The Swannie pub used to be my local. 6 or 8 pool tables, dead except from the old boys in the daytime. Packed on Thursday nights. They knocked it down for an old peoples' home. There are about 2 residents to this day. Great move. The OBH used to be for country people only, never went there. Used to hang out at the shop next door playing pinnies in the summer as a grommet though. The Cott used to have the back bar and garden. And it was quiet.
I've still got my first glass board, somewhere at my parent's, my old Cordingly single fin. I covered the Cordingly stickers with Hot Brewz stickers, because I thought it was cooler. The board was browned by age and soft all over with leaky pressure dings. It weighed about 10 kilos, 5 of it water. My mates called it the "desert water supply".
One of my mates started surfing late, and was from the wrong side of the tracks (the most expensive suburb in the city ). He had an old dive suit with a front zip. Big fashion mistake at about 15. We called him rubberneck.
We used to surf Swannie after school in summer. There was a little fringe of outer reef where the wind waves would break and then you could take them through to the shore. Doesn't seem to happen any more.
thanks for the post's boys, keep them coming the kids are getting a lot out of it, putting them up on the big screen for them to read at the start of every lesson and some are checking at home. Great work, Legions post also served as an essay writing lesson! You'd get an A from me mate.
Me and my mate were dropped off at Camp of the Moon when we were 16 for two weeks of school holiday. My parents dragged a caravan up there for us and left us perched on top of the caves at the start of the trail. It was different back then, quieter and you could take whatever place you wanted. It cranked the whole time. I don't remember what we ate but we did nothing but surf, come back and have breakfast, surf, come back and have lunch, surf, come back and have dinner. For whatever reason we had a couple of cartons, parents must've thought it was a good idea. We weren't big drinkers and it turned out alcohol was a valuable commodity for ferals. We traded half of it for another commodity that was more valuable for us, from a guy who spent considerable time there and was a shaper of sorts. He was just starting out, but is quite a big label now. He went to the same school as my mate or something.
We had no car, but they took us to the break just up the track a couple of times. That was the only time it was small. Otherwise, we scored. Three days near the end it was 8', 10' and 10'. On one day we didn't even go out because there were never less than 30 people out. Not the sort of conditions to be hassling. We nestled amongst the 500mm lenses on the rocks instead. The other big day we just shoulder hopped. It was pretty intimidating for a kid. There was a guy with a plastic leg, who sat way out on the shoulder and fell off very quickly on every wave. But he was loving life, hooting and going for everything. There was another guy, an ancient (!) 40 year old redhead who legend said had sailed a catamaran from the the town to the south. He would take off hell deep and pull in and get smashed and dragged over the reef and then paddle straight back out and do it again. He made one tube, must've been six seconds plus, longest I'd ever seen.
It was a good holiday. Thanks parents.
There are places where you can live the life of the 90s. There are coastlines where it's possible. Two in particular spring to mind. They won't have the waves of down south, and they won't have the quietness during holidays that there once was, but they'll offer exploration opportunities and waves to yourself. If I had a lazy half mil spare I'd love to own a house nearby, to offer my kids the chance to pick a random 4wd track through the bush, not knowing if they'll end up at a dead end, an unscaleable cliff, or a perfect, empty beachbreak or granite slab. Slayer and Metallica blasting from the speakers, sand between the toes, provisions in an Engel. It won't be as easy as it was down south, it'll require more fuel, more money, more preparation, but it's there for the ambitious.
Legion - you've been quiet on the posts for a long while, but I have really enjoyed every one of your posts today. Thanks and well done...
GPA
Yeah Legion I did the same at school but seemed to do well at the analytical stuff, if you have kids heading towards Yr11 and 12 be rest assured that Lit now demands students to write creatively. The point of this thread is to help them design a surf company that reflects the philosophy and culture icons of the 90's. They will present the range of products as an advertising pitch, explaining their target audience (18-20 male surfer from the 90's) and how they see the world (especially their views on the fairer sex) By the way you may like Tim Winton's novel Breath if you have heard of it you may be happy to hear it's on the prescribed text list for Lit! So to have them reading such honest and personal posts has really given them a unique insight, thanks again for taking the time, much appreciated.
