Chasing the Break Read online

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Attending a conference called Getting Reluctant Readers Reading, Michael Panckridge skipped lunch to sit in the old commentary box at Victoria Park, where he was inspired to write stories for kids who were as keen on sports as he had been when growing up. Fifteen years on, Michael is the author of over 35 books, selling more than 250,000 copies. As well as sports books such as the Legends series, he also writes action-packed thrillers and suspenseful mysteries. When he’s not teaching or writing, Michael enjoys watching sport, reading, and running.

  Also by Michael Panckridge

  Against the Spin

  The Toby Jones series

  The League of Legends series

  The Clued Up series

  The Cursed

  The Vanishings

  The Immortal

  The Book of Gabrielle

  Be Bully Free

  Thanks to Paul Collins and the talented team at Ford Street Publishing for believing in the Legends and bringing it alive for a new generation of readers. Thanks also to Marita Seaton for her artistic talents in designing the wonderful covers and illustrations for the series.

  Published by Ford Street Publishing, an imprint of

  Hybrid Publishers, PO Box 52, Ormond VIC 3204

  Melbourne Victoria Australia

  © Michael Panckridge 2016

  2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1

  This publication is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced by any process without prior written permission from the publisher. Requests and enquiries concerning reproduction should be addressed to

  Ford Street Publishing Pty Ltd

  162 Hoddle Street, Abbotsford, Vic 3067.

  Ford Street website: www.fordstreetpublishing.com

  First published in 2003 by BDB. This edition has been revised.

  National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry

  Creator: Panckridge, Michael, 1962 - author.

  Title: Chasing the Break / Michael Panckridge.

  eISBN: 9781925804089

  Target Audience: For primary school age.

  Subjects: Surfing--Juvenile fiction.

  Dewey Number: A823.4

  Cover design and interior illustrations: Marita Seaton ©

  Interior design: Grant Gittus Graphics

  In-house editor: Tim Harris

  Printed in Australia by McPherson’s Printing Group

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  New School

  Chapter 2

  To Camp

  Chapter 3

  First Surf

  Chapter 4

  The Real Travis Fisk

  Chapter 5

  The Notice

  Chapter 6

  Beach Flags

  Chapter 7

  Hit and Miss

  Chapter 8

  In the Zone

  Chapter 9

  Bryce’s Plan

  Chapter 10

  Practice Makes Perfect

  Chapter 11

  Legend of Surf

  Chapter 12

  Luci’s First Test

  Chapter 13

  Smart Riding

  Chapter 14

  Find a Flag

  Chapter 15

  Paisley and Mazis

  Chapter 16

  Iron Will

  Chapter 17

  Dive!

  Chapter 18

  Final Glory

  Legend of the Surf – Race Course Map

  Legend of the Surf – Results

  Legend of Sport – Boys’ Points Table

  Legend of Sport – Girls’ Points Table

  Surfing Quiz

  Surfing Quiz Answers

  Event Dates

  Surfing

  February

  Cricket

  March

  Tennis

  April

  Football

  June

  Soccer

  July

  Basketball

  August

  Athletics

  October

  Swimming

  November

  Scoring

  1st

  5 points

  2nd

  4 points

  3rd

  3 points

  4th

  2 points

  5th

  1 point

  Structure

  Each sport has a teacher in charge. Generally, there will be three types of testing to determine the Legend for each sport.

  The percentage for each session is approximate only. The teacher in charge will decide the final balance of scoring.

  A skills-based session

  30%

  A knowledge session

  20%

  A game session

  50%

  Practice

  All participants in a Legend event will have the opportunity to practise on Wednesday afternoons from 1:00 pm till 5:00 pm. During this time, Legend participants will be able to use the library. Sports staff and sports venues will also be available on request. It is the responsibility of the student to book venues, equipment and other materials. Normal sports training will continue for all students on the appropriate afternoons.

  The Legends Noticeboard

  The noticeboard outside the gym should be constantly checked for updates. It is the student’s responsibility to do this.

  Assemblies are pretty much the same everywhere, even first day of the year ones.

  I should know. This was my third new school in five years. Big pack of kids. Teachers standing round the edges. A few mums holding babies.

  We were sitting in a hall. Preppies were way down at the front looking nervous and excited, and the big kids – the kids in their final year – up the back here, with me. None of the kids around me looked nervous . . . was I the only new kid? I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the speaker out the front. Mrs Waite, the principal, was talking about a sporting competition for the two senior years. Again, my eyes wandered. There was a kid two rows down from me who was making me feel even more nervous. He was staring at me. He looked weird, with his head the only one pointing in the opposite direction to everyone else’s. I couldn’t believe a teacher hadn’t come up and told him to face the front or something. Avoiding his eyes, I turned my attention back to Mrs Waite. Why was this kid so hooked on giving me the creeps? I’d find out soon enough.

  Later in class our teacher, Mr Spears (who was decked out in sporty clothes and looking fit and healthy), was telling us about the camp coming up in a few days. It was for four days, with plenty of surfing and beach activities. It sounded cool.

