Coogee Beach

I spit out a mouthful of sand and disentangle seaweed from my hair. A wave has left me stranded on the shore. Wiping the salt from my eyes, I seek out imploringly for an apology, but it has already retreated behind Coogee’s flat horizon. Better not to chase after it, I pick myself up and walk to my towel, my head bowed down avoiding the eye contact of a group of nearby British backpackers giggling at me. I’ve never liked Coogee.  

And if its name is any indication, I’m not the only one. It’s derived from Koojah - a Dharug word spoken by the Aboriginal people who lived in the area before white settlement – which means ‘stinking place’.  Some say this is after the rotting seaweed that frequently washes up on shore, others after the surprise they leave in your ice cream at the Coogee Bay Hotel.

Either way I’ve always thought of it as a bit of a try-hard Bondi. The surf isn’t quite as good, the sand not quite as golden, the promenade not quite as grand. As a teenager I lived a ten-minute walk away but must have come here only a handful of times, preferring Gordon’s Bay around the corner.

But every beach has a silver lining, and Coogee’s has got to be its grand ocean pools. Spoiled for choice - five distinct spots all glimmering underneath the surrounding escarpments - I’m going to have to leave the sand behind for this one.

At Giles baths, under the archway and into a hidden world, moss green rocks peer through clear water. Grab on to boulders at the water’s edge underneath a waterfall of surging waves. Snorkel in the deep end for sights of majestic fish gliding beneath. Or just relax in the pool’s centre, basking in the fresh respite of the scorching sun.

Giles Baths

Ross Jones Memorial Pool gazes northwards from the opposite end of the beach. Situated under the iconic Coogee Surf Life Saving Club, two adjacent rectangular concrete pools tuck into a cliff face. Wall turrets project as if from a defensive medieval castle, fortifying swimmers from the crash of oncoming waves.

From these, cheeky children launch to land by leisurely swimmers, their parents dressed in matching rashies chasing after. Leather-tanned grandparents chuckle as they watch on from their camps on the surrounding rocks. At 3:30 pm the cries of the playing children begin to crescendo. An after-school rush means it’s time to move on.

Ross Jones Memorial Pool

Next up’s McIver’s, but they won’t let me in. Fair enough, it is the last remaining women’s only seawater baths in all of Australia. Going strong since 1886, I doubt that’ll change soon. Perched on a cliff face, well screened from the surrounding area, I can only imagine what goes on inside. It must be special though. From what I read the baths have long held significance for many women, all who enter greeted by magnificent ocean views and a respectful community. 

I find my own community further along at Wylie’s Baths in line at the kiosk for a frozen treat. From up above, on the timber boardwalk that hugs the cliff, we watch keen swimmers struggle against waves brought through by incoming tides. Warm sweat trickles down our brows in anticipation of our chocolate paddle pop sensation. A sticky affair, I’m soon washing off in the open ocean pool myself, remnants of chocolate dissolving into the azure waters.

Wylie's Baths

Ivor Swimming Pool

Drying off along the Coogee-Maroubra coastal path, past gums and rare coastal plant species, I reach my final destination. Ivor swimming pool, a small circular crater carved beneath the cliffs, is easy to miss. Don’t wander too far in search of it; lurking waves will pounce and drag you to their lair. A grim sign reminds of two who failed to heed such warnings.

I arrive just in time to float underneath the departing sun. A sky of oranges and pinks merges with the Pacific. A pair of affectionate dogs run laps around the pool’s edges, stopping to lick my toes that poke out invitingly.  I guess Coogee isn’t so bad. 

Total Beaches: 52/160