I was sitting on the bus next to Jack Crossly, the only kid who’d made any real effort to talk to me during the first two days of school. We were on our way to Rosslare Point – to the camp. It was about 40 minutes away – half on normal roads, and the last part on a dirt track. The camp was only a few hundred metres from the ocean.

‘So tell me about this Sport Legends Competition, Jack,’ I said.

‘Well, it’s been going for years and years. What they do is give out points for the different sports. First up is usually the Legend of Surf. But that’s sort of separate. There’s one boy winner and one girl winner. Then there’s Legend of Cricket, Legend of Tennis, and it goes right through the year till the last one, Legend of Swimming.’

‘Why is surfing separate?’ I asked.

‘Well, with the other sports, there are three parts. There’s a quiz, a skills test and then a game. The teachers give you points in each of them. With surfing, it’s really just the surfing and the ironman and ironwoman events.’

It sounded great. In fact, it sounded absolutely amazing.

‘So, you’re saying that you actually get to study sport. And practise your skills. So it’s like a school subject?’

I couldn’t believe I’d landed in such an awesome school.

‘Yep, that’s it. At the end of the year, whoever gets the most points is the Sandhurst Legend of Sport.’

We were getting closer to the sea. The salty smell reminded me of summer holidays, sandy feet and always being hungry.

‘So does everyone go in it?’ I asked Jack.

‘Nah, only if you want to. Girls can go in it, too, but they have netball when we have footy,’ said Jack.

‘Will you go in it?’ I asked.

‘Yeah. Dad wants me to. Says it’s good for me. Plus, he reckons he’ll give me $100 if I come third or better.’

I thought about this as the bus bumped along a dirt road towards our camp.

‘It all seems pretty serious,’ I said.

‘Well it is, especially for some kids – and their parents.’

When we arrived at Rosslare Point, the camp leaders told us the rules of camp and sounded the loud siren which would be used if we had to assemble on the decking in an emergency. Then we went off to our dorms. They were rooms of five. I was in with Jack (phew), Liam, Jordie and a quiet kid called Bryce Flavel.

Our first surfing session was scheduled for that afternoon. We had been divided into groups but everyone was surfing over the next three days. The ironman competition was on the last day, Friday.

There was no beach access from the cabins, so we took a bus to the beach car park.

I was watching Liam, whose nickname was Bubba. He was looking worried. He was trying to pull on his rash vest – you know, a skin-tight lycra T-shirt that we were wearing under our wetsuits to stop them giving us a rash. I could see why he was concerned. Getting him into a wetsuit would be a massive challenge.

‘You been surfing before, Bubba?’ I asked him.

He looked at me and shook his head. ‘I’m no good in seawater,’ he said.

‘C’mon,’ I said. He looked up.

‘Okay, coming.’