Justin Quintal‘s a humble guy. Lives a simple life based out of his home state of Florida. Jacksonville boy, proud of it. He’s got a good thing going back east, taking it easy, getting a few sessions in when he can, filling the flat spells (which are fewer than you’d imagine, up that way) with healthy amounts of fishing, a few Duct Tape Invitational’s from time to time, and some seriously hard travel to sacred places.
When the days start getting shorter, and the temps start to drop below sweltering, North Florida can have some gorgeous evenings of hot and glassy groundswell, corduroy lines stacked east into the rising sun at dawn. Here’s Quintal adventuring on a variety of boards near his home, in a moody little edit from the Gulf Coast’s Jacob Harn. Here’s what Harn had to say about the run of swell:
For the final weekend in September, Hurricane Karl sputtered back into the Atlantic — the mullet ran, the sharks chased, and the autumn light filtered all hours of the day just so.
I had intended to bounce around, to meet up and film with a few other people, but each morning we woke up to these perfect log waves. We were eager to get more and to explore this little stretch of coastline we already knew so intimately, so we drove for hours, knowing we had roughly a ninety-percent chance of getting skunked.
That’s what psyched me out most: Justin knew the odds were against us in finding waves. Yet, that ten-percent chance of finding something, anything, enchanted him as much as it did me. That kind of “against all odds” spirit is hard to break away from when you find it.