By Phil Jarratt
A misadventure in the surf can happen to anyone, anytime, but it’s probably more likely to happen when you’re 80 rather than 18.
Little Mick Reale is undoubtedly Noosa’s best and keenest octogenarian surfer, a smiling presence in the water on the points or the beach breaks at Noosa West, waiting his turn and, like the rest of us, happy to pick up the leftovers on crowded days. But things weren’t going his way when he decided to have a paddle at the break in front of Access 11 on the West beach.
Mick takes up the story: “There was a little wave out there, not too bad and not many people around, so I went out. But I’d forgotten my leg rope and, on top of that, I had sun lotion on my hand, which doesn’t make it easy to hang onto your board.
“Anyway, I caught a couple of waves, then I’m paddling back out and a couple of bigger ones pop up out the back. The first one I make it over, the second one I’m paddling up the face and it throws me back over the falls, and somehow the board flies up in the air and lands right on my head.”
A week later, almost ready to get back on the horse, so to speak, Mick shows me the wound, still dark and swollen through his thinning patch of silver hair.
“I had no idea what happened but I was almost out of my depth in the water and could hardly stand up. I was very dizzy and didn’t really know where I was. I must have waded into the deep-water gutter and suddenly I’m going down and I didn’t have the power to swim,” he said.
The frightening moment took Mick back to 1956, when as a 14-year-old he was travelling alone across the Indian Ocean on a passenger liner to join his family who had migrated from their home in Italy.
But he wasn’t alone in his basic cabin which was crowded with other boys when a giant wave crashed through the open porthole, swamping them. While others panicked, Mick started bailing water. That evening at dinner the captain called him up to award his heroism.
Mick had paid it forward, and the other day at Access 11 he called it back.
“There was a couple nearby with one longboard between them. I think she was trying to teach him to surf. I put my hand up and said, ‘Please help me!’”
Sydney’s surfing world was about to be turned upside down with the introduction of the modern Malibu surfboard when Mick’s family settled in Dee Why on the northern beaches, but Mick and his brother made their first forays into real waves on the rubber mats with grip handles known as surf-o-planes. There were some wild wipeouts but Mick found solace in the surf from the trials of speaking no English and struggling at school.
Well-known Noosa senior surfer Glenn Martin was an early schoolfriend who remembers helping his little mate out of a few schoolyard problems.
Marto was already proficient on a surfboard and, after a few sessions borrowing a board from local champ Doug Andrew or his brother, so was Mick.
He recalls: “Then I got a longboard of my own and rode that through the ‘60s, but on a surf trip to Terrigal my board got knocked off and I came home without one.
“Then I got to know [surfboard manufacturer] Shane Stedman and he got me onto one of his seven foot pop-outs, a Shane Standard. I surfed on and off throughout my life in Sydney, although I worked six days a week and had time out for injuries from other sports.”
Mick started out his working life running a mixed business at Dee Why with his brother, but when the competition from Woolworths got too tough, he went to work for them. Later, he got a job in the publishing room at the Fairfax Newspapers plant in Ultimo, stuffing inserts into the paper and loading them onto trucks. When the publishing room became mechanised, he befriended one of the insert machine experts, learnt the skills and became an operator for the next 20 years.
It was an up and down life, but Mick never lost his smile and never lost his love of surfing, so when he retired he moved north to Noosa to be with his children and grandchildren. And then, one day last week, he thought he was going under.
“I was nearly unconscious but this couple got me onto the board and pushed me towards shore. We got to the beach and they helped me find the board down near the river mouth.
“I managed to walk back but I was really groggy and don’t remember much about it, but what I do remember is that suddenly those people were gone and I hadn’t even thanked them or found out their names. All I know is that the bloke had a beard and the girl was wearing flippers. That’s not much help, is it?”
Well, maybe. If you’re out there, bearded man and lady in flippers, know that an 80-year-old surfer thanks you from the bottom of his baggies.
By the time you read this, Mick will be back in the line-up and loving it.
His advice to silver surfers?
“Never give up. It comes down to keeping reasonably fit, watching what you eat and drink. I try to look after myself. I used to coach soccer teams so I know what to do. I’ll have a couple of glasses of wine or a couple of beers, but that’s about it.
“I love my coffee though, and I make a bloody good one.”
