The waves in Angourie are not uniform. They have subtle nuances and moods that shape around the uneven rocks and sand that line the beach. I can not deny the massive advantage the locals have here due to this. It is no wonder they become captivated with this place. Surfers found this place in the 1960s and many that visited just never left.
I met an older guy when we came in to wash down our boards and got to speaking. He came here in 1972 on a surf trip and he is still here, doing exactly the same thing- surfing the local point, catching fish and shaping the odd board.
His name is Matty and we chatted about the world before leg ropes as I had to swim really hard to save my board after mine broke!
I couldn’t help but be amazed with this man. I don’t think I am capable of doing this but totally understand how you can end up finding a way to stay here. Matty opened this blue esky at his beat up car, holding aloft a good size mackerel. I ran up to Lucy the Landy, got some cash, wrapped the fish in newspaper and shoved it inside our car fridge. And so we dined on fresh mackerel, direct from the Pacific ocean, caught by a local old school surfer, who kept shared some awesome stories on the old days. Under a drift wood hut, it was hard to think that life could get any better and that we wouldn’t have our own stories to share of this place.
P.S. – I packed all the tech gear (go pro, iPhone, camera, etc…) but not one recharger. Smart hey?! So folks, no underwater photos, movies etc..