FRANK’S FABLE
Sometimes, only sometimes, there are things which are more important than surfing. We’re still here in old Melbourne town. Enduring one of the world’s longest lockdowns. Abandoned and ostracised by closed borders, rings of steel, an imperceptible microbe that has torn through our community beyond our control. Most of us unable or unwilling to risk a trip to the coast. Unable to do so without becoming a law-breaker. Unwilling to expose the coastal communities we hold in our hearts to the risk of transmission. It’s been months and months of vacillation between boredom, anxiety and despair, punctuated only briefly by rare moments of lightness. And we’ve endured it all because sometimes, on very rare occasions, some things are more important than surfing.
The isolation
