Sunset on Tangalooma Beach, looking back towards the Queensland coast, as the dolphins gather to feed. Photo / Ewan McDonald
"Board up, elbows up, legs down, chest down
Board up, elbows up, legs down, chest down"
We've heard this. Forty or more times. It's become a mantra.
Maybe 50 of us are standing on top of an improbably golden sand dune that soars 42m, give or take, straight up into an impossibly blue sky. On an island 75 minutes by fast catamaran from Brisbane.
Some of us are Kiwi. Lots of them are Aussie. Even more are Chinese on package holidays. Some are athletic. More are teenage, or 6, or possibly 7. One of us is the scrawny-tending-towards-sunburned-chicken-legged white guy. That one would be me.
Too soon it's my turn. Norm, the impossibly chirpy bus driver / tour guide / nature adviser / sand toboggan mentor, repeats the chant.
I look over the rim of the sand dune, shuffle my hips back down the piece of chipboard, and remember my fear of high things like ... Too late. Norm has launched me into the void. I am exhilarated.
For at least 3m until I forget to keep my elbows up like wings, or my board raised. I eat sand. It has found every crevice of my body, and some I had forgotten I had.
Carrying my board to the bottom of the dune, I applaud the photographer for managing to get an in-focus shot of me coming down the mountain in the split-second before I faceplanted.
The 6-year-olds pick themselves up, dust themselves off, and start all over again on the hike up the dune for another ride.
Image 1 of 8: Board up, elbows out, legs down, chest down ... the correct technique means you don't eat sand. Photos / Kellie Blizard
Don't return from that long-awaited break feeling burnt out.
