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There is a tendency to dismiss surfing as little more than a lifestyle statement, the frivolous pursuit of a sect no less frothy than the waves through which they glide. From the cult film Point Break to the aged saxaphoned Guinness adverts, surfing folk have been depicted as enviably tanned curiosities with a hippy-ish loyalty to the camper van and a heavy reliance on the phrase, `dude.'

It is inevitable that an activity with such a resoundingly strong image should foster suspicions as being little more than a poseur's playground. It is, after all, never hard to distinguish between a top surfer and a top darts player.