My first time surfing was worth the sandy wheelchair cushion and a grazed chin

As the weather gets chilly across Aotearoa, we wanted to warm up D*List readers with some summer-themed content to brace ourselves for the winter months ahead. Join us as D*List editor Olivia Shivas tries adaptive surfing for the first time.

Looking like a ‘dead body’ was not the description I wanted of myself from my dad after showing him videos of me surfing for the first time. I was never going to look like a sexy surfer chick catching waves and throwing hang tens, but a corpse on a board was not what I imagined.

I’ve been wanting to go to the Disabled Surfing Association’s (DSA) ‘Have A Go’ day for a long time, but I’ve been too scared. Getting thrashed among the waves at Piha is not my idea of fun. I also don’t like sand. Perhaps that’s because I’ve never properly experienced the euphoria of sand between my toes, like many of our bipedal friends describe. Plus anytime my wheelchair goes near sand I’m basically stuck and I then leave a trail of sand wherever I go for the next two weeks and it ends up in the little crevices of my wheelchair where sand shouldn’t be. The lack of accessibility to beaches is also the main barrier, and yes we are starting to get more awareness around beach mats - which I totally encourage - but once I’ve rolled up and down them a few times for the novelty, my use of them doesn't usually go beyond that. 

Despite my prejudice against the sand - even though it hasn’t really done anything against me - and after a bit of encouragement from a friend at my gym who is a DSA volunteer, I finally signed up for a surfing day. To be honest, before the day even arrived it took some mental preparation before I started packing my floral beach tote with Turkish towels and SPF50 sunblock. I first had to accept I wasn’t going to be in control of my mobility. As disabled people, we’re so used to being told to be independent and I manage a pretty independent lifestyle. So to have that independence taken away from you - because you’re being pushed around in a massive beach wheelchair by someone else, controlled by the waves and supported by volunteers while on the actual surfboard - it’s something that my brain doesn’t naturally want to accept.

I also brought along a friend with me I could really trust if things went haywire. Although I wasn’t expecting anything to go wrong because the ratio of volunteers per disabled person was advertised as a minimum of six volunteers (even though there were like 15 around when I was in the water, so if I was ever gonna try surfing this would be the safest way to do it), I just felt at ease bringing along someone I knew. And Izzy was the perfect emotional support person to bring along - she encouraged me and hyped me up on the drive to Piha, she brought snacks and juice to wash my mouth out for the inevitable amount of ocean water I was about to accidentally swallow, and she was just on hand to calm my nerves. 

On the sunny Saturday morning we arrived, a bright blue flag and a gazebo that looked like a wetsuit shop welcomed us where we registered for the day. The first challenge was putting on the wetsuit, which is no easy feat for anyone, let alone if you can’t stand up to wiggle your body into it. After lathering up in sunblock, I said goodbye to my own wheelchair - brb, I said - and made my way down the dunes in the bright, yellow-wheeled chair. I was briefed on what to expect and asked about my own swimming ability. What also reassured me leading up to my turn was that all the other disabled participants came out of the water smiling and keen to have another go. 

As I rolled along the sand, the group of 15 plus volunteers surrounded me as reassurance I would be in safe hands, despite feeling quite overwhelmed being the centre of attention to so many smiley people. As I can’t stand up on my legs, my options were to lie on my back or stomach on the board. I opted to go on my stomach because it felt awkward on my back and not being able to look around. But because my back is fused, I can’t really lean my neck up and it was after the first small waves I went over, when I realised my face would basically be smushed on its side of the board for most of the time. 

That first sensation of catching a wave and feeling the strength of the ocean was thrilling. I know the ocean is powerful, but to feel it in full force was incredible. The volunteers surrounded me as we went out and then turned around on the surfboard when a good wave came along. The times that I did feel like putting my head up, with my chin leaning on the board, I later learned I was actually exfoliating it on the board because it started scabbing up two days later. Even though it felt like I was just lying on this surfboard for no more than 20 minutes, when I got out I felt so tired. My arms were just so tense holding on for dare-life onto that surf board. 

After the surf, I dried out on the sand for an hour and stripped out of the wetsuit because it was hot and pretty suffocating. Then I made my way back to the car park - yay concrete, finally! And the lineup of black wheelchairs from other participants was a funny sight as I had to find my own one. 

People keep asking me if I’d do it again. And despite having an amazing experience, I don’t know if I would say yes straight away. Lying on the surfboard was uncomfortable because I couldn’t bend my back or neck, and it didn’t change my mind about my dislike of sand. I would try again if I added a foam wedge under my chest so I could prop myself up, but I don’t want to come across as a cushy princess. However, I’m so glad I did it because I got that experience out of my system and away from my usual ‘in-control’ comfort zone. I also love testing my body, despite the very achy muscles the next day, and seeing people’s reactions when I tell them I’ve been surfing now.

For more information or to participate in the next surfing day, visit DSA’s website or Facebook group.

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