During my graduate studies at the University of California, San Diego, long hours in the laboratory were often stressful, and not just because of the research. Most of my anxiety came from looking out the window at perfect surfing conditions and realizing I didn’t have much time to finish my experiments and leave while the ‘waves were firing’.

Several years on, I am now an assistant professor at the School of Ocean Futures at Arizona State University (ASU), working from Hilo, Hawaii, where I balance scientific research with my second job: travelling the world as a non-competitive professional surfer. Also known as a free surfer, I ride a variety of board designs — from conventional wooden surfboards to modern big-wave ‘guns’ — and produce social-media content, such as photos and videos, in exchange for endorsement opportunities.

My research is also deeply connected to the ocean. I study coral microbiomes, sampling the community of microorganisms living on and in the coral before and after environmental stress to improve understanding of reef health and the sea-bed formations that create waves, referred to as surf breaks. In May, my colleagues and I reported on the importance of creating a framework to analyse systems with environmental, social and cultural components to protect surf ecosystems¹.

In my faculty position, I work in nine-month appointments, and I am permitted to spend a number of work hours each calendar year on non-conflicting outside business. I spend roughly 85% of my work year on research and teaching and 15% on surfing assignments.

Many careers are no longer confined to a single discipline or identity, and some of the most meaningful work now happens at the intersection between different skills, communities and ways of thinking. Surfing shapes the questions I want to ask as a scientist, while science provides me with ways to understand and protect ocean environments. When I was a student, I used to worry that I would have to choose between surfing and science. Today, my career exists because I didn’t.

A balancing act

When I graduated from high school in 2005, Native Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders made up less than 0.2% of all science, technology, engineering and mathematics degree graduates in the United States. Today, that number remains at only 0.3%². As a Native Hawaiian kid, targeted fellowships and private programmes made university possible for me, covering my tuition and board.

After I started a PhD chemistry programme at the University of California, San Diego, in 2012, my studies became much more demanding. Courses, a teaching-assistant role, fellowship requirements and lab training would keep me on land from sunrise until sundown. Despite being able to see the ocean from nearly every window on campus, it was the time in my life that I felt furthest from it.

Remarkably, it was during the third year of my PhD programme that getting paid to surf actually became a reality. After many nights spent in the lab, I decided to set academic boundaries and rededicate time to the waves, mostly as a way to protect my mental health. I stopped measuring success only by hours in the lab. Instead, I treated time in the ocean as part of the scientific process.

Can a 'lullaby' save coral reefs from extinction?

Surfing-industry figures took notice, and not long after becoming more present on the beaches, I was offered modest ambassadorial contracts that developed into respectable budgets that let me travel to places with better waves and to collaborate with local board builders — when not in the lab, of course.

When I moved back to Hawaii in 2018, I received a US National Science Foundation postdoctoral fellowship for broadening participation of under-represented groups in biology and I began to use surfing as a vehicle for communicating coral science. That eventually led to Arizona State University recruiting me to join its Hilo-based Center for Global Discovery and Conservation Science in 2021, a position that has since evolved into my current role.

Blending the two disciplines has made my research more creative and my surfing more meaningful. It also taught me the importance of protecting time for the parts of life that keep you grounded. Whether that be surfing, music, art or family, maintaining space for your passions is not a distraction from academic work; it is often the very thing that sustains it.

Here are some guiding principles that have helped me to navigate the worlds of surfing and academia.

Collaborate with people who share your values

The best experiences come when you find a crew that wants to surf the same waves or explore the same questions as you. Some of the most important opportunities in my career came from relationships that started organically, often through time spent in the ocean and local communities, or through a shared curiosity, rather than formal networking.

The researchers, surfers, photographers and conservationists I work with are people who genuinely care about the places we study and the communities connected to them. Over time, those shared values create trust that later opens doors to research projects, publications, funding opportunities and creative collaborations. I’ve found that the best way to find these people is not by chasing status or connections but by consistently showing up in the communities and places that you genuinely care about.

Protect time for the interests that keep you grounded