When Briana Attalla moved from Maui to Maine, she didn’t expect to find herself kiteboarding again, let alone falling for a local kiting community that rivals some of the sport’s most iconic global destinations. “I thought I was just here for school,” she laughs. “But being on the water here definitely made me feel more connected to the elements. It was this unexpected way back to myself.”
Attalla, now 32, has spent the last eight years carving out a unique place in the world of kiteboarding. She got her start at 24, when a friend introduced her to the sport in St. Petersburg, Florida. “I got hooked pretty fast,” she says. “I started chasing the wind and spending summers in Hood River, Oregon, which is kind of like the mecca of kiteboarding in the U.S.”
She quickly found herself immersed in the sport not just as a rider, but as a teacher and mentor. A few years in, she took a job with World Class Academy, a college-prep school for young, elite kiteboarders. “It was like a ski academy, but for kiteboarding,” Attalla says. “We traveled around the world—to Greece, Brazil, South Africa, Egypt—just chasing the best wind and waves.”
Her globetrotting lifestyle eventually led to sponsorships, though not in the way many athletes earn them. “It wasn’t about my social media presence,” she says. “It was about connections: teaching, working in shops, being part of the community.”
After three years on the road, Attalla craved something more grounded. A teaching job in Maui gave her that balance, but it was the devastating 2023 wildfires that reshaped her priorities. “I started thinking more deeply about the social-emotional needs of kids, especially in communities that have experienced trauma,” she says.
That brought her to Maine, where she’s now pursuing a graduate degree in mental health counseling at USM. Her roots here run deeper than the ocean: Attalla’s extended family is part of the Passamaquoddy tribe, and she’s directing her studies toward supporting Indigenous youth. “It feels pretty full circle,” she says. “Being here, where my family is from, and shaping my education to give back to that community—it’s powerful.”
What she didn’t expect was to find a kiteboarding scene that would rival her previous adventures. “My first week here, I met someone at Ferry Beach who added me to a group chat,” she says. “It turns out there are over 100 active kiters in Maine. I was shocked. They're probably the most enthusiastic kiteboarders I’ve ever met, and I’ve been to world-class spots.”
The Maine scene, it turns out, has a unique kind of grit. “They go out in barely any wind, in marginal conditions,” Attalla says. “It’s not about perfect weather, it’s about the love of the sport. It’s actually been really inspiring for me. I’ve been a bit of a wind diva in the past, spoiled by great conditions, but these folks just get after it. It’s contagious.”
There are staple spots—Pine Point in Scarborough is a favorite—but much of Maine’s coastline remains untapped. “You can go through the marshes, find your own pocket, and get lost in it,” she says. “It’s a choose-your-own-adventure kind of place.”
Kiteboarding here may not have the consistency of other destinations, but when it’s on, Attalla says, it’s magical. “A few weeks ago, I had a dream session,” she says. “It’s rare, but that makes it even sweeter. If you’re patient and willing to adapt, Maine delivers.”
That adaptability includes embracing newer technologies like foil boards, which allow riders to lift above the water and ride in lighter winds. “If I’m on a traditional twin-tip board, I need at least 15 knots,” she says. “But if I’m foiling, I can go in 10, maybe even less. It’s opened up a whole new way to explore.”
As the community grows, so does the need for awareness around safety. “This sport is not something to learn on your own,” Attalla warns. “Lessons are crucial. Kite control is everything, and it can be dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing.” She points to a local store, Afloat, for wing lessons, and highlights the role of a local named Scott who helps coordinate sessions, offers wind and weather forecasts, and mentors new riders. “He really embodies inclusivity, and he just tries to spread the stoke. I feel very grateful for the role he plays in the community.”
As a woman in a male-dominated sport, Attalla is used to being underestimated, and just as used to proving people wrong. “There are so many times I’ve pulled up to a beach and guys assume I don’t know what I’m doing,” she says. “And then I throw a front roll over them.” She laughs, but it’s clear that pushing boundaries is part of what drives her. “Finding my own role within this sport has been empowering,” she says.
Whether it’s encouraging women to kite or finding strength in wind and waves, Attalla’s path is one of connection across cultures, coasts, and communities. Kiteboarding in Maine may not have been part of the plan, but for Attalla, that’s what makes it feel exactly right.