Smedley's, Little Manly, Quarantine, Store, Collins Flat

“You have arrived at your destination,” the nice lady inside Google Maps informs me.

Cheers love but this isn’t where I wanted to go. I typed in Smedley's beach, a small cove in North Harbour, Manly. I’m in Manly for sure but I don’t see any beach. Just apartment blocks to either side of me and Addison Road stretching out in front. 

I do spot a small reserve at the end of the road though: ‘Smedleys Point’ a sign informs me. There’s a bench to rest at while enjoying harbour views. A gated fence blocks a drop down onto jagged rocks. But there’s no way to a beach.   

So, I follow the map back to the red pin where the beach is supposed to be. An apartment block’s drive way seems to be leading somewhere. 

The ocean’s blue horizon rises as I walk down. A fence appears. And there through the plants that line its rails I catch a glimpse of a path twisting down to the golden sands of what could only be Smedleys beach in all its glory.

The fence has a gate: an entrance to my heart’s desire. But hold on. Entry comes with a risk: 

Should I? I’m so close. I can just run down. The beach is public; once I make it I’m fine.  

No. Sigh. I better not. I promised my mum I’d keep this quest legal. I’ll have to leave Smedleys for another day. Back to the drawing board, I’ll find a way.

I’m still in Manly though with plenty of pristine beaches beckoning to be explored. I’ve heard Store Beach is especially beautiful. So, before I know it I’m back in the car and the sweet Google Maps mistress is leading me afar.

She takes me to North Head where I’m to park my car. An eighteen-minute walk from here and I’ll be at the beach. Okay. Not ideal. But whatever you say miss.

The view from North Head

Along a neglected track tightly jammed in alongside the road, dust blows over me as cars zoom past.
“Turn left here,” Google Maps suddenly blurts out. Left? You mean through that hole cut into the wire fence? Okay, whatever you say.

A jagged wire peels along my back as I climb through. I ignore the pain and focus on my task at hand. Before me twisting off through thick bushland is a sandy path that promises a beach.

Pieces of red torn cloth tied to trees ensure me I’m going the right way. I carefully avoid a minefield of branches and shattered glass - bottles from last night’s party. I probably should have worn shoes for this.

Venturing on down the hill the cloth pieces are disappearing. Multiple paths are slithering through the bushes in all directions. I ask Google Maps for help but she’s deciding to be quiet for once. I sweat nervously underneath the 30 degree heat.

Little Manly

With regret I must turn back. I don’t want to die out here. The blog’s not that worth it.  I’ll just have to be content today with a dip in the turquoise waters of Little Manly, a short drive away.

I pull up to park on the little hill over Little Manly’s cove and that’s when I see it - a beacon shining out to me – a kayak gliding across the horizon. 

Little Mamly

Without haste I’m back in my car and racing off to the nearest BCF to buy one for myself, the cheapest I can find, a nifty little inflatable number.

Then before I know it I’m back at Little Manly launching off and paddling through the calm waters, dodging ferries as I go. I turn right around the head to conquer the elusive Smedleys.

Tilers watch from the houses above as I pull into my own private beach. I fill up a bottle from an outside hose, pull out a sandwich from my waterproof pouch I picked up from BCF, and lie in the sun a while. I’ve made it.

But I don’t stay for long. I may as well visit a few other beaches while I’m here.

On to Store Beach to share the paradise-like shore with only a handful of others rocked up on their motor dinghies. The beach feels completely pristine, isolated, untouched. I try and find where the path I was on earlier comes out.  No hope.  

At Quarantine Beach I visit a little museum that tells of its history as a quarantine station for migrant ships arriving in Sydney with suspected contagious disease. Other beach goers arrive via shuttle from the road above carefully avoiding snakes and bandicoots, while more disembark at the ferry wharf. 

Quarantine Station + whales / CC By 3.0

Then finally at Collins Flat Beach I watch kids plunge from the famous Jump Rock before having a little snooze floating amongst surrounding sailboats. When I wake the sun is setting over the water westwards behind me. I paddle on back to beat the night.  

Total Beaches: 48/160