Josh Morgan: The Sounds Within The Silence

52-years old. Born deaf. Blind in one eye before he could legally drive. Elite bodyboarder, waterman, father and friend. The summary in my notebook reads a bit like a eulogy. It’s unintentional, but poignant. Josh could easily have died along the way. More than once. Despite - and in many ways in spite of – adversity, he’s living a full life. Inspiring and admired, least of all for some incredible ocean-going accomplishments.

“I don’t hold any grudge towards him. He proved to not be a great person, but at the time we were just kids. Maybe I should, knowing what I know now, but what good would it do me? It's nothing I want to waste time focussing on.”

It’s a perspective born from adversity and life experience. When he was 17-years old, Josh lost his eye to an accident. At the local bus stop, young boys were throwing single Ramset charges into a fire and running for cover. Josh, unaware that two charges had been thrown in, literally popped his head up too soon. The second blast came, angled directly through his left eye and lodged into his skull – missing the brain line by millimetres. It’s remained there ever since.

Rushed to hospital, his next memory was waking in a dark room to find he couldn’t surf for a month. The missing eye a second thought to what had become a lifelong addiction, and probably at that stage his saving grace.

For the many who know Josh, they might find it uncomfortable that I’ve lead this story with his physical adversities. Yet demonstrating how they have shaped his character is the intent. Resilient, understanding, fearless, and focused.

“Push what you can’t do to the side. Challenge it. Do what you can do. Be grateful.”

Floating in the great equaliser (James Geer)

Let’s circle back to the start.

Brothers Matt and Josh were both born with deafness. Matt is totally deaf and communicates by Auslan. Born in 1972, and younger by two years, Josh Brant Morgan has “severe to profound” hearing loss. In early childhood education programs for kids with deafness, Josh was able to develop his speech much further than what doctors considered possible for his level of hearing. He relies on lip-reading for incoming communication but can be completely verbal on the outgoing if necessary. Sign language conversations are utilised with his brother and other members of the deaf community.

Matt and Josh’s birth father struggled, bailing on mum and the boys around the time of Josh’s first birthday. A step-father (surname Murphy) was introduced, taking on parental duties with a mix of alcoholism, aggression, and bi-polar swings. Murphy could inflict a drunken rage at night on his partner, safe in the knowledge that Josh and Matt couldn’t hear it and weren’t able to help anyway. Whilst times weren’t always good, the family was fortunate to holiday on the Mornington Peninsula, eventually shifting to the back beach area in Blairgowrie. In a telling display of the social norms of the time, the boys adopted the Murphy surname.

Matt took to water very early. Puddles, pools, the shallows. It wasn’t long before he found the surf – a natural progression. The parents enjoyed boogie boarding and Josh followed Matt and his mother into the waves at Inside Sorrento. He remembers early interactions with other wave riders with a grin.

“Local hotshot Guy ‘Tubes’ Slagmolen was friendly enough to explain that sharing waves wasn’t the accepted norm. I just wanted to ride the same swell as him!”

At left: Even from a young age Josh displayed a range of riding influences - Late-80s kneelo style at Suck Rock, Sorrento (Josh's mum). Right: In South Australia six months before losing his left eye. Note the muscle shirt: Bad Billys would become a short-lived motif for Josh (David Wood)

The local surf community noticed Matt, who was developing into a teenage ripper at that stage. Nepean Boardriders Club was the landing place and they embraced the Murphy boys. While big brother surfed heats, Josh was encouraged to try the kneeboard division. But it was the mid-1980s and another discipline was gaining momentum: performance wave-riding on bodyboards was taking off and clubs were being formed.

“I was a bit of a wuss. Matt was all over the fibreglass board, but being a bit younger, my attention was drawn to the softer boogie board. I didn’t know it was a new thing to do. At the time I started, the momentum that bodyboarding was gaining really allowed me to stick with that craft choice."

