"The generation before us were the pioneers, opening the door to waves we couldn't have imagined. Look beyond the pollution, the zero visibility, the bitter winds and fickle swells and sometimes our dark waters form perfect waves."

Blasted by yet another easterly. This is the North Sea. The water is 5 degrees. Surfing is not the norm in this black and white city.

The generation before us were pioneers.Chasing waves along our unique coastline. We followed in their wake. But crucially, we had the door opened for us, revealing waves on our doorstep we would never have imagined.

Look beyond the pollution, zero visibility, bitter winds and fickle swells. Sometimes, our dark waters form perfect waves.This is not a world for the faint hearted. But it’s our world, our version of paradise. Swells don’t stay around here long. They come and go like the cargo ships in these industrial rivers.

We catch them when we can. Surf from dawn till dusk. Trying to outrun the darkness, wishing for yet another blast from Scandinavia. It makes us obsessed but we treasure what we find. Striking Gold against a backdrop of factories. We surf in the shadow of supertankers.

Sharing the moment, trading waves is a tribe of surfers, bound together by a love for the North Sea. We are a motley crew, but a good crew.Most people don’t surf in the North Sea do they? People don’t but we do.

We look back at the land from a fresh perspective. We appreciate what we have. We keep searching. Chasing swells. Chasing perfection. Chasing rumours.


Cargo Collective 2017 — Frogtown, Los Angeles