Maya Gabeira has been through a lot and has come out stronger. Photo: Abrams Books
When I called Maya Gabeira, she was at her home in Nazare, Portugal, just 10 minutes away from the fracture that once nearly killed her. She had just returned from a month-long stay in Indonesia and was trying to overcome jet lag.
Lately, she has been doing a lot more than just traveling to Indonesia. Although she is best known as a big wave surfer who broke the Guinness World Record for the biggest wave ever surfed by a woman in 2020, Gabeira has since become a multi-talented person. Her love of the ocean has led her to work as an environmental activist and serve as an Oceana Ambassador and UNESCO Champion of the Ocean and Youth. In addition, she has written several children’s books, the second of which, Maya makes waveshas now been published.
A documentary about Maya will soon be released, entitled Maya and the WaveIn it, filmmaker Stephanie Johnes followed Gabeira for nearly a decade through some of the highs and lows of her career. Johnes was notably present for a catastrophic crash in 2013 that nearly killed Maya and made her a lightning rod for surfers’ attitudes toward women in big wave surfing. The film is currently screening at festivals.
I spoke to Maya to ask her about the dizzying highs and devastating lows that have shaped her impressive career.
What was it like having someone there to document your greatest achievements and some of the most traumatic moments of your life?
Well, at some point (Stephanie Johnes and I) obviously became friends, because that’s what happens after eight to ten years together. Steph was always very intimate and worked very loosely, so it wasn’t very complicated, but yes, she happened to be there for a lot of the ups and then a lot of the downs, even more. Sometimes she saw it first hand.
In an interview you mentioned that you told her not to come to Nazare to watch your season and that she sneaked out and took the house next to yours.
Yes, absolutely. She did. In 2017, after it had been, I don’t know, maybe four years (since the total breakdown in 2013). I didn’t really want the pressure of the film. I was completely physically healthy for the first time, but I was still pretty traumatized. Her being there just added to the pressure and I kind of cancelled it and yeah, she snuck in.
This was around the time you were diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. What was it like to find out after you had just recovered from this serious physical injury? How did you react to having to deal with yet another thing?
Yeah, when you look at it that way, it was definitely frustrating to overcome such a big block, which was the physical ability to surf big waves again, and then get to a point where my mind started blocking me.
That was certainly frustrating, but if you look at it from a bigger perspective, I spent so many years taking care of my body but not doing the same work on my mind. When it was time to go back, it was only natural for the mind to ask for help, you know?
I imagine it must be liberating in some way because you now have a plan to help yourself.
Exactly. That’s the beauty of it, you know. You’re much more aware. You know how it’s coming, when it’s coming, and what to do about it. Then you start to develop even more tools and become more aware of it. So, yeah, it tends to improve the whole problem as well.
Photo: Abrams Books
Throughout your career you have faced criticism from other professional surfers, especially men. How has this affected your relationship with surfing and how has it influenced the way you surf?
Honestly, I don’t know if it affects the way I surf. I think it definitely puts doubts in your mind. You have to dig deep and be sure and really believe in yourself. Criticism like that from people like that makes you doubt yourself. That’s natural. Then you have to fight it.
When you watch interviews, you see that you were treated very differently than your peers. What do you think is the reason for the different reaction of many big wave surfers, especially the old school surfers, to women?
It’s an environment that used to, or in some ways still does, glorify the image of strength and adrenaline. We had an image of what we should look like to surf those waves and I think when you break that stereotype, it’s always hard for people to grasp that.
I think it was just this shock, often thinking: “What is this girl doing here?” And now that doesn’t exist anymore. There are girls who do really well in difficult waves and it’s much more about the people looking after these girls than it is about prejudice. Those were different times.
A big part of your commitment to yourself and to women’s surfing was getting the WSL and the Guinness Book of Records to recognize the record for the world’s biggest wave. Was that also a way of silencing critics?
No, I think it was more a way to recognize it, establish the platform and have a starting point to grow from there.
I’ve always been a fan of the men’s world record. I grew up watching Carlos (Burle) and his world record. I remember hearing the story at a random competition in Brazil in 2001 when I was about 15. The world record was a big deal for me and I felt strongly that women should have access to it and strive for their own world record.
How did you feel when you finally set the world record and were recognized by the Guinness Book of Records?
It was supposed to be a celebration, but it was more like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, because at that point it was a struggle, there was so much politics and so much back and forth.
For me, the hardest thing was just getting back to surfing. That was three spinal surgeries and trauma for life, and now I was trying to surf huge waves again, that was the challenge for me. Then when I realized I still had eight months of political challenge ahead of me, it just broke me. When they gave me the thing, I was like, “Oh God, can we go ahead and go surfing?”
Photo: Abrams Books
It sounds like since you came back and broke the record you don’t have to prove yourself anymore and can now focus on surfing itself.
Yes, I think that was true for me in a bigger sense because there’s the record, but then there’s just the possibility of getting back and enjoying something that became a painful memory for a long time. I think that was the biggest question for me and that was my biggest fear, not being able to get back that feeling that I loved.
Given the reaction of other surfers to the wipeouts at Teahupo’o in 2013, did you feel like you were not allowed to fail?
Yes.
This would only make training and progress more difficult, because failure is part of learning.
Yes, it was about deconstructing failure itself. I really embody the fact that failures are lessons and I have to learn from them. No one could really judge me for wanting to learn.
So The, I think my main argument was that nobody knew better than me. I should be able to make my own judgements. I feel like I didn’t give myself much room to make mistakes and that was hard because it’s not a mistake, it’s just a lesson. You improve on that and then you move on. But I doubted myself quite a bit.
Photo: Abrams Books
Do you still struggle with doubts sometimes?
No, not that kind of thing. I think time, more experience, more surfing and the ability to come back from injuries have given me my confidence back.
It must have been tough considering the reaction – people telling you to stop surfing because of the wipeouts. Everyone crashes, it’s part of surfing.
I wonder what was so bad that I was the one who had to stop? Yeah, I don’t know.
Well, you’ve silenced everyone. No one can criticize you now.
I think I made it to the other side, you know? I think that’s the beauty of it. If it doesn’t kill you, it makes you stronger. I think that’s definitely one of them. I’m sure that’s part of my journey and my learning and part of my success.
