Surf Camp Australia: The 2 Day Surf Spectacular V

Note: Please read the previous blog posts, Surf Camp Australia I-IV, before continuing on with this one. 

Day 2. I woke up 7:00 am to rain drops pelting the roof above me. Outside it was grey and cold; not ideal surfing weather.  When the yell to put on our wet suits came at 7:30, I cringed. The last thing I wanted to do was put on my cold wet suit and get into the even colder water to surf. I wasn’t alone. All of the campers looked at each other hesitantly, asking with their eyes, “Do we have to?” Even the surf instructors were whining about how miserable a day it was. But we were at surf camp, and at surf camp there is a set schedule that must be followed which says there is a 2-hour surf session each morning. As much as I wanted to stay in my warm, cozy bunk, I couldn’t be the one defiant camper who refused to go surfing. If everyone else could do it, I could too. I am tough. I have endured worse things than surfing in the cold. And so I pulled that wetsuit on and went. 

Seven Mile Beach day 2, gloomy and cold

The air was so cold that it made the water feel somewhat bearable, but I knew from the previous day that eventually I would lose feeling in my fingers and toes and this time when I retreated from the water there would be no sunshine to warm me up as there had been the previous day. It was this knowledge that made getting into the water most difficult; the knowledge that when I come back out I will be greeted by freezing winds. Still, I took a deep inhale and trudged forward into the ravage seas. The water was extremely choppy, producing terrible waves for surfing. It was nearly impossible to stand on the surf board. Every time I tried I just got bumped off by another wave. Everyone around me was experiencing the same difficulties. This was not fun. It was a drastic change from my surfing experience the prior day. I looked at my watch, which informed me that only 20 minutes had passed. There was no way I was going to endure another hour and a half of this. If any normal person had woken up on this day, no one would have said, “Today is a beautiful day for surfing. Let’s go!” No, instead they would have said, “Let’s stay inside wrapped in our blankets with cups of hot cocoa watching movies all day.” So why was I in the water attempting to surf when the conditions were so awful? Aubrey approached me in the water shivering. “I want to be back in my warm bed,” she said. We couldn’t make a mad dash back to camp because we had our boards with us, so instead we shivered back to the beach and proceeded to run around to try and warm ourselves up. In the distance was a sand dune, and we sprinted to it and huddled together on the other side where we were sheltered slightly from the wind. We stayed here with another camper for the remainder of the surf lesson chatting the time away until it was time to finally head back to camp where I took the most wonderful, long, hot shower, followed by a nap.

I didn’t go to the second afternoon surf session. Well I did go, but I didn’t surf. Despite the fact that I was at surf camp and this was my final chance to surf before I went home, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. The instructors called “Wetsuits on!” right about the moment that I had begun to fully thaw out and regain feeling in my limbs. I wasn’t alone. About half the group decided that they weren’t going to surf either. This was not an easy decision for me to come to, mind you. Saxton and Shane were incessantly bugging me to suit up and surf. And I wanted to, I really did, but I not in this weather. I just couldn’t do that to myself. I had such a wonderful time the previous day surfing, and such a terrible time this morning. I just knew I would be cold and miserable if I had gone. Instead I wanted to preserve the happy feelings I had from my first day surfing. I had come to surf camp to learn to surf and had done just that. I did what I had set out to do. I felt content, happy and accomplished. I had nothing to prove to anyone. At that moment, all I wanted was to stay in my warm, dry clothes and sit on the beach reading, and that is exactly what I did. It was a very peaceful two hours on the beach, a much needed time of relaxation and reflection.

