Yet, the most daring of big wave surfers head out to the Bank for one simple reason: it is home to the biggest rideable wave on the face of the Earth; a swell of massive proportions that
Trang 1ghost
wave
The discovery of Cortes Bank and the biggest wave
on Earth
C H R I S D I X O N
A hundred miles off the California coastline,
a fabled peak rises from the depths of the North Pacific, stopping just fifteen feet short of the ocean’s surface Legends and grave warnings surround this submerged mountain, known as Cortes Bank—rumors of lost ships, spinning compasses, of bus-size sharks and man-size lobsters Yet, the most daring of big wave surfers head out to the Bank for one simple reason: it is home to the biggest rideable wave on the face of the Earth; a swell of massive proportions that surges in from out of nowhere like a monster
In this meticulously researched, salt-crusted adventure tale, journalist Chris Dixon hits the high seas to bring the secrets of Cortes Bank to the surface, drawing readers into the harrowing world of the most enigmatic rock in the sea and the tremendously dangerous big wave surfing that occurs above it He recounts stories from Greg Long, Brad Gerlach, Mike Parsons, and a cadre of divers, explorers, sailors, nation builders, and lunatics who have all tried their luck at Cortes Bank and barely lived to tell
of their encounters This astounding true story of the Everest of the sea will captivate anyone with a curiosity about, and respect for, the vast and unknowable ocean
THE TRUE STORY OF THE BIGGEST WAVE ON EARTH AND THE MEN WHO CONQUERED IT.
“ Ghost Wave takes us to a place of almost mythic power and tells a story that unfolds like a long ride
on a killer wave I can’t imagine doing what those surfers are doing out there on Cortes Bank—and
I can’t imagine a finer book about them This is a beautifully researched and compellingly written book I read it straight through from the first page Terrifying.”
—SEBASTIAN JUNGER, author of The Perfect Storm
“ A terrific, deeply researched tale about a truly wild place You couldn’t make up Cortes Bank or the characters who’ve tried to make it theirs Chris Dixon takes us out there He gets us amongst it.”
—WILLIAM FINNEGAN, author of Cold New World
“ Mystery shrouded, invisible from shore, riddled with hazards real and imagined, the Cortes Bank is a
sort of Rubicon Only a handful of surfers have crossed to the other side In Ghost Wave, Chris Dixon
traces the Bank’s maritime history, the fanciful civilization of Abalonia, and the absolute madmen who chase shifting peaks in the open ocean.”
—SCOTT HULET, editor, The Surfer’s Journal
“ Ghost Wave is a first-rate account of an amazing phenomenon and the people who tried to conquer
and exploit it A great read.”
—WINSTON GROOM, author of Forrest Gump
“ After reading Chris’s most excellent account of the monstrous waves of the mysterious Cortes Bank—
the Bermuda Triangle of the Pacific—I never thought I would ever consider riding a wave like this
But after surviving a five-foot, headfirst fall from the stage earlier this year, I think I might be ready.”
—JIMMY BUFFETT
Chris Dixon’s work has appeared in the New
York Times, the New York Times Magazine, Outside,
Men’s Journal, Surfer, and the Surfer’s Journal He lives
in Charleston, South Carolina
Front cover: Grant “Twiggy” Baker on the biggest day
ever documented anywhere Cortes Bank, January 5, 2008
Photo: Robert Brown
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Trang 2gh os t
wa ve
Trang 4GHOST WAVE
T H E D I S C OV E RY
O F
C O RT E S BA N K
A N D T H E B I G G E S T
WAV E
O N E A RT H
BY CHRIS DIXON
Trang 5Text copyright © 2011 by Chris Dixon
All rights reserved No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher.
Dixon, Chris,
Ghost wave : the discovery of Cortes bank and the biggest wave on earth / by Chris Dixon.
p cm.
Includes bibliographical references.
