All photos by Toby Manson.

Two months ago a Swellnet reader threw down a challenge at me. “You should do a story on Irish surf culture!” said Donno in a spirited email. The reason given was that he'd just returned from Ireland and had been amazed at the reception he'd received. Amongst many warm greetings he'd made the acquaintance of Craig Butler, a local who kept Donno “in the loop with the best possible conditions so we could score.” Craig Butler also happens to be the Irish longboard champion and the WSL's first openly gay athlete.

The traveller's lot is to make comparisons with home and Donno wasn't exempt. “In strong contrast to the Australian surfing experience," said Donno, "the idea of an openly gay, national Australian champ directing a traveller to all the best spots - and some secret ones, mind you - is just ridiculous.”

As far as ideas go it was an appealing entreaty: comparing two surf cultures and asking why they differ as they do. Except I didn't take Donno's bait. Comparing cultures is a hazardous business; the risk lies in generalisations, in painting a population of individual people with a single broad brush.

So I filed the idea away, occasionally reflecting upon it when the worst of Australian surf culture arose and I felt like playing amateur sociologist. Then last week a friend sent me a batch of photos from a recent Irish trip with an accompanying email. “I felt so welcomed,” said Toby of his Irish experience. “It’s amazing that the locals, even the hot-shot semi-professional ones, have such a humble and sharing vibe. I was welcomed into their most precious waves.”

And much like Donno, Toby couldn't help but contrast his experience to back home. A warm welcome is “pretty rare in the Australian slab surfing community,” mused Toby. “Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of soul surfers who do it for pure enjoyment, but the locals in Australia will more likely threaten you as give you directions. It was a very refreshing experience.”

Toby's email tipped me over. I turned on the computer and began painting with a broad brush.

In 1995 Andrew Kidman and Jon Frank rolled up in Ireland for the filming of Litmus. Before arriving they knew no-one and their knowledge of the country was equally slim. Yet within a short space of time they had a place to stay, a group of newly-acquired friends, and they'd gone some way toward learning about the local culture. To wit, that the Irish are a largely welcoming bunch.

The two stayed in Ireland for three months, visited the pub or recorded music at night, and by day surfed some incredible waves. In fact, the Irish section of Litmus features Joel Fitzgerald surfing an incredible slabbing left which, to this viewer at least, forms the high water mark of the film. It was also the first time the wider surfing world saw the potential of the Irish coastline.

Twenty years later and there are few surfers around the world who aren't aware of Ireland's south-west gems, Aileens and Rileys, nor Mullaghmore Head, which handles arguably the largest waves in Europe and has been the site of a number of tow surfing contests.

Kidman shrinks when asked about the role he's played in Ireland's surfing development. “I'm not sure I feel great about it,” yet his diffidence isn't shared by Ireland's favourite surfing sons. In his web series, Growing, Fergal Smith gushed over Litmus. “Litmus is one of the first surf videos myself and my brother ever got. We just watched it on repeat...it was always our inspiration.” While the other surf Smith, Mickey, was recruited to film the Irish section of Kidman's latest film, Spirit Of Akasha.

Spirit Of Akasha was a homage to Morning Of The Earth. Kidman said he wanted to see if the essence of the original film still existed on raw, untrammelled coastlines. He found it to be the case in Ireland saying there's “something about the camaraderie and loneliness of cold water, and of Ireland” that invokes Morning Of The Earth. Yet the spirit isn't confined to the water.

“We were literally welcomed off the street and into people's houses,” recalls Kidman twenty years after the fact. “Jon and I only had a car yet we had people, strangers, say to us “You guys are staying here.”

“I just think it's a part of their make up. The Irish are very warm people and it doesn't make a difference whether it's the lineup or the pub, nobody is guarded about anything.”

"Irish people love to make people feel welcome,” says Ireland's most renowned surfer, Fergal Smith. “They'll pull out the whisky, make you the dinner, whatever they can offer.” And Fergal believes it's only natural that the warm embrace continues below the tide line. “In the water it's a similar style, we want people to enjoy Ireland and have a good time so we generally welcome strangers.”

Testament to Fergal's words is the experience of Toby Manson. The day after taking the photos you see in this story he was approached by a local while walking down the main street of Lahinch. Though Toby was a tourist, the man struck up a conversation, asked about the surf and if he'd shot any good photos. Taken aback, Toby rushed to make sense of the local's intentions.

Clearly the local fella was in the surf the previous day and had recognised Toby taking water shots. Toby played a straight bat and his faith was repaid in kind. The 'stranger' turned out to be Fergal, who went on to invite Toby and his girlfriend to his farm. After tea and a chinwag the two backpackers left with a basket full of carrots and beetroots. The surfer shares his waves, the farmer shares his wares - whatever they can offer.

