Surf! My first swim at shark bay. A ray glides away just as my foot floats down towards it. The boys crash and leap down sanddunes. Maia heads straight for the water. Before 9am we are in the surf, wearing my gran’s old swimmers, plain blue with stars. I remember gran surfing the waves, zooming through the water, head up to breathe mid-wave. One arm thundering over again and again to keep up speed.
I have such vivid memories of gran, mum and uncle tom surfing the white water. It’s heaven. Pure joy. So many good memories of being little; growing up over my own summers down here. The long, hot, sandy school holidays.
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