SA Crowds are Bad?

Surf spots in South Africa have never been crowded. When it does get a bit busy in the water, we are unaccustomed to it, and don’t quite know how to deal with it.

Twenty guys out at Kalk Bay Reef is out of control, 40 in the water at New Pier is madness and 70 pushing up the point at Supertubes makes it almost dysfunctional as a surf spot ... or so we think.

There reasons for the crowds, including a wealth of surf reports like ours at everyone’s fingertips, the mushrooming surf school industry, and the popularity of surfing amongst girls from movies like Blue Crush 1 (Blue Crush 2 however, probably turned hordes of wannabe surfers off the sport for life).

We don’t know how good we have it.

At the Quiksilver Pro Gold Coast earlier this year, I awoke in the dark and looked out the window. I could see small lines of white water running down the Superbank, and a few cars pulling up in the dark. I figured I had a half hour before the sun was going to show so I embarked on a caffeine mission. A surf against the wash at The Superbank was going to need some serious stimulants, but I was pumped. It’s not often that you get a chance to surf one of the best waves in the world, in your boardies.

By the time I got down to the water’s edge, there were, at a quick headcount, 120 people in the water, bobbing and bouncing along the point. There were also about 50 people near their cars, getting ready for a surf.

By the time I got down to the water’s edge, there were, at a quick headcount, 120 people in the water, bobbing and bouncing along the point. There were about 50 people near their cars getting ready. Boards were being waxed, short wetsuits and vests being pulled on, sun cream getting smeared everywhere.

When I saw all the extras, I slowed down and weighed my options. Some guys would be leaving. Quite a few walk back up the point after a few waves. That meant there would be about 150 people in the water.

Excessive, but I’ve surfed in serious crowds before. I should be able to handle it. All good, I had my head around the mission, and continued through the deserted lay-day contest area to the gully, where 60-odd surfers were in various stages of preparedness. A teeming mass of people pushed behind the rocks. A continuous stream of people launched from the gully straight into their path.

To the untrained eye it must have looked like utter chaos, but there was some sort of method. A few guys were jumping off the rocks and signaling to those in the gully when to paddle. A dad was getting his daughter out to backline safely. Some in the gully were treading water, waiting for a gap in the sets. Those in the water were well aware of those on the inside. Choreographed madness. I waited for a big movement from the gully and launched with about 20 others. We were sucked out in about 10 seconds, an injection into the pile.

I immediately sat wide to check out the scene for a while. It’s not like I was going to be doing much else with every wave well and truly taken

I immediately sat wide to check out the scene for a while. It’s not like I was going to be doing much else with every wave well and truly taken.

“This is fucking crazy,” said Dane Reynolds, as someone whizzed a bee’s dick away from his ear on a set wave.

“Someone is going to get seriously hurt out here,” agreed Bede Durbidge, as he headed down the point for safety. The rest of the pros were nowhere to be seen, probably at D-bah or in their beachfront apartments, watching the hordes bemusedly.

The wave comes from out of nowhere and hits this incredibly shallow sandbar just in front of the rocks. You need to be totally committed if you want to take off on the peak or behind the peak. You need to be in front of the wave, paddle hard down it and be totally in tune with your airdrops.

There are bumps and warbles coming off the rocks, there are big barrel sections and those bumps and warbles push you into the barrel with little wedging pushes, so you’re going to be flying. There are people around as well. There was just a floating flotilla of flotsam, everywhere. People getting ridden over every set. After about 30 minutes of watching I managed to snag a wide one. It went well wide and missed the crew on the peak. Someone shouted to go, so I went, as did two other guys, one who I know quite well - an Australian ex-pro.

The one guy pulled out, but the ex-pro blatantly continued riding in front of me, doing a few nice turns and a bunch of butt wiggles, just showing me and everyone else why he never qualified for the WT, but that’s another story altogether, I was just stoked to get one.

About half an hour later I got another one, and I managed to dodge about 7 people lying in front of me and do one little top turn before it ran away from me and a crew of surfers down the line started paddling simultaneously for it.

I surfed for about 90 minutes and got 4 waves in total, which I was told wasn’t that bad a result for decent Superbank around a pro contest time

I surfed for about 90 minutes and got 4 waves in total, which I was told wasn’t that bad a result for decent Superbank around a pro contest time. It was the last time I surfed the Superbank or anywhere along that stretch, preferring to hang out at Duranbah around the corner with only 100 guys out.

So, the point of this little rant is that a lot of surfers in South Africa are spoilt; soft little moaners who always have some complaint on the beach, myself included. It’s too crowded, it’s too cold, it’s too windy and it’s too crowded again even though it has warmed up and the wind has backed off. We love to hang in the carpark and complain.

We really shouldn’t grumble so much. We should surf more. If we want to moan we shouldn’t complain about the crowds because they actually don’t exist. We should rather harp on about the chumming or the cage diving or something that’s relevant.