Georges River Baths (Jewfish Bay, Oately Pleasure Grounds, Carrs Point Baths)

Muddy sand engulfs my feet as I trudge towards the low-tide shallow water of Jewfish Bay Baths. With each step it becomes harder to free my feet from the sand’s eager grip, a hungry endeavour to swallow me whole into its vast belly beneath. A sulfuric stench of stomach fumes rises above in anticipation of the coming feast. Agile crabs heed the warning, scuttering away from the feeding zone. They mock me with their ease of movement, lightly gliding across the sand before disappearing into the murky water.

I should have known better. Much of the Georges River, the main tributary of Botany Bay, located in Sydney’s south and south-west, is deemed unsafe for swimming. Due to stormwater and sewage leaks the water here can be both toxic and contaminated with high concentrations of pathogenic microbes.

Sharks are also a problem, with deadly bull sharks known to travel as far up as Liverpool Weir, 45 kilometres from the sea. Although it’s been some time since an attack, there were a number of recorded fatalities throughout the 1930s and ‘40s when the river was cleaner and swimming here was much more common.

For this reason, as part of my quest, I’ve decided not to swim at many of the beaches that dot the middle and upper parts of the river all the way up towards Chipping Norton Lake in Sydney’s west. The lower part of the river, on the other hand, is supposedly safe, with pollutants here flushed out by tidal water movement, and a number of netted enclosures protecting swimmers from sharks.

Jewfish Bay is one of them, its mighty 320-metre shark-proof net protecting vast swimming baths, backed by a narrow beach and the lush vegetation of Oatley Park.  

Jewfish Bay

I wrestle here aginst the persistant clutches of the sand until a final determined leap launches me into the waist-high water. Keeping my feet off the seafloor, I paddle pooch-like from the peril, before clambering to safety up onto the bath’s pontoon, stranded in solitude in the middle of the bay.  I lie here blanketed in the warmth of the sun and the cicada-cum-cockatoo hum of the Australian bushland that looms over the bay.

A venture into this bush, through Oatley Park, will bring you up to the Oatley Castle – a remnant of Sydney’s alternate medieval past repurposed for barbeques and picnics. Further up and Websters Lookout provides views over the grand Georges River, pointing us south-eastwards towards our next destinations.

The Como Tidal Baths is the first of these, located across the river on its southern banks. While there’s not technically a beach here – unless you count the sliver of sand in one of its corners – I’m giving it an honourable mention as one of the few netted enclosures on the river.

The baths here offer cleaner access to the water than Jewfish Bay, with boardwalks on either side from which you can descend via ladders or dive straight in. Or, for those who still fear the odd pathogen lurking, a dip amongst chants of “Marco Polo” is also possible in the chlorine pool directly behind.  Afterwards, you can enjoy a meal at one of the riverside cafes before a pleasurable stroll through the aptly named Como Pleasure Grounds beneath palms, gums, and figs that arch over the water.

Equally pleasurable are the Oatley Pleasure Grounds back on the northern side of the river. Here, located at the bottom of a steep, meandering path, down a hill and through a tunnel of trees, you'll find the netted Oatley Bay Baths. At high tide the small swimming area provides for a refreshing swim, at low a place to wander longingly over the sandy bank in wait of the returning current.

A family of ducks greets me when I visit, waddling in sequence, one after the other, out of the water and up the concrete stairs, before spreading their wings to dry in the sun. Birds' songs call out to them from the trees above, intermittently breaking the stillness of the late afternoon bay.

Carrs Point Baths - the river’s final netted enclosure before reaching Botany Bay - is much more lively today. I’m greeted by traditional Greek tunes puppeteering a hand-linked audience dancing the circular Kalamatianos. Behind them stretches an Aegean Sea of people, mingling between carnival games and stalls of jewellery, candles, food, and decorations. A smoked-scented air of souvlaki, octopus, spanakopita, and halloumi pervades all over.

I’ve stumbled into the Greek Summer Festival. With the surrounding suburbs home to a large proportion of Sydney’s sizeable Greek community, the festival is held on the parklands here each year to showcase the people’s vibrant culture.

Greek Summer Ferstival by Carrs Point Baths

Joining in the celebration, I grab myself a haloumi gyros before squeezing my way through the crowds down to the shore. I blanket my towel between sets of beach chairs filled with elderly Mediterranean folk reclined luxuriously under the final spurts of the sun’s embrace. With the day getting on, I sneak in a final dip in the river, before returning to shore to watch festive fireworks blasting colour across a lilac-canvased sky. 