  ‘Mr Spears, will we be having the ironman competition again?’ someone asked.

  ‘Certainly, Richard,’ he replied. ‘But it, and the surfing, may not be a part of the overall Sandhurst Sports Legend Competition this year.’

  There were a few disappointed murmurs from the kids around me.

  ‘But look, that could change. I know there are a few teachers who are keen for the Legend of Surf to be a part of the whole Legend of Sport competition. We’ll find out very shortly, I’m sure.’

  The Legends competition again. Maybe it was time to find out more about it.

  ‘What’s your name?’

  It was lunchtime and I was hanging around near the basketball courts.

  ‘Mitchell.’

  It was the big kid who had been staring at me in assembly.

  ‘Mitchell who?’ He scowled, a salad roll in one hand, a basketball in the other.

  ‘Mitchell Grady.’

  I waited for a smart remark. He looked like that sort of kid. He didn’t reply. The other kids were listening but also saying nothing
. Suddenly he bounce-passed the ball to me.

  I wasn’t ready and it smacked me in the stomach. I recovered and bounced it back, hard. He caught it easily and smiled.

  ‘Play him “21”, Travis,’ said a kid standing next to him.

  ‘I’m Travis Fisk. Are you up for it, Mitchell Grady? Do you know the rules? Three points from the line, two points next shot if it doesn’t bounce from where you catch it, one point if it bounces once. No second shots if it bounces more than once. It’s the first to 21. You want to go first?’

  He was talking so fast, I couldn’t follow what he was saying.

  ‘Wait, I’ll explain it,’ a boy said, sidling up next to me. ‘I’m Jack – Jack Crossly. Okay, you stand–’

  ‘Hey, shove off, Crossly. This is my game,’ barked Travis. He wolfed down the rest of his roll.

  ‘Actually, I’m happy for Jack to play,’ I admitted. Pretty weak, I knew, but I wasn’t that keen on a shoot-out with this thug. Life would be better with me just being in the background for a while. But things never turn out the way you plan.

  ‘You’re playing me, mate. Crossly, get out of our space!’ he threatened. ‘Okay, Mitchell Grady. You first.’

  I couldn’t believe this was happening. What had I done to deserve his attention? A crowd was gathering, to see what was going on. Richard, the boy who had asked Mr Spears about surfing being a part of the whole Legends Competition, was obviously a friend of this Travis guy. He threw the ball to me. Everyone went quiet.

  I stepped up to the line and took a shot. I should have warmed up. The ball smacked into the ring and bounced away at a right angle. I couldn’t get to it before it bounced twice.

  ‘Hey, give the new kid some lunch,’ said Travis. ‘He’s a bit weak.’

  Travis walked up to the free-throw line and waited for the ball. There was no shortage of kids willing to give the ball to him. His shot hit the ring, nudged onto the backboard and fell to the left. Racing in he caught the ball right under the ring. He shot again. This time the ball went straight through.

  ‘Two – nil.’ More students were edging in, even a teacher in her bright green fluoro vest and holding a clipboard had paused to watch.

  Game on, I thought, taking the ball. This time I’d put in some routine. Bending my knees, I bounced the ball a few times, then lifted the ball up in front of my face. Not yet. I bounced the ball again, flexing through the knees. That felt better. Staring at the ring, I snapped the ball out and up. Nice arc, nice height. No backboard. Just swish, straight through the net. I’d got my eye in. There was a murmur of approval.

  I hit four three-pointers in a row, then a two, then another two more three-point shots from the line. Travis was fuming. I don’t think he’d been taken down before. The score was twenty to thirteen, my way.

  ‘You gotta get “21” exactly,’ he snarled at me.

  Jack sidled up to me.

  ‘Maybe you should let him win. He doesn’t like being beaten.’

  ‘Maybe he’s got to start learning,’ I replied.

  I took the ball and threw it hard into the backboard so it bounced back towards me. I grabbed it before its second bounce, popping the ball in for a one-point play and the game.

  Travis walked up to me, anger written all over his face. Then suddenly he smiled.

  ‘Nice feeling winning, isn’t it?’ he sneered. ‘But don’t enjoy it too much, Mitchell Grady. It ain’t gonna happen again. And you’d better watch out if it does.’ He sauntered off, a straggle of kids hanging off him. Plenty of kids hung back though, and they were looking pretty pleased.

  I was sitting on the bus next to Jack Crossly, the only kid who’d made any real effort to talk to me during the first two days of school. We were on our way to Rosslare Point – to the camp. It was about 40 minutes away – half on normal roads, and the last part on a dirt track. The camp was only a few hundred metres from the ocean.

  ‘So tell me about this Sport Legends Competition, Jack,’ I said.

  ‘Well, it’s been going for years and years. What they do is give out points for the different sports. First up is usually the Legend of Surf. But that’s sort of separate. There’s one boy winner and one girl winner. Then there’s Legend of Cricket, Legend of Tennis, and it goes right through the year till the last one, Legend of Swimming.’

