Every once in a while, something will happen that is extra special. It could be a job promotion, a birthday surprise, or a hurricane named Sandy coming to your local beach. How fitting then, that the most prolific hurricane to ever hit the East Coast just happened to be named Sandy, that catastrophic swell that threw sand in all directions. I even saw a tarpon or mullet free diving off a huge Pumphouse monster in a photo by Mike Jones of Azhiaziam.
Leading up to this swell, I had been talking with good friend David Chambers about hurricane season possibly coming to a close. I guess my assumptions were very wrong. October 27th was a work day for me. I was shooting a Bar Mitvah, and all I was hearing were stories of the swell hitting at South Beach. When Monday came around I was out the door and headed south for Pumphouse. I walked up the boardwalk to see Slater out and waiting for a wave, but he never really managed to get into anything, so he jetted off south on the ski with Matt Kechele. We all packed up and headed to Reef Road. As I walked over the dune at The Road, the waves were reminiscent of Western Australia. Blue water, spitting tubes, and seemingly infinite lines marching in from the horizon. It was what every surfer dreams of.
I was like a kid in a candy store. Every second something was going on in the lineup: long tubes, empty spitters and rad wipeouts. After the session, we went back to a friend’s house to watch the footage from Super Sunday at Pumphouse. I was convinced that history was made for East Coast surfing.