‘Between the flags’: women's participation in surf lifesaving sport in Aotearoa New Zealand

ABSTRACT

Surf lifesaving (SLS) clubs have been portrayed as male-dominated spaces perpetuating hegemonic masculinity. Contrary to this depiction, women and girls have participated in SLS in Aotearoa New Zealand since the 1930s, constituting approximately half of SLSNZ members. However, despite a growing body of research on women in ocean sports, studies on women's experiences in SLS are notably scarce. Addressing this gap, our interpretive research focuses on women's participation in SLS sports in Aotearoa New Zealand. Our findings reveal that the SLS community offers social and sporting opportunities for women throughout their life course. While providing a supportive environment for female friendships and mentorship, the sport fosters a sense of achievement, ocean skills and overall well-being. Nevertheless, challenges persist, as women encounter a ‘boys club’ mentality, where men are often perceived as the natural and legitimate bodies in SLS institutional contexts. Despite these perceptions, women don't necessarily feel excluded or marginalised within SLS spaces. Our research suggests that contemporary SLS clubs in Aotearoa New Zealand are more nuanced cultural spaces than previously portrayed. While still associated with masculinity, women dynamically navigate these male-defined arenas. SLS, as both a sport and lifeguard service, presents an institutional space where cultural norms reinforcing masculinity in ocean sports can be challenged.

KEYWORDS:

• Surf lifesaving
• Aotearoa New Zealand
• women in ocean sports
• blue space
• beach culture
• gender
• body image
• motherhood
• women athletes
• sport communities

Introduction

Surf lifeguards in Aotearoa New Zealand (hereafter called Aotearoa) are idealised as strong capable individuals tasked with keeping beaches safe. Across the island nation over 90 beaches are patrolled by volunteer lifeguards for approximately five months each summer weekend, with paid regional guards employed on weekdays in the busy holiday season at some popular beaches. Red and yellow flags marking the supervised swim areas that lifeguards ‘patrol’ are synonymous with surf lifesaving such that if you ask a local where a safe place is to swim, you will most likely get the response ‘between the flags’. However, among these lifeguard volunteers are athletes who participate in surf lifesaving sport (SLS sport), which is the focus of attention in this paper.

Research on SLS sport in Australasia has focused on men’s experiences, or analysed masculinities in the sport, describing SLS sport in Australia as a hyper-masculine sporting landscape (Booth, 2008, 2001; Drummond, 2021). This can be seen through media representation of lifeguards focused on the physique and bravery of men lifeguards and a narrative of heroic masculinity. For example, newspapers called the New Zealand team competing at Bondi in 1956 tall bronzed gods (Harvey, 2010, p. 47), and SLS clubs in Aotearoa in the 1930s were described as the ‘parade ground of choice for a new cult of idealised masculinity’ (Lloyd Jenkins, 2016, p. 55). This narrative has been reproduced by popular reality TV shows such as Australian-based ‘Bondi Rescue’, which showcased their first woman lifeguard in 2014, after eight years with a male-only cast (10 play, 2021). Although local productions like ‘Bay Patrol’ show more gender-diverse representations of surf lifesaving, the contributions of women lifeguards who Jaggard (1999) calls the ‘forgotten members’ of surf lifesaving clubs, nevertheless remain hidden. We aim to contribute to addressing this gap in understanding about women lifeguards in Aotearoa.

Research on women’s experiences in ocean sports is growing, inspired by feminist epistemologies that challenge the male dominance and masculine norms of oceanic sport. A growing number of studies focus on diverse women’s participation and experiences in sports including surfing, ocean swimming, windsurfing and sailing (e.g. Comley, 2016; lisahunter, 2018; Olive et al., 2015; Throsby, 2016; Wheaton & Tomlinson, 1998). However, research on women's experiences in SLS sport is limited. To address this gap, we draw on an interpretive research project centering women’s voices and experiences in SLS sport in Aotearoa. We begin our discussion with a brief introduction to surf lifesaving as a sport and culture in Aotearoa and highlight relevant academic literature on ocean sport, gender and culture. Continuing, the research methodology is introduced. The discussion and analysis are framed around key themes focused on SLS sport as a community and culture; and the experiences, challenges and opportunities for SLS sport women. Finally, the conclusion highlights key findings from the analysis, addresses limitations of this study and proposes future directions for research.

