It's a bright morning and a stiff southern breeze has stirred up the waves. I am with my daughter, Ursula, a high school junior in Houston, watching her catch the first of several waves on a sunny Saturday in Port Aransas (Port A). I am not much of a surfer, but I straddle a board too. For the past few years, I've tried to facilitate Ursula's growing interest in the sport. We made the three-and-a-half-hour drive to Port A to take a lesson from the renowned Texas Surf Camps in preparation for our stay at Mustang Island State Park.

A quick refresher makes sense for us both before we head to the state park, home to the fickle, fabled surf break at the Fish Pass jetties. Coaching us is Texas Surf Camps' Madison “Madi” Ray, a competitive surfer who got her own start as a camper at the age of 7. As Ray launches Ursula onto another breaking wave, she shouts “Stand up! Stand up!” Ursula stands, gracefully riding into the shallows, her face breaking into a huge grin.

I'm getting roughed up by the waves, still struggling to catch my first ride, but I cannot be prouder of my daughter.

Before moving to Texas as an adult, I had a limited relationship with surfing. My first encounters with surf culture took place in New England in the 1980s. My father dissuaded me from attempting to surf because he didn't think the waves were big enough. I became a bodysurfer instead, swimming into the break and plowing through the water with hands outstretched, until fishing eventually took over as my primary beach activity.

When Ursula expressed an interest in surfing a few years ago, I was game to make it happen.

Texas doesn't usually make the national magazine covers as a surf destination — it doesn't get the attention drawn by Mavericks in California, Waikiki in Hawaii or international spots like Tahiti. Fortunately, though, the long Texas coastline, spanning over 350 miles, has plenty of wave action. Gulf Coast beaches from the Bolivar Peninsula to South Padre Island provide fantastic days for surfers of all levels, even in the absence of the epic curls that make compelling social media reels, magazine spreads and posters. We also have a lively Lone Star surf culture as well as inland “surf parks” in Waco and elsewhere.

Over the past few years, the state has seen its longtime surf scene flourish. Our local break, Surfside Beach near Freeport on the upper coast, is one of the true epicenters of Texas surfing, and Ursula and I try to get there when we can — but we stalled out after I twisted my knee. Galveston Island has a surfing community that chases waves up and down the seawall, and veterans proclaim South Padre Island the best break in the state. Winter is the real surf season in Texas, and in those months, long rollers shaped by wind and tide can potentially crop up anywhere along the Texas coast.

“It's a big learning curve for surfing,” says Texas native Morgan Faulkner, the founder of Texas Surf Camps, who has introduced a generation of surfers to the sport. Before starting the camp in 2005, Faulkner toured the world as a member of the U.S. Surf Team, earning two national titles and 33 Texas titles along the way.

“You're learning two things,” he says. “You're learning how to surf, and the mechanics of that activity, how to stand and balance on your board. And you're learning the nature of the ocean and how to read the waves, the current and the wind … like an amateur meteorologist.”

Back on the water, Ray talks to us about identifying sets — groupings of bigger breakers that provide the best chance for a ride — and points out how the crosswind we're experiencing is forcing the current past us toward Horace Caldwell Pier and the ferry lanes beyond the long rock jetties. A few other surfers are splashing around, but basically Ursula is the star of the show. When I manage to get going, successfully paddling into a wave and gaining my feet, I look up and wonder what everybody is watching. Then I realize it's me.

Scouting the Break

Before Ursula and I suit up to surf Mustang Island State Park, I take a tour with ranger Eric Ehrlich, the park interpreter, who gives me a quick history of the area around Fish Pass. Located about 30 miles from Corpus Christi, the park was part of a larger tract owned by oilman Sam Wilson and his wife, Ada, who sold 3,954 acres to the state for the purposes of establishing a park in 1972 (thwarting private developers who wanted to build a resort). The region was already a popular tourist destination thanks largely to tarpon fishing, and when the state bought the park lands, Texas provided $3 million to deepen the channel at Fish Pass and build two short jetties. The dredging improved fish habitat, as it allowed exchange between Corpus Christi Bay and the Gulf. Soon, the structure also drew surfers from across the Coastal Bend looking for action.

“My first time seeing surfing was right here in the ’80s,” says Ehrlich, who was raised nearby. When time allows, he still enjoys catching waves. Following the Ixtoc oil spill, which struck the Bay of Campeche across the Gulf in the summer of 1979, the Coast Guard refilled the pass to help prevent oil from spreading to the backside of Mustang Island. Periodically, storms reopened Fish Pass, but in recent decades sand and silt have sealed it up tight.

