Making Friends With The Neighbours

Surfergrrrl asks a good question... Why weren't women invited to Mavericks? The Mavericks Surf Contest recently announced the 2009 invitees, and all 26 are men. WTF?! Sarah Gerhardt, the focus of One Winter Story, has been surfing the big waves of Mavericks for more than 10 years. She was invited to the contest in 2001, but only as an alternate. Jenny Useldinger and Jamilah Star are also Mavs regulars. The Billabong XXL Big Wave Awards aren't so sexist. Maya Gabiera, who charges with the guys on massive waves at spots like Dungeons, is up for XXL Monster Paddle. Women's surfing icon Layne Beachley is in the running for XXL Ride of the Year for taking on a big one at Ours. I asked Keir Beadling, Mavericks CEO, why no women are on the invite list. His answer? "Hmm..." C'mon, we want to know why the contest is ignoring half the population. Are you afraid a woman might win? I hope you don't mind me re-posting that here, Surfergrrrl? I just thought it was an i...

This morning I was sitting listening to a talk, when I got distracted by the hem of my jeans. It was slightly turned up, which in the scheme of things means little, but when you are looking for something, anything to occupy you as you politely endure someone else's rant, it seems significant, so I reached to my ankle and turned it down. When I folded my hands back in my lap, they felt gritty and grainy and were covered in sand. I looked at the floor to see tiny grains of rock, crystal and shell spread like icing sugar across the floor beneath my feet. Last Sunday morning I'd been wearing these jeans as I sat in the sun-drenched sand dunes checking the surf and waiting for Amy to meet me. The sand must have been from then. We had a fun surf that morning. That memory and all the attendant feelings and warmth were alive in that tiny artefact - trapped in the fabric of my (unwashed) clothing and spilling out simply because I got bored. Its presence there on the floor of that r...

This Nike advertisement isn't new, but I'd never seen it before this morning when a friend used it to talk about gender performances and expectations in sport. I'm not going to delve into that particular discussion here, but I do like to think that Nike understood all the ideas and contradictions that weave their way all through this advertisement. Then again, I am an optimist!

I need to begrudgingly admit that I didn't find this myself - I snatched the link of someone else's Facebook post (thanks loom ). And look, I actually don't even know WHAT THE HELL THIS IS OR WHERE IT'S FROM and I'm much too busy to look into it today but it needed to go up here. And oh my lord has it made my day! If you DO have further info, I would love you to share it with me. If there is more where this came from, it should be shared and broadcast! Please, enjoy. (P.S. the lyric "get up on your feet pretty baby" seems to get lost in translation!)

Last week I went for a surf and for the first time ever, got out of the water feeling absolutely worse than before I’d gone in! It was awful. Granted, we’d chosen to surf a particularly and notoriously popular, busy, crowded break, but I can usually cope with that. You accept your decision to surf that spot and accept that it’s going to be a bit chaotic. It’s a little like making a deal with the Devil. Fine. But this was different. The crowd wasn ’t too over-the-top as far as number go. And there were waves enough, even if they were only a kind of messy. But there was also this incredibly aggressive and macho vibe, which was both overwhelming and confronting. It wasn ’t like there were any blow-ups or anything, but it was just that everyone was totally in it for themselves. And I’m not talking about some wave-sharing, ‘spirit of surfing’ crap that you hear about – I don’t expect such mythical behaviours – but there was no courtesy, no consideration, no care for ...

Hey! What are you doing next Friday? Come watch a film!!

OK, so... It's pretty clear that I'm not writing much at the moment. Which is massive. For me. Truth be told, I'm not doing much of anything at the moment, so please don't think that my lack of inspiration/motivation/productivity is limited to this modest little blog, because it's not - I'm generally useless in every aspect of my life right now! Sigh. But I am trying. I really am. I am looking everywhere to bust myself out of this lethargy, but it was a particular little comment on my last post that really kicked me into gear to post something today. So this post is for Kate - who always manages to encourage and inspire me! xx ***** I have a lot of wax on my board. From the nose to the tail and out to the rails, I've pretty much got the whole thing covered! It rises up from the deck in piles, like little drip-castles that you build on the beach, letting the wet sand run between your fingers to form unstable, piled-up stacks. Most surfs, I add to these wax ca...

This morning I went up to visit my friend Kris. He lives on the escarpement overlooking Lennox Head and Seven Mile Beach. It's beautiful. We sat outside drinking coffee and chatting, looking at the view, watching the birds, the headland, the ocean. Kris got the binoculars so we could check the surf better. I wish every surf check was like this.

Kurungabaa : a journal of literature, history and ideas for surfers , is calling for submissions for the next issue. The issues will be framed around an over-riding theme of longing... Longing for waves, lover, place, smell, healing, gods, goddesses, water … The December issue of Kurungabaa is on “Longing”. We are looking for submissions – poetry, art, photographs, writing, dreams, frustrations. For more information, hit up the website .

