She only made it to the round of 16, but 15-year-old Yang Siqi is already barrelling her way into the spotlight: She’s the youngest surfer at the Paris Olympics and the first ever to represent China.

Up against some of the world’s best surfers at Teahupoʻo in Tahiti, where the waves are notorious for their power and danger, Yang managed to win heats despite never having surfed there before.

“I just want to enjoy the competition and make the best of each round,” she said after qualifying for the women’s round of 16 on Sunday. On Friday, Yang’s Olympic hopes were dashed as she was knocked out by American surfer Caroline Marks.

Originally a sailing athlete from the landlocked province of Sichuan in southwestern China, Yang’s success on the international stage shines light on a sport that has been growing steadily in popularity since its inclusion in the 2020 Tokyo Olympics, where China did not participate.

For years, surfing in China had eluded official government support and remained a niche culture primarily centered around the southern Hainan province. In the early 2000s, the sport quietly grew among a small community of enthusiasts drawn to the freedom and adventure it offered.

“Since surfing made it into the Olympics, the sport has become a bigger priority in China,” Yang told Surfer.com. “We are getting the opportunity to train more, and especially overseas. There will be more pro surfers coming out of China in the future — I guarantee it.”

Over the last decade, mass promotion programs and a tourism boom in Hainan have driven efforts to cultivate local athletes and promote the sport. Following surfing’s inclusion in the Olympics, China established the national surfing team training base in Hainan’s Riyue Bay, and the sport was subsequently added to the National Youth Games in 2019 and the National Games in 2021.

And as Hainan’s reputation as a surfing hotspot grew, so did its appeal to tourists. During this year’s Spring Festival holiday, Hainan’s southern city of Wanning welcomed over a million tourists, with an average of 40,000 people visiting Riyue Bay each day.

But the inconsistent quality of waves in many parts of China presents a significant training hurdle for athletes aspiring to compete globally. To overcome this, China has been investing in overseas training camps and bringing in international expertise to elevate its surfers’ skills.

Amid these efforts, surfing veterans believe that the future of Chinese surfing will depend on balancing commercial success with preserving its burgeoning surf culture.

Ground swell

Among the rising stars of this movement is 20-year-old Qiu Zhuo, one of China’s top surfers. He became the first Chinese athlete to advance in a major World Surf League (WSL) Qualifying Series event at the 2020 Corona Open China in Hainan. The following year, he won the championship in the men’s shortboard event at the National Games.

One of China’s brightest Olympic hopefuls, Qiu’s career took a dramatic turn last year while training in Bali: He suffered severe injuries, effectively ending any Olympic dreams.

Pushing to perfect a daring maneuver on a massive wave, he launched into the air but landed awkwardly. His front leg slipped, forcing him into a painful split while his other leg remained on the board. In that agonizing moment, Qiu feared the worst. “My career is over,” he recalls thinking as his knee hit the board.

The injuries forced him to withdraw from competition, and Qiu is still undergoing rehabilitation. “I have some regrets, but it’s fine,” he tells Sixth Tone. “And I’m only 20; I can still prepare myself better for the next Olympics.”

Like Yang, Qiu grew up in Sichuan and was introduced to surfing by his father, Qiu Xing, a passionate surfer who often took him to Hainan’s famous beaches. By age 4, Qiu was already riding waves, and by 7, had moved to Hainan with his father to fully immerse himself in the sport.

At 10, Qiu traveled with his father to Bali, encountering some of the best waves in Asia and meeting professional surfers from around the world. “I wanted to live like them, traveling the world, finding better waves, discovering new surf spots, and joining different competitions. I remember thinking, ‘This can be my life,’” he says.

Unlike most Chinese athletes, Qiu also focuses on professional leagues rather than just the national team. Competing in the WSL Championship Tour — the pinnacle of professional surfing — has always been his primary goal. He finds these events more competitive and aligned with his ambitions.

The national team agreed to give him more flexibility to improve faster, allowing him to compete in both national competitions and professional events and, more importantly, to train independently of the system. When preparing for domestic events, he returns to Hainan to train with the national team before resuming his own pace.

By winning competitions and securing brand endorsements, he earns the money needed to hire coaches, travel the world, and find the best waves. “Surfing is a selfish sport. It’s more about the connection between you and nature.”

In stark contrast to Qiu’s independent path, 19-year-old Ma Wensong, a national surf athlete from the eastern Shandong province, has embraced the structure and support of the national team.

He began surfing at 14, after moving from the provincial diving team in 2018. To build the team, the province selected potential athletes from other sports to transition into surfing. Divers, with their superior body control and physical coordination, were considered ideal candidates, along with athletes from sailing, swimming, and trampoline.

“The opportunity changed my life,” says Ma, adding that it was his first experience with a sport that offered him a sense of freedom and spontaneity that diving lacked.