Surf lifesaving sport and culture in Aotearoa

Before detailing the development of SLS in Aotearoa, it is timely to note that coastal spaces in Aotearoa are significant places for work, gathering food and diverse recreation (Waiti & Wheaton, 2022). Activity in and around the moana (ocean) has long been an important and valued cultural and spiritual practice and source of sustenance, wellbeing, and identity for Māori, the tangata whenua or indigenous people of Aotearoa (e.g. Jackson et al., 2016; Phillips, 2020). Despite increasing calls for the need to look ‘beyond western tides’ (e.g. Wheaton et al., 2020), contemporary and historical accounts of ‘Kiwi’ beach culture and coastal leisure still tend to centre colonial and westernised narratives. Notably, Wikaire (2016) argues the longstanding Eurocentric culture of SLS in Aotearoa is a deterrent to Māori participation and has been since the origins of the ‘movement’. These beginnings of the SLS movement and sport in Aotearoa are now briefly explored, providing context for understanding contemporary experiences in SLS sport.

The increasing popularity of beach swimming as a leisure activity in the early 1900s brought an increase in drownings across Aotearoa and in turn, heralded the establishment of local surf lifesaving clubs in 1910 (Harvey, 2010). An initiative to keep club members physically fit saw the creation of SLS sport in 1912, with competitions taking off in the 1930s (SLSNZ, 2021a). The national governing body Surf Life Saving New Zealand (SLSNZ) was set up in 1932 and advertised itself as a public service organisation (Joyce, 2007). Surf lifesaving clubs were originally men-only spaces, however during World War I women took over most lifeguarding duties (Harvey, 2010). When the men returned from overseas, women were removed from their active roles on the beach; in response, women created their own clubs, with The Milford Girls Surf Lifesaving Club the first to be formed in 1932. Women continued to establish clubs, however in the 1970s, faced with dwindling participant numbers, many women-only clubs merged with existing SLSNZ clubs (Harvey, 2010). Since this time, the number of clubs nationwide has grown to 74 (SLSNZ, 2021b). Community service continues to be at the heart of SLS clubs as lifeguards are all volunteers ranging from teenagers of 14 years of age to adults, with the latter sometimes having decades of involvement (SLSNZ, 2021b). To become a qualified lifeguard, individuals must complete a rigorous training programme and then achieve their Surf Lifeguard Award (SLSNZ, 2021b). Practical and theoretical skills are refreshed and checked annually.

In the 2020/2021 season when this research was conducted, there were 19,645 total members of surf lifesaving clubs in Aotearoa (SLSNZ, 2021b), around half of which were women and girls. Although not all lifeguards compete in SLS sport, it is frequently heralded as a significant way to maintain skills, fitness and confidence for lifesaving duties. A range of local, regional and national SLS sport competitions comprised of multiple athletic disciplines and team events on the beach and in the water are offered across various age categories of senior surf sport (SLSNZ, 2021b).

SLSNZ has led recent initiatives to increase women's participation in all facets of surf lifesaving. For example, the need to increase the number of women inflatable rescue boat (IRB) drivers, a key skill to gaining seniority, led to formal initiatives such as Wāhine on Water being created by women members to mentor and encourage others to qualify to operate IRBs (Brownlie, 2022). Furthermore in 2021; 4664 women members were surveyed to identify potential gender and diversity disparities and the causes of these (Boardman & Fry, 2021). Survey findings highlighted the pleasures and negative aspects of involvement, including the persistence of ‘passive’ sexist behaviour and feelings of being overlooked for men athletes. Surveyed women called for more personal support in the form of role models and mentors, and more opportunities for development and high-quality training (Boardman & Fry, 2021).

Alongside these findings, it is evident that SLS membership continues to be dominated by Pākehā (New Zealand European). To counter this, Māori water safety scholars and advocates have promulgated contemporary water safety approaches that centre Māori worldviews and practices (e.g. Phillips, 2020), including through the establishment of Ngati Porou SLS, a Kaupapa Māori-based club (Wikaire, 2016). Māori respondents in the SLS survey still however noted the need for all cultures to be included in the ‘movement’ (Boardman & Fry, 2021).

Women and oceanic sports

Given the lack of research on women in SLS sport it is useful to consider the experiences and challenges of women in other male-dominated oceanic/beach sports which often take place in the same beach spaces. A range of barriers and challenges for women across different informal and formal water/surf sports are revealed (e.g. Comley, 2016; Humberstone, 2011; lisahunter, 2018; Olive et al., 2015; Wheaton, 2019; Wheaton & Tomlinson, 1998). Despite sharing oceanic spaces, researchers in Australia have argued SLS sport and recreational surfing have had very different, juxtaposing and often antagonistic cultures (Booth, 2004; Pearson, 1982). Surfing is often framed as a youthful, (white) male-dominated activity; with a focus on those who participate in the highly athletic shortboard surfing (lisahunter, 2018; Olive, 2016). However, there is a growing body of research showing women’s diverse experiences in both recreational and competitive surfing, including in Oceania (e.g. Nemani, 2016; Olive et al., 2018; Spowart et al., 2010; Wheaton & Thorpe, 2021). Women recreational surfers have stated that they often feel patronised (Olive et al., 2015), labelled as ‘women surfers’ not just ‘surfers’ (Comley, 2016, p. 1290). As Olive (2016) outlines in the Australian context, it is primarily men ‘who continue to benefit from existing cultural knowledges, assumptions and hierarchies, and who are most implicated in regulating and maintaining existing ways of going surfing’ (p. 172).

