Sunset Beach |
 The Largest Surfing EncyclopediaA-Z: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Advertisement
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Sunset will fool you. From the parking lot, just off the Kam Highway on Oahu's North Shore, it looks fun, like a big, fluffy right-hand point. Shoot through the shorebreak, stroke through the channel, wait for a set -- and crap your drawers as the entire Pacific Ocean rears up to unload on your head. At least, it looks that way.
"Challenging" is an understatement. Sunset Beach combines every facet of big-wave surfing -- late takeoffs, deep fades, committed bottom turns, big carves and gaping barrels. To link them all is the test, especially with so many other factors. Crowds, winds, freakish rip currents and a ferocious Inside Bowl make simply connecting a wave from start to finish a task. Photos and video don't show the real picture; it's easy to watch someone surf Sunset and wonder why they aren't killing it. What you can't see is the volume. Nothing has more impact on first-timers or is more difficult to express than the volume of a Sunset wave. The whole ocean seems to rise into each wave. It turns an otherwise impressive surfer into a struggling kook, even on today's modern equipment. Unlike some of the North Shore's more recent conquests, Sunset has been ridden through the ages. Its inviting channel and distance from the beach likely drew ancient Hawaiians out as early as 1200. As for recorded history, the earliest forays occurred during the early '30s -- a dicey proposition, given the equipment of the day. John Kelly, Wally and Gene Froiseth, Dougie Forbes and possibly others stroked their finless 70-pound planks into big west peaks and prayed they wouldn't slide ass. In 1943, Woody Brown and Dickie Cross paddled out during a huge, building swell, with darkness approaching. Unable to get back to the beach at Sunset, they headed for Waimea. Brown made it safely to the beach, but Cross was never seen again. Brown later collaborated with Froiseth and a young George Downing on developing the modern big-wave gun, a vehicle that would incite the only real performance shift in Sunset's history. Downing's thoughtful approaches to surfing and shaping were turning Sunset into a science. By the early '50s, Hawaiian big-wave footage was filtering into the states, and a pack of crazed California watermen answered the call. Greg Noll, Buzzy Trent, Bob Simmons, Pat Curren, Mickey Munoz and others adopted the North Shore lifestyle and pushed the limits on their still relatively crude equipment. Fins and foam had made things easier, but they were still essentially riding planks. By the '60s, Sunset found its master in Paul Strauch. His style and bravado made him the first hotdogger in waves of consequence, and inspired a host of future greats. The shortboard revolution soon split the lineup in two, as the old guard held fast to the belief that smaller, lighter boards were useless at a heavy-water wave such as Sunset. Competition also reared its head, beginning with the Duke Kahanamoku Classic in 1965. The event was won by a high schooler named Jeff Hakman, who, having defeated Strauch, gained instant immortality. He would go on to dominate into the next decade, with controlled power in any situation. The archetype had been set. Then came BK. Barry Kanaiaupuni raised Hakman's gambit with radical abandon. His go-for-broke approach was considered insanity for the day, as his powerful speed runs were a thing of beauty. While performances at most big-wave locations have seen quantum leaps over time, the standard at Sunset hasn't really changed since Hakman and BK. The wave simply won't allow it. But the lack of progression isn't from a lack of trying. Sunset saw its first real congestion in the Lightning Bolt '70s. Although the lineup is expansive enough to accommodate as many people as the Aloha Bowl, it cannot tolerate incompetence. Stray boards and frantic paddlers make it a dangerous, high-speed obstacle course. Of the visitors, Mark Richards, Shaun Tomson, Rabbit Bartholomew and especially Ian Cairns made names for themselves by tackling the haole stigma as well as the mondo peaks. Locally, Michael Ho and Bobby Owens got to know the tricky reef as well as anyone could. On the biggest days, fearless warriors such as Eddie Aikau, Ken Bradshaw and Darrick Doerner led the charge. In the pro-driven '80s, the Hawaiian Triple Crown, Pro Class Trials and Billabong Pro kept Sunset an annual proving ground for the world's best surfers. Simon Anderson's thruster design permeated the lineup, eroding the down-the-line mindset with a more pivotal approach. Joining the list of the elite were Derek Ho, Tom Carroll and Gary Elkerton, who each refined the lines of Hakman and BK to a razor's edge. Johnny-Boy Gomes was getting more radical than anyone, and four-time world champ Mark Richards emerged from retirement to claim Billabong Pro wins in perfect conditions in 1985 and 1986. Trends of the last decade have done little to foster progression at Sunset. The New School movement has no leg to stand on when it comes to a fat west peak, and tow surfing has drawn the big-wave elite to outer reefs on the biggest and best days. Despite the centripetal forces, the lineup is no less congested during the annual winter migration. Without a WCT event forcing the spotlight upon Sunset, it is once again a venue for hardcore surfers to test their mettle. And there is no better challenge anywhere. -- Jason Borte, August 2000 Click here to find all the Sunset Beach photos and editorial on Surfline.
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