and leave you in a very uncomfortable position.

Swimming itself is indeed part of the skill set. Surfers need to know how to keep their feet up, avoid getting pinned against rocks, and move with the current rather than against it.

While there have been no widely reported drowning incidents directly at Lunch Counter, fatalities have occurred elsewhere on the Snake River.

Helmets are common among cautious surfers, and conditions turn fast in this stunningly gorgeous setting.

The culture on the rocks

Despite its growing popularity, Lunch Counter is pretty much still a local thing with its community culture fingerprint.

Crowds do gather during peak flow, especially in the evenings and on weekends.

And because rides can last several minutes, wait times between turns can stretch long. So, don't be surprised to spend half an hour watching before getting a chance to surf. For a minute or just a few seconds, if you wipe out.

Most surfers keep to themselves, though interactions are generally friendly. There are occasional tensions, especially around crowd size and visiting groups.

Compared to its ocean counterparts, localism is mild but still exists.

There have been discussions among locals about how increased traffic might affect the future of the site.

Ultimately, the appeal goes beyond the ride. The canyon setting, the cold water, and the rhythm of hiking back for another run create a kind of routine.

It feels less like a quick surf session and more like a full-day effort - like going rock climbing.

Nearby breaks

Lunch Counter is alone. In this stretch of the Snake River, there is a small chain of surf breaks with different riding experiences.

Just upstream is Big Kahuna, a large and powerful rapid that helps shape the character of the river here.

While it is a well-known feature among rafters and kayakers, it is not as easy to access for surfers on foot. Its scale makes it more of a spectacle than a regular surf spot for most people.

Close by is California Curler, another named "peak" that has drawn interest from river surfers. Compared to Lunch Counter, it is less famous, but it adds to the sense that this part of the Snake is a natural playground.

Right behind Lunch Counter sits a smaller, more technical wave called Juice Box.

It is harder to ride and less consistent, often overlooked by beginners who are already focused on the main event. For skilled riders, it offers a different kind of challenge.

All in all, these waves form a compact zone where different styles of river riding disciplines and surfing overlap. It's like a natural inland surfing reserve with plenty of colors and flavors for you to try out.

Expect kayakers practicing tricks, rafters punching through whitewater, and surfers waiting their turn on the same stretch of river.

Lunch Counter is kind of a training ground.

A once-in-a-lifetime watersports experience where getting flushed downstream, climbing over rocks, walking along the bank, and lining up again is part of the game.

Words by Luís MP | Founder of SurferToday.com

If you're a surfer or a beachgoer who enjoys swimming in the ocean, you've probably come across a rip current. But only after you're in it, right? Here's how to spot this potentially dangerous hazard.

A rip current is a narrow, fast-moving channel of water that flows away from the shore.

Its birth is relatively simple. It forms when waves push water toward the beach, and that water needs a way to return back out to sea.

Instead of spreading evenly, it often funnels through deeper gaps or channels in the seabed, creating a concentrated stream that moves outward.

Rip currents can appear on almost any beach with breaking waves. They are not rare or unusual. In fact, they are present on many beaches every day, even when the ocean looks calm.

And that's why they can easily trigger panic in children and adults alike. Here's the thing: they do not pull you underwater.

What makes them dangerous is how quickly they can carry you away from shore, often faster than an Olympic swimmer can swim.

Why rip currents form

Let's go into a bit more detail about their formation process, as they are different from rip tides and undertows.

When waves break, they pile water onto the shore. Over time, that water builds up, but gravity pulls it back toward the ocean, where it takes the easiest path.

That path is usually a deeper section of water between sandbars or alongside structures like jetties, piers, or rocks. The result is a concentrated flow that can reach speeds of up to about 6 feet (2 meters) per second in strong cases.

Rip currents can behave in different ways.

Some shoot straight out to sea; others move at an angle along the beach. Some even loop back toward shore in a circular pattern. The unpredictability factor is part of what makes them hard to deal with.

Why they are so dangerous

The biggest danger is panic.

People often try to swim straight back to shore against the current. That usually does not work. Even strong swimmers tire quickly.

Most people cannot swim long distances without rest, and a rip current can carry you far enough that exhaustion becomes a real risk.

The current itself will not drag you under. But panic, fatigue, and poor decisions can turn the situation into an emergency.

Sadly, it makes rip currents one of the leading causes of beach rescues worldwide.

How to spot a rip current

Now, here's the core part of this article. After all, prevention and knowledge play a big role in water safety.

Rip currents are not always easy to see. Studies and beach safety groups often stress that many people either miss them or misidentify them.

Still, there are clear clues if you know what to look for. Let's go by them one by one.

Look for changes in water color and texture

A rip often looks different from the surrounding water. It may appear darker because it is deeper, or murkier because it is carrying sand.

The surface can look rough or choppy, like a narrow river cutting through the ocean.

Watch the waves

Waves tend to break over shallow sandbars. In a rip channel, the water is deeper, so waves may not break there.

