A few momths back I started a looking back series and then got distracted. It continues here…

I was 26 when I started in youth ministry at Scarborough Baptist Church, my home church, a place where I stayed another 5 years.

In the second year of youth min I also took up a job teaching at Scarborough High School, which meant that on Friday afternoon I taught 30 year nine boys Health Ed and the on Friday night I had them attend youth group. The connection did get tenuous at times!

One of the best things to come of my time as a teacher at Scarb were the surfing camps that I ran during the school holidays. We ran them thru the church, but I’d usually have 5 or 6 of my school students come along to join in.

The old Nissan E20 van went everywhere!

It was rugged old bus with moss growing in the window sills and a motor that was notoriously unpredictable. If it wouldn’t start I would flip the passenger seat to expose it – whip off the air filter and spray a continuous stream of ‘Aerostart’ down the carby until it kicked into action. One day the spray actually caught alight – kinda scary!

When I look back now the thought of taking 10 year 9 boys away on a surfing camp sounds like sheer lunacy. to do anything with 10 year 9 boys s madness, but to go surfing in some of the most dangerous waves in the world was verging on foolishness.

There were times when I drove out of the carpark saying ‘thank you God’ as we managed to put 10 boys in the water and take 10 boys out of the water. That infamous surf at Moses Rock when it was bloody huge was a case in point. What was I thinking to paddle out there myself let alone take those kids with me?! ONe sat out the back nearly the whole time while another got washed in about 1 km up the shore… Funny thing is, 2 of the boys are now top surfers and you see their name in competition schedules around the place.

Perhaps the most memorable experience were the 3 days we had at Windmills, a swell magnet out near the lighthouse. It was 4-5ft and perfect for 3 days straight and we had it to ourselves. (Hey who wants to hang out with 10 young boys!)

Occasionally I think I’d like to do it all again around here, but I’m not sure I am quite as patient or as surf crazy to make it a goer!buried alive divx online

Surfing has been a huge part of my life since I was 10 years old.

It started with a GT foamie (polystyrene) down at Trigg beach and then graduated to a ‘Little Ripper’ – also a foamie – a much waited for Christmas present that lasted a day before snapping in half.

At 10 years old I wasn’t allowed down the beach on my own. I thought I’d be ok, but mum and dad were both a bit concerned about rips etc. They told me I could go alone when I was 13. I couldn’t wait. I was starting to become an addict and would have spent every day at the beach if it were possible.

At the start of year 8 myself and a couple of mates bought an old kneeboard for $10.00 – our first venture in fibreglass – real surfing! It was actually a malibu that someone had sawed in half and ‘converted’. It went much like a surfboard that had been sawn in half, so by Easter I was trading it in on a $25.00 piece of junk down at Tom Blaxell’s old shop. It was a horrible ugly single finned beast, but it was all I could afford. It was a start…

Around this time mum went away for a few weeks and I managed to somehow find my way to the beach on my own. I was 12 after all. I could handle it.

I had some wonderful surfs on that disgusting, waterlogged piece of crap before it snapped in half also and I left it in the bin down at the beach. But now there was no turning back. A number of secondhand boards followed, some decent, others impulse decisions that went like small battle ships in the water.

By mid way thru high school I was a fully fledged surfer though. Not just the sit on the beach and pretend kind, but an actual get amongst it, get pummelled kind. I have great memories of Trigg point pre crowds, when it was still possible to get a wave to yourself, of classic days sitting out there while some of the best waves I had ever seen rolled by. I used to skip school about one day in every week to go surfing and dreamt of the day I would travel the world on surfing expeditions.

Throughout high school there were regular 4am bike rides to the beach, sometimes managing to get 3 surfs in before coming home. We began to enter than zone where life was ruled by the swell and the wind. (I still have that vital info located on the sidebar of my blog as essential info)

Before long it came time to buy my first brand new board. I had left school and had survived several fairly bone crunching surf trips down south and felt I was now of sufficient stature to buy a decent board.

