Moon Tubes

No doubt we aren’t the only ones to have entertained a dream or two of surfing by moonlight.
During the heart of a long Alaskan winter it’s only natural to consider this…with only eight hours of daylight and a 10-20ft tide fluctuation you’d think the chances of the surf peaking at night are relatively high.

Well, after about 10 years of watching the surf in Homer I have to say, it’s a special night that the swell, wind, tide, and cloud cover will cooperate with the moon cycle.

Once upon a time in a little cosmic hamlet by the sea all the magic ingredients came together. A swell was rolling into Kachemak Bay, the winds were calm, the tide was right, the sky was clear, and it was a full moon.

These weren’t just some mushy little good enough waves, this was chest to head high barreling surf lit by the light of the moon.

I couldn’t pass the opportunity to attempt photographing this once in a decade event, so here is the humble results of my attempts. Let me just make it clear- the photos don’t do the experience justice. There was a buzz in the air, we talked about moon tubes for weeks after this, and we are eagerly awaiting the next chance we get.

Jake and Jake giggling into their wave robber suits.

10ºF, 2:30am, and Maria Calhoun is heading out for her first Alaskan surf session.

My view from the beach littered with ice, Orion's belt floating over the Kenai Mountains.

A ghostly image of Jake Bell standing on the beloved super sandbar (RIP).

Study this for a minute and you can make out a white streak and black blur of a surfer.

They surf at night by the light of the moon. Look close.

It's a race against the fog and the rising tide. We barely snuck in, now the plane has to sneak out.

Yet another successful fly-in fly-out surfari to the Petrof Glacier break.

Something to put in the back of your mind for the next time you are scheming on flying over a coastal mountain range for a day at a remote surf break . . . What you see on your side is likely not what you’ll find on the other side. This was the certainly the case on January 30th when we loaded up the Homer Air Cessna 206 with surf boards and a little survival gear and headed up over the Kenai Mountain Range.

Scenic glacier and mountain views on our fly-out surf trip to a remote surf break in Alaska.

This time we did suspect that we might see some fog, but just couldn’t resist taking the gamble. The coastal fog was pretty thick as far as we could see as we came over the mountains. It was all smiles and surf stoke when we saw a swell crashing on the beach through a little sliver of a window in the fog right over the very beach we needed to land on.

A window to paradise. The fog parts for our beach landing.

The tides were such that we could just squeeze onto the beach in the morning before the water rose too high (see the photo below, no time to spare!). Pickup was scheduled for just before dark once the tide had ebbed enough to uncover the beach landing site again.

No sooner had we unloaded the plane than a set wave surged all the way up to the landing gear as the pilot powered up for takeoff.

We were particularly eager to surf through the high tide this trip after what we found on the previous Petrof surfari – Winter storms had sculpted the bar into something that just begged to be surfed on a high tide. Well, it turns out that the winter storms weren’t done and the bar was totally different again this trip. But no worries, our dreams were fulfilled with a killer session of quick drops and barrels on the new bar.

As soon as the plane departed the little window in the fog that let us onto the beach closed in all around us. The entire day was spent in a fog so thick that the beach was only intermittently visible. Silky smooth waist to slightly overhead swells were emerging out of the fog all day.

Stephanie Haynes walking out to a myseriously perfect break.

Mike McCune gets his first bit of bliss for the day. Trust me he's there in the fog, right in the pocket.

After watching Mike surf this wave, the camera went in the bag - My vision was foggy, but it was clearly time for me to get in the water!

After a short four hours we decided it was time to think about how we were going to spend the night with four wet surfers in a single two man tent. And how about starting a fire in a rainforest?

As soon as we were out of our wetsuits we got to working on the fire and heating water on a camp stove. Just as the fire finally got going we heard a buzzing overhead. With mixed emotions we watched our plane emerge from the fog as it touched down on the beach. I don’t think I was the only one already looking forward to that morning surf session.  At least it was a more appealing thought than the 14hrs of darkness to come before it.

Loading the plane still wondering if we really wanted to be stranded?

View back to the remote Petrof Glacier fly-in surf spot somewhere under that coastal fog below the glacier.

Stunning flightsee at sunset on the way back to Homer, Alaska through the Kenai Mountains.

Not a lot of photos from this trip, I kept thinking the fog would clear and then I’d stop and capture a few of those sweet waves. Well, good thing I took a few shots before leaving the camera high up on the beach, out of the tides reach, and ran myself out of sight into the fog. No regrets missing the photos here though – my memory is foggy but I’ll bet there were more barrels in that session alone than my previous three years of surfing combined. I take that back, one regret, I should have started counting at the beginning!

Like what you are seeing? want to see more about this Petrof Glacier fly-out surf thing?Further reading here on SurfAlaska.net below:

• Petrof glacier surf – pt. 1
• Petrof glacier surf – pt. 2
• Surfing Petrof Glacier 1.8.10 – Getting There
• Surfing Petrof Glacier 1.8.10

Iceman scores another left on a steel blue morning in January.

January 2010 was a pretty slow month for us Homer, Alaska surfers. We were eager when a swell finally showed up on the 22nd. Honestly, I can’t remember much about these sessions -  judging by the small number of photos, I must have spent most the swell window in the water recovering from the preceding dry spell. Looks like we had a nice morning session then a sweetly scenic sunset surf.

Party wave!

Iceman sneaking in the backdoor. Looks like it's going to be a tight fit.

Tim Bowler slipping along after sunset.

Douglas Volcano floating over Cook Inlet. Sometimes the scenery is a bit of a distraction here in Alaska.

Augustine Volcano

A commercial fishing boat heading for home.

Goodnight.

Surfing in Alaska we get to see a lot of unusual things. These waves in Anchor Point a few days ago were cool, really cool, almost frozen, like a salt slurpee. I was mesmerized, in a desperate effort to try and capture this sight, despite the flat light, I shot some video and photos:

Alaskan slush barrel

The slush layer was about 100ft wide, see the dark water outside.

The set waves were about thigh high.

Heavy slush with ice chunks

We thought about trying to surf these, but the size just didn’t look like it was enough to overcome the drag of moving through all that slush and we were actually having a good time just watching! Besides just being alien like, one fascinating thing about a slush layer is that even a 20mph onshore wind can’t disturb the waves underneath. I’m really looking forward to finding these conditions with a head high swell. Can’t wait to see someone surfing down a slush face or getting barreled in a slurpee, probably call that getting slurped I guess.

Santa walking up the beach for another surf in the Cook Inlet storm swell.

It’s become a bit of a tradition to go surfing on Christmas day here in Alaska.  Well, at least for about five of us in Homer anyhow.  Every year we wonder if Santa will show up and what kind of wave slider he’ll be using. Not too surprising then when he did make an appearance for our stormy session at Anchor Point with his ruby slipper as we call it. We’ve seen this one before, seems to be a favorite craft of his.

The surf was pretty decent in Anchor Point (20 miles north of Homer) with about shoulder high sets and a pretty stiff sideshore breeze. The current was brutal though – With some of the largest tides in the world, Cook Inlet moves a lot of water during each tide cycle. A 20ft water depth change every 6hrs is not uncommon.  This session the wind and the tide were double teaming us which made for a bunch of beach walking . . . Jump in, paddle out, try your best to stay in one spot, maybe catch a wave, get out and walk up the beach and try again.  Even Santa couldn’t beat this current. Sort of made me wonder why he didn’t bring the reindeer along, we could have all used some help.

ps. I’ve heard some reports that local surf kayaker Randy Keller was missing on Christmas day, he has since been found and appears to be ok.