The Station
IF a consistent swell is coming in, don’t be surprised if you find The Station Boardstore closed. Proprietor JJ knows his priorities.
Nothing like one of those surf shops of the Billabong/Rip Curl/Mambo corporate ilk, The Station Boardstore has more in common with the surf shops of the 1970s, the time when surfing was young and rebellious. Nothing glitzy, nothing showy and in need of a good coat of paint, the only word I can come up to describe The Station is this: authentic.
“Look around. Take some photos”, JJ said as I came through the door of his store. I had only a few minutes ago run into him by the surf lifesaving club on the Crescent Head foreshore. I saw this old, faded red Mitsubishi 4WD pull up and recognised the shaggy-haired character inside. He remembered the photo I published of him with a paulownia and cork boogie board, a photo I took earlier in the year. “I’m looking for my dog”, he said by way of explanation for being here, indicating a relaxed-looking kelpie laying comfortably chilled-out in the shade.
Like his dog, JJ is a relaxed character. Tall, easy-going and slow-speaking, I would put him in his forties, not that I am any good at guessing age. If character can be reflected in inanimate things, JJ’s manner is reflected in his store… unpretentious, fit for purpose, welcoming and friendly.
The Station occupies an old fibro house on Crescent’s main street. Walking in, I found what were once bedrooms were now occupied by racks of surfboards, some new, some preowned. A shortboard lay across a double bed, its triple slots awaiting the installation of fins. Above the door to the kitchen a screen showed a surfing video. A rack of locally-made, funky jewelry projected from a wall. From another hung a row of broad-brimmed felt hats that would have been as much in-place in the 1960s-1970s as they were today. Shortboards and malibus lined the walls and, hanging as a piece of functional art above them all, a paulownia and cork mini-malibou.
The Station attracts serious surfers. I was there when a man came in to look at a board JJ must have arranged to show him. The two discussed its merits as the man ran his hand across its deck, turned it on edge to eye the rocker and checked-out the tail. JJ is the man to see when you get serious about your surfing.
As I was leaving I was making a photo of the store, JJ slouching in the door, when a young man and woman wearing wetsuits crossed the road and shouted greetings. “Neighbours”, he said. It was clear that JJ is respected in the local surfing scene.
“He’s a character,” the man said as I walked with him and his female partner towards the beach.
Yes, he is. JJ is one of those fortunate people who turn their main interest in life into their livelihood. The Station will never be one of those big, shiny, corporate surf shops and for that we are fortunate indeed. Why? Because the store is like its proprietor in having that most important of qualities, the one which leads to repeat business and trust: authenticity.
The Station Boardstore on facebook
STORIES OF THE COAST
Just wood and cork
https://medium.com/by-road-track/just-wood-and-cork-23fd89700c52
Tributes, memorials or thong-exchange, these installations are about plastic waste
https://medium.com/by-road-track/tributes-memorials-or-thong-exchange-these-installations-are-about-plastic-waste-d75e9545e25
Encounters…
Most of all, it’s the people we remember
https://medium.com/by-road-track/most-of-all-its-the-people-we-remember-ea835f590df4
Troubled paradise: Byron Bay faces change
https://medium.com/by-road-track/troubled-paradise-byron-bay-faces-change-22de4f2a4e3a
Book review…
The forgotten islands, a Tasmanian journey
https://medium.com/by-road-track/r-t-the-forgotten-islands-a-tasmanian-journey-934624418fc8
