‘Falling face first into a wall of chlorinated water’: a beginner’s guide to inland surfing
On a sunny Melbourne afternoon, the perfect temperature for repeatedly but cheerfully embarrassing oneself on a surfboard, I hop into the car and head in the opposite direction to the ocean.
Following signs to Melbourne airport, I eventually arrive at Urbnsurf Melbourne, a turquoise pool that generates pristine artificial waves.
The lagoon is an impressive two hectares in total, about the size of the MCG playing field. It’s an unusual location for a surf: located in Tullamarine, the facility is only a few minutes down the road from planes and runways. The pools of peeling waves – one breaking left, the other right – are divided by a central barrier.
There are six of us here for a “cruiser” lesson, where we will surf green, or unbroken, waves. Our instructor, Julian Goyma, is a musician and music teacher by trade, but also an avid surfer and instructor on the side.
The lesson, which costs $99 on weekdays and $109 on weekends, includes board and wetsuit hire.
On land, we stretch and practise our pop-ups, and Goyma gives pointers on timing and technique, which I promptly forget about as soon as we are in the water. Our hour-long session in the lagoon promises us at least 10 to 12 waves each. In the ocean, where conditions are not so consistent, Goyma says it might take three hours to catch as many good waves.
I am nervous: I have previously surfed a few times in Queensland, but only on tiny waves. On the cruiser setting, the waves have a face height of one metre.
We paddle out, single file, to “The Point”, where the waves are generated – in sets of six at the beginning of our session, and later in sets of 10. An underlying rip that pulls towards The Point makes the paddling process far easier than it normally feels in the ocean.
The rule at Urbnsurf is one surfer per wave, which on the upside means that there is no competitive jostling, but also creates the effect of spectacle, where the audience are all excellent surfers.
I should be able to do this, I think, waiting in the line-up. I’m relatively active! I’m half-decent on a snowboard! I’m … falling face first into a wall of chlorinated water.
Surfing is meditative, Goyma tells me later. When he has a lot on his mind he will sometimes get to work early and surf for a few hours before his shift starts. “It’s a really good release.”
It isn’t exactly cheap, though. Purchasing your own surfing gear secondhand can lower the costs, Goyma says. “You can kit yourself out for probably $500, but you could spend up to $1,500 or $2,000 for a top-of-the-line board and a top-of-the-line wetsuit.”
The adjective I would use to describe my session is exhausting – mainly because I lack what surfing websites call “paddle fitness”.
“You look tired already,” Goyma says, about a third of the way into the session. I pant in the affirmative, miffed that my extensive preparations for this activity – a single 1km swim in a lap pool and some sporadic push ups – have been to no avail.
We happen to be surfing at the same time as Damon Tudor, Urbnsurf’s chief executive, and his young son, whose skill level is already unattainably impressive.
Tudor, who lives in Sydney, grew up surfing in the ocean but sees Urbnsurf as a way to introduce the sport “to people that are maybe not as confident in the ocean as they would be in a controlled environment like this”.
Urbnsurf’s progressive lesson pathway caters for all skill levels, he says. Learn-to-surf and beginner sessions – which start around $69 to $79 – are held in the shallower part of the lagoon, while sessions with wave heights up to two metres cater to advanced surfers.
The clientele is a mix of both oneoff visitors and regulars. “Some people come in once a fortnight, some people come in twice a week,” Goyma says.
Like with any skill, how fast you progress (that is, how quickly you stop embarrassing yourself) depends on the amount of time spent. “We had someone who’d never surfed before – it’s actually one of the staff – and they were surfing in the advanced session after six weeks,” Goyma says.
“I prefer surfing in the ocean for the [overall] experience, being in nature,” he says. But he’s partial to the wave pool for advancing in ability or working on specific skills. “Because it’s so predictable.”
Despite countless wipeouts, I am in good spirits at the end of the lesson. My arms feel heavy but my mind is clear – perhaps it was meditative after all.
People ... are maybe not as confident in the ocean as they would be in a controlled environment
Damon Tudor