For the majority of participants, surfing is a recreation or lifestyle yet it also has a long history as a competitive sport (Wheaton & Thorpe, 2021). Like SLS, surfing competitions are typically organised in separate categories for ages, women and men, and boys and girls. Despite the industry recently addressing some key issues in competitive surfing such as equal pay, commentators have highlighted ongoing pressures for elite women surfers to conform to (hetero)sexualised and corporatised image of the surfer-girl (e.g. lisahunter, 2018; Wheaton & Thorpe, 2021).

Surfing researchers have also explored how sexuality, age and ethnicity intersect with gender to influence people’s experiences in surfing (e.g. Gilio-Whitaker, 2017; lisahunter, 2018; Nemani, 2016; Roy, 2016; Wheaton, 2019). For example, lisahunter (2018) highlighted how heteronormativity has long dominated elite surfing spaces. Exclusions for ‘silver surfers’, women and men in middle-age and retirement, were also noted by Wheaton (2019). While surfing brought ‘stoke’, wellbeing, and a sense of intergenerational community and connection akin to that described by younger surfers, challenges included having to fight for space and status alongside younger participants and intolerance towards older people, especially older women.

Furthermore, in some windsurfing spaces, women have said they felt evaluated by male standards of dedication, skill and risk taking’; with women who showed prowess and skill at windsurfing considered ‘one of the lads’ (Wheaton & Tomlinson, 1998, p. 264). Elite Māori/Samoan bodyboarder Mihi Nemani (2016, p. 101), similarly explained that as a ‘Brown’ woman surfing in Aotearoa, ‘despite the physical prowess and courage I portrayed, I was still confined to the rules set by men in the surf field’. Similar issues are noted in ocean swimming increasingly popular across a range of demographics in warm and cold-water geographies (Moles, 2021; Throsby, 2016), with the print-media challenging the legitimacy of women’s race-leading times in mixed-sex open-water swimming marathons (Knechtle et al., 2020).

Reports that women’s participation in, and experience of, oceanic leisure and sport is further complicated by entrenched social attitudes and ideals about what a ‘beach body’ is and does are also relevant to our study. Competitive women surfers locally and overseas have described pressure to display their toned and athletic bikini-clad bodies (Knijnik et al., 2010; Wheaton & Thorpe, 2021). Australian women beachgoers also cited feeling watched, and admitted to scrutinising other women, comparing their bodies to their own (Field et al., 2019). Such pervasive practices and ideas can impact both men and women who participate in sport on the beach and in the ocean, fuelling the notion that to be successful you must have a slim, young ‘rigorously prepared body’ (Booth, 2001, p. 18). Recent research with physically active young Māori and Pasifika women in Aotearoa (Nemani & Thorpe, 2023) also reveals their awareness and, importantly, contestation of pervasive Western, white body ideals.

Methods

This paper draws from a qualitative interpretive study that aimed to make sense of the complex social realities (Gratton & Jones, 2014) of women’s SLS sport experiences. The study was informed by feminist research agendas that identify, question, challenge, and critique gendered power and inequities, and provide a platform for change (Wheaton et al., 2018). Ethical approval for the study was gained from the Human Research Ethics Committee at The University of Waikato [HREC2021#11].

Six women who identified as cisgender and were active surf lifesavers (i.e. who had competed in SLS sport in the competitive season of 2020/2021) were purposively recruited for the study. All the women identified as Pākehā New Zealanders and ranged from 17 to mid-30s in age. They all grew up in Aotearoa with proximity to coastal space. Half the participants started SLS at the age of four; the other three began between ages 10 and 14. Two of the participants’ families (children and/or parents) were involved in SLS, two had siblings involved, and two were the sole participants in their families. The women were all accomplished SLS sport athletes, with some competing for national teams.

Qualitative semi-structured interviews were conducted by Author 1 over three months in 2021, face-to-face or online video call. Open-ended questions explored participant experiences in SLS sport. Interviews were audio-taped and lasted between 40 and 70 minutes. Once transcribed, reflexive thematic analysis was initially conducted by Author 1 to describe patterns and codes in the data and define relevant themes across data sets (Braun & Clarke, 2019, 2021). A back-and-forth iterative process took place among the three authors to establish themes.

