14 Jun Surf Wounds & Saltwater Medicine: A Field Guide to Sting, Chafe and Surf-Related Blisters

By Someone Who’s Bled for the Waves and Lived to Wax Another Day

Let’s set the scene.

You’re gliding into a glassy right-hander, sun low, skin bronzed, vibes high. You’re halfway through what feels like your best session in months. Then, like a villain creeping in from the shadows, comes that sudden sting. A raw rub. A slow burn. A betrayal of fabric, friction, and wax.

Congratulations. You’ve entered the gritty, unsung underworld of surf rash.

Yes, it’s time we talk about nipple chafe and boardshort bum burn, those sneaky, session-sabotaging ailments that no one brags about on Instagram. They’re the unsexy side of surfing. The inconvenient truth behind those dreamy Bali barrels. But fear not, fellow wax junkie. In this field manual, we expose the chafe, honor the survivors, and teach you how to outwit your own boardshorts or surf suit.

Planning your surf escape? Join us at Wave House Surf Camp in Bali, where the waves are warm, and our rashguards are tight in all the right ways.

Chapter One: The Chafing Begins

Surf rash doesn’t discriminate. It strikes the beginner, the pro, the intermediate trying to rip. Whether you’re in boardies, a bikini, or flexing in a tank top like a hopeful Baywatch extra, all it takes is a little salt, a little rub, and a whole lotta motion.

The two most notorious enemies:

• Nipple/Sternum Chafe: Caused by repetitive rubbing of a salty, wet rashguard (or worse, no rashguard) against your poor, innocent chest buds. The result? A red-ringed, raw badge of pain that makes even a soft cotton t-shirt feel like sandpaper dipped in chili oil.
• Boardshort & Bum Burn: That sneaky abrasion on your inner thighs or butt crack where your boardies bunched, twisted, or just plain decided to betray you. Feels like someone gave your skin a kiss from a cheese grater.

Chapter Two: Prevention – The Gospel According to Zinc and Lycra

You don’t bring a foamie to Uluwatu, and you sure as hell don’t bring your bare chest to a six-hour surf session.

Here’s how to armor up:

• The Rashguard Renaissance: Tight is right. Go for a snug, surf-specific rashguard, not your roommate’s old swim tee. Bonus points for long sleeves and boardshort connectors. It’s the medieval armor of surf rash.
• Anti-Chafe Balms: Before your session, rub on a layer of Body Glide, Surfgrease, or even plain old Vaseline. Think of it as wax for your skin: friction-fighting and session-saving.
• Boardshort Fit Check: If your trunks have netting, velcro flys, or that weird plastic lining—set them on fire. Look for four-way stretch, soft seams, and a waistband that won’t ride up like your insecurities.
• Compression Shorts: Want to surf like a gladiator? Wear compression shorts underneath your boardies. It’s not sexy, but neither is bleeding from your thighs.

Chapter Three: Damage Control – How to Heal Like a Tropical Medic

So the rash got you. You were cocky. You paddled out shirtless because the sunrise made you feel like Poseidon. Now you’re walking like a cowboy with a broken heart.

Here’s how to heal:

• Shower Smart: You’ll scream. It’s part of the ritual. Let the saltwater rinse sting away your sins, then gently cleanse with non-scented soap. No loofahs. You’re not exfoliating, you’re surviving.
• Aloe, Baby: Apply fresh aloe vera if you’ve got the plant. If not, go for a pure aloe gel (no green dye nonsense). Nature’s balm for wave warriors.
• Antiseptic Creams & Liquid Bandage: Betadine, New Skin, or your trusty Neosporin. You’re treating raw skin, not frosting a cupcake. The liquid bandage will help waterproof, seal the blister and add a protective layer.
• Loose Clothing Only: Let it breathe. Walk around in a sarong, linen clothing or better yet, your birthday suit if your accommodation allows for it.

P.S. All of this is easier to survive if you’re crashing somewhere with poolside beanbags, cold coconuts, and other salty comrades.

Chapter Four: The Humble Brag

You’ll be tempted to hide it. But surf rash, like all battle wounds, deserves recognition. A discreet wince when sitting down. A self-deprecating joke about your “salt burns.” These are your stripes.

Bonus: You now belong to a global brotherhood/sisterhood of wave warriors who have all bled for the love of the ride. Welcome to the club. We have zinc, stitches, and great stories.

Final Notes from Your Salty Medic

Surf rash is a rite of passage, part initiation, part warning label. It’s the ocean’s way of saying: You’re playing in my house now, so dress accordingly.

So next time you suit up, remember:
Protect the nips. Respect the thighs. Honor the rashguard. And if you do get torched, heal well, surf again, and laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

Because pain is temporary. But stories of nipple carnage? Eternal.

Need a place to surf, chafe, heal, repeat?
Check out Wave House Surf Camp Bali—surf lessons, epic stays, and enough zinc to protect an army.