Down in South Florida, when the waves are too big in Melbourne and too small down around the Deerfield Pier, the perfect wave can be found in Jupiter. Glassy, the bluest of blue and just the right amount of pier pressure, Jupiter is paradise found. 

Moving from Oahu in the Pacific Rim to a little island in Jupiter, I found the endless summer lifestyle I sought, had a multitude of similarities between the two islands. Upon first moving to Florida, the lifestyle so closely resembled how it had been in Hawaii, it felt like home again. Going out on the boat, surf checks, dawn patrol in the waves, kids on skateboards down at the beach, people cruising in beach vehicles like Volkswagen buses and jacked up pickup trucks, with surfboards on the roof or hanging out the back. I loved set out early in the morning to chase waves and explore my new home in South Florida. 

While living the dream in Hawaii, one of my favorite things to do, when time allowed, was pack up the car, grab a couple boards, and look for a wave. Every weekend was like vacation, heading out of Waikiki and trekking up to the North Shore. In the thick winter waves engulfing the North Shore, I found solace at Pua’ena Point in Haleiwa. After paddling out at Sunset Beach on a “big day,” I very quickly learned, it’s not fun if you’re terrified. 

In South Florida, I found some incredible breaks down in Delray when the waves were too rough and messy around Jupiter. When the ocean was flat in Jupiter, I loved to take a day and head up to Melbourne or Cocoa Beach. New Smyrna and Vilano Beach just north of Saint Augustine were more like weekender treks. I thought of the day or weekend trips as mini surf safaris, finding my new favorite spots. 

However, Florida was unlike Hawaii in other ways. When I moved to South Florida, I actually thought I knew how to surf. I had surfed Waikiki every day, sometimes several times a day, for years by then. Oh how wrong I was. Waikiki is reminiscent of a wave machine. Wave after wave of perfection. Clear, glassy water with the consistency of a wave manufactured by Kelly Slater. I had no idea how good I had it. 

I learned to surf in Hawaii, but I became the surfer I am today in Florida. It’s often said that if you can ski the icy conditions of New England, you can ski anywhere. Adventuring out west to Colorado will be powdered sugar paradise after braving the elements of Vermont. One could easily make a similar comparison between the waves in South Florida and Hawaii. If you can surf South Florida, you can surf anywhere.

Surfing in Florida can be… complicated. You have to consider the tide, the wind, the spot, the sandbar, is there even a wave out there? And if there is, will it be gone in ten minutes? I’ve driven by the beach for a surf check, spied a wave, dashed home to grab a board, and by the time I’ve made it back to the beach, the ocean has gone flat. Florida is fickle. Upon paddling out to the lineup, one is often met with the ubiquitous remark, “Shoulda been here earlier…” But on the flip side, sometimes there’s no one out there at all. Waves all to yourself in a not-so-secret spot. 

In the long, flat summer days, Jupiter is notoriously waveless. Often I’ll drive hours north to Cocoa Beach – almost always a sure thing (knock on wood) – surf a few hours, and drive two hours back down south. In Cocoa Beach there is reliable turn and burn, wave after wave, rolling as fast as I can catch them. Still, four hours of driving for a few hours of surfing… not ideal. But when the ocean off the coast of Jupiter is flat and locals are referring to it as Lake Atlantic, you do what you have to do. And I take solace in the fact that being near any ocean is a welcome lifestyle. Far better than being landlocked, I’ll take what I can get. 

The trick to surfing up north is to get ready the night before, wake up before dawn and get on the road while it’s still dark. It’s all part of the adventure. The stoke will get you going, jumping out of bed when the alarm goes off. Listen to some great music on the way up, drink your favorite coffee, and the drive will go quick as you anticipate the waves. With any luck, I’m paddling out by sunrise. Then there in the rising sun… like corduroy, wave after wave, lines in the sea.

The earlier the better, it gets hot, really hot, and no amount of sunscreen stays on when you’ve been in the water for hours upon hours. I typically surf as long as I possibly can. Then when I’m too tired to push myself up on even one more wave, I drag myself back to the car, no doubt sunburned and dehydrated, to head home, grabbing a quick bite on my way out of town. I speed home and hope for smooth travels. If everything goes according to plan, I‘m settling in for a nap in the air conditioning during the hottest part of the afternoon. These are the kind of do-whatever-you-want-days that remind you what life is all about. Forget about the mortgage, the bills can wait, Monday will come soon enough. 

I learned to surf in Hawaii, but I became a real surfer in Florida. Much like anything in life, you have to really want it. Florida surfers are scrappy. We take what we can get. Fight for it. If you can’t paddle, you have no chance. And remember, if you can surf in Florida, you can surf anywhere.

Ode to Surfing • A Poem About Surfing for Groms and Groms at Heart