There is always a critical moment in a rescue. That’s when Mark is most fearful

Thankfully, he’s not on shift on this pleasant mid-week summer afternoon, and we’re sitting in the comfort of the seafood restaurant Fisho’s Torquay – one of Scotland’s favourite haunts.

“I love this place. I love the idea there’s no freezer out the back. It’s all fresh.”

He also relishes coming to Fisho’s with a group of friends where they all throw down $20 or $30 for food, cast aside the menus and ask the staff to bring out whatever they recommend. So, that’s what we have decided to do.

We tell Fisho’s owner Luke Edwards to serve up a few of his freshest suggestions, and he starts us out with some scallops.

“Really simple – on the barbecue,” Edwards says.

This dish sets the tone for the meal – it’s easy-going and unpretentious with fresh seafood as the centrepiece while a soundtrack of classic rock plays in the background.

It is the first of enough dishes to feed three people. That is just as well because it means our photographer can join in too. The relaxed vibe all seems to suit Scotland’s laid-back demeanour on this afternoon when he can think back over what has been a busy year.

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In August, Scotland was named Lifesaver of the Year at Lifesaving Victoria’s 2024 Awards of Excellence. Last summer he put in 44 hours of volunteer patrols at the Fairhaven Surf Life Saving Club in addition to almost 150 hours of paid patrolling throughout the region, which included operating the jetskis – known as the rescue watercraft service.

Life Saving Victoria credits him with overseeing crews that conducted 300 rescues in the 2023-24 season in his capacity as patrol captain and team leader.

Scotland says winning the award was an honour, but insists everybody who was nominated was equally deserving. Above all, he hopes it will inspire younger generations of lifesavers to spend their time volunteering and working to protect others on the beach.

“We don’t seek out these awards,” Scotland says. “But I hope a young lifesaver is looking up at what I’m doing – helping contribute to the communities that I’m involved in – and wants to continue doing that as well.”

The gentle twang of Neil Young’s Heart of Gold drifts from the speakers, while Scotland explains how his work with the emergency service is as much about training young people as performing rescues himself.

But he would rather rely on preventing the need for rescues in the first place by educating beachgoers about staying safe in the water. It’s an ethic that defines his career too.

Scotland, who now lives by the ocean in Jan Juc, teaches outdoor education and environmental studies at St Joseph’s College in Geelong. He loves the job and the school year routine suits him too.

“It works well for me because when I’ve got time off from teaching that’s when we’re the busiest, down here on the coast.”

There are parallels aplenty between his teaching and his work with Life Saving Victoria. The topic of investing in young people and helping them enhance their knowledge of rescues and the ocean seems to get him animated.

Scotland has also tried to continue developing his skills too despite his already substantial experience.

A plate of Coffin Bay Pacific oysters topped with pomegranate arrives as Scotland describes the camaraderie that comes with working in a team of people committed to the common good. The sweet garnish adds sophistication to the salty flavour of the oysters.

The work of Life Saving Victoria is becoming increasingly complex too. When he started working at the Torquay Surf Life Saving Club in his early 20s, Scotland remembers there was tension between the volunteers and paid lifesavers, even though the latter put in plenty of unpaid hours.

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Scotland believes that strain has since dissipated, which is fortunate because the work of keeping beachgoers safe is getting trickier as more people seek out isolated beaches – away from crowds and the red and yellow lifesaving flags.

That trend became painfully apparent on New Year’s Day in 2024 when Scotland was powering between busy beaches on a jetski, assisting crews from Anglesea to Lorne. Scotland was parking the jetski back at Fairhaven when he was alerted to a distressed swimmer at a nearby unpatrolled beach.

By the time he got there, paramedics and Anglesea lifesavers had arrived and Scotland assumed the role of incident commander while lifesavers performed compressions on the unresponsive patient. After 45 minutes the patient was declared dead. Scotland managed to maintain his composure until he returned the jetski.

“As I got back to Fairhaven and packed up the jetskis, that’s when it really hit me, and I was quite upset.”

In that awful moment of realisation, Scotland was grateful to be back at his home club and wrapped in his community’s embrace. But he admits to some frustration too.

“I’m never overly critical of myself because I think everything we did gave that person the best possible chance,” he says.

“Had that person been swimming in between the red and yellow flags, or close to the red and yellow flags, maybe there might have been a different outcome.”

While Scotland tries to spend as much time as he can in the ocean, he is still intrigued by its varying moods. He is a keen surfer who likes to push the limits of his physical ability in big and ugly surf or just going for a quick dip after work.

As we explore the topic of surf the food keeps coming, too, like a set of waves. Fresh gummy shark in thick crunchy batter that evokes childhood summer memories of fish and chips. Grilled John Dory with crispy skin. Hand cut chips, made from potatoes grown in Ballarat.

While we plough through the food Scotland admits to sometimes still feeling scared when the surf gets dangerous. But it is the critical rescues, when he must reach a patient quickly, that he finds particularly stressful.

“That’s the time when I’m the most panicked and fearful because I feel like I’ve let that person down, letting it get to that stage.”

He recalls one rescue a few years ago at Fairhaven on a summer day with solid waves. Lifesavers had already pulled a few people out of the water when Scotland spotted a boy who was standing only in waist deep water but had “terror in his face”.

“Then this surging wave came through, and I paddled out to him pretty quickly. He kept saying ‘I thought I was going to die’.”

Some older members of the club later said they could see the situation unfolding and were critical of Scotland’s decision to wait so long before paddling out to the child. He concedes he left it too long, but considers it a learning opportunity.

“That was a very bad, close rescue that could have gone badly wrong,” he says. “I don’t want to be in that position again.”

This season will probably be Scotland’s last summer as a paid lifeguard. But he intends to continue volunteering at his local club well into old age.

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“My hope is that once I’m 60 or 70, I can be one of those older guys on the beach in saggy Speedos and leathery tan.”

Scotland imagines watching a rescue unfolding as the new generation of young lifesavers who have come after him take to the water. And he will relax knowing “they’ve got this” and he won’t need to get involved.

Then his work might finally be done.