April is the month the sources put a number on, and both Tofo breaks return the same one: eleven clean days out of thirty, seven blown out and twelve too small. That the beach and the point four hundred metres away report identical figures tells you they are reading one cell of a forecast grid rather than two waves, so treat it as a description of this stretch of coast rather than of either break.
The number worth stopping on is the twelve. On most coasts the days you lose go to wind; here the largest single share goes to swell that never showed up, which is Madagascar's shadow written as a fraction of your week. Eleven clean days out of thirty means a seven-day trip should expect two or three that work.
That is not a reason to stay away, but it is a reason to know what else is here. Tofo runs on diving as much as surfing, and a flat April day is a whale shark day rather than a wasted one.