Aubrey was a trooper, she surfed again. I stay bundled and warm

Despite the weather woes, I am very satisfied with my experience at Surf Camp Australia. I had so much fun! I am grateful that we had one beautiful day to surf, and that I have the photos and videos as proof that I did indeed surf. Surfing is such an extremely cool culture; surfers just ooze an effortless coolness that I am envious of, but I came to the realization on this trip that a surfer life is not the life for me. A day and a half living the life of a surfer chick was enough for me! But make no mistake, I fully intend to try surfing again once the weather is HOT and the waters are warmer.  Hopefully, if all goes according to plan, Aubrey and I will be able to return to Seven Mile Beach to surf again. When the surf instructors learned that Aubrey works for red bull (she is doing promotional work for them here in Sydney, on top of nannying) their eyes lit up. Red bull and surfing are apparently like peas in a pod; the boys are addicted to the stuff and so we made an agreement- Aubrey and I would come back with cases of Red Bull in hand in exchange for a day of surfing. Maybe I will become a surfer chick after all…

The surf camp crew

We had a blast, clearly

Surf Camp Australia: The 2 Day Surf Spectacular IV

Around 4:00 pm the call to put on our wetsuits echoed through the air. After my boost in esteem, I was ready to hit the waves equipped with a positive, can-do attitude and energy to spare. However, putting back on a wet wetsuit was not at all fun. The instant my skin touched the damp suit, cold shot through my body. This is when I wish I was a burley man covered in a forest of chest, leg, arm, and everywhere-else hair. I needed a layer of warmth and protection from the wetsuit that was designed to protect me from the cold water. Since sprouting fur wasn’t an option, I just had to suck it up and pull the suit on. When it came time to haul the boards to the beach, I buddied up with Aubrey to share the burden of the task. Two bodies pulling two boards are better than one. When we arrived to the beach the sun was shining and the sky was blue. It was a beautiful afternoon, and the warm sun on my face made entering the still frigid water much more tolerable.

When I entered the water Saxton called me over to him and told me to get on the board he had. Attached to the tip was a waterproof camera to record me surfing (for learning purposes of course). I was the first person to go, and with the camera rolling the pressure was on to successfully surf. By the grace of the gods above I caught and rode an awesome wave my first try! I now realize it was a great thing that I went first because I could still feel my fingers and toes, and therefore could actually feel the board. If I had gone later on, I am doubtful this video recording session would have been as successful because I spent the remainder of the surfing session falling over. However, Saxton managed to capture my ONE good surf ride on camera, so I am a happy girl. It’s proof that I can and did surf! This afternoon surf session was such a blast, full of laughing and crashing, surfing and smiling. “So this is what it’s like to be a surfer,” I thought to myself.

Check the videos out for yourself. The embedded videos aren't the greatest quality, so I also included a link to the video on YouTube. 

Me surfing, compliments of Surf Camp Australia

Me surfing again, same ride from a different angle

Surf Camp Australia: The 2 Day Surf Spectacular III

Note: Before reading this blog post, please read Surf Camp Australia part I and II below. 


Before our afternoon surf session, we had a two hour break of nothingness. It has been a long, long time since I have had two entire hours with absolutely nothing that I needed to do. No work to do, no internet to surf, no television to watch even. It was wonderful. Guy had mentioned during orientation that there was a jumping pillow at the camp. Intrigued, Aubrey and I decided to spend our free time looking for this pillow so as to jump on it. It didn’t take long to find. The jumping pillow was a massive tarp that was filled with air and cemented to the ground. It did in fact look like an enormous yellow and blue pillow popping out of the earth. Aubrey and I scaled the sides of the pillow until we reached the top. Then we jumped. Folks, this jumping pillow was heaps more fun to jump on than a trampoline, and that’s saying a lot because I am a huge fan of trampolines, which means I am now a HUGE fan of jumping pillows. I will be installing on in my backyard one day. It was so much fun! We just jumped and flipped the afternoon away, giggling with delight. Really, the experience of bouncing on the jumping pillow alone was worth the $300 I paid to go to surf camp. If the ocean suddenly dried up and I couldn’t surf again, I would have still gone home a happy camper. 

The jumping pillow

And this is how high you can actually jump on the jumping pillow, as demonstrated by Sir Saxton. 

Surf Camp Australia: The 2 Day Surf Spectacular II

Note: Please scroll below and read Surf Camp Australia part I before reading the following. 


