Noosa Surf Report

Growing up, we used to holiday at Terrigal on the NSW Central Coast. My grandparents had a holiday house right on the top of Barnhill Road, and when I use the term “house” I am being very generous.

It was basically three rooms. The living kitchen area, a main bedroom and then an enclosed sleep out situation which had three sets of bunks, each with a mattress underneath them. One bathroom.

Out the back door and an extra bedroom was added on. This tiny little fibro collection of rooms could actually sleep fifteen people


The last person to arrive would be required to sleep on the vinyl click-clack sofa in the living room and you did NOT want to be that person, as the sheets would slide all night and sunburn + vinyl do not mix.

The other thing that is worth mentioning is that the house had no telephone, no television, no air-conditioning, no dishwasher, no wifi (naturally) and we were not required to wash daily. Glorious! Every night the oldies would drink their lambrusco while us kids ran amok.

I am think about those long, hot summers and how they were such simple times. You didn’t instagram your cafe breakfasts, or obsess about the humidy, or complain about the walk up and down that huge hill to the beach.

If you scored an ICEE because your Mum was in a great mood, it was a good day. Even better if you were able to get raspberry AND cola mixed together.

There were no such thing as rashies, and as for sunscreen there were three options. Reef Oil, Zinc or Fifteen Plus, but mainly you just got burnt to a bloody crisp and marinated in your own filth, sliding around on the click clack sofa.

Looking at Main Beach Noosa this morning, there were at least a dozen different type of sun shelters on display. Some serious beach families even set up a mini-city type situation with lounges, eskies and sound systems. Families arrive with these wonderful trolley things that work on the sand. In these trolleys are kids, towels and all manner of crap that one might need to spend a day at the beach.

I was on FIRE this morning in the surf. I caught wave after wave and didn’t defecate myself once! Mr. Woot was very helpful, he was kind of like my launch pad. One wave I caught was so bloody big, I felt like I spent at least an hour teetering on the top of it before BANG!

It dropped me about a metre where I clung on for dear life. And the wave got behind me and propelled me until my guts were dragging along the sandy shore.

Mr Woog likened me to Layne Beechley.

I am enjoying the messages I am getting from many of your, telling me that this summer was the first time you have been in the surf for years and years. So often it is because we worry about what we look like in swimmers but here is the hot tip.


And if they are, who gives a rat’s ass?

Don’t let that stop you. Get in there GURL!

And thanks for the memories Barnhill Road. You totally prove that we don’t actually need all the things that we think we need to live a happy life.

Apart from air-conditioning.

Are you self-conscious in your togs?

PS Seventeen days smoke free now, although I would have mugged a Nun for one last night after a disastrous family game of Uno……