Journalist Jim Clash from Forbes magazine talks about the scare he had with Garrett McNamara in Nazaré.
A 50-foot-plus wave breaking at Praia do Norte, Nazare, Portugal, October 28, 2023. Notice jet skis (top left) for scale. Photo: CARLOS TORO |
About an hour and a half north of Lisbon, Portugal, by bus, lies the small coastal town of Nazare. Most of your average Joes have never heard of the place, but surfers sure know it. Nazare has the biggest waves in the world on a consistent basis, approaching 100 feet during the peak season from October through March.
In 2011, Hawaiian surfer Garrett McNamara put Nazare on the map when he rode what was judged to be a 78-foot-high wave there, the photo and video of which went viral internationally. His world record stood for six years until Brazilian Rodrigo Koxa broke it in 2017, riding a swell of 80 feet. Then, in 2020, the current record of 86 feet was set by German Sebastian Steudtner.
Why are the waves so big at Nazare? A unique underwater channel feeds its north beach, Praia do Norte, with deep swells traveling long distances from powerful storms in the Atlantic Ocean. The topography of the bottom near the shoreline is shaped in such a way as to amplify and refract those swells, sometimes causing them to unite, doubling or even tripling their sizes when they break.
Forbes writer Jim Clash on the back of a jet ski piloted by surfer Garrett McNamara, heading out to big surf at Praia do Norte, Nazare, Portugal, October 28, 2023. Photo : CARLOS TORO |
I’m not a surfer, but big waves have always intrigued me. This past spring, I interviewed McNamara about his acclaimed HBO series, “The 100 Foot Wave.” At the end of our chat, I casually asked if I met him in Nazare, would he take me on the back of his tow-in jet ski out to the giant waves there. He said yes, surprisingly, and the rest, well, is the stuff of this story.
In September, McNamara let me know of his plans to be in Nazare the last part of October, and, if I were still interested in experiencing big waves, to meet him there. I immediately booked air tickets to Lisbon, and asked filmmaker Carlos Toro of Steer Films to join me to capture the visuals.
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Mother Nature is fickle, of course, and there is never any guarantee of good or bad weather, nor of big or small waves. Last season, in fact, Nazare saw no really giant wave days, an unusual occurrence.
Toro and I arrived Sunday, the 22nd, to coincide with McNamara’s arrival. The wave forecast for the following 10 days was mostly smallish-to-medium, until the 27th and 28th, when giant waves were supposed to barrel in, so we had time to shed our jet lag and explore the charming town. We had a nice meal at Rosa du Vento, a traditional Portuguese restaurant. On the other end of the scale, we had some good-old American fast food at McDonald’s (yes, they have them there). And, of course, we ventured over to the north beach and took a tour of the famous lighthouse there.
50-foot-plus wave breaking at Praia do Norte, Nazare, Portugal, October 28, 2023. For scale, notice jet skis, upper left.
Photo: CARLOS TORO
As the week progressed, the wave forecast for the prime two days kept getting better and better. At dinner Thursday night with another well-known big wave surfer, Andy “Cotty” Cotton, and his significant other, pro skier Justine Blanc, it was decided that we would attempt our jet-ski wave pilgrimage on the 28th, as that morning looked to have the biggest swells, and the least wind. The plan was for Toro to ride on Cotton’s jet ski, staying close to and filming me on McNamara’s.
Early on the 28th, for the first time since I’d been in Nazare, I could hear the heavy crashes of waves from my Airbnb more than a mile away from the shore. I guess the forecasters had been accurate. The primordial sound gave me goosebumps.
When we met up at 7:30 a.m., Cotton and McNamara gave us wet suits and life jackets to wear, then we all headed down to the harbor to gas up the jet skis. Once in the water, unseasonably warm for this time year, the rough chop on the beach south of Nazare’s lighthouse was surprisingly large, 15 feet or more.
Seated just behind McNamara, my only other point of contact with the machine was a single strap directly in front of me. I held on tight, trying to keep my balance, as the vehicle violently rocked side-to-side, and up-and-down, like a bucking Bronco, as we made our way to the north beach where the really big surf lurked.
And boy was it big. The waves from the side as we approached looked like giant snow-capped peaks gliding across the ocean. As we entered the area, McNamara wasted no time cranking up the heat. He quickly pulled alongside a 50-footer as it was getting ready to break. I had never seen anything like it, frothing and churning - a pulsating five-story apartment building up close and personal.
I looked around. Tons of waves were breaking all over the place, some even bigger. I yelled to McNamara to saddle up to a 60-footer, if it were possible. It was. Almost kiddingly, I then asked if there were any 70-footers out there. He laughed, said maybe a few, and sure enough he went in search of one. He’s a wild man. When we found it, McNamara actually pulled up on top and rode the horizontal length of the crest just before it broke. He screamed at me to look down to my right.
What I saw seemed like an optical illusion. There was a precipitous vertical drop directly to the bottom of the wave. It was insane. I took a quick mental snapshot before McNamara quickly veered the ski left, to calmer waters behind the wave, so as not to get sucked up into the barrel.
Then things got crazy. Suddenly, the jet ski tipped over and went upside down, and McNamera and I were catapulted into the ocean. Luckily, the machine stayed near us. McNamara dove underneath and tried to right it, but to no avail. When he surfaced, he had me help rock the sled toward us. We tried a few times until eventually - and thankfully - it flipped to the upright position.
With urgency, McNamara jumped back on, fired the thing up and yelled at me to hang on to the sled at the back rather than board the ski as we had to really high-tail it out of there before the next set of monster swells were upon us. A scary 40 seconds seemed like an hour, I can tell you.
A couple watches Nazare’s giant waves break from the Praia do Norte cliffs, October 28, 2023. Photo: JIM CLASH |
Twenty minutes later and safely back on shore, McNamara told me we were lucky that there had been a calm respite between the wave sets. Had there been another giant wave directly following the one we had capsized behind, I might not be here writing this now. God was watching out, I guess.
In McNamara’s garage, we took showers to remove the salt water, then enjoyed espressos from his gourmet coffeemaker. We laughed and hi-fived each other, but each of us knew how easily the experience that morning could have gone south. The only casualty were my glasses, which clearly flew off when we were tossed into the ocean, and must now be in God knows how many pieces at the bottom of the channel. The ocean has tremendous power, and, at Nazare, it’s to be particularly respected. So are the brave folks like Cotton and McNamara who surf it.
Of all my extreme adventures, this one has to rank in the top five, maybe even top three. Never before had I felt as awed by, and afraid of, Mother Nature at the same time. What a rush.
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