Someone had said there might be waves at a particular peninsula and its neighboring cove. After a month or so of being on an island halfway up the coast of Maine, and finding only borderline surfable waves, he was eager to follow the only real lead he had. And with buoys reading 8ft at 12 seconds, things looked promising. Now, driving to the other side of the island didn’t seem so far at all. After all, this was the real reason why he chose to drive across the continent; to spend the fall semester of school in the van in a small harbor town and find cold empty waves.

          As he pulled up to park, he peered over the cobblestone and bedrock that fed into the ocean. He couldn’t contain himself. Not only were there waves, there were a couple of people out. Albeit, not the best surf he’d ever seen but the best he had seen on the island so far. He watched through the wind and rain that had blessed them with surfable waves, as a few hardy souls endured the 40 degree air and 50 degree water. As he and his dog piled out of the van to sit and watch, he wondered how fast conditions would change with the 15ft tide swings.

          Almost in answer to his questions, a guy came out of the water. With slurred speech through frozen lips, he described how in a couple of hours a better spot would be working around the corner. With anticipation building, he and the dog wandered the shoreline imagining where the wave would present itself as the tide sucked back out to sea.

           As they walked along the shore, they came across another guy and his comically paired dogs.

          “You goin’ out?” The guy yelled in a barely disceranable New England accent, barely managing to maintain control of his great dane and chihuahua.

          “Of course!” He replied, a little shocked at the number of people (only 3 so far) here to surf today.

          Waiting for the tide, they begin to talk about the rarity they have found in common in such an unlikely place. As an outsider, he asked about this spot in particular, trying to glean as much information to lock away in his mental guidebook of cold water waves. Without skipping a beat, and eager to share the man opened up about how he taught himself to surf here 30 years ago. He continued to describe how he surfed here primarily by himself, until recently. As he worked through the decades he had spent here, he told tall tales of Nor’easters that would blow through the cove, and the memorable surf the storms provided. Today was not one for the history books, but it was enough to get them both fired up.

          The time came for them to all get in the water. The ritualistic scramble of preparing boards and layering up from head to toe several millimeters of neoprene commenced. With anticipation building, and the tide dropping they danced across the slick algae-covered cobblestones the tide had uncovered and began the frigid paddle.

          Complete strangers only an hour or so ago, they were hooting and yelling at each other like old friends. The wave itself was a very fast and draining right point, continuing to drain more as the tide continued to suck out. As he watched the guy he had talked with earlier ride some waves, he was impressed. The man was not surfing with world-class maneuvers or grace, but knew this wave intimately. This familiarity with the wave was apparent with each wave he selected, and trim and poise he presented. Each wave concluded with a zealous claim, followed by a smile that revealed more stoke than he had seen in a long time.

          “This guy figured it out…” He thought to himself.

          While hunched over trying to stay as warm as possible, he pondered over the beauty of the situation. He was reminded of something he had heard recently. It was a belief someone shared with him; that people have greatly underestimated the space an individual needs. Thinking back to the countless spots he’s surfed, he realized why he is drawn to the cold water.

          Comparing times he had spent in friendlier conditions with more people, aggression and anger seemed to grow from the shoulder to shoulder conditions. He reckoned; these colder conditions tend to drive many people away. Those that remain, really want to be there. With this in mind, he realized the wave itself was not what he searched for. The experience of seeking out fickle conditions, greatly limited by tides, winds, swells, and daylight to share a fleeting moment with a few others who made the journey is the real gem.