The endless winter Even in freezing weather, surfers get away from it all by riding Rhode Island’s potent waves BY WHIT ALLEN

THE JETTIES at the Weekapaug Breachway in Westerly offer a view that on clear days easily spans the 12 southeasterly miles to Block Island. Misquamicut and Watch Hill are visible in the west. In spring, summer, and fall, small lobster boats and commercial craft bob near shore as crews work, and families sunbathe and splash at the water’s edge. On this brilliantly clear winter day, however, the wind and intense cold explain the absence of beachgoers. Only a lone surfer, it seems, is up for battling the elements, relishing the experience of a private day — a prospect not to be missed for the able and the brave.

Although it is dangerous to surf alone, wetsuit technology makes even the deepest winter water accessible. The surfer will also need savvy to handle waves forecast to be five to eight feet high in water under 50 degrees Fahrenheit. (The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s 2004 entry for this breach way warns that south winds can form breaking waves at the jetties, and "extreme caution is advised.") In a moment he unfolds onto his surfboard and surges away from the jetty. With my breath in my ears, I experience humility, envy, respect, mild disbelief, rationalization, and self-preservation He must’ve been surfing for years, I reason. He could be a pro. No way in hell I’m going out there.

While gathering my gear one-mile inland, the sound of the surf was a convincing rumble, strongly suggesting the conditions that draw surfers from miles around and provide sensational rides. At the beach, the booming waves easily exceeded the eastern jetty’s height, and they were big even in water deepened by the tide. During summer, this spot can contain 10, even 20 people, in the water with surfboards, and I am usually one of them, if I can help it. Many of these people will be beginners, participants in a burst that, on the wings of advertising, entertainment, and commerce, is once again bringing surfing from the daredevil fringe to the minivan mainstream.

Today, though, it’s just the lone surfer. He twists down the way-overhead wave, swift through cold air, over frigid water, and ahead of brute force. Behind him, in a glory of sound and white, the wave collides with the worn stones of the jetty. I quickly decide to leave, my wetsuit and board still dry, grateful that trouble hasn’t come since I’m the only help.

SURFING SURGED ACROSS America during the beach craze of the mid-20th century, and Rhode Island’s subsequent wave-riding history accelerated alongside with the establishment of the University of Rhode Island’s surf club in the late ’60s, the local headquartering of the Eastern Surfing Association’s administrative office for several years, and various commercial initiatives over ensuing decades.

The current phenomenon consists of surf shops offering hourly lessons to the curious and eager, who are equipped with a wetsuit and board, and then tutored on the basics of safety, stance, paddling, and riding — all for a price well within discretionary budgets. This comes at a time of growth in the surfboard market. Many lesson fleets are comprised of large, stable boards that make the lighter waves of the Narragansett and Newport beaches manageable for newcomers. The same shops also rent boards for the day or week and sell them. Bic Sport, a surfboard merchandiser, sold about 1000 boards in Rhode Island in 2004, according to a sales representative.

From Watch Hill to Aquidneck, the resulting traffic is plainly visible on summer days. Some of these newcomers are quite casual about their participation, living hours from shore and saving the activity for vacations. As Mike Fish of Eastern Surf Magazine notes, "There are more opportunities for start-up surfers to pursue the sport, and the sport, for these people, is now seen as an activity that is similar to skiing for a weekend in Vermont."

My history on the water was once limited to long weekends swimming in Cape Cod seas chilly even in summer, but this changed after a stint in a North Carolina town very much like Narragansett. These sorts of places — surf-towns with energy but not commotion — revolve around oceanfront life, and after seeing surfboards on pickup roofs, and in worn photos at the salt-stained bar, I thought I might try it. The presence of the swaggering sun burnt and corduroyed girls talking in slow syllables didn’t hurt, either. Seeing surfers ride hurricane-sized waves on sunny days, I knew I just had to do it.

Living in Boston, it’s only a four hour round-trip to surf in South County, and well worth it, almost every weekend for this former flatlander. A Rhode Island doctor who surfs constantly told me, with simultaneous modesty and pride, that he "can handle anything the East Coast can give." Caliber-wise, this is where I’d like to be one day. Of course, some other Rhode Islanders already dwell at this rarefied level, riding the waves year-round.