For as long as I can remember – and long before that – I’ve been on the road with my father.
We’re up for an adventure at a moment’s notice. Sometimes it’s as simple as chasing a calm breeze or wandering out at low tide. Other times, we set out to explore remote canyons in the outback or snow-capped peaks in New Zealand.
These days, Dad lives in Berry and I live 800 km away in Melbourne.
So each year, we try to meet up across Australia and beyond – to catch up, slow down and even take some photos together if we’re lucky.
Chasing sapphires at low tide
In early September, I flew into Merimbula Airport – an oversized shed beside a strip of tarmac on the far south coast of NSW. Known as The Sapphire Coast, this stretch of secluded coves and jagged sea stacks is a special spot for us.
As we learned landscape photography in the early 2010s, we got the itch to explore and set off down the coast in search of bolder seascapes to capture. The striking pair of Horse Head Rock and Camel Rock soon became our white whales.
After Dad picked me up from Merimbula, we scoped out the coast and made camp under the trees at Mystery Bay. We had some soup, shared a nip of muscat and it was lights out. (The stars, though, didn’t get the memo. Far from the city lights, the night sky over our camp was glowing.)
At 4:45 am, it was go time.
We’ve now made a dozen pre-dawn hikes out to Horse Head Rock since 2014. Yet we still verbalise the mantra: slow and steady. Even at low tide, the trek around jagged cliffs and the rubble of boulders isn’t for the faint of heart. Yet at 65, Dad scrambles on. And at 34, I no longer bolt ahead.
While the conditions weren’t ideal, we had the whole stretch of coast to ourselves. The tide was out and there was little cloud overhead. The two elements we often rely on for bold seascapes – rushing waves and colourful skies – were nowhere to be seen.
Yet after a decade, we’ve seen too many so-so conditions to be disheartened and pack up. Instead, we stayed steady and soon spotted a scene further back, with flowing rock forms and a calm pool.
When we’re together, we spur each other on in the best way. When one of us suggests skipping an early morning start, the other says: Let’s still go out and have a look.
So we fired off a few frames, soaked in the golden light and popped into Bermagui for coffee. Honorbread, the local bakery, served up a tasty cardamom bun as we watched for whales heading south for summer. (Whale count: 0.)
We took the scenic road back to camp via Central Tilba, winding through rolling hills dotted with granite boulders and gum trees. Then we explored the beaches around Mystery Bay – where paddemelons feasted where the bush met the shore.
We returned for sunrise the next day to be taunted by a glimmer of a gap in the clouds that never quite materialised. Our eternal, elusive search for the perfect sunrise at Horse Head Rock continues…
With strong winds set to whip through overnight, we packed up camp and made our way south through Cobargo, Eden and then on to Green Cape for the night.
Our afternoon in Beowa National Park was packed with wildlife. Blue wrens fluttered around the scrub. Sea eagles soared overhead. Wombats munched away.
And then we took in the coast around Green Cape Lighthouse. The headland jutted out far into the Tasman Sea, giving us sweeping views up and down the coast.
Safe to say, we found our missing whales. Scores of veterans and calves splashed and thumped on their way down south for summer. (Whale count: 20+.)
We saw mighty kelp forests swaying with the tides. Or so I assumed. What I thought were kelp leaves were revealed to be scores of seals, who started diving under and jumping over the swell. Their slick pelts sliced through the ocean surface like sewing needles.
That afternoon on the coast was something special.
After returning to city living this year, it’s all too easy to become desensitised to nature’s splendour. But seeing those animals roam free was a vivid reminder of wonder beyond our daily worries.
Home among the gum trees
With wild winds blowing through the night, we packed up camp at Bittangabee and began the drive west into Victoria.
A few podcast favourites kept us company on the 7-hour drive: Hamish and Andy investigated commemorative coins; Zane Lowe and Hans Zimmer sought to stay playful; Ezra Klein and Bill McKibben talked climate and renewables.
We crossed the Snowy at Orbost and stopped for lunch at Bairnsdale. We wound our way through the Gippsland hills to Warburton where we set up camp and enjoyed our first shower of the trip. Hot water – what a luxury!
The calls of kookaburras woke us well before dawn and we set off into the cloud-covered hills beyond town.
Dad was taken by Victoria’s lush native forests after I first showed him the Otways and the Yarra Ranges a few years back. So he was eager to return during our stay here.
The conditions on our first morning were stellar. As we explored deeper into the forest, gentle showers and glimmers of sunshine danced around the hills and through the mountain ash.
Each twist in the road revealed more towering tree ferns and moss-covered myrtles. After stopping to take in the sights, we’d find ourselves stopping 50 m up the road as we crested the next bend and saw the next stunning scene.
Lyrebirds scurried and scratched for breakfast. A luminous pink robin hopped across the road to break the backdrop of greens and browns.
We were both giddy. With the shifting showers, we helped each other change lenses in the car and shared the umbrella as we pointed our cameras up into the shrouded canopy above.
With empty stomachs and full SD cards, we returned to town and had our tastiest coffee of the trip at Silva Coffee Roasters. And Monday just so happened to be Parma Night at the Alpine Hotel. So we treated ourselves and had a cheeky mulled cider that went down a treat.
In the morning we woke to mixed photography conditions.
Still wind? Brilliant. Clear skies? Well… they’re great for tourism brochures, but not so much for photographers.
Bright skies often result in crunchy contrast. And in the forest, the direct sun creates too many distractions – with a thousand scattered spotlights all screaming for attention.
We still headed up into the hills and found the Eastern slopes bathed in golden light. It was lovely to experience, but challenging to find clean frames of the gums.
So I decided to slow down and wander on foot. A clean opening emerged through the mountain ash trunks and I framed a garden of tree ferns ready to unfurl for spring.
I often don’t photograph with direct light. But my photos of Horse Head Rock and these golden ferns may be my favourites of the trip.
With blue skies and the harsh light getting harsher, we returned to town and enjoyed a stroll by the Yarra. No platypus this time. But we did spot a few stray spring ducklings valiantly paddling to keep up with the family group.
And that was that.
Our final morning was windy and wet. So we enjoyed a sleep-in before packing up and returning home.
The roadtrip followed a familiar script. Toasted banana bread and naan. U2 mixed with Hamish and Andy. Early alarms