Foiling has exploded. What started as solo sessions and empty line-ups has become something bigger than we ever imagined. More riders, more energy, more moments shared on the water. Whether you’re linking bumps miles offshore or threading through a packed lineup, visibility matters. We talked to our riders to hear their perspectives on the importance of visibility.

 

Anna Kalabukhova’s story takes place in Hawaii, on Thanksgiving. “The forecast said 30 knots, and we thought, great, let’s go. We noticed the wind was too north and gusty – not good for that run as once you jump off China Walls, you get swept straight out. We didn’t have phones or backup, but we just went. My friend couldn’t get up on foil, and I was barely able to. We were getting pulled further and further out. It was stormy and no one was on the water as everyone was with their families.

 

 

It was stormy and no one was on the water as everyone was with their families. I managed to spot the only dive boat out there and started waving.

I managed to spot the only dive boat out there and started waving. I was lucky I wore bright yellow that day. They told me they saw a colourful spot in the water and came over. My friend? He was in all black. They couldn’t see him at all. It wasn’t until I got to shore that I realised how bad it could’ve been. Since then, I have never gone without a bright top, my phone, and proper safety. The ocean doesn’t care if you’re experienced. Stuff goes sideways fast.”

 

 

Bowien van der Linden shared how much of a difference being visible has made for her dad’s peace of mind. “I do a lot of downwinders in Cape Town, you’re often out there alone, way out. It’s easy to be mistaken for someone else. On the days when my dad can’t join me, he drives along the coast and tracks me with binoculars. Before I started wearing my high vis, he found it difficult to track me down the coast. He even managed to meet the wrong person at the end of my run. Now my high-vis is an essential part of my foiling kit.

 

 

Julia Mancuso remembers a very similar story from her session in Fiji. “I went out for a wing foiling session, and the wind just completely died. I started floating, totally stationary, while the current started pulling me out through a channel, away from the island I launched from. That’s when it hit me: no one was watching. I didn’t bring a phone. No backup. Nothing. One of the things about foiling is that everything feels so good when it’s working, until it isn’t. And when it isn’t, you’ve got to be prepared.

That’s when it hit me: no one was watching. I didn’t bring a phone. No backup. Nothing.

Had I not been seen that day, it would’ve been a very, very long swim home. The conditions can shift so fast. It doesn’t matter how confident you are or how well you know the spot.”

 

 

These stories aren’t one-offs. At some point in your foiling journey, the unexpected will happen. Armie Armstrong, founder of Armstrong Foils, has spent more time on foil than anyone we know. He has seen it all. "We were ten miles out, training for a big crossing. It only took two minutes to lose sight of someone. That’s when you realise, it doesn’t matter how experienced you are. Out there, even a short gap can turn into a real problem. Wearing high-vis is the simplest thing you can do to help your crew spot you, or avoid you, before it’s too late."

 

 

The best sessions are the ones when you finish grinning and are already planning the next one. Be safe, be seen.