It wasn’t until I moved to Australia in 2019 that I truly understood the world of surf culture. Despite time spent in California, where surfing is comparably a huge part of life, I hadn’t really had much time to give the sport an honest chance. But over the past six years, I’ve been surrounded by surfers of all levels – from weekend warriors to the touring pros – and I’ve gained a deep appreciation for the raw power and cosmically controlled nature of waves. Living in the Margaret River region of Western Australia, home to some of the world’s most demanding breaks, and covering events like the World Surf League’s Pipe Pro on Hawaii’s North Shore, have only sharpened that perspective. But with this growing admiration has come a sobering realisation: the beauty of surf ecosystems is matched by their fragility.

Waves, much like iconic dive sites, are not immune to destruction. At first glance though, the danger isn’t obvious. Ocean waves themselves typically appear to be an unwavering part of any given coastline. But what’s truly at risk lies just beneath the surface. It wasn’t until I picked up Barbarian Days: A Surfing Life by Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist William Finnegan that I truly began to understand this tension. Finnegan’s vivid descriptions of Madeira – a small island that’s an autonomous region of Portugal but closer to Africa’s coast – and its legendary wave at Jardim do Mar, transported me to a place I’d never been and a big wave I’d never surfed. His words painted a picture of untamed beauty but also hinted at a looming threat.

As I read further, it became clear how much had changed since William’s experiences out in the Atlantic. Madeira, once a best-kept secret, was thrust into the spotlight as global surf culture grew. Tourism drove development along the coasts, altering not only the landscape but also the waves themselves. Jardim do Mar, once named the world’s best big-wave point break, became a cautionary tale. A seawall project aimed at bolstering local infrastructure disrupted the waves’ delicate balance, making them far more dangerous for surfers, and only truly viable during low tides.

This story sent me down a rabbit hole of research into what it means for a wave to be ‘endangered’. And that’s how I discovered Save The Waves Coalition (STW), a grassroots organisation dedicated to protecting what they have coined ‘surf ecosystems’ and advocating for their value in conservation. STW’s origins were rooted in Madeira, where founder Will Henry first campaigned to save waves like Jardim do Mar and Lugar de Baixo. Both places, with their sheer cliffs, lava boulders, and powerful breaks, became symbols of the challenges surf ecosystems face in the modern world.

In the early 2000s, STW successfully relocated a marina project at Lugar de Baixo, saving the wave from complete destruction. However, their efforts to protect Jardim do Mar met greater resistance. Promises of economic prosperity from the government divided the local community, and the subsequent protests turned hostile. Despite the coalition’s determination, a smaller seawall was constructed, altering the waves’ legendary status and leaving them only partially intact. For many surfers, the magic of Jardim do Mar has been irrevocably changed.

Inspired by their work, my team and I set out to connect with the powerhouses behind STW to better understand their mission. This journey took us to Portugal, specifically the Azores archipelago, where they continued their groundbreaking efforts in the very country that first sparked their cause. By coincidence, our visit aligned perfectly with STW’s annual Save The Waves Film Festival, a celebration of short films that explore the critical intersections of surfing and conservation.

It was 5am, and darkness still enveloped São Miguel when the CEO, Nik Strong-Cvetich, arrived at the Solar Branco Eco-Estate. Tucked into the heart of the island, the estate was an ideal meeting spot – close to São Miguel’s surf breaks, where Nik had been posting up, and its renowned dive sites, where we were documenting marine life. Nik, who had travelled from Santa Cruz, California, was there for the same reason as we were: to get closer to these waves in order to confront the growing urgency to protect them.

Nik explained that surf ecosystems represent a rare intersection of oceanographic conditions, biodiversity, and human culture, all converging to create the world’s surf breaks. These unique environments are shaped by a range of natural features – coral reefs, rocky bluffs, river mouths, and dune systems – that form the conditions for rideable waves. Yet, they are exceptionally rare, with only about 5,000 known surf ecosystems worldwide. Beyond their role in creating waves, these areas also serve as biodiversity hotspots, offering critical habitats for endemic and endangered species.

