AustLit

Possibly the world's first surfing paper, The Surf (later known as The Surf and Suburban News), was established in December 1917 by a group of Bondi surf bathers. Edited and published by Con Drew, the magazine provides fascinating insights into the social life of Bondi's lifesavers at that time.

'The object of The Surf is to champion the interests of the beaches and work steadily for their protection and development.' The magazine made itself available to surfers and the general public to 'ventilate their grievances and defend their rights'. One such grievance was the early closing (6pm) of the Bondi and Coogee surf sheds. On the other hand, 'The Surf does not forget that the surfer is a gay-hearted, care-free child of nature, who enjoys the good things the gods have given him, and it will, therefore, strive to reflect in its pages some of the gladness that dwells in their hearts'. The column 'Surf Shooters and Sirens' was in-house or, rather, on-beach gossip, naming individuals – usually by nickname or first name – and their foibles. The magazine carried news and tips for racing and current theatrical and picture shows, as well as swimming, boxing, and fishing notes. Surf carnivals were covered in reports and snapshots. The covers carried increasingly risque photographs of starlets. Printing and selling well over 6,000 copies by no.11 (9 February), the magazine was complaining of paper shortage, and the price doubled from no.15 (9 March). After the Easter issue (no.20, 13 April), it closed down for the winter season, intending to start up again in September. It didn't.

Pubicised upon its release 1916 as the 'latest Australian sporting novel, Con Drew's sequel to the popularly received collection of stories co-written with I. B. Evans and published as The Grafter in 1915. In noting that the volume was 'excellently printed and would likely find a ready sale,' the Sydney Sportsman's book reviewer writes:

'Under the title of Jinker, the Grafter's Mate, Con Drew, in an Interesting manner, tells of the doings of a pair of racecourse battlers, whose whipcord nerves, armor-plated hides, colossal cheek, and intimate knowledge of the strong points of the sporting game, constitute their capital. Time after time the author ingeniously puts them in the pool, and when II looks a tenner to a tin-tag they are sent for, he brings them out on top.' ('Jinker.' 15 March 1916, p.8.)

In its 'Publications Received' column a few months later the Newcastle Morning Herald and Miners' Advocate records:

Australians in general, and sportsmen in particular, will enjoy every page of Jinker, the Grafter's Mate. It is written in Con Drew's best and breeziest style. Jinker and the Grafter, the two rogues of the turf and of every other sphere which claims their attention, are worthy disciples of the Devil, and the numerous methods which they adopt to fleece the public of their money, and to make life more endurable for themselves, are well pictured by the author. Particularly readable are the descriptions of betting scenes, in which the Grafter and his evil comrade are engaged in a constant battle of wits against Fate and their clientele (22 June 1916, p.3).

Advertised as the 'latest Australian sporting novel (Sydney Sportsman 14 July 1915, p.2), The Grafter is in fact a collection of yarns set in and around the racing industry. The stories largely focus on two shady characters, The Grafter and his mate Jinker, who are described in the Mercury (Hobart) as having "very vague ideas of honesty, but [are nevertheless] amusing and quite human' ('Sundry Books' 3 December 1915, p.2). In its review of the collection, Sydney's Sun newspaper says of the book:

Con Drew and J. B. Evans are two local authors, with whose names Australian literature has not previously been acquainted. Which shows that Australian literature Is a short-sighted affair, seeing that some of the yarns contained in The Grafter, a volume of short but connected stories just published, had previously appeared In the Daily Telegraph. How they escaped notice is a mystery... The Grafter Is no mixture of coster-monger and Bowery boy. He Is as Australian as Pinchgut itself, and he never overdoes the part. His dialect is genuine; he Is just the same joyous, free and easy, happy sinner so many of us have known and suffered from. In no sense Is the book an echo or an imitation. It recalls the work of no other author, though it is filled with the same deep love of human nature which characterises Neil Lyons and the same depth of low-life observation which made the name of the late Frederick Greenwood ('Good Goods ; Bad Packing' 18 July 1915, p.22).