Tag Archives: Royal National Park

A Riot of Kookaburras and Cerulean Seas – No 40 Jibbon (4 January 2015)

 

The strange summer continues as I’ve had to skip another (and hopefully the last) of the Hawkesbury beaches which can only be reached from the water. I will visit number 39, Hungry Beach, along with numbers 35 (Gunyah – Brooklyn) and 37 (Hallets) in due course.

***

I got up this morning and didn’t dawdle. I was going to the beach without delay.

I catch the bus to the Queen Victoria Building and the train from Town Hall Station to Cronulla Station and, from there, walk down to the ferry wharf. A riot of kookaburras are laughing their heads off in an oversize gum tree. The sun is hot. The air is steamy. A ferry’s worth of passengers await the 12:00 pm crossing.

With the arrival of the New Year my mind has finally turned fully toward my travel plans; my big bicycle ride begins in April with a hit out around Australia for a few weeks before moving to Europe in late May. I feel like I’ve opened myself to a traveller’s life and a traveller’s experiences even while still in Sydney.

On Friday afternoon I spent some time with Australian bicycle tourist and blogger Matthew Harris having drinks and talking travel – our catch up the result of good fortune and the internets.  In the evening while Jonathan Bradley and I had dinner we fell into conversation with Carla and Boris, recently arrived holidaymakers from Germany. (I wrote a thing about the day on my bicycling blog.)

Now here it is Sunday and I’m seated in the bow of the Bundeena Ferry surrounded by people speaking many different languages in many different accents. Opposite me two women of a certain age are chatting, they are wearing beach moo-moos and sun hats, gold jewelry compliments fresh manicures. What language are they speaking? Something Eastern European. At times it sounds German: und, nicht – but at other times it doesn’t sound like German at all. I am reminded I know nothing of Eastern European languages; I’m so ignorant I can’t even guess whether they are speaking a German dialect or Hungarian or Romanian.

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The water is cerulean, shimmering and beautiful. As we near the pier I can see both Hordern and Gunyah are crowded and many passengers await the return journey. Disembarking I am greeted by more laughing kookaburras; I never tire of that sound.

Jibbon is about a 15 minute walk from the ferry wharf. It’s 750 metres of curving beach stretching to a bush-covered headland which is part of Royal National Park and home to some Aboriginal carvings. A flotilla of pleasure craft are moored mostly at the eastern end of the beach while sun bathers and cricket players favour the western end. I find a patch of shade near the midway point. I sit and I write until a swim beckons.

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The water is cool but inviting and perfectly clear.

A dickhead arrives in his big motor boat, he is alone and middle-aged. He swims then sits in the sun with one of the worst radio stations in Sydney cranking from his sound system. “How’s the midlife crisis going?!” I shout but he can’t hear me over the doof-doof pouring from his speakers and making the water pulse with the bass. (Okay that didn’t happen – the shouting, the bass.)

The dickhead and his boat - I'll leave it to you to imagine the music.
The dickhead and his boat – I’ll leave it to you to imagine the music.

I sit on the beach trying to ignore the asshole and feel the sun and wind dry the sea on my skin into a fine dusting, a slight crust, of salt. I will enjoy feeling this on my skin the rest of the day and will sort of hate washing it off this evening.

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Jibbon is 30 kilometres (19 miles) from Five Dock. It’s in the Sutherland Shire Local Government Area, Heathcote State Electorate (Lee Evans, Liberal) and Cunningham Federal Division (Sharon Bird, Labor).

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It seems they may have forgotten this plaque.

 

 

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Is this heaven? No, it’s Bundeena – No 38 Horderns (21 December 2014)

Horderns Beach from the ferry landing.
Horderns Beach from the ferry landing.

This summer’s beaches have created challenges.

I should have begun with No 35 Gunyah (Brooklyn) – up on the Hawkesbury – but it can only be reached from the water so I need my mate and his boat at a time that works for us both and the weather is amenable. I broke my rules and skipped to No 36 Gunyah (Bundeena); No 37 is Halletts – another Hawkesbury beach with water access only – has been added to the boating list. Which brings us back to Bundeena for No 38, Horderns.

