Mama Nazare Is Pumping

This was truly one of the more ridiculous things I’ve ever done. I do not recommend it, unless you have a very strong lower back and a fetish for fear.

In spring 2025, I was in Lisbon, Portugal, watching an HBO show called 100 Foot Wave. I watched Garret McNamara discover a secret spot — Praia Norte in Nazare, Portugal — where, a few times per winter, the waves grow monstrous, 50 to 100 feet. Garret figured out how to surf these swells using jet skis to get towed in and rescued. Now Nazare is the most famous big-wave surfing location in the world. And the site of countless injuries and one fatality.

Naturally, I decided I must go there.

Six months later, and I’m back in Portugal. Waiting patiently in Porto, checking the forecast for incoming swells. The app says, December 3-6: HUGE. I rented a car and a B&B near the famous lighthouse, the prime location for big wave watching.

I pulled into the old beach town and descended upon the lighthouse like a kid running down the stairs on Christmas morning. It looked exactly like the TV show. Monster rollers were coming in and crashing into the cliff. A band was playing on the roof of the lighthouse.

I looked at the waves. This is it? I’m just going to stand here and watch for three days? No way. I needed to get in the water.

I opened my old friend Google Maps and searched: Big wave jet skiing. That’s how I met Freddy Olander — a German, pro big wave surfer, who, as a side hustle, takes idiots like me out on the back of his WaveRunner, a modified jet ski that goes up to 100 mph, to outrun 100-foot waves.

The Big Show

The next morning, I rolled out of bed and went straight to the lighthouse. Hundreds of spectators lined the cliff watching the Boeing 747-sized waves assault the cliff. Dozens of jet ski pilots attempted to get a handful of mentally ill surfers onto said waves, and then rescue them afterwards, before they get completely murdered by the following set of waves.

Soon enough, there’s a flipped jet ski and multiple people thrashing around in the white water get pushed toward the cliffs. Rescue teams swarm the zone. Eventually, everyone gets saved, and the wrecked jet ski is dragged across the beach by a tractor.

I look at my phone, it’s Freddy: “Can you come now?” I put my hands on my face. “Okay.”

I run back to the car and drive to the port of Nazare. Five minutes later, Freddy arrives. He’s a shredded German with a big smile and he embraces me like we’re old friends. He tosses me a wetsuit, pulls a hardcore life preserver over my head, and next thing I know, we are speed walking across the dock.

We start motoring through the marina. A tan man on a jet ski is arriving back from his excursion. “It’s beeeg,” the man says with wide eyes. “HUGE.” “You can see them from here,” says Freddy. We are over a mile away. I see a MOUNTAIN RANGE of waves on the horizon.

Training

“What happens if we don’t work as a team?” says Freddy. “We flip the jet ski.” He whips us around doing S-turns and a doughnut with the radius of a penny. “Okay, you’re leaning well.”

“Those are the Last Chance ropes. If you miss the sled, your last chance is to grab one of the ropes.” He practices the rescue twice. When he’s done, I climb onto the back of the ski, pat him on the shoulder, and say: “Let’s never do that again.” My training is complete.

100 Foot Wave

Freddy explains that Peaks are locations where the largest waves emerge. “There are three peaks. Looks like Peak 1 is the biggest today. Oh man. It’s huge. We’re going into Peak 1 now.”

My knuckles are snow. I’m clutching a strap on the back of this jet ski behind this guy I met fifteen minutes ago, heading into the biggest waves in the world.

The sun beats down, warming the air that is vibrating with white noise decorated in thunderous rumbles — deep exhales from the Atlantic. Walls of water look like they are going to break on our heads but they don’t. Somehow Freddy knows they won’t.

“There’s Sebastian,” he points to a man in a black and yellow wetsuit. Sebastian Steudtner is one of Freddy’s German compatriots. He holds the world record for the largest wave ever surfed — 86 feet. Freddy’s eyes are always watching the water. “There’s a big one coming.” Sebastian’s driver accelerates and places him on the wave. The monster wave passes in front of us with Sebastian surfing it.

It felt like we were in the waves for hours, but it was actually more like 45 minutes.

Aftermath

Back at the warehouse/office at the marina, Freddy says, “Did you have fun?” I balk. “It was boring. Terrible time.” He laughs the laugh of someone who has been playing around in Nazare for eight years.

Outside, one of Freddy’s surfing buddies comes up: “No one is out anymore. Big drama going on. Someone’s in the hospital.” I get in my rental car and put my hands on my face, which is caked in salt. I’m so happy I’m alive.

Photos

The following four photos are of the same wave with Sebastian Steudtner surfing it. As of writing, he holds the world record for largest wave ever surfed.

Photos by Chris James. December 3, 2025.

Rainbow coming off a crashing wave, the lighthouse, and Freddy.

Freddy prepping his board.