About Gold Coast Surf Travel
“The Goldie, mate!”
The Gold Coast on Australia’s eastern flank is the land of milk and honey for Aussie frothers and some of the country’s best surfers. Anchored by the iconic breaks at Snapper Rocks and Kirra, the surf can be downright mesmerizing when a good cyclone swell slams the coast. An incubator of surf talent, from the halcyon days of Michael Peterson, Wayne “Rabbit” Bartholomew and Peter “PT” Townend in the burgeoning 1970s to the “Coolie Kids” of Mick Fanning, Joel Parkinson and Dean Morrison, there has been no shortage of world-class wave-riders to indulge themselves on the Gold Coast. Snapper, sometimes referred to as the “Super Bank” when the sand and swell are just right, is always sure to draw a crowd when its firing. Over the hill at Duranbah, or D-Bah, beachbreak peaks aplenty. And when it comes to a lively nightlife, Coolie’s got plenty of that too. Not exactly a soul surfer’s paradise, for the young, eager and energetic, there’s always something happening on the Goldie.
Kirra:
The world’s best wave? Could be. It’s up there. Around a 15-minute drive south of Burleigh Heads, Kirra Point is the logical northern limit of the fabled “Coolie”, Coolangatta, Queensland’s most southeastern town and the home of a long line of surfing legends. It’s flanked at its top end by a rock groyne (Big Groyne) that finishes Coolangatta Beach, and at its bottom end 400 yards down the line by another groyne (Little Groyne), protecting Kirra Beach to the north. Between the groynes is the original point, a scattered lava outcropping extended from a headland to its south. Also between the groynes is stretched the long lethal ribbon of sand responsible for Kirra’s supertube magic.
Because it’s tucked inside the line of Point Danger, the place gets less swell than any of the other Gold Coast points. Kirra wakes up in solid east and northeast swells from cyclones and long angled South Pacific fetches. These swells hit the sandbar at a nice 45-degree angle and suck their ways with increasing intensity toward Little Groyne and sometimes even past it. When the sand is right it’s literally sectionless, the barrel forming and reforming like some sort of incredible moving version of the Flowrider wave machine, yet with all the weight of the ocean pushing behind it. Large volumes of water run down the outside rim of the sandbar, which makes paddling back out a grueling proposition; many experienced Kirra surfers just get out of the water at a ride’s finish and jog back up along the rim of the point to the jumpoff point.
The sand is not consistent; it shifts between groynes, and in the past it’s even created a heavy big left across from the natural point, which shows in very north-angled cyclone swells. But it’s rare that you won’t find a good 100-yard tube section somewhere along the groyne-to-groyne stretch.
Kirra’s only drawback — other than the technical challenge of riding it successfully, which might be beyond a lot of surfers more used to mellower waves — is its location right in the middle of one of the world’s most populous surf zones, which means virtually every time it breaks, there’ll be over 200 people in the lineup. It’s every other pointbreak on steroids, and everyone expects you to fall off, so they just drop in. Ouch.
Snapper Rock:
This is the southernmost tip of the Gold Coast, where the Australian coastline swings open to the east and the Tweed River pours out its sand across the Queensland/New South Wales border. Let’s start with the north side of the point.
Here begins the extraordinary line of Snapper Rocks, Rainbow Bay, and Greenmount Point, almost a mile of right sandbar pointbreak and probably the single most crowded surfing area in the whole wide world. The waves begin at Snapper, a gnarly outcrop of old lava rock set sideways to the line of coast; often they kick off with a dramatic backwashy takeoff literally behind the rock, and run past another, smaller outcrop known as Little Marley Point a couple hundred yards down the line, before opening up into Rainbow Bay’s deeper waters. Sometimes there’s a slight degrading in the ride through this very long open-water section, but the view is pretty amazing — down the line you can see all the way to Kirra over a mile away, and directly in front looms the aptly-named Greenmount Point, a low headland of grass and trees and walking trails. Greenmount leads the wave off for at least another 300 yards down toward Coolangatta Beach, where it finally semi-closes out before hitting the Kirra Big Groyne.
Northerly sand flow toward and around Snapper Rocks has recently been enhanced by river dredging from over a mile south, past the Tweed River; as a result, the sand storage through the bay has never been richer, and some old time locals say the Greenmount section is currently (as of mid-2002) at its best ever.
