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Ever since I could swim in the ocean I have always enjoyed body boarding. As a kid I remember going to the sandy beaches of the Fraser coast and body surfing whenever we were afforded the time. Every once in a while there would be a man on the beach hiring out body boards. With a little effort we could sometimes convince my mother to cough up the dollars to hire one. My brother and I would often share a hire board but every now and then we were given the cash to hire one each. The days we succeeded in convincing my mother to hire a board for us were the days that we progressed from body surfers to body boarders. Those were the days. The value of the board determined how hard we used them. Because of these hire time restraints it felt as though we squeezed every ounce of fun out of the boards. We would wear ourselves ragged chasing waves knowing all to well that each wave we missed was truly a missed opportunity. We truly valued the time we had to use them and as a result we were always sad to return them. At times this was something the hire man could clearly see and it played well with his empathetic side as every now and then he would grant us another half hour to enjoy them once more but this time it was for free. Enjoy them we did and than we would travel back to whence we came. I can still recall the sense of loss as we drove away from the beach. I would watch out the back window of the car As the coastline retreated into the distance. I would continue to watch until I could no longer see it. As the last glimmer of the sea vanished from my view I recall having a realisation come over me. I would find myself struggling to come to terms with the fact that it could be twelve months before I got to see it again.
I also recall driving the 6 hours back inland to our home town wishing we could stay at the beach forever. As we completed the journey we would often stop at small towns along the way. My brother and I, still caught up in our beach mana, would quickly find ourselves browsing the magazine shelves of the local newsagents looking for body boarding magazines. Once we found a magazine that suited our desires we would flip through the pages fantasising about the next time we would be in the water with the waves once again. Then we would have to load back into the car and return to our inland home once more. We would try desperately to hold onto the memories of our body boarding experiences by wearing our board shorts and talking of our board experiences with our country friends. But the dreams of being body boarders would soon fade as the reality of our circumstances set home. We were not children of the coast. We didn’t own body boards. We lived on a property surrounded by galvanised burrs, we were Glasser St kids of the outback. The only waves we ever saw that far out into the country were those of the boats that passed along the water of the muddy McIntyre and we were lucky to see them. After 37 years of living in the outback of Australia I finally escaped. It took a pandemic to force the move but it did finally happen. So having this view of boards and board hire it is little surprise that I still value body boarding to this day. In fact, now my six year son has developed a taste for body boarding and this has reignited my passion for the sport. I have finally got the opportunity to stay at the beach. I don’t need to travel back inland to go home. I live on the coast and feel I will remain here forever.
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AuthorMicheal Farmer has many interests. Here you will find some insight into past and present experiences. From childhood memories to thoughts on the future. ArchivesCategories |