THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, August 4, 1996 TAG: 9608010152
SECTION: CAROLINA COAST PAGE: 07 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Cover Story
SOURCE: BY SCOTT HARPER, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: HATTERAS ISLAND LENGTH: 179 lines
``You get on top of a good wave and it's like time stops. You're riding nature, man.''- Mark Newton, 24, a Frisco surfer
THEY COME from wave-less Ohio. Ocean-less Pennsylvania. Beach-less Quebec. In search of what surfing magazines and serious boarders consider the best and biggest waves on the East Coast.
``There really is no choice,'' says Jason Borte, a top-ranking pro surfer from Virginia Beach. ``If you're talking East Coast surf, you're talking the Outer Banks.''
Locals, of course, have known this for years. Many settled here because of the amiable surf scene, which mixes three key ingredients: intense, consistent waves; the near-limitless freedom to surf wherever and whenever; and a laid-back attitude toward a sport still fighting a bad-boy reputation.
But these secrets are quickly surfacing outside of North Carolina.
And crowds of thrill-seeking surfers from across the country are flocking to wavy hot-spots along the barrier islands.
On a recent post card Friday at Cape Hatteras Lighthouse in Buxton - the most renowned surfing spot on the Outer Banks - the parking lot was crammed with surfboard-toting vans and cars boasting license plates from New Hampshire to Florida.
A red Honda bearing a Canadian license plate soon pulled into the lot. With disco-queen Donna Summer wailing on the car stereo, two bright-eyed guys from Three Rivers, Quebec, popped out and high-fived their arrival.
``It's the wave size. They're almost always a little big,'' Francis Metivier, 25, said in a thick French accent, noting how his experience in New Jersey and on Long Island pale to his surfing safari on North Carolina's barrier islands.
While some excellent surf can be found in Kitty Hawk and Nags Head, and as far north as Duck, the most popular stretch along the Outer Banks begins at Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge, south of Oregon Inlet.
There, surfers park on the narrow, sandy shoulders of Route 12 and hike across the dunes to reach long, serene beaches and rollicking surf.
``It's beautiful there,'' said John McDanel, a veteran surfer from Kill Devil Hills. ``When you're out there with the sun going down and you see all the birds flying over the refuge, there's just nothing like it.''
The surfing stretch continues down the coast, to fishing piers in Rodanthe and Avon, before reaching the most famous surfing landmark on the Mid-Atlantic: the spiral striped Cape Hatteras Lighthouse.
In its first-annual readers poll, Surfer magazine's August edition ranks Hatteras as home of the best overall East Coast wave, the most consistent wave, the best left-breaking wave and the best beach.
``Hatteras takes it hands down,'' the magazine concludes.
South of the lighthouse, Hatteras Island juts inland at a sharp right angle. And winds hit the ocean and beaches at a much different slant. For surfers, that often means a totally different set of waves are breaking below the lighthouse.
So when conditions are poor in Buxton or Avon or Nags Head, they may be great in southerly fishing towns like Frisco.
In late July, for example, the Eastern Surfing Association held its fourth amateur competition of the year just outside of Avon. Surfers ranging in age from 9 to 55 gathered on the beach after sunrise to compete for points and bragging rights.
But the waves were flat - and contestants soon grew antsy.
``It's been like this a lot this summer. There's just not much out there. The winds haven't helped us,'' said Bill Hume, a longtime surfer with a graying Beach Boys haircut. Along with his wife, Julie, Hume runs the ESA's Outer Banks chapter.
Rumors started circulating in the late morning that waves were firing south of the lighthouse, in Frisco. So many surfers packed up and left the competition, preferring a chance at a good ride to compiling points that would help them advance to regional and perhaps national contests.
``That's the surfing mentality,'' shrugged Julie Hume. ``If there's good waves out there, that's where they go - regardless.''
A reality check is needed here. While the Outer Banks consistently rates as the top surfing venue on the East Coast, experienced surfers quickly add that the West Coast still dominates.
``On our best day, it's like California every day,'' said Jeff Myers, 20, a Kitty Hawk-based surfer who just returned from a big national contest in southern California, where he made the quarterfinals.
Myers shows another side of the local surf scene - of organized competitions, of travel and camaraderie with the surfing elite, of dreams of corporate sponsors picking up the tab for it all.
Myers looks too small, too young, to be a pro surfer. But he is crafty and flexible on his shortboard, weaving up and down a wave's face. He said he may try the pro circuit next year - and already has deals with several sponsors to do so.
On this day, while competing in the ESA's contest in Avon, Myers finishes second in the advanced men's category. As with all amateur events, there are no prizes, just points.
