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A new documentary charts the place of surfing in Australian popular culture, writes Fred Pawle
FOR a pastime that is so individualistic and introspective, surfing has inspired some crazily expansive thinkers. While other sports create unimaginative yobbos or trusty conformists, and other hobbies attract train-spotters and zealous bores, surfing breeds people who feel compelled to articulate poetic visions and insights into life and nature.
That their opinions are based on little morethan a lifelong pursuit of getting "shacked" in a green aquatic cave, possibly while under the influence of a mind-altering substance, has never stopped them confidently proclaiming profound knowledge.
Bombora, a documentary about the history of surfing in Australia, is no exception. It's not just the history of a subculture but an ambitious argument that surfing is the ultimate embodiment of Australiana. "It's impossible to imagine what Australia would be like without surfing," surfer and author Tim Winton says in the introduction to the first of the two episodes.
That's a big claim, but the documentary, driven by the encyclopedic and analytical mind of veteran surf journalist Nick Carroll, makes a convincing case: the original European settlers revelled in Australia's warm water, which allowed them to do things they'd never imagined; as the country urbanised, it turned its back on the bush and made the beach its playground; surfers emerged to epitomise the young nation's culture, especially after youthful rebellion became such a ubiquitous rite of passage, and their larrikin spirit was transformed into amultibillion-dollar fashion industry that "would one day outsell the high fashion houses of Europe".
By the end of the second and final episode, the documentary seems unable to decide what is more important: the cultural success of the sport or the esoteric...