A couple months back, I got a phone call from a guy—let’s call him Mr. Muir—who runs a surfy nonprofit focused on environmental causes.
It’s an organization you’ve probably heard of, trying their damnedest to preserve great surf spots around the world from threats you had no idea even existed. “You want them on that wall; you need them on that wall,” as Jack Nicholson would say.
Mr. Muir was frustrated and looking for a little advice from someone embedded in surf media. He explained that most of the donations his organization receives for ocean-related causes come from people who have never set foot on a surfboard, and, inexplicably, getting hardcore surfers to care about protecting the ocean has proven to be extremely difficult. Mr. Muir wanted to know why.
I pondered his question for a minute, glanced out the window at my gas-guzzling pickup in the driveway, and felt the tiniest (very fleeting, I assure you) pang of guilt as a realization began to dawn on me. While I may not be the biggest eco-warrior out there, I do care deeply about the state of the oceans and often wring my hands in worry about ever-increasing threats to the environment, both in the ocean and on land. But my love of surfing somehow feels completely separate from any concerns I have about the state of the oceans. I could be in the middle of writing an article about horrid oceanic pollutants, but if my local cam looks good, I’d still rush out for a few waves, completely forgetting about whatever watery ecological disaster I’d been consumed with moments before. It’s as if my environmentalism and my life as a surfer are two entirely compartmentalized things, which seems contradictory for someone who gets their kicks in the great outdoors. But perhaps being a surfer doesn’t automatically make one an outdoorsperson, and that’s the key to understanding the cause of Mr. Muir’s frustration.
Esta historia es de la edición December 2016 de Surfer.
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Esta historia es de la edición December 2016 de Surfer.
Comience su prueba gratuita de Magzter GOLD de 7 días para acceder a miles de historias premium seleccionadas y a más de 9,000 revistas y periódicos.
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60 Years Ahead
We had a whole plan for this year. Funny, right? Surfer's 60 year anniversary volume was going to be filled with stories nodding to SURFER’s past, with cover concepts paying homage to the magazine’s most iconic imagery. Our new Page One depicts something that’s never happened in surfing before, let alone on a prior SURFER cover. And our table of contents was completely scrapped and replaced as we reacted to the fizzing, sparking, roiling world around us. In other words, 2020 happened to SURFER, just like it happened to you.
A Few Things We Got Horribly Wrong
You don’t make 60 years of magazines without dropping some balls. Here are a few
THE LGBTQ+ WAVE
Surf culture has a long history of marginalizing the LGBTQ+ community, but a new generation of queer surfers is working to change that
For Generations to Come
Rockaway’s Lou Harris is spreading the stoke to Black youth and leading surfers in paddling out for racial justice
Christina Koch, 41
Texas surfer, NASA astronaut, record holder for the longest continuous spaceflight by a woman
END TIMES FOR PRO SURFING
By the time the pandemic is done reshaping the world, will the World Tour still have a place in it?
CHANGING OF THE GUARD
After decades of exclusive access to Hollister Ranch, the most coveted stretch of California coast is finally going public
What They Don't Tell You
How does becoming a mother affect your surfing life?
Four Things to Make You Feel A Little Less Shitty About Everything
Helpful reminders for the quarantine era
The Art of Being Seen
How a group of black women are finding creative ways to make diversity in surfing more visible