ISBN 978-0-8118-7628-5
1 Surfing California 2 Surfing Pacific Area 3 Ocean California 4 Ocean waves Pacific Area I Title
GV839.65.C2D59 2011
797.3209794 dc22
2011020302
Manufactured in the United States
Designed by Jacob T Gardner
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Chronicle Books LLC
680 Second Street
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www.chroniclebooks.com
Trang 6C O N T E N T S
Acknowledgments 6
CHAPTER 1:
The Ghost Wave 8
CHAPTER 2:
Once Upon an Island 19
CHAPTER 3:
Pawns to Bishop Rock 29
CHAPTER 4:
The Kings of Abalonia 57
CHAPTER 5:
Rogue Waves 77
CHAPTER 6:
Making the Call 90
CHAPTER 7:
At Arm’s Length 99
CHAPTER 8:
The Prisoners 121
CHAPTER 9:
On the Shoulders of Giants 147
CHAPTER 10:
Mutiny on the Bounty 170
CHAPTER 11:
Trifling with the Almighty 200
Afterword 233
Endnotes 243
Trang 7This book would not have been possible without the work, time, support, hospitality, and/or inspiration of the following people:
Will Allison, Grant “Twiggy” Baker, Rex Bank, Steve Barilotti, Rob Bender, George Beronius, Warren Blier, Daniel Martin Bresler, John Broder, Bruce Brown, Dana Brown, Rob Brown, Jimmy Buffett, Jeff Campbell, Steve Casimiro, Mike Castillo, Alfy Cater, Jeff Clark, Gary Clisby, Annouschka Collins, Josh Collins, Ken “Skindog” Collins, Sean Collins, Charles Coxe, Chris Crolley, Pat and Mary Curren, Don Curry, Jake Davi, Brett Davis, James Deckard, Jeff Divine, Jean Louise Dixon, Quinn Deckard Dixon, Richard Jobie Dixon, Watts Dixon, Shane Dorian, Dorothea Benton Frank, Lawrence Downes, Harrison Ealey, Grant Ellis, Dr John English, William Finnegan, Nick Fox, Arthur “Mitch” Fraas, Matt George, Sam George, Brad Gerlach, Joe Gerlach, Dr Gary Greene, Nancy Whitemarsh Gregos, Angie Gregos-Swaroop, Greg Grivetto, Nicole Gull, Jeff Hall, Laird Hamilton, Christine Hanley, Neil Hanson, Ellis T Hardy, Christopher Havern, Steve Hawk, Mark Healey, Marty Hoffman, Philip “Flippy” Hoffman, Scott Hulet, George Hulse, Paul Hutton, Tom Jolly, Sebastian Junger, Dave Kalama, Ilima Kalama, Brian Keaulana, Buffalo Keaulana, Momi Keaulana, James Allen Knechtman, Eric Kozen, Dr Rikk Kvitek, Randy Laine, Larry Kirshbaum, Steve Lawson, Adm Robert J Leuschner Jr., Brett Lickle, Kenneth Lifshitz, Brock Little, Greg Long, Rusty Long, Steve Long, Kate Lovemore, Gena and John Lovett, Leanne Lusk, Dr Terry Maas, Don Mackay, Hugh MacRae Jr., Hugh MacRae Sr., Nick Madigan, Sarah Malarkey, Ben Marcus, Chris Mauro, Lucia McLeod, Garrett McNamara, Clement Meighan, Capt Scott Meisel, Peter Mel, Tara Mel, Candace Moore, Larry “Flame” Moore, Dr Walter Munk, Mickey Muñoz, Jason Murray, Ramon Navarro, Greg Noll, Laura Noll, Jeff Novak, Collin O’Neill, Dr Bill O’Reilly, Dave Parmenter, Rebecca Parmer, Bob Parsons, Mike Parsons, Tara Parsons, Joel Patterson, Nate Perez, Steve Pezman, Judith Porcasi, Paul Porcasi, Jodi Pritchart, Mike Ramos, Rush Randle, Louis Ribeiro, Charles and Victoria Ricks, Anthony Ruffo, Roy Salis, Marcus Saunders, Bill “Dr Evil” Sharp, Evan Slater, Kelly Slater, John Slider, Shari Smiley, Sunshine Smith, Kelly Sorensen, Jason
Stallman, Capt Steve Stampley, Jamie Sterling, Jean Stroman, Gloria Ricks Taylor thanks mom!!!,
Kimball Taylor, Roy Taylor, Beverly Tetterton, Albert “Skip” Theberge, Brendon Thomas, James Thompson, Megan Thompson, Randy Thompson, Michele Titus, Matt Walker, Philip L Walker, Les Walker, John Walla, Matt Warshaw, Grant Washburn, Frances “Taffy” Wells, Gerry Wheaton, James Whitemarsh, Brad Wieners, Malcolm Gault-Williams, Ben Wolfe, Matt Wybenga, Andrew Yatsko, Dr Marvin Zuckerman
I would also like to thank:
My grandparents, for teaching me the value of a fine southern family and a damn good story.
