By RON LANE
I SAW him standing in the crowd in the bar of the Brothers Rugby League Club in Brisbane. His name was Lawrie Kavanagh and he was a sports writer for the Brisbane Courier-Mail. Suddenly he turned, saw me and, without a moment’s hesitation, pushed his way through to where I was standing. I knew what was coming.
It was a Sunday winter’s night, early 1960, and a group of us Noosa clubbies who lived in Brisbane, had gathered for drinks following a Brothers game at Lang Park.
“Are you blokes still good mates, still drinking together at the Reef?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “We sure are, and what’s more, it’s going to stay that way.”
“I don’t believe it … bloody unbelievable. Every other surf club in Queensland is having blues with the board riders and you and the local boardies are good mates and drink together.”
With that he turned to one of my companions and asked: “He is serious … you blokes drink together?”
“We sure are,” came the reply.
With that he stared at me for a moment, shook his head and walked away mumbling.
“You are a rare breed, you lot … I don’t believe it, I just don’t believe it.”
That week an article appeared in the Courier-Mail. It described what was to become one of the proudest chapters in the history of our club – the friendship between the Noosa life savers and the local board riders.
The surfboard riding craze had taken off with a vengeance and the nice, quiet, tranquil life that we enjoyed into the 1960s was about to vanish forever. The locals who had taken to the sport were small in number and because of this, friction between them and the Noosa clubbies was nonexistent.
A common area we shared was the famous First Point at Main Beach.
In those days, good big waves were common in this area. The body surfing life savers and the local board riders shared the waves with no problems. To them we were known as the ‘body boys’ and it was quite common for them, when paddling out through the surf to stop, drop their legs over the side of their boards and chat for a few minutes.
Those were the days when all we had for our rescue work was the old reel line and belt and a resuscitation method called mouth-to-mouth.
So it was inevitable that as the sport of board riding became the thing, rescues at the First Point started to happen.
This came about as a result of non-swimmers and non-surfers buying boards and trying to join the fraternity. With leg ropes not yet on the scene, many would-be surfers found themselves in trouble.
When this occurred the first on scene were usually the local board riders working the First Point.
They would quickly gather in the swimmer and raise their arm in the recognised distress signal. The person in trouble – referred to by our patrols as the patient – would be supported until the patrol beltman arrived to take charge. Then the line crew would pull the beltman and his patient back to the beach.
It was when the beltman arrived that the verbal exchange, that was to become common between the two groups would take place.
“Thanks a lot fellers,” the beltman would call out. And the locals’ reply was always the same: “Don’t thank us here mate, thank us up the Reef.”
This we would always do and as a result many happy evening was spent together. The general consensus was that both the clubbies and the boardies had three common goals: a good Noosa wave, a cold beer and a pretty girl. And usually in that order.
Another thing helped our friendship. The locals had grown in number and were talking about the possibility of forming a board riders club.
With no clubhouse of their own I, as the surf club captain – in those days referred to as King Clubbie by the boardies – was approached regarding the possibility of their holding a meeting in our clubhouse.
We agreed but on two conditions. First they learn two of our signals, the distress signal, which they already knew and the assistance required, the arm waved from side to side above the head. Second they had to let us teach them mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. This was readily agreed to and their meeting went ahead.
There can be no doubt that as a result of the teamwork between the two local groups there are now many people walking around this great country of ours who would otherwise be six feet under or floating in a watery grave.
The trouble that on occasions did arise was always caused by the arrival of Brissoes (surfers from Brisbane) or Gold Coasters. They found it hard to accept that the flagged area on Noosa’s Main Beach was for them a no-go zone.
The local lads were happy with the arrangement that the area from in front of the clubhouse, where the stairs are now located, back to First Point was, in time of big surf for board riders only. Down through the years conditions changed and the good riders moved out into the National Park areas and the First Point became mainly a hangout for beginners. Also by this time a lot of clubbies had taken up board riding. However the body boys continued to surf the Point.
Years ago with the arrival of surfing festivals the hand of friendship was again extended. By this time the inflatable rescue boat (IRB) and the jet boat had become the major rescue crafts for the life saving clubs.
As these were available as roving patrols, the patrol captain would always instruct the patrol: “Move out behind the competitors and be available for back-up if required.”
The festival officials would always be informed and sometimes requests made by them would be acted on.
The naming of the Noosa National Surfing Reserve is something that not only our community, but all surfers should be proud of.
A very big pat on the back should go to Phil Jarratt, all his supporters and sponsors for their years of hard work, and above all their loyalty to the surfing fraternity; let’s also acknowledge the young surfers such as Julian Wilson who by their outstanding achievements have done wonders to promote the name Noosa.
Although his name is now long forgotten, I pause to dip me lid to that enterprising journalist, who in 1959, in a small – soon to be discontinued – surfing magazine, took the time to write the article that started it all: “Noosa Heads the Unknown Paradise”.
