Meet The Board – Sue Posted on: 04 November 2025

Finding Strength, Spirit, and a Splash of Pink on the Water

I still remember the day I noticed a small indentation in my breast — one of those blink-and-you’ll-miss-it things you almost talk yourself out of worrying about. It was 2012, and life was busy. I was working full-time, raising three boys — my youngest still in primary school — and caring for my mum, who was then battling metastatic breast cancer.

To be honest, I’m usually the sort of person who puts things off when it comes to myself — there’s always something more urgent to do. But that morning, something told me to make a doctor’s appointment. Within an hour, I was sitting in the clinic, and within days, I heard the words that turn your world upside down: breast cancer.

The next months were a blur of treatment, tests, and determination. My mum passed away just six weeks after I finished my last round, and that period will forever be etched in my heart — one chapter closing as another began.

Fast forward to October 2015. I’d been hearing about this thing called dragon boating for a while, but to be honest, I loved my sleep-ins far too much to get up early for anything that involved water and exercise. Still, one morning, something shifted. I turned up — not knowing a single person — just to see what it was all about.

When I climbed into that boat, I noticed two women who looked close to 80, chatting away and laughing like schoolgirls. I thought to myself, if they can do it, I can do it. By the end of the session, I could barely lift my arms, but I was absolutely hooked. The laughter, the teamwork, and the sheer joy of being on the water pulled me in from that very first paddle.

Joining Dragons Abreast Brisbane opened up a whole new world for me. I found a community that just “got it” — people who understood what it means to come through something life-changing and still choose joy, connection, and a bit of chaos on the water.

A few years later, health issues meant I couldn’t paddle the way I used to. But instead of stepping back, I stepped up — into coaching. I like to joke that if I can’t paddle, I can still yell at the people who can! But truthfully, coaching gave me purpose again. It became my way of helping others rebuild confidence and strength, one stroke at a time.

Since then, I’ve become a Level 1 Coach, and I now serve as Finance Director and Public Officer for Dragons Abreast Australia. I’ve helped coordinate teams for international festivals — in Florence, New Zealand, and soon in France — and worked alongside some truly incredible people. Between balancing budgets, planning events, and keeping everyone in rhythm (both on and off the water), it’s been a wild, wonderful ride.

These days, I paddle and coach with the Redlands Sea Dragons, and I can honestly say dragon boating has made me fitter, happier, and more fulfilled than I was ten years ago. To me, it’s not just a sport — it’s therapy with a paddle. You don’t always have to talk about what you’ve been through; sometimes you just paddle beside someone who understands, and somehow that’s enough.

This past June 2025 was something truly special. I joined Dragons Abreast Australia composite crews for two unforgettable international adventures — first, the Vogalonga in Venice, and then the 30th Anniversary of “Abreast In A Boat” in Vancouver.

The Vogalonga was pure chaos on water — thousands of boats of every size and shape filling the canals of Venice in a spectacular, joyful, and slightly mad celebration of paddling. There were gondolas, kayaks, dragon boats, and the occasional confused tourist — all moving together through one of the most beautiful cities in the world. It was challenging, hilarious, and completely unforgettable.

Then came Vancouver — an emotional and extraordinary celebration at the birthplace of breast cancer dragon boating. Paddling in a full pink lane with 34 breast cancer survivor crews, side by side across nine lanes, in the heart of the city — and with Dr. Don McKenzie himself watching on — was something I’ll never forget. The sound of the drums, the splash of the paddles, and the sea of pink were overwhelming in the best possible way. It was a reminder of how far this movement has come — and how powerful it is when survivors unite on the water.

Standing among hundreds of paddlers in pink, surrounded by laughter and tears of joy, I felt an incredible sense of connection — to everyone who has ever picked up a paddle, and to every story that brought us there.

Life after breast cancer isn’t just about surviving — it’s about thriving, laughing, and occasionally getting splashed in the face when the timing’s off. I’ve found my rhythm on the water, surrounded by people who lift each other up with every stroke.

And if you see me out there, I’ll probably be the one in the coach’s seat — smiling proudly, cheering my team on, and reminding everyone that coffee after training is just as important as the training itself.