Riding the Wave Home

Riding the Wave Home

After chasing fame as a DJ, Steven Redant found his true rhythm in the healing power of the ocean.

The Stillness After the Noise

The North Sea is cold, biting, and relentlessly flat. As a child, Steven Redant spent his weekends there, shivering in the gray water, waiting for something to happen. He didn't know it then, but he was waiting for the ocean to become a sanctuary rather than a backdrop to family obligations. Back then, the water was just a place to swim. Now, it is the place where he breathes.

Steven’s path to the surf wasn't a straight line. It was a jagged trajectory that took him through the neon-drenched haze of global DJ booths and the quiet, crushing loneliness of a midlife crisis. In his forties, while his career hit a fever pitch, he felt his spirit hitting a floor. He recalls the choice he faced as a classic, if slightly expensive, dilemma: “I always tell the joke that my midlife crisis was a choice between buying a Porsche or going surfing. I used to say the Porsche was too expensive, but 12 years later, I feel like surfing is even more expensive. But it gave me the absolute peace of mind of being in nature.”

Finding the Beat

Before the board, there was the deck. Steven started DJing at 14 in a local youth center, fueled by a hunger for connection. Growing up gay in the 80s and 90s, he felt the weight of a world that treated his identity as something between a sin and a sickness. He sought the love of thousands to fill a hollow space inside. “I needed the love of many people to fill that big hole in my heart,” he says. “I wanted to cure people with my music.”

But the industry is a hungry machine. Over time, the joy of the craft soured. Success turned into a frantic scramble for fame and money, and the self-medication that followed became a heavy, dark shadow. The music, which had once been his voice, began to feel like a cage. The biggest love affair of his life had curdled into a hate affair, leaving him hollowed out.

Anchoring the Soul

Coming to terms with himself was a long, slow climb. He came out young, only to find that while the world might have guessed, he had been too busy convincing himself he was doing something wrong. It wasn't until therapy entered his life in recent years that he truly began to heal from the trauma of those early, the 80's and 90's where the community was overshadowed by the AIDS epidemic. He learned to stop hating his own reflection.

This shift in internal climate coincided with a physical one. During the pandemic, Steven moved to Tenerife. For the first time in his life, he didn't feel the pull of the next flight or the next gig. He found a home—not just a place to store his luggage, but a place with a dog, a husband, and friends who knew him without the spotlight. “I was ready to throw out anchor and just stay put,” he explains. Tenerife became the center of his world, a place where the weather is a gentle, steady constant, and where the people around him finally matched his need for real, vulnerable connection.

A New Current

Out of the wreckage of his depression came a spark. A life coach had once suggested he host surf retreats, an idea that seemed like a flight of fancy until it became a form of manifestation. When a friend from Vancouver reached out about organizing a gay surf retreat, the pieces clicked into place. They called it Rainbow Surf Retreats. Thirteen people signed up for that first trip, and the hunger for that community was immediate.

“Rainbow Surf Retreats has literally saved my life,” Steven says. He is no longer the DJ hiding behind a pair of headphones; he is a guide. He spends his days watching people blossom, helping them realize they are capable of much more than they ever dared to hope. It is a way of paying forward the support he was denied as a young man.

He curates these spaces with a singular focus on community. He doesn't just teach people how to stand on a board; he teaches them how to be present. In the surf, the pretenses of the club fall away. There is only the swell, the board, and the person next to you. It is a simple, rhythmic way of living, and for the first time, he isn't chasing the music. He is simply riding the wave, exactly where he is meant to be.

Riding the Wave Home