The following story was written by Mark Robinson. It's a tale about two young boys, who despite their perceived disabilities, cherish each wave caught and each bowl shredded.

"When I used to look at music I would think of music for a funeral, now when I look at music I think of music for our surf and skate edits."

I'm midway through my much anticipated first meeting with Kylie Thulborn and her son, Harvey McCorkell. The three of us are chewing the fat out in the back room of their Warrnambool house on an icy Victorian evening. There are posters of big Indo barrels on the walls and surf boards, wax and files are strewn around the room of the warm inviting home. Harvey, as 11-year-old boys do, is happily playing around on his laptop while muttering away to himself. Unlike most boys his age, Harvey is not oblivious to what is being discussed behind him. He is a strikingly intelligent little grom. In 2001, Harvey entered the loving world of his family 16 weeks premature and weighing just 700 grams. His eyes were fused shut, his skin translucent and the beating of his heart was clearly visible. A ventilator pushed air into his lungs, and central, arterial and intravenous lines pumped life sustaining drugs and nutrients into his system. The doctors placed the tag 'not compatible with life' on this child battling with every breath to remain in the world.

Harvey is a chairskater and surfer and has been since three years of age. He rips up bowls on his wheelchair and surfs Warrnambool's many breaks with his family. Prior to our meeting, Harvey had been skyping with his mentor, Californian professional chairskater and surfer, Christiaan 'Otter' Bailey. Christiaan had encouraged him to remove his anti-tip bar so he could tackle more tricks as a chairskater. It's through Christiaan that Harvey's view on the world has changed. Kylie opens up her Facebook page and trawls through to the first novel, as she laughingly describes it, she sent Christiaan. She has an infectious, bubbly energy and spirit that is impossible not to get drawn into. Harvey had seen the big wave charger and amazingly talented chairskater's antics on YouTube and was immediately fascinated but more importantly inspired by what he saw. Unknown to Kylie at the time, Christiaan, along with being a professional sportsman, is also the co-founder and CEO of the Ocean Healing Group, a non-profit foundation, dedicated to providing once in a lifetime, adaptive sports adventure to wheelchair bound youngsters and their parents.

As Kylie does her best to describe those first three heart-wrenching years of Harvey's life, tears begin to well up in her eyes. With a lump the size of a football in my throat, I summon all the power I possess to stop myself transforming into a blubbering uncontrollable mess. I wouldn't have been the first person overcome with emotion; Harvey's stirring journey has reduced all manner of humans including hard-boiled fishermen and surfers to puddles of red-eyed tears. Harvey's premature birth had left him with a long list of medical problems. It became clear that he physically wasn't going to develop the capacity to walk independently and at three years of age he received his first wheelchair. Engrossed in Kylie's recount of her son's early fight for life and the many social obstacles he overcame, I don't notice Harvey quietly disappear from the room. About 10 minutes later a commotion erupts from the hallway and is quickly followed by a succession of rapid fire 'fuck', 'hell' and 'dick' curses. Following Christiaan's advice, Harvey had earlier asked his dad, Tony, to remove his anti-tip bar and had come a'gutser in the hall as he tried to master the change to his wheelchair.

On Boxing Day, 2011, Christiaan gave Harvey and his close friend and fellow chairskater, Paddy Giblin, the Christmas gift of their young lives. The pair were invited to attend the Life Rolls On Foundation 'They Will Skate Again' event to be held at Venice Beach, California. It is the premier event in the sport of chairskating and the boys will get the chance to skate with Christiaan and their other hero, Aaron 'Wheelz' Fotheringham. The duo and their entourage will then board the plane and head south to Costa Rica for a seven day surf camp at the Shaka Beach Retreat. The Just Add Water Surfing Program (JAWS) is run by the Ocean Healing Group (OHG) and is the only adaptive adventure program in the world designed for children in wheelchairs.

Kylie uploads the introductory clip to OHG and we watch six minutes of goose bump generating vision on the surf camp. Harvey excitedly informs me that they will not have to wear wetsuits and look like "big fat penguins" while they are there – the cold cramp inducing Victorian waters limit Harvey and Paddy's time in the ocean.

It took Kylie and Karen, Paddy's mum, all of five minutes to accept Christiaan's offer and so planning for the trip was immediately in motion. While the surf camp is free for all children and parents, the costs associated with getting to California and Costa Rica are worn by the two families taking part. Throughout our yak, Kylie describes the difficulties that have faced Harvey and her family – it's not a bitch or a 'woe is me' rant – I ask her what life has been like. From access issues to community close-mindedness, Kylie admits she had begun to lose hope in people. This journey has reinvigorated her faith in humanity. It was estimated that $15,000 would need to be raised for this trip to become a reality. A Facebook page was established and 'Sharing the Stoke' became the moniker of the trip. People from all walks of life donated their time, money or goods and the required loot was raised in just three remarkable months.

An entire story could be written about the generosity of the people, moved to the point of weeping, by these two young trailblazers. Kylie fights back the little stinging salt diamonds as she tells me about all who have helped them. There was an old fisherman who donated a crayfish, a resort in Queensland where Harvey and the family holidayed two years ago that donated $4000, online donations from all over the world, raffle ticket sales, government grants and a school fund raiser were among many other acts of kindness. Victoria's surf, skate, bike and music communities then took up the cause. A surf competition and big night of music featuring talented local acts was organised in Warrnambool and raised $4000, and a surf board shaped, glassed and touched with art work was donated as a prize. A skate jam at Riverside Skate Park in Melbourne raised $850 and a 'Ride Roll and Rock' competition at the Warrnambool Skate Park also provided valuable dollars. Kylie explains that for her and Karen it wasn't just about the trip overseas, the OHG mantra, carving the "Dis" out of disability, was an important message they wanted to get through.

"It was about sharing the stoke," Kylie says. It was about people sharing that love and that welling up of joy that you get when you're on a wave or you get when you're in a bowl. It wasn't and it never has been from the beginning all about raising that $15,000."

Paddy, like Harvey, is an 8-year-old boy from Warrnambool who has a passion for adventure and a spirit unlike most children his age. He was born with spina bifida but has never let this condition hinder his approach to life. Kylie vividly remembers the day she took Paddy out for his first surf and the picture of complete elation plastered over his face. "This is the best day of my life," he told her.

Both Kylie and Karen are two incredible women. Their attitudes to raising two young boys with physical disabilities by giving them all the opportunities and love imaginable, while not mollycoddling them, have empowered their sons in a way many with full use of their limbs are not. The strength of these two ladies is beyond belief. Both have a strong vision; while over in Costa Rica they plan to discuss with Christiaan and fellow OHG founder, Frank Bauer, the possibility of replicating the surf camp in a location such as Indonesia or Fiji for Aussie kids.

Spend five minutes with Kylie and look into the same big brown, knowing eyes – eyes that she has passed on to her son – and you get the feeling it's possible. As I step out into a blistering cold squally night – three hours after I first met Harvey McCorkell – I farewell the young boy. "Peace," comes his reply.

Incompatible? Not a chance. The kid's incomparable.

//Mark Robinson. Visit Into The Break to read more of Mark's work