Elevens

Little did my dad know back in 1997 that helping me buy my first bodyboard, a Morey Mach 5, would end up shaping the course of my life.

Because, as we all know, the Mediterranean might sound like an exotic place to surf, but people don’t always realise the potential hidden in this sleeping sea. A sea that can bring you so much joy when it wakes up, but just as many disappointments when it decides to stay asleep.

Words by Nacho Serrano
Images by @maci_vanlife (portrait) & @elevatorbeat (action)

My passion for the sport, combined with living on the western Mediterranean coast during the years before surfing went global, gave me the chance to become something of a little explorer. I was lucky enough to be the first to surf and name waves that had never been ridden before.

I always figured that if there were slabs being surfed around the world, why shouldn’t there be some in my own backyard?

That’s how I ended up finding this wave.

But it took exactly eleven years before I finally decided to surf it for the first time. Eleven years of patience, watching, and countless hours figuring out where to paddle in, where to get out, what risks to take and which ones to avoid.

And after coming back from a nearly two-year surf trip around the world, I got home and decided that the next proper swell would be the time to give it a go.

And yes, everything I had imagined about it was true: current, no landmarks on land, wonky sets unloading on your head, half the reef exposed, steps… Every wave is different, making it incredibly difficult to find a proper take-off spot.

Since then, I’ve surfed this wave alone countless times and, every now and then, managed to share a session with a friend.

It only breaks a handful of times. It can stay asleep for years, and you never know when it’s going to be the first — or the last — chance you get to surf it that Winter.

And that brings us to the last time it woke up, last Winter. It wasn’t a pretty day. And it definitely wasn’t easy.

I got home the night before after spending Christmas in Central Europe. I hadn’t surfed for three weeks, I was sick and running a fever, exhausted, had barely slept four hours and was still buzzing about what the forecast was showing.

It was time to hit the road.

This time, I was lucky enough to have two friends decide to come along. When we got there, we bumped into another couple of friends who, seeing what was going down, decided to join us at the last minute.

The ocean was bigger than we expected, and a lot of the sets were breaking before they even reached the reef. It was a seriously tricky session. The conditions weren’t what we had expected, and finding a good line into the wave became a challenge in itself.

But little by little, we found the spot and started picking off some incredible waves.

There was still plenty of rip and the sets weren’t giving us many options, but we slowly figured out where to sit and how to make the most of the ones that came through.

After so many years surfing this wave almost always alone, being able to experience a session like that was something special. All those hours watching it, all those sessions and all the time I’d put into that wave were finally paying off.

Little did I know that this would be the last session I would ever have without knowing what was about to happen. I had no idea that I wouldn’t get the chance to share it with the person who, without even knowing it, had made this whole story possible.

My dad never surfed, but he was a lifelong lover of the ocean. He was the one who, back in 1997, bought me my first bodyboard and, without even realising it, opened the door to a world that would end up shaping my life.

The following morning, he passed away unexpectedly.

Ever since, that day and that session have meant something completely different to me. They will always be a memory, and in a way, a tribute to the person who made all of this possible and who, without ever knowing it, shaped my life into what it is today: travelling the world chasing waves and living a passion that started with that first bodyboard almost thirty years ago.

And of course, a huge thank you to my family and to all the friends who have been part of this journey over the years — those who were there along the way, and especially those who are still by my side, sharing sessions, trips and waves.

A big thank you to my sponsors, @surfkitecamp_cz and @neverenoughcz, for continuing to support this way of life and for being part of the journey.