A classic ritual for good surfers is this: Ride a wave off the outside Snapper takeoff, connect it as far as possible, pick off another from wherever number one fizzles out, and keep connecting waves right through to Coolangatta Beach — then walk (or run) the mile of beach and trail back to Snapper’s jump-off zone just inside the rock line. This ridiculous exercise regime may be unmatched in the civilized surfing world, and goes a long way to explaining why so many of the better Snapper surfers are rake-thin and damn good paddlers.
On a good day, it’s possible to count over 1,000 surfers in the water along this amazing stretch. Yet the lineup is so broad and immense, the paddle so all-encompassing, that somehow the crowd takes care of itself, and after a few days’ sustained swell battering, 75 percent have had enough. That’s when the dawn patrol pays off.
Around the corner, south of Snapper Rocks and Point Danger, lies the super-beachbreak of Duranbah. This super-consistent spot relies on a breakwall separating it from the mouth of the Tweed River; sand deposits outside the wall line tend to break up and refract incoming southeast swells into juicy peaks, with short tube sections and ramps, etc, if you’re into that sort of thing. This is where Parko, Fanning, Morrison, and every other hot Snapper surfer going back to Rabbit learned to rip, and if you surf there, you’ll find out why.
The Alley:
Visible from the Gold Coast Highway is Currumbin’s famous point, The Alley. Nowhere near as famous as Burleigh, Kirra or Snapper, the Alley can be as good or better – particularly when it’s big.
Watch out for the rocks on the take-off and be careful negotiating the rock jump. If in doubt, paddle out from the beach on the south side.
Burleigh Heads:
The coast they call Gold begins just south of Stradbroke Island and curves down for nearly fifty miles to Point Danger. Along this massive sandy stretch, the lava headland of Burleigh Bluff stands forth as the northernmost sentinel of a classic series of right points, and — when it’s on — one of the most spectacularly beautiful waves in the world.
Burleigh relies for its magic on sandflow from the Tallebudgera Creek mouth just south of the bluff. This fine river sand is carried with the prevailing currents around the front of the bluff and down its rocky north-facing edge in a long thin shallow band. It’s not always a consistent band; for months, Burleigh can be reduced to a closed-out mess by bad sand distribution. But more often than not, the sand line is relatively straight and laid on a perfect angle for any swell with a hint of southerly angle. Imagine a super hollow warmwater version of Rincon and you’re almost there, though comparisons don’t do justice to Burleigh’s glassed-off sucking marvel.
There’s several distinct sections. Outside you’ll find Sharkies, the aptly-named first section, breaking across the front of the bluff; thick, hollow and often closing out down to the bowling pits at The Cove, where Burleigh point begins to curve back toward the beach. The Cove’s standup barrelling peaks run 80 yards or so down to The Point, where Bureigh’s legends reside; The Point is a long walling ride spinning along the fine sandbar edge, where on a reasonably good day, five to ten second tubes are harvested with almost every passing set.
Inside The Point, right along the bluff’s rim, lies Rockbreak, a lesser longish wave, best at high tide and ridden mostly on smaller days — chest high and less — when The Point is just capping, not funnelling. Rockbreak is so named after the slimy basalt boulders over which it bumps and grinds. Very occasionally, The Point’s sand line drifts right into Rockbreak, forming a disgustingly epic 150-yard-plus roping barrel (see photograph); don’t count on this, but if you score it, you’ll not soon forget it.
Many pleasant beachbreaks surround Burleigh, including the often super-fun peaks along Palm Beach, south of Tallebudgera Creek, and toward Nobbys headland north of the point. Go south beyond Palmy and you’ll come across the coast’s best kept non-secret, Currumbin Alley, a lovely rivermouth right sandbar and focus of huge tow-in activity during rare giant swells.
Burleigh has two important hangups. One: the aforementioned rock. Rock-jumping is often the only sensible means of access during a real swell, and by the Lord, it isn’t too dang sensible at that. Take your time and watch a local before giving it a shot. And, two: those locals. Great guys if you know ’em, but they have black belts in Outwitting Newcomers for Position. Let ’em go and maybe they’ll let you go next time.