"My first comp was a Peninsula Boogie Board Club event at Sorrento when I was 12 [early 1985]. I did okay. Dave Wood [who would later go on to run security at ASP / WSL events] was president and handed me a medal as I walked up the beach after the cadet final. I made it to the Aussie Titles at Dee Why and placed second in the cadets when I was 14.”

George Koloamatangi, the Morey Boogie sales rep noticed this young kid riding hand-me-down boards. He passed on a couple of his own, eventually sponsoring Josh, as did Wavelength and Billabong. A run of cadet and junior state titles had heads turning, but like many, grommethood had plenty of other distractions and a level of pre-social media fame mattered little.

In ’87 Josh travelled to the Aussie titles and placed third in the Juniors. In 1988, when the event ran at Whale Beach, he achieved the same Junior result but also a fifth in the Opens .

Just some of Josh's contest triumphs - faded newsprint capturing a golden period. Top right: Competing at Eastern View Josh won his first State Title and scored a Mach-77 for his effort

Back home, the influences weren’t always pure, but they provided for a stereotypically coastal grommethood. Albeit with a tragic twist.

“Through my mid-teens I hung with some rough and tumble kids. Days were spent surfing Sphinx, Portsea, and Sorrento with the Patricks whose family owned a Sorrento Milk Bar. It was a good life. Lots of mischief though. Losing an eye was tragic, but perhaps an inevitable outcome with some of the stuff we got up to.”

After the accident, he was instructed by the doctor that footy, fights, and concussions weren’t allowed. Could he surf? Yes, riding a soft 'boogie board' would be fine. Perhaps the doctor didn’t completely understand what bodyboarding had become. Head knocks were totally viable after freefalling six feet into a tube over a shallow reef, or launching out of the bowl and crashing to the flats at the end of ride.

“I was in Melbourne Ear and Eye Hospital for eleven days. Once released, I had to wear an eye patch for a couple of months before we could get the artificial eye manufactured. My mates quickly coined the nickname Bad Billy Eye Patch after the Billabong t-shirt graphic. They thought it was a strong match!”

Luckily, the ocean kept most other facets in line. A coastline exposed to swell, a burgeoning bodyboard scene, and a gaggle of local enthusiasts. It was the perfect mix in many ways, and for a period of time the Mornington Peninsula over-delivered on its development of talented riders. Josh reckons it was also the perfect environment to nurture youth.

“Our peer group was always around 20 to 30 lid kids. The sport was exploding. We learnt from the older generation who had been heavily influenced by stand-up surfer behaviour. Outsiders weren’t welcome at the breaks. Inside Sorrento was the learner spot, out back had the most reliable bowl. And you had the reefs. Baby Shark Island, Supertubes, and a bunch more we don’t talk about. Mike Stewart was my god.”

Cue the melting pot.

Darren Vaughan, Scott 'Gumby' Gardiner, Callum Powell, Grady Fink, James Jensen, Liam Eastop, Adam Morrison, Tawa Hura. All great talents in a tightknit scene full of strong riders. On adjacent Victorian coastlines Josh could spar with Brak Sheehy, Ash King, the Brockley Brothers and one-time world tour ratings leader Jason Hazel.

The pack was strong. And fearless. It’s been well documented, and just like in other zones, bodyboarders on the Mornington Peninsula took heavy water surfing to another level with the discovery and pioneering of new waves and groundbreaking performances at others.

Josh remembers the inspiration. Big Surf magazine. Hawaiian surf footage on the news. Early bodyboard videos and magazines. Stewart at Pipe. The local peer group.

No coloured vests, no judges, Josh goes over the step and into another realm (Chris Bagot/The Factory Digital)

It was still the era of big surfboards in medium surf. Bodyboarders could knife their much shorter equipment into the tube. For some of the boogie crew, the feedback from their fibreglass riding mates was a combination of ridicule and disbelief. But for Josh, there was plenty of encouragement too. “Ackers used to give me tips. Jake Irwin and Tim Crozier made a few trips to Hawaii and I used to listen to their stories.”

