One word that excites any Australian surfer… Winter, oh and sex, but that’s another story.

Winter… waves become unhidden, fair-weather surfers become hidden, warm early showers, the coffees are warmer, winter is just better.

Why chase the summer when our own backyard produces winter gold?! Why wake up at stupid o’clock, stand nose to ass in airport lines, sit on an oxygen-deprived tube for what seems like endless hours, deal with the worry about your board being thrown and thrashed by our respected airline workers. It just doesn't sound dreamy. Well, I invite you to pack the car, grab your coffee, play your kendrick, and hit the open road for your Oz search.

Let’s reignite that burning fuel of discovery in your belly, and search our own golden slopes; red roads and distant blue shores.

Without further ado, here’s Cam & Hayden to enlighten you about their recent trip south of the Australian waters.

How about A-frame sandwiches for breakfast?

Below words - Cam Stynes

Ever looked at something for so long that your mind starts playing tricks on you? Trying to scope out a place you’ve never been to is so painstaking, it screws with your mind.

Will it be big enough? Is the swell the right direction? What about the wind? But I’ve heard this, heard that! Didn’t it need to be huge? Sometimes you just have to drop it and go!

All signs were pointing to a two-day window, a huge low was building off the Southern ocean so we took the punt. 

The anticipation of uncrowded bliss.

Landing on the small island south of Victoria we didn’t know what to expect, with a quick hustle to the supermarket to load up on snacks ­– tuna, baked beans and the essential green demons.

The boys were on their way to the famed Martha Lavinia.

Coming over the first dune, anticipation was high and with the first sign of perfect, spitting A- frames no one could get out of the truck quick enough.

Boards, wetties and soiled undies went flying as well as numerous profanities that would have Gordon Ramsey raising to applause. Are you fu$#ing kidding me! 

How can a wave be so perfect? 

A perfect little corner of ocean to hide away in.

We felt like groms again, a full day down the beach with no one around. 

Coming in from our second surf to a fresh, charcoaled, steaming-hot can of baked beans, sand-filled sandwiches and a warm fire. There’s nothing better. 

Much needed horizontal relief after so much time standing in the tube.

After a quick refuel we’re back out there to yet again perfect wedges as far as your eyes can see. 

Tired and sore we pack up in the dark and make a run to the pub, and what a pub it is. Some of the biggest, tastiest steaks ever seen. Cool locals always up for a yarn and brown goodness flowing all night.

A perfect hangover antidote.

With sore heads we made our way back to Martha’s the next morning, assuming it was potentially going to be onshore. Expectations were low and hangovers were intense, but as we made our way over the same dune from the previous day yet again we were blown away. ‘ARE YOU KIDDING ME? 

While a touch smaller, we were blessed again with perfect wedges. It was like ground hog day, boards, wetties and undies were flying everywhere. 

Exhausted we sat eating crackers and some of King Island’s finest brie with grins from ear to ear. 

We took the punt and I’m glad we did, Martha Lavinia is truly a magical place.

Fireside reflections after a day of pumping waves.