I’ve failed to find the connection but I presume Horderns Beach is associated with the Hordern Family – the 19th and 20th century retailing dynasty. They of the now defunct and demolished Anthony Hordern & Sons – once the world’s largest department store (on the site of what is now World Square); also, of course, the Pavilion, the Fountain (at the corner of Pyrmont St and Pyrmont Bridge Rd) and a scattering of heritage listed homes.

**

An American work colleague of mine, Joe, has taken an interest in this blog – which is lovely – he lives in Cronulla and his mother is visiting from wintery Michigan. I’ve taken the train to Cronulla, where we will meet and catch the ferry across Port Hacking to Bundeena.

Awaiting their arrival at Grind I spot a kid who couldn’t have been more of a stereotype if he tried: about 12-years old with sun-bleached, salt-sculptured nearly shoulder-length hair; his skin was golden, his eyes were blue; he strode barefoot on the hot bitumen like he’d never worn shoes. When he finished helping him mum and he rolled past on his skateboard it was to a soundtrack of Forever Young (in my head).

Joe is a big – as in tall and athletic – gregarious guy. He’s a genuinely nice fellow, interested in others and always smiling. I like that Joe, unlike a lot of the other Americans who come to work for the Australian Baseball League, determined to live near the beach, had chosen Cronulla and, once there, had thrown himself into life in the community and made a lot of local friends. His mother, Bianca – not surprisingly is equally outgoing with a big exiled Noo Yawka personality (life has taken her from the Big Apple to upstate New York then west to Michigan following her husband’s academic career – but it’s clear that “New Yorker” is very much a key part of her identity).

Horderns Beach from the Bundeena Ferry
Horderns Beach from the Bundeena Ferry

On the ferry Bianca regales us (and perhaps embarrasses Joe) with stories of her son, her daughter, her husband and life in Michigan. Once in Bundeena we wander up the hill to the RSL for lunch – I again have the fish and chips and they are, again, excellent. The RSL is exactly as it was two weeks ago … same Santa decorations and tinsel and baubles, but now they’ve added a Christmas tree beneath the plastic eternal flame.

Then we go to the beach. It is a good, if not perfect, beach day: hot in the sun but with a cooling breeze.

It’s busy but not chockers. There are family groups enjoying picnics and barbeques in the shade of the fig trees while others have erected tents and umbrellas on the hot exposed sand. The usual multicultural colourwheel of Sydneysiders are here: a Muslim family getting their charcoal grill going, a group of Asian students engaging is a supersoaker battle royale, European backpackers, and a ramshackle mix of mongrel Whitefella Australians.

Hordern is a long – 200 or 300 metres – shallow curve of sand stretching west from the ferry wharf. The eastern end, where we set up, is separated from the town centre of Bundeena by a park. Along the rest, houses, lovely enviable houses, face Port Hacking and Cronulla beyond with only the beach and scrubby dune between porches and the beach.

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We swim. The water is shallow and clear; it has warm pockets and cool ones; the breeze blows goosebumps onto my wet, exposed skin. Bianca speaks of snow drifts and compares Bundeena favourably with heaven.

I sit on the sand warming in the sun when my friend Jim arrives and we join the others back in the water. Bianca tells a tale of bringing baby Joe home for the first time just after a blizzard in Syracuse – “Remember that Joe?” she asks and Joe smiles that smile of resignation to a parent’s repetitive joke.

When we’ve been in long enough Joe and Bianca move on to Gunyah while Jim and I retreat to the RSL – I’m becoming a regular.

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***

Look, it was a nice visit but returning to the same suburb so soon (and knowing that the final beach in the Bundeena triptych – Jibbon- is just around the corner) took a little of the excitement and adventure out of the day. Still, it was lovely. It was Sunday, the sun was shining warmly, the water was mostly pleasant … any complaints would be frivolous.

 

 

Horderns Beach is 30 km (19 miles) from home (via the shortest route to Cronulla and the ferry). It’s in the Sutherland Shire Local Government Area, Heathcote State Electorate (Lee Evans, Liberal) and Cunningham Federal Division (Sharon Bird, Labor).

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