The Worst and Best of Humanity

The moon was full, the night was black, and the surf was, if not exactly pumping, then at least moderately pleasingly accommodating. There were waves to be ridden, so we heeded the call.

Three of us, Snake Catcher, Uncle and Baboon, paddled out into the night, gently bobbing up and down on the breakers as they came our way. Rising over the top, breaking through their crests; very occasionally, on the big ones, rolling over turtle-style to let it wash over us.

We made our way up to First Rock, the rocky fingers sticking out from the rock formations behind us, where waves push up against, arc up and break into slippery slides for us to ride. The point is often referred to as Singapore. As in The Battle Of Singapore, because it is, every day without fail, hotly contested and fought over, and vicious and callous atrocities are committed in the name of Snatching A Wave on a daily basis.

We have he great fortune of having a world class wave here, at our break. A long sandy-bottomed shallow bay stretches away from a point where waves break in perfect clean right-handers that, on a good day, can go for up to 800 metres. It's a phenomenally long wave, it's often very tidy and user-friendly, and it is for good reason that it attracts hordes of starry-eyed would-be riders, both from overseas and from interstate. All these people crowd into the one spot, much too close for comfort, and unfortunately and inevitably tempers rise, bad blood boils, and all of humanity's ugliest sides come out: petty-minded obstructionism, dog-eat-dog self-servingism, a word I have just invented, and nasty and vindictive elbow-wielding competition for any wave at all. It occasionally results in actual fist fights, people have been hurt, and depressingly regularly there are fine displays of violent verbal abuse involving the invocation of other people's matrilineal descent from a variety of undesirable flea-riddled and addle-brained animals, and, occasionally, questionable mythological creatures. Baboons come to mind.

Not long ago, one of our number, The Shredder, Lord Of Deep Vertical Take-Offs And Scourge Of Small Furry Animals, was in a mild tussle with a boogie-boarder. It had been a particularly rewarding day, with waves breaking sharply into long peeling barrels, and, on the low tide, such boogie-boarders as were in attendance were lapping it up: being on short boards and lying down they were able to get into small pokey holes us longboarders could only dream off. The Shredder however, Tyrant Of The Toothpick, rocking the show on a Very Short and Very Skinny board, formerly used by his grandma as a crocheting needle, was able to get in there and amongst them and give them a run for their money. This hadn't gone down well, and, as he had been paddling back up alongside a random boogie-boarder, The Shredder had casually mentioned that the boogie-boarder in question had better back off and mind his manners a bit more. This is unfortunately a fairly standard sort of an exchange in the relentless competition for waves. The boogie-boarder had looked at him funny, paddled up a bit closer, and sideswiped him an elbow-blow alongside of the head. Thanks for coming.

These are the things that give the world of surfing a bad name. And for good reason.

These are also the very reasons why we paddle out in the dark of night, by the light of the Milky Way and the full moon, and catch our share of waves in the dark. It's the only time there's peace and quiet on the water. We can sit back and relax, pick and choose our waves, and take it in turns and share the load amongst ourselves, companionably and peacefully. We have been doing it for a long time, and we have learned to see in the dark.

The Snake Catcher had seen something in the dark.

'I just went right over a shark,' he said. It was hard to tell by starlight, but he looked positively green behind the gills. 'But it's all right,' he continued with terminal optimism, 'it was only a little one. Only about 5 foot, probably.' He pulled his left earlobe pensively. 'Probably,' he added, nodding encouragingly, carefully re-moulding the shape and size of the memory in his brain. His nose grew longer.