Surfing the industrial-size waves of a giant ship in San Francisco Bay is a thrilling experience: smooth, silent and sublimely fast.
It can also be extraordinarily dangerous. And illegal.
“The ship can suck you in, drag you under and chop you up like a Cuisinart,” said David Wells of the San Francisco Boardsailing Association, which has started an educational campaign to prevent tragedy in those who venture too close.
Bay Area athletes have long loved extreme water sports, and for decades the cold, windy and wild waters of the Golden Gate have lured kiteboarders and windsurfers seeking to push their limits.
The new sport of “hydrofoiling” — using boards that skim across the water at speeds of up to 40 miles per hour, floating two feet above the chop – has turbocharged enthusiasm. The hydrofoil enlists the same principles as an airplane, using a wing to create lift.
If a hydrofoiler catches the powerful wake of a commercial ship, they can experience a blissful ride that’s up to three miles long.
Most foilers are responsible, staying out of the way of large ships, according to the U.S. Coast Guard and San Francisco Bar Pilots, who guide large vessels through one of the nation’s busiest maritime channels.
But others are not. They’re nicknamed “splats,” like bugs on a windshield, by frustrated ship captains.
“It’s enticing to get up there, close to the ship’s swell. That’s human nature. But it creates a major safety issue,” said Capt. Anne McIntyre of the San Francisco Bar Pilots.
Foiling gained fame when Oracle co-founder Larry Ellison allowed foils on the America’s Cup boats in 2013. A wing-shaped device, a foil sits beneath the board and lifts it above the surface of the water. Sailors feel suspended between water and sky.
The innovation was quickly embraced by surfers, kiteboarders and windsurfers, challenged by the new and different way to ride. Kite manufacturers took note, designing increasingly agile and high-tech equipment.
Interest in foiling exploded during the lockdown of the COVID-19 pandemic, especially among tech types, as people looked for fun outdoors. Crissy Field, a beach at the foot of the Presidio of San Francisco, emerged as a world-renowned foil site, drawing professionals and gutsy amateurs.
Just as it did for the America’s Cup boats, a foil adds speed and grace to a board.
“It’s like a magic carpet ride. An amazing sensory experience,” Wells said. “It’s very fluid – a ballet-like sport, with incredible speed.”
Unlike kiteboarding or windsurfing, “you’re flying above the water, not slapping on the water,” he said. “There’s less wear on the body because you’re not absorbing the chop.”
A hydrofoil needs less wind than a kiteboard or windsurfer. While some riders use a kite, others move by simply pumping the board, bouncing up and down. It’s simpler to launch and land. It doesn’t have a lot of tangled lines. It’s easier to turn.
These attributes have expanded the number of days that people can sail — as well as the number of people sailing.
On the best days, carving turns under the Golden Gate Bridge feels like a maritime version of a fresh powder day on a steep ski slope. Cool ocean air and water rushes through the narrow portal, creating a “Venturi effect” that propels foilers to fierce speeds.
The worst days can be lethal. Last October, the crew of the vessel PV Drake saved the life of a foiler who had fallen and was carried 5 miles out to sea. In darkness, they tossed him two life rings with water lights, then helped him climb a ladder and over the vessel’s rail to safety. Exhausted and suffering from severe shock and hypothermia, he was rushed to a hospital by helicopter.
The Bay’s biggest risk-takers hunt for boats. A boat’s wake creates a silky smooth ride, because it pushes away the Bay chop. If the wake is long and strong enough, it can carry a rider all the way to Alcatraz.
“This is a growing problem. And it’s something that could be met with enforcement actions,” such as civil penalties costing thousands of dollars, warned Nathan Mendes, deputy chief of law enforcement for the U.S. Coast Guard Sector San Francisco.
Last December, famed Hawaiian foil-surfer Kai Lenny recorded a video of his ride alongside a behemoth cargo ship. Lenny, the first person to foil surf Maui’s infamous big wave break Jaws, looked like an ant on the flank of an elephant.
“It’s going to be pretty insane, if I don’t get run over or eaten by a shark!” said Lenny, before jumping into the frigid Bay water.
“I feel like we’re pirates — stealing wake!” he said, ebulliently.
The problem, says the U.S. Coast Guard and Bay Pilots, is that the giant vessels can’t quickly stop. Traveling 20 knots, holding millions of dollars’ worth of cargo, it may take 1.5 miles to halt. The ships are deceptively fast and can create a wind shadow that stalls a small foiler. In an emergency, if tugboat crews need to quickly reach the side of the vessel, foilers could block access.
The Port of Oakland is one of the top four busiest gateways on the West Coast, handling 99% of all containerized goods that move through Northern California. As global trade has grown, cargo ships have steadily increased in size. One recent vessel measured nearly 300 feet — longer than the Salesforce
“It’s very difficult to see small objects from the bridge of the ship. They won’t come up on our radar,” McIntyre said. “And if you’re focusing on not running somebody over, you can be distracted from something else that’s important.”
There’s no room to maneuver. The channel under the Golden Gate Bridge is narrow and only 60 feet deep. There’s a treacherous sand bar.
“There’s very little water that is sufficiently deep for the ships to operate in,” McIntyre said.
If a vessel is forced to change course quickly to spare the life of a board rider, it could run aground or collide with another vessel, said Mendes. This could cause major damage and significant environmental damage if a collision causes an oil spill.
And riders may end up in court. That’s because Rule 9 of the International Navigational Rules of the Road requires that small vessels get out of the way of large vessels. Specifically, small watercraft can’t “impede” large vessels, causing them to slow, alter course or take other action. The ship’s captain, not the recreational sailor, makes the determination. Fines can reach $14,000.
There’s even a worse fate: Injury or death.
If they fall, they could get run over. Another danger — a powerful eddy at the ship’s stern — is largely hidden. To the average observer, the wake of a ship seems to push water away. But an eddy can catch a board or sail, or a person, and pull them into the ship’s propellers.
“If you were to fall, you could get sucked under” and drown, Wells said. “If you’re caught in the eddy, it could drag you into those props and literally dice you up.”
To save lives, the San Francisco Boardsailing Association has created an educational campaign, writing newsletters, posting on social media and holding seminars and “outreach sessions” on Zoom. Once a year, it holds a public Safety Day with the U.S. Coast Guard.
“It has escalated to the point we, as a community, need to begin to police ourselves, before it’s done to us. Or, even worse, before someone gets hurt,” according to the group’s blog post.
Outreach has improved safety, said Wells. “But there’s always a couple bad apples that ruin it for everybody. And there are out-of-town travelers, who don’t know the situation.”
The association urges foilers to stay at least 300 feet away, the length of a football field, from a vessel. They should be positioned behind the ship, not alongside. How far back is safe? You need to be able to read the name of the ship on the stern, said Wells.
The U.S. Coast Guard wants foilers to stay away from boats altogether. Foilers need to be “transiting” across the channel, not wake-surfing, said Mendes.
“That’s the curse and the blessing of having this amazing San Francisco Bay, right here,” said McIntyre. “It’s a a joy. But it can get really crowded, and dangerous.”