Pittwater Life April 2017 Issue

Surfing Life
So much more than a
big chunk of fibreglass
What does an old surfboard mean to us? Sometimes an awful lot, writes Nick.
with Nick Carroll
Surfing Life
I’m basically unsentimental
about surfboards. Or so I
kid myself. The fact that I
have about 60 of ’em tucked
away in various places here
and around the world really
means nothing; they’re
practical items, there to be
used, even if some of them
haven’t been used for years.
There’s no attachment, you
understand.
But there is, of course. To
any core surfer, a surfboard
begins with hope, sometimes
ends with despair, and in
between, with any luck, grows
into something quite different
– an embodiment of his or
her physical connection to
the surf, a connection arising
from the actual and somehow
indescribable sensation of
riding board across wave.
Physical, and something more.
Around six months ago
I was checking the surf at
Newport when a man came
up and introduced himself as
David.
We shook hands and I
looked at him: a quiet man,
unobtrusive, about my height,
maybe a couple of years
younger.
“I’ve wanted to catch up
with you for a while,” he said.
“I have a board that belongs
to you, and I want to give it
back.”
Turned out he’d bought
the board some years earlier
and seen my name, or at least
some “Nick”, written along
the stringer by the shaper.
“It’s too small for me now,”
he said, “I’m not surfing
enough to be in shape to ride
it properly. So it feels right to
return it.”
“Oh look, you don’t have to
do that,” I said. Partly because
of those other 60 boards, like
I need another one. Partly
because I was suddenly a bit
unsure of the situation. Who
was this man David? Was I
38 APRIL 2017
Celebrating 25 Years