I stare at the waves from the Pleasure Pier boardwalk, whose glittering Ferris wheel makes a quirky beachside town in Texas look a bit like Santa Monica, California. Galveston’s low-key surf is often described as “crumbly,” which sounds like a cookie to me. But it rained the previous day, and the waves are sudsy, like a giant washing machine spilling with foam.
Galveston is not the best place to surf (Hawaii, probably). And it’s not even the best place to surf in Texas (South Padre, probably). But its modest waves rolling to shore make it a decent place to learn. The surf spots, conveniently located off beaches along the Seawall, offer a good launching pad for a sport that lacks easy entry.
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