Crowded WAVES
It’s Easter Monday and Duranbah’s dreamy three-foot peaks have been rendered unsurfable by an average of four punters dropping into each wave. There are dings, injuries, and fights. It’s public holiday pandemonium with no respite in sight. With a south swell in the water, the rest of the coast offers unappealing dribble. Or does it? From the top of the hill you can see empty peelers just over the border. So, a savvy few paddle across the other side to enjoy sparsely populated waves of similar quality. Score.
While the herd bickered and burned each other, these slightly more imaginative and motivated individuals were rewarded for making the extra effort. Granted, this effort involved some extra fatigue on the shoulders, a slightly sharky paddle, and a technically illegal border crossing circa April 2020. But was it worth it? Sure. Although you have to wonder whether a non-surfer would understand.
The allure of empty waves has driven many a surfer to extreme lengths. Amongst COVID’s chaos, we’ve witnessed the phenomenon of unoccupied lineups with tantalising shots of usually crowded hotspots, devoid of any human form. Every surfer’s lifelong fantasy has manifested in some twisted nightmare, which has universally sidelined those who dared to dream.
We’ve all fantasised about having the local to ourselves; rocking up at a fabled point break to find a mysteriously empty carpark, or scoring
