Swami's: One Local's Perspective
by Gary Taylor
posted 2003-09-15

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Swami's is many things to many people. I joke that Swami's is my life, my soul, my home, my backyard, my gym, my shrink's couch and I share that distinction with 600 other people (sometimes I need a shrink AFTER surfing Swami's). It's a common state of affairs for surfers whose home break also happens to be one of the best waves within a hundred mile radius, and on occasion, one of the best waves in the world.

When it's on, Swami's is the best of all worlds: a classic reef break with point break tendencies. But unlike a world-class point, the wave delivers subtle nuances that challenge your timing and performance more so than Rincon, J-Bay, Raglan, Punta Pequeña, and other machine points. (Okay, so what do I know, I haven't surfed Raglan.) The spectacular headland once known as Noonan's Point watches over a stepladder of sandstone reefs that deliver a wave that has been widely referred to as California's toned- down version of Sunset Beach: big peak, wide open shoulder, merging into a critical section that catapults you into a classic point set-up. I have yet to see it closeout, and that's a 30-year stretch.

On good days, Swami's has it all, and contrary to a lack of core surf media coverage, it's no secret. I can say this without fear of retribution from the locals, because brother, I am a local, and the Swami's crowd has reached critical mass even on the shittiest days.

Located in the eclectic beach town of Encinitas in north San Diego County, Swami's hasn't been a secret since at least the early 1960s, when she was featured in John Severson's "The Angry Sea," establishing Swami's as an "in" spot. At the time, Phil Edwards, Rusty Miller, and L.J. Richards were the top locals. "On a December day in 1962, the waves at Swami's were 15' and there were 50 guys out," recalls old school local Steve Anear, a two-time president of the Swami's Surfing Association. "From then on, Swami's was considered a world-class wave."

The beach and ultimately the surf spot were named for Paramahansa Yogananda, the Indian Swami who founded the Self-Realization Fellowship Retreat and Hermitage (SRF), which encompasses 17 lush acres of priceless oceanfront real estate standing guard over (occasionally) one of the best waves in the world. It is widely believed that Yogananda first became enraptured with the blufftop property during the 1930s when he spotted a pod of dolphins frolicking beyond the surf line. He founded the hermitage in 1937 after the property was given to him by James Lynn, a dedicated follower of Yogananda's teachings.

For some reason, the SRF has resisted selling out to condos or a five-star resort. Swami's Point remains a pristine sanctuary of palms, manicured lawns and Monterey pines framing a collection of classic Old California bungalows. The hermitage overlooking the point is private, although an awesome botanical garden is open to the public.

Once I was given a private tour of Paramahansa's personal cottage. After checking my spot (over the years) from the parking lot or from the boneyard lookout or south from the highway, it was the first time I had the opportunity I came straight-on face to face with my second home, a totally different perspective that gave me the Twilight Zone chills. Visitors regaled in full Indian garb are not an uncommon site, even on the beach.

In the 70s, before the winter of '82-'83 took the sand away, us kids played two-man volleyball with the lifeguards. It was a county beach then. We got pretty good at v-ball and scamming chicks in the summer. On selected holidays lifeguard John Hunt would bring down his Miles Davis records and blow jazz from the tower speaker. Thinking back, it was surreal, definitely not regulation. They were simpler times.

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