The interview data was further contextualised through the three authors’ lived experiences as women in coastal blue spaces. Author 1’s prior professional and personal relationships across various coastal sports in the United States shaped and inspired this study. During this research, Author 1 was an international student living in Aotearoa. Similarities with the research participants based on age, gender and participation in ocean sports helped build rapport with each participant. However, she had never been a member of any SLS club in Aotearoa. Her different nationality and absence of connection to any specific SLS club created differences, and accordingly the need to be reflexive about her own lived experiences and place in the world throughout the research process. Author 2 and 3 similarly had lived experiences and prior research focused on coastal sport and leisure in Aotearoa. Author 2 also brought a long-standing understanding of SLS through active involvement with a club in sport committee, officiating and team management roles.

Data analysis revealed important insights into women’s experiences as competitors and volunteer lifeguards. Our focus here is on examining different gendered discourses and practices in SLS sport, and how these women challenged dominant masculine ideologies in the sport and culture. To do so, we draw on feminist research developed over the past 40 years across sport, leisure and recreation that has focused on understanding gender power relations across different formal and informal sporting cultures and spaces (e.g. Birrell, 2000; Francombe-Webb & Toffoletti, 2018; Hargreaves, 2000; LaVoi & Baeth, 2018; Mansfield et al., 2018; Messner & Sabo, 1990; Thorpe & Olive, 2016). Our analysis is grounded in these critical feminist approaches that emerged from the late 1980s, focused on gender as relations of power and seeing sport as a key site shaping gender relations (Connell, 2005; Messner & Sabo, 1990), drawing attention to how masculine ideologies and stereotypical constructions of femininities and the sporting body are (re)produced. However, as reflected in our analysis, we were cognisant of the need to understand sex/gender in relations to other axis of power such as socio-economic privilege, ethnicity and age (Watson, 2018); and that sporting spaces can also be sites for resistance or empowerment (Birrell & Theberge, 1994; Thorpe & Olive, 2016). We begin by highlighting the role of ocean sport and leisure in these women’s lives. The culture of SLS clubs and the opportunities for women to form sporting friendships with other women are then explored. Next, we highlight some of the challenges for women in SLS sport focusing on banter, male-defined performance standards and practices, and the societal pressure of the ‘beach body’ for SLS participants who are required to wear swimwear to train and compete. Lastly, we focus on exploring the benefits of the intergenerational nature of SLS sport and clubs.

Ocean relations: ‘I always find myself in the ocean'

Research recognises the importance of human relationships with the ocean, and how these can shape our identities, sense of self, wellbeing and spirituality (Britton et al., 2020; Olive & Wheaton, 2021; Waiti & Awatere, 2019). Likewise, all the participants in this research described a profound connection with the ocean, so strong that the conditions of the sea could affect their mood for the day. Emma and Izzy for example, acknowledged they had elevated moods and better days when there had recently been ‘good’ ocean conditions. Reflecting previous research on oceanic sport and leisure (e.g. Olive & Wheaton, 2021; Throsby, 2013), participants outlined their emotional connections to the ocean and an embodied sense of connectivity which was about much more than the sporting practice. This connectivity didn’t always involve water immersion but sometimes simply walking on the beach and observing the water. Women used words including ‘healing’, ‘appreciation’, ‘weightlessness’ and ‘escape’ to describe their connection to the ocean:

It was so peaceful out here … I’ll just sit there and look because it’s so beautiful. I feel my happiest when I’m in the ocean. (Emma)

However, the sea can also be perceived to be a place of risk and fear (Collins & Kearns, 2017; Olive & Wheaton, 2021), and women are often seen as more adverse to risk-taking in sport than men (Atencio et al., 2009; Laurendeau, 2008). Yet while these women noted the power of the ocean and how it could ‘scare’ them, they concurrently spoke of their skill and confidence, ability to ‘read’ the ocean, and the empowerment they felt being able to respond to the wave sets, tides and currents. As Emma recounted:

I’ve challenged myself to swim out with my eyes closed because why not? … . I was doing a warm-down at the end of the day and swam out. I realised I was in the middle of the ocean and looked up and stayed there for ages. I loved it, I always find myself in the ocean. (Emma)

Participants acknowledged the inherent danger of their sport and injuries they had experienced. Nevertheless the challenges of a dynamic oceanscape provided unique enjoyment and thrills. Descriptions of ‘super fun foamy bashes on the foamy [surf] boards’ with her brother were specifically highlighted by Ana and the dual ‘fun’ and ‘carnage’ of canoe events noted by Emily. These connections and opportunities were complemented by the collectivity of the clubbie community which is now discussed.

The clubbie community: ‘In it for life’

While SLS members compete in sport events in gender and age categories, they often train together as a team and lifeguarding patrols and club activities are not separated by sex/gender. This context promotes opportunities for intergenerational and mixed-sex friendships and arguably places SLS in a unique position somewhere between traditional and informal sports.