All of us campers were divided into groups and assigned a surf instructor; we remained together at each lesson. I believe there were about six of us in my group: myself, Aubrey, our Norwegian roommate, and three lovely girls from Germany. Our surf instructor was Saxton. First of all, great name. Saxton. It has a surfer ring to it, doesn’t it? Now let’s play a game. What comes to mind (as in a visual image) when I say “surfer”? Got it? Whatever you envisioned, Saxton is. He is exactly what you imagine a surf instructor to be: bronze skin; blond, lengthy, tangled hair; and a perfectly chiseled body. I may have drooled once or twice. Did I mention that he is also a model? No? Well he is. When I told him I was from New York he said that he had been there once for work. I thought he meant for surfing, but he said that it was for modeling. I assumed that it was modeling for some surfer company, like Bongo or something. Wrong again. Calvin Klein, he told me. Yes ladies, an Australian, Calvin Klein model was my surf instructor. You have my permission to be jealous. The level of truth behind this claim has not been determined; I am perfectly content taking his word for it.

My surfing group. Can you spot Saxton?

To be fair, all of the surf instructors at camp were super cool and abnormally good looking. They were a bunch of nice, talented, funny guys who made my experience at surf camp extremely enjoyable. I didn’t catch the names of most of the other surf instructors (but they didn’t know mine either because we weren’t in a group together, duh) except for Shane and Bull. Shane was sort of like the head surf instructor and camp counselor. He was in charge of making sure everything was running smoothly, and would jump from group to group sharing his surfing two-sense and hyping up everyone to surf. His energy and enthusiasm for surfing was contagious. This was true for all the surf instructors. Their love for the sport was so evident, and it was nice to witness their passion for the sport and their job. Bull was the designated surf camp photographer. He spent the entire surf lessons taking pictures and films of everyone surfing, or attempting too. These we then looked at after meals, but more about that later. Now, back to the surf lesson.

Shane and Saxton

At the first surf lesson, Saxton began by teaching us how to simply ride a wave lying down on the board (as oppose to standing). Step 1: Get on the board. Hop onto the board on your belly with your toes touching the end or dangling off slightly. Step 2: Thumb and nipple check. Place your hands on the board so that your thumbs are directly under your nipples. DO NOT grab the sides of the board. You will tip over. Keeping your hands in the center maintains your balance on the board. Step 3. Push up. Straighten your arms and lift your chest off the board. This position resembles the Upward Dog pose in Yoga, if you are familiar with that. After practicing the three steps in sequence on our boards on land, we headed to the water to put practice to action. The water was C-O-L-D. Even with wetsuits on, it felt freezing. However, riding the waves lying on the board wasn’t too challenging. It was actually quite fun, like riding a big body board. Once mastered, we retreated back to land for the pivotal second lesson: standing up.

The starting position

Lesson 2: Standing up. Step 1. While lying on the board with your chest up, slide your right heel up to your knee. Step 2. Place your left foot in between your two hands on the board at a 45 degree angle. Step 3. Stand up, keeping your knees bent and looking forward.  Saxton made us draw a surf board in the sand and practice these three moves over and over and over again. Once it had been drilled into our brain, it was time to hit the waves and give it a go.  Of course, doing the motions on sand was easy enough, but doing the same in on a moving board in icy water was another thing. Crashing was inevitable. And crash I did. Actually, I didn’t crash so much as just repeatedly wobble about on the board and topple into the ocean. Still, it took many failing attempts before I successfully lifted myself onto my feet on my board as it (and I) glided across the water on a wave. In other words, I surfed! This moment was exhilarating. Riding a wave was such a high. In that instant I felt on top of the world. I totally understood why people love to surf and do so religiously; I wanted to keep surfing so I could experience that feeling over and over again.

