Surfers Who Conquered the Biggest Waves on Earth

The ocean doesn’t play fair. It doesn’t care about skill, strength, or the years you’ve spent honing your craft. When a 100-foot wave roars to life, it’s not offering an invitation—it’s issuing a challenge. Only a rare breed of surfer dares to answer, paddling or towing into walls of water so massive they seem to defy physics. These aren’t just waves; they’re liquid mountains, rising from the deep with terrifying majesty.

For those who ride them, it’s not about fame or fortune. It’s about something primal—the pursuit of a moment where time slows, instincts sharpen, and every fiber of your being is locked in a dance with a force that could crush you in an instant. Mavericks, Nazaré, Jaws, Teahupo’o—each a battlefield where courage is tested, limits are shattered, and legends are made.

But what does it take to conquer the biggest waves on Earth? Iron lungs? Insanity? A pact with Poseidon himself? The answer lies in the stories of those who have dared to go beyond the limits—surfers who have stood on the precipice of oblivion and carved their names into the face of giants.

Big wave surfing

The Mavericks Maverick: Jeff Clark’s Solitary Odyssey

There are moments in surfing history that seem too audacious to be real—stories so steeped in myth that they blur the line between fact and folklore. Jeff Clark’s discovery of Mavericks is one of them.

In the early 1960s, Clark was just a teenager growing up in Half Moon Bay, California, a sleepy coastal town better known for its fog-drenched cliffs than for monstrous surf. But from a young age, he had an eye for the ocean, a sixth sense for swells, and an insatiable curiosity that would eventually lead him into the heart of one of the world’s most ferocious waves.

From the cliffs near Pillar Point, Clark would watch in fascination as enormous walls of water detonated over an offshore reef. Locals dismissed them as unrideable, just another anomaly in the wild, unpredictable waters of Northern California. But Clark wasn’t convinced. The wave called to him, and he was determined to answer.

Then, at just 17 years old, he paddled out alone. No tow-in assist. No safety crew. No reassurance that he would make it back to shore in one piece. Just him, his surfboard, and a wave that had gone unridden for centuries.

What he found was Mavericks—a cold-water colossus capable of producing 60-foot waves that crashed with the force of an avalanche. Unlike the warm, rolling big waves of Hawaii, Mavericks was an entirely different beast. It was unpredictable, brutally fast, and packed more power than anything Clark had ever encountered. He wiped out. He got rag-dolled. But he got back up. And for the next fifteen years, he surfed Mavericks in complete and utter solitude.

No one believed him. The idea of a big wave break this massive, this dangerous, sitting just a stone’s throw from shore, seemed absurd. California wasn’t supposed to have a wave like Waimea Bay or Jaws. Mavericks, they insisted, was unsurfable.

Clark didn’t argue. He just kept riding. Year after year, he returned to the break, honing his skills in conditions that no one else dared to touch. The ocean was his only witness.

Then, in the early 1990s, the secret was finally out. A handful of big-wave surfers, skeptical yet intrigued, came to see if Clark’s claims were real. What they found left them speechless: a liquid monster, rearing up from the deep with raw, untamed power. Within months, Mavericks was no longer a mystery—it was a Mecca.

Learn about Jeff Clark's pioneering work at Mavericks from Surfer Magazine, which dives deep into his discovery of the spot and his early solo sessions.

Today, Mavericks stands as one of the most feared big wave surf spots on the planet, a place where only the most elite surfers dare to test their limits. And it all started with one teenager, a board, and an unwavering belief in what was possible.

Laird Hamilton: The Architect of Tow-In Surfing

Some surfers follow the rules. Others rewrite them entirely. Laird Hamilton belongs to the latter. A man who wasn’t content with just riding waves—he wanted to redefine what was possible. And he did.

Before Hamilton, big wave surfing had limits. The sheer size and speed of waves over 30, 40, or even 50 feet made them nearly impossible to paddle into. By the time a surfer reached the critical takeoff zone, the wave was already thundering down, leaving no room for hesitation. The ocean had the upper hand, and surfers were forced to work within its constraints.

Then came the 1990s, and with them, a revolution. Hamilton and his crew—the legendary "Strapped" team—decided that paddling was no longer enough. If nature refused to wait for surfers, they’d simply find a way to beat it to the punch. The solution? Tow-in surfing.

