East Coast Slab Hunt

PACING back and forth we questioned and doubted our decisions during one of the most active times of the year in the Atlantic, but this is commonplace for any swell hunter. Words and pictures, Matthew Clark Most East Coasters were jubilant over the predictions of Hurricane Leslie's intention to sit off the coast and churn days of medium period swell to shores stretching from Puerto Rico to Nova Scotia. However, for us, it was different. Each step we took from 'home base' became a step into the wild, the unknown. Many of the waves we were searching for aren't even looked at as "surfable" by most locals, and therefore there were't any tips lying around. Every mile is another Dollar from the wallet as you stretch your reach into the unexplored coasts of New England. From golden sands of the Mid-Atlantic to the rugged and uninviting rocky shores of Northeast, New York brothers Will and Cliff Skudin, prepared for a week spent coursing across Leslie's swell that had she liberally dispensed to the northern region. All of this in hope of discovering and hoping sticking a descent down an unfamiliar wave face. Plenty of unnamed mythical slabs litter this part of America's coastline but unfortunately she wouldn't give up her secrets without a fight. "We went fishing for Marlin and caught Mahi-Mahi. It's not what we were looking for, but it still tastes good." explained Will Skudin, announcing through somewhat gritted teeth and salted lips that while the excursion was anything but a failure, it was "time to go home".

Prior to the excursion northward, the crew that included Richie Bogart, TJ Gumiela and the Skudins, moved southward to taste the beginnings of the swell in New Jersey. The winds became an issue throughout most of the trip, making it a waiting game for fronts to move overhead and swell to fill in. New Jersey is all beach breaks and its orientation makes a great catcher's mitt for swell. There we found overhead surf with offshores that tickled our feet late in the day and this was just the first pulse of the swell. We started getting our hopes up for this hurricane because the projected swell heights were similar to those in the past when we had scored a particular gem of a wave in 2010. All of our plans were set in place and we did our best to conceal our excitement between one another because as history has shown time and time again, the more hype a swell has the longer the fall.

After our day in New Jersey, clutching onto consciousness, we packed up the gear and headed towards our planned destination with the intent of being on it at dawn. Exhausted, Cliff and Will traded off taking the wheel throughout the night until we finally arrived with zombie eyes and caffeinated veins. The swell was filling in nicely along this stretch of coastline and the exploration was to begin. TJ and Richie had been dropped off in NY at the Unsound Right Coast Cup competition and were relaying descriptions of home and what we were missing. NY was onshore and similar to the size we found in New Jersey the day before. Will and Cliff, both known for their big wave charging, unhitched the trailer carrying two Jet Ski's, and packed their lunches. The ragged and solemn coastline can be strewn with unridden waves due either to their restricted access, treacherous entry zones, or just the fear instilled in a lone surfer when paddling over "dark water". It's for these reasons that they become dazzling to an adventurous surfer and we were like children capturing fireflies on an August summer night as we tore across the ever changing deep blue seascape. There were so many possibilities in what we found that excitement couldn't be contained, we were guaranteed to score... or so we thought.

Over the first two or three days of taking the ski out we plotted our course for the anticipated bump in swell heights. We had our charts out and marked off spots along the coast that matched or resembled the bottom contours of the slab we came to surf in hopes of pulling up to a sister wave in the vicinity. Each day passing the swell either pushed back another day or dropped in size.

Morale dropped further and further as each check of the main spot revealed the same size and power, disappointing as we had initially expected more. Unfortunately TS Leslie kept sliding further out into the Atlantic pushing the swell away from us and over to Nova Scotia. Something you learn on one of these voyages is that it's much different than what the weekend warrior will go through when spot checking during a hurricane swell. More often than not, your local surfer will show up at the home spot and either go out no matter what the conditions are - or they will check another lesser spot for a playful and stress reducing session because time is against them. It's quite the opposite when you're away from home, we didn't come to relax, we came to do work and ride new waves. It's constant homework and checking the forecast, reading buoys, and checking maps not to mention all of the other tinker-tot work you have to do to maintain forward progress on the "mission".

Truth be told everyone left New England satisfied and we were more than happy with how the swell turned out alongside the local hospitality and interest in what we were doing there. We made the best of the swell that never quite matured as we'd have wished with sessions at a smaller protected reef point and even some sessions at one of the more well known slabs. Putting around "north of nowhere", along coastline that's been etched by the sea, the chill of the fall, whitewash explosions along a rocky shore, and the faint chime sung by the sway of a bell buoy at sea puts a seafarers smile on your mug, one which often resembles a stone faced grimace yet hides the butterflies of excitement. Excitement planted in the pits of our stomachs patiently waiting to sprout as we anticipate the next low pressure system to ripple rhythmic lines through the Atlantic.

Will funneling the expertise he's garnered from many years spent on the North Shore to weasel his way through this technical section.

Gumelia basking in the evening fall colors. Though autumn doesn't start until mid-September, the chill is already present in the northeast and winters blue hues are just around the corner.

With absolutely no access to this wave other than by water, we're fairly certain this wave goes unridden almost every time it breaks if it's even ever been ridden at all.

Cliff Skudin pictured driving here, his brother Will glowing as the remnants of Leslie begin to fade away.

Not a soul in sight just outside one of the most populated cities on earth. Incredible.

New England is one of the most beautiful coasts in the world. Home to a rich heritage of families tied to the Atlantic and an abundance of sealife.

This guy potentially caught one of our meals this day. The rocky shore and that ocean haze truly are the essence of New England.

Just as the first lines of Leslie's week long swell arrived, Will Skudin was already in the ocean enjoying the first day off after a long summer running Skudin Surf camp alongside his brother Cliff.

Gumelia packed into a neat New Jersey tube. It's hard to find lefts in New Jersey but the one's you do get open real wide.

Richie Bogart made the best of a day in New Jersey before competing the following day in the Unsound Right Coast Cup presented by Quiksilver.

Tight and in control, Will Skudin threading the needle.

Cliff with his eyes on the exit, plotting a stylish claim? Not today.

A rusty dock ring, arty looking, yes. But just take a moment and imagine how many stories are contained in that worn metal.

The break in the storm, finally some sun as we finished up a morning of shooting.

At a lower tide this spot really comes together if it isn't all that big. Here you can see one that slid along the reef perfectly.

Will jamming his arm in the face for a quick look out of this New York tube.

A look at the slabs fist.

TJ Gumiela punting tail first through the storm.

A New York corner we found protected from some wind with plenty of face to work with.

TJ Gumiela releasing the rail, tail, and fins.

A secret little right we found, this wave would stand up out of nowhere then bowl so hard over one slab of reef and then fizzle out.

The bowl about to toss and will leaning straight into it.

An eagle's claw caressing an overcast sky.

A local paddled out and went for one. He ended up pinned to the reef and clutching his heel after a magnificent elevator drop and paddled back to the rocky shore.