ACADEMIC Student Writing
THE WAVE By Angus Mossman (written 2016, Year 11)
hugging me. I get an odd look from the locals in the water (probably because I am the only white kid surfing this wave). I look back to the boat. Dad is giving me a wave with the camera in his hand, while the driver is lighting probably his 50th fag in the past 20 minutes. Sitting on my board. The only thing separating me from the coral under my feet. “Set!” shouts one of the locals in the water. The locals are paddling with such strength towards the waves approaching. Suddenly the warm offshore wind sends a chilly shiver throughout “1,2,3,4,1,2,3,4.” I am shouting out my paddling strokes. I feel a movement drag me, but the water isn’t moving forward. It is sucking from below me. The sound of the water sucking off the dry reef sounds like screaming. Paddling is an absolute understatement for what I am doing (or what I am trying to do). I hear a roar of sound coming from in front of me ... I look up. Fiji is overrated. A five-to-eight- metre-thick wall of water getting ready to break on my head. I’m not a religious person. However, I know that if there was a God ... He does not want mankind to surf these waves. I have had a great life, great family and friends. For some reason the thought of death doesn’t worry me. All I can think about are Abi, Ella and Sally. Their bright, bubbly, enthusiastic way of life makes me thankful to be where I am today. I can’t give up. I have a gift of life, a gift that the girls never got to fully experience. I will not let this wave take away my gift. I my body. Monster waves are charging from the horizon.
12 WAYS INTO A POEM By Alex Hickman (Year 9) How Do I Die? To face a six-foot wall of water Or by spikes from behind Unknowingly over my head Pummelled wave after wave Red mixed with Blue and Green But with a bang, whack, crash and zip A sore hit lip right now. But isn’t that the beauty of it? Surfing is an art, a wellbeing, a true test of physical and mental strength. I’m thankful that I got the chance to be a part of it. could jump off my board, attempt to dive under the monster, scream for help or simply let the wave take me; I won’t. I turn my board around, start the 1,2,3,4 count. I pop onto my feet and catch the wave. The wave is sucking around me; I approach the section of the wave where the lip covers over me. I increase my speed to avoid being too deep in the barrel. I’m in. This is what true beauty is. Only a select number of people in the world get to experience what I am seeing
I’ve seen the perfect waves rolling through on my phone screen, but now I am actually in the midst of it all. I’ve only been to Fiji once before; I can only remember amazing family memories. The boat driver is here. I’m getting on the boat with two boards because when I read the recommendations online when surfing the outer reef, the website says to expect one of your boards to break. Doesn’t really get my hopes up. However, we’re off! The warm tropical wind blows through my hair (that needs to be cut) and for some odd reason, I feel at home, even though I’m thousands of miles from Sumner. The boat driver stops to refill the boat tank while lighting a fag. I see it. Waves delivered from the heavens. The driver stops and mumbles “Marm waiter.” I exchange a confused look with Dad across the two-man dinghy. We are here! Cloudbreak. I can’t help but think. How the hell am I here? Why am I here? I grab my board and dive into the water, I enthusiastically yell out “The water is like a bath!” The driver smiles and repeats “Marm waiter.” I give him a grin and slowly say “Warm water?” He smiles. I am in the majestic warm Fijian ocean, paddling out to the point. Beautiful colours on the reef beneath me, bright blue crystal clear ocean surrounding me ... “Almost here!” The driver shouts.
Because of Dave on a wave Which made some laugh and
others barf A surfboard
A bed A van Bright fluorescent green
Unknowingly over my head Red mixed with Blue and Green But What do we really love?
Christ’s College Canterbury
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