To get a wave at Marouba’s Dunny Bowl, you’re gonna have to navigate a pack like this. And no one is stoked. Photo: Don Moon
In September, you may have read when I did a roundup of Europe’s no-fly zones. Localization at waves around the world happens. It’s just part of the game. Australia has its fair share of localized spots. So now, let’s look at the least hospitable pits Down Under.
The Dunny Bowl at Maroubra
Maroubra, in the eastern suburbs of Sydney, is a straightened horseshoe of a beach that provides half-decent, onshore wind-protected peaks along its one-kilometer stretch. The most consistent, and best, of the waves is in the northern end, where a rip bowl breaks in front of the old sewage pipe (a dunny is Australian slang for toilet) providing sharper rights and longer lefts. Its relatively tightly packed take-off zone staffed by incredibly talented surfers in one of Australia’s most high-density population zones would have already made it a tough nut to crack. However, with this break being the spiritual home of the Bra Boys, whose tattooed form of hyper-localism has been well documented, it is a spot that is impenetrable. You can paddle out, and while you might always get a “G’day” and a smile, you’ll rarely get a wave.
Jakes Point, Kalbarri
Jakes Point is designed to keep foreign invaders from breaching its significant defenses like a walled fort on a Tuscan Hill or a moated castle in the Scottish Highlands. Located in Kalbarri, 400 miles north of Perth, this is not just the only wave in the town of 1,500 but the only one for 200-odd miles in either direction. It also only breaks in winter, with locals having to endure a hot, thirsty and waveless summer drought before it bursts to life. Then there is the wave itself. Long, powerful Indian Ocean lines unload on a shallow shelf, just feet from dry rock, then grow in size as it barrels in throaty fashion down the line. The only semi-safe entry point is at the very tip of the point, a three-meter square area held down by multi-generations of ridiculously talented and hard-charging surfers who moonlight as grizzled lobster divers, pub owners, fishermen, mine workers and solar panel installers. They are a friendly bunch, who will often give the respectful visitor the odd imperfect six-foot set wave that can make a year, but you need to be Braveheart to get a set on any good day.
Burleigh Heads
Burleigh Heads has always had a fierce reputation. The famous “Burleigh Barrel” is the flip side to the infamous “Burleigh Burning.” The Cove, the top section of the world-renowned boulder-lined point, is where the long-term locals attempt to maintain some order in one of the most transient surf populations in the world. You can understand their behavior. A look 20-clicks south to the Superbank shows the chaos that can reign when the established surfing norms and lineup etiquette are shredded. Enforcement comes in the form of pure surfing talent (Burleigh’s lineage runs from the Nielson brothers, Munga Barry, Dave Rastovich to current CT surfer Liam O’Brien) to old-school aggression. Often, it’s a hard-to-combat version of both.
Port Campbell
“Your crime, Rip Curl, was to bring the circus to a fragile pristine area of the Port Campbell National Park with only a token effort to protect the place.” That was a letter from Port Campbell Boardriders written in 2003 to Surfing World. It started a “No Exposure” policy to the waves around Port Campbell, on Victoria’s Great Ocean Road. Now the locals will say it was a call for censorship of coverage of the local waves, rather than the surfing of them. It might be an arbitrary distinction, though, and one that might not even be needed. Australian writer Jock Serong said, “What has protected this place for years is not the time-honored tradition of deliberately mangling its name, but the hard, cold fact that there’s very few around who have the equipment and the will to mess with it.”
The waves are big, cold, there are sharks, and uhm, it’s big. Still, if you rock up with a crowd (ie not alone), or bring a photographer, the sharks and 10-second hold-downs will be the least of your worries.
Sandon locals have things to say. Photo: Facebook
Sandon Point
Back in 2003, Sandon Point was named by Tracks magazine as one of the worst places to visit as a surfing outsider. Twenty years on, it seems the locals are keen to hang on to the gong. In June 2023, local media picked up on homemade signs that had been written and hung up by local surfers near the right-hand point break. “Locals only: Blow Ins Not Welcome,” read the crude signs on the path to the paddle out. The point is one of the rare spots on that stretch of coast that can handle strong south swells and winds, and often attracts visiting surfers from Sydney, about a 90-minute drive north. These “blow-ins” get short thrift, and even if you are good enough to negotiate the shallow outside ledge and slabbing, but irregular tubes on the 200-yard racetrack, the pack of talented, hard-charging locals like to keep it a closed shop.