Step 2: Standing! (aka surfing)

 Slowly, however, my state of euphoria began to fade as my body was overcome by cold. I became aware that I could no longer feel my fingers or toes. Each surf session was 2 hours long. That is a long time to be in freezing cold water. My displeasure was enhanced by the fact that I have renauds (spelling) disease. At least I think I do. It has never officially been diagnosed by a doctor, but my mother has it (if not, sorry mom for this falsification) and so I reasonably assumed that I had inherited this (algo about disease, like “likelihood to lose circulation”). Regardless, mid-way through the first surf session all of the blood had drained from my fingers and toes, which were ghost white and completely numb. The inability to feel your toes makes standing on a moving board rather challenging, and I became frustrated as I found myself falling off the board more than standing on it.

My frustration increased when it was finally time to go back to camp, because I had to drag my massive board back to the storage trailer, this time without feeling in my fingers.  I remember thinking how so very glad I was that I had only signed up for the 2 day surf camp because I couldn’t fathom doing this twice a day for four days. In those 2 hours my spirit had soared and then rapidly sunk down to a sourpuss mood. I just wanted to take a hot shower, bundle up in warm clothes and eat. Following surf lesson # 1, we had lunch, and then came the communal photo viewing session. As part of the surf camp itinerary, after each lesson Bull was to show the photos he took of us attempting to surf so that we could learn and laugh. By viewing the photos, they could point out what we were doing wrong so that we could fix it next time and improve our surfing skills. Really though, it was just a time for the instructors to laugh at how silly we looked. They said so themselves. “We’re laughing at you, but only so that you can get better. It will be fun.” I was dreading it. 

Body still thawing, I sat in the pavilion preparing to see photos of myself flailing all over the place, looking like a fish drowning in water. Bull started the photo slideshow, stopping on every other photo to critique it. “I’m not picking on you guys, I just want to show you what you’re doing wrong so you can fix it and become better surfers,” he assured us. He continued clicking the film. Then a photo of me below popped on the screen. I was glad to see that I was actually standing on the board, and surprised. I had only actually caught a wave a couple of times and somehow Bull managed to capture it on film. Bull then stopped on the photo shown below. I was bracing myself for the worst, ready to hear what I was doing wrong. “This,” he said, “this is really good.” What? Did I hear him correctly? Did he just say this picture of me was an example of good surfing? That couldn’t be. I shook my head to see if I had water stuck in my ears. “Who is this?” he asked. “Sarah, is this you?” I looked around perplexed, wondering “Are you talking to me mister?” Indeed he was. I was in such shock that I could barely form a response, but managed a nod “yes” while muttering “I think so.” Bull continued. “This is where we want to be,” he told the group. “See how she has turned the board and is riding along the wave, rather than forward? We don’t teach this until the fourth day usually. How did you turn the board, Sarah?” “That,” I stated, “was a complete accident,” The group laughed including myself. “Well that’s good,” he said. Then he moved on. 

My accidental "Good" surfing example

I felt rejuvenated. My confidence in my surfing capabilities had been restored and my spirits were once again high. I was eager to hit the waves again.  

Surf Camp Australia: The 2 Day Surf Spectacular I

Just a heads up folks, I will be divulging this surf spectacular across multiple blog posts. There is a lot I want to tell, and I think it's best to break it up so that I'm not overwhelmed writing it and you're not overwhelmed reading it. And go!

Ladies and gentlemen, it is official: I have surfed! I have a sore body but a very satisfied soul, and I am excited to share my two day camp experience with you all.

Aubrey and I had to wake up bright and early to catch our 7:00 am ride to surf camp. We arrived at the pick-up spot, checked-in with Guy (the guy who runs the surf camp), and climbed onboard the Surf Camp van. It was full except for two spots in the very back of the van, and so we clambered in and squished ourselves into the corner. Then we were off! Mitch was our chauffer (he is also a surf instructor but was not teaching this week, just driving), and he drove us two hours south of Sydney to our surf camp destination.  Once there, Guy gave us a quick overview of surf camp, which basically was comprised of three activities: eating, surfing and sleeping. He went over the camp rules (pretty routine of any sleep away camp I would imagine), introduced the “camp counselors” (I put this in quotations because I was older than all of them, so there was none of that usual respect-your-elders vibe. Really they were just good looking surf instructors), and placed us in our sleeping cabins. Aubrey and I shared a room with the two other male campers who were only participating in surf camp for two days, like us (the remaining twenty-something campers had paid to attend surf camp for four days). The names of my two foreign roommates have escaped me, but they were pleasant fellows, one from Sweden and one from Norway. 

