'Give us a break!' say surfing farmers

Every Thursday afternoon, Banks Peninsula farmers head to the beach in Hickory Bay and ride waves to forget about work.

Farmer and surfing coach, Kristin Savage, runs the Surfing for Farmers initiative, which doubles up as an apres surf catch-up and BBQ in the farmyard.

The surf therapy initiative, which has 28 chapters around the motu, is helping improve mental health and wellbeing in rural communities.

Hickory Bay Farm is located at the end of a steep and winding seven-kilometre gravel road. Kristin and his wife Rachel have been living there for 13 years.

They were first-time farmers when they took over the 500-hectare property, that was previously owned by British banking heir, David de Rothschild.

"We came from Wellington. I was a commerce teacher at Wellington Boys and Rachel was a flight retrieval ICU nurse," Kristin said.

He admits it was a steep learning curve and he's grateful to Rachel's parents, Ashburton farmers Keith and Rosemary Townshend, for their guidance and support.

"They're amazing farmers and I've learnt so much from them and we wouldn't be here without their help, so you know, it was kind of like sink or swim."

The couple, who have three young children, graze dairy cattle and run a herd of Speckle Park, a Canadian breed of beef cattle.

For Kristin, who's been surfing mad since he was 12, the farm's jewel in the crown is the bay and its waves, as well as the beach and the dramatic cliffs on either side.

"The prevailing wind is offshore, so blowing back out to sea grooming the waves, the cliffs make these waves kind of clean and there's plenty of swell. This combination produces the nice peaky, bowly waves that surfers really like.

He started a surf club for local schoolchildren several years ago after turning the old woolshed into the Hickory Bay Surfing Institute. The institute is a Charitable Trust.

"The vision statement is creating community wellbeing through the sport of surfing. So the surfing is the catalyst, but we will get around the fire and cook dinner together on the grill and tell stories."

With the surfing school infrastructure set up, it seemed like a natural fit to get involved with Surfing for Farmers.

"I had mates from Wellington that surf, texting me and saying check out this Surfing for Farmers thing. So I rang up the national coordinator and said, hey, we'd be happy to open a chapter here."

That was three years ago and it's still going strong.

Being Thursday and with farmers arriving shortly, Kristin hooks a trailer loaded with surfboards onto his side-by-side and drops it off near the beach.

As soon as the farmers arrive, they slip out of their work clothes and into their wetsuits. A physical and psychological transformation occurs.

There's a sense of excited urgency to get into the sea.

They walk barefoot through a couple of paddocks to where surfboards, provided by the initiative, are lined up. Young heifers watch as the farmers choose their boards.

Hugh Eaton is a farmer from Pigeon Bay and, at nearly 70, is the oldest surfer today.

"I'm here for two reasons. One is as a trustee of the local Rural Support Trust, that's about five percent,  but the other 95 percent is because I really like coming here to surf," he says.

The Rural Support Trust is a community partner of the surfing initiative. Hugh is also a volunteer for the Trust and is on phone duty for 24 hours every fourth week.

"It's quite a challenge because I never know if it's going to be somebody wanting a chat or is distressed or potentially thinking of suicide," he says.

Through this work he sees why farmers need a break from the daily grind of farming.

"You can come out for two or three hours, or an evening and do something completely different that's not related to the farm. Think about something different and do something physical, get smashed by the waves!"

Granville Walsh is a local surf instructor. He's been providing additional coaching expertise on Thursday afternoons.

"They can get a lesson when they come down and obviously we're here for safety too, so if anybody got caught out in a rip or drifted out to sea, we're here to help out and make sure none of that happens."

After an hour riding the waves  Lyndon Palmer, a farmer from Goughs Bay, calls it a day. He has his board under his arm and a sparkle in his eye.

"I look at the sea every day where I work and don't appreciate it, but since the Surfing for Farmers started, I've been here right from the start, I've been enjoying it. It makes you feel alive."

He says there's a cross-section of rural Peninsula people, from young to old, who turn up each week.

"Everyone loves it. You know, you sit around afterwards and have a steak and a couple of beers and a yak. No one talks about farming," he says.

Does Lyndon check the surf and weather forecast before going down to Hickory Bay?

"No. If there's nothing we still go out and have a good time and if it's houses coming at you, everyone just hangs on and gets into it!"

He says his newfound passion for surfing and being in the sea is infectious.

"We're doing it as a family now. So the four of us are out here having a go, you know, so we wouldn't have done that if it wasn't for Surfing for Farmers."