“I never ended up winning any National titles. I was competing against guys like Steve 'Macca' Mackenzie, Doug Robson, Matt Riley, Eppo, Dave Ballard, a few names I left out - they were hard to beat. Up the coast I’d see the level and return home to do my homework, then I’d go back up for a comp and watch them doing something new on different parts of the waves…they were always ahead of me, especially in small-wave performance. I only had mags and old videos to study on."

"I left the bodyboard comp scene in the mid-1990s. By then it was no longer my focus. Spinning to win, grovelling in onshore, junky surf. I’d much rather chase big barrels and at the time the slabs at home were really uncrowded. I found that more enjoyable.”

The natural progression in his freesurfing was deeper, steeper, bigger, rounder…and in many cases, more secluded.

At left: Mid-90s and the highway beckons, in a Leyland Mini Panel Van no less. "That was a good little van. For its motor size and age, it had a lot of grunt. I'd throw a Mach 7-X lid, fins, and wetty in the back of the van then fly down the Great Ocean Road thinking I was Ayrton Senna." (Sandy Huggard)

At right: Josh's international license in the late-90s - wearing the same woolen jumper.

“The recession in the late-80s and early-90s allowed for some serious dole bludging – Paul Keating’s Lid Team. I surfed every day, hung out with ratbags and generally enjoyed my youth. When it was time to choose a career I started work as a chef on the great advice of my mother. She said you’ll still have your days and can find work if you choose to travel.”

His apprenticeship began at a Mexican joint. Then it was off to a five star restaurant in the big smoke with a kung-fu champion turned head-chef who kept things tense in the kitchen. Both positions allowed plenty of mid-week surf days. Soon though it made more sense to relocate to Victoria’s west coast, first living in Barwon Heads with Brak, before taking a job at a Lorne restaurant, closer to the Otway coast.

Wayne Lynch and Russell McConachy were legendary, and in many ways their exploits made hardcore surfing the norm. Josh learnt to study the weather maps - then received via fax - identifying swell sources and favourable conditions. He hunted the 13th Beach zone, including its outside bombies. And when conditions were right it was off to the Otways. Remember, McConachy was regularly surfing fifteen feet-plus waves solo, Lynch was well off the beaten path finding big tubes and even bigger fish. There were no mobile phones, no safety crews, no buoyancy equipment.

“I couldn’t even use a landline phone to ring up couple of mates to surf… I cant lip read on the phone, so I just rocked up alone. If there was no-one in the water, I'd paddle out alone.”

I ask Josh where his sketchiest memories were from down there.

“I surfed a semi-secret reef to the west of Port Campbell one day. Russell was surfing the big wave place in town. Normally that means you can’t ride this wave, The bombie was ten to twelve foot, I don’t know how big that slab was but it was thundering. Not the sort of thing you’d confess to your loved ones, but an awesome solo session.”

He also remembers the discovery of the crazy left down south. Others had tried it, but it wasn’t well known. Brak and Josh kept an eye on it and eventually Josh had a surf out there. Jason Hazel encouraged him to visit it another day with a promise that delivered Tahiti-style tubes.

“I’m lucky I didn’t find that place earlier. I would have been out there on my own a lot - a good chance to get injured and miles away from the nearest help.”

The travel bug also bit, with multiple Indo trips and early adventuring to the tube machines of One Palm, G-Land, Tonga, and the Australian desert. The contest scene had grown tired for Josh yet the thrill of the hunt was a new passion, albeit with bigger risks.

He remembers a particularly special session at big, uncrowded Padang Padang.

“So many barrels, I was maybe a bit out of it when I came in hours later. The local crew were asking me questions and I was just staring into space. Dehydrated maybe? But maybe some concussion too from some oversized hold-downs.”

The concussion theme would prove an unwelcome constant along the journey.