The Winnie was a 5′ 8″ thruster – almost as wide as it was long! It was the early days of three fins and still the era of ultrashort boards. I was 19 when I bought this one and it lasted me many memorable Lancelin trips and many ventures to Margaret River and Yallingup. Ironically the biggest waves I have ever caught were on this tiny piece of glass and foam.

I remember being out in 6-8 ft onshore ‘Suicides’, the southern and less crowded wave at Margaret River mainbreak, and riding the Winnie on some waves I wouldn’t go anywhere near these days. I remember 3 magical days at 6 ft Guillotines with Troy. I still wonder what was I doing out there on a 5′ 8″ toy?

Sadly the Winnie’s day came when fashions changed and longer boards came back in.

This photo is one of me with my then pride and joy – the kinda board that goes in the front seat of your car, while your girlfriend sits in the back. If you’re not a surfer then that last sentence wont make any sense at all. If you are then share your own favourite stories in the comments!

For some reason tonight I was sorting photos. I had a box of over 1000 or so pics just sitting there, so I decided it was time to cull them.

However in the process I came across a few stories I’d love to tell – memories that either warm my heart or puzzle me or just make me giggle.

So this ‘category’ will last until I have recorded all the images and enjoyed ‘looking back’. This is more for my benefit, but you might find some of the stories amusing or encouraging as you read.

The first story starts when I went back to teaching at Scarborough High School, at the same time as leading a youth ministry at Scarborough Baptist Church.

I was given a bunch of Phys Ed classes, but because I was light on my timetable, to make sure I had enough hours they gave me the ESU class – the ‘special’ kids – and my job was to teach them computers… This was (believe it or not) before I had ever switched on a computer.

We lasted one lesson. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing and even though there were only 8 of them it was a nightmare. Attention spans were at an all time low and social skills were on a par.

I was very worried. I had spent most of my teaching and coaching focussing on the elite end of the scale, so to be given the opposite end of the spectrum looked like it was going to be a challenge well beyond me.

I went to see the deputy principal and explained that as I had never used a computer, it was unlikely that I was going to be much chop at teaching it (duh…) She agreed and told me that I could basically do whatever the hell I liked so long as it gave their regular teacher a break and it was legal.

Now you’re talkin…

So what do you with do a small group of intellectually and socially disabled kids for 2 double periods a week?

I don’t remember all of what we did, but I do remember thinking that this was a time to really give these kids a buzz – to do some stuff that would make them feel ‘special’ in a healthy way and to have a heap of fun!

I remember taking them shopping for food so we could do some cooking, heading off roller blading, running their own athletics carnival for them complete with trophies for each of them, watching movies and then there was 10 pin bowling…

The bus in the pic was my own old Nissan E20 van. I could pile them all into this old beast and go anywhere I liked. Ten pin bowling was probably my fondest memory. The little fella third from the right called Rory could hardly lift the ball let alone roll it down the aisle. But he had a go and really enjoyed it. We all had lots of laughs because I was about as bad as them.

What was cool though was that 6 years later Rory was competing in the WA Special olympics in – of all sports – 10 pins bowling! Danelle and I laughed as we remembered this scawny year 8 who couldn’t fnd his way round the school now the WA champion with a score close to 200. The pic below is of the opening ceremony of the WA special olympics where I was invited (as Rory’s ex teacher) to go and ‘open the games’.

Rory was a real special kid.

I remember him coming to class without his sports gear the first few times we did phys ed – he was in my phys ed class as well – and always coming late to our ‘life skills’ class. He just couldn’t remember his timetable and he was scared of everything and everyone. The new semester was terrible for Rory as he was only just getting the hang of where to go after semester1 when all the classes changed!

He began to come to our youth group on a Friday night. Danelle and I picked him up and took him home each night. As we did we got to see some of his life – his drug addict, ex-con father who treated him brutally and his mum who seemed to care, a little. Rory had a terrible speech impediment, a fear of any discipline at all – I reckon he’d been abused badly – but he became a great little friend.

What difference did we make in Rory’s life?

Who knows… As is so often the case though, Rory made a difference in my life as I discovered I could love him and the rest of the ‘dream team’.

The year I spent teaching the ‘special kids’ was definitely one of the best I ever had as a teacher.down to you dvd