While most people fled the stormy French coastline during a week of relentless rain and howling November winds, indie photographer and filmmaker J.D. Stroud was tucked into the breakwall rocks of Saint-Jean-de-Luz, capturing 10-foot waves under dark grey skies. The 34-year-old California-born artist has quietly established himself as a torchbearer for alternative surf culture, documenting the raw, unpolished world of surfers who live to ride waves rather than chase sponsorships.

Stroud's dedication to his craft was exemplified during that 2022 surf trip to the French Basque Country with surfer Spencer Navarro and a shaper friend. While Navarro tackled the storm on a custom longboard, Stroud remained positioned in the rocks with his umbrella and camera, enduring the brutal conditions. "You couldn't even look to see him," recalled Navarro, co-owner of Lighthouse Skate Shop. "He had his umbrella up, and the tide would just shift so much, he was just sitting in the rocks."

By the time Navarro and his companion emerged from the water, they found Stroud walking to their rental car, completely soaked and shivering, with an inside-out umbrella in one hand and his camera in the other. "We get to the car and he's shaking, and he, like, can't talk," Navarro remembered. "His umbrella is just completely upside down, like he's about to fly away." When asked what happened, Stroud simply explained through chattering teeth: "I wanted to film you guys."

That storm session produced one of Stroud's most cherished surf memories, which he later immortalized in his 2022 surf film "Magenta." "Spencer paddled out on a 10-foot longboard, on a single fin," Stroud recalled, emphasizing how ill-advised longboarding is in such conditions. "And God, he pulled into one wave switch-stance, and got one of the most beautiful barrels on a longboard I've ever seen." The moment perfectly encapsulates Stroud's approach to surf photography – capturing authentic, unscripted moments that reveal the true spirit of surfing.

Stroud's journey began in Orange County, where he spent his youth roaming beaches unsupervised, with strangers handing him boards and urging him to paddle out. At 19, he lived in a cave for a summer near Sunset Cliffs, working odd jobs between surf sessions. "From a young age, I had a serious obsession with documenting things," he explained, citing legendary surf photographers Art Brewer and Taylor Steele as early influences. His life quickly became anchored around surfing and skateboarding, shaping his unique perspective as what Navarro describes as "an old-school skate filmer turned surf photographer."

Now based in Topanga, Stroud focuses on what he calls "alternative subsects, cliques, and niches within the surfing diaspora of Los Angeles County." His subjects represent a diverse melting pot of characters – painters, creative executives, construction workers, and drifters who have structured their lives around surfing. "There's so many people who congregate together to surf a specific location, who come from so many different backgrounds," Stroud explained. "It's a melting pot of strange characters who all come together to do one thing."

What sets Stroud apart from mainstream surf photography is his deliberate rejection of the professional surf world as subject matter. While he respects professional surfers as "the absolute best of the best" who have "worked extremely hard," he finds the commercial scene lacks the authenticity he seeks. "There's a lot of beaches in California now where you do show up and there's 15 to 20 guys with telephoto lenses, sitting in the exact same spot, taking the same photo of the same surfer," he observed. "And, to me, it seems jaded."

Instead, Stroud gravitates toward the more colorful non-professional world, where creativity flourishes without commercial constraints. "A lot of the more creative, alternative surf world rides things that a professional surfer on the circuit would never ride," he noted. "If you go to Malibu, you'll see guys on mid-lengths, with single fins, twin fins, and weird, funky boards they made themselves." He's particularly drawn to their distinctive style – the way they lay into turns on longboards or maintain position in the pocket while nose-riding.

Stroud's photography style reflects his subject matter – candid, unprocessed, and authentic. His work features grainy textures and blurred motion that oppose the crisp, clean aesthetic of commercial surf photography. "I kind of only choose to use a camera when people are unaware of me using it," he explained. "I have never really had to edit a photo. I don't know if that's bragging, or if that's naive. It's just honest photography." He carefully selects his moments, serving as a documentarian rather than a director.

This approach stems partly from Stroud's concern about exploitation within surf culture. He's witnessed photographers stage shoots with alternative surfers, only to see the images used on billboards for major brands while the subjects receive no compensation. "Sponsored surfers are taken care of, they're outfitted, or paid to compete," he explained. "There's a clear understanding of the exchange: wear the logo, get paid." However, when non-professionals are used to sell products without compensation, it highlights a troubling imbalance where authenticity is mined from the fringes.

Stroud's commitment to ethical documentation extends beyond individual shoots to his broader mission of preserving surf culture's authentic spirit. He believes what many telephoto photographers miss is that the culture outside the water holds equal weight in defining surfing's identity. "What I find beautiful about surf culture is how it blurs socioeconomic lines," he reflected. "No classism exists in that community. There's no polarization that exists in that community. And to me, from an outside perspective, the thing that becomes unfathomable is that that doesn't exist in a whole lot of other communities."

This search for authenticity led Stroud to Europe in 2022, where he discovered parallel surf cultures populated by like-minded artists such as French photographer and filmmaker Vincent Lauzel, who served as his unofficial Basque Country surf guide. "Europe, I don't think it strikes people as the first place they want to go on a surf trip," he explained, "which makes a lot of the surf culture there really core and interesting." French visitors he met at Malibu First Point ultimately pointed him to the Basque region, where he found artists who place equal weight on surfing as an art form.

Stroud's work has gained recognition in prestigious publications, including Leica's LFI magazine, and he has self-published a book titled "Candid Observations in Transcendentalism." The cover features a shot of his shaper friend roaming Los Angeles' arts district, exemplifying Stroud's ability to capture the intersection of surf culture with broader artistic movements. His oeuvre is filled with wide landscapes that provide context for the surf culture he documents, showing not just the act of surfing but the entire lifestyle surrounding it.

Most recently, Stroud was featured in the fifth volume of Estevan Oriol's "Contagious Culture" book series, further cementing his place in the alternative art scene. He has also produced several surf films, with "Magenta" serving as a testament to his ability to translate his photographic vision into moving images. Through both mediums, Stroud continues his mission of documenting surf culture as lifestyle, practice, and art form rather than mere sport.

For Stroud and artists like him, the work represents more than documentation – it's preservation of a culture under constant threat from commercialization. "It's hard to find people who are actually viewing whatever beach they hang out at the most, or whatever scene they're in, as something worthy of documenting," he noted. As surf culture continues to evolve and face commercial pressures, Stroud's commitment to capturing its authentic spirit becomes increasingly valuable, ensuring that the raw soul of alternative surfing remains visible for future generations to discover and appreciate.