A Fresh(water) Perspective

So, you think you’re hardcore because you surf in New York in the winter? Well, think again. Try it in Cleveland, where by mid-December — just as the waves are really getting good — you have to start worrying about pack ice forming in the shorebreak. Where your view from the lineup might include a giant smelter, a pile of coal slag or the crumbling facade of an abandoned factory. And you think we suffer bad flat spells here in New York? A Cleveland surfer might go months (months!) without rideable surf, either because the Lake is frozen or just because it’s a lake. What about short swells? We East Coast types complain about the one tide swell. In Cleveland, they get blink-and-you’ll-miss-it swells. Not “you should have been here yesterday” swells, but “you should have been here ten minutes ago” swells.

Despite all this, there is (and has been for longer than you might imagine) a dedicated crew of surfers on Lake Erie, making do with what they’ve got and making their own thing happen. Whatever you want to call their “scene,” it’s not burdened by the cynicism and obnoxious chest-thumping one associates with ocean surfing these days. It’s got a quiet, DIY aesthetic that is a hundred times more underground, more punk rock, than anything we’ve come to associate with the surf scene around New York, with its ever-growing legions of under-stoked, over-entitled, image-conscious insta-surfers. Scott Ditzenberger, formerly of New Jersey, presently of Cleveland, has spent the last few years documenting the surfers who ride Lake Erie, in and around Cleveland. The result, his film “Out of Place,” is a lesson for all surfers on how to appreciate what you have. Its a road map of stoke. The film makes its New York premiere at the New York Surf Film Festival on Sunday, September 27 at 4:25p.m. Scott took a few minutes to share some insights with New York Surf about what it means to be a Lake Erie surfer.

Andrew Heyman: Are you originally from Cleveland? If so, how did you start surfing?

Scott Ditzenberger: I grew up loving the ocean on the Jersey Shore, in Brick. I had always wanted to surf, but never learned. After high school I moved with my family to Ohio back in 1991. Now in the back of my mind, I had remembered hearing that there were waves on the Great Lakes, and that idea resurfaced. So on the first stormy day I drove up to Lake Erie. Not only were there perfectly good small waves coming in, there were a few guys out surfing. I knew this was my chance to reconnect with the water and take up surfing.

AH: It’s funny that when you were growing up, so close to some of the best surf spots on the East Coast, you didn’t surf. Do you think it’s odd that it took moving to Lake Erie to finally get you on a board? How does a guy, in 1991, find a board, a proper winter wetsuit, the right spots, and all of the rest of the crap required (not to mention consistent waves) to start surfing in Ohio?

SD: Yes, it is ironic. I mean my dad grew up surfing Manasquan, but he was always so busy working he didn’t have the opportunity to teach me. Lake Erie was my opportunity, but you’re right, getting the place wired was a mystery. I had to ransack the used boards at the shops back Jersey. They were the closest surf shops. My friend Vince and I couldn’t afford wetsuits so we just layered on warm clothes and paddled out. This didn’t really work so well, but it got us in the water for just long enough for a few waves. Eventually we scored some neon green used Ron Jon wetsuits and we were so happy. They were awful, but they got us in the water.

AH: Ha! Wearing the neon green Ron Jon wetsuit would be like hanging an “I’m a Kook” sign on your back in a New Jersey lineup. But I reckon in Cleveland, nobody would know or care what kind of wetsuit you have. Has the Cleveland surf scene, such as it is, grown much in recent years, as it has on the coasts?

SD: There was no scene. It was more of an isolated thing. Sure there were a few guys you recognized, but when the waves stopped you usually never saw them again. You lost track of them because they moved back to Jersey, South America or wherever. Then, about ten years ago something happened and we just started hanging out. We would skate, watch Endless Summer over and over again or just rip each other on the internet. It grew like some kind of support group. It didn’t matter that we were from such different ages and backgrounds, we finally had other people who could identify with this passion for waves that hardly ever come. But it is hard to be a surfer here, with the long flat spells, cold weather and small waves, the reality is that people do leave. That is something we address in Out of Place. But there is still a good, core group here. And to get back to the question, there are a lot of new guys in the water that I don’t know. So yes, the scene has grown and evolved and it is going to take some getting used to.