Straddling the liminal: Between air and water, sound and silence, sight and darkness (Josh Morgan)

By the late-90s he’d moved back to the Mornington Peninsula. A new relationship started in 2005, and in 2007 Asha was born - the pinnacle of his life so far. Whilst the relationship with Asha’s mother may not have worked out, Josh acknowledges the special creation it gifted him.

“When Asha came along, she changed and grounded me. I didn’t have a good father in my life and I really wanted to learn about being a father. I’m scared of maybe not being there for her when she needs me. She makes me incredibly proud. So many good decisions. She is a great person.”

At the same time, big wave surfing saw a focus shift. Towing-in gave stand-up riders access to many of the heavier waves once dominated by the bodyboard community. On the Peninsula’s reefs, guys like Mark Grayson, Ryan Stanistreet, and Skeeta Derham were ready to take the next step. Josh shared his knowledge with them, eventually teaming up with Skeet as a tow partner.

“I was lucky to waterski on a single ski in my grommet years. Towing was a simple thing for me, but of course I needed to learn to ride a surfboard before I’d let anyone sling me into a wave. It was probably going to happen anyway. Like a lot of bodyboarders, the small days can become boring. Gumby lent me an old 7'0" Gordon Woods single fin and I was away. My first custom? A Mick Pierce 6'4" single fin  - tracker style. In 2004 I bought a jetski. We were hooked. Skeet reciprocated the partnership and whipped me into my first tow-wave in 2005.”

Variety is the spice of life.

For Josh, cross-pollinating his surfcraft wasn't sudden and nor was it fleeting. Styling at Melbourne wavepool on a 3'6" board, and during a contest at Gunnamatta in the late-90s: "I couldn't be bothered doing 360s in the comp so I stood up. Way more fun!

At one point, Josh’s love for different crafts saw 42 boards occupying space in his backyard. He had completely embraced the 'fit for function' philosophy, highlighted by three published shots taken over three months. They featured in Tracks towing a local bombie, Riptide paddling another bombie on his lid, and Australian Longboard Magazine riding an alaia at a protected point break. The recognition wasn’t easy for him. In retrospect, the style in each shot gives full insight into the ease of transition between crafts, and just how at home Josh is in the ocean. The one place he truly feels comfortable.

“I don't live in the hearing world. I don’t really fit in the hearing world and that's why I just spent so much time in the surf. That’s my world and my identity. With my disabilities I’m living in a different world and there’s times it can be hard. I spent so much time in the ocean to numb my personal problems. When I surf by myself with not a soul around, I find that really special. No hearing aids, just silence."

"There are days where the surf is junk, and I like to do long distance prone paddle board efforts. Even in middle of winter I really like it, I just feel like a tiny dot in the bay and nature is so big, I like being out in the raw environments.”

Thrust into the print limelight with two of his three consecutive spreads (Photos Robbie Warden/Australian Longboard Magazine, Mitch Nibbs/Tracks)

The stowaway Ramset charge in Josh’s skull and the likelihood of multiple undiagnosed concussions has seen his health hit some hurdles of late. For the last three to four years he's been land bound. It’s been tough. Seizures, fogginess, vertigo-type symptoms. He’s just returned to driving a car now after being seizure-free for two years, meaning his work as a landscaper has ceased. Luckily, early investments have taken the pressure off financially and a single focus on wellbeing has seen great improvements both mentally and physically.

The slow-down began in 2019.

A fibreglass swallow tail to the eye-socket, on his good side, the catalyst for a new outlook on preservation. The seizures and health decline of late furthering a need for strong-mindedness and healing. Prior to the COVID era, Josh’s surfing had been confined to smaller waves with soft surfboards and a focus on safety.

“I really hope I can get small barrels again, then I’ll live very happily.”

“I don’t let my disability define who I am. But my brain injury is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with.”

