Written by Joel

For what was more or less my introduction to surfing, you could say I was out of my depth. A friend of mine, Joe, had got talking to some local surfing identities in Mancora and lined up a mission to a remote and serious surf spot. I had to accept the invitation when it came and at 7am the following day we left for Lobitos, which translates to ‘wolves’ in English. Our friends were all dominant surfers; Walter, the owner of a Mancora surf shop, Nicolas, owner of the local pizza joint and Miguel, a local hotelier – top Peruvian blokes for sure.

The scenery on the drive to Lobitos was otherworldly. Hundreds of oil derricks dotted the vast sandy hills, lazily churning out crude from the depths and distributing their payload through a startling myriad of pipes that endlessly crisscrossed the landscape. Knarly, desert dwelling Algarrobo trees dominated the rough, dusty terrain and it looked a lot like Africa. We turned off the PAN American Highway and rattled our way along miles of unmarked dirt roads towards the coast. This was locals only territory – no tourists in sight. After being granted access at a remote military checkpoint we reached the beach. It was an alien landscape and strangely, very beautiful.

Abandoned buildings wrecked by conflict and decorated in barbed wire lined a rugged pacific shoreline and a few rustic cabins occupied prime positions. The surf was incredible – competition worthy, glassy smooth, left hand point break peeled relentlessly across the bay. A desolate coast stretched away to the north and offshore we could count at least 20 oil platforms. In these waters, the cold Humboldt current meets the warm El Niño current and marine life thrives. Pelicans glide low across the water and baitfish teem at the surface, attacked constantly by huge work-ups of gannets that circled and dived all around.

I threw my reservations aside and we charged the beach with a positive attitude and no fear. The first wave ate me and I could see why they called the break ‘wolves’. A working over in the brutal wash cycle only made me hungrier, and I got up on the next one. The ride was long and exhilarating – maybe 15 seconds. I was in a thrilled state of disbelief; my first decent attempt at surfing and I was doing a somewhat ok job amongst waves and surfers that belonged in magazines. I think the other guys on the break thought it was pretty funny I was learning at Lobitos in big, curling waves. For me, this was the highlight of Northern Peru and it was so awesome that those guys shared it with me. An unforgettable privilege, and, combined with Alli’s newfound passion for surfing, the start of many more wave riding adventures to come.