Surfing isn’t always the end-all be-all in terms of happiness making
Sunny Garcia scares me. Always has.
For one reason or another, when I was a young surfer in the early 1990s, I picked Sunny out of the constellation of hard-ass Hawaiians I could have feared to be the surfing boogeyman.
Of course, I had nothing to fear from Sunny, or Johnny Boy Gomes, or Marvin Foster, or any of their contemporaries from where I lived, thousands of miles away on the Central Coast of California, with plenty of deranged beardos yelling at unfamiliar faces over wonky reefbreaks I should have been afraid of instead.
But, nope, it was Sunny who haunted me. I’d flip through the pages of surf mags and see Sunny glaring out at me through an ad. Press play on a video and watch him cleave a poor North Shore wave in half with an honest-to-god man turn. Walk into a surf shop and see a poster of him standing tall and buff in a horrifying inside Sunset barrel and I’d be intimidated, a little frightened even.
Not just because the dude looked like he could flay the skin of a haole’s back with one sideways glance, but because his entire approach to waves—powerful, consequential waves—called my hesitant ass into question. This was a man for whom the concept of “fear” could not possibly exist. His badassery frightened me because it reflected my own shortcomings back in a big, giant mirror. When I first ventured to the North Shore, my main concern was not in any way pissing Sunny off.
In recent years, however, Sunny has scared me for an entirely different reason. I had no idea he’d seriously struggled with depression and anxiety until I started following him on social media. He’d repeatedly post deeply heartfelt messages of support for people crippled under the weight of depression; he didn’t always address his own issues directly, but Sunny was clearly feeling his way through some dark mental spaces. It’s frightening to watch somebody battle the demons within, especially when that person seems like the toughest man in the world.
When Sunny ended up in the hospital this year, fighting to survive, and as rumors began percolating through the surf world that Sunny tried to take his own life, it was shocking to many, but not to those paying attention to his struggles.
But Sunny’s depression has been deeply unnerving for a very personal reason, too. At various points in my life—the mid-20s were rough, late-30s more so—I’ve walked a similarly dark path. Found life almost too painful to live at times. The darkness comes when it comes and is pushed away only with great effort. Watching Sunny struggle, albeit through social media, caused more pangs of anxiety to well up within—if somebody like him buckled when the heavy thoughts rolled in, how was I, a weakling in comparison both physically and certainly in surfing, supposed to remain strong? If Sunny could be laid low, surely I could be too. He had all the surfing community support one could want, presumably. Not to mention a place at the top of the pecking order in the heaviest and best waves on earth. Living in literal paradise.
It’s interesting, isn’t it, that surfing isn’t always the end-all be-all in terms of happiness making. Sure as shit seems like it would be. Often in the moment, it is. But there have been plenty of days, I’m sure Sunny would know the feeling, when I’ve been out on once-in-a-decade happy accidents of swell, tide, sandbar formation and weather, everybody else in the lineup seemingly in the throes of soul-brimming delight, while I, even while up and riding some of the best waves of my life, circle the existential drain. Surely Sunny and I haven’t been alone.
Surfing should help that, at least you’d think. Doctors around the world are discovering how beneficial healthy outdoor activity is to treat not only physical ailments, but mental health struggles, too. In the UK, people suffering from chronic pain or anxiety and depression are prescribed—literally prescribed—nature walks. Scottish researchers have been studying pilot programs whereby depressed people are put on mountain bikes and sent out to ride local trails. So far, the results are proving more effective than traditional psychotherapy. Hell, surfing is even used to treat soldiers with mind-screwing PTSD as they come back from the insanity going on in the Near East.
Studies have shown increased levels of Vitamin D, produced naturally in our bodies when sunlight hits the skin, can help alleviate mental illness effects, including anxiety and depression. Stanford researchers learned that simply being outside, no matter what you’re doing, quiets the brain areas associated with depression.
So why didn’t surfing help alleviate Sunny’s mental health problems, or, to a much lesser degree, mine? Well, maybe it did. There’s no silver bullet that magically stops our brains’ dark cycles of thought. Who’s to say things wouldn’t have been much worse without the watery therapy of surfing? Even besides the sunlight, it provides routine, a sense of place, of belonging.
And maybe something about that was Sunny’s problem. What’s an aging pro surfer to do when their incredible talent begins to fade? We see this often with NFL players, who struggle to make sense of life once they put down the pads, losing their identity and way of being. Perhaps Sunny has been struggling with the same problem. It’s one thing to be a Hawaiian heavy when that comes with competitive glory as well as a sense of place in the world. But strip away the occupation part of that equation, and maybe it simply feels like a burden.
It’s an issue some of us as surfers are destined to face, though it’s undoubtedly worse when our identity is wrapped up in being one of the best in the world. Our ability and motivation in the water will wane as we age. Whether or not we have another identity at the ready may be the difference between that change being welcome, and being soul-crushing. However complicated Sunny’s relationship with surfing has been, I hope that one day he’s well enough to enter the ocean again, and that when he does, he’s able to find relief, solace even, in the water.
I hope we all can.
Rose-colored Housman is a look back at some of journalist and Rock Fight contributor Justin Housman's classic pieces. Subscribe to Adventure Journal to read more of Justin's work or hear him twice a week on Rock Fight's flagship podcast: THE ROCK FIGHT.
This Housman classic originally appeared on Surfer's website on November 5, 2019.