Indian summer

Nothing like paddling out early at your favourite break where you know the waves will crank in like clockwork.
Surfing Wattegos wearing a bikini, boardies and sunblock and is my Sunday break of choice but living a couple of thousand km south means it’s the full monty; still unable to acclimatize after four years from my seven year Sydney surf sojourn, my new-ish 3/2 steamer remains the summer rubber suit of choice at Torquay Point.
This morning when I pulled in it was pretty small but still a dozen cars covered in surf stickers bearing the names of various wave-riding clubs and local niche shapers bore testimony to the salt water addition.
“It’s tiny but we’re desperate so we’re paddling out,” said a local with a grin.
Mals and longboards were go apart from an enthusiastic fish and a stand-up adding interest to the mix and causing several boardriders to wonder aloud about the current state of their ambulance cover.
But at the end of the day it was party waves a-plenty.
Storms are predicted for this evening so hopefully better surf is on the way…

Image shows surfychic preparng to paddle out at Wattegoes.

Thankful surfing

Yesterday evening at Torquay Point a couple of dozen surfers on all manner of craft were out enjoying the mild water and small, fun waves.

It was the last day of summer, the waves were breaking and everyone seemed in a buoyant mood, laughing as they rode ‘em in. Surfboards, bodyboards, waveskis, paddleboards, even the surf boast from the life saving club was out there.

As far as summer goes, it’s been a shocker – loads of rain, on-shore winds and junky conditions. But compared to what our mates in Queensland, Western Australia and Christchurch are going through, it’s a minor hiccup.


There’s so much horror and sadness in the news at the moment. Next time you go out and catch a wave, be thankful. Just being able to get out in the ocean and surf is an incredible privilege. We are so damn lucky to have the ocean on our doorstep, be well enough to paddle out and able to surf.

Springing into surfing

Not quite time to ditch the wetsuit, but spring means summer is on the way...

An azzure sky, a soft northerly and an upswing in water temperature means that surfers all along the Victorian coast are enjoying the spring waves. Not to mention calling in sick ('cough, cough, sorry boss I've got a bug'), as they indulge their surfing bug in the perfect A-frames melting in up and down the Great Ocean Road.
It’s been a long, long, icy cold winter in and out of the water and spring took a while to get going as even the more hardened zero water surfer will admit.

Now’s the time to remember to put on the sunblock along with your 3/2 and enjoy those uncrowded breaks before the summer hordes realise that now the footy has finished they can safely leave the house.

Late spring is also a good time to raise the bar on your surfing. Sometimes it's easy to settle into a comfort zone. Whether it's 3 ft beachies or always surfing your mal on 5 ft point breaks and nothing else, you can find yourself surfing the same beaches and the same waves all the time - and then you wonder why your surfing doesn't improve or maybe even begins to slip a bit.

Starting out
Once you discover your passion for surfing, it can be a weird mixture of fun and frustration, excitement and exasperation as you struggle to master your surfboard.
“When I started surfing, I attended lessons through a surf school each Saturday morning for about two months”, says Sydney surfer Belinda Glynn.
“Group lessons offered a safety buffer, we would all laugh and choke on water together and it made the surf seem less intimidating”, she recalls.
“Surfing with a grrlfriend helped me improve as she’s always encouraging and supportive”, says her friend Laura Soledad, who took up surfing in her 30’s.
“Having someone to encourage you really helps you persevere, especially through the times when you want to improve and you’d just get too frustrated on your own”.

Coach selection
Finding a coach with the right personality is as important as choosing your surfboard – get the wrong type and you’ll be floundering and miserable. Coaches are also good to return to on a regular basis to ensure you don’t lose your momentum.
“If you are really serious, think about getting a surf coach who can help you with the technical side of surfing”, says six times world champion Layne Beachley.
“A surf coach really improved my surfing in leaps and bounds”, agrees Laura. “He immediately identified bad habits and how to get rid of them and taught me good techniques which you don't get exposed to when you just jump on a board and go for it”, she says.

Look and learn
Northern Beaches surfer Sue Gill has been surfing for over 30 years and has caught waves in Mexico and Santa Cruz and closer to home, all along the Australian east coast from chilly Phillip Island to balmy Noosa.
“To improve my surfing and challenge my competence in the water I ask questions of my fellow surfers, particularly ones that seem skilled at a particular maneuver”, Sue says.
“I also watch videos of contemporary and traditional surfers of the 60’s and every time I venture into the water I aim to practice one aspect of my surfing technique”, she explains”.

