The timing is good for the release of Maya And The Wave - the story of pioneering big wave surfer Maya Gabeira. Female surfing is sharply in the ascendancy and with that comes against-the-odds stories from the first wave of female surfers.

Yet unlike, say, Girls Can’t Surf, the 2020 documentary about female pro surfers agitating for equal inclusion in surf contests, Maya And The Wave deals with big waves, a lonesome pursuit that relies more on individual motivation than group dynamics.

This makes for storytelling with a human touch, something that director Stepanie Johnes bites down hard on. I know little about Johnes, it’s her first foray into surfing, but visiting her website I read that she “gravitates towards stories of underdogs and dreamers.” In Gabeira she finds both.

Growing up in Brazil, Gabeira was the first in her family to surf. At 14-years old she saw some boys in the waves and, she says, “it looked like magic…the first time I carried a surfboard I felt like I belonged to something.”

Maya’s father Fernando Gabeira is a respected former politician, one of the few honest politicians, we’re told, in a corrupt country. Fernando’s idealistic outlook colours Maya’s launch into surfing where she expects equal treatment but struggles to find it.

“Maybe I was ahead of my time,” says Maya, “doing such a male-dominated sport and thinking it was going to be normal.”

A late starter, Maya lacks the talent to make it as a small wave professional, so she shifts focus and is subsequently picked up by a Red Bull as a big wave surfer. Or more specifically, an XXL wave surfer, the first female to commit to them since PWCs changed the sport.

Red Bull introduces her to Brazil’s best big wave surfer, Carlos Burle, and the duo make a formidable team over the next few years. An accident at Teahupoo is the first bump in the road and despite past triumphs it puts her in the cross-hairs of vocal critics.

Maya plays it with diplomacy, offering no names even though it’s abundantly obvious who she’s referring to when she says: “A guy who was one of the inventors of tow surfing stopped me and said I was making the sport of tow surfing look really, really bad.”

Director Stephanie Johnes doesn’t lean into the feminist thing too hard, and viewers can be thankful for that. Johnes also shows Maya to have an ego as healthy as any alpha big wave bloke. Which is not a criticism by the way, it takes self-belief to operate out on the edges, and Maya has it in spades.

The criticism gets louder after a dramatic rescue at Nazare that nearly claims her life. At this point the movie splits into various quarrels: Maya vs Carlos Burle; Carlos Burle vs public decency; Maya vs her own body; and then the last showdown, the one that gives the movie its title, Maya vs the WSL.

Much of the film deals with Maya’s recovery after the Nazare wipeout, and also the preparation for her return to Nazare when she rides a wave that’s deemed to be the largest ever ridden by a female.

It would’ve been nice to see Maya satisfied by that conquest. Yet as she says, “It felt really awesome…for a very short time.” Maya spends far more time seeking affirmation of the ride, specifically getting the WSL to confirm it as the largest wave ridden by a female.

Johnes prods Maya: “Do you need the recognition?”

“I don’t know,” is her reply, yet she clearly does. See point above about the ego of big wave riders.

By the same token, having the ride confirmed as the largest ever cements her place as one of the greats, and also an idol for the younger women now coming through.

It’s those young women, and their parents, who’ll have the most interest in Maya And The Wave.

// STU NETTLE

Upcomig dates for Maya And The Wave.