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Humans came from the sea – somehow – and I still feel a tangible sense of union with nature unlike any other outdoor experience when I dive in.
It’s been a constant in my life, hence I have lots of favourite beaches. Some, like Freshwater, Bilgola, Soldiers Beach, are associated with childhood and the sensory overload of salt in the air, kelpy water, sunscreen (of a sort), wet towels and family.
Here, nesting under a multicoloured beach umbrella wobbly in the wind, like a brood of chicks just out of the nest, we could take a collective deep breath after a year that felt like it would never end, squinting out at the rolling surf and the passing parade.
Next up came rites-of-passage beaches while chasing waves with brothers and mates.
Peter Garrett says the beach is agnostic and equitable. All shapes and sizes, backgrounds and beliefs can gather.Credit: Kane Hibberd
Bodysurfing Queenscliff a long way out with the bombora going off, the large swell a surprise gift from a distant cyclone.
Cramming into an ancient station wagon, charging up the Mid North Coast to Blueys, where dusk has fallen but you’re still hanging on for that last perfect wave as the Seal Rocks lighthouse starts up, its beam tracing a comforting parabola across a deep, darkening sea.
Looking back, these elemental experiences were grounded in the rhythms of nature. Time was suspended and the sometimes uncomfortable world held at bay.
The beach is agnostic and equitable. All shapes and sizes, backgrounds and beliefs can gather. And yes, wearing any kind of swimming attire, up-lit by the blazing summer sun; a sanctuary from the constant din of digital sales spiels.
When you’re distracted only by the swirls of sand at the water’s edge, or the anticipation of the thrills to come – with parents, friends, instant neighbours close by – it’s pure bliss.
The beach is called “the church of the open sky” for a reason. In an age of autocrats, with climate chaos tugging at your sleeve and where-will-it-end AI incursion, beaches provide sweet relief, open all hours to anyone who shows up.
Other than paying for your parking space, expenses are negligible, and the all-day care provided by volunteer lifesavers is surely one of our best social undertakings.
Rob Hirst and Peter Garrett at a Midnight Oil show in the early 1980s.Credit:
Journeying up and down and across the continent, I’ve seen the greatest assemblage of beaches and bays, inlets, lagoons, lakes and headlands – many relatively unspoiled, courtesy of First Peoples stewardship – anywhere in the world.
Bali, Malibu, Honolulu, the Riviera, anyone? Grossly overdeveloped, perpetually overhyped, these bucket-list locations don’t even come close.
Only two hours south of Sydney, true to its name, stretches Seven Mile Beach. With the hamlet of Gerroa clustered on its northern headland, this long beach sweeps south to Shoalhaven Heads.
Bookended by rivers and camping grounds, Seven Mile Beach has the added bonus of a small national park, running the length of the beach.Credit: Katina Curtis
Often windswept, its currents can be treacherous; driftwood piles dot the shore. Seabirds are everywhere. It’s a bit wild and a lot wonderful. To the west across the dunes is Coolangatta-Cullunghutti Mountain.
In winter, big swells pound the sand; it’s no surprise shipwrecks lie offshore.
Bookended by rivers and camping grounds, Seven Mile has the added bonus of a small national park running the length of the beach. This parcel of revegetated coastal heath and rainforest, courtesy of staunch community action to hold back sand mining in the area, is a brilliant bush buffer zone, replete with barbecue facilities and walking paths that lead to the shore.
Here at Seven Mile is a small slice of the natural world, its healing qualities freely accessible to anyone who chooses to visit. What a country!
Peter Garrett is a musician, environmentalist, activist and former politician.
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