Need to focus on your inner-surfer? Read The Surfer’s Mind by Richard Bennett.

Torquay surf news
For those who are heading down to the south-west coast, remember to check out the latest exhibition at Surfworld
Need to hire some gear? Or looking for some coaching to polish your cutback? Check out the friendly dudes at Torquay Surf Academy.

Feel the heat

Brrrrrrr!

If you’re surfing around Torquay at not wearing a 4/3 at the moment, then you don’t own one. It’s winter next week and despite the water temperature dropping faster than the Australian dollar, theres plenty of joy to be had surfing through later autumn and early winter on the Victorian Surf Coast.

Having a glassy dawn wave to yourself at Winki is one of the highlights of winter. Image by Alison Aprhys.

A big plus is that crowds are down – especially if you choose days when Geelong Football Club are playing at home and you’ll enjoy relatively empty waves.

However, to get the most out of the coldest season, there’s a few essential rites::

Thou shall drive to the beach in your wetsuit so there’s no excuse for not going out if the waves are good. You’re already dressed, you night as well go out and get a few.

Thou shall go surfing with a friend and encourage each other not to wuss out – it’s easy to think it’s too cold but if you know your mate is in the car park waiting, you’ll be motivated.

Thou shall enjoy the change in seasons – sure it’s colder out there now - but the sea smells more briny, the air is crisp, different sigh and birds are about and the sunrises with mist spectacular.

Thou shall have a thermos of hot coffee / tea / milo in the car for an après-surf warm up on hands and core. Honest, having a hot drink makes a huge difference to warming up.

Thou shall have a darn good hot breakfast after that surf and defrosting shower! Food tastes fabulous after an icy wave or 10. Hot coffee, jammy toast, pancakes, poached eggs and crispy bacon, porridge with berries and yogurt or a bubbling grilled ham and cheese spring to mind if not to stomach. But if you are eating out and about, think twice before scoffing a usual pie and sauce because the most goodness appears to be in the latter!

According to independent consumer advocate Choice there’s not much meat in those pies! And let's face it, so many more delicious breakafast options to enjoy.

Thou shall have two wetsuits – nothing is worse than pulling on dank and damp wetsuit. And it’s easier to pull your wetsuit off in the shower if you can wait that long to change.

Remember that no matter how ordinary your surf or the waves, it’s still the best way to start or finish your day.

Peter Ashley, Torquay’s master glasser retires

Surfboard shapers have always been regarded by their customers as alchemists, wizards who can produce the perfect board to allow them to surf the perfect wave. Master shaper Peter Ashely with his son Stephen in the shaping room. Image by Alison Aprhys.

One such master shaper and glasser, Peter Ashley, has decided to retire so he can spend more time catching waves.

Based in the Australian surf capital of Torquay, Peter has been crafting boards for over half a century. Now hundreds of beautiful surf boards later, he has decided to spend more time catching waves.

Peter started out shaping plywood hollow boards when he was 14. A few years later he was respected as a world-class glasser at Fred Pyke Surfboards, which was then Torquay's first surf factory.

Considered a highly talented and gutsy surfer in the 1960s, Peter can recall paddling into big Bells Beach waves all winter, long before leg ropes and wetsuits were the go. Evidence in the form of a famous Barrie Sutherland image of Peter surfing a leviathan wave at Bells has been on display at Peter’s shop for over 40 years. A modest man, Peter lets his boards do the talking. The result is that many of his customers kept coming back for more. His son Stephen, also a respected surfer who has been shaping with him for many years, will continue to work as a freelancer.

Now an era is coming to a close. For many years, longboards, mals and shortboards bearing Peter’s distinctive yellow hibiscus logo, have been a a popular choice along the Victorian surf coast. And for locals, there will no doubt be a rush to pick up an Ashley surfboard before the end of the month.

We will miss his shaping and glassing, but will look forward to seeing him enjoy more wave time.

Disclaimer - Alison Aprhys bought her very first surfboard, a gorgeous 8’4” mal, from Peter Ashley over 13 years ago.

Baby, it’s cold outside

Hi my name is Alison and I'm an ice-queen.

