Photo Jeff Dawson
It’s a serene sight when viewed from a distance – a line of surfers lazily sprinkled across a stretch of turquoise ocean.
Occasionally one takes off, weaving their way down the line for a few moments before paddling back to the gently bobbing group.
But what’s going on beneath the surface?
I’m not talking about sharks or rips (we’ve heard more than enough about those lately). What’s happening in the hearts and minds of those neoprene-clad humans paddling around in the salty swell?
The surfing stereotype tells us they’re feeling relaxed and chilled out, or maybe stoked about the glassy barrels rolling in.
But new research into the mental health impacts of surfing suggests a lot more is going on.
Written by Dr Michael Tran, Professor Robert Brander and Dr Amy Peden from the UNSW Beach Safety Research Group, the ‘Qualitative Content Analysis of the Links Between Surfing and Mental Health’ paints a complex picture of the surfing experience.
Based on survey responses from nearly 800 NSW surfers, the findings reveal a rich spectrum of both positive and negative mental health experiences.
‘Surfing emerges as a site of both healing and harm, where moments of transcendence, connection, and emotional regulation coexist with experiences of exclusion, aggression, and environmental anxiety,’ said the authors of the study, which will be published in the March edition of the Journal of Outdoor Recreation and Tourism.
Lifestyle and mental health
That surfing can play a profoundly positive role in the lives of participants was clearly demonstrated by the study’s findings.
When asked what surfing meant to them, 67 per cent of respondents said it was about emotional regulation and mental health, while 60.5 per cent said the activity was central to their identity and a key part of their lifestyle.
‘Surfing is a place for me to escape, all my stress and worries are left behind, and all my thoughts are focused on the waves,’ one young female survey participant said.
Others described the benefits of surfing in helping them to recover from, and manage, mental health disorders.
‘I suffer from PTSD, if it weren’t for surfing I would be a mess,’ a male participant in the 36–45 age category said.
‘Whilst I have to live inland for work and family, I religiously surf weekly to refresh my mind and body. The water washing over me cleanses my soul and lets me live a normal life.’
However, coinciding with these healing and restorative experiences were reports of aggression, exclusion, and environmental stressors.
Surf culture
When asked how surfing negatively impacted their mental health, more than 90 per cent of respondents said they had experienced social exclusion and aggression.
This included threats of, and the actual experience of, violence, and regular instances of misogyny and sexism.
There were also undercurrents of aggressive localism and the divide between highly-skilled, often older, surfers and those starting out.
‘I was dropped in on by a man and he actually spear tackled me off my board,’ one young, female survey respondent said.
‘I had severe bruising on the side of my body that was hit. It was really upsetting and traumatising.’
A male surfer in the 36-45 age category said being threatened with violence by older surfers happened ‘very often’ at his local break.
‘I could imagine that would turn a lot of people away from taking up surfing,’ the male surfer said.
In addition to these experiences were the stressors of environmental degradation such as pollution, injuries, and direct involvement in rescues and searches.
And yet not only do people continue to surf, but participation is increasing.
Approximately 196,000 Australians aged 15 and over took up surfing between 2019 and mid-2022 according to the Australian Sports Commission.
This surge in popularity was particularly notable among women, who made up the majority of the new participants.
Pros and cons
The authors explained this apparent contradiction by reference to ‘motivational balancing’, whereby the benefits of surfing were weighed against its challenges, often resulting in continued participation despite adversity.
The authors said that, in addition to shedding light on how surfing shaped mental health, the study’s findings had practical implications for policymakers, surf program designers, and surf culture advocates.
This included the need for more inclusive and supportive surf environments, particularly for women, beginners, and those from marginalised groups.
‘Surf schools, clubs, and community organisations could incorporate education on surf etiquette, anti-discrimination, and mental health awareness into their programming,’ the report stated.
The authors also stated that the emotional burden experienced by surfers involved in rescues highlighted the importance of integrating mental health support and debriefing protocols into existing training programs.
Lastly, the study found that policymakers and coastal planners needed to consider the psychological impacts of overcrowding, pollution, and environmental degradation when promoting surfing as a public health intervention.
‘By acknowledging both the benefits and challenges of surfing, stakeholders can better support sustainable participation and mental wellbeing in blue space recreation,’ the authors said.
For four decades The Echo has printed the stories some people loved, some people hated, and some pretended not to read. If you want us to keep telling the truth, the real truth, not the sugar-coated version. We’ll need your support to keep the presses rolling. 