The ride up in the back of the van

At the camp gathering for orientation.

Our sleeping quarters

After bunks were allocated, it was time to do the same with wetsuits. Everyone lined up, and one by one was given a hand-me-down wetsuit from the massive wetsuit cupboard. Mine was number 076. It was black and grey, torn and tattered. Wetsuit 076 had clearly endured some serious surfing. It wasn’t the prettiest wetsuit of them all, but it was mine and I loved it, imperfections and all. I can’t say that I loved it on me, however. For the record, wetsuits are not the most flattering garment one can wear, especially used wetsuits that don’t properly fit you and make it appear as if you have rolls and bulges in places that one normally doesn’t. Regardless, I was excited to wear one. This was the first time I had ever worn a wetsuit. Just putting it on made me feel like a surfer chick, and so I forgave it for not flattering my figure. 

Wetsuits on and ready to go!

Once our wetsuits were on, it was time to surf! Surf camp wasted no time; we arrived at 9:30 am, had our wet suits on by 10:30 am, and were walking out the gates at 11:00 am towards the beach to begin our first surf lesson. But first, we needed the most important player in all of this surfing business- our surfboards! On our way to the beach we all stopped at a surfboard-stuffed trailer to collect our boards. I knew that surfboards were long and tall and substantially larger than me, but I still wasn’t prepared for how heavy they were. Don’t be fooled folks, surfboards are heavy; and for a girl my size, nearly impossible to carry gracefully. Those big, muscular surfer dudes make it look easy. They simply tuck it under their massive arms and are off, but my twiggy arm was hardly longer than the width of the board and I could just barely wrap my fingers around its edge to carry it. Or attempt to carry it. I believe some dragging occurred, along with some cursing and grunting. Much of this was because I had to transport my beasty board through brush and foliage in order to get to the beach on the other side. Why they couldn’t just drive the surf boards to the sand is still unclear to me, but they didn’t. No, instead I had to exhaust half my energy and arm strength to haul the surfboards to the beach while tripping over twigs at my feet and dodging branches by my head. This was almost more difficult and tiring than the actual act of surfing. My fingers and lower arm (the part between my elbow and wrist) are still aching. 

Me and my big 'ol board

Eventually, I made it to the beach with my board and body still in one piece. The beach was Seven Mile Beach (its name is self explanatory). It was a lovely beach (I haven’t come across an ugly on since being in Australia), and a quiet one. This was precisely why it was home to Surf Camp Australia, because it was an unpopulated beach (unlike the touristy beaches surrounding Sydney that attract hundreds of thousands of visitors throughout the summer) ideal for teaching beginner surfers without the threat of harming surrounding beach goers, and vice versa. 

Seven Mile Beach

A Day of Wine, Cheese, Wine & More Wine

On Sunday, Sara, Aubrey and I participated in a Hunter Valley Wine Tasting Tour. Hunter Valley is considered the wine country of New South Wales. Always when I hear “Hunter Valley,” I think of the Hudson Valley and feel a great sense of nostalgia. The Hunter Valley is located about 2 hours north of Sydney. It is a rural, beautiful area, much like our very own Hudson Valley except that this H-Valley is flourishing with exquisite vineyards and wineries.

The Tour Van

 Our tour guide for the day was Keith, and he was a character. Keith was an old man who wore a hat with a dead, dried-up snake wrapped around it. This I would expect from a tour guide in the outback, but not from a man taking me wine tasting. How wonderfully wacky! Keith drove like a senile mad-man. Be warned: if you don’t buckle up when this man is driving you’re going to end up in your neighbor’s lap (I speak from experience). He gave commentary about everything, freely sharing his opinions along the way. For example, when discussing the Sydney Olympics Keith bluntly stated that “synchronized swimming is as exciting to watch as paint falling off the wall.” I quite enjoy synchronized swimming, but I kept quiet; I didn't want to argue with the man wearing a dead snake on his head.

