The Joy of Psychos

Meet a California maverick bent on finding gigantic waves in his own back yard - even if the hordes Great Whites have something to say about it. JAWS, go to hell!

Let the record show that this is not a story about Norman Bates, nor psychos in general. Unless you consider action-sports photographer Greg Huglin batty for wanting to get several tow-surfers together for a surf trip to a secret spot that may constantly fire off 80-foot virginal waves. This is “Psychos,” and it's perched somewhere between the Channel Islands of California and a place that could be hell – if just one mine surrounding the destination is triggered.

Huglin found the spot a few years back after hearing tales – from urchin divers – that monstrous mountains of water, inaccessible by land, existed beyond the Islands. His search began by boat and moved to the air with expensive helicopter recon. After getting a positive I.D., he named the break because “who in their right mind would be psycho enough to try it?” He also stumbled upon another spot, right next door to Psychos, called “Shark Park.” Think of Psychos as the granddaddy of Big Waves, and Shark Park the grandson.

"It's definitely possible getting out there. But getting back is a whole other story."

Discovery is really nothing, just a compass point on a map, until obstacles are overcome and that discovery springs to life. Obstacles facing Huglin and crew – which  included Tow Surfing World Champ Garrett McNamara – were gigantic, rocky and foggy seas, shifting, doubled-up waves and a ship of men blowing chunks over the side. Add to that the Great White sharks and the almighty– and always-alert – United States Air Force, and you've got a challenge.

But Huglin is game to take on all comers – he didn't survive in the water all these years, not only as photographer but a surfer and windsurfer, without having some serious competitive juices flowing. He'll tell you stories about the punks who yell “L.A. go home!” at him when he's out windsurfing his local break and how he manages to “persuade” them to exit the water. Then to set the record straight, so you know just how major-league ballsy Psychos is to attempt, he'll draw an analogy and let you know that one out of every four climbers die on the way back down Everest. As for Psychos, Huglin says: “It's definitely possible getting out there. But getting back is a whole other story.”

Great White Fever

Flashback to 1997. JAWS. The 52-year-old, sun-weathered renegade-of-the-lens, who has shot action sports for the last 30 years, was filming the famous North Shore Maui break when he got the inspiration to find mammoth waves closer to his Californian backyard. So he and his playmates didn't have to fly all over the world seeking out the Shangri-La of Surf.

“I wanted to do this project with a few friends, not a giant Hollywood-style crew,” says Huglin, who did time in Hollywood shooting and directing commercials. After experiencing the bullshit. of that world, he just wanted to be left alone so he and his friends could co-create their vision without any outside meddling.
“When someone like Greg sets their mind on something like this, there's no looking back,” says tow-surfer Chuck Patterson, who thinks Huglin is a master of the ocean.

“I've filmed just about everything that I've been interested in,” Huglin says, “and I'm running out of subjects that are challenging for me. But, you know, if you want to try something new, you have to go look around the bend.”

Psychos and Shark Park are 50 miles from the nearest land. Meaning, if something catastrophic were to occur, there's no helicopter access, and little chance at assistance from Baywatch blondes bearing flotation devices. “Plan B” from the Huglin Handbook states: “If anyone gets trapped inside the break, they should tie themselves to a kelp bed so someone will eventually find their bodies.”
That is, if the sharks don't pick them off first.

Great Whites feast in the region because a fertile combination of warm and cool currents brings a great variety of marine life to the area, including the elephant seals that are a regular main course for the sharks. Huglin says he hasn't seen any Great Whites in the area, but several attacks are on record. Most recently, a diver bled to death after being pulled from the water by his friends with a severed leg, trailed by a 15-foot wake of blood. From the bite marks on his wetsuit, the coroner estimated that the shark's mouth was 18 inches long and its body length was 25 feet – the biggest on record for the vicinity.

There's also the complications of dealing with the land sharks, the surf poachers that would love to cut in on Huglin's action and the local commercial fishermen who cast their nets of territorialism. “Some of them feel that all the Channel Islands are their own personal playground,” Huglin says. This was evident after he received a threatening e-mail from a local deck-hand who promised to help screw up his project because he thought Huglin was from out of town and was trying to exploit the Islands. Eventually, Huglin found out that the guy's captain was actually a friend of his; now, both captain and deck-hand have signed up to be on the Huglin support team.

Mother Nature At Her Best

Once the mainland minefield was successfully navigated, Huglin had to maneuver around an oceanic landscape that has claimed hundreds of shipwrecks through the years. Also, moving anywhere wasn't possible until he obtained clearance from the U.S. Air Force Base at Vandenberg. Located in Lompoc, Calif., Vandenberg is the top-secret base where many of the test missiles for the Star Wars program are launched. They'd already disrupted Huglin's first helicopter-recon attempt – radioing them to vacate the area—when his pilot dropped below the required 1,000-foot elevation so they could get better pictures. On the second helicopter run, Huglin followed proper post 9-11 protocol and phoned ahead to make sure they weren't going to be flying in a “hot zone.”

That's all we need, Donny Rumsfeld giving the order that blows a bunch of surfing commandos out of the water by mistake.

With the ocean taking up two-thirds of the earth surface, it's no wonder there are still uncharted waves left to be found. And with the growing popularity of tow-surfing, there are many explorers like Huglin who are boldly willing to surf where no man has surfed before. But when asked if he thinks tow-surfing violates Mother Nature, Huglin says, “We drive cars and use phones and computers to enhance our lives in the first world. Everyone hates the sound of jet skis, but they enable you to push the limits of fun. And you couldn't surf either Psychos or Shark Park without towing in. So either do it, or shut up and let someone else do it.”

But Huglin displays humility when he says he understands Mother Nature is the one really in charge out there, and how “we're not heroes, just a bunch of cautious guys who like to go for it and see what we can pull off.”

He also realizes that he can't put a flag in the spot, claim ownership and call it Psychoville. “If someone wants to go out there and die before me, fine.”

As luck would have it, no one beat him to the punch, and he's still alive. Twice this past winter, he managed to get Shark Park just perfect, with waves up to 40 feet in size. Unfortunately, the conditions at Psychos made it too dangerous to attempt. But, hey, with 80-foot surf waiting to be conquered, do you think Huglin and Co. are going to stop with 35 foot waves? Hell no. They'll be dreaming of it all summer long. Stay tuned.