It should have been a fun surfing break in Morocco. But Frazer Riley spent the trip having to hide who he really was.
And he decided he was going to do something about it.
Born into a family of watersports enthusiasts, Riley had spent his childhood holidays chasing the waves – and felt a trip abroad with his boyfriend was the perfect time to learn how to surf properly.
A day before travelling to Morocco, they discovered a problem.
“We didn’t realise that it’s illegal to be gay in the country we were going to,” Riley remembers.
“We had to pretend to be cousins. So I was doing this incredible sport that I loved so much – but at the same time, I was worrying about whether I was cheering camply or coming across as effeminate when I was falling off the board.
“My experience of learning to surf was of hiding my true identity, and I never wanted another queer person to feel like that.”
‘They said we’d given them hope – that moment was unreal’
That trip helped inspire Riley to create Queer Surf Club, which celebrated its first birthday this month.
Its goal is to provide a space where LGBTQ+ surfers from around the world can be themselves, in and out of the water.
Initially, Riley wasn’t sure how it would be received.
“I was so embarrassed even sharing the idea with my boyfriend,” he says.
“But then I just jumped in – obviously having an idea of what I thought it could be, but not expecting the reaction it’s had so far.
“I remember getting my first direct message from an individual in Australia. They weren’t out, but they knew they’d been gay for a certain amount of years.
“They’d never believed they could be their real self in surfing, but said we’d given them hope. And I realised that even if we’d just helped that one person be comfortable with who they are, it’s enough.”
‘I believe surf culture is on the cusp of changing’
Since the launch of Queer Surf Club, Riley has received dozens of similar messages from right around the world – including from people who are opening up about their experiences for the first time.
So why have some LGBTQ+ surfers felt unable to be themselves in a sport that seems to have such a laid-back, easy-going image?
“Obviously, I can’t answer on behalf of every single surfer,” Riley says.
“There are incredible individuals out there who are welcoming and inclusive. But the issue with surf culture is that there’s a very singular, homogenous story on what it is to be a surfer, from how you surf to riding shortboards to what you wear.
“That image is generally cis-gendered, straight white men who are athletic and able-bodied – and that narrative has perpetuated surf culture since conception, almost.
“Now, I truly believe we’re on the cusp of changing. Surfers are waking up and looking around them and seeing who is present and who isn’t.”
‘There are people in surfing who don’t have the confidence to be themselves’
Starting the club in a pandemic has been challenging. But earlier in June, dozens of surfers from across the UK came to Devon for its first official event.
Other meet-ups are planned for later in the year – but for Riley, the power of that first one is going to be hard to top.
“We had a big ‘Queer Surf Club’ flag on the beach, a big old gay flag with our logo on it,” he says.
“We actually had a local dad come up to us and thank us for being there and flying that flag as a symbol of our presence.
“There are people still out there in surfing who don’t have the confidence to be themselves.
“So to see people there and building a community was so joyful and so much fun. It was a gift, really, to see what something can be.”