Commentators on SLS culture in Australia have noted the emphasis on discipline and teamwork in the sport (Booth, 2004). The young women in this study spoke about teamwork, emphasising the importance of friendship, camaraderie, and mentorship within their SLS sport and clubs (Light & Nash, 2006). For example, when asked about their favourite sport memories, the social and collective aspects of the clubbie community rather than specific events or individual achievements were targeted. Ana’s ‘love’ of sharing experiences with friends when competing challenging team events together typified women’s enjoyment. Libby also emphasised the social components:

It was my friends at the surf club who would hang out together every day or it was my friends from the other clubs that you only see when you're at a competition -those were some of the best memories.

Surf lifesaving has a motto ‘In it for life’. The athletes’ narratives repeatedly emphasised this aspect of the community. They highlighted that young and old, the ‘pimples versus wrinkles’, mix in friendly competitions and activities at their clubs, providing a valued source of mentoring, encouragement and guidance to younger members. This commitment to mentoring has been noted by teenage surf lifesavers in the Australian context (e.g. Light, 2006). Entire families also might train together. Most of the participants had also started SLS as young children in Nippers programmes with their parents, and planned to continue their club involvement beyond competing.

In addition to these peer friendships, most participants reported having older peer mentors, usually women, throughout their time in SLS. Emily recounted: ‘I had some older females that took me under their wing, really guided me. I got to meet a whole new range of people, and I didn’t even know it was a sport until then’. Libby also spoke about the helpfulness of multiple informal intergenerational mentors:

A bunch of people have helped me along the way, there have always been people you look up to. There is the part where you have friends that are different ages so it's really easy to learn from people that way. I definitely was informally mentored at the time. (Libby)

Mixed vs ‘women-only’ training groups: challenges and opportunities

While SLS is not male-dominated in terms of participants, it was evident from the recent SLSNZ survey that women felt they were overlooked in some situations and wanted more opportunities including personal support in the form of role models and mentors (Boardman & Fry, 2021). As lifeguard Havill noted about IRB training, ‘Sometimes I think that females aren't the first people to be thought of … they aren't consciously excluded, but aren't shoulder-tapped or aren't shown the door to be involved’ (Brownlie, 2022, p. 1). While not an initial objective we became particularly interested in understanding SLS’s capacity to encourage diversity and challenge stereotypical gendered practices.

Separate sporting groups and clubs for women can help increase the visibility of women in elite sports, and may help women and girls gain confidence and increase their skills in typically male-dominated fields (Cohen et al., 2015; Thorpe & Olive, 2016). Many of the athletes in this study reported enjoying training in a ‘women-only squad’ and reported a strong sense of community in these groups. Brookie spoke about looking up to the group of women in her club when she was younger and how appreciated a supportive ‘core group of girls’ was. The ‘girl squad’ was specifically mentioned by several participants as being a tight-knit social group of high-performance women athletes created through friendships, rather than through any formal structure. The ‘girl squad’ was not specific to one club but spanned across the different surf clubs in this study, providing people to train and socialise with outside of training and competition. This initiative suggests that SLS sportswomen are making moves to create supportive informal environments for both volunteer lifeguards and competing athletes.

Nonetheless, some participants liked to train with the boys. Brookie explained that she loved ‘being a girl’ and training ‘against’ the boys. For her, gender was not perceived to be an issue. Rather mixed training for Brookie was seen to be better ‘because if I train with them and beat them, it's more hype!’ While research on sex/gender-integrated sport highlights both the potential of mixed sex/gender sporting groups to confront power imbalances and traditional gender-based norms, it also identifies challenges and limitations (Fink et al., 2016; Hills et al., 2021; Travers, 2008). As Brookie highlighted, when men and women compete against each other in physically demanding sports, it can debunk gendered expectations that men are naturally stronger, faster, and more athletic. However, as we exemplify below, this attitudinal shift was not always evident amongst the SLS men.

In summary, the surf lifesaving sporting women in this study reported nuanced and at times contradicting views; some liked that they could have male friendships in sport, yet concurrently also enjoyed their all-women training groups. The sex-integrated and single-sex groups within SLS sport appeared to have different challenges and benefits for these women and girls. Although outside the focus of our study, we concurrently recognised that some men also may not experience training and competition underpinned by hegemonic masculinity ideals as positive or empowering (see e.g. Drummond et al., 2022; Robertson, 2003). The social world of SLS sport is clearly complex and how women navigate male-dominated arenas dynamically changes based on the context, intersectional factors and identities, and the culture in which women are embedded. Given all these women identified as cis women it is important to note that mixed sex/gender training groups for all participants might better include otherwise excluded identities.

