FOOTPRINTS OF THE GREATS

Travel has always played a big part in surfing. Whether it’s a bike ride over a headland to a back beach that handles the wind or a trip to another continent, the possibility of a better surf experience (than one at home) has been a constant enticement for surfers as far back as The Duke. And for as long as there’s been surfers giving in to the urge to travel, there’s been idiots lugging cameras around to document them doing it. Think it’s awkward lugging a 20 kg four-board coffin across the world? Try transporting 40 to 50 kilograms of sensitive electronics and fragile glass.

My obsession with surfing started while I was going to school in Brisbane. The disadvantages of being a surfer in a landlocked city are pretty obvious. The biggest plus, though, is the variety of surfing options available to anyone with a car (or indulgent parents). Every weekend, I’d face the dilemma of whether to go north (Sunny Coast), south (Goldie), or on special occasions, east (North Straddie). This conditioned me to a life of travelling to surf. Even after I was lucky enough to move to the Gold Coast at 17 years of age, it felt like nothing for me to drive a couple of hours south to Yamba