Discovering and surfing a new wave remains one of the sport’s Holy Grails. After all, any known spot that’s ever been surfed had to be surfed first. Sometimes these origin stories are murky; disputed by various claims, and diluted by time. Others are clearer examples of adventure and discovery. In an ongoing series, we trace the origin stories of waves that have entered surfing folklore.
Bag Pipes, Scotland
As with a lot of the UK’s best discoveries, legendary Welsh and photographer Paul Gill was at the heart of it. The Gill had first traveled to Thurso in Scotland in the mid-70s when he was working at the Dounreay nuclear power plant. He is credited as the first to surf Thurso East, known as the cold water Nias. But he also found other spots, including a thick-lipped mutant folding over onto dry reef. “It looked like Pipeline, but on rock, with no beach and no lifeguards to save you, I thought there’s no way it’ll ever get surfed,” he told
Wavelength magazine
And for three decades, it remained unchanged.
In 2006, when a British Pro Tour event came to town, Gill chose to introduce Newquay surfer Paul Mullins and his protégé Oli Adams to a wave he thought might be rideable. Adams remained skeptical, but Mullins seemed more open to the idea. As described by Gill to Wavelength, Mullins “was bouncing about like a toddler who has just spotted their mom’s breast.”
Russ had just demonstrated that it could be done with his first attempt, so we were all in,” Adams explained. “Back then, slab surfing hadn’t truly taken off yet. However, after witnessing that initial session, things completely shifted for me. It became clear to me that there must be additional waves of similar caliber—or even superior—in the UK.”
Regarding the naming convention, it’s largely attributed to a local resident called Ross Kemp, who observed that inaugural surf session. Adding ‘Pipe’ seemed natural enough, but he also incorporated ‘Bagpipe’ as an homage to Scotland’s traditional musical instruments; this combination quickly solidified itself among enthusiasts.
Padang, Bali
“It was 1974 and we’d been out that morning at massive Outside Corner,” legendary shaper Peter “Grub” McCabe told . “That was the day they’d filmed Rabbit for the Ulu section in
Tubular Swells
. Anyway, the tide came in, and so we walked down through the cave and along the cliff to check the next wave.”
McCabe didn’t surf Padang that afternoon but returned the next morning with mates Steve Hamilton and Steve Agnew. “The swell had dropped and wasn’t even that big. But we paddled out and knew it was such a special wave,” said Grub. “I didn’t catch the first one, but we had a mate who was taking photos and I got the first image, so I’ll claim it.” For McCabe, who would pioneer many of Indo’s best waves, including G-Land, that first surf at Padang would be pivotal. “I lived for that joint from that day onwards. I went back in ’75 and ’76, and spent three months in Bali, surfing it with just a few friends every time it was six foot. And I did that for the next 20 years.”
Related: Unveiling (and Losing) a Hidden Gem in Baja
P-Pass, Caroline Island
Although some U.S. soldiers stationed in Guam might have caught waves in Pohnpei during the 1960s, the earliest known person to visit these islands under this name was Mort McIntosh. He spent about three weeks surfing here back in 1971. Nonetheless, credit goes to Alan Hamilton—a mariner, professional angler, and owner of a piece at Hollister Ranch—for becoming the pioneer surfer of what’s called P-Pass. Around the latter part of the ’80s in Santa Barbara, he employed a man from Pohnpei as a crew member named Danny. Inspired by tales of local swells and coral formations shared by Danny, Hamilton embarked on an expedition to Pohnpei equipped with two surfboards in 1991.
“I found a map of Pohnpei and noticed Palikir Pass marked on it,” Hamilton said to Michael Kew in his insightful conversation.
Dispatches series
On the wave, “It seemed like a great opportunity for surfing,” he recalled. He told Danny, ‘Take me out to this channel.’ When we got there, it turned out to be an incredible wave.” Hamilton remained for two months before returning to Santa Barbara, where he sold all of his possessions and relocated to Pohnpei. In 1994, while attempting to ride the wave solo, he nearly had his left hand and forearm torn off by an eight-foot-long bull shark.
Chicama, Peru
During the 1960s, the most effective way to find exceptional surfing spots was often just glancing out the window of an aircraft. This rudimentary version of Google Earth worked because spotting consistent break points from high above usually indicated quality waves below. In 1966, this approach led Chuck Shipman to discover one such location over Peru. Initially visiting Peru for the 1965 World Surfing Championships, Shipman extended his stay beyond a year engaging in various activities like repairing surfboards and exploring. During his return journey to Hawaii via Lima, he observed through the plane window well-defined swells breaking onto the coastal beaches at Chicama. Recognizing the significance of his observation, instead of keeping it secret, Shipman promptly informed fellow enthusiasts in Lima about his finding. Months afterward, in September, prominent local surfers—Carlos Barreda, Oscar Malpartida, and Ivo Hunza among them—took a four-hundred-mile trip northward specifically to ride these legendary breaks known globally as some of the longest waves ever recorded. Despite playing a pivotal role in uncovering this site, Shipman himself never actually rode those particular waves.
Connected: Lance’s Discovery: The Wild Tale Behind One of the Planet’s Most Incredible Surf Finds
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