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My Quest to Visit Every Sydney Beach

The Australian beach. A social icon. With 85 per cent of us living by the coast, for many it represents a way of life. A part of our natio...

Thursday, January 31, 2019

La Perouse (Cruwee Cove, Congwong, Little Congong, Frenchmans Bay North and South Beaches)

Cruwee Cove Beach
From the pink rock pools of Cruwee Cove Beach perched over a deep sea, along the coastal Henry Head Track and down through the trees and bushland, to the two Congwong beaches where light glistens off the ocean like stars in a turquoise sky, these have to be the most beautiful beaches I’ve visited. Oases in isolated coves, protected from the outside world, the area remains untouched, untainted by development, industry and the hustle and bustle of the surrounding Sydney city life. Located in La Perouse, the only Sydney suburb where Aboriginal people have kept their territory from European settlement until today, one is transported back 7,500 years to a natural environment of pre-colonial times. 

It was at this time that sea levels stabilised to form today’s coast for the original owners of the land, the Kameygal. With an abundance of fresh water supplies, fish, and places of natural shelter, the area was ideal for sustained inhabitancy. The Aboriginal people have maintained an unbroken connection. 
















But as one walks back up 
the sandy path from Congwong Beach onto the asphalt road, populated car park, and past the monuments, to look out over Frenchmans beach to Port Botany on the horizon, one is reminded of their struggle to do so against a European invasion and imposed modernity.

Indeed, the decision to name La Perouse after the French explorer itself is symbolic of the historic denial of the original indigenous occuparants as owners of the land. Landing on January 26, 1788, passing through on a scientific expedition, La Perouse and his crew stayed in the area for a mere six weeks. 

Congwong Beach

At the exact same time Captain Arthur Phillip and the First Fleet were pulling into Port Jackson to form the first British settlement. Just missing the French, eight days earlier they too had landed in Botany Bay, but finding it unhealthy for settlement due to the swampiness of the area  had moved on to find something more suitable.

Over the next century as the British settlement expanded and Sydney urbanised, Aboriginal camps would come to be scrutinised as a nuisance to white society, increasingly vulnerable to closure. However, with the request of five Aboriginal men and their families honoured by Parliament in 1882, their camps were allowed to stay in La Perouse, justified in that they were economically viable.

Soon the population in the area began to grow as the fishing sites attracted Aborigines from the South Coast seeking employment. This resulted in the decision by the Aborigines Protection Board in 1885 to officially declare seven acres of land at La Perouse a ‘Reserve for the Use of Aborigines' - the only one in Sydney. 

Reserves like these throughout New South Wales were designed to effectively segregate Aboriginal people from white Australia. In La Perouse the Aboriginal people were tied to the reserve through a dependency on government rations and were literally locked in by a fence enclosing the reserve.

This was done to ‘protect’ them from the white community, but its very isolation and absence of white settlement made the area attractive to city residents for weekend day trips. By the turn of the century the Aboriginal residents were participating in the tourist industry selling souvenir boomerangs, woven baskets and shells, while ‘snake men’ would perform in the snake pit. 




George Cann Sr., Snake Handler. Source: https://www.valeriebarrow.com/?p=1360

In 1900 concerns about the interaction between Aboriginal people and white tourists led to a decision by the Aborigines Protection Board to relocate the reserve to the South Coast. But despite ration supplies being phased out, the people refused to move on, and eventually the Board gave in keeping the reserve open.

This
was the first of many failed attempts throughout the 20th century to close the reserve. Each time an emboldened people –fighting for their historical right to live on the land - refused to leave. In 1988 their claim to ownership was finally recognised when the La Perouse Local Aboriginal Land Council was given deeds to the reserve.

La Perouse remains a significant site for many Aboriginal people – symbolic of the people’s continuing connection to their land in the face of colonial invasion. In 1988, after around 40,000 bicentenary protesters from around Australia marched in Sydney from Redfern Oval to Hyde Park, many gathered at La Perouse to both mourn 200 years of violence but also celebrate survival and new beginnings. Funeral wreaths were thrown into the water, fires burned in the dark, and people danced into sunrise.

Survival Day Ceremony

Each year around this time members of the Aboriginal community gather at La Perouse in the celebrattion of their cultural continuity - inviting all to join in. As I watch the cermonial smoke loft up and over the luminescent waters I’m grateful  after everything they’re still prepared to do so.

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For a more detailed history of La Perouse visit The Dictionary of Sydney

Monday, January 14, 2019

Lady Robinsons Beach (Kyeemagh, Brighton Le Sands, Ramsgate, Monterey) & Dolls Point


I’ve started making my way further out, past the airport and into unfamiliar territory. Lady Robinsons Beach on the western shores of Botany Bay stretches between the mouths of the Cooks and Georges rivers. Sydney’s largest beach, it consists of several smaller ones from Kyeemagh in the north through Brighton Le-Sands, Monterey, Ramsgate and extending round the corner at Dolls Point. 

