Surf's Up

I live on one of Sydney's most beautiful beaches and look at the ocean from just about every window in my house. I'm married to a surfer. I even once wrote a novel, Two Shanes, about an Australian surfer in New York. But do you think I like waves? Nup. I'm scared of 'em. So it is quite a turn up for the books, as they say, that I was almost tempted to don a little red and yellow cap and join the corps of the Australian voluntary lifesavers last month after interviewing a swag - parade? - of female lifesavers for The Australian Women's Weekly. (2007 marks the centenary of volunteer lifesaving in Australia.) I'm usually a grouch at the beach - hate the sun, the sand in your bathers, the water which is always too cold, down here at least - but this bevy of beach babes made marching up and down the beach with flags, rowing big surf boats and zooming around on jet skis sound kinda fun. Oh well, in another life. A devoted sybarite, I usually don't do anything that involves rotating your shoulder cuffs. "If you go down to the beach today you’re sure of a big surprise. That lantern-jawed, fair-haired, bronzed lifesaver you remember from your childhood is almost as likely these days to be a woman." That's how the article begins. You can read the rest in the January issue of AWW.