surfing archetypes – the longboard club
There are too many normal people surfing these days, they have a serious lack of attitude and no longer offend nearly everybody
Dec 5
2 Comments
surfing archetypes – the highly attractive young lady surfing in a bikini
Many years ago when the Australians first came to the Rock they upset the order of things when they challenged the Hawaiian's supremacy and technique in the surf.
surfing archetypes – the banker / lawyer / accountant businessman bastard.
These archetypical bastards realised long ago that the slovenly and out of control rabble who infested the better ends of the beaches and the more superior of the available breaks needed to be swept away.
you’re only as good as your last wave
Why you should stop surfing at 29 for the sake of the youth.
surfing archetypes – the raaf & the Indo expat bastards
We should all be about 55+ and firing up a Marlboro prior to slipping out at some Indo point. We should all be lean and brown and supple enough to squat like a Dayak.
surfing archetypes. the chick magnet bastards
People who don't make you feel good about yourself
south – father harry and elsie. story 6
father harry. silent jack. elsie the dog. cricket.
south – the visitor. story 5
cockerels and dogs. chester, eggs. monty and boiled crayfish. eternity.
the buffet, the blood –
Noosa. Abandoned to hope, lost to influence and old money, overbuilt and overcome. Noosa, poisoned with wealth. Noosa, the shadow home of the Kabis, stripped of its forests.
south – the first day. story 3
the three dogs. alf. the lagoon beach. pockets of stuff. spanish guitar.
south – the journey. story 2
the train from beaudesert. stan and alice. a bone handled knife. the destination. the old man in a hat. eden reached.
south – fire at night. story 1
an accident at night. a loss. the orphan. the police call. a departure.
the incalcitrant son
' I've got to take a phone-call from the school Boss on a FRIDAY to learn that all the dough I've been paying to get you to Uni to do God knows bloody what has been pissed up against the wall of the South Bondi Boardriders Club, you filthy little rotten mongrel kid! ...
the hermit at point upright
They left him alone, this silent man on his resolute path to the sea.
I don’t come from there anymore
Scoresby has a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and how these do they beam a steadfast and penetrating gaze on me as I fidget with a notebook and pencil.
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