My parents, for teaching me the difference between making a life and making a living
Quinn, for teaching me the meaning of love.
Fritz and Lucy, for teaching me the meaning of life
My sincere apologies to anyone I might have left out
Trang 8When foolhardiness would urge me to go and peep into some yawning chasm, my conscience would appear to say to
me, “Stop! You are trifling with the Almighty!”
—A description of the first view of the caldera of Mount Kilauea, Hilo, Hawaii, September 1847, by Lieutenant Archibald MacRae, United States Navy
(September 21, 1820–November 17, 1855)
Trang 9In the predawn hours of a dead-still December morning in 1990, a Black Watch sportfisher, its deck loaded with provisions, thick wetsuits, and big wave surf-boards, motored out of Newport Harbor in Newport Beach, just south of Los Angeles
Clearing the lights at the end of the harbor’s long rock jetty, the skipper gave the boat’s twin Yanmars their first big huff of diesel and crackling dry Santa Ana air He then pointed the bow toward an empty spot, a big blank patch of ocean a hundred miles offshore where a ghost wave was said to appear, a wave of massive proportions that came out of nowhere, rose like a monster, and then slid back into the depths without a sign of its passing According to legend, several vessels had met disaster here and now lay on the bottom, and the few mariners who had been out there told the surfers they were crazy Along their intended route, compasses were known to spin in random directions It was a place where the impossible was postulated to be an occasional nightmare reality—a breaking wave 100 feet high They were headed for the Cortes Bank
In addition to the captain, the boat contained four passengers: Surfing
magazine editors Bill Sharp, Sam George, and Larry “Flame” Moore, along with a California pro surfer named George Hulse Sharp, George, and Hulse were experienced big wave surfers, but in 1990, the world of monster swells was
a far smaller and more mysterious place than it is today The crucible of their sport still lay on Oahu at thundering tropical waves like Pipeline, Makaha, and Waimea Bay, and a relatively small group possessed the knowledge, skill, and guts to challenge them Swell forecasting was still in its infancy; spots like Maverick’s, Jaws, and Teahupoo lay far off the radar Only recently, these
Chapter 1:
T H E
G H O S T WAV E
It was the only time I ever wrote out a will before a surf trip
—Bill Sharp
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three surfers had tested themselves on the first bona fide big wave find on the North American mainland—an icy, kelp-ringed giant off northern Baja’s Todos Santos Island, appropriately named Killers No one aboard had ever considered tying a water-ski rope to the stern of a Jet Ski and slingshotting a life-jacketed surfer onto a big wave —the pursuit today known as towsurfing If you wanted
to catch a big wave in 1990, you had to paddle like hell, pray, and never forget that if something went wrong, you were all alone
Indeed, the surfers had gone to great lengths to ensure they were alone This exploratory encounter with what they believed to be an unsurfed leviathan was the culmination of several years of painstaking, almost pathologically secretive detective work
In December 1985, illuminated by the neon glow of a photographer’s light
table, Larry Moore pointed a freckled finger at page L4 of the Chart Guide to
Southern California “What about this spot? There’s gotta be waves out there.”