You needn't know Auslan to understand the message. Says Josh: "It was the first time I'd seen cameras in the water there and I wasn't used to it - I wasn't a fan. After they showed me the photos, I changed my mind. Now I'm holding one of the cameras. That's how I learn to show respect." (Mitch Nibbs)

Setbacks aside, Josh continues to be an important part of the surfing community on our Peninsula. An early interest in photography has given him an outlet and reason to be amongst the best sessions. His mentoring and guardianship of the people and waves are recognised by other community leaders.

“In my early teens I used to shoot on a small film Kodak 110 - 32 shots a roll. We’d drop them off at the chemist and wait for two days. I might only get one good shot out of a roll. Then I got the yellow Minolta water proof camera for Christmas. It was fun, but jealousy is a curse and I found myself wanting to surf instead of shooting. That was kind of it for my early water photography efforts. In the early-90s I bought a Pentax SLR to record travels and on-land moments.”

Fast forward a few years and technological advancements meant you could surf and shoot in the same session. Jealousy problem solved.

“Reid Young gave me his old GoPro2. It was old by the time I got it, but triggered something and I was hooked again. Skeet was amazed how I could swim around and get the shot with such a little contraption. He referred me to Owen Schultz who was selling his Canon and SPL housing. Of course I bought it.”

Whilst Skeeta was impressed with his mate’s skills, another local charger Mitch Nibbs inspired some progression with a bit of classic Aussie degradation. “He said to me ‘You got long way to go,” Josh recalls. “I strongly disagreed, and I was thinking watch this space! Im going to be good! It’s proven difficult. I’ve progressed a long way with help from online tutorials.”

It’s become a bit of therapy for a fish out of water.

“Not able to surf or swim yet, I’m lucky that my closest surf buddies are some of the best tube riders on the Peninsula and in Victoria. I'm really grateful for that. I get a rush from barrels they ride that I’ve captured. It’s like a radical drug and those positive endorphins help with my brain recovery.”

He’s careful not to push his subjects beyond their ability levels though. And rarely are the best photos shared outside a very tight-knit group. The point isn’t to create fame, but rather to capture and be a part of special moments in an individual’s life.

Josh’s adversities have taught him that impure motives are unhealthy and can lead to bad outcomes.

“I’ve been on both sides, surfing and shooting. I try not to tell the surfers what to do. When there’s a big swell coming, I try to keep texting to a minimum. The same on land before they head out, I try to keep low key. They have to focus and figure out if they want it. If not, no pressure from me.”

“Years ago I used to hate getting tons of text messages before a big swell - it put increased fear in my brain. I should be trying to relax as much as possible. Most of the time I didn’t reply back to them. The hype increases crowds too and I can’t be a babysitter for them if things go wrong.”

“It’s got to be all-positive vibes. That's something that doctors don’t teach you about prevention and cure.”

"Josh continues to be an important part of the surfing community" (James Geer)

In his typically understated and humble manner, Josh makes sure I don’t make this story into a hero worship piece. “My hope is that crew can read it, take one or two pieces of advice, and learn to accept who you are and strive for the best you can achieve.”

“I’m really thankful that I’ve had a good surfing experience, even though I’m not the best surfer - not even close. I’m just grateful for the life I’ve got. I know some might find that hard to believe, but I nearly died on the day of my accident. I was very lucky that I was able to keep surfing. I didn’t want to waste my life feeling sorry for myself; life's short and I'm only on Earth for a very short time, so I try to enjoy it. Hopefully I’ve taught my daughter that too. Watching her grow up has been so rewarding.”

“All my closest mates are the ones that surf in front of me at the moment. I’m really blessed that surfing and the ocean have given me a good life and the mates I’ve met are mates for life.”

“Today I’m happy to see where surfing has evolved to. It’s ageless, you can froth with anyone and you can ride whatever you want. Seeing more girls in the water taking it to next level is quite amazing to watch. And hopefully I’ll be back out there soon.”

Push what you can’t do to the side. Challenge it. Do what you can do. Be grateful.

// LACHY McDONALD