Laird’s “Millennium Wave” at Teahupo’o, circa 2000, as the best ever? Guess again. Photo: Tim McKenna
Odd, how so many people love “best” lists. Odder, still, how many surfers might find the title of this story irresistible, considering that for most, the best ride in surfing history was their last one. Or at least their last good one (another seemingly arbitrary designation). I do believe, however, that a suitable criteria can be established that allows this superlative to be applied to a single ride, on a single wave, by a single performer — one that deserves to be called “the best”.
First off is the need to delineate between the terms “best” and “greatest,” these two adjectives having very different meanings. By my definition, surfing history’s “greatest” ride must meet an extremely demanding set of requirements, manifesting, when taken in its entirety, the following characteristics: dangerous, audacious, unprecedented, innovative, spectacular and, ultimately, heroic.
“The Greatest” short list is impressive. Duke Kahanamoku’s legendary mile-long olo-slide from outside Kalehuawehe to the beach at Waikiki in 1917, Greg Noll’s Chuck Yeager act, breaking the “of sound mind” barrier for the first time at Third Reef Pipeline in 1964, James Jones’ first deliberate barrel ride from behind the peak at Waimea Bay in 1977; whichever madman first ollied over the triple-up ledge and successfully rode out of it on a big day at Shipsterns Bluff. All epic rides; all truly great rides. But there can only be one greatest, and it’s Laird Hamilton’s reality-bending “Millennium Wave” at Teahupo’o in 2000.
You could argue about this with me…but you’d lose. Consider how it ticks off all five boxes of the criteria listed above. Extremely dangerous (duh), incredibly audacious (“Silly Laird, tow surfing is for deep-water big wave breaks, not maxed-out shallow reef-passes”), unquestionably unprecedented (no surfer before had ever even imagined riding a wave like this, or in this manner), supremely innovative (the ski, the straps, the flotation…spontaneously dragging the hand on the outside rail to keep from getting sucked up the face and over the falls), and, with its dramatic three-act structure (take-off seventy-five feet further up the reef than any surfer before or since, all-or-nothing commitment to the monster tube, disappearance and then re-emergence through the spit) undeniably spectacular; heroic by any Homeric standard you’d care to reference. In short, simply “The Greatest.”
Just for fun, I’ll apply these same rules to a sub-category: contest surfing. By applying these standards — and I mean adhering to each one both specifically and in the aggregate — the greatest contest ride in surfing history is without question Filipe Toledo’s perfect-10, double alley-oop combo at the 2017 Corona Open, at Jeffrey’s Bay. High risk in a heat, riding the speeding J-Bay walls in a completely unprecedented manner: two back-to-back, high-flying, high amplitude, full-rotational alley-oops (innovation on steroids), full-rail carve, floater-to-air drop, second carve, blow-tail snap, another tight, straight-up snap, ending with a tail-drop floater.
Spectacular to say the least; both audacious and heroic, to risk squandering a perfect J-Bay wave with a couple of skateboard moves, and under the scrutiny of a very critical audience, both on the beach and in the online comment sections. Point to another wet-jersied ride that even comes close and I’ll happily submit an online retraction. But don’t waste your time braying about any 10-pointers at spots like Pipeline, Cloudbreak and Teahupo’o — barrel rides, however thrilling to experience and watch, are generally neither unprecedented nor innovative. Pretty standard, actually, at notoriously hollow breaks like the aforementioned trio, where contest judging criteria is basically “you better get a good tube ride or else settle for a three.” And while I’m at it, nothing from any of the Eddie contests at Waimea Bay, either. Since first held at The Bay in 1986, every winner of this storied event has earned first place with rides eerily similar to many of Eddie Aikau’s…in the mid-1960s.
So, now that we’ve established the difference between “best” and “greatest,” let’s lay out the criteria for the former. By my estimation, to be considered surf history’s best, a ride first has to have taken advantage of every area and element the wave has to offer, exhibiting not merely the surfer’s ability to ride the wave, but a demonstration of spontaneous rapport; instinctive, not choreographed performance. Individual maneuvers should not be inventoried, but flow from each to the next with no loss of propulsion, matching, not opposing, the inherent speed of the wave. The surfer must be riding precisely the right board for the particular conditions, giving the very accurate impression that they’re riding the wave, not the surfboard; rendering the board practically invisible. And lastly, the ride doesn’t necessarily need to end, if the surfer is so involved with the ephemeral thrill of riding a particular wave that there’s no thought of ever kicking out; living the life of that wave, with that wave, to the last drop, right up to its end.
Tough standard to meet. Individual bests, not so. Easy to point to the best-ever single maneuver: Tom Carroll’s “The Snap” in the 1991 Pipeline Masters, a 180-degree, frontside hook in the pocket of that famous curl that had never been done before, nor has it been since (runner-up just could be John John Florence’s carving top-turn at minute 2:42 in his 2024 Hale’iwa compilation.) Koa Smith’s glassy, two-hour tube ride at Namibia’s Skeleton Bay would have to be considered the “best ever,” had he not been chewing on a GoPro — self-documentation heightens the performative nature of the ride, significantly robbing it of its wonder. First-place then goes to Caity Simmer on “that crazy one” from last year’s Cape Verde Islands clip. Best “ye olde” big wave ride? No contest: Peter Mel’s epic “Ride of the Year”— and every other year — at Maverick’s in January of 2021. And if you’re thinking about best ride on a longboard, forget about the sixties. Instead, watch Devon Howard at minute 5:32 in the latest “CI Log Breakdown” promo video and tell me anyone has ever done it better.
But the best ride in surfing history, the one that exemplifies all the attributes I’ve listed above, (without even adding in the fact that it took place on a wave the surfer had never ridden before, on a board he’d never ridden before) has got to be from Tom Curren’s 1992 inaugural session at Jeffreys Bay, South Africa. We’ve all seen it, and if you haven’t, check out the clip above before reading any further.
Despite popular legend, this wasn’t Curren’s first wave, but actually the second one ridden during his first session on that beautiful 6’6” x 18 ¼ x 2 5/16 thruster shaped by Australian Mark Rabbidge. Nevertheless, from the first moment Tom takes off, completely covered by the lip, to the last moment, when he pulls into the unmakeable end section, his seamless combination of full-rail turns and no-hand-drag tubes, seemingly performed without any superfluous effort, achieving total rapport with the wave by putting himself in exactly the right place on the wave at the right time, yet still exhibiting graceful power, aggression and personal style, encapsulates everything that good surfing should be, regardless of choice of equipment or size of wave.
And if that doesn’t qualify a ride to be called the best in surfing’s history, nothing does.