The keyhole at Camp of the Moon was the gnarliest rock off I'd been to. On a big swell and low tide you had to time it to perfection, and the coral was razor sharp. There were a couple of occasions where I didn't quite make it up onto the shelf between waves and was left clinging to a vertical wall of coral while the water receeded and the next wave threatened to bear down. But I survived the trip relatively unscathed, with some Betadine and self-surgery keeping the red swelling and pus down. Some smarter guys had a buoy off the reef. They'd rock off wearing Volleys and tie them to the buoy for the return trip. I credit them as an inspiration - in the last decade I've visited Cathedral Rocks a few times by bike and worn thongs out the reef and tucked them in the back of my wetsuit during the surf. There was one guy at CofM on a high tide who was dumb enough to turn his back to the water coming in. Never turn your back to the ocean, I've taught that to my kids as lesson 1. It wasn't even a lull, and it's easy to see the swells coming if you watch since they sweep in and around. A wave caught him plumb in the back and he went down face first on the coral. He was swept along, got up, and was slow enough to be caught again. No-one watching could believe it. Darwin award candidate.
Speaking of rock-offs, there are some fun ones down south. A guy just above me at school, clubbie hellman, super fit athlete, big, strong guy and good surfer used to have no fear. At South Point he reckoned it was quicker to rock in, run up the point and rock off again out the back. And it was, for him. He was one of the few who would also jump off the point at North Point in a big swell. I never had the guts to do that, even on a medium swell. I can read the ocean pretty well and handle myself alright in sketchy conditions, but I value my well-being a bit too much.
Never read a Tim Winton book, but I reckon I'd like the bloke. I don't have time for books these days, modern ADHD/ADD society and all that.
There are sessions that stand out in my mind. A mate who now runs a surf school down south and I were driven to the west coast from Quindalup by my mum. It was typical NW turning SW early cold front weather and we were grommets desperate for waves. Obviously no go on the west coast so back we came to give up. It was about 1/2' out front of my granny's house, and the SW change had made it offshore. In a final desperate act we paddled out to the distant sandbars for a go, up near the youth hostel. If you know how the sandbars out there were in the 90s, you'd know how much potential they'd have on a wave coast. Anyway, out we went and out 1/2' estimate from the binoculars was way off. Without a frame of reference, we'd badly underestimated. It was actually 2-3', and no sets, just constant wind waves buffed smooth by the offshore. Well, we got separated due to the consistency and barely saw each other for the next four hours. It was peeling left after peeling left, reeling hundreds of metres down the sandbars. Hollow perfection. After three hours a couple of other people caught on and paddled out in the distance. The last hour it dropped rapidly. There was no energy in the swell, it was the result of the strong northerlies drifting down the WA coast into that little hook of Geographe Bay. But we were the happiest grommets on the coast that afternoon.
Another time we missioned to Black Point. There were all of eight people spread out at the point, five of us arriving with our own insta-crowd in the F100, and after a while my mate and I decided to switch it up. We headed further in to a left hand sandbar and it was just us on a little 3'er for a few hours, wave after wave. Sharky place though. I've only been a few times and turned back once after spotting a large white patrolling the point one time. Long way to the hospital if you survived an attack.
Once out at I-forget-what-we-called-it, just north of Huzzas. The whole bay was cranking and so was I-forget-what-we-called-it. Four or five of us had it to ourselves and it was epic. The best part was when my mate mistook a pod of dolphins for a shark and we all scrambled for the shore. Two of the boys were in close already, two of us managed to pick a small wave leaving one out by himself. We felt bad he was going to die but good it wasn't us. It was pretty funny when we realised the mistake, couldn't stop laughing for the rest of the session. And yet there was a time when there was a whale in at the Southies steps and of course the bloke last winter taken in the same zone, so you never know what's swimming around the bay.
Last winter I only managed to make one trip down, documented in these forums. The French penalty place. It was good to surf some genuine consistent 5'ers, raw southern swell. I will endeavour to do it again this year, although I've got a few big projects that will tie me up most weekends (as usual).
Yep, they've started to get the idea that surfing is actually about a whole lot of other more important things than fashion. In this class not one of them surfs(weird in a school that has four surf teams and a surf science course!), so reading these posts has made them aware of this, they will tap into the idea of mateship, adventure, custodianship/ care of the ocean and independence to sell practical products such as footwear, sunnies, bottled water and an energy drink (not essential I know but a good product to spin).
yeah Oz surf it's Mandurah Catholic College and Legion I think I'll have to now after all the help they've received from good people such as yourself.
Keep it coming guys, great stuff.