As an aside, my friend Neal Luoma has a campground on the lake sixty miles east of Cleveland in Saybrook, Ohio. Back in the 60’s and 70’s guys working in the factories of Youngstown and Pittsburgh, PA would bring their families to spend summers there. Neal and his best friend Frank shaped boards under the Oscar Harris label and taught surfing to a lot of those children. For a while there was this completely ideal scene going on there. There was even a surf shop close by in Ashtabula, Ohio. But in the late 70’s the economy changed, people started vacationing elsewhere, the surfers all moved away for better waves. The shop closed and for years Neal was practically by himself out there. But he stayed, and I don’t blame him. He’s got his own special corner of the surfing universe only steps away from his back porch.

AH: Of all the scenes in the film, Neal’s portion was really one of my favorites. For two reasons, I guess. First, I had no idea that surfing in Ohio went back so far and, second, because it really did seem idyllic. I gather, from the portion of the film I saw, that Neal is still surfing. Is that right?

SD: Oh yeah, Neal is still surfing. Much of the film is a tribute to him and his life in connection with the water. He can’t do winters anymore since he had surfers ear from years of cold water exposure. That’s where they have to literally drill into your ear canal to regain your hearing. But Neal will never quit. And even today you can drive up and stay right by the beach at his Surfers Point campground.

AH: Tell us a little bit about some of the other folks featured in the film. They seem completely diverse in terms of background, provenance, ability. If there’s a unifying trait among all of them, I guess it’s commitment. If one is going to be a surfer in Cleveland, does it take a level of commitment beyond what most ocean surfers would understand?

SD: Well I think we face some of the coldest weather, but we certainly aren’t unique in the cold department. And I saw a recent transplant from Puerto Rico out last December, so the wetsuits have come a long, long way. So, I think what’s hard for ocean surfers to understand is how hard it is to stay sane during the flat spells. It’s unnerving. You read the magazines, watch videos, go swimming or anything to feel that communion with the water. And then you have arrange your life to make sure that when there are waves, you’re not missing out. Working the night shift helps. As you see in the film, our main character Vince is almost incoherent at times. But other guys like Mike Miller and Sean Flanagan, they do all right. I guess the bottom line is, if you have a serious 9-5 career, you will almost never get waves here.

AH: How do people in Cleveland typically react when they see you going surfing?

SD: I have lost track how many times a local news channel rushes down to the beach when there are waves. They’re like “Wow, you can surf here!” Then a few days later another station will come down to break the story: “wow, you can surf here.” Surfing just isn’t on the minds of the local population. The lake was primarily used for industry and became extremely polluted. Over time, people just grew apart from the water. It is strange, but even in the city you can head out surfing and be completely alone.

AH: That actually sounds pretty nice after the crowds we’ve been dealing with lately. My wife is from Cleveland and her mother still lives there, in Solon. We’ve been married a long time and when we first discussed where we should live, I absolutely ruled Cleveland out because, as I said back then, “there’s no ocean in Cleveland.” Both my wife and her mother would say, “but, we have the lake,” and I would scoff. Now, every couple of years, as an enticement to move the family back to Cleveland, my mother-in-law will send me a photo from the Plain-Dealer of somebody in a 6-mil wetsuit sliding across a wind-blown, brownish-grey peak. Should I take her up on it and move to Cleveland? Why do you stay?

SD: Really, Solon? Go Comets! Listen, I’d be a liar if I said I would never leave. Twice I have been so close to moving to San Diego, very good job offers but both times I stayed for family reasons. And that’s okay because I love it here. Cleveland is a mecca for diversity, for arts and music. It is no coincidence that some of the most influential people on the planet came from Ohio. Sure the city is transitioning out of heavy industry and people have been hurt, losing their houses and their jobs. But this is also a tough place. Cleveland will get by. And there is something of a Midwest lifestyle I’ve come to appreciate. The pace of life is a bit slower, it’s like you have more time to just breathe and find yourself.

AH: Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of these condescending “mistake on the Lake” people. There’s a lot to like about Cleveland. So, how often do you guys get rideable surf on the Lake?

SD: In the fall and winter it’s not uncommon to surf 2 or 3 days a week, that’s when the winds are best. But just when things start getting good in December, the cold gets nearly unbearable. Then the lake can freeze over solid in January and that puts us out of our misery. Then if you’re lucky, you get that plane ticket out of here. Spring is not good. In the summer you can go months without anything resembling a wave. But you always have to be ready because there are no hard rules on Lake Erie. By the way it’s windy right now so I should be more succinct.

AH: I hope you get some waves! Get out there. I guess one similarity between surfers on the Lakes and on the East Coast is an almost religious devotion to weather patterns. Has it taken you long to figure out what works, when and where?

