She Surfs

Words by Rachael Uriarte | Photographs by Megan Youngblood

“I had a slight fear of waves. I still do.” For Taviana M. ’25, catching a wave in surfing is an electrifying blend of exhilaration and fear. Once you get into position, anticipation mounts, and then, you paddle like mad as the surge of the ocean lifts you, your momentum and that of the ocean converging to propel you forward in a rush of adrenaline. It took Taviana several lessons to move through her fear. She notes, “[Now] I love the adrenaline of catching a wave.”

Formed in 2022, Archer Surf was born out of a passion, a sense of community, and camaraderie, says Director of Athletics Kim Smith. There are roughly a dozen Archer Surf athletes, and the club’s goal is to provide athletes of all levels with the opportunity to develop their surf skills and foster a meaningful connection with nature. The inaugural surf season saw one Archer surfer compete in the Scholastic Surf League with competitions held at Carpinteria and Ventura Fairgrounds. But among those who are competing in meets, Archer girls are in the minority. “What I see is that it’s male-dominated,” says Taviana. “When I look to see who’s competing at competitions, it’s majority boys who compete.”

For decades, surfing has been portrayed as a rugged, adrenaline-fueled activity dominated by men, often depicted in movies like Kathryn Bigelow’s 1991 “Point Break.” The hypermasculine portrayal of the sport was reinforced by the fact that early modern surfing communities were predominantly Eurocentric, with men visibly being the primary participants, instructors, and leaders in the sport.

Despite its modern male-dominated image, surfing's roots reveal a different story with origins in Polynesia. The Polynesians possessed a deep-seated bond with the vast expanse of the ocean, woven intricately into the fabric of their existence. Known as "he'e nalu"—roughly translated to “wave sliding”—in Hawaiian, surfing transcended mere practicality or leisure; it evolved into a ritualistic communion, a watery conduit linking mortals with their pantheon of deities and the elemental forces of nature. Within their cosmology, the ocean held sanctity, its depths inhabited by formidable spirits and gods. Riding the waves wasn't just a sport; it was a reverential act, an homage to the divine dwellers of the sea. To catch a wave was to harness the very essence and might of the ocean, bridging the tangible and the transcendent realms in a singular, sacred dance.

Before contact with Christian missionaries in ancient Hawaii, surfing was an egalitarian pursuit; it belonged to chiefs, common folk, warriors, the old, and the young alike. Women being written out of history is nothing new, so it’s unsurprising to learn that there is a female-centered aspect of surfing history that most people don’t know about. Ancient Polynesian historians point out that women earned the highest esteem for their prowess, finesse, and elegance on the surfboard. Women were considered esteemed surfers who contributed to the sport's development and shaped its cultural significance, including Polynesian mythical lore.

According to legend, the Hawaiian Goddess Pele, ruler of volcanoes, is hailed as one of the earliest surfers. She learned the art from Kamohaoli’I, the guardian shark god, who then passed on his knowledge to her youngest sistergoddess, Hi’iaka. Another myth describes Mamala, a surfing kapua—a shapeshifter—who could effortlessly morph from a stunning woman into a formidable shark or even a colossal lizard. In one captivating tale, Mamala finds herself entangled in a love triangle with another kapua and a chief, a story that doesn't bode well for the male kapua. Yet, what shines through in the

myth is Mamala's extraordinary athleticism. Renowned for her ability to dance atop even the most colossal waves, she reportedly reveled in the wild, wind-whipped waters of Kou Bay (today's Honolulu Harbor). In homage to her prowess, the ocean off the coast of Waikiki bears her name: Ke-kai-oMamala, the Sea of Mamala.

The arrival of American missionaries in the 19th century saw the introduction of piety and strict gender roles, which swept through Polynesia and beyond. Even more devastating was the onslaught of infectious diseases and the shift towards a cash-based economy, robbing Hawaiians of their once-plentiful leisure time. With the demand for labor in newly-established sugar plantations, there was little room left for the pursuit of surfing. The untamed joy of riding waves faced near extinction, leading the sport to become a male-dominated pursuit.

"By 1900," proclaimed Duke Kahanamoku, "surfing had vanished across the Islands, save for a few remote spots... and even there, only a handful of men braved the waves." Renowned as the "Father of Modern Surfing," Kahanamoku’s skill in riding waves earned him multiple Olympic gold medals and widespread recognition. Beyond his legendary surfing, Kahanamoku's legacy endures as a cultural icon, inspiring generations with his passion for the ocean and his embodiment of Hawaiian values. The puritanical disdain of Christian missionaries toward activities like surfing, where scantily clad men and women mingled amidst the sea's embrace, created an environment hostile to the sport. "Surfing was limited to select beaches—primarily on the islands of Maui and O‘ahu—because “missionaries frowned on ‘idle and sensuous’ practices such as the hula, Native sports, and surfing,” writes Isaiah Helekunihi Walker, author of “Hui Nalu, Beachboys, and the Surfing Boarder-lands of Hawai‘i.” In spite of the newly-imposed societal norms, small groups of men and women, including members of the royal family, surfed through the late nineteenth century. “Among those who frequented the waves during this time was Queen Lili‘uokalani’s niece and designated heir to the throne, Princess Victoria Ka‘iulani,” wrote Helekunihi Walker.

If Kahanamoku rightfully earned the title of the man who brought surfing to the modern world in the early 20th century, then Princess Ka‘iulani is the unsung hero who rescued the sport from extinction.

Born Princess Victoria Kawēkiu Ka‘iulani Lunalilo Kalaninuiahilapalapa Cleghorn on October 16, 1875, Ka‘iulani carried the weight of a regal lineage, her name a tribute to both Queen Victoria and her late aunt, Anna Ka‘iulani. Throughout her life, Ka‘iulani's devotion to the Hawaiian people shone brightest in their darkest hours. In the Hawaiian tongue, Ka‘iulani translates to “the highest point of heaven” or “the royal sacred one,” fitting monikers for a woman who soared above mere mortal concerns.

