Reef Road |
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Prior to 1916, the most famous wave in South Florida was a nameless brackish creek winding through the roots of red mangroves. The surrounding area, what now lies between Singer Island condominiums and the estates of Palm Beach, was a low, soft spot of earth canopied by leaves, not concrete. To encourage commerce, and to facilitate trade with farmers in the Everglades, the Army Corps of Engineers dredged the inlet in 1916, creating the long, lined-up left now referred to as Reef Road. In this present era of maddening crowds, it's painful to imagine all the winter swells that went unridden and unappreciated during the nearly half-century before surfers tested the waters.
From the beginning, conflict existed between surfers and residents around Palm Beach. Early on, area surfers were far from becoming a unified culture, largely because trips to Palm Beach had to be low-key. No one remembers if Palm Beach actually made surfing illegal, or if they simply looked upon surfers as undesirables. Regardless, longtime local Paul Gingras remembers being threatened with arrest, despite the permission he received from property owners to surf behind their houses. The break wasn't called Reef Road in those days. Gingras believes the road served as a landmark for the growing number of surfers visiting in 1970. Although it's tough to say who surfed there first, Gingras recalls paddling out "when we weren't sure you could really ride those waves. But when Bill Holmes arrived, he really recognized the wave for what it was." Holmes' arrival in 1963 marks the end of the prelude to surf history in Palm Beach. And Chummer McCranels and Gingras best represent that era. Both were there in the beginning and both still surf with ageless exuberance. After the founding fathers broke ground, it didn't take long for a tight-knit crew to establish -- along with a short list of world-class surfers. Kim Neilson began his thin legacy in the late '60s and, in the early '70s, faded into the status of an icon. McCranels' son, Scott, began translating what he learned at the skate ramp to the vertical ramps at Reef Road. In 1984, three years into the University of Florida, Scott packed his bright wetsuits and colorful boards for a three-year stint on the ASP tour. His success inspired Peter Mendia, likely the most recognized local export. Mendia continues to show off his world-class cutties and tube stalls at Reef Road -- assuming he's not chasing cover shots on some foreign shore -- stoking local grommets, and watching over the next generation of Palm Beach pros. Despite any populist resentment, Reef Road will always be an exclusive surf spot. The wave will always break in the backyards of some of Palm Beach's most impressive mansions, and parking will always be an anathema to the residents. Still, surfers do what it takes to stay wet. Whether willingly taking a ticket -- or taking the town to court. A fact they proved in 2009 when Surfrider and others won a landmark lawsuit against Palm Beach to stop a beach nourishment program in nearby Lake Worth. The message: rich homeowners may run the show on land, but surfers rule for the ocean. But the ultimate force is the Reef Road itself. And the Halloween Swell of 1991 bore witness to the fact that the wave can hold virtually any size swell. A handful of experienced locals charged the 15-foot sets while astounded grommets watched from the safety of the cabana roofs. Reef Road is the only wave in South Florida with this type of strength, and it should be treated with commensurate respect. -- Terry Gibson (updated, March 2010) Click here to find all the Reef Road photos and editorial on Surfline.
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