Winter has descended onto Torquay.
Not with a roaring, stormy, squally rush, but with a gentle glacial chill.
Despite the lack of wind, the drizzle and plummeting temperature mean that if you haven’t already dusted off your 4/3 steamer, booties, hood and hot-water bottle, it’s only matter of days.
Recently I was getting into my wetsuit (should have suited up before I left the house) at the point car park one wintry Sunday dawn, I overheard a rugged-up-to-the-max dog-walker say to another as they glanced over at me, 'what makes these people go there when it's so bloody cold?'I wanted to call out, “passion, my friend, passion”.
But as I struggled with the back zip and inserted my earplugs, I had to admit that it’s more a heady mixture of passion and sheer bloody determination to down the last of your coffee from the insulated mug, kick off your woolly slippers, shed a toasty polar fleece jumper hastily donned over your PJs to drag on an often still-damp wetsuit, run across sand so cold it burns your feet despite booties and relish the warm (by comparison) ocean.
Although, when an offshore westerly signals snow dumps to cheer the hearts of skiers even as it penetrates your wetsuit, snap-freezes your spine and the waves refuse to break, you do occasionally wonder what in hell’s name you are doing out there.
Sometimes it can be bleak out there in the water with the other desperados, while everyone else appears to be at home reading the weekend papers and enjoying another slice of hot buttered raisin toast. But when the swell arrives, be it at Possos, Juc or places further south, when you paddle those numb hands and catch that icy wave and tear down its glassy face, you wouldn't change your place with kings.
It takes a special kind of person to surf through winter.
OK, I’d like to think that as someone who willingly wakes before five o’clock in the morning twelve months of the year, leaps into their swimmers without even checking the surf report and
despite modern conveniences such as surfcams and online weather reports, bundles her boards, wax, a towel and a yawning husband into the car (not in that order) before driving off to the local beach with supreme confidence that today it will be pumping despite howling winds or hail; I’d like to think that this kind of person is, well, someone cool.
But I suspect it really boils down to being obsessed and as stubborn as all get out.
Sure, it’s easy to rise before dawn during Torquay’s seemingly endless summers and spend the day alternating between the glassy waves and the shade from the wind-twisted trees at Point Danger.
But come that first autumnal hint, then the non-committed turn away from the ocean and take up squash, skiing or footy until November.
Thank goodness.
Like those who purport to follow Richmond, but in reality only cheer them when they are winning, these fickle folk don’t realize what they are missing as winter surf is exhilarating time! Not only are the waves less crowded, they are heaps more fun to ride.
Fewer surfers mean less competition and a far mellower vibe.
Any foolish rivalry, either real or imagined between the tribes shortboarders, longboarders, mal riders, waveskiers, kneeboarders, standup paddlers and bodyboarders, for the most part disappears as we all sit there, hands tucked under armpits, teeth chattering together.
As you bob up and down with your fellow desperados, you feel scorn for those who non-believers who pull into the carpark, shake their heads and return home, warm , dry and without a wave to their name.
Some of the more mature longboarders even don neoprene rubber caps, looking strangely like medieval butchers or extras from ‘Monty Python and the Holy Grail’ as they swiftly paddle past. Perhaps it’s because I learned to surf here in Victoria where the water might be just 10 degrees whilst the wind chill factor you’d swear under oath is no more than 11, that I shake my head at the bleats from my friends in Sydney some 1000 km north, when they complain about winter.
Still, you know how cold it is by the time it takes for your feet to numb up - when you can’t feel your toes; it’s definitely time to paddle in.
Emerging, the wind whips through you as you pelt up the sand.
In the car park you thaw your frozen feet and hands by pouring the remains of the thermos flask contents over them or a specially prepared hot water bottle; the rick is to wrap it in a towel, then plastic bag and place it under your car.
This enables you can defrost your hands to get your keys hanging on a lanyard around your neck and insert it into the car lock without help from strangers passing by), and hurriedly place said towel on the seat so you can drive home rubber-clad. On the days when my husband has the car and I cycle to the beach, I wear gloves so I can maintain grip on the handlebars and coming back, I peddle as hard as I can to get the blood going.
Dashing inside, you jump in the shower, turn the water on hot, hot, hot and are revived in the heat rush.
Later, rugged up and sipping miso soup or tea, then gobbling porridge, crumpets or poached eggs (some days you feel so starved you’d consume it all) by the fire, you relive every wave and email or text your girlfriends about the amazing rides you caught, wiped out on and the Harvey wallbanger sunrise you were privileged to witness.
Who cares about mortgages, the falling economy, your idiot boss or newspaper headlines?
Its winter waves ahoy.
The surf is up and so are my spirits.