Kaēiulani, inherently athletic, embraced a diverse array of activities, from the grace of equestrianism to the thrill of surfing, the serenity of swimming, the strategy of croquet, and the tranquility of canoeing. In a notable 1897 interview with The Sun newspaper in New York, she reflected, "I love riding, driving, swimming, dancing, and cycling. Really, I'm sure I was a seal in another world because I am so fond of the water…My mother taught me to swim almost before I knew how to walk."

Acting as a courageous intermediary between the cultures she connected, Ka‘iulani aided in the preservation of surfing tradition amidst the seismic shifts of European colonization while playing a pivotal part in safeguarding Hawaiian culture at the age of 17.

Surfing's global reach expanded quickly in the 20th century. In a 1915 showcase down under in Sydney, Australia, Duke Kahanamoku took 15-year-old Isabel Letham under his wing. “He took me by the scruff of the neck and yanked me onto my feet,’” Letham later recalled, according to the National Library of Australia. “Off we went, down the wave.”

While Letham might not have been the first Australian to catch a wave, she would undoubtedly go on to earn a place among the most celebrated. After relocating to California, she assumed the role of swimming director in San Francisco, where she endeavored to introduce surf lifesaving techniques akin to those of Australia's prestigious Manly Life Saving Club. Despite facing rejection from the Manly Club, who denied her membership on the basis of her gender, arguing she couldn't handle rough seas, Letham's story persists as a testament to her resilience and determination. As Molly Schiot recounts in “Game Changers: The Unsung Heroines of Sports History,” Letham's legacy endures as a beacon of defiance against gender barriers in sports, some of which continue to persist today.

In the '60s and '70s, so surfing underwent a radical transformation, morphing from a niche hobby into a commercialized worldwide obsession. Dubbed the Golden Era of Surfing, the sport witnessed an explosion in popularity across genders as surf culture infiltrated mainstream society, birthing a fresh batch of surfing idols.

Among them stood Linda Benson, a bona fide legend whose fearless conquest of big waves clinched her the Women's World Champion title in 1959, all at the tender age of 15. Benson's meteoric ascent shattered the myth of surfing as an exclusively male domain, inspiring hordes of young girls to grab a board and hit the waves.

Meanwhile, back on the sandy shores of Waikiki Beach, a band of trailblazing female surfers, dubbed the "Wahine Makaha," carved out their own slice of history. Challenging societal norms with every ride, they reshaped the perception of women in surfing, rekindling an indelible mark on the sport's landscape.

Hawaiian Rell Sunn caught her first wave at the young age of four in Makaha, a cozy hamlet nestled on Oahu's shores. When she hit competition age, the field was sparse for women, so she dove headfirst into men's contests instead. As chronicled by The New York Times in her 1998 obituary, she was a near-permanent fixture in the finals of men's events. "Come 1975," the Times reported, "Sunn and other trailblazers like Joyce Hoffman and Linda Benson had ignited a spark in enough women to take up the sport, paving the way for Ms. Sunn to co-found the Women’s Professional Surfing Association and kick off the inaugural professional tour for women." Even before she earned the moniker "Queen of Makaha," her middle name, Kapolioka’ehukai, seemed to foretell her fate. In Hawaiian lore, it translates to "heart of the sea," a fitting descriptor for the woman who, in 1977, made history as Hawaii's first female lifeguard.

The early 21st century marked a seismic shift in women's perception and involvement in surfing. No longer relegated to the sidelines, female surfers emerged as formidable contenders and trendsetters. The advent of the Women's Championship Tour (WCT) in the 1980s provided a stage for women to flaunt their prowess and vie at the pinnacle of the sport.

Icons like Layne Beachley, reigning over the WCT with an impressive seven world titles, and Stephanie Gilmore, matching her feat with seven world titles of her own, skyrocketed to household fame, embodying the apex of female excellence in surfing. Their journeys illustrated that aspirations could transform into tangible triumphs with grit and unyielding dedication.

As we enter a new era of surfing, the presence and influence of women in the sport have never been stronger, but the journey toward gender equality in surfing continues to present frustrating challenges. Despite the remarkable achievements of female surfers, women have often found themselves marginalized within the industry, facing disparities in prize money, sponsorship opportunities, and media coverage.

In recent years, however, there has been a groundswell of advocacy aimed at leveling the playing field and ensuring that women receive the recognition and respect they deserve.

One organization at the forefront of this movement is the Women's Surfing Alliance (WSA), a grassroots collective dedicated to promoting gender equality in the sport of surfing. Founded in 2015 by a group of passionate female surfers, WSA has been instrumental in advocating for equal pay, increased representation, and greater opportunities for women in surfing. Through initiatives such as mentorship programs, community outreach, and grassroots activism, WSA is working tirelessly to empower the next generation of female surfers and ensure that the legacy of women in surfing continues to thrive.

In addition to advocacy efforts, the rise of social media has played a pivotal role in amplifying female surfers' voices and spotlighting their achievements. Platforms like Instagram, Facebook, and TikTok have provided female surfers with a powerful megaphone to share their stories, connect with fans, and challenge stereotypes about women in the sport.

From the pioneers of the past to the trailblazers of tomorrow, the legacy of women in surfing is a testament to the power of perseverance, passion, and the indomitable spirit of the human soul.

“When I’m out there, and I’m waiting to find the perfect wave for me… that moment when I’m able to catch a wave, it’s such a freeing feeling,” describes Taviana M. ’25. “When I’m catching a wave I’m able to escape from everything else, and that’s what I’m focusing on.