“I was a naughty child. Surfing gives me a feeling of freedom, and riding the waves makes me happy,” he says. “Every wave is different, and every day the waves you ride will change. It’s more challenging.”

But the shift wasn’t easy. One year after joining the team, Ma struggled to meet the team’s average performance level, often doubting if he was cut out for the sport. His breakthrough came during his first overseas training in Bali. Upon returning, all the guidance from coaches suddenly made sense, and his movements flowed naturally.

Since then, his progress has doubled, and his team noticed the improvement. He attributes this to Bali’s great surfing environment. “Previously, I might have slacked off when coaches were absent, but now surfing is my passion, not just a mission,” he says.

Even on his day off, he sometimes surfs. “Mindset is the most important thing in surfing. If you go every day with the idea of going to work, you won’t enjoy it, and you will definitely not surf well.”

While he didn’t make the cut for the Olympics, Ma is now preparing for next year’s National Games. His training routine includes morning surf sessions from 8:30 to 11:30 a.m. and afternoon sessions from 2 to 5 p.m., with fitness training on bad weather days, six days a week.

Unlike his diving days, Ma now trains primarily in Bali and Hainan, only returning home for Spring Festival.

Beneath the surface

Hainan is also the birthplace of China’s surf culture. The first surfing clubs in China emerged in Hainan in the early 2000s, and with its picturesque beaches and perfect waves, it quickly became the heart of China’s nascent surf scene.

Then, in 2010, the government organized the first International Surfing Festival in Wanning’s Riyue Bay, a milestone event that drew local enthusiasts and international visitors alike. A decade on, Wanning alone boasted more than 20 surf clubs, a number that surged to around 150 by 2024.

Despite its meteoric rise and the increasing number of young athletes drawn to the sport, Chinese surfing faces fundamental challenges in training professionals. One of the most pressing issues is the lack of consistent waves.

In Hainan, the prime surfing conditions are limited to the winter months, restricting year-round training opportunities.

This inherent limitation became glaringly apparent in the Paris Games, where Yang Siqi made her Olympics debut. Her coach Luo Yang had even tempered expectations, candidly acknowledging that Yang had never encountered the formidable waves of Teahupoʻo. “We had to be realistic about our chances,” Luo told state broadcaster CCTV.

The scarcity of consistent waves means the government must invest significantly in training its top athletes abroad.

According to Ma, Chinese surfers train outside the country every summer, primarily in Bali and occasionally in the U.S. Training in Bali is crucial as it allows them to participate in local events, typically once or twice a month. This experience is invaluable, helping Ma and his peers understand how they measure up against surfers from around the world.

According to Ma, competition among the men is quite intense. “Globally, the competition for men is much greater than for women. We may be at a disadvantage because we started developing later. Additionally, we are not as familiar with big waves, as the waves in China are generally smaller. The venue for the Olympic qualifying event had big waves, so there might have been some difficulty adjusting,” he explains.

Qiu reveals a more sobering reality: In recent years, the number of national athletes has dwindled, and funding for the team has been slashed. The reason? Their achievements have fallen short of the government’s expectations.

That’s why Yang’s performance is crucial for the future of surfing in China.

Huang Wen, the 39-year-old owner of one of the earliest surf clubs in Hainan, and winner of several domestic and international competitions, including the Jeju Open in 2017, understands the stakes. “The country is still grappling with how to gauge the return on investment for surfing, so funding remains limited,” he explains.

Huang, who was also part of a 2012 program to discover young surfing talents from nearby villages — many of whom became the core of the national team — adds: “Athletes like Yang Siqi performing well in major competitions can demonstrate the sport’s potential and justify greater investment.”

Recognizing the importance of nurturing homegrown talent, authorities have also recently implemented several initiatives to cultivate and maintain promising surfers. These include introducing training classes in schools, establishing surfing-focused institutions, and offering special housing subsidies for surf athletes.

Wanning has also been planning to build a “surfing town” since 2021. This ambitious project aims to combine sports leisure, folk villages, themed sports halls, competitive entertainment venues, and other cluster industries.

As these initiatives take shape, Ma and Qiu are busy honing their skills. Ma is diligently training for next year’s National Games, aiming to claim the championship, while Qiu is focused on the WSL QS events to secure his place in the Championship Tour.

Beyond surfing, Qiu says he also has a strong passion for music, seeing many connections between the two.

“For both music and surfing, flow is everything. Finding the right rhythm means truly understanding the waves,” he explains. “Every time you catch a wave, it’s like freestyling; you’re filling in the moves you know to match the wave.”

Additional reporting: Zhu Yingcui, Li Dongxu; editor: Apurva.

(Header image: Yang Siqi rides a wave at the Olympics in Teahupo’o, French Polynesia,  July 27, 2024.  Sean M. Haffey/Getty Images/VCG)