Tom Lowe

Part of this generosity may be explained by the lack of Irish surfers. While not exactly in its infancy, Irish surfing just doesn't have the same weight of numbers as, say, Australia or the US where communities have been disfigured by a flood of people. While collecting quotes about Ireland I kept flashing on the stories of early surfing in Australia. “Every Friday night the boards were put on the roofs and we'd drive in convoy to the coast,” says Bob McTavish in his book Stoked. These days Australian surfers do their level best to avoid each other rather than seek each others company.

Andrew Kidman concurs, “The Irish surf community is smaller than the Australian community.” Each surf spot around the world has a carrying capacity and, unlike Australia, the Irish breaks appear far from reaching theirs. “Still” says Kidman musing on the endgame of rampant localism, “It makes you think that it just doesn't have to be this way.” 

If the friendly Irish attitude is due to a lack of crowds, then where does Craig Butler fit in? Butler, as already mentioned, is Ireland's national longboarding champion and he's also an openly gay surfer. Like Donno I find it hard to imagine a similar surfer occupying that position in Australia. Individually Australians like to think of themselves as open and tolerant yet it's not reflected in government policy.

The same-sex marriage debate is a good guide to community sentiment. Do you grant homosexuals the same rights as others or not? As of last year Australian legislators had made sixteen attempts at amending the Marriage Act to legalise same-sex marriage. Every attempt was unsuccessful. When Australia's Capital Territory briefly legalised same-sex marriage the Federal Government swiftly challenged it in the High Court and won. Meanwhile, in November last year Ireland held a referendum on same-sex marriage and the Irish people voted for equality.

Does this desire for social justice inform the Irish welcome, or is it merely a case of an author's overreach? Say what you will but my feeling is that acceptance can't be demarcated; a tolerant society welcomes all people from the gay surfer to the fresh-faced traveller.

The other surfer occupying a position of status in Irish surfing is Fergal himself. In February, Fergal ran for the Green Party in the Irish General Election. Though he wasn't succesful Fergal caught the interest of surfers worldwide, many of whom saw a bit of themselves in the upstanding and outspoken surfer. Yet despite the interest, Fergal is almost alone in his convictions: he shuns jet travel, forgoes plastic hard goods where possible, and lives the examined life.

Years ago Bob Cooper said, "Society once listened to surfers. They thought we had something to say." In Australia, surfers bucked the system: Ian Cohen protested the nuclear warship USS Oldendorf by hitching a ride on its bow while laying on his surfboard, Nat Young donated his Surfabout prizemoney to the Labor Party, and Tom Carroll made international headlines when he boycotted South Africa. Yet no Australian surfer has since made that kind of statement. As Australian surf culture has grown it's been absorbed into the mainstream, acquiring the same values and beliefs in the process. 

In a 2013 interview with Andrew Crockett, Bob Cooper said "Surfing is not attracting interesting characters anymore, it's too plain." With two leading surfers pushing progressive politics, Cooper's charge doesn't apply to Ireland.

A few years ago I travelled to what was then a lesser known part of Indonesia. Although quiet, a few surfers, mostly Aussies, had made return visits and struck up a rapport with the young locals. What I observed was surprising. Along with teaching them basic surf skills the Australians were also instilling in the kids hostility toward outsiders. When I asked one of the Australians about it he said he was preparing them for the onslaught of surfers. “They'll come and when they do these guys will have to fight for their waves.” He figured it his duty to harden them up, to treat all visitors with suspicion and resentment.

I've been told of similar things occurring at waves in the south of Chile, the instigators in that case being Americans. In both cases – Indonesia and Chile – the instigators thought they were doing the locals a service by preparing them for the avalanche of surfers that are sure to come.

Perhaps they are right, however a part of me also thinks they're meddling in the organic development of a culture. Tainting it with their news from the future, and putting at risk the wonderful stage when a young culture is assembling its component parts, creating its own values, and coalescing into a unique identity, maybe even a friendly and respectful one.

So what will happen when the crowds come to Ireland? Will the Irish surfers have to forgo their outgoing nature and become more resolute in the face of increasing numbers? For this I allowed Fergal the last word: “I don't really think so. Ireland is well known for its waves, but the waves are rarely good so it's not that easy to score. The harsh weather and the effort it takes to get to some waves keeps things level."

"The mellow traveller is always welcomed into the community, they're the ones that end up getting the free bed, the lift, and just the feeling of being very welcome. I look forward to those people coming and sharing waves together because that's what life's all about really."