Rudy Ghiara: The Italian Soul of Big Wave Surfing

Varazze is home. It’s where I started, where I built my identity.

The surf scene here has always been core — raw and real. When I first got into it, there were only four or five people my age in the water.

But now, things are changing. More young people are picking up boards, and that gives me hope.

Still, with the growing crowd comes a loss of culture: lack of respect for the lineup, for the spot, for the ocean itself.

Many don’t know the rules, the history, the codes that make surf communities work.

Growing up a surfer in Italy is like wanting to be an astronaut with no sky. But I did it. I built an invisible trajectory, one that was mine alone. And now, even those who doubted are paddling with me.

This is why I wanted to do this interview — my first one about home — hoping the message will land: we need more surf education, more respect, more depth.

And we need to pass that on, especially in places like this.

The Wave at Home

My home break is an artificial reef that formed by accident — but when the swell hits just right, it turns into a hidden gem.

Perfect A-frames, both rights and lefts. Ideal for performance surfing: turns, barrels, and flow. It’s technical, not brutish — but when it turns on, it’s world-class.

Over the years, the swell consistency has dropped. But when it happens… it’s magic.

The Epic Swell

This one was special. I had just come back from a heavy session at Nazaré. Then, the charts lit up — and for once, they pointed to home.

A couple stormy days came first. Then it all lined up: 2.5 meters at 13–14 seconds, offshore winds, sunny skies. For Italy? That’s gold.

I woke up in the dark, and the waves were already thundering on the shore.

At first light I paddled out — and the session was insane: tubes, power turns, perfection. I surfed until noon, took a short break, then got back in until sunset.

Surfing at home, where it all began, after chasing bombs around the world… It’s priceless.

There are no crowds yelling at you, no pecking order politics. Just your rules, your ocean, your freedom.

The next couple of days, the swell dropped, but the sun stayed — and we wrapped it all up with nothing but smiles.

Waves I’ll Never Forget

There were a few waves from that swell that I’ll carry forever.

When you grow up in a place, you know every movement of the water. I was in perfect position when a set of around 8 feet rolled through.

I took off on a 5’9, made the drop, deep bottom turn, slight stall, then two fast backside barrel sections with a clean spit-out at the end.

A dream that came true.

Looking Ahead

When I started paddling into big waves, there was no real path to follow — at least not from Italy. The only ways that seemed possible required huge resources, complex logistics, or a life already built overseas.

But I wasn’t born in Hawaii. I didn’t have a jet ski or a team behind me. I was just a kid from the Mediterranean with a deep connection to the ocean and a vision that didn’t make sense to most people around me.

That’s why, for me, every wave I’ve surfed represents more than just a moment — it’s a message. A message that you don’t need to be born in the “right place” or have everything figured out. You can start from where you are, with what you have, and still find your way into the world’s heaviest lineups.

If my story has helped others believe that, then it’s all been worth it.

I wasn’t just chasing waves — I was chasing a life that didn’t exist yet, at least not where I was born.

And by building it from scratch, I proved that geography doesn’t define destiny.