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| A Dumper |
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| The view of Pittwater from Church Point |
Australia is surrounded by water, which makes it an island, but there is so much interior that living near the water, or with a view of it, is both sought after and expensive. Of course a person could buy a cheaper property overlooking water on some barren southern cliff but, in general, the most sought after water views are near cities or coastal towns.
There are plenty of barren and inhospitable beaches on an island continent whose mainland circumference measures almost thirty thousand kilometres. This measurement does not include Tasmania or the many islands that make up Australian territory.
One thing they all have in common are sharks. Of course there are sharks in every ocean save, I believe, the Mediterranean, which has smaller, mostly harmless sharks. Nonetheless in Australia few people are taken per year and this is because most know where and where not to swim. When I say few, I mean at least ten to twelve, and to those poor souls the statistics are meaningless.
My parents taught me that swimming inside the breaker line meant that you were less likely to be taken by a shark. Sadly I'm shortsighted and every large cluster of seaweed was mistaken for a Kim-eating shark. To this day, though, I have all my limbs. Waves disturbed me almost as much as sharks. Australian children learn how to be 'dumped'. How often did I emerge from the water with a crotch full of sand? Plenty.
It's quite embarrassing having your swimsuit hanging between you thighs laden with wet sand. You try to extricate it hiding your lower half under the water but its not easy. Chances are another wave will come along and force you face first in the water. It's all part of growing up at the beach but it doesn't seem to happen as much when you grow older. In my case it's simply because I hate getting my hair wet and having to wash it afterwards.
My first experience of the surf was of being walked towards a breaker on the shoulders of my not very tall father as he jovially assured me he would let no harm come to me. The approaching wave was taller than both of us put together and I quickly formulated that it would break over the top of us. I freaked out and now can't remember the outcome
This lovely, fatherly attempt to help initiate me to surf has stayed with me all these years and had the opposite long term effect to giving me confidence. Bless his heart though for trying. Nonetheless I was soon confronting waves and have since done my share of diving under a curler to avoid a dumping.
There's nothing like the thrill and terror of seeing a dumper, a wave that curls from the top and begins to form a cylinder within. There is but one thing to do and that is dive and hit the sand, lay flat and wait for it to thunder down, over and past you. Often however, if big enough, it will pick you up from the bottom and take you with it, rolling you around like a dead fish so that you don't know which way is up when it starts to subside and you can try and surface for air.
Describing this scene is like reliving it all over again. You never forget the experience but you will still return to the sea as if the primeval part of your brain draws you there to better, simpler times that are hidden deep inside your brain's inner cortex.
When I see an expanse of blue water it is as if my soul, which has gone into hibernation from the sheer repetition of the everyday, wakes up and thinks heaven is in sight to release it from its physical confines. It really does feel like that. Something deep within me stirs and feels the hope and possibilities I am missing these days.
While I love the beach, not all are equal. In its vast circumference Australia has only a small percentage of really good swimming beaches. Some of the reasons for this are the quality of the sand and water but for others, no matter how perfect the swimming possibilities, you only venture in at your peril.
Above the Tropic of Capricorn exist crocodiles and, in the summer, deadly Box jellyfish. The stings of this creature are so painful they are likely to kill you before the venom. Those few who have survived them have the scars to show for it. The long, stinger covered tendrils leave dark, permanent welts all along the lines where they have touched the skin.
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| Scars left by the tentacles stingers of the Box jellyfish |
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| Box Jellyfish |
The islands of the Great Barrier Reef are where people swim, scuba and snorkel and are supposedly free of stingers. This is because the jellyfish breed in river estuaries and remain close to shore.
Sea snakes don't seem to kill anyone even though they are capable of it. They are a gentler variety than their land based cousins and don't attack. Another danger in the ocean is the Manta Ray with its venomous tail spike but this is only a defense mechanism. The only death I have ever heard of from one of these gentle giants is the tragic one of Steve Irwin. The great environmentalist and exuberant, infectious character was killed by one. It was almost a fitting end for the great man as a warrior for nature to be speared in the heart. I almost see the hand of God in his ending. There was no surer way to ensure his work would never be forgotten and its effects continue long afterwards.
