My typical destination to go surfing is Mermaid Beach. Regardless of whether or not the waves are the best the Gold Coast has to offer (which they're not close to being), I frequent the area to be able to surf with a bit of elbow-room instead of jammed into a pack. It's funny, the relationship between surfing as a sport and crowds as a social phenomenon: no surfer out there will confess to loving surfing in a crowd, though all the same surfers in general tend to behave like sheep when hitting the beach (the "follow the leader" syndrome).
On the average day, Mermaid Beach has three or four peaks, though only one will be taken advantage of and by a big, poorly distributed mob. When I get there, instead of jumping in right away and paddling out, I take a moment to ponder the scene and choose my spot wisely. Ultimately, my decision will be shaped by the quality of the waves rolling in and the amount of surfers in a given area of water. Personally, I am always willing to give up a bit of wave quality to be able to have plenty of room, though that's just me.
It's common for me to walk up to a kilometer in either direction to pick out a wave. After my deliberative process and having installed myself in a given spot however, there's always some surfer that breaks from the pack and comes to park right on my shoulder. I am always bewildered that the person didn't take that initiative earlier, before my arrival, given the fact that that break had been there all day. In the end, I figure it's nothing more than a lack of imagination on the other's behalf, remaining oblivious until someone else (myself in this case) points the small detail out to them.
This generally reflects the fact (which also bewilders me) that most surfers don't take any time to survey the water in search of the best wave before getting in. On the contrary, they simply get in and paddle out to the same spot where everybody else is already bunching up, assuming that by default, that will be the spot with the nicest waves.
There have been days when I was the only surfer getting wet on days with excellent conditions all along the beach. Yet when another surfer gets in, they come sit on my tail instead of taking advantage of the ample space. In such scenarios I simply paddle over to the next wave to keep surfing, wondering the whole way there about the other surfer's intelligence.
In sum, all of this brings me to the reflection: what in the world ended up happening to the spirit of exploration that used to define surfing? Where did it go? At what point did this flock mentality usurp its place within surfing culture? Maybe I am just the odd one out with regards to my predisposition for spacious, uninterrupted surfing? Perhaps the crowd surf is what people really enjoy now? I can't make heads or tails of it in the end, but it definitely strikes me as odd.
Here is a thought. Every time you go to the beach for a surf, spend some time on the beach observing the waves before you paddle out. You may find a better wave if you look, you'll definitely catch more waves if you find a less crowded one.
On the average day, Mermaid Beach has three or four peaks, though only one will be taken advantage of and by a big, poorly distributed mob. When I get there, instead of jumping in right away and paddling out, I take a moment to ponder the scene and choose my spot wisely. Ultimately, my decision will be shaped by the quality of the waves rolling in and the amount of surfers in a given area of water. Personally, I am always willing to give up a bit of wave quality to be able to have plenty of room, though that's just me.
It's common for me to walk up to a kilometer in either direction to pick out a wave. After my deliberative process and having installed myself in a given spot however, there's always some surfer that breaks from the pack and comes to park right on my shoulder. I am always bewildered that the person didn't take that initiative earlier, before my arrival, given the fact that that break had been there all day. In the end, I figure it's nothing more than a lack of imagination on the other's behalf, remaining oblivious until someone else (myself in this case) points the small detail out to them.
This generally reflects the fact (which also bewilders me) that most surfers don't take any time to survey the water in search of the best wave before getting in. On the contrary, they simply get in and paddle out to the same spot where everybody else is already bunching up, assuming that by default, that will be the spot with the nicest waves.
There have been days when I was the only surfer getting wet on days with excellent conditions all along the beach. Yet when another surfer gets in, they come sit on my tail instead of taking advantage of the ample space. In such scenarios I simply paddle over to the next wave to keep surfing, wondering the whole way there about the other surfer's intelligence.
In sum, all of this brings me to the reflection: what in the world ended up happening to the spirit of exploration that used to define surfing? Where did it go? At what point did this flock mentality usurp its place within surfing culture? Maybe I am just the odd one out with regards to my predisposition for spacious, uninterrupted surfing? Perhaps the crowd surf is what people really enjoy now? I can't make heads or tails of it in the end, but it definitely strikes me as odd.
Here is a thought. Every time you go to the beach for a surf, spend some time on the beach observing the waves before you paddle out. You may find a better wave if you look, you'll definitely catch more waves if you find a less crowded one.
About the Author:
Damian Papworth knows that for a surf trip, the Gold Coast is a ideal destination. It really is the earth's best surf resort.
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