It actually creates a noticeable gap. You might see lines of breaking waves on both sides, with a calmer-looking strip in the middle.

That calm patch is often the rip.

Look for movement away from tide lines

Foam, seaweed, or debris drifting steadily out to sea is another strong sign. If you see them floating around and moving offshore, then it's because there is a current carrying material away from the beach.

Check the shape of the shoreline

On some beaches, rips form in small dips or low points along the shore. Water may push further up the sand in these areas.

A simple cool rule often used by lifeguards is: where there is a dip, there may be a rip.

Notice people in the water

If swimmers or surfers are drifting sideways or being pulled away from their starting point while others nearby are not moving much, a current is likely present.

Where rip currents commonly appear

Rip currents can form almost anywhere waves break, but some locations are more prone than others.

They often appear:

• Between sandbars;
• Near headlands or rocky outcrops;
• Next to piers and jetties;
• On beaches with uneven seabeds;

On sandy beaches, they can shift and change position daily. On reef or rocky breaks, they tend to be more consistent and predictable.

What to do if you get caught in one

The most important step is to stay calm. Always. OK? You've got to trust this tip.

A rip current will never carry you endlessly out to sea. Most weaken beyond the line of breaking waves.

So, instead of fighting it, first, float, as it helps conserve energy and keeps your airway clear.

Then, figure out the direction of the current. Once you understand how it is moving, swim across it, not against it. Think of it like exiting a river by swimming to the bank.

When the pull weakens, swim at an angle back toward shore.

If you cannot escape, keep floating and signal for help. Raising an arm and calling out can attract attention for lifeguards, other swimmers, and beachgoers.

How to stay safe

The safest way to deal with a rip current is to avoid it altogether.

Spend a few minutes watching the ocean before entering. Look for the signs described above.

Swim at beaches with lifeguards whenever possible. They are trained to spot hazards and position safe swimming zones.

Pay attention to warning flags and signs. They are there for a reason.

And share your rip current knowledge with your children so they avoid putting themselves in tricky situations.

If you are unsure about the conditions, ask a lifeguard. A short conversation can prevent a dangerous situation.

And if you ever try to help someone else, bring something that floats. Entering the water without flotation can quickly turn one victim into two.

Words by Luís MP | Founder of SurferToday.com

Drowning rarely dominates the news cycle, yet the data paints a clear and urgent picture.

As shocking as it might sound, in the United States, it remains one of the most consistent and preventable causes of death, especially among children.

But let's put official numbers from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) on paper.

Each year, there are about 4,000 fatal unintentional drownings, an average of 11 deaths per day. At the same time, another 8,000 nonfatal drownings occur, or about 22 per day.

And we're not talking about minor incidents.

Nearly 40 percent of drowning cases treated in emergency departments require hospitalization, transfer, or further care, compared to 10 percent for all unintentional injuries.

For every child who dies from drowning, another 7 to 8 children receive emergency care after surviving a similar event.

Overall, estimates also show around 4,000 total drowning deaths annually, including about 900 children and adolescents ages 0 to 19.

Drowning is not always fatal. Survivors can suffer hypoxic brain injury, which can lead to long-term health problems and reduced quality of life.

And what's really heartbreaking is how preventable it could be.

Children face the greatest danger

The youngest children carry the heaviest burden.

More children ages 1 to 4 die from drowning than from any other cause. It is the leading cause of death in this age group. Can you imagine that?

And for children ages 5 to 14, drowning is the second leading cause of unintentional injury death, just behind motor vehicle crashes. Among ages 5 to 19, it becomes the third leading cause.

Overall, drowning accounts for more than 1 in 10 unintentional injury deaths among children and teens.

Where these incidents happen depends on age. Among infants under 1 year old, about 75 percent of drownings occur in bathtubs.

In fact, over 75 percent of bathtub and shower-related drowning deaths involve children under age five, and 90 percent happen when a responsible adult is not supervising.

Infants are most likely to drown at home, including in bathtubs, buckets, toilets, and even small containers of water.

Sadly, it takes very little water for a tragedy. A baby can drown in as little as 1 inch of water.

For children ages 1 to 4, most drownings occur in home swimming pools or nearby water such as ponds, lakes, rivers, or canals.

Among children ages 5 to 14, over 40 percent of drownings occur in natural water, while over 35 percent happen in pools.

So, it feels there are simple things that could be done to lower these numbers.

As people grow older, the pattern shifts further. Among those 15 years and older, almost half of fatal drownings happen in natural waters like lakes, rivers, and oceans.

Most teen and adult drownings occur in these open water settings.

Drowning happens when no one expects it

Many drowning incidents occur outside of planned swim time. Nearly 70 percent of toddler drownings happen during non-swim time, when children unexpectedly gain access to water.

Even when adults are nearby, risk remains high. In 88 percent of child drowning cases, at least one adult was present.

The numbers show how fast and silent drowning can be.

A clear gender gap

Gender plays a major role. Nearly 80 percent of drowning deaths involve males.