Using jet skis, Hamilton and his crew developed a technique where one surfer would tow another into massive waves at high speed, launching them into position before the wave could outrun them. This innovation shattered the ceiling of big wave surfing, making once “unrideable” waves not just rideable, but conquerable. Jaws (Peahi) in Maui became their testing ground, a deep-water break where swells exploded with breathtaking violence. With tow-in surfing, Jaws went from an untouchable giant to a new proving ground for the fearless.

But it wasn’t just about riding bigger waves. Tow-in surfing allowed for more control, speed, and positioning, giving surfers the ability to navigate waves in ways that were previously unthinkable. It also introduced foot straps—a game-changing addition that let surfers stay glued to their boards while hitting speeds never before reached on a wave. The sport was evolving, and Hamilton was leading the charge.

Then, in the year 2000, he cemented his place in surfing history with one ride.

It happened at Teahupo’o, Tahiti, a reef break known for its ridiculously thick, hollow barrels—the kind of wave that looks more like a collapsing skyscraper than a rolling swell. That day, the ocean unleashed a mutant wave, something out of a nightmare. It wasn’t just big—it was heavy, thick, and ugly, a water formation that seemed to defy physics.

Most would have hesitated. Many would have wiped out. Hamilton, however, threaded the needle.

With unmatched precision, he dropped in beneath a moving mountain of water, disappearing into the gaping maw of Teahupo’o’s infamous barrel. The wave should have annihilated him. Instead, he emerged clean, shooting out of the other end like a bullet, completely unfazed. It was a moment that left even seasoned surfers speechless—a ride so surreal it earned the name “The Millennium Wave.”

Hamilton didn’t just conquer Teahupo’o that day. He changed the perception of what could be done on a surfboard. He took what was once deemed suicidal and turned it into an art form, proving that with enough vision, innovation, and sheer audacity, no wave was truly impossible.

Today, the legacy of tow-in surfing is everywhere. From Nazaré’s skyscraper waves to Jaws’ monstrous swells, the sport continues to push boundaries Hamilton once shattered. And while the man himself has long since secured his place as a legend, one thing remains certain—the ocean has never been the same since.

For more on Laird Hamilton's contributions, check out his official website here.

Tow-in Surfing

Garrett McNamara and the Nazaré Phenomenon

Some waves are legendary. Others are mythical. Nazaré, Portugal, belongs to the latter. A break so terrifyingly massive, so mind-bendingly powerful, it looks more like a natural disaster than a surfable wave. For years, it loomed in the background—a sleeping giant lurking off the shores of a quiet fishing village. Then, in 2011, one man paddled out and changed surfing history forever. That man was Garrett McNamara.

McNamara was no stranger to big waves. He had already carved a name for himself at Jaws, Mavericks, and Todos Santos, but Nazaré was different. It wasn’t just big—it was chaotic, unpredictable, a deep-sea monster that could swallow entire buildings. Unlike traditional big wave spots, which break over reefs or sandbars, Nazaré’s power comes from a submarine canyon—a 3-mile-deep trench that funnels ocean swells into a near-vertical explosion of water. There’s no defined takeoff zone, no predictable rhythm. The waves come at you like avalanches, shifting and stacking in ways that make even the most experienced surfers hesitate.

But McNamara saw potential where others saw certain doom.

With tow-in surfing as his weapon of choice, he and his team began deciphering the chaotic energy of Praia do Norte’s monstrous surf. It was dangerous. It was borderline insane. But it was exactly the kind of challenge McNamara thrived on.

Garrett McNamara's record-breaking ride at Nazaré, National Geographic offers an excellent breakdown of how McNamara helped to bring Nazaré into the global spotlight.

In November 2011, McNamara locked onto the biggest wave of his life. As he was towed into the behemoth, the ocean reared up behind him, forming a 100-foot liquid wall that defied all logic. Cameras on the cliffs captured what looked like an impossible feat—a lone surfer, a speck against a roaring titan, holding his line as the ocean tried to consume him. When he made it to shore, the surf world erupted. Had he just ridden the biggest wave in human history?