Nik emphasised that surf ecosystems are as much about people as they are about nature. “These places are not just ecologically important,” he said. “They’re a source of well-being for people. And the sport of surfing ties directly into that.” Each surf break fosters a distinct culture, economy, and community, intertwining ecological and human value into a compelling case for conservation. Protecting these surf ecosystems doesn’t just save waves – it preserves the cultures, livelihoods, and natural heritage that thrive around them.

So how does it work exactly? STW employs a systematic, collaborative approach that begins with mapping regions to identify critical overlaps between strong surf communities and biodiversity hotspots. However, STW only does their work where they’ve been invited. Whether creating protected areas, organising stewardship projects, or launching targeted campaigns, every initiative is built on the involvement and invitation of local stakeholders. “Our theory of change relies on three core elements,” Nik explained. “Creating protected areas, establishing effective management through stewardship, and most importantly, mobilising local communities.”

Protected areas establish legal boundaries, defining what can and cannot happen within sensitive zones. Stewardship initiatives go beyond regulations, addressing ongoing issues like water quality, coastal erosion, and pollution. And local engagement ensures that the people living in these regions have a stake in maintaining the health of their ecosystems. “Without community engagement, conservation efforts fail. But without legal frameworks, you can’t make real, lasting change either,” Nik emphasised.

In the Azores, this collaborative model relies heavily on STW’s local coordinator, André Vasconcelos Avelar. André has played a pivotal role in uniting the archipelago’s scattered surf communities, fostering cooperation and a shared sense of purpose. Local surfers, like André’s network, contribute invaluable knowledge and a deep connection to the ecosystems they inhabit. Meanwhile, environmental NGOs bring the technical expertise needed to address complex challenges, and businesses tied to the surf industry help amplify the mission. Partnerships with local governments provide regulatory support, while academic institutions deliver research critical for evidence-based strategies.

Nik went on further to explain: “None of this works without every piece of a local community being invested. They’re the ones driving the change, but they need resources and broader support to make it happen. But that’s where we come in.” By weaving together these key stakeholders, STW has created a holistic model that not only safeguards individual surf spots but also protects the interconnected ecosystems and communities that depend on them.

After parting ways with Nik, we headed to the Save The Waves Film Festival at Vulcana Cervejeira, a local brewery in São Miguel and the space quickly came alive as São Miguel’s surf and conservation community filled in. The festival’s lineup featured powerful films that explored the intersection of surfing and environmental stewardship, with stories spanning California, Indonesia, Australia, Chile, Mexico, Morocco, and Portugal. Among the highlights was a film featuring Portuguese surfer Miguel Blanco, whose pivotal role in preserving Ericeira’s iconic waves exemplifies the impact of STW’s work on the mainland.

From André’s perspective, Miguel’s story is a testament to how STW has reinvigorated surf conservation across Portugal, including the Azores. The archipelago’s waves, known for their raw and untamed power, are some of the most exhilarating in the world. Located in the heart of the Atlantic with nothing else around them, these islands experience unimpeded swells delivering an unparalleled surfing experience for those who are able to seek it out. Among the standout breaks is Fajã da Santo Cristo on São Jorge – a dream wave celebrated for its perfection and sought after by surfers worldwide.

Like many remote destinations, the Azores struggles to balance its natural beauty with the pressures of growing tourism. André reflected on this tension by saying: “While preservation rules are vital, the influx of tourists could overwhelm the islands.” With a population of just 250,000, the Azores hosted three million tourists last year, a surge that strains infrastructure, resources, and the environment. Even meeting basic needs, like water consumption, poses significant challenges.