The ‘Boys Club’: ‘It’s not a challenge but … ’

Some athletes initially downplayed any challenges they faced, responding to questions about any challenges with some version of a quick ‘no’ [challenges]. However, as the interviews progressed their phrasing switched to versions of ‘It’s not a challenge but … ’. As Olive et al. (2015) observed, recreational women surfers in Australia often avoided conversations about negative experiences, opting to focus on why they enjoyed surfing. Similarly, the SLS sport women were hesitant to speak negatively about their experiences, particularly concerning training with their male counterparts. Yet there were subtle and more overt ways in which women were treated differently. Banter was one example. Some women recounted banter that they interpreted as ‘light-hearted and fun’, while others felt banter could be exclusionary. As Mills argues, banter can operate as a form of indirect sexism by expressing ‘sexism whilst at the same time denying responsibility for it’ (2008, p. 12). Emma perceived being underestimated by the males in her club, and how banter was an every-day expression of this:

… but there are little things like I guess banter between the guys and girls at surf, cause most of the girls don’t challenge me. Like there aren’t many girls I’m like, ‘oh need to pick on her, because she will challenge me.’ I normally target the guys. … .So, it's little things where they underestimate the girls when we’ve got it [Emma]

Many described a ‘boys club’ mentality in which some, but not all, felt ‘othered’. This finding parallels the ‘boys club’ mentality in SLS clubs reported in the recent survey of women in SLSNZ (Boardman & Fry, 2021). More widely researchers have highlighted how an ‘old boys culture’ is entrenched across sports organisations in Aotearoa (Tate & Townsend, forthcoming; Wheaton & Thorpe, 2021), illustrating how institutional power, gendered ideologies, and hegemonic structures, continue to reproduce hegemonic masculinity in sport institutions (Burton & Leberman, 2017). However, our research suggests the lived experiences of the ‘boys club’ in SLS was not as straightforward as the boys are ‘in’ and the girls are ‘out’. Nonetheless, behaviour which ‘others’ different bodies and sex/genders, contributes to the marginalisation of those who identify as women and non-binary identities (Comley, 2016; Sanz-Marcos, 2023; Schmitt & Bohuon, 2022). One key expression of the ‘boys club’ culture was the ‘boy scale’.

The ‘boy scale'

As noted above, male standards have long pervaded women’s surfing and windsurfing such that women who excelled were not seen as ‘female athletes’ but as ‘one of the lads’ (Wheaton & Tomlinson, 1998, p. 264). Women often felt the need to prove themselves and meet male-defined standards to gain legitimacy and respect within these ocean sport communities (Comley, 2016; Olive et al., 2015). Similarly, our findings suggest that male standards continued to define performance, and status was gained by being ‘better’ than the males in the club. Sporting prowess led to being accepted by the male participants in their clubs. Emma quipped ‘if you were better than the guys you could join their side of the line up’. Others said they didn’t mind being perceived as less capable, yet admitted feeling pressure to ‘prove people wrong’. A sense of needing to beat the boys if they wanted respect was expressed.

Parallel to findings in windsurfing and surfing, some participants also found respect was more available for those women who also took risks, ‘going for it’ in large surf (Schmitt & Bohuon, 2022; Wheaton, 2000). Although there was a shared view among these participants that if you show up and ‘do it properly’ you are protecting yourself from being looked down on or treated differently, some of the women SLS athletes spoke about their frustration being perceived as ‘not as good’ as the men in their club. They highlighted that even when women continually beat male times during training, they were still perceived as less capable athletes, despite clearly having the physicality and the skill set, including in reading the waves and tides, that was needed to win races.

These women also gave many examples of how men’s sporting performance was valued differently, which appeared to be particularly prevalent in the context of SLS organisations and events rather than informal training activities. For example, Izzy described the outdated and exclusionary commentary at an event:

The female finals had been [finished] and the announcer said, ‘oh and this is the event that everyone has been waiting for all day’, and it was the open male final. I was like, are you kidding me? Things are getting better in New Zealand. We have equal prize money now and I think it's equal in Aussie but there are a few older attitudes that have stuck around. [Izzy]

Another situation women experienced as particularly demoralising was men being allowed to compete in the larger surf during carnivals whereas the women’s event was moved to a smaller wave venue. Izzy noted the frustration this caused:

I get annoyed when they move the females if the surf is huge. They move the female arena down to where the surf is smaller. I think that they should keep the open females and under-19 females in the big surf and move the younger people down to smaller surf … Ya, that is one thing that annoys me … I know a lot of the older girls, myself included, would have rather stayed in the bigger surf. Cause it's just saying like ‘Oh, no girl will ever be as good a lifeguard as a male’. (Izzy)

Drummond (2021) chronicled similar practices in Australia where under-17 men events, along with the open women, were relocated to beaches where it was more sheltered and the surf was much smaller. Detailing the ‘terrifying’ experience of watching his son compete in huge surf before this relocation, Drummond (2021) argued the decision to allow young men in to ‘test the waters’ (p. 26) not only ultimately classified men’s bodies as expendable but also promoted hegemonic masculinity in SLS sport that needed ‘redressing’.

