Surfing in Interesting Climes: Strange

C oney Island, Hurricane Floyd, Sept '99

Coney rides stand dormant in late summer.

Sometimes there is a reason for searching for small surf. One reason might be to escape big surf. You go looking for a protected bay to get some waves when all the usual breaks are mackin' out of control.

Another reason is to find surf where usually none exists. This was my reason for going to Coney Island. Coney Island breaks very rarely, and I really wanted to ride it. Essentially, Coney only breaks when every other surf spot on south Long Island is absolutely huge. I'd read reports from guys who'd surfed it. Barney surfed it on a big Noreaster and found closed out waves and filthy water. Kevin O surfed it and scored waist high waves when Rockaway was totally blown out.

I waited for a day when there was a good swell, guaranteed to get all the way into the mouth of New York Harbor, where Coney Island lies protected by Sandy Hook to the south and the Rockaways to the northeast.

During Hurricane Floyd, on September 15, 1999, I decided the conditions might be right. I looked at the buoy reports. 14 second period and eight to ten or so feet. That might be enough. I expected to find waist high waves and with the calm winds accompanying a drizzly day, they would be very clean.

On the train I was as nervous as if I were going on a trip to Spain. It seemed so foreign. Actually Spain was more familiar. I've been there three times. I had never been to Coney Island. Brighton Beach once. I was more worried about leaving my stuff on a strange beach than anything. Although if you've left your stuff on Rockaway Beach I guess you can leave it anywhere.

My mother used to tell me about Coney Island and the Cyclone roller coaster. It seemed perfectly fitting to go out there and pass by the classic coaster and enjoy some roller coaster surf rides in front of it. I planned to get some pictures, some waves, and maybe a hot dog. The more I thought about it, the more I thought I might take one look at the surf and go visit the aquarium.

The train was very scenic. We rode over the East River and I took a picture of the view from the bridge. Got some garbled news over the loudspeaker. Uh oh. So often garbled announcements on the subway are a portent of doom. This time it was good. The train conductor announced we were skipping some stops. It was to be virtually an express to the last stop. Surfari, so good, the idiot surf-vant sped on to Coney.

Crossing the East River toward Coney surf.

I arrived at 2:00 pm. The train ride was twenty minutes at the most, shattering all train ride duration records to any beach. If only this place broke, it would be great because the train ride to the other spots can be long and involve many changes. At the train entrance I walked past brown wood and hand painted signs, which looked like they'd been there as long as the subway. I passed the Cyclone coaster on the way to the boardwalk, a space needle type thing, some clown colored ferris wheels and other rides, and some ancient junk food stands. The boardwalk was made of old hardwood two by four slats, real classic construction.

I later learned the space needle thing was the Parachute drop, and I've heard at least five explanations and theories as to how the ride actually worked. Apparently you hang from a parachute way up high, and depending on who tells you, you either float down to the ground or stay stuck up there, going around in circles.

I put on my hat to keep the drizzle off me and walked out to the pier down a ways from Stillwell. Winds offshore, very small and clean waves. A few people strolling in the warm showery rain. I thought to myself "man, this place must usually be a lake because at Rock it's possibly overhead right now and here it's tiny." I knew with my ten foot board it was still rideable though.

The Coney Island pier.

After the pier I walked out to the end of the boardwalk and checked out Norton's Point where I figured it would be most exposed to the open ocean. Nada. Tiny waves breaking on steep beaches. Fishermen made the nearby jetty look unappetizing. So I headed back toward the space needle and the pier.

Looking out toward Norton's Point.

At this point I saw what I had come for. Deserted beach, oddly humorous scenery, and placid ocean with a hint of waves. The water and tide line seemed surprisingly clear, not like Barney's description of detritus, scum, and discarded personal hygiene and makeup items.

Walking back toward the amusement park.

I kept walking, scoped a couple of possible spots to surf, but there was something wrong with all of them. No sand bars, just breaking right on the beach. I could see that without the daily wave action no sand bar was likely to be built up anywhere. After I passed the pier as the jetties started the waves built a little. I saw a couple swimming in some waves and that looked like the spot. Fittingly enough, it was right in front of the Cyclone, at the 2nd street jetty.

Tiny clean swell proves that Coney breaks.

There was a gently sloping beach, but still the wave was no better than an ankle high shorebreak. A bit of swell bulged against the green and black jetty riprap rocks as waves rolled in. The amazing thing was that for such small waves they were spaced way apart. Usually little waves you see at Rockaway are local wind waves and break one right after another. These were real ground swell. I had to think that Rockaway would be just about perfect right then. I was feeling kinda silly. But such is adventure, you gain a new setting but miss the fun at home.

I suited up and paddled out, and was amazed by the calm. A hard series of strokes was all it took to beat a wave to the beach. The placid surface gave paddling the effort of sledding down a snowy hill. I covered the length of the jetty in seconds. Rain sprung up all around, so when some small fish jumped, they seemed like large rain drops. The water had a smell, perhaps the red tide, perhaps normal Coney surf odor. Tiny waves pushed me no faster than hard paddling, then suddenly walled up and blocked any attempt to kick out.

It was all I could do to get up on my board and try not to get totally beached. After a while I tried paddling real hard out to sea and got up a lot of speed on the smooth water, got up fine without a wave and layed into a drop knee turn. Pushed the tail down as hard as I could which threw up a nice spraying wake, then as the board slowed down I flopped back down on it.

That was it, some paddling excercise and miniature surf in front of that jumble of roller coasters and ferris wheels, with the giant space needle looking like an Eifel Tower with a flying saucer impaled on it.

At about 5:00 I'd had enough and the rain was picking up, so I headed back to the the aquarium stop to catch the F train home. I passed in front of the sign for the Cyclone and thought about coming back next summer to give it a ride.