With Keith, our beloved tour guide

Keith spent a good half hour of the ride up telling us the horrible, true story about the Chamberlain family, whose hometown we passed on the drive. Apparently, the family took a trip to the outback including their newborn baby girl, Azaria. One evening, the mother shrieked that “A dingo took my baby!” (f.y.i- a dingo is a free-roaming, primitive canine). Azaria was gone, without a trace. Officials looked into the baby's disappearance and eventually charged the mother with her murder, attributing her criminal behavior to postpartum depression (or something mental like that). The trial was a highly publicized media frenzy. Mother Chamberlain was found guilty of murdering baby Azaria and sent to prison. Years later, a piece of Azaria's clothing was found in a dingo lair, supporting the mother’s initial claim that a dingo stole her baby. Mrs. Chamberlain was released from prison and exonerated of all charges. If this story sounds familiar, its probably because you've seen the movie A Cry In The Dark starring Meryl Streep, which is about this terrible occurrence. If your interest is piqued then I suggest you rent the movie. Mine, however, was not. When Keith had finished telling the story, I wanted to shout, “Thanks a lot Keith! I'm going to the outback in a week.” Now I will also fear dingoes when I go, along with the other thousand Australian creature that go “boo” (among other things) in the night.

There were ten other people on the tour with us: two couples from Brisbane, an Italian couple, and a family of four originally from South Africa. I'm not sure why, but these parents decided to drag their children along on the wine tasting tour. Poor kids, I bet they had a blast! As you can see from the photo below, the young lad and I became good buddies. Actually, not at all. We didn't speak once the entire day, but for some odd reason he decided to stretch is arm up and around my shoulder for the group shot.

The group

The Hunter Valley Wine tour was gaily enjoyable. We spent the day venturing to five wineries where we sampled an array of sparkling, white, red and dessert wines. I loved “doing research” tasting all the wines, as one employee at the Savanna Winery put it. “I had some friends over last night,” she said winking, “to do research on some bottles of wine.” Cheers to that. I am a full supporter of conducting wine research. Truthfully, I'm not the most wine savvy person. I don't know the wine lingo, I can't tell the difference between wines, and I most certainly can't pronounce any of them (maybe I should have taken the Wine and Beer Appreciation course at Syracuse after all). But none of that matters because, despite my lack of wine knowledge, I enjoy drinking it.  

The Savanna Winery. 

I discovered sparkling wine on this trip. Never before had I tasted a sparkling wine. I have been missing out. Sparkling wine is crisp, bubbly, and refreshing. I thoroughly enjoyed drinking it. Dessert wine, on the other hand, I discovered to be awful (in my opinion). I have a sweet tooth, but man that stuff is potent. Dessert wines were the only wines I consistently took a sip of, cringed and dumped straight into the slosh bucket. Although, I must admit that by the end of the trip most of the wine was ending up in the bucket. By the fifth winery I was struggling to bring the glasses of wine to my lips. It reached a point where everything started to taste the same; the chardonnays and merlots and the likes merged into one, and the initial enjoyment I had derived from tasting such lovely wines dissipated. I guess there is such thing as too much of a good thing, but just barely. 

Winery # 5

Fortunately, in between tastings we stopped to sample some awesome soft cheeses, balsamic vinaigrettes, vinegars and olives. They were mmm mmm good, and a welcomed change of tastes. I have decided there is really nothing better than a platter of quality cheeses, crackers and olives accompanied by a glass of wine. Oh, and then followed by decadent chocolates of course. Our last stop on the tour was to a chocolate shop Us girls decided to sample platter of homemade fudges which were simply delightful on my taste buds. Overall, it was a day of gluttony, sunshine and pleasure.

Cheese tasting!

Fudge platter from the chocolate shop