Could life ever get any better? Back then I didn’t think so, I was in love with surfing. These were my clean bliss days. I was young, innocent, untouched. For Christ’s sake, I hadn’t even been kissed! I had no idea about anything bad in the world. I was a child/woman, beautiful, trusting, fearless and I wanted to surf so badly every day.
When I went to bed at night I would fantasize about a secret surfing life with massive waves, and I’m talking Sunset Monsters… off Queenscliff !!! And man, did I CARVE. I’d get so deep inside the tube, I could smell, and feel, and see it all. I’d do outrageous cutbacks, and 360’s, shit, I was doing tricks that hadn’t even been done. Then I’d flick off the back and catch another one. I was gorgeous of course (after all it was my fantasy) and I had a beautiful gorgeous boyfriend who I called Nigel Holmes.
Big smiles
I kept up this fantasy for at least two years; my family would ask me how Nigel was. It was hilarious really, no wonder I stayed innocent for so long. No one would ever live up to my night surfer. It was romantic and sexy and he was the world’s best surfer and I was the world’s best girl surfer, we didn’t do comps, but hell, who else could ride a wave that swallowed everyone and everything from South Steyne to Queenscliff!
You know what I love? Hot autumn cloudless days with southerly swells when the water’s really cold. There’s no one around, except silver shoals of fish. The waves are about a metre and there’s a clean offshore breeze. You’re out the back, and as waves break, the spray blows back and hits you. Everything is sparkling, translucent, and crystal. You catch wave after wave, until you can’t, you belong, and feel so alive! I think my best day like this was at Sheepstation.
