North Atlantic swells break on a lonely spit of rock. The following collection of photos show the break in a variety of seasons and from a variety of angles. The slanted rock formation abruptly drops into the sea, creating a short, powerful wave.

On low tides the wave appears to slab on the outside and then reel all the way in. On high tides it’s a short, sloping shoulder. The winter image shows another right slab breaking further down the coast.

Despite a handful of exploratory surf trips to the Faroe Islands, only a few quality surf breaks have been revealed. Because of its volcanic origin, much of the coastline of the islands consists of cliffs that drop vertically into the sea. Although this type of bathymetry does not lend itself to good surf breaks, there are a number of locations that do have promising geological features. Most of these breaks remain unknown.

Think neither the square-shaped tubes of British Columbia, the groomed lines of Nova Scotia, or the heaving pointbreaks of Newfoundland. Hudson Bay is the coast that lies between coasts. Violent winter winds, an enormous amount of fetch, but an average depth of only 330ft characterize this sprawling saltwater pan. Only a handful of towns and trading posts dot its perimeter.

A sea plane will be needed to access much of the shores, and surfers will need to keep a constant watch for polar bears. Churchill, one of the main settlement along the coast, is named the Polar Bear Capital Of The World.

Belcher Islands. A strange, molten-liquid-shaped, flat-lying group of islands located in the south eastern zone of Hudson Bay look to have a coastline favorable to waves. Trees cannot grow here. The many curves and turns that define these islands would appear to create unique pointbreak and reef setups. It is unclear from the photographic evidence, however, whether these breaks will ever come alive with a solid groundswell.

Based on 41 observations in the southern half of Hudson Bay during the months of August and September, the median wave height is 1.5 meters and the median period is 6 seconds, although wave heights of 3 meters lasting 15 hours have been recorded.

“During the 1951-80 period, data collected by ships-of-opportunity in the western Hudson Bay area amount to at best about 300 total observations for a given month over the 30 years combined. Other areas have much less, particularly southeastern Hudson Bay.” —Canadian Inland Seas, pg. 96

Put simply, there is not a whole lot of information on this body of water when it comes to swell activity. The remote wilderness surrounding Hudson Bay remains a true mystery on the surf map.

[ This week starts with a post by contributor Trevor Gammelgard. Gammelgard has uncovered information about an unusual stretch of surf that often goes unnoticed and features chilly winter waters. ]

The spirit of surf adventure is alive in Denmark. The Scandinavian country sits north of Germany and boasts over 7000km of coastline on both the Baltic Sea and North Sea, although only a small fraction of these shores offer the possibility of surf. Battered predominately by short period wind swells and the occasional northern groundswell, the northern coast of Denmark enjoys surfable waves for those with a sense of adventure and a thick wetsuit. Despite the lack of crowds, it takes a hearty soul to jump into water that regularly dips into the low 40° degree range.

While some might scoff at the idea of finding quality waves along Denmark’s protected coast (see the UK blocking to the west and Norway/Sweden’s blockade to the north), every dog has its day. Not to say that the surf in Denmark is a dog…even if we are talking about a Great Dane.

Though the local crew froths for 2-foot on-shore brainfreezers, every once in a while they get a crack at some truly good surf by anyone’s standard—the only difference is, they get it alone.

This map shows Arctic Surf Blog’s recent findings after exploring for three weeks far north of the Arctic Circle. There are over twelve surf breaks along this remote section of coast, and almost certainly more in either direction. It is difficult to say how many perfect setups are still to be found. The photo below shows a mechanical right river-mouth bar.

Like reef breaks, beach breaks, or point breaks, berg breaks belong to a collection of surf spot categories named after their bathymetric features. Iceberg literally means ‘mountain of ice’, and they originate as mammoth chunks of freshwater ice riven from glaciers. While still connected to a glacier, these masses of ice undergo an unbelievable quantity of pressure, and when they break off and enter the sea they often have an extremely high density, sometimes higher than the surrounding saltwater. Enough density to create flawless, icy tubes.

Photographs of surf in Antarctica are difficult to come by. Scientist and travelers might potentially take photos of waves, but they typically hold to coastlines with little wave activity for safety reasons. Additionally, vast tracks of sea ice block swell and reduce the amount of fetch. Only a handful of surf expeditions to Antarctica have been realized, with little recorded visual evidence. Arctic Surf Blog’s research department received a link to these photographs with no other information, and further details about this expedition were unable to be found. The images are taken by Geoffrey Ravenhill.

If you have ever poured over maps of the higher latitudes in search of new surf breaks, you probably have noticed the countless curves and bends in the region’s coastlines that hint at an astonishing array of point breaks. These mountainous fingers jutting out to sea are commonly known as fjords. Most fjords are found beginning around 60°N and 45°S.

In these colder regions, lots of ice forms and landscapes become heavily glaciated. It appears as if these glaciers carved out narrow, “U” shaped valleys as gravity pulled the ice down toward sea level. These twists and turns in the coast look promising for wave discovery, but the reality is not as ideal as one might hope.

Fjords can be extremely deep, which means there is no shallow sea floor for waves to gain traction. Waves break in a water depth that is about 1.3 times the height of the wave, depending on the bathymetry of the sea floor. A steepness of 1:12 is an approximate slope ratio for a barreling wave. As the steepness of the slope increases, the wave doesn’t break at all. Instead, it surges up against the shore, or in our case a cliff, and explodes. Its energy dissipates into deeper water. That’s not very useful for finding peeling point breaks. But the opportunity for surfable waves in these regions still exists.

The arctic wave explorer should consider other geological contributors to shallow sea floor transitions. Who are these contributors? Look for river-mouths, who continually push sand outward and deposit it along the coast. Glaciers sitting at higher elevations melt as they approach sea level, and the resulting melt-water drains through a flood plain and out to sea, taking rocks and sediment with it.

Another feature to consider is the abrupt rock ledge located just below the water’s surface. This shallow fist breaks incoming lines into slabbing barrels and is commonly found in steep coastal terrain. And in general, make sure the coastline in question is open to swell, so that waves can sneak in and find an optimal place to break before their energy is lost.

Once you have found a potential fjord with waves, the next question will be how to get there. Many countries with fjords have well-kept scenic roads that zag into deep valleys and traverse through mountain tunnels, while other regions are only accessible by boat or kayak. But if you find waves in a difficult-to-access region, chances are you will have it all to yourself.

Offshore winds sweep across a subantarctic beach.

Low visibility at a remote point break.

A wind swell arrives on a Baltic coastline.

A walkway through the ice.

A drawing depicting a coldwater shark.

Various shelf and reef setups in the subantarctic. The mass of gray in the bottom left corner is a giant penguin colony.

Two people run to escape a stormy afternoon.

Two surfers discover an ice-cold rivermouth sandbar.

Crags, fogs, and cliffs.

More offshore winds in the subantarctic.

The photo above shows another angle on the wave seen in the ‘End of the World’ clip. The question is, is this break actually ‘in the middle of nowhere’?