Photo: That random kid on the rock at Currumbin woulda been the perfect character for the story!
Last Surf
It’s 5am, the 8th of April of 2010. The sun sneaks into my sleep announcing the beginning of another day. My dad is already up; I can hear his anxious steps walking from the kitchen to the lounge, back to the room and so on. It feels like something is not right, but what could be go wrong when we had a 6-8 foot southerly swell predicted for this sunny Autumn Thursday morning? I step foot into the living room and catch my old man’s surfing gear ready to go, the TV is on, he says with a tense voice: -“get ready son, we are heading down south.” - “Aren’t you suppose to work today dad? And what about sch…” The image on the TV caught my attention so intensely that the words ran away from my mouth in the middle of the sentence. The whole North Pole was collapsing into the ocean, the reporter could barely speak as, like us, he faced such disaster being unable to take an action.
Daddy says…- “this could be our last surf kiddo, hurry up and get ready. I owe you so much more than that, but please just let me take you out today.” I run around the house collecting all my gear, my brain still doesn’t quite comprehend the situation. He drives us down to Boulders and tells me to make the most of that section. The perspective of being out there for the last time in my still short life makes me not think about how big the waves are, or how hollow the last section could get. Neither of us have a watch, we enjoy that moment as if there is no world back on land. The waves seem to be getting a bit easier as the time goes by. -“Dad, is the tide coming in?” -“It’s actually supposed to be going down son; it’s time for us to go.” By the time we catch a wave in, the water level is already reaching the bush. On the drive back he explains me that due to their skepticism in regards to global warming, the environment got to a stage where there was no way back. Even though great part of the population was starting to take measurements to reduce the emission of CO2, there was no road that could lead this planet to its regular self. Like parasites, our race managed to ruin the place we habit. Just like a human body that catches fever and warms up in order to kill the living forms threatening its well being, the living form we know as planet earth seems to be getting rid of us.
The words that my old man was telling me were as much clarifying as shocking. When I asked him why, his silence was full of guilt and regret. A tear ran down his eye breaking his heart open, he said: “I wish I could give you a whole new world my precious, a new world with more thoughtful people where you could live in harmony with the environment and even get you a new Kirra so you know what we always brag about. It’s a shame that my generation’s greed and selfishness has taken so much away from you.” At this stage, we were driving past Currumbin, as much as we were having a deep moment, our necks just automatically turn to check the waves every time we hit that bridge. It was an even bigger shock than our talk, the whole beach next to the lake was submersed, and I could only see a diminutive strip of sand down in Palm Beach and beyond. It was on, just like an ice cube melting in a coffee cup, the could waters from the north made its way to our hemisphere in no time. The ocean level was still going up by the minute; we pulled over at Burleigh point to watch it happening, but ended up having to leave in a hurry before the road got taken as well. People were leaving their waterfront houses in tears carrying only the most valuable belongs, waves dragging things like supermarket trolleys and rubbish bins claimed the Goldcoast Highway and cars had to race inland for safety. It all happened so quickly! In one hour the Tambourine Mountains had more people than the whole of Surfers Paradise has ever had. “What now??” I asked. “The years will tell us.” My dad promptly answered.
15th of April of 2032. The weather finally cooled down a bit in this Easter Sunday after a hot week, it’s only 37 degrees this morning. Daddy is already putting the breakfast table together, as usual. Since we moved in to this waterfront place in Robina he seems a lot happier. I wake up my son, it’s his 10th Birthday and, as I promised, I was taking him to surf the Q1 point. Since what happened in 2010, the water has never been hotter than 15 degrees (at least there’s not many chances that the South Pole will collapse now), so we all got our wetsuits out and hit the road. On the way there, my old man brings up the events that we lived 22 years ago. I always try to avoid the topic, since my son missed out on so much that will never come back, but in this day I told him everything. I guess that every generation brags about their own time, so there shouldn’t be anything wrong with that anyway. The little one took it quite well, since he wasn’t here to contemplate how severe the changes really were. We parked right on Bermuda Street and Jumped off at Thomas. The Q1 point, made of the ruins of what used to be Surfers Paradise, offers some pretty long rides, although it isn’t anything like the Superbanks used to be. I actually designed it myself. After years watching the government try to turn the place into a modern Venice, I noticed that the fact that there was constantly swell would make it just impossible for a regular living. I figured that if we took every single tall construction down, this would make a “ruins reef”, making the waves break out there and lose power by the time it reaches Bermuda. In fact, every single location on the planet had to find a way to adapt to the new water levels. Sydney was now right on the action, there were no more northern beaches or southern beaches, but one sick spot on each side of the harbour. Californians had to content themselves with a bunch of still unnamed breaks over what used to be their houses, NY isn’t that far from the ocean anymore, Bali’s Bukit is now gone, along with all the low islands that existed and their respective surf locations.
We were left on a land where there’s plenty of water, but almost none that we can drink. The sun still glows 300 days a year on the Goldie, but we cope days of over 50 degrees Celsius during summer. Our wetsuits are so modern and light we barely feel them, but we haven’t forgotten how much better it was to only use boardies. The government has created a chemical solution to keep the water blue and the tourists around, but it only makes it harder for us to see random objects floating. We don’t actually have as many surfers as we used to have. No wonder why.
2042, Christmas day. I am the proudest dad in the world. My kid just earned the world title! Coming from one of the only families that still surf on the Goldcoast it was an amazing result. He managed to beat guys from prime locations like Korea, Equator and Italy. To celebrate, the little ripper took me and his grandpa to surf an island called “Fernando de Noronha”, in South America. This place has been considered the new Hawaii since 2010. His victory has renewed the fire of surfing in the Australian’s veins, artificial reef projects started popping up from everywhere The water wasn’t as cold. We all worked as a team to give back to the next generation the most amazing thing that one can experience.
By the end of 2058 we had quality breaks just about everywhere in Australia. With the new technology available and a population willing to rescue its roots we have achieved such a goal. To complete our happiness the water finally felt as warm as it was in that boulders sesh back in 2010. The question remaining is for how long the South Pole will stand still?