Joe is zipping his wetsuit as I pull up. I jump out of the car and rush because it's already 5pm and it's getting colder and darker by the second. See you out there. Joe slams his boot shut and turns to go. And then stops. Shit, do you reckon I need wax? he asks me, looking at his board. I reckon if you're thinking about it then you probably do, Joe. He considers. Ugh, nah. I already locked my car, he decides and turns again to go. I've got some if you want? I offer. What is it? Orange Sex Wax. Ah, a connoisseur. He walks over and takes the dirty, white cake out of my hand. I didn't think you'd use this. Huh? I look at him, confused. Well, what type of wax did you think I'd use? I dunno. Maybe Palmers or something. Nope. No Palmers . I just get this. Although I got the feeling it was throwaway line, I was instantly intrigued as to how I could be so particularly defined as a type of wax? And why it even matters? I've known Joe for ages but I hadn...

No matter how many times I see it, this ad for the 2007 Rugby Union World Cup in Paris just never gets less excellent.

A few years ago I was talking to a friend about surfing and why he loves it so much, and something that he said then has stuck with me and I often think about it when I'm in the water. And although my memory fades and his precise words fail me, he said something like this, Sometimes surfing feels like a friendship. It can be as deep as t hat, which sounds like a cliché . But when you need to, you can go out in the water and just be cool and not talk and you feel better. It's not like a sport, or a lifestyle or anything, but, well, the wave's a mate. I think it's sweet. Photo hijacked from The Endless Bummer

I don't even care if it's totally doctored (worst sound effects ever!). It's funny! See more funny videos and TBT Videos at Today's Big Thing .

"I'm sorry" These are the words I don't ever want to hear again. They are words that are used to express regret, apology, forgiveness, but it seems to me that they are actually connected to sadness, pain, hurt, exhaustion and anger. That they're just the words we say when there are no other words left. They're words that I've heard both too much and not at all. They're the words that sometimes I ache to hear but that often just clang through my head like church bells, ringing through my thoughts and heart whether I want to hear them or not. "It's my fault, I'm sorry" "I'm sorry but that's not possible" "I'm sorry, I lied" "I'm so sorry to tell you this, but..." They're words that bring you to your knees and push you down into a chair just so you can cope with hearing them. They're words that sting and punch. They're words that break your heart. They're the words you say whe...

The other day I was sitting in the water when I noticed one of the young, teenage crew that I haven't seen in a while. I waved at her and she paddled over to say hi and as she did, I noticed that she was wearing what looked like a massive, black, plastic ski-boot, but only one one leg! As she got near me, I laughed at her, What's that all about? Oh, I broke my leg! But I'm sick of not surfing so, yeah. Jeez, are you serious? Is it ok to be out here on it? Oh, I had to get this thing on because I walked on it too much and it didn't heal... Ummm , surfing on it might not help either!? And doesn 't it make that boot stink? I'm not really standing up though! And yeah, it gets wet and won't dry, but, whatever. And she wasn't either. She would paddle into a wave on an old, borrowed McCoy and when she got it she would kneel on one leg with the other one bent behind her. She gets a full ten points for enthusiasm!

I really love owning a car. I don't know if I'm supposed to say that, but I do. It's not about status or anything, it's about access and freedom. If I didn't have a car, my life would become completely impossible and I would probably fall into a fairly significant pit of despair. I know that sounds melodramatic, but at this point in my life, my car enables my life to run the way I want it to, the way I need it to. Living between two different places that are a couple of hours apart and being a surfer of the longboarding variety, a car comes in handy. This car, Agatha (Aggie), is my third car after Emily (white '79 Corolla) and Ruby (maroon '93 Excel), and while she is in no way my favourite (Em will forever claim that revered title), she is my most user friendly. The best thing about her is that my board fits INSIDE, and the worst thing is there's no cup holder - it really annoys me. The boot has lots of room and I keep a roll call of items in there at ...

I got the funniest wave I've ever caught yesterday... Every evening that I've been home for the past few weeks has been spent at one of my favourite breaks, which also happens to be one of the busiest breaks IN THE WORLD*!! The waves haven't been anything mind-blowing, but they've been fun and so, so long and glassy, and even thought it's the middle of winter here, it's been incredibly warm and you can surf happily til well after sundown! Basically, it's not a bad way to end your day! Anyway, last night Jules and I paddled out at about 5pm, hoping to get a couple of waves before it got too dark. It looked crowded, but no-one seemed to be dropping in much. We walked out through the shin-deep water to the rocks, and sat on our boards, waiting for something worth paddling for. I didn't wait long til something soft, glassy and fat came my way, so I paddled into it and set a little line (not much else to do on waves that fat!). The wave seemed to go for ages ...

Frustrated at my apparent inability to actually commit words to paper this morning, I went and looked for some inspiration at my some of my favourite blogs including one where I found this film poster ( thanks! )... Click the poster for a link to the trailer Although perhaps a little cliche (water-colours, slow -motion shots, giggling), the surfing looks like its rad and this film looks pretty interesting. While seemingly full of the usual suspects, their blurb seems to point to exploring women who aren't professional or already well-known, which is exciting I think. Although they are amazing, I do get sick of seeing the same women surfers all the time, so it's good to see new surfers, styles and stories about women. Although there seem to be a growing number of examples coming out of the USA, these kinds of films are sadly lacking here in Australia! I want to see it! So now, instead of finding inspiration to write, I have simply found a reason to wish I was living in New York...