Podcast: Small Waves, Big Community: The Resilient Soul of Galveston Surfing

Did you know that Galveston Island has over 30 miles of beaches for over a century? People have come to enjoy the sand, the sun, the surf, and the surf, and the beach has been a major draw for the island throughout its history. Over the years, local businesses and other organizations have worked hard to provide better beaches for residents and visitors alike. There are also plenty of annual events and a surprising surf culture that brings people onto the beach and into the water, Galveston style.

AND YES! That's right, I said surf culture!

The waves on the Texas coast aren't like California's or Hawaii's, but the sport of surfing and the culture around it is strong in Texas, especially on Galveston's beaches. Unlike the Pacific or Atlantic, the Gulf doesn't offer consistent swell or towering waves, but what it does offer is variety and a loyal group of surfers who know how to work with what they've got, especially on Galveston's beaches.

While the roots of modern surfing trace back thousands of years to Polynesia, where it was considered both a sport and a spiritual practice. It was Hawaii that helped spread the culture to the rest of the world in the early 20th century as surfing caught on along the coast of California and Australia. The Gulf of Mexico, though not known for its towering waves, began carving out its own scene.

Galveston Island gained a reputation as a beach destination early in its history in the mid-19th century. It was most famous as a commercial port city, but the island's beaches were certainly still a bonus for residents and tourists. By the 1920s, Galveston was already earning a reputation as a seaside playground. Locals and tourists alike flocked to the Gulf for surf bathing, what we'd now call swimming and body surfing, today. Wooden bathhouses line the shoreline, offering rented swimsuits and showers. Splash Day, a springtime celebration of beach season, brought beauty contests, bands, and tens of thousands to the sand.

Few people understood the Gulf better than Galveston's long-distance swimmers and beach lifeguards, and none of them were more legendary than Leroy Colombo. Born in 1905 and deaf since childhood, Colombo became one of the most skilled watermen on the Texas coast. He is credited with saving over 900 lives during his decades as a lifeguard. Like Colombo,Galveston's elite swimmers and lifeguards spent countless hours in the surf. Learning its moods, currents, and dangers through daily immersion. Their deep familiarity with the water made them some of the most adept ocean athletes. This group of people were some of the first to surf in Galveston, as they were using rescue boards on a daily basis. These boards were essentially surfboards used to rescue swimmers in distress.

In Texas, surfers weren't exactly chasing big breaks but rather strategizing and creatively finding ways to catch a wave, but the excitement and connection to nature were real. By the 1950s and 1960s, surf culture was sweeping the nation. What started in the Pacific, rooted in Polynesian tradition, and made mainstream by California youth, was making its way to the Gulf Coast. In Galveston, a handful of early adopters paddled out on homemade or imported boards, chasing small waves and a big feeling of freedom.

Galveston's surf breaks depend on the wind, tide, and local topography. Galveston's rock groins, commonly referred to as jetties, initially built in the 1930s to protect against erosion, create some of the more reliable breaks on the island. These rock structures help shape sandbars and give the waves something to peel over, and when the wind comes from the right direction, you'll see longboarders gliding across a face of clean waist-high waves, and when a tropical storm or hurricane swell rolls in, you'll see dedicated surfers paddling out. These storm swells create powerful sets, and a chance to ride waves this size only shows up a few times a year. However, I don't recommend this for novice surfers.

Surfing in Galveston isn't just about chasing waves; it's about building a community. By the late 1960s and 1970s, local surf clubs began to form, with teenagers waxing their boards outside corner stores. Surf shops and board shapers popped up, and a new kind of wave riding entered the scene.

Galveston surf can be choppy, foamy, and sometimes inconsistent. And not to mention, the waves aren't exactly massive; in the summertime, there aren't very many waves at all. The Gulf can be pretty much flat for weeks. Hardcore surfers began looking for something a little more consistent. In the late 1960s, words started to spread about a strange surfing phenomenon, noth happening on the beach but in the ship channel.

When massive tankers moved through Galveston Bay, they displaced enormous volumes of water, pushing out long rolling waves, most of them big enough to ride. I mean, really ride. Unlike short ocean breaks, these waves could roll for up to five miles. This became known as tanker surfing, a uniquely Texas twist on the sport.

Surfers started studying tide charts and shipping schedules like scientists. They would hop onto small boats, follow a giant vessel, and drop in on a clean, almost endless wave carved out by steel and physics due to Galveston Bay's extremely shallow water and very deep ship channel. Galveston Bay is one of the only places in the world to experience a wave this long. Depending on the tide, these waves can normally be three to four feet tall, but if the ship is large enough and moving at the right speed, you can see waves up to six feet tall.

By the 1980s and beyond, surf shops, clubs, and camps helped shape a growing culture; Wave reports and board wax were passed down like heirlooms. Surfing along the Texas coast stretches far beyond Galveston from South Padre's jetties to Matagorda Beach breaks. Surfers across the state have long embraced warm Gulf water, unpredictable waves, and each other. But Galveston remains one of the oldest and most persistent surf towns in Texas.

Today, surf camps and after-school programs help bring new generations to the water. Social media connects local surfers and lets them showcase their sessions to the world. But the roots stay the same. Respect the water, share the waves, and keep the lineup friendly. That sense of community has only grown stronger with local festivals that celebrate more than just surfing events that bring together wave riders, artists, musicians, and families in a laid-back celebration of island life; it's not so much about the big waves but more about the big vibes. Blending surf and Texas culture.

For many Galveston surfers, it's not about perfect conditions. It's about rhythm, connection, and escape. Paddling into the Gulf offers peace, challenge, and a moment of clarity right in the heart of Texas. Surfing isn't just a sport; it's a way of reading the water, connecting with the coast, and living with rhythm. That rhythm is now being archived and celebrated in new ways. The recently opened Texas Surf Museum on Galveston Island helps preserve the stories of the Gulf's Wave riders. It's a physical space that honors the intangible feeling every surfer knows the moment they paddle out. For those curious about the broader story of surfing along the Gulf Coast, check out the Texas Surf Museum, a vibrant addition to Galveston shoreline culture. It chronicles the evolution of board writing from ancient Hawaiian Olo boards to Texas-built fiberglass and wooden models, spotlighting local legends and the Gulf's unique surf scene.

Galveston's surf culture is alive and well. If you walk along the sea wall in Galveston today, you'll see surfers dotting the waves, paddling out, and carving the Gulf's shallow swells. From dawn, patrol, longboarders gliding across the sea wall breaks to kids catching their first waves in summer camps. The waves may be humble, but the passion is deep.

Today, that passion spills out of the water and into the culture of the island. From surf festivals, blending music, art, and competition to a growing community of storytellers, board shapers, and wave chasers. Galveston's surf scene continues to evolve, but it never strays far from its roots. The Galveston Surf story isn't a copy of California or Hawaii. It's something all its own. Here's to those who never stop chasing that perfect waist-high wave.