  ‘Why is surfing separate?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, with the other sports, there are three parts. There’s a quiz, a skills test and then a game. The teachers give you points in each of them. With surfing, it’s really just the surfing and the ironman and ironwoman events.’

  It sounded great. In fact, it sounded absolutely amazing.

  ‘So, you’re saying that you actually get to study sport. And practise your skills. So it’s like a school subject?’

  I couldn’t believe I’d landed in such an awesome school.

  ‘Yep, that’s it. At the end of the year, whoever gets the most points is the Sandhurst Legend of Sport.’

  We were getting closer to the sea. The salty smell reminded me of summer holidays, sandy feet and always being hungry.

  ‘So does everyone go in it?’ I asked Jack.

  ‘Nah, only if you want to. Girls can go in it, too, but they have netball when we have footy,’ said Jack.

  ‘Will you go in it?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah. Dad wants me to. Says it’s good for me. Plus, he reckons he’ll give me $100 if I come third or better.’

  I thought about this as the bus bumped along a dirt road towards our camp.

  ‘It all seems pretty serious,’ I said.

  ‘Well it is, especially for some kids – and their parents.’

  When we arrived at Rosslare Point, the camp leaders told us the rules of camp and sounded the loud siren which would be used if we had to assemble on the decking in an emergency. Then we went off to our dorms. They were rooms of five. I was in with Jack (phew), Liam, Jordie and a quiet kid called Bryce Flavel.

  Our first surfing session was scheduled for that afternoon. We had been divided into groups but everyone was surfing over the next three days. The ironman competition was on the last day, Friday.

  There was no beach access from the cabins, so we took a bus to the beach car park.

  I was watching Liam, whose nickname was Bubba. He was looking worried. He was trying to pull on his rash vest – you know, a skin-tight lycra T-shirt that we were wearing under our wetsuits to stop them giving us a rash. I could see why he was concerned. Getting him into a wetsuit would be a massive challenge.

  ‘You been surfing before, Bubba?’ I asked him.

  He looked at me and shook his head. ‘I’m no good in seawater,’ he said.

  ‘C’mon,’ I said. He looked up.

  ‘Okay, coming.’

  I reckon the first session went for about three hours but we must have spent only about half an hour in the water. Putting on the wetsuits was the first job. Some kids had brought their own. If you didn’t have a wetsuit, you automatically got a steamer (a wetsuit with long arms and legs). A couple of kids had brought their own springers (short arms and legs), but as I’d just grown out of mine, I went with the flow and used what I was given.

  We spent a lot of time on the sand going through the moves. I was dying to get out there. It was just a basic beach break but the waves looked pretty decent.

  Finally we picked up our boards: yellow foam boards with thrusters.

  ‘Hey, Mitchell, will you stick with me for a while?’

  It was Bubba, wanting me to stay in the shallows.

  ‘Yeah, for a bit, Bubba, but then I’m heading out. Okay?’

  He looked nervous.

  ‘Hey, Bubba,’ I explained, ‘you don’t have to worry about the standing-up stuff. Just lie on your board and paddle with your arms.’

  He gave this a try and seemed happy. I couldn’t see Jack anywhere. Bryce hadn’t yet made it to the water. He had found some sort of shell and was talking to one of the teachers about it.

  It was gre
at to be in the water.

  ‘Hey, Mitchell Grady, you gonna keep playing with the toddlers or are you gonna catch some real waves?’ It was Travis Fisk.

  ‘I’ll follow you out,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, if you can keep up.’

  We both threw ourselves on our boards and paddled out. He was strong and big and stayed a couple of board lengths ahead of me. I let him have his little victory. He kept going out past the break. I looked around to see if the instructors were watching, but they didn’t seem to be. We were out the back and waiting for a wave.

  There was a good set coming. We let a few roll through, and then, like twins, we were both paddling like crazy trying to stay with a big swell. I noticed Fisk get up to his feet. Suddenly he was veering towards me. I swung away to my right, but not before the front part of his board came across mine and tipped me over. He pulled back the other way and managed to keep control, while I splashed about in the water trying to get back on my board.

  ‘Watch yourself, or I’ll ram you, not your board,’ he said as he paddled back out through the break.

  ‘Control your board, Travis,’ I said.

  He just smirked and turned his board around so it was facing the shore.

  ‘Longest ride?’ I challenged him. He looked at me like I was a small dog.

  ‘Can you stand?’ he asked.

  ‘Travis Fisk, I can walk,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, right.’

  Another set was approaching. I started paddling early, wanting to set my own pace. I put Travis out of my mind and focused on the wave. I felt the force of it coming fast and picked up my speed. As I felt it come through, I jumped to my feet, pushing my right foot back for better balance. For a moment, I was up near the curl and I had plenty of speed. I looked over to where Travis should have been but I couldn’t see him. I got down to the bottom of the wave and turned to the left. Still no sign of him. Cutting back, I settled on the white water, letting it take me all the way in. It was an excellent ride to get in so early.