Maverick’s, the wave that wasn’t meant to exist, breaks on a shallow pinnacle of rock a mile offshore the little fishing community of Half Moon Bay. It’s heavy up there, Great Whites patrol the lineup, the rocks eat boards and it’s cold.
On this gnarly wipeout, psycho Mav’s charger Shawn Dollar falls for the classic two step nailing. He gets hung up in the lip, fights the wind, gets into the wave only to be bounced off by a lump of chop. It’s ugly, it’s cold and this wave probably took him deep.