Locals Only: Surf Spots Where You Are Least Likely To Get A Wave

Mundaka has one of its best winter seasons in years. The river mouth has been one of the few European spots that have handled the endless swell and storms that have pummelled Europe since before Christmas. You’ve probably seen the footage, but that’s about as close as you’ll get to snavelling a set on the Peak. Like a deep-water harbour in medieval times, the wave is well fortified. A wave that only breaks properly for two hours on either side of high tide, a small takeoff zone that is small enough to only nourish a pack of 20 surfers, and a crowd of  hyper-talented, generally fearless and fiercely proud Basque pack of tubemongers who live for the wave. Violence is rare, though; it isn’t required.

Tamarin Bay, Mauritius

Localism on the island off East Africa has been effectively enforced here by the ironically and unimaginatively named “White Shorts.” The wave had been immortalised in the 70s flick, “The Lost Island Of Santosha,” and it is perhaps unsurprising the “locals” (let's call them French expats) are territorial. It is both world-class, crowded and fickle, three parameters that often necessitate overzealous protection. The locals made headlines in 2017, when a tourist videoed an altercation with one of the heavies called Bruno. Has it mellowed since then? Maybe. Can you paddle to “The Reef,” wait your turn, and get a set? Hell no.

El Quemao, Lanzarote

El Quamao’s description in the Europe Stormrider Guide, written in the late 1980s, doesn’t really need much updating. “When it’s on, it’s packed with the best of the island’s stand-up surfers and bodyboarders, and a Coliseum atmosphere pervades,” it said. “One of the most photographed spots in the Canaries, but also one of the most localised.” The hard-charging and talented locals do share their waves, but it takes years of dedication and beat downs to establish your credentials. Otherwise, it's basically off-limits on the best days, leaving visitors to content themselves with the 30-odd reefbreaks in the nearby vicinity. At least it’s more hospitable than the neighbouring island of Gran Canaria, which remains a complete no-go zone.

Molhe Leste, Portugal

The righthand wedge in Peniche gets global prominence once every five years, when the WSL is forced to move the CT event from the open beachbreak of Supertubos, to the more protected corner half a mile to the north. Now, Supertubes isn’t exactly a free love, all welcome type of wave, but its sporadic, peaky nature at least opens windows of opportunity. Molhe Leste, however, has a take-off zone the size of a manhole cover, and is usually protected by a talented cast of bodyboarders and surfers who make it pretty clear who is, and who isn’t, invited. And a tip, if you don’t live there, there’ll be no need to RSVP.

Jakes Point, Kalbarri, Western Australia

Like a moated castle in the Scottish Highlands, or a Hollywood Nightclub, Jakes Point is seemingly designed to keep foreign invaders from breaching its significant defences. The isolated left breaks best in winter, with locals having to endure hot, thirsty and waveless summers and springs before it bursts into life. The only semi-safe entry point into the growing, gurgling slab is at the very tip of the point. Getting a wave involved crashing the blanket-sized takeoff area, in which talented, hard-charging surfers, crayfishermen, mine workers, lunatics, psychopaths and solar panel installers are having a picnic. Every now and again, then they’ll toss you a crumb; usually a six foot closeout. You'd best eat it.

Topanga, California

It takes a special environment to knock perennial Cali contenders at Lunada Bay and Silver Strand, but to their credit, the Topanga guys have been giving it a crack. “The mix of super aggro dudes combined with being the easiest/closest wave for a big chunk of LA's surfer population, makes this a unique mix of unpleasantness,” was one Reddit review. Local radio station KCRW reported that while aggression has been present at Topanga, since the 1970s, it’s only gotten worse with the post-COVID surf boom, giving it the Topangry nickname.  A surf at the rather average righthander, usually starts with a quick assessment by sentries (the criteria have never been published) at the top of the stairs, and deteriorates from there. As one witness said, “I was fully chewed out by a Topangry 12-year-old girl, and fully got bullied into submission as a 34-year-old man who’s surfed here most of my life.’’ Whattya got, Bay Boys?

Westside, Oahu

To be fair, the north and south sides of Oahu have a fairly well-established hierarchy that has been held up as the poster boys for localism since the 1970s. But when the heavies of the North Shore hesitate before surfing this stretch, you know just how held down this coast is. The spiritual home might be 47 Bravo, the famed lifeguard tower, beating heart and HQ at Makaha. The Westside has produced some of the most respected, toughest and talented surfers in history (Rell Sunn, The Keaulanas, Sunny Garcia and George Downing to name a few), but if you ever want to go for a Third Dip of the day, this ain’t the place.