Official measurements would later confirm that McNamara’s ride had shattered all previous records. He had done the unthinkable. The sleepy fishing village of Nazaré was now the center of the big wave universe.

What followed was an explosion of interest. Nazaré, once overlooked in favor of Hawaii’s giants, became the ultimate proving ground for surfers hungry to etch their names in history. Each winter, daredevils from across the globe descend on the Portuguese coast, chasing the kind of waves that would make most people turn and run. And at the forefront of it all? Garrett McNamara—the man who cracked the code of Nazaré.

His legacy extends far beyond that one ride. McNamara didn’t just conquer Nazaré—he pioneered an era. He worked with scientists to better understand the wave’s mechanics, helped develop new safety protocols, and mentored the next generation of big wave gladiators. Even now, with newer surfers pushing the limits of what’s possible, his influence lingers in every towering set that detonates off Praia do Norte.

Nazaré is no longer a mystery. It’s a monument to human audacity—to the relentless pursuit of the impossible. And it all began with one man, one wave, and a moment that the world will never forget.

Keala Kennelly: The Queen of Fearless Charging

Big wave surfing has long been seen as the domain of men—an arena where brute strength and reckless abandon separate the daring from the doomed. But if history has a habit of underestimating women, Keala Kennelly has spent her career correcting that mistake.

From the moment she first paddled into the world’s most dangerous waves, Kennelly refused to be defined by outdated expectations. Teahupo’o, Jaws, Mavericks—she didn’t just surf these breaks. She dominated them.

Defying the Odds at Teahupo’o

If there’s one wave that has defined Kennelly’s career, it’s Teahupo’o, Tahiti—a wave so heavy and hollow it looks more like liquid concrete than water. Few surfers, male or female, have the stomach for its bone-crushing barrels. Kennelly, however, charged into them with an unflinching resolve.

In 2015, she made history, becoming the first woman to win the Barrel of the Year award at the Big Wave Awards. The ride? A ferocious, mutant wave at Teahupo’o, where she threaded herself through a cavern of churning water so thick it looked like it could snap her in half. The wipeout potential was catastrophic. The risk was astronomical. But Kennelly didn’t flinch. She emerged victorious, proving that fearless surfing has no gender.

Breaking Bones, Breaking Barriers

But greatness doesn’t come without a price. Kennelly’s career is a testament to resilience, forged through broken bones, concussions, and near-drownings. The ocean has tried to take her down more times than she can count, but each time, she’s come back stronger.

Her battles weren’t just with the waves. For years, the surf industry sidelined female athletes, offering them fewer opportunities, smaller prize purses, and far less recognition than their male counterparts. Kennelly fought against these limitations, refusing to let a system define her worth.

When the World Surf League (WSL) finally introduced equal prize money for men and women in 2018, it was a victory hard-earned by athletes like Kennelly, who had spent decades proving that women weren’t just capable of surfing big waves—they were capable of owning them.

A Legacy of Fearlessness

Today, Kennelly stands as a pioneer, an icon, a living testament to courage in its purest form. She has paved the way for a new generation of female big wave surfers, proving that the ocean doesn’t care about gender—it only respects those willing to risk it all.

And if there’s one thing Keala Kennelly has shown the world, it’s that she isn’t just participating in the sport of big wave surfing. She’s redefining it.

Jaws, or Peahi in Hawaii

The Jaws Riders: Peahi’s Gladiators

Jaws, or Peahi, is not a wave—it’s a beast, a titan that rises from the depths of the Pacific with an insatiable hunger. Located off the coast of Maui, this monstrous right-hand reef break doesn’t simply demand respect—it commands it. With waves that can grow to 60 feet and beyond, Jaws is a place where only the bravest dare to tread. But for a select few, it’s not just a challenge—it’s a playground.

Enter the Jaws Riders—a group of surfers whose bravery and innovation have redefined what’s possible in the realm of big wave surfing. These gladiators, including Kai Lenny, Billy Kemper, and Paige Alms, aren’t just surviving at Peahi—they’re thriving, pushing boundaries, and making history with every set.

Kai Lenny: The Innovator

When you think of Kai Lenny, words like “pioneer” and “innovator” come to mind. Lenny has never been content to simply follow in the footsteps of others. He’s always ahead of the curve, constantly pushing the limits of what can be done on a surfboard. But his biggest contribution to the world of big wave surfing? Hydrofoil surfing.

