Words and photography by Mattea Mckinnon.
Long before surf forecasts, shark drones and Instagram clips, Saltwater People were reading the ocean.
Long before surfers checked swell charts or lifeguards patrolled beaches, Indigenous communities around Australia understood tides, currents, marine life and seasonal changes through generations of observation and experience. The ocean wasn’t just a playground or a resource. It was Country.
One of those people was Barney Currie.
During the summer of 1948-49, Currie stood atop the old surf shed at Greenmount Beach, keeping watch over the line-up at Greenmount and nearby Kirra. Armed with little more than a whistle, a red warning flag and decades of experience on the water, the fisherman and mullet spotter reportedly identified 271 sharks in just two weeks without missing a single one.

His gift wasn’t technology. It was an ability to read the ocean.
More than 75 years later, that same relationship with the sea continues through families like the Corowas.
Currie’s descendants, Adam and Nate Corowa, have carried that connection into the modern surf era. Adam, who grew up in Fingal on the Tweed Coast, spent more than two decades as a merchant seaman, building a career from a lifetime on the water.
“We’re just watermen. We’re just from the sea,” he said.


His son Nate is following a similar path. At just 16-years-old, he’s already spending much of his life in the ocean, surfing whenever he gets the chance.
The same thread runs through the Silvester family.
Brook Silvester, founder of First Nations Lifeguards, First Nations Boardriders Club and owner of Bombora Surf School in Tugun, has spent more than four decades immersed in surf culture.
A surfer, ocean cinematographer and water safety specialist, Brook’s career has stretched from filming the ASP World Tour and working on the Bra Boys documentary to spending over a decade as a water cameraman on Bondi Rescue.

But for Brook, surfing has also been a pathway back to culture.
“After 11 years as the water cameraman on Bondi Rescue, and with Hoppo always telling me I had the best eyes on the beach for spotting danger, I realised the importance of water safety and my Indigenous eyes. That’s when I started First Nations Lifeguards, to bring our people back to our waterways through ocean awareness.”
That mission continues both in the water and through competition. Fresh from the Australian Indigenous Surfing Titles at Bells Beach, Brook recently claimed the Over 50s Shortboard title for the second time.

His son Zane represents the next generation. A talented surfer and Gold Coast City Council lifeguard, he’s using surfing as a way to deepen his understanding of culture and community.
“I’m learning more about my culture and my totem. The learning is never-ending. It’s pretty cool.”
For Brook, the goal of First Nations Lifeguards is straightforward.
“My mission is to return our mobs to our coastlines with RTO certifications approved, job placements and careers.”

It’s a vision that reaches far beyond surf contests, boardrider clubs and lifeguard towers.
The point breaks, beaches and coastlines we surf today were known, understood and cared for long before fibreglass boards, wetsuits and contest jerseys arrived.
Long before surf culture learned to read the ocean, Saltwater People already were.
And they still are.




