The Lightness Of Being

Bodysurfing is as old as the notion of surfing itself. In essence, it is the act of harnessing the energy of the ocean to propel yourself forth – whether in pursuit of simple pleasure, or in pursuit of a surfboard. It was always an integral part of the great waveriding tradition. Simply put, it is surfing in the most elemental of terms; stripped back to its barest form, without any clutter or distraction.

“I’m always trying to find the most immediate, the most real, raw way of being connected to nature, whatever that may be,” explains freediver and ocean conservationist Hanli Prinsloo. ‘Bodysurfing really shares that purity that freediving offers, just you, your body, your ability and the ocean.”

I first met Mark Cunningham in Ireland in 2001. Bundoran was playing host to the World Masters Surfing Contest and a who’s who of icons were in town to compete, from the two Tom’s – Carroll and Curren – to Rabbit, Kanga, Kong, The Sultan of Speed and The Wounded Seagull, and Simon Anderson riding his game-changing Thruster. And there was Mark – lifeguard from Ehukai Beach Park, running water safety. We spent a lay day in the infamous Bridge Bar, trading tales and talking surfing.

With broad shoulders and a broader smile, he talked in yet broader brush stokes about 25 years spent guarding on the North Shore – nonchalant, sincere, humble. It was only after Mark left that one of the assembled legends leant over and explained to me, with a certain reverence, that I’d just been in the company of the godfather of modern bodysurfing, a man who dominated at Pipeline for some 20 years scooping every title going, setting the template in the style stakes. Quietly committed. And that was my first lesson in bodysurfing – that there’s no room and no need for ego, and it’s a lesson that’s doled out whenever I swim out: body surfers are not at the top of the pecking order, and that’s OK.

“Bodysurfing will never be the ‘cool’ thing to do,” says film director, Tim Burnham, whose multi award-winning documentary Dirty Old Wedge shines a light on the hard charging, fearless crew who dominate Newport Beach’s infamous break. “I think most respect those who can bodysurf well, while not really understanding how or why people do it. If you're bodysurfing for any other reason than it being fun and a challenge, then you're missing the point.”

Speaking with Mark about what it is about bodysurfing that keeps him coming back for more, “it simply feels good”, he says, with his typical demystifying underplay. “I get exercise, I get to go outdoors, I see my friends, and I’m completely surrounded and immersed in Mother Nature.”

Traditional bodysurfing was all about proning shoreward, straight and true, within the mass of a broken wave, arms tucked against the body, with your head leading the way – streamlined, like a dolphin riding the swell lines. Then stand-up surfers discovered the trim, and naturally everything changed, bodysurfing became about the pocket, planing and the open face.

“Bodysurfing is ultimately you and a pair of fins,” says surfer and writer Chris Nelson. “Whether you’re riding big or small waves, you have to put yourself on the peak and under the lip, taking off on the most critical part. You can’t try and take off on the shoulder, you need to stay in the hook, the powerful part of the wave – because you don’t have the drive that a surfboard gives you. If you think about it – your hand becomes the nose of your board and your fin becomes the tail – the trick is to keep the line between the two as pure as possible.”