About me
My Surfing Story
Through the years, surfing became my routine. I’d head out before school or after work, not because I was trying to master it, but because it made me happy. There’s something about the sound of the waves and the salt air that clears your head.
Chance
Storyline
- 1998
I was born in Byron Bay, Australia—basically a surfer’s paradise. Growing up, the ocean was always there, calling to me. My parents say I loved the water before I could even talk.
- 2004
When I was six, my cousin handed down his old surfboard to me. It was battered, way too big, and had a crack near the tail, but I didn’t care. I spent hours trying to stand up, falling off more times than I can count. The first time I caught a wave, though, I was hooked.
- 2009
By the time I was 11, surfing had become part of my daily life. My friends and I would head out before school, paddling into the sunrise. I wasn’t the best in the group—far from it—but it didn’t matter. It was about being out there, feeling the salt on my skin and the rush of the waves.
- 2011
When I was 13, my friends convinced me to enter a local surf comp. I didn’t win (not even close), but I had fun. That day, I realized I didn’t need trophies or recognition. Surfing was my escape, my time to connect with the ocean, and I didn’t want to ruin it by turning it into something stressful.
- 2016
At 18, I started working at a local surf shop. It wasn’t glamorous, but it let me stay close to the surf community and kept my gear in shape. Plus, it gave me the freedom to hit the waves whenever I wasn’t on shift.
- 2018
I saved up for a solo trip to Bali. It was my first time surfing outside Australia, and I’ll never forget it. The waves were different, bigger, and more challenging, but the people I met made the trip unforgettable. Everyone there lived for surfing, and for the first time, I felt like part of something bigger.
- 2020
When the pandemic hit, the world slowed down, but the ocean didn’t. Byron Bay was quieter than ever, and for a while, it felt like I had the waves all to myself. Surfing became my therapy during those strange, uncertain times.
- Today
Now, I’m 25 and still living in Byron Bay. I work full-time at the surf shop, spend my mornings or evenings in the water, and occasionally take trips to explore new waves. I’m not chasing fame or fortune—I just love the way surfing makes me feel alive.