For André, the solution lies in sustainable growth, a principle at the very core of STW’s mission. Tourism must respect the unique capacities of each island. São Miguel, with its robust infrastructure in comparison to the other eight Azorean islands, can handle more visitors than its smaller neighbours like Graciosa, home to just 4,000 residents. “Without balance, we risk losing the very essence of what makes the Azores extraordinary,” André said. “We’ve already lost too many waves. Now, it’s about acting smarter – developing in a way that preserves our natural heritage while allowing communities to thrive.”

After watching Miguel Blanco’s inspiring performance in The Passenger 2, we were eager to learn more about his connection to surf conservation. The film follows Miguel through 2023 and 2024, beginning and ending in Portugal, where the rugged landscapes and legendary waves of his homeland fuel his passion and drive. Our curiosity led us to Ericeira, home to Europe’s first World Surfing Reserve, to meet Miguel and learn about his role in protecting this iconic 5-kilometre stretch of coastline. Ericeira’s designation as a reserve has successfully curbed unchecked development, preserving its world-class waves while fostering a balanced relationship between tourism and the local community.

At the core of the World Surfing Reserve (WSR) program, also created by STW, is the development of comprehensive management plans to safeguard surf ecosystems for generations to come. Created in 2008, there are 13 WSRs across the globe, with other locations in Australia, California, Mexico, Peru, Costa Rica, Chile, El Salvador, Brazil and the United Kingdom. In Ericeira, this has meant halting the construction of a golf course, regulating the proliferation of surf schools, and addressing coastal erosion to protect the natural landscape. Investments in critical infrastructure, like advanced water treatment systems, have ensured the region can sustainably accommodate its growing number of visitors while minimising environmental impact.

We shared coffee while looking out onto Ericeira’s pristine reserve and Miguel, now an STW ambassador, reflected on how the area has become a global model for surf conservation. “These reserves,” he explained, “aren’t just about protecting waves – they’re powerful educational tools that connect generations. Before STW, there was a big gap in knowledge, but now, there’s a space where everyone – from seasoned surfers to newcomers – can come together to learn and protect what we all care about.”

Miguel’s own journey into surf conservation deepened after attending the STW film festival in 2021. Inspired by what he learned, he traveled to iconic surf destinations and other WSR locations like Santa Cruz and the Gold Coast. But it was in Uluwatu, Indonesia, that he encountered the heavy consequences of neglect: polluted waters, devastated habitats, and a surf culture overwhelmed by unchecked tourism. “Seeing the chaos in Uluwatu was a wake-up call,” Miguel admitted. “It made me realize just how critical reserves are in creating solutions that work for both the environment and the surf community.”

Ericeira’s designation as a World Surfing Reserve has brought undeniable benefits—protecting its legendary waves and ocean ecosystem—but it hasn’t come without challenges. Surfers and tourists from wealthier regions like Europe, Australia, and the U.S. have flocked to the area, driving up costs and reshaping the local community. And Miguel acknowledged this complexity: “The reserve brings control and protection, but it also changes the dynamics of the local community.” Even so, thoughtful regulation and strong local engagement have enabled Ericeira to thrive. Without the reserve, unchecked development could have ravaged the waves, water quality, and the very culture that makes this place so special.

For Miguel, the work doesn’t stop at the reserve’s designation. The real challenge lies in education – particularly within the hundreds of surf schools introducing beginners to Ericeira’s waves. “Imagine if every person who came through these schools truly understood what it means to surf in a World Surfing Reserve,” he said. “It would transform the way they see their responsibility to the environment.”

After two weeks immersed in the world of surf ecosystems, endangered waves, and the principles of World Surfing Reserves, we began to see waves in an entirely new light. Visiting places like Ericeira and the Azores is more than chasing perfect swells. It’s a chance to grasp the delicate balance that makes these destinations exceptional. As Miguel so aptly put it: “We’re all in the same boat, fighting for the same waves. If we work together, we can protect them – not just for now, but for the long run. The next generation not getting a chance to surf? That’s simply not an option.”