I was at Moruya Beach (South Head) nice and early, pulling into the surf club’s carpark at 7.30am. It was my first morning back at work, and my first time covering the marathon, so I thought I’d try and look somewhat professional.

As soon as I was told to get ready to go out to the referees’ boat, I knew I’d made a mistake. You see, I’d worn jeans to the beach, jeans that were about to get soaked through.

By the time the inflatable rescue boat (IRB) had shipped me out to the main boat, my jeans were saturated, and my shirt wasn’t doing much better. To be fair though, the experience of the day soon made me forget about that particular discomfort.

The day started with a moving tribute to Moruya Surf Club Life Member Lesley Pheeney. Multiple crews involved in the race congregated in a circle about 75 metres off shore, and raised their oars while the ashes of Mrs Pheeney were scattered in the ocean.

Racing began 15 minutes after the conclusion of the ceremony, with the surf skis getting away at 9am.

The start of racing saw a flurry of activity on the boat I was situated on. The official scorers started paying very close attention to their clocks and flags, making sure to give each subsequent division a five minute break.

The Master’s Women’s division hit the water next, closely followed by the Open Women. Their male counterparts followed not long after.

The first thing that struck me was how hard the crews were working. A strong headwind had whipped up, the the water conditions were choppy to say the least. It was the kind of morning I felt lucky not to suffer from motion sickness.

The tough conditions meant a few more changes than normal from the crews, with rowers subbing out every ten minutes or so. And by subbing out, I mean falling into the water and waiting for their support crew to pick them up.

The start of the race was dominated by crews that took a more measured approach to their rowing. Crews with lower stroke rates (24 or 25 strokes per minute) were starting to outpace crews that were trying to power their way through the surf (29 or 30 strokes per minute).

As I looked around, I started to recognise just how big the event was. For every surf boat in the water, it seemed there were two other boats providing support in some form.

It became a procession of boats making their way down the coast, probably more than 75 in total if I had to hazard a guess.

Whilst on the boat, I was advised that the record for this leg was one hour and eight minutes. I was told this after that time had passed, and we hadn’t even passed Mullimburra Point yet.

I eventually sat back and just enjoyed the experience of being on the water, appreciating the fact that I wasn’t busting my gut with an oar in hand.

The referees’ boat sped away to the finish while the first surf boats were rounding Bingie Bingie Point. Our boat arrived at Coila Beach not long after the quickest surf skis were crossing the end line.

Bulli’s Open Men’s crew were the stars of the day, being the first surf boat over the line despite being part of the last group to leave Moruya.

They were followed by the 24 other surf boats on the water, with every last crew collapsing in an exhausted heap as soon as they crossed the line.

I was left in awe of the efforts these rowers had put in over the course of the 18km, and this was the shortest leg.

I’ll be back out at Coila Beach tomorrow to do it all again. And this time, I’ll wear my shorts.