These are tabulated at the end of the summer, with the top three or four finishers winning the right to compete in regional qualifying events. The best performers there make it to the Eastern Surfing Championships, held each year at - where else? - Cape Hatteras Lighthouse.
The big gathering this year, which draws the top amateurs from New England to Florida, will be held Sept. 8 through 14. The results determine who gets to go to the prestigious U.S. Amateur Surfing Championships, held this year in Oahu, Hawaii.
While some surfers are deadly serious in their pursuits, others approach local ESA events, like the one July 20 outside of Avon, as an opportunity for some fun and sun.
That's especially true, it seems, with the older guys, who usually bring their sons and daughters to compete and seem more interested in trading stories than preparing for their turns on the tides.
Arch Morse, a 45-year-old contractor from Buxton, surfs for exercise and ``to get out of the house, to clear my head.'' He competes in the Grandmasters category, for those 45 years and older. And his buddies continually remind him of his new, wrinkled status.
Morse sports a Grateful Dead T-shirt and a pair of wrap-around shades on this brilliant Saturday morning, joking and talking and sipping coffee in his bare feet.
Bob Schaible, a Kill Devils Hills resident who's surfed for 25 years, walks up and joins the banter. Asked about the importance of surfing in his life, Schaible gets uncharacteristically serious.
``You get in the water and there's solitude out there. It's like a Zen movement,'' he said. ``Your frame of mind becomes positive right away.''
Schaible catches himself and regains a grin.
``But you know, surfing is a lot like playing the guitar,'' he continues. ``As good as you think you are, there's always someone who's better. And as good as you get, there's always more to learn.''
Scott Busbey moved to the Outer Banks in 1975, when the surfing scene was still low-key and the sport still appealing to a subculture of rebels, curious athletes and a few vacationing thrill-seekers.
Busbey, 43 - who runs Natural Art Surf Shop in Buxton and makes his own brand of surfboard called In The Eye - said the biggest difference now is that surfing has become mainstream.
``We used to get a lot of business from Hampton Roads - surfers coming in for the weekend and staying at the campground and surfing all day long,'' he said recently. ``Now we get a lot of families - from Ohio, Delaware, Florida, wherever. The kids are into it. And maybe the dad will rent a board or something for the day.''
With mainstream acceptance has come a slow withering of negative stereotypes of surfers. When the sport first blossomed in California in the 1950s and '60s, surfing was associated with drugs, drop-outs, hippies. While such elements still exist, surfers and supporters have tried to clean up their image.
They have applied to become an Olympic sport. And they stress that characters like Spicoli, the pot-head surfer-slacker from the movie ``Fast Times at Ridgemont High,'' is becoming an anomaly.
``I've noticed that the worse the surfer, the more of a dork he usually is,'' said Myers, the prospective pro from Kitty Hawk. ``The better surfers are friendly, laid back.''
Lynn Shell, a life-long surfer on the Outer Banks, recalled how local business leaders and politicians once feared their islands might become havens for packs of surfers. But with familiarity and a big chunk of economic impact, surfing has largely been accepted in coastal Carolina.
Still, there are fishermen who bemoan how surfers don't follow a local ordinance to keep 300 feet from fishing piers. And National Park Service rangers worry about surfers parking on the sides of refuge roads - and the occasional late-night beach parties they throw.
``But we have a pretty good relationship with surfers,'' said Michelle Uhr, a National Park ranger in Buxton. ``They're a pretty good bunch.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photo on cover by DREW WILSON
Staff photos by DREW WILSON
Chris Novak, 22, left, of Kill Devil Hills, paddles into a wave as
Justin Askew, 21, planes on the face at Hatteras Island.
John McDanel, a long-time competitor, makes the most of a small wave
during the ESA competition at Avon.
A surfer cheers friends in the water as time runs out during a heat
at the Eastern Surfing Association's amateur competition held
outside of Avon.
A thoughtful ESA competitor serves doughnuts to contest judges.
There were no prizes for entrants, only points.
Waiting for his turn to ride the waves, Corolla longboard competitor
Michael Cherry, 22, relaxes on the beach with his girlfriend,
Courtney Buttner, 19.
Scott Busbey, 43, who runs the Natural Art Surf Shop at Buxton,
planes a surfboard in the shop's shaping room. He moved to the Outer
Banks in 1975, when the surfing scene was low-key and the sport
appealing to a subculture of rebels, curious athletes and a few
vacationing thrill-seekers. The difference now, Busbey says, is that
surfing has become mainstream. by CNB