Confessions of an ice queen

When I was getting into my wetsuit at the Torquay car park one chilly dawn last winter, I overheard a rugged-up-to-the-max dog-walker say to another as they glanced over at me, 'what makes these people go there when it's so bloody cold?'I wanted to call out, “passion, my friend, passion”. But as I struggled with the back zip and inserted my earplugs, I had to admit that it’s more a heady mixture of passion and sheer bloody determination to down the last of your coffee from the insulated mug, kick off your wooly slippers, shed a toasty polar fleece jumper hastily donned over your PJs to drag on an often still-damp wetsuit, run across sand so cold it burns your feet despite booties and relish the warm (by comparison) ocean. Although, when an offshore westerly signals snow dumps to cheer the hearts of skiers even as it penetrates your wetsuit, chills your spine and the waves refuse to break, you do occasionally wonder what in hell you are doing out there. Sometimes it can be bleak out there in the water with the other desperados, while everyone else appears to be at home reading the weekend papers and enjoying another slice of hot buttered raisin toast. But when the swell arrives, be it at Possos, Juc or places further south, when you paddle those numb hands and catch that icy wave and tear down its glassy face, you wouldn't change your place with kings.
It takes a special kind of person to surf through winter. I’d like to think that as someone who willingly wakes before five o’clock in the morning twelve months of the year, leaps into their swimmers without even checking the surf report and
despite modern conveniences such as surfcams and online weather reports, bundles her boards, wax, a towel and a yawning husband into the car (not in that order) before driving off to the local beach with supreme confidence that today it will be pumping despite howling winds or hail; I’d like to think that this kind of person is, well, someone cool. But I suspect it really boils down to being obsessed and as stubborn as all get out. Sure, it’s easy to rise before dawn during Torquay’s seemingly endless summers and spend the day alternating between the glassy waves and the shade from the twisted trees at Point Danger. But come that first autumnal hint, then the non-committed turn away from the ocean and take up squash, skiing or footy until November.
Thank goodness.
Like those who purport to follow Richmond, but in reality only cheer them when they are winning, they don’t realize what they are missing as winter surf is exhilarating time! Not only are the waves less crowded, they are heaps more fun to ride. Fewer surfers mean less competition and a far mellower vibe. Any foolish rivalry, either real or imagined between the tribes shortboarders, longboarders, mal riders, waveskiers, kneeboarders, standupd and bodyboarders, for the most part disappears as we all sit there, hands tucked under armpits, teeth chattering together. As you bob up and down with your fellow desperados, you feel scorn for those who non-believers who pull into the carpark, shake their heads and return home, warm, dry and without a wave to their name.
Some of the more mature longboarders even don neoprene rubber caps, looking strangely like medieval butchers or extras from ‘Monty Python and the Holy Grail’ as they swiftly paddle past. Perhaps it’s because I learned to surf here in Victoria where the water might be just 10 degrees whilst the wind chill factor you’d swear under oath is no more than -11, that Sydney’s winters seems very mild by comparison. Still, you know how cold it is by the time it takes for your feet to numb up - when you can’t feel your toes; it’s definitely time to paddle in.
Emerging, the wind whips through you as you pelt up the sand. In the car park you thaw your frozen feet under a cold shower or by pouring the remains of the thermos flask contents over them and hurriedly place a towel on the seat so you can drive home rubber clad. On the days when my husband has the car and I cycle to the beach, I wear gloves so I can maintain grip on the handlebars and I peddle as hard as I can to get the blood going. Dashing inside, you jump in the shower, turn the water on hot, hot, hot and are revived in the heat rush. Later, rugged up and sipping miso soup or tea, then gobbling porridge, crumpets or poached eggs (some days you feel so starved you’d consume it all) by the fire, you relive every wave and email or text your girlfriends about the amazing rides you caught, wiped out on and the Harvey wallbanger sunrise you were privileged to witness.
Who cares about mortgages, the falling economy, your idiot boss or newspaper headlines?
Its winter waves ahoy.
The surf is up and so are my spirits.