About Half Moon Bay Surf Travel
From Princeton Harbor south, there are four miles of beach that form the crescent of Half Moon Bay. The coast curves from facing southwest at El Granada to northwest at Kelly Avenue, so at any time of day or year, some part of this beach is picking up whatever signals are being sent from north or south.
Most of the time, the surf along here is junk, as it is too exposed, and the bottom is usually flat and not really surf-conducive. But with the right combo of conditions, these beachbreaks can be mind-boggling good.
On the official maps, these beaches are, from north to south, El Granada Beach, Vallejo Beach, Miramar Beach, Naples Beach, Dunes Beach, Venice Beach, Elmar Beach and Francis Beach. There is access to these beaches all along Highway 1.
Like most places at the northern top of North Central California, all of the Half Moon Bay beaches are almost impossible to predict. The weather is in a constant state of flux year-around, and the bottom contours are constantly changing. As a general rule, 90 percent of the time you check these beaches, they’re bad. But if the winds are offshore or glassy, and the swell is small to midsize, preferably from the west, take the road less traveled, get lucky and you may happen on the hottest hundred yards with no one around.
Mavericks:
One of the seven natural wonders of the world, a phenomenon somewhere between Tommy Lee’s manhood and Angel Falls, Maverick’s is that rarest of things: not just a perfect wave and not just a giant wave but a perfect, giant wave. It’s rare when a person or place lives up to the hype, but Maverick’s really does. To surf it or see it from the channel or the cliffs on a perfect, giant day is to be held in awe of one of the most amazing waves on Earth. Maverick’s is, in one overused word, awesome.
The peak at Maverick’s lies a little less than a half-mile off of Pillar Point and is marked by a clump of Stonehenge-like boulders lining the inside (two of these boulders have even been christened: Mushroom Rock on the south end and Sail Rock on the north). Climb up the cliffs lining the Air Force facility that overlooks the break, and you’ll get a hint of what Maverick’s is about: massive swells looming out of the deep, approaching a shelf (about 20 feet under, made up of black, ungodly reef and boulders) at breakneck speeds. From there, Maverick’s becomes a 20-foot version of Stockton Avenue: a perfect, jacking AAA-frame breaking both ways, the right going forever and the left a short-lived explosion of hell and spitfire. Watch a nutcase take off on one of these behemoths, and you’ll see why Darryl Virostko isn’t the only surfer who should be called “Flea.”
But this is only the view from the bleachers. Anyone who’s gone so far as to check the place from the sidelines (not to mention make an attempt at the peak him or herself) will tell you, with a straight face, that it’s a life-changing experience.
Just paddling out can be a test in endurance and, at times, bravery. Besides hitching a ride on a Jet Ski or a boat, there are generally two paths to take: the long road and, you guessed it, the short road. Although it’s much more time-consuming (as long as 45 minutes from the beach to the peak), the long road tends to involve the least risk. Paddle out through the lagoon just in front of the Pillar Point Harbor breakwall, let the current pull you past Mushroom Rock, turn turtle under a few 8- to 10-foot insiders and make the long pull toward the peak. As soon as you see a house-sized tube explode onto the reef, you’ll know where you need to be or need to avoid, depending on your mission.
The short road — which cuts the paddle by about half — is a little more tricky, and we don’t recommend it unless you’re following a NorCal Sherpa who’s done the rock dance 1,000 times. The entry is on the north side of the break, and you have to brave a minefield of submerged rocks and a horrendous shorebreak before it’s smooth sailing out to the peak. Many an experienced big-wave rider has been denied attempting this entrance, and the last thing you want to do is lose a fin on your $700 rhino chaser before you even make it through the shorebreak.
The risk level evens out once you make it to the lineup: no matter where you take off, you’re rolling the dice. The hot spots on the Maverick’s playing field are as follows:
Outer Bowl:
On the biggest of days (20 feet at 20 seconds and beyond on the Half Moon Bay buoy), there’s a takeoff spot about 100 yards out beyond Maverick’s proper. Few waves have been caught here, but all of them have been memorable. Richard Schmidt’s disaster wave in 1992 was a Second Reef bomb and just about every wave ridden on October 28, 1999, started in this zone (albeit with the help of a Jet Ski). Unless you plan on being the first paddle-in surfer to conquer Jaws, it’s not recommended that you attempt Maverick’s when this section’s cracking.
The Corner:
The best surfers at Maverick’s know the Corner like the back of their guns. This is the peak on the extreme north end of the break that, if you time it right and choose the right one, allows you to get into the wave and down the face before you become another wipeout statistic. Maverick’s pioneer Jeff Clark went left (a shorter, intense wave with a psycho drop and a quick shoulder) off this spot for years, and few have followed his lead since then. Since it’s the deepest point you can take off from for the rights, it’s often regarded as the triple diamond takeoff zone. Watch masters like Peter Mel, Flea Virostko and Ken “Skindog” Collins surf the place, though, and you’ll see that the correctly chosen wave from the Corner is actually an easier takeoff than launching into it farther down the line. Note the emphasis on the words, “correctly chosen.” Pick a bad one at the Corner and you’ll follow Jay Moriarity and a host of others into Horrendous Wipeout infamy.
Lates Bowl:
While the wolf pack scrambles for the choice cuts at the corner, the Lates Bowl is an overflow section on the south end that occasionally serves up the rogue monster. When a big set shifts wide of the Corner, it usually breaks on Lates Bowl. The drop tends to be a little easier and the wave a bit fatter, but we’re still talking about Maverick’s: it’s no bunny slope.
The Cauldron:
Just inside the Corner, there’s a wicked set of boils that you want to avoid at all costs. This is the focal point for the majority of Maverick’s wrath and is the spot where you’ll be experiencing your two-wave hold-down if you choose unwisely. Strange phenomena –whirlpools, undertows that suck you into the abyss, etc. — have been known to take place at the cauldron. Proceed with caution.
Since the early 90s, Maverick’s has risen to the forefront on the big-wave-riding frontier, where best hellmen charge the bowl for huge props and the occasional giant prize purse . But unlike Maverick’s overnight notoriety, don’t think that your path to big-wave glory can be as immediate: Maverick’s should not even be attempted unless you’ve logged some serious hours at Waimea or Todos Santos. Then, and only then, are you worthy of gracing Maverick’s with your presence.