But I don’t stay long, distracted by skin starting to prickle, a burning sensation beginning to simmer, a reddening colour on the verge of bursting all over. The microbes are swarming, and I need to go home for a long, deep shower.

Total Beaches: 89/178

 

Pittwater's Southern Shore (Bothams Beach, Church Point Beach, Pittwater Road Beaches, Bayview Baths, Bayview Dog Park)

Today we venture to the majestic southern shore of Pittwater, peacefully secured an hour’s drive north from the hustle and bustle of the Sydney CBD. Our journey there takes us over the Harbour Bridge, through the North Shore’s suburban streets, and alongside the soaring trees on the edge of Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park. By Ingleside’s extensive lawns and mansions and down the twisting hills of Bayview we go – until, finally, we burst out onto paradise.

We’re welcomed by panoramic sights of towering vegetation over golden coastlines. They stretch before bobbing boats and yachts scattered in their hundreds atop an azure sea, extending all the way across the length of Pittwater to its mouth at Broken Bay.

Pittwater is Sydney’s northernmost open body of water - a tidal estuary often considered a bay or harbour. Bordering the tip of the Northern Beaches peninsula and Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park, it separates greater Sydney from the Central Coast. On its southern end, in the suburbs of Bayview and Church Point, seven beaches lie awaiting.

Starting from the west, Bothams Beach sits on McCarrs Creek underneath the sloping hillside. Access the 300-metre stretch of sand via steps down from McCarrs Creek Road through a thick bush of Grey Ironbarks and River Red and Spotted Gums. A spot on the shore awaits us amongst stored dinghies and fallen logs. Meditate here on the sound of wind rustling lightly in the branches over gently lapping water. When you’re ready, turn your eyes out over the crystal-clear creek sparkling in the sunshine. Give into seduction and submerge yourself deep down into divinity.

Bothams Beach

From here’s ideal to launch a kayak and paddle up the creek, darting through perched sail boats, to merge into Pittwater’s open sea. Church Point Beach welcomes us, resting around the corner. Here, footed sand prints swerve amongst tethered rowboats, motor dinghies, and an old corroding kayak, before disappearing across the seafloor out to Scotland Island.

Dark, amber-coloured rocks lead the way back up from Church Point’s shore towards the coastal fringe of land, where outstretched gums dominate over sprouting tufts of grass. We lie here in the shade engulfed by the sounds of afternoon chatter and an acoustic guitar trickling over from a nearby restaurant.

Church Point Beach

But let’s not diddle-daddle here entranced too long - three more beaches are now calling us south-eastwards. Their sands spring sporadically like skin shredding from the serpentine Pittwater Road as it slithers along the shore. One falls off just below the Church Point carpark, another round the bend by a small marina, and the final on a bay dominated by the headquarters of the Bayview Yacht Racing Association.

Each lies still, unassumingly, only slowly growing in size as the late afternoon tide reluctantly withdraws. We chase the tide as we follow the beaches, navigating our way through tangled dinghies, recently afloat, now buried into the sand. Quick dips, waste high, are all that we can manage.

Beach on Pittwater Road

Perhaps we’ll find a more suitable swim at Bayview Baths further along. Added to the wharf in 1915, contiguous with the shoreline, the structure is one of Bayview’s earliest items still intact. Featuring timber piles and vertical steel bars, it used to serve as vital protection from the biting sharks once prevalent in Pittwater. Still a popular hub for the community, it continues to offer safe and easy access to the Pittwater estuary for those who wish to swim and wade.

Alas, our bad luck continues with the retreating tide; today the baths are little more than a pool of murky, shallow water. Better to settle ourselves on its sloping concrete steps for views of darting speedboats in the distance, resting a while before our final destination.

Bayview Baths

Bayview Dog Park, located at the south-eastern most edge of the estuary, is where the real action is at. Tread carefully though, for raucous, unleashed packs hurdle across the fields. Their eyes are fixated on one thing and one thing only: buckets of bouncing balls fleeing from slobbery deaths in the jaws of the canine killers.

Barks, howls, yelps, and growls follow the most desperate of the balls stumbling off the grass onto the spit of sand that curves into the water. Some balls burst through with a last hurrah into the swelling sea, praying the tides will carry them off to distant lands of safety. Persistent pups are not afraid of getting a little wet, however, paddling with all fours, nose forward, past leisurely swimmers and stand-up paddle board goers, in hot pursuit.

Bayview Dog Park

It's amongst this chaos we take our final plunge. Drifting away from the balls and pooches, we merge with the vast depths of sea below and sky above. Fading together from orange to pink to purple hues, we float endlessly away from Pittwater’s shores - on into the evening.

Total beaches: 86/175