Beside him stood Sam George and Bill Sharp, the newly minted young
edi-tors of Surfing magazine They had been scouring the nooks and crannies on the
map, looking for places where they might find surf
If there was one thing that George and Sharp had come to realize, it was that Flame was obsessive about everything he did You didn’t get a grain of sand
in his Ford pickup You didn’t miss a 4 a.m roll call for a photo shoot You didn’t
mess with any element atop his photo desk And you sure as hell didn’t talk
about surf spots you were scouting out That was the great privilege and mad-dening frustration of the job Larry possessed an obsessive need to know about
the waves that broke along the Pacific Coast and to be the first to document
them Inclusion among his tight circle of explorers made you a very fortunate person, but you had to keep your mouth shut until Flame was ready to reveal a discovery—which might be never
Flame was a fairly seasoned sailor He had pored over his chart guides, study-ing coast and bathymetry from Vancouver Island to Cabo San Lucas The same set of features that might sink a ship could also indicate a hidden wave Lately,
he had set his sights toward Todos Santos and San Clemente Island and now this weird shoal called Cortes Bank He saw danger and opportunity In fact, a mere
month earlier, the Los Angeles Times had carried a story about the aircraft carrier USS Enterprise actually colliding with an unnamed reef “100 miles off San Diego.”
What other reef could it possibly be?
“Here’s what it says,” Flame read to Sharp and George “Cortes Bank is about twenty-five miles long west-northwest to east-southeast by seven miles wide, with Bishop Rock awash and buoyed The rock was struck by the clipper
Trang 1110
Bishop in 1855 and is the farthest-outlying coastal danger Nontidal currents
of one to two knots cause much swell and moderate sea often breaks over the
rock A wreck near the rock is covered by only three feet The bottom from five
miles west-northwest to two and a half miles east-southeast is broken with hard white sand, broken shell, and fine coral Anchorage is reported impractical due
to swell, breakers, and lost anchors.”
Sharp’s blue eyes traced the tight contour lines In addition to Bishop Rock, other shoal spots lay on Cortes Bank, one only nine fathoms deep Another nine-fathom bank called Tanner lay just to the northeast A few miles out, the ocean plunged to a thousand fathoms, or six thousand feet “Good lord,” Sharp said to Flame “Three feet deep?”
Flame’s first enquiry about Cortes Bank was with Philip “Flippy” Hoffman,
a gruff old diver and local textile magnate Hoffman had been among the very first Californians to challenge the giant, empty waves along the North Shore of Oahu in the early 1950s, and in 1973, he became one of the very first to surf Kaena Point, a frightful open-ocean wave off Oahu’s easternmost edge
Hoff-man moored his boat in Dana Point next to Flame’s cherished Candace Marie,
and he was as hard-core a waterman as you could ever hope to meet
“I used to dive the Bank with the abalone fleet back in the 1950s, and I told Larry it had big wave potential,” Hoffman said, his strong, old voice sounding as
if it had been run through a fan
“We’d go out there mostly in the fall That’s the nicest time of year for weather I never saw it break all that big, and I never surfed out there because the currents are horrible and you couldn’t stay in the lineup.”
Diving was an isolated, dangerous business Even with no breaking waves, the entire Bank was subject to tremendous, swirling surges of swell that could push or pull you sideways, or up and down in the water column, far faster than you might equalize the pressure in your ears There were abalone the size of Bibles, lobsters the size of men, and sharks the size of busses Were you swept from your boat, a current that suddenly rose to two or even four knots could make return utterly impossible
Hoffman recalled being able to see the top of Bishop Rock, a pinnacle of hard volcanic basalt, in the trough of waves on a very low tide “We went, maybe, four or five times from 1951 to 1958, just commercial fishing for abalone,” Hoff-man said “The water could be very clear or dirty with plankton, and the fishing was just not quite as good as we thought it would be It was a very rough place
to try to sleep at night Cups and plates would fly across the galley I knew some-times it must get really big out there.”
Hoffman also told Flame that at least one diver—a famous Hawaiian big wave surfer named Ilima Kalama—had very nearly died out there