The Discovery (and Death) of a Baja Secret Spot

In the early 2000s, Southern California chargers Rusty and Greg Long were lured south of the border, as they had been countless times before, but this time it thanks to tales of an untouched wave, a perfect, reeling righthander, and one that hiding in practically plain sight. Picture this: the Long bros’ father, Steve, hears about the wave from a seasoned lobster fisherman; he urges his sons to go to a smoke-filled tavern on a dark and dreary night; in a shadowy corner of the bar, a bearded mystery man sits and sips his lager; the boys approach nervously. Was this their man? Maybe they should bail.

“Pull up a chair, gents,” the bearded fisherman says, a glint in his eye, before the boys can leave.

Yeah, it went something like that.

With a hand-drawn map on their dash, the brothers drive over the border the following morning, a pulse of swell in the water, and some howling offshore winds to clean it all up. They drive down an unmarked dirt path, peer out over the shrubbery, and there it is – the secret of their dreams.

According to Save the Waves:

“Harry’s was discovered by San Clemente’s Greg and Rusty Long and Surfer Magazine photographer Jason Murray, who surfed the isolated big-wave spot in early 2003, but kept the location secret, fearing an influx of big-wave riders from nearby San Diego. The May 2003 issue of Surfer featured Harry’s on its cover.”

But Harry’s wasn’t long for this world.

The construction of a natural gas terminal in 2005 destroyed the wave for good. Save the Waves continued: “Just like that, after a few days of heavy equipment moving rocks, another world-class surf spot is gone. Sempra-Shell, defying an injunction that a Mexican judge had slapped on their LNG plant proposal, resumed construction on their hotly-contested facility and buried the surf spot within days. Wildcoast director Serge Dedina stumbled upon the wreckage in the first week of July, and witnessed the dump trucks as they covered Harry’s in an earthen grave.”

And with that, the secret died, too.

But it’s a fantasy like this one that keeps that flame alive, that lustful dream of finding flawless waves, untouched by other surfers, still hiding, waiting to be uncovered, out there in the world.

Rest in peace, Harry’s.