I meet David Flood and James Carey, captain and treasurer, respectively, of Trinity’s Surf Club, under the Campanile, and we all hit it off immediately. The interview has barely started, but the two guys are already off discussing what makes the surf club great.
Walking around Front Square during Freshers’ Week, my eye was drawn on numerous occasions to the Trinity Surf Club’s stand. Decked out with surfboards, the surfers chatted good-naturedly with passers-by and handed out colourful stickers. I had flirted with the idea of doing a feature on the club before, but it was their passion for the club that really motivated me to get in touch.
Admittedly a niche sport, the club nevertheless boasts 490 members. Although, not all of these members are surfers, and many join for the diverse range of events the club organises each year.
The weekend before I met Flood and Carey, almost 300 students had headed off to Lahinch for the annual “Wind Wave Rave” festival, organised by Trinity Sailing,Trinity Wind and Wake, the surf club and Dublin University DJ Society (DUDJ). They had camped in a field and pitched a circus tent where the DJs played at night. During the day, they headed to the beach to hang out and surf. For total beginners who wanted to learn how to surf, members of the surf club were on-hand to show people the basics.
It’s not what it’s about in terms of being a competitive sporting club. It’s an excuse to meet up in a nice place with new people you haven’t met
Snacks were provided for the attendees by the Food and Drink Society, and the campsite was spruced up by the same people behind the art installations at Trinity Ball. The guys see this trip as a special time. “The surf trip is a trip you can make friends on”, Carey tells me. This was certainly true for Flood when he attended in first year. “There was a lot of nice people that I didn’t know. You’d see them around college and they’d give you a nod. As a first year you have your few schoolmates you went in with, but by and large it’s so much more alien than school. It’s nice having the captain of the surf club giving you a wave.”
Nature and surfing go hand in hand. With this in mind, it’s unsurprising that surfers tend to be environmentally aware. On camping, Flood says: “It can get a bit scaldy but it’s good fun. We were way more environmentally aware this year because last year I think the place was left in a bit of a kip.”
As well as cleaning up after themselves, this year the surf club appointed their first environmental officer, Shibeal McCann. She accompanied the surfers down to Lahinch and spent time taking botanical and nitrate samples as well as testing the seawater. “The water was fine”, Carey reassures me. Both of them are clearly proud of their commitment to sustainability. Last week they invited Fergal Smith, an ex-professional surfer turned community farmer, to speak with the club. He quit professional surfing because of concerns about the pollution caused by all of the flights he was taking and is now an advocate for sustainable living.
When I ask them how many people surf in the club Carey turns to Flood and rephrases my question, “How many people surf on the committee?” “Everyone gives it a shot”, Flood replies tentatively. The club is clearly not the elitist group of board-toting surfer dudes I had expected. Flood explains that the surf club is less about surfing and more about the communal aspects. “It’s not what it’s about in terms of being a competitive sporting club. It’s an excuse to meet up in a nice place with new people you haven’t met.”
Out of 490 members, apparently 400 have little to no experience of surfing. “Of course we encourage it. You want to get as many people in the water, but at the same time I was told by loads of people ‘I don’t plan on going surfing at all’. It’s fine”, says Carey.
You’re in Africa, you’ve got that exotic appeal, Carey muses. The surfers also hang out together on the beach playing frisbee and, surprisingly, chess
The club’s flagship event every year is their trip to a small town called Taghazout in Morocco. They fly out during reading week in second term and spend a week basking in the hot Moroccan sun, eating fresh food on the beach and surfing. “You’re in Africa, you’ve got that exotic appeal”, Carey muses. The surfers also hang out together on the beach playing frisbee and, surprisingly, chess.
“Chess got pretty big as well, I’m not sure why”, Flood laughs. The surf club committee rents out a house for themselves to stay in, but also invite anyone who is going on the trip alone to stay with them.
Surfing is a simple sport, yet it has a distinctive culture and spirituality connected to it. This is not lost on Carey. “It’s weird that we go out just to come back in again and keep doing that. In and out, in and out, in and out.” Irish surfing is a very different animal to the brand of surfing we see on television from California or Australia, but Carey likes it that way. “It’s cold water and then you’re looking back into the shore and there’s huge big cliffs and mountains. It could be raining, it could be windy but it’s dramatic and it’s more like real surfing. It’s not the commercial idea of what surfing is.”
Before my meeting with Flood and Carey, I had a passing interest in surfing. I thought it looked fun and was drawn to the laid-back nature of the sport, even if my knowledge of it was confined to watching Blue Water High as a child, so our meeting was educational.
The stereotype in my head about surfers was summed up well by Carey as he described the common perception of the surfer – the “long blonde hair, kind of boardshort wearing, ‘what’s up dude’”.
And yet after learning more I have realised that surfing and the surfing community in Trinity carry a lot more meaning than I expected. It’s about simple living, community, friendships, nature and of course the thrill of catching a wave. It’s a sport and a way of life bundled into one. All you need is a board and an intrepid spirit.
