Where have all the surfers gone?

There are many things that I know little about: Surfing and sharks are two topics I concede I know absolutely nothing about. Well, almost nothing. I know that wind direction is the second biggest determining factor of whether surf is surfable (sic). Offshore wind blows from the land to the ocean and it sweeps the face of the wave as it forms, creating a clean surface down which a surfer chooses to  plummet to his/her imminent death. Onshore winds blow waves out from the back and make them scrappy and difficult to ride. 

I tried surfing once and found it to be a very unsociable pursuit where your fellow surfers regale in fits of laughter as grommets and skegs (do they still use this term?), alike, flounder in the white-wash. Drop-in on a serious board rider and you are liable to be picking fibre-glass shards out of you cranium for the term of your natural life. Encouragement, development and support are nouns and verbs not common to the vocab of a true surfer.

Sharks? Make no mistake; I am very scared of sharks. How is the irony? I spent three years studying one of the world's most venomous snakes on Carnac Island and the most terrifying part of each day was swimming from the boat to the shore. I felt like shark bait and that 30 m swim felt like the Cottesloe to Rottnest Island Channel Swim. I fear them because they are masters of an environment that feels completely foreign to me: the water. While my head is above the water, below the surface I am certain they are stalking me.

Sharks are phenomenal creatures; the oceans greatest super-predator and, despite my fear, I have massive respect for these animals. No matter how beautiful and inviting Australia's south-west oceans may be, I am more than happy to bare witness to its majesty from the safety of the beach. 

But when I am standing on a viewing platform at Conspicuous Cliff, looking over an absolutely stunning southern ocean, awestruck by the offshore winds kicking up glassy barrels and spraying clouds of mist 30 ft in the air, I am left to wonder only one thing: Where have all the surfers gone? It is school holidays; it is the weekend; the conditions are ideal and there is not a single person in the water. Can you spot one? Where have all the surfers gone?

Has the fear of the Great White finally gotten the better of the iconic Aussie surf gods. If this is so, I am sorry for them: They are losing a part of themselves which is more important to them than any one of their five major senses. However, I am sure that they, like me, also have massive respect for the super predator and concede that the ocean belongs more to them than it does to us.