It had been 3 years since I’d been to Saltwater Creek. I’d forgotten how magic it was.
Back then, Simon was just a few weeks old, his first trip home to Australia. He and Deb lay under an umbrella, sheltered from the summer sun. It was February.
This time around it’s a different season, a spectacular winter weekend, blue, clear and fresh.
Barely a soul to be seen down there, we meet a fisherman spinning off the rocks at the north end of the beach. He reels in a pan-sized salmon. There’s a gentle off-shore breeze, the water is smooth and glassy.
The next morning at sunrise, a seal skips through the shallows chasing small fish.
To work up an appetite for lunch, Jenny, Arthur and I take a walk south, around the point. Folds and seams of brightly coloured rock decorate the coastline like weird Gaudi’s. It makes me wish I had paid attention during geology lessons. Berms of lava like the surface of Mars, layers of gold and white, and then the dazzling blue of the ocean. You gotta see this place.
And then, around a corner, a cave. What is this place? Jenny says she has heard some stories from local Aboriginal people about these coastal caves. It cuts deep into the shoreline, dark, cool, protected. It must have been here like this for millions of years. I want to know more.
If anyone reading this knows anything about this cave, about 100 metres south of Saltwater Creek, get in touch with me.
It’s a strange dichotomy about this place – at once so stunningly beautiful and easy on the eye, it also drives me to wonder, to think, to want to study and learn. There are stories here that I can’t even imagine.
The Wilderness Coast. You may not have been anywhere like this.