I think I can be forgiven for losing my bearings this week.

Where the hell am I? This past week it’s been hot and sunny and humid and muggy, more Queensland than Victoria. Even my relentlessly straight hair had a few curls … and now today I’m arguing with myself about turning on the heating. Something is strange with the world.

I know these columns are usually about music, but this week I’m talking surfing. Talking, not doing. I’m relying on my son to provide the surfing action in this family.

For the past decade I’ve been part of a volunteer community group for the Phillip Island National Surfing Reserve. This slightly unkempt and rather unruly group came together over a decade ago to help get the breaks of Phillip Island recognised, and to share, respect and preserve them … today and for future generations.

Over that time, we’ve organised an official launch – complete with the requisite Ministers, and, more importantly, former World Champ Layne Beachley. We’ve created signage and published brochures and books and kept promoting our local beaches.

We’ve also run the craziest tag-team surf comp, which in the early days was the personification of “flying by the seat of our pants”. 

The idea was simple – teams that featured surfers from groms through to oldies and even included kneeboarders, went head-to-head, competing for a trophy (and massive bragging rights). There were bonus points if you had multiple family members in your team.

Every event day, there was lots of cheering and shrieks of laughter, but you’d better believe most of those surfers came to win … and the competition was fierce.

These days, we’re relative refined, with some rules around the order the teams have to surf in, but in the initial comps, it was every man, woman and grom for themselves. Any beachgoer who inadvertently stumbled on the event would be scratching their head, wondering what kind of competition had a little grom surfing against a state champion, a twin fin against a kneeboarder– but that’s the way it rolled.

I’m not going to lie. There were days when the challenge of trying to get a bunch of surfers to focus had me tearing my hair out … herding cats anyone?

But living in this beautiful place, every day I try and walk down to the beach and see the waves. At night, there’s nothing better than lying in bed and listening to the ocean roar. Doing something to help protect that is a small price to pay.

I might not be able to surf, but watching others glide down the waves, is the next best thing. I never get tired of watching surfers run down to the waves, sleek and glistening in their wetsuits, or seeing girls racing out into the water, knowing they are claiming a space on the waves in a way that was unthinkable in my youth.

Towards the end of last year, I interviewed Jess Laing from Girls on Board (for our magazine The Island – pick up your free copy from local newsagents) about her surfing life and I asked her how she felt when she was surfing. She told me when she was in the ocean “I feel pure happiness and as though I’m exactly where I’m meant to be … the ocean brings me back to myself, and no matter where I am in the world, I feel like I am home.”

That’s something worth fighting for.

The 2023 NSR Teams Challenge is on this weekend. Come down and enjoy the fun. We’re scheduled to run at Woolamai Beach (swell permitting), but check the NSR Facebook page for the confirmed location and event updates: www.facebook.com/Phillipislandnsr