Waves of calm

If the popular perception of surfers and surfing is of gnarly youths taking on the elements, there's another side to the pursuit. 

- GLENN WOOD

My mother gave birth to an intellectually challenged son. My brother Darryl was born with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, which cut off oxygen to his brain and caused massive damage. This was in the 1950s so no one really noticed. At least, not until he was five years old. Mum had been struggling as Darryl hadn’t developed mentally at all. She was rightly concerned and took him to her local GP.

The guy clearly had no bedside manner or empathy of any kind because he examined Darryl, then turned to my mother and said, “This kid will never be any use to you.” Good one, Doc. Way to break the news gently.

My brother spent the next 12 years in Tokanui Psychiatric Hospital near Te Awamutu. My parents visited him each month and he never showed any sign of recognising them and nor did he manage to interact in any way.

The experience of having an intellectually disabled child had a profound effect on my parents and they became active participants in IHC – the Intellectually Handicapped Children’s Society, as it was then known. As a family we had high-functioning intellectually disabled people living with us so I became used to Down syndrome and autistic people. So, when a friend asked if I’d volunteer at a Surfers Healing event, I jumped at the chance.

I was already aware of Surfers Healing, having read the book Scratching the Horizon – A Surfing Life by Izzy Paskowitz and Daniel Paisner. American Izzy was a pro surfer and the father of an autistic child. He founded the charity in 1996 after an incident with his son.