But back to beaches. I once lived in Melbourne on Port Phillip Bay in a bay side suburb. The water was still and shallow and I needed shoes to wade into its tepid water. In my mind it wasn't water at all. My husband and I went to the coastal beaches near Portsea, the so-called back beaches. These were not attractive like those in Sydney and look positively dangerous. We never went back.
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| A Back Beach of the Mornington Pensinsula south of Melbourne, Australia |
I now live in Brisbane which, to my horror, when I arrived, I discovered had no surf beaches. I was so eager to get out of Perth I didn't care. The surf beaches lie an hour to the north and to the south. The southern Gold Coast boasts the most famous beaches in Australia. I think they are inferior to Sydney's, but they are a tourist haven. The beaches are long, unbroken by headlands and surrounded by skyscrapers. People drown there every summer because foreign tourists simply can't read the sea. It looks tranquil but there are rips, undertows and sandbanks. The life savers do their absolute best or the numbers would be much higher.
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| The Gold Coast |
Some people prefer the more natural beaches of Noosa and the ones on the sea side of Fraser Island. Those around Noosa, apart from the one of Noosa town itself that is not a surf beach, are hard to get to without a four wheel drive.
There are also great beaches off Stradbroke Island that lies off Brisbane. Unfortunately it is a forty minute ferry trip from the mainland and you may need to travel up to an hour to get to the ferry depending on where you live in Brisbane.
When we lived in Perth we were at first excited at the sight of the white sand beaches and surf. Sitting upon one just before midday one Saturday we saw people begin to vacate the beach and looked at one another puzzled. Then it happened. A breeze picked up and became stronger. The sea became choppy and sand began to pick up. We left. We had experienced the famous Fremantle Doctor, the breeze that comes in every afternoon and makes the beach impossible to enjoy. Our earlier idea of an evening beach barbeque went out the door.
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| Myself, son Asher and Bruno on a bleak winter's day at City Beach, Perth, WA |
In the afternoon the ocean becomes a glassy mirror as the sun begins its journey down to the horizon. I was very glad not to have a view of this from our house, which was within a kilometer of the beach. It explained why, up until then, the nineteen eighties, Perth had no really prestige houses with an ocean view north of Cottesloe. Things changed while we were there, but I wouldn't have paid to look at that hot, silver strip. The ocean is on the West and facing in that direction in Perth is hot. The word humidity hasn't made its way to that city yet and never will. Hot means very hot and dry. It is also very cold in winter.
My parents moved to Perth against my advice, stayed two years and moved south to the beach holiday town of Dunsborough. This is where the West's beaches come into their own. Dunsborough is situated on Geographe Bay. The bay faces North West and is protected from winds at its Southern tip by Cape Naturaliste. The sand is white, the water blue and there are no waves. The water is shallow then deepens gradually. Sharks don't bother coming in to such warm water without enough depth. It is absolutely ideal for families and those of us who have been terrorised by big waves.
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| The gorgeous beach at Dunsborough, WA on Geographe Bay |
The only problem here are small and vicious little stingers that come when the water flows from certain directions at swimming times of the year. They can vary in size annually as well and the sting can range from an irritation to painful as my son discovered one year when he was the first in the water and ran out covered in painful welts.
Further around from Dunsborough come the little cove beaches that are deeper and with some chop. These are in secluded and protected headlands and grass and trees line the the area down to the sand. Moving a little further south you come to Margaret River and Yellingup beaches. These are famous surf spots. Yellingup is surrounded by a steep hill on which perch the holiday homes of Perth's wealthy. You can't call it a pretty place but the beach is great. There is major surf area and a lovely protected lagoon on one side for swimmers.
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| Lagoon at Yellingup Beach, WA |
I am fond of this southern part of Western Australia now that I don't have to live in there. It's partly because my parent's remaining years together were spent there and partly because it has a lovely atmosphere. I shall go back as I must to place my mother's ashes with my father's. His lie in the memorial garden of the church he helped design and build - Our Lady of the Southern Cross. That's another very good reason I have great fondness for the place. It really is a little slice of heaven.
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