All this reflection of the glory days has brought up some vivid memories.Such as living out of a tray back 4WD ute for days on end in surf spot car parks such as gallows. It was all about surfing from first light to when the wind came in. Come in for for a feed. This usually turned into a huge fry up. Then it was a post surf lounge and chillout. i had a bunch of mates all the same and we would just sit around groveling in the dirt. Before too long the onshore waves would have us paddling out just for the fun of it.
I really miss having to organise your life around the seasons, for example up north in winter and down south in summer.
Black point was special place and living in the cave for a couple of weeks at a time was some of the best times of my life. Long long waves and cold water with no crowds.
I remember the day two mates and i rescured a guys that had gone head first into the rock shelf on the inside. It's too long a story to tell but he had de'gloved his skull so half his head was skinned to the bone and geting him up the track from the point was mission let alone the 30km bumpy track to the main road.
Winters in the NW was unreal. I remember one winter i managed two months with out having a shower. (3 mile campo had hot salt water showers only) Surfing all day was just as good anyway. i remember being albe to take ur boardies off andf standing them up in the corner of the tent.
i better stop rambling now
man the good old days
bruce springsteen perfectly summed it up - Glory Days!
was the trigg riot at THE BROWN HOUSE (the scene of many a brain cell waisting)
Legion - great stuff, memories flooding back
That bloke on the mal with a Gath sth trigg/nth scabs, probably upto about BURN 10000000 this weekend, but the old bastard still surfs
Pecking order WTF, younguns paddle out hassle ya then call you 'old foriegn c---t, makes me laugh, spent time in bins, on the reform learning time and place, nicking the odd inside wide one, before being allowed 'out the back' but had to join another q to earn the rights-RESPECT
Foriegn C----T, what made it even better HE had an accent, my co--ks bigger than yours stuff......KARMA comes in on him as the 10 other OLD C---Ts SHARING the peak, taking turns, hooting each others waves ganged up VERBALLY on dropping in no respect, me now generation youth, and he had to paddle down the beach....GREY NOMAD power (OLD C---Ts were ONLY 35/40 years young but still grommets at heart)
MINTOX TO THE MAX thread Bakesy, learn them youngungs
GET a copy of MADWAX and ALL Down The Line into em, remember that opening scene (i think)
Hunters and Collectors, DO YOU SEE WHAT I SEE,
Tom Carrol, gath hat, massive board, ridiculous take off almost beyond vertical but going down!!
and then BAM straight into massive......
HOOTING CHEERING GROMMIE antics, faint smell of GARDENERS(Legion)Herbs as the LIVE ALL SURFER AUDIENCE AT A CINEMA/THEATRE appreciated the awesome feat of a legend (who apparently drops in a bit!!!!)
AHH GLORY DAYS
The early ninety's for me was getting a lift from hills to Trigg with parents twice a week or the train down to Cott.
Spending all day there often having a sleep between surfs or a walk up to Cleggies for a Pie or three, especially in winter when the cafe's were shut.
Or staying at my mates Grannies house over school holidays at Scarb's.
Loads of skate boarding between surf's especially when the wind was up.
Spending weeks at Rottnest on Parents boat (with out Parents) surfing Stricko's, and lots of little hiden breaks (hiden in those days, now packed) and Pinki's beach at night. Even palying Pinball at the local shop (now were the new dome is).
School surf trips down south and even once convincing the teachers that the track to Guillotines was bus savey. Hehe Sleeping at Margaret's School and harassing locals at night.
Drive all night and day for a surf. Head up to Lano only to turn around and head back to Yallingup for good surf.
One of my best memories was the sand dunes and the trip into Secret harbour. For me a turning point in life was the first day i surfed it after the dunes were moved out. Never seen such destruction by man..
Best part was no mortgage, no work and no worries..
most west oz guys from the margarets' area were pretty easy to identify in indonesia in the 90's as there were a clutch of them that wore home made surf helmuts..i remember seeing them plaster cast a guys head at G-Land one year in preparation to make a helmut....Camel was probably the most recognisable , and they all rode boards that were at least 3 inches thick and paddled like absolute demons... i have some old footage of camel tearing it up in G-land somewhere in the shed !!
another thread if anyone else has more stories to share ....almost a rite of passage to go north for WA surfers
www.seabreeze.com.au/forums/General-Discussion/Chat/Bluff-Gnaraloo-Pioneers-the-first/
good to hear from one of the MCC crew Latestarter, seems you would of graduated before I got here in 2001. Plenty of new buildings, if you want to have a proper look drop in to the College and ask for Mr Baker and I'll show you around. Surf has grown a bit since your days but we still have that bus! they don't take it up north anymore!