SD:  Right. We all love the local weather guys, and now the internet. As time went by we learned which spots work best on each wind direction. Still there is a lot of mystery to the Great Lakes, where even the best NOAA predictions can be way off. And it is a varied coastline here, so there still exists a degree of exploration to find the perfect spot, given the conditions. The easiest way to find new and better spots is to tailgate Mike Miller. That guy knows absolutely everything about the lake.

AH: Do you ever surf near Bratenahl? The rehearsal dinner for my wedding was at the Shoreby Club there. I remember we visited in March to look at the place and there was a big swell running. Just real top-to-bottom dredgers breaking in shallow water along the edge of a jetty. While my wife and her mom were inside talking about all that wedding stuff, I stood out on the deck of the club in a frozen wind, trying to mindsurf those waves. It looked totally uninviting. Like, if the float ice didn’t kill you, and you survived the drop in two feet of water, you might get a short ride in what looked like partially frozen chocolate milk. I take it most sessions aren’t in conditions like those?

SD: Bratenahl, home to fellow Jersey native Mike Fratello. Yes there are some good spots over there that hold nice size, but they’re sketchy. Too much hardening of the beaches there, with rocks and rebar. Not nice. I like small longboard waves, but some guys will hit up that choco-water on big, blown out days for sure.

AH: Describe a typical surfing day on the lake?

SD: Typical day would be mushy waves in the waist high range, good friends in the water, an unreal, friendly vibe. Then you thaw out and grab some good food and beers with your friends. You revel in the idea that you live in the Midwest, you’re nowhere near the ocean, but you’ve just caught a ton of waves.

AH: All surfers remember their best days, their best waves. Can you describe the best session you’ve had on Lake Erie?

SD: One warm evening in August, two years ago at Edgewater Park in Cleveland. We got some small but really glassy waves courtesy of a northeast wind. The water was still in the mid 70’s and the sandbars were just right, so you could connect for some very long rights. A lot of my best friends were there. My one friend, Sean, was moving back to California soon. He just stood there on the beach and said “man, I am going to miss this.”

AH: That’s great. I guess your memories of days like that are really dear, given how infrequent they can be. So, one thing that puzzles me is gear. Where do you guys get it? I’ve surfed in freshwater twice, on Lake Michigan (I went to college in Wisconsin), and remember feeling like my board wouldn’t float. Do you guys have your boards shaped differently, with greater volume, to compensate for the diminished buoyancy in freshwater?

SD: Exactly, there is the buoyancy issue. It really helps to upsize your board a little bit. But there is also a difference in wave energy too, it’s just not as powerful on the lake and waves are smaller. Even die hard short boarders tend to get longboards for the small days. And finding boards is not that hard anymore. My friend Vince shapes his No Na Nalu boards here. We used to have to head back to Jersey for everything, five hundred miles east. It made us feel even more isolated. We made friends with the guys at The Beach House Classics in Bay Head, and other great shops. Now the internet makes it easier, maybe too easy. You can buy a wetsuit straight from California and a board from Hatteras with the click of a mouse. And now the closest shop, Third Coast in Michigan, is only 290 miles away.

AH: Do you travel a lot? Where do you typically go when the lake freezes up?

SD: If you are a surfer in Ohio, God help you if you don’t travel. Damn that frozen lake. Jersey is my home, and I try to get back when I can. It is an incredible thing for me to hit the places I loved growing up, only now as a surfer and with a much different perspective. But I also have this thing for California. I was actually born there in San Diego and my earliest memories are of the Pacific Ocean. Jersey and California. Those are the two places where I feel spiritually connected to my mom and dad, and all of my best memories of growing up.

AH: When did it occur to you that the Cleveland surf scene would make a good subject for a film?

SD: My guys Tom and Darrin got me into film. It was their idea to capture this unique surfing culture. For me it has been the experience of a lifetime. Nine years later I am so glad to present Out of Place at the New York Surf Film Festival. It’s a real honor to be invited.

AH: Well congratulations on that and best of luck with the film. I hope to see you at the premiere later this month. Say, next time I’m in Cleveland, do you think I could borrow a board?

SD: Any time Andrew. Any time. We treat visitors very well in Ohio.

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Andrew Heyman is an attorney at a large New Jersey-based law firm who finds solace by shaping surfboards in his garage. He aspires to be like his idol, attorney/shaper Tom Parrish, but harbors no delusions of grandeur in that regard. He surfs whenever he can and still leaves his crackberry at home during pre-work dawn patrols. He can be reached at apheyman@verizon.net.

All photos courtesy of Scott Ditzenberger/Out of Place unless otherwise noted.