You know what sucked? The waves on the West Coast all summer long. It was/is a flat spell to end all flat spells. So what is one to do when the ocean in one place lies dormant for months on end? Go to another ocean, especially one that’s being absolutely hammered by swell. Of course, those swells didn’t come without a major price–Harvey, Irma, and Jose were awful, but at least there is a tiny bit of icing on that shitty cake.
“The hurricanes started to line up across the Atlantic like bowling balls,” wrote the makers of the film you see above. “First it was Harvey that wreaked havoc in Texas, then Irma blasted our friends in the Caribbean. Following Irma was a fella by the name of Jose, who took a much more ideal path and sauntered up and off the Eastern Seaboard at a leisurely pace despite maximum wind speeds of 155mph.”
Pulling the trigger on a surf trip is always a gamble, so when East Coast tube pig and Superbrand surfer told the rest of the team that they needed to get their asses over there, they packed their bags and booked a flight to Norfolk, Virginia. From there, they headed over to Jesse Hines’ house in Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, home to both the Wright Flyer and some ridiculously good sand-bottom barrels.
The next day, they awoke to something out of a dream. “We screwed fins in and got into boardshorts as fast as possible before jumping into the warm Atlantic Ocean,” they wrote on Vimeo. “Barrels were made, boards were broken, guys were high-fiving total strangers in glee, and we surfed until well past dark. Epic in every sense of the word.”