I’ve always known vaguely about it but never thought to visit for a swim.  It’s not that it’s far away. A 20 minute drive straight down the M1, this is actually one of the easier beaches for me to reach. I’ve passed through here a bunch of times on trips down the coast or over to Rockdale for a reminder of my heritage with a Macedonian pastry called burek. But stuck in the honking traffic of The Grand Parade looking across a shore littered with coke cans and Macca’s straws I’ve never found it that appealing. Planes departing over an industrial shipping port are not the view you expect from a Sydney beach. It’s far from the picturesque ocean waves crashing onto golden shores or the cityscape viewed from harbour coves. 

This time I decided to stop and easily found a place in one of the many ample car parks. At Kyeemagh across the scorching sands I bounced through a maze of tents and beach umbrellas. I cooled off with a splash in the gentle shallow waters of the netted baths. Lazing in the afternoon sun even the odd passing plane couldn’t ruin the tranquil mood. 

But as I made my way south to Brighton Le Sands I was in for something else. Busy and noisy, right on the main road, I had made it to the real party. Cars zoomed past busy restaurants and bars, Nicki Minaj thumping. Speed boats raced across the water dragging wake surfers behind them. Wind surfers glided along the horizon, kite surfers launching out and above them.

Most conspicuously though on jet skis bearded, buff dudes with gold chains and fluro-coloured board shorts were flexing to each other. My distant wog cousins, this could easily have been me in another life. I was far from the Eastern Suburbs beaches and their blonde blue-eyed locals.

Rather this area hosts large Southern European and Lebanese communities and an easy access down the M5 from Western Sydney attracts visitors from the further diverse communities out that way. 

With them they bring their delicious culinary delightsAs you make your way further down the Lady Robinsons promenade the scents of roasting lambs and grilling freshly caught fish waft over from large families barbecuing under the pines behind in Cooks Park. 

Dolls Point
By the time I made it to the more peaceful and family-oriented Dolls Point, a large section of sand curving outwards into the Georges River mouth, I could no longer take such tantalisation. A sprint to my car and I was soon back in Brighton spoilt for choice with Greek spots. A wolfed down haloumi gyros and I was on my way home detouring via Rockdale for burek.
Burek
Total Count: 21/160

A special thanks to Rena Zheng accompanying me on this one. All photos (except the Dolls Point and burek ones) belong to her copyright 2019. You can view her further photography work here






Thursday, January 3, 2019

Christmas Day at Watsons Bay (Gibsons Beach, Wharf Beach, Wharf Beach South, Camp Cove, Lady Bay Beach)


Watsons Bay
The sun peers down through a cloudless sky. The cityscape peeks through distant heads. On they watch as I delicately lower myself off the pontoon to immerse myself in the harbour baths, all save an outreached arm beer in hand. At 27 degrees, it’s the first pleasant day in a week or so and from recent memory the first non-gloomy Christmas. I raise my bottle in salute to the holiday miracle.

An Australian Christmas - prawns, barbeques, sunburnt backs, and surfing Santas - not spent at the beach it just doesn’t feel right.

This year I’m at my auntie’s for lunch on her newly furbished deck right on Gibson’s Beach by Watsons Bay. A more secluded spot just north of the Bondi swarm, families laze around on the white sands and feast on picnics in the shady reserve. 

Sea, land, and air, our own feast has all the major terrains covered: mustard-sauced salmon, honey-glazed ham, and roast Turkey. Vegetarian options too. I guzzle down some beetroot and feta salad mixed with barley couscous, stuff myself with Turkey stuffing, and follow with a plate of the crowd-favourite mashed potatoes (my addition to the buffet).

The hours stretch on and my belly stretches over my feet. I sink further and further into the back of my chair into a distant reality, only eventually drawn back to the table from a whiff of Pavlova paired with Christmas pudding. Call me un-Australian but I can’t stand the stuff. Knowing it’ll be forced on me I need to get out.

Gibson's Beach
So I find some inner strength and quietly slip away. First another quick splash in Gibson’s Beach and a couple more by the ferry wharf in the Watson’s Bay shore and I’m off to see what else awaits. Along Marine Parade past the waterfront restaurants and into the residential backstreets, I follow the trail of bathers dripping from recent swims to Camp Cove sheltered away on the backyards of houses.  Yellows gradually blend to green to blue: sun-bleached sands, gentle shores, and a deep harbour centre.



Camp Cove

My auntie later begs me to leave it out of the blog not to spoil her hidden gem.  Yet it’s already been discovered by the Christmas crowds. Sands are bathed on by European backpackers and photos are snapped by Asian tourists on the paths above.  All the while Sydneysiders remind themselves how lucky they are with frequent refreshing dips. A site like this it’s just a matter of time before someone’s let the word out. 

Into the water and I spot Obelisk Beach hiding across the harbour. I wonder whether I’d have the stamina to swim on over but a few strokes in and an aching belly is suggesting otherwise.  Full of food if I don’t sink first it’s only a matter of time before the sharks sniff me out for their own Christmas feast. 

So I escape their prowl back to shore where I wander over to the South Head Trail for views back on the bay and to the north to Dobroyd Head and Manly out in the distance. A short stroll and I’m at Lady Bay Beach with a mixture of nudes and clothes. Concrete stairs built into the rocks shade afternoon nappers. I join them between two resting boulders in and out of a sleepy daze.
Lady Bay Beach
The sun has made some decent progress on its trip across the sky. I make my way back for leftovers.

Total Count: 19/152