Hainan Surf Blog

Woke up to surf early this morning to the disappointment of seeing heavy winds blowing through the tops of the palm trees on the street below.  I could see the whole bay in Dadonghai was heavily textured, and whitecaps were appearing as far as I could see.  Still, the unmistakable presence of whitewater crashing up against the reef in front of the Mandarin Oriental gave me hope that our anticipated surf had arrived as promised by the past days' forecasts.

By the time Brendan and I saddled up the truck with our surfboards and were on our way up the East coast of Sanya it was about noon; light rain was falling and the winds were still persistent.  After we'd driven only a few miles out of town TJ called and reported the devastating news that our little secret spot was completely flat.

"Impossible." I muttered, knowing that TJ surely wasn't joking and had no other reason to mislead us.  Unfortunately, denial doesn't relinquish surfable waves, and it seemed that the window of swell promised to us by Typhoon Hagupit had passed swiftly in the night.  We pulled out the map and considered hauling all the way up to the North-east tip of Hainan where the coast might still be exposed to the passing weather, but with heavy wind and the prospect of getting completely skunked, we decided to turn back and see what D-hai could offer in terms of surf.

When we pulled into the parking lot at Dadonghai, we were surprised to see that the waves seemed to be marching in from the west, rather than from the east as we'd expected.  It certainly explained why our East coast spots were flat, and we had the idea to go check the next bay over in Shao-Donghai to see if there were any options for surfing out there.

We drove over the hill, and were equally disappointed again to see the entire bay blown flat, with a super-low tide exposing all the reefs.  In disbelief, we resolved ourselves to the fact that despite an indication of heavy swell, there were no lineups that possessed the combination of sheltering us from the wind and facing the right direction to catch the swell.  As we drove back up the hill to return home, I was still shaking my head at our bad fortune.  On a whim, we pulled into the parking lot overlooking the Luhuitou peninsula to survey the layout.

Curiously, the waves in Sanya Bay seemed to be breaking in places we'd never considered surfing before, and a particular lump of rocks that was sticking out of the water seemed to be catching a bit of constant swell.  With nothing else to lose, we figured we'd check it out, and upon closer inspection, decided it would be better than just going home empty handed.  We drove down the spot, changed into our gear, and walked out a little landbridge to our newly discovered surf spot.

As we approached the connecting land, we saw what appeared to be steady surf on the other side of this small islet, with waves breaking in the 5-6 foot range with a decent windguard provided by the islet.  An outcropping of rocks about 100 meters off the shore marked the end of the takeoff zone, with left breaking off the islet into Sanya Bay, and rights breaking off the outcropping and wrapping around the backside of the islet.

As we walked out, the nearly unbearably sharp rocks bit into our booties and served as a subtle reminder of the fact that we were embarking on a surf session in unfamiliar waters where likely no one had ever surfed before (did I mention the water was murky brown with zero visibility?).  Anyway, we launched ourselves into this secluded stretch of water, and once we were in the takeoff zone, began scratching into our first solid waves in weeks.

With choppy storm surf and a heavy current pushing against us each time we paddled back out after taking a wave, we were constantly fighting to stay in position between the islet and the jagged rocks that spat ocean spray from each wave that crashed onto them.  As the day drew on, the wind died down and the waves grew almost double in size, and a few even managed to closeout the entire span where we were surfing.  We each bagged about 10-15 waves, with our biggest conquests reaching a few feet overhead with rides reaching about 100 yards.  After nearly four hours of intense storm surf, we hauled our tired bodies out of the water and back up to road where the truck was parked.

With tired eyes and sore bodies, we drove back home with the satisfaction that only comes from the luck of succeeding in a triumphant surf mission.  It may not have been the day we planned, but we sure managed to pull a gem out of a day that otherwise would have left us dry.  I'm sure this account could possibly lead to others discovering what we've dubbed 'Red Rocks', but given the odd conditions that make this place surfable, I'm not too worried about the word getting out.  Still, it's always fun to find new surf spots in China, especially when they're right in your backyard.