In the past, the massive size and relentless speed of Jaws forced surfers to paddle with immense power just to catch a wave. But Laird Hamilton revolutionized the approach. By attaching a hydrofoil to his board, he unlocked a whole new level of performance, allowing him to glide faster and longer than ever before. The hydrofoil lifts the board above the water as speed increases, giving Lenny a smoother, more controlled ride through the towering waves that would leave most surfers in awe. The result? Rapid drops, extended rides, and a groundbreaking way to tame the raw power of Peahi. For more on Lenny's pioneering work in big-wave hydrofoiling, check out Surfing Magazine.

Lenny’s groundbreaking efforts at Jaws have made him one of the most exciting and unpredictable surfers on the planet. Whether he’s riding a traditional surfboard or a hydrofoil, he’s always ready to push the limits and show the world what’s possible.

Billy Kemper: The Warrior

If Lenny is the innovator, Billy Kemper is the warrior. A true gladiator at heart, Kemper has earned his place among the giants of Jaws with his fearless approach and unmatched resilience. His career has been defined by his relentless drive to tackle the heaviest, most challenging waves that the ocean has to offer.

In 2016, Billy Kemper pushed the limits at Jaws by taking on a monstrous 60-foot wave that many thought was unrideable. Not only did he make it look effortless, but he solidified his status as one of the greatest big-wave surfers of his time. But Kemper’s legacy isn’t just defined by his impressive rides—it's also about his unmatched resilience in the face of wipeouts. While most surfers would be left battered, even defeated, by such massive falls, Kemper not only survives, but rebounds, proving his indomitable spirit. You can read more about Billy Kemper’s iconic 60-foot ride at Jaws in this Surfline article.

Kemper’s courage is unmatched, and his ability to turn the monstrous waves of Peahi into something manageable is a testament to his skill, determination, and unshakable will.

Paige Alms: The Queen of Jaws

For years, big wave surfing has been seen as a predominantly male-dominated sport. But Paige Alms has worked tirelessly to change that narrative. As one of the few women to charge Peahi, Alms has proven that women aren’t just capable of taking on big waves—they’re capable of dominating them.

In 2015, Alms became the first woman to win the prestigious Peahi Challenge at Jaws, a moment that reshaped the future of women’s big wave surfing. Her performance wasn’t just impressive—it was historic. Charging into some of the biggest, most dangerous waves in the world, Alms redefined what it means to surf like a woman in the big wave arena.

Her success at Peahi is a combination of precision, power, and fearless determination. Where most surfers might hesitate in the face of Jaws’ terrifying barrels, Alms sees opportunity. She charges, showing the world that the ocean doesn’t respect gender—it respects bravery and skill.

A New Era at Peahi

While each of these surfers—Lenny, Kemper, and Alms—brings something unique to the table, they share one thing in common: a refusal to be intimidated by the enormity of Jaws. Whether it’s hydrofoil innovation, untamed grit, or fearless progression, these gladiators have turned Peahi into the ultimate proving ground for big wave athletes.

Jaws is no longer just a wave; it’s a symbol. It represents the raw power of the ocean, but also the unstoppable will of the surfers who charge it. Thanks to Lenny, Kemper, Alms, and others who follow in their wake, Jaws has become a place where the ocean’s fury is no longer feared—it’s embraced. And the world watches in awe as these gladiators continue to rewrite the limits of what’s possible.

Mark Foo and the Ultimate Price of Passion

For Mark Foo, big wave surfing wasn’t just a passion—it was a philosophy.

"If you want the ultimate thrill, you must be willing to pay the ultimate price." Tragically, those words became hauntingly prophetic when Foo lost his life at Mavericks in 1994. His passing sent shockwaves through the surf community, a grim reminder that these waves do not negotiate. And yet, his legacy endures, inspiring generations of surfers to chase the ultimate ride.

Conclusion

The ocean gives, and the ocean takes. But for those who live for the thrill, there is no choice but to keep chasing. The next wave. The next frontier. The next impossible ride.

Because in the end, big wave surfing isn’t just about survival—it’s about transcending limits, one towering swell at a time.