On the Gulf, the two rocky groins originally built to protect Fish Pass remain, jutting into the waves where anglers gather on the rocks. Ehrlich mentions that dropping bait on a Carolina rig might land a sheepshead, but my attention is on a figure north of the farthest jetty, working furiously to catch a few waves on a shortboard. In surfing parlance, the waves are disorganized, and yet this guy is slicing across the top of the breakers like a samurai.

“The thing about surfing in Texas, you have to be obsessed,” the ranger confided. When things line up, Ehrlich added, the spot can be “mysto” (short for mystical). Die-hards keep coming no matter what the waves are doing.

Faulkner counts Mustang Island among the best places to surf in Texas. The piers and jetties closer to Port Aransas help shape the surf a little more, and the waves are more consistent at South Padre Island, but the natural setting and action of the wild Gulf, he says, keep him coming back to the state park. “Mustang Island State Park is a great place to surf,” says Faulkner. “They keep things natural, and that's what makes it fun.”

Time to Surf

We pitch our tent next to Boy Scouts from San Antonio on a sandy stretch of southern Mustang Island, where the park allows camping.

When morning breaks on Sunday, I step out of the tent to see the water roiling while a looming cloudbank blocks out the sunrise. Rather than force my teenager to rouse herself for dawn patrol, I turn back to my bedroll and close my eyes. By midmorning, nourished with instant oatmeal and coffee heated on my backpacking stove, we load the surfboards into the back of our adventure-mobile, a 2009 Toyota 4Runner, and head to Fish Pass to see if we can put Madi Ray's pointers to good use at the jetties.

Upon arrival, we survey the way the rough surf breaks around the rock groins, which are crawling with anglers. After we change into our wetsuits, we pick an inshore spot away from the lineup — a half-dozen surfers are catching waves at the end of the jetties — aware that one central tenet of surfing is that beginners should stay out of the way of more capable athletes.

It's hard to describe how it feels when you stand on top of a wave. When the board locks into a wave, it's almost like flying. I am finally able to find my balance by keeping my eyes locked on the strip of sand that forms a horizon back along the beach. I recall Morgan Faulkner's words: “You don't have to find the perfect wave to enjoy the sport.”

It's much easier to find words for how much fun it is to watch Ursula excel, as she reads the sets, works out her foot placement and flashes a thousand-watt smile when she pops up and nails the ride. As an old dog, I may never master this new trick, but when it comes to riding waves, my kid is well on her way.

While I'm having fun, I'm even happier about the fact that with a little coaxing, Ursula has been willing to spend a weekend with me as she rounds out her adolescence. As we bond together with laughter and adrenaline, I feel nearly as mushy as the waves of the Coastal Bend.

After a tasty fried shrimp basket back in Port Aransas, Ursula naps during the car ride home. Once we rinse our gear, stow the tent and put our boards up, we sit down to unpack our father-daughter adventure. Throughout her high school years, we have enjoyed hunting white-tailed deer in the Texas Hill Country, camped all over the place and even hiked portions of the Appalachian Trail. I never expected to add surfing to the list, and I'm happy we did.

With the blush of sunshine fresh on her cheeks, Ursula reports back that surfing may be more difficult than other sports she's tried, but thanks to Texas' endless summer she's ready to go again. “It's definitely one of the harder activities that I've done,” she says, adding that she also loved beach camping, exploring a new state park and visiting Port A. “It was a 10 out of 10 experience, and now that I can stand up consistently, I am going to be surfing a lot more.”

In Search of Tasty Waves

Texas surfers don't need perfect barrels, turquoise oceans and miles of white sand. Instead, we find fun wherever the swells stack up — whether that's during winter storms or summer hurricanes — chasing fickle sets, standing atop mushy waves and practicing for the day when perfect conditions arrive.

That means almost all the breaks are local. Around Corpus Christi and the Coastal Bend, check out the breaks along the Packery Channel jetties, Bob Hall Pier and North Padre Seawall. Farther south, reliable waves can be found at South Padre Island and Boca Chica. Heading north, as I discovered recently, Mustang Island and Port Aransas offer surfing spots. Closer to Houston, the best breaks are at Galveston, Surfside Beach and Quintana. And, if you absolutely need a perfect wave, head inland to the Waco Wave Pool.

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