|
|
|
|
Crescents – August 2001
At 7.30 am I was on my way through peak hour traffic up the hills towards the South Eastern Freeway. I had a pleasant tailwind, which saved me petrol nicely. At 12.45 I finally arrived at Tooleybuc to have the obligatory pit stop for Rexy and myself. Another half-hour to the Ballarat turn-off onto the Hay Plain. Music and smokes kept me entertained. The 130 km along the Hay Plain actually went quite quickly, since I was looking out for "Ravensworth". It is a huge property situated approximately 66 km from Hay. Actually, I’m pretty sure it’s the only property along this stretch of road. The endless mobile sprinkler systems as well as stobie poles connecting "Ravensworth" to the outside world via phone and electricity point the driver in the right direction.
When I was stopping for petrol at Hay, some smart New South Welshman pointed at my surfboard and remarked that I was a long way from the surf – as if I didn’t know! He wanted to know where I was heading and I told him. He didn’t know where Kempsey was, so I listed the towns along the way, to update his lack of knowledge. Maybe he’d only ever travelled between Hay and Sydney?
Driving through Hay, I continued with the longest stretch ahead, 255 km to West Wyalong. The sun was setting and I was in a hurry to reach my destination for that night, but it was another endless hour till Forbes. Ah, what bliss to finally arrive at this lovely cabin in the River Meadows Caravan Park, which is so familiar to me by now. I was starving because I had only eaten a few biscuits all day. I chose to get some greasy chicken nuggets, salads and limp chips at a take-away joint in the centre of town. I also thought it wise to fill up the car with petrol so I could have an early start and a quick run to Dubbo.
I slept like a rock and woke up at 5 am, leaving for Dubbo. Breakfast at the Dubbo bakery consisted of a creamy Vegie-Cheese-Pie and to satisfy my sweet tooth two pieces of cake. I rang ahead to make a booking at my favourite caravan park in Kempsey, only to be told there weren’t any vacancies due to some stupid ten pin bowling competition. So I rang another one but they didn’t have a cabin with ensuite, which I didn’t fancy. Finally I arrived at the Tall Timbers Caravan Park in Kempsey at 3 PM. Because I was in a hurry to check out the surf, I left it for the time being. Driving along the road to Crescents I noticed that there were bush fires everywhere, it seemed like there was a lot of seasonal burning-off going on. Also the road had been improved and widened at a notorious bend. When I pulled into the car park overlooking Crescents I was disappointed. There was surf alright, maybe 2-3 foot, but the afternoon off-shores where blowing a howling gale, making it very difficult to pick up a wave. I climbed out of the car and let Rexy have a bit of a sniff around; he loves this place as there are plenty of lizards for him to chase. Standing on the rock with my camera to document my arrival, I suddenly heard a loud "whoosh" behind me and felt like I was standing in the shower. At 3.15 the sprinklers had been turned on, threatening to drown my camera and me. So I moved on and walked up the Nobby to have a look at the white caps on the water, then drove up to the water tower, where I nearly got blown off due to the ferocity of the wind. I’d had enough; so far things hadn’t been too good. I felt sorry for myself and drove back into Kempsey to get something to eat, like a roast chicken with rolls and salad from Woolworth's. I also dropped into my favourite bargain shop.
I had the urgent need to retire back to the cabin, it had been a long day, full of anticipation and frustration and nobody to share it with. My dog was happy though, plenty of chicken leftovers for him! It was nice to enjoy the rest of the evening having some tucker, a cup of coffee and reading the paper in the company of my dog before finally retiring to bed. Something I ate must have been so salty that during the night I woke up every two hours to have a drink of water.
Next morning bright and early I arrived at Crescents at sunrise, to be greeted by who other than Hindu. He immediately enquired about the length of my stay. I didn’t exactly feel like talking to him so after a quick reply in passing, I took a walk up the Nobby to check out the surf. There was hardly any wind and the surf was a decent size, but in my opinion it didn’t seem to be breaking consistently well. I wasn’t pleased with what I saw. It was getting crowded already too. After watching for a while, I decided to take a drive down the gravel road to Big Hill, maybe it was breaking better there.
