The Outpost

The island sits in a region with a long and complex past. The Marshall Islands were once a key waypoint for ancient voyaging cultures, then became a battlefield in World War II and later a site of nuclear testing during the Cold War. Today, they remain one of the most remote and ocean-reliant nations in the world. Being here connects you to that maritime legacy. Everything revolves around tides, wind, and waves.

Beran sits at the edge of a reef pass where lagoon water empties into open ocean, supercharging downwind conditions like nowhere else. The outgoing current stacks long-period swell into big, organized bumps. Add in consistent trades and you have one of the best open ocean foil runs in the world. On even the average days, riders were logging minute-long, no-pump glides without ever touching the water. It felt endless. The bumps were big, clean, and perfectly spaced.

Inside the reef, the lagoon was something else entirely. A massive, flatwater expanse with islands scattered like stepping stones. You could wing from one to the next, carving across turquoise water and seeing all the way to the bottom, even in deep water. Coral heads, fish, and light reflections passed under your feet as you cruised silently across the flats. Perfect for scenic sessions or first flights, beginners got up and riding within hours, while experienced riders used it to work on transitions, speed runs, or just soak in the setting. No chop. No crowds. Just smooth water with steady winds.

Every day started and ended at the dock, where a group of baby white tip reef sharks, only about a foot long, glided around like they were part of the welcoming committee. Harmless and curious, they cruised lazy circles in the shallows, sometimes followed by schools of fish. At night, the dock lights lit up the water and the whole scene felt like an aquarium.

Beran is beautiful, but it also reminds you that you are far from everything. There are no quick runs to the store, no backup plans, no distractions. The remoteness adds weight to every session. You are more mindful. You communicate better. You prepare before you ride. That clarity is part of the experience. One day our group got caught in a squall on the way back from fishing. Visibility dropped, the wind shifted, and the rain came sideways. You could feel the energy shift. These are not playground conditions. They are real, raw, and powerful.

What made the week special was not just the conditions, it was the people. Some leaned into prone and tow. Others went all in on winging or downwind. But every day ended with the same vibe: everyone together for dinner, reviewing clips, and sharing stories. Progression came fast. With full access to gear and no distractions, riders broke through plateaus in a matter of days. First flights, first jibes, first downwinders. People showed up and left with entire new disciplines unlocked.

There is Starlink on the island, but most people forget about it quickly. What matters more is the connection with the handful of people you are there with, the ones you ride with all day and talk story with all night. You are not scrolling. You are watching. You are in it. The sunset is not just background. The rides are not just content. It all feels real. Beran is not just about luxury. It is about clarity, presence, and the ocean at its purest. If that is what you are looking for, nothing else comes close.