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July 13, 2007
61472 visits
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Sebastian Inlet is bleeding.
It's bleeding because it's alive. Every surfer or fisherman who's spilt blood here -- be it his own or another creature's -- is but a bi-product of an already naturally healthy and history-fortified, living, breathing organism.
Which, for at least a quarter of the year, ain't much. Let's be honest here: even though Sebastian Inlet is undoubtedly Central Florida's crown jewel, at best it's the saving grace for a place otherwise placated with stagnant, inconsistent beachbreak blemished by troughs, a shapeless bottom, and profanely long flat spells. |
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But this saving grace can nonetheless be quite divine at times. As any local will swear: That wave can get really, really good. And if you're ever lucky or cunning enough to survive the crowd and pull underneath the eyelid of a mutated wedge off First Peak -- you'll be as hooked as any fish out there. Something has to be said for a spot that draws the best surfers around and transforms them into immortals. Because those surfers know that under optimal conditions, Sebastian Inlet can be as fun and rippable as any beachbreak anywhere (think toned-down Duranbah with similar crowds, maybe worse). And for discretionary purposes, we won't even talk about the other side of the Inlet. But like any food chain, the one found between the peaks here is as lengthy as it is diverse: East Coast legends like Jeff Crawford, Mike Tabeling, and Greg Loehr; early ASP warhorses like Charlie Kuhn and Matt Kechele; the First Peak First Class of Bill Hartley, David Speir, Todd Morcom, Danny Melhado, and Paul Reinecke; competitive prodigies like Kyle Garson and Bryan Hewitson; freesurfing superfreaks like Alek Parker and Phillip Watters; grommies-grow'd-up like Tommy O'Brien, Nick Guilarte, and Blake and Justin Jones; and WCT demigods like CJ and Damien Hobgood and Kelly Slater. They all cut their teeth here. In fact, it could be argued that Sebastian has produced more surfing overachievers than any other three miles of coastline in Mainland America. And where there's big names, there's big attention. Brevard County is far and away the industry hub of the East Coast, housing the greatest concentration of surf shops, boardbuilders, reps, team managers, and media persons this side of Orange County, CA. And the Inlet serves as ground zero for no less than 10 professional surf photographers. Hell, they even have their own exposure outlet right down the street in ESM (Eastern Surf Magazine). But as stated before, the Inlet is its own self-sustaining organism, partially because of what it offers photographically. Depending on the swell, a lensman is often able to shoot up to four spots almost simultaneously -- dead ahead on the beach, atop the jetty, down at the honey hole, up on the bridge, from the water, out the back on a PWC... Photogs are constantly looking for fresh and innovative angles to expose the staggering wealth of talent here. But no Inlet break is as coveted as the infamous First Peak wedge, which requires a south or southeast swell to cause that freakish refraction effect that's been emblazoned in magazines over the past 35 years. But since the jetty was reconstructed in 2003, the First Peak wedge days have become fewer and far between, but they do still happen. However, many local diehards, particularly the goofyfooted ones, insist that north and northeast swells, which far outnumber souths in the way of frequency and duration, are actually better -- making for a more even playing field and a finer distribution of raw Atlantic power. If you're ever lucky or cunning enough to survive the crowd and pull underneath the eyelid of a mutated wedge off First Peak -- you'll be as hooked as any fish out there.
No matter what may be happening in the way of swell, wind, or tide, the Inlet is one of the few places that isn't affected by Central Florida's dreaded troughs, breaking closer to the beach and with more punch than anywhere within a two-hour drive. It's no wonder then that Sebastian Inlet is famous for being the birthplace of the aerial, as progenitors Matt Kechele and John Holeman have been boosting here for nearly three decades. And if you think tricks really are for kids, try telling that to Phillip Watters, CJ Hobgood, or Aaron Cormican, who introduced to the world the first-ever photographically recorded superman, alley-oop varial, and sex change, right here. At the Inlet, innovation is as electric and natural as any summertime lightning storm. Then there's the amenities: several well-scrubbed bathrooms and outside showers, shaded picnic areas, a crow's nest, a fishing camp, a gift shop, and a second-to-none food stand employing a courteous staff who just happen to serve up the best cheeseburger and fries in town with a Southern smile. As for an idyllic waterman's experience, nothing compares to Sebastian -- practically zero development, tidal pools to take the little ones swimming, epic diving and snorkeling, and of course, some of the most sublime fishing on the East Coast. In and out of the water, the wildlife here mirrors the natural serenity of the landscape in terms of breathtaking effect: manatees, gators, dolphins, turtles, tarpons, snakes, skates, manta rays, moray eels, pelicans, spoonbills, otters, the occasional bobcat... and lots and lots of sharks. Could you call Sebastian Inlet the "Surf City of the East Coast"? Nope, no city here. America's ultimate surf park? You'd be bloody well right on that one.
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