The bronzed bravado of the Australian lifesaver is disguising the severe trauma that goes with witnessing people fighting for – and sometimes losing – their lives.
Rescuers as young as 14 have witnessed drowning, suicide and severed limbs from surfboards – scenes that are as disturbing as a road accident.
The bronzed bravado of the Australian lifesaver is disguising the severe trauma that goes with witnessing people fighting for – and sometimes losing – their lives.
Rescuers as young as 14 have witnessed drowning, suicide and severed limbs from surfboards – scenes that are as disturbing as a road accident.
To help with the trauma lifesavers face, an internationally recognised peer support program dubbed “emotional first aid” is being implemented at Sydney’s beaches. Surf lifesavers from Wanda, Narooma, Bondi, Clovelly and Cronulla were trained in the TIPS (traumatic incident peer support training) program and there are hopes that it will be adopted statewide.
One of the main problems is that while lifesavers are often in fear of losing their own lives during a rescue – and may be as traumatised as the victim – asking for help is contrary to the popular image of the volunteers.
Some at Bondi Beach Surf Club still remember the day they saw a friend’s empty surfboard float to shore. The ocean was so flat that day three years ago the lifesavers could clearly see him lying on the sand at Ben Buckler head, and dived to retrieve his body.
Fin chops, needlestick injuries, shark attacks, spearfishing accidents and anaphylactic shock from jellyfish stings are other hazards.
Patricia Newton began the TIPS program on the northern beaches 10 years ago, but lack of funding stalled its implementation elsewhere. The program recently received a community service award from the International Critical Incident Stress Foundation, which trains Red Cross and World Vision volunteers.
It aims to provide immediate counselling to those who are, for example, suffering post-traumatic stress after a dangerous rescue or unsuccessful resuscitation, Ms Newton said. She recalls a 15-year-old boy who rescued a child of non-English-speaking tourists at Dee Why but found out later two of their children had been swept out to sea. The other drowned. “Whilst he was a hero and everyone tried to make him a hero, in his heart of hearts he was devastated,” she said. “He has never come back to surf lifesaving again, and he has led a difficult life.”
Ms Newton said in the past rescuers confronted with a traumatic experience had dealt with it by drowning their sorrows back at the clubhouse, but that was changing. “They used to touch me on the shoulder and say, ‘Oh, Trish, you’re doing all that touchy-feely stuff ¦’ and then they’d go, ‘Oh, we never had any shit like that in our day.’ Then they’d go on to tell me about some gory event and they’d say they never needed any help and I’d say, ‘Well, you’re still talking about it.’
“People talk about their stories – it’s become allowed. They don’t have to be toughies any more.”