Among children and adolescents, boys die at more than twice the rate of girls. The numbers show 15.6 deaths per 1,000,000 for boys, compared to 6 per 1,000,000 for girls.

The risk increases sharply in the teenage years. At age 15, the drowning rate for males nearly triples.

For ages 15 to 24, drowning becomes the third leading cause of injury death, after motor vehicle crashes and falls.

Unequal risk across communities

Drowning risk is not evenly shared. Rates per 1,000,000 people show clear differences:

• Black children: 17.7;
• American Indian and Alaska Native children: 14.1;
• White children: 10.6;
• Asian and Pacific Islander children: 8.8;
• Hispanic children: 8.3;

Black children ages 5 to 14 are especially at risk in swimming pools, where their drowning rates are significantly higher than those of their peers.

Geography also matters. State-level drowning rates range from 0.74 (New York) to 4.4 (Alaska) per 1,000,000 in the 2018-2021 period.

Here's the breakdown per US State:

• Alaska: 4.4
• Hawaii: 3.34
• Montana: 2.32
• Louisiana: 2.31
• Florida: 2.07
• Arkansas: 1.88
• Mississippi: 1.85
• Oklahoma: 1.75
• Idaho: 1.71
• Oregon: 1.66
• New Mexico: 1.62
• South Carolina: 1.59
• Alabama: 1.57
• South Dakota: 1.55
• Kentucky 1.54
• Washington: 1.5
• Maine: 1.45
• Nevada 1.45
• Texas: 1.44
• Arizona: 1.42
• Missouri: 1.42
• Wyoming: 1.41
• Tennessee: 1.4
• West Virginia: 1.36
• Colorado: 1.35
• Georgia: 1.33
• Utah: 1.33
• New Hampshire: 1.32
• Vermont: 1.3
• Indiana: 1.25
• Michigan: 1.22
• North Carolina: 1.2
• Wisconsin: 1.2
• North Dakota: 1.17
• Ohio: 1.14
• Minnesota: 1.12
• California: 1.11
• Kansas: 1.11
• Iowa: 1.08
• Rhode Island: 1.08
• Illinois: 1.06
• Virginia: 1.03
• Maryland: 1.01
• Nebraska: 0.9
• Delaware: 0.83
• Massachusetts: 0.83
• Pennsylvania: 0.81
• Connecticut: 0.78
• New Jersey: 0.77
• New York: 0.74
• District of Columbia: Unreliable

Medical conditions that raise the risk

Some health conditions increase the danger around water. People with seizure disorders face a higher risk, with bathtubs being the most common setting for these incidents.

Heart conditions are also linked to increased drowning risk.

For individuals with autism spectrum disorder, the numbers are striking. They are nearly 40 times more likely to die from drowning than the general population. Children and adults with autism or intellectual disabilities face especially high risks around water.

The role of swimming ability and supervision

Many adults and children report that they cannot swim or are weak swimmers. It's an issue that raises the risk, especially in environments without proper supervision.

Drowning can happen quickly and quietly in pools, lakes, bathtubs, and even small containers of water. Children can slip away unnoticed and reach water without warning.

Formal swimming lessons have been shown to reduce drowning risk, especially among children and young adults.

Life jackets and boating deaths

Simple safety steps are often ignored.

In 2021, there were 658 boating-related deaths in the United States. Of these, 81 percent were caused by drowning, and 83 percent of those who drowned were not wearing life jackets.

Wearing a life jacket remains one of the most effective ways to prevent drowning during water activities.

Alcohol and other substances

Alcohol is a major factor in many drowning incidents.

It is involved in:

• Up to 70 percent of deaths linked to water recreation;
• Nearly 1 in 4 emergency department visits for drowning;
• About 1 in 5 boating deaths;

Alcohol affects balance, coordination, and judgment, and increases risk-taking behavior. Certain drugs and medications can have similar effects, raising drowning risk by reducing awareness or motor control.

Barriers that save lives

Physical safety measures can make a measurable difference.

A four-sided pool fence that separates the pool from the home and yard can reduce a child's drowning risk by 83 percent compared to a three-sided fence.

Safety guidelines recommend fences that are at least 4 feet high, helping prevent unsupervised access to water.

Worldwide data 

We're talking about a global silent killer.

The figures are alarming. About 236,000 people die from drowning each year globally, and drowning accounts for roughly 7 percent of all unintentional injury deaths worldwide.

Also, more than 90 percent of drowning deaths occur in low- and middle-income countries.

Drowning shows a two-peak pattern, with a first peak under 5 years, and a second peak in ages 15-30.

Always remember that most people lose consciousness within 2 minutes underwater.

Irreversible brain injury can begin within 4 to 6 minutes, and submersion longer than 5 minutes sharply increases mortality risk.

Let's do all we can to get these numbers down. Drowning is easily preventable.

The United Nations (UN) declared July 25 World Drowning Prevention Day.

Words by Luís MP | Founder of SurferToday.com