Beach bodies on display

In surf lifesaving, I’m not sure if it's the same for every girl but being in a sport where you are living in togs on the beach every day is quite hard [Izzy]

While we did not directly ask interviewees about clothing or body image, given the pervasiveness of ‘beach body’ ideals, it was not a surprise that comments about wearing swimsuits (togs) and body image emerged in the conversations. The need for swimwear functionality that would stay secure in the surf so they could focus on racing was noted. Some joked about ‘togs coming off in the surf’, commenting that only the younger athletes would wear a bikini rather than a full swimsuit. However, there was also some discussion about how togs looked. For example, Emma talked about finding a swimsuit that was both functional and still flattering:

So I wear a one-piece, I’ve found a brand that works well with my body and me. It's a nice shape, a nice cut, flattering, and supportive [Emma].

While body image was not a universal focus for all of these women, it was an issue for a few, especially during puberty and when older. As Izzy explained:

I think females go through puberty a little bit more noticeably, changing weights and changing body types and things. It's quite hard to be in little togs on the beach. I know I struggled with that for a while. (Izzy)

Several of the participants in this research were high-performance athletes competing at a national level. Recent research on elite New Zealand sportswomen reported that the social pressures for women athletes to look a certain way can have complex negative impacts on their physical and mental health (Heather et al., 2021) and that a dominant belief was that leanness equates to better physical performance, adding complex layers of pressure for young athletes (Thorpe & Clark, 2020). While this issue was not a focus of our research, one interviewee noted the pressures of wearing swimwear and coaching advice about dieting to improve speed.

Moreover, body image anxiety was not an issue confined to puberty or elite athletes. The social pressure to ‘bounce back’ to a pre-baby body often creates anxiety for women (Maddox et al., 2020), which was acknowledged by some women in SLS. One participant noted that going back to the sport after childbearing was ‘a real challenge, purely because I knew … this is what I was like before babies (gestures hands apart) after babies, I wanted to be back to where I was’. Even women who had not yet had children discussed how they were worried about how childbirth would change their body’s shape and abilities. Below, we focus on some of the challenges associated with motherhood, illustrating the shifting and multiple identities of women SLS athletes.

Mum or athlete? The multiple identities of women athletes

Historically sport and motherhood have been presented as incompatible binaries (Hargreaves, 1994), and as research has shown, some women athletes perceive motherhood as the end of their sporting freedom (Palmer & Leberman, 2009). Yet, increasingly mothers are visible as elite athletes, particularly in the media. Also helping to challenge the trope that motherhood and high-performance sports are incompatible are studies that show athlete mothers view themselves as positive role models and that motherhood enhances their experiences in sport (Palmer & Leberman, 2009; Spowart & McGannon, 2022), including surfing (Spowart et al., 2010). Despite this, the notion that to be a mother you must give up training at a high level was prevalent in these women's narratives. One noted that having a child would be akin to a career-challenging injury. Others said they were already thinking of the effect motherhood would have on their sports performance, long before they planned on having children.

Research on athlete mothers has found that women often restructured family and personal schedules instead of completely forgoing participation in sports, yet social and financial support systems were vital (Palmer & Leberman, 2009). One research participant described juggling the many facets of being a mother, having a career, and being an SLS athlete: ‘It's trying to work full-time, trying to do that job properly, and trying to be a mum properly. Yes it’s definitely a balancing thing’. While recognising the challenges, she was hopeful that the intergenerational nature of SLS, and inclusion of young children would enable her to stay involved in SLS club life. In other sports contexts, intergenerational involvement has been a predictor of lifetime physical activity (Holt & Talbot, 2013).

Most of the women in our study, mothers, or non-mothers, said they envisioned their children participating in their clubs and staying involved themselves. This is perhaps unsurprising as many of these women had started in SLS as young children and had families that also participated in SLS. However, more than this, SLS was seen as providing the supportive intergenerational environment they needed. Some women described their SLS club as ‘a family’ providing a ‘strong positive community’. SLS clubs provide many different avenues for intergenerational involvement including coaching and lifeguarding, thus providing ways that could help families participate in sport together.

Discussion

Situated across feminist scholarship in the sociology of sport and leisure, and interdisciplinary research on blue spaces and wellbeing, this research on SLS contributes to the growing body of literature exploring women’s experiences in ocean-based sport and leisure in both formal club-based and informal settings. While historically SLS clubs and institutions have been depicted as male-dominated and associated with performances of masculinity, including competitiveness and macho pride (Booth, 2001), we have shown contemporary SLS clubs and communities in Aotearoa are more complex cultural spaces.

Some of our findings are in line with previous feminist studies of ocean sports, particularly surfing. SLS sport is less male-dominated than recreational or competitive surfing, yet like surfing, a persistent belief in men as the natural and legitimate yardstick exists. Although skill and knowledge as well as strength are important in being successful, in SLS there is still an assumption that men are generally stronger, ‘natural’ risk-takers (Drummond, 2019). This belief underpinned the ‘boys club’ mentality these women experienced, impacting the everyday practices of athletes and coaches and that of SLS organisationally, particularly in the ways competitions had been organised, and in women’s lack of progression to senior leadership positions.

The pressures for elite women surfers to conform to sexualised and corporatised image of the surfer-girl are widely recognised (Brennan, 2016; lisahunter, 2018). Although these issues were less evident in SLS, the challenges of wearing swimwear to train and compete persist, with women showing reflexive self-awareness about the currency of particular bodies. However, the social structures in sports are complex, and women’s experiences and subjectivities are diverse; therefore, research needs to avoid over-generalising (women’s) experiences (Scraton, 2018). More research is needed to understand the extent to which this sport uniform may be limiting participation in SLS for some women. It is also important to draw attention to the potential pressures on elite women SLS athletes, particularly as appearance-related expectations for elite athletes in Aotearoa are still prevalent, underreported, and undertreated (Heather et al., 2021).

This research also contributes to understandings of the complex ways in which women navigate societal expectations about their bodies, their time, and what it means to be a woman athlete. The mixed-sex and age training squads in SLS, provided a particularly interesting lens into the ways SLS could challenge gender hierarchies and dominant expectations of femininity. The women in this research, both young and older, had found ways to create space to define what it means to be a SLS athlete. While recognising women were often seen as different and as less capable, they did not feel SLS was a space that excluded or marginalised their participation. Although these women were all competitive athletes who enjoyed formal competition and training, their narratives also emphasised the more informal parts of SLS such as the intergenerational community, friendships and the ‘stoke’ of the sport. Reflecting research on recreational surfing, they appreciated their beach-based lifestyle, particularly the immersion in ‘natural’ blue space, the intergenerational and supportive community and friendships with other women, and the sense of achievement, skill, and wellbeing the sport provided.

Limitations and further directions

Recognising the small sample of women, and their heterogeneity in terms of ethnicity the limitations of this research need consideration. While the research was able to highlight some of the potential ways women of different ages could engage with SLS, all these women identified as Pākehā (New Zealand European). Aotearoa is composed of multiple ethnicities and cultures that can have different cultural, spiritual, and sporting relationships with coastal blue spaces (Liu, 2021; Waiti & Awatere, 2019; Wheaton & Liu, 2024). Research on coastal blue space suggests these communities experience different barriers, or forms of (dis)connect, as reflected in swimming proficiency and drowning incident data (Wheaton & Liu, 2024). Expanding understanding of how diverse communities experience and connect to coastal places thus remains an important research agenda when considering ocean sport and leisure, and surf lifesaving, in Aotearoa. It is also notable that participants in this study were all cis-female and there is a clear need for further research to consider the experiences of gender diverse women in SLS, and how clubs and organisations are recognising the need for the inclusion of more fluid intersectional identities.

Considering the storied histories of masculinity and sport in SLS, this research is an important step towards understanding women’s experiences that needs to be built on. An attitude of male superiority (Drummond, 2021) is still prevalent in the movement today (Boardman & Fry, 2021) that will require ongoing attention in the SLS community to enact lasting cultural change. Women SLS sport athletes in our study recognised changes including the inclusion of women in leadership and representation in areas such as coaching as being important to help address these challenges and concerns. SLS sport and lifeguarding in Aotearoa remain a publicly visible institutional space where there is an opportunity to challenge cultural norms that reinforce normative ideals of masculinity in ocean sport. Participants in this study shared how they constructed their place in SLS sport, acknowledging the women who mentored them, and carving out places for the next generation of surf lifesaver athletes.

In conclusion, despite SLS's long history in Aotearoa and evidence of women as participants through its development, this study contributes to filling a notable gap by focusing solely on the experiences of women within the surf lifesaving sport domain. No longer at the margins of this sporting practice, women over the past century have made significant inroads as athletes, lifeguards, coaches and administrators. However, reflecting research on both informal water-sport cultures, and more institutionalised sporting spaces, entrenched gender power relations at all levels from the local/individual to institutional leadership and culture continue to linger and require ongoing attention.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).