Sunrise at Racecourse
After stopping to take some sunrise photos and enjoying the solitude overlooking Racecourse, I arrived at Big Hill. What a pristine place it is - nobody there, except for two men, one of them fishing. I watched and figured it looked better than Crescents, although not breaking as well as I remembered it. The tide was low, but I recalled from our last visit a year ago that on low tide one could actually walk alongside the rocks nearly all the way to the break, which wasn’t the case today. I felt a bit uneasy about going out by myself but thought that the fisherman would probably help me in case something happened. As I got changed, the second guy walked up and commented on how chilly it was. When he saw me making moves to go out, he asked me if I knew this break and had been here before. He introduced himself as Bruce from Hawaii, born in Dee Why, Sydney, but having lived in Hawaii long enough to acquire the appropriate accent. In the course of the conversation he also told me that he’d been in South Australia and surfed Henley Beach, but not the South Coast. His passing words were, "You’re brave, going out there by yourself!" Well, I wasn’t going to drive all this way and not getting wet! So out I went. The water was lovely warm, as clear as glass, bottle-green and I could count the toes on my feet. I didn’t have any luck catching a wave though, so disappointedly went in to have a rest. By this time a handful of shortboarders had arrived, and after having a smoke and a chat to one of them I decided to give it another try. It took me a while to paddle back out, and there were the occasional bigger sets coming through. On one occasion a big clean up set rolled through and I grabbed my board and turtle-rolled. The board got ripped out of my hand and I spun around underwater. Even though I had my eyes closed to avoid loosing my contact lenses, strangely enough everything was a bright green. When I popped up, I saw that the others had been caught too. I wasn’t the only one not getting any waves.
Big Hill
Finally, at 10 AM I got dressed again and drove back to check out what was happening mid-tide at Crescents. There were about 25 guys out. I wanted to give it another shot but it didn’t work. The waves looked impressive enough when thundering around the point, then dying down into less intimidating ones. Crescents is a soft-breaking wave, but unfortunately I never caught one. There was already somebody on it or for some reason I didn’t get onto it. I don’t know what I was doing wrong. So most of the time I was chatting to a young dreadlocked girl on a shortboard. People have to tell interesting stories; nearly everybody has got something fascinating to say if you’re willing to lend them an ear! She couldn’t believe how cold the water was compared to Queensland, where she was residing. Originally from Yankalilla in South Oz, her parents had moved up to Crescents and she had moved to Queensland to do Surf Safaris. Her brother was riding an old Midget Farrelly plank that was so heavy he could have ridden a wave in a puddle. The only wave I did manage to get onto for some reason I dug my rail in and fell off. When my fingertips were totally shrivelled up I paddled into shore and thought to myself, "I’ve come all this way only to find out I can’t surf".
Crescent Head
So I went to the newsagency, bought the daily paper and gave Ron a call. Then I popped into the surf shop in the faint hope to acquire a surf sticker, but again, just like the last couple of fruitless attempts, this time the excuse was they’d been on holiday in Bali. We got talking about the planned prawn hatchery at Racecourse. I am always surprised how dedicated the locals are in trying to prevent progress with the aim to retain the environment for their children. They successfully undermined the development of sandmining, establishment of multiple prawn hatcheries and upgrading of the gravel road to Point Plomer. They really do look after their place because they think this part of the coastline is unique.
Time for a meal at the pub, lonely I sat at the window in the sun, staring out to see, munching on my chicken burger. Any more chicken and I’d start to grow wings, therefore the meal had to be topped off with a gooey piece of mud cake from the bakery across the road. Then I took my doggy up the water tower again to take some more scenic photos, watched a couple sleeping in the scrub, saw a fish eagle and some whales.
Back down at the beach I walked to the bay, which attracts me like a magnet. Watching the waves crashing against the rocks with the spray spashing vertically into the air fascinated me, so I took a few shots and then moved on to try to capture some decent surf photos.
The Bay
I was just aiming at a longboarder who’d picked up the last wave of a set when suddenly two dolphins leapt out of the water right next to him. Instinctively I pressed the shutter button, knowing that this would be an excellent once in a lifetime shot. The multitude of marine life is obvious; you can observe little fish jumping out of the water, against the break, probably chased by a bigger fish.
What was I going to do tomorrow, was the question that needed answering. I’d made my choice. There was no point in hanging around another day. A change was forecast, and by 4 PM the winds had turned onshore, stuffing up the surf completely. I decided to drive home the following morning. Even though I loved this place, it was also the weekend, I’d had a long session, I’d gotten the trip out of system. The urge had gone, the curiosity was killed.
Radio Telescope Parkes
I wasn’t looking forward to the long exhausting drive home. The change hit early in the morning, after I’d left West Wyalong. Driving into a strong headwind, it seemed to take forever to get home. When I did arrive, I had the homecoming blues and wished I was elsewhere.
photos and Story by Sibylle Taylor
© R & S. Taylor 2003
bravenet.com