I’m hoping that’s because when I’m in the water I’m pretty laid back. I never snake. I only ever drop in by accident – and I’ll always pull out and apologise. I’ll always give a local priority. I try to be nice and chat to people in between sets.

I’ve hit some pretty crowded and localised breaks during my travels – and indeed at home – and I’ve never really had any bad vibes in the water. Until today, when some obnoxious local decided to be a right dickhead and ruined my session.

I’d gone for a mid-morning surf at The Wreck in Byron – the waves were pretty small compared with the last few days (it’s been pumping) but there were some nice sets rolling through and a lot of them were clearly lefts – stoked.

I paddled out no worries, avoiding the dumping sandbank, and set myself up among the small group already out – mainly longboarders but with a few smaller sticks out there too. I sat there for a while waiting for the pack to rotate and picked a nice wave rolling in as my first.

I was sat quite far out and was clearly paddling early and going to peel left.

Then some freaking local dude snaked right in as I was  mid-pop. The next thing I know, he’s peeled right and collided with my board!

Him peeling right caught me well off-guard – the right-hand side of the Wreck contains all manner of twisted metal and nasty stuff, so it’s only really a right at high tide.

We both decked it, and on surfacing I did some damage control (despite him being in the wrong). I apologised and expected him to say “no worries” and us both to paddle back out and get on with our session, simply writing off that wave. I guessed it was an honest mistake, the result of a lack of communication.

Not likely.

This guy squared right up to me and started mouthing off – then started pushing me around.

WTF?!

HE snaked me.

HE collided with me.

No boards were dinged, and no-one was hurt. So what the hell was his deal?!

And on top of that he decided to go one further – telling me that he was going to be on my back all session and “making sure I didn’t get another wave”.

Jesus Christ – what sort of vibe is that?!

So I thought sod it. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with people being like that today and got out and moved to a different spot. But it’s still puzzling me now. Why, on a moderate day, with only a small pack out, would anyone get that worked up?

Chill the fuck out!

Let’s not forget why we surf – it’s our passion. Somewhere along the way, a minority of surfers forgot that. They forgot that we’re all in the same ocean; forgot that there’s plenty of waves; forgot the very basis on which surf culture is founded – laid-back people enjoying and harnessing nature to have fun.

Let’s not lose that vibe, people.

Keep the stoke.

Be forgiving.

…I’m sure karma will get that dickhead surfer though. Sweet, sweet karma!

But there’s been something lacking; something my brother has had no shortage of – surf.

I’ve spent five months on an island that’s host to some of the best surf breaks in the world, surrounded by crystal-clear, warm water. But I spent three of those five months without surf. I’ll admit it: I cried a little.

There are many reasons for my surfless Oz adventure. I spent a month in Cairns, the awe-inspiring Barrier Reef providing some salt-water therapy during my dive course… But there was no decent surf for thousands of kms.

The second month I spent travelling from Perth to Darwin. Sure, western Oz has some of the most insane line-ups you could ever get your stick wet in, and the mutant slabs of Margaret River offer suicidal-looking, dredging barrels on the right swell. But there wasn’t any. It looked promising for one brief day, but there was no way I was going to tackle 6-foot shore dumps in just inches of water – I left that to the local spongers.

Then I hit Sydney, home of the infamous Bondi beach. What a let down. The conditions weren’t appealing, especially after a couple months out of the water: shallow sandbanks, heavy shore breaks and hefty rip currents.

But things have changed over the last two months. I’m slowly turning the tide on my brother’s tales of winter swell. I’m living the dream in a van on the East Coast. The sun is shining and the swell is consistent. And my brother gets more and more pissed off every time he checks his email or Facebook.

It hasn’t been an easy two months, not by a long shot. I’ve had to go through the ordeal of re-losing my surf virginity, in Australian waters on unfamiliar breaks.

I grabbed my 9 footer and enthusiastically got stuck in to something I thought I could easily handle at Manly beach: 3-4 foot. But I was out of practice, out of energy, and out of patience. I spent the very brief session trying to re-learn the sets, paddling unsuccessfully into waves and resigning myself to white-water rides.

Things began to pick up when I headed to the Great Ocean Road, and I enjoyed a smaller session at Torquay beach, and another on the way back at some nice horseshoe bay. I felt better – I’d eased myself in and taken it slow; I was getting to know the ocean again before going all the way.

I made my way up to Byron, hitting a high with a sunset session at Park Beach North in Coffs Harbour; a slightly more punchy left with the advantage of being the only one out – every surfer’s dream.

Since arriving at Byron, I’ve scored numerous session at The Pass, Clarkes Beach and Watego. I’m back in the pack again.

I’m now holed up on the Gold Coast before heading to Noosa for some proper logging waves. I’m in the water most days and my stamina and performance are slowly picking up.

Yes, this article is meant to make you jealous of the fact that I’m sunning it up, sampling beautiful breaks, free of the constraints of the English climate and the rubber it requires. But – more importantly – I hope it makes you realise the importance of getting in the water as often as possible, even if it’s just to paddle up and down the beach.

Re-losing your surf virginity is painful and annoying.

Make your mum proud – stay a surf slut.