New surf club takes on Cape Cod

Daniel Morgan Guest Writer

At the crack of dawn last weekend, nine brave souls set a course for a mind-blowing vacation to Cape Cod. We not only sought a vacation from the schedules and various blunt instruments of academia, but also a relationship with nature known to most people as surfing. Purists may cast doubts on the whole idea of ‘East Coast surfing’—and they have every right to. Usually it’s about as much fun as trying to play soccer on ice. But the gods of sky, earth, waves, and wind were having a glorious tea-party that weekend.

Five hours of mix tapes later, the road ends at a small parking lot where we unload and get pumped. With our five long boards in tow, we cruise down to a spot on the beach past the locals who, in their traditional fashion, sit bundled in throw blankets reading The New Yorker in folding chairs. Though they probably thought we were crazy, in a few minutes it became apparent who was having more fun.

The waves were surprisingly large for the East Coast. Our resident expert, Roger Putnam ’06, explained that there are only a couple days a year where the surf is that high. Clearly we were experiencing cosmic odds. Blue skies over choppy large swells and a light breeze made our first surf sesh that day—and for the club’s history—a success. I didn’t know what to expect from these Arctic-Atlantic mystery waves, but they reminded me of a more violent and choppy winter scene at my favorite beaches in Los Angeles. At times, it felt like we were surfing in the middle of a storm; the irregularity of the waves was like something out of The Perfect Storm.

We stayed at Camp Nickerson, a haven for city dwellers, families, and nature-folk. In a way, we represented that entire demographic. We set up a couple tents, built a fire, devoured beer-battered burgers, and then we got the itch again. We went farther north up the coast this time, and found ourselves surfing in the most indescribably beautiful sunset. The better waves at this break made the sunset at our back almost more tragic than beautiful. To unfreeze our cold blue faces, we did what any fun-loving surf club would do: we went to a double feature of Anacondas and The Exorcist at a drive-in.

Looking back, this trip really defined the surf club in an extraordinary way. As the trip developed, we each felt as if we were living 110 percent of our lives; experiencing the beautiful, partaking in the astonishing, and leaping into great unknowns making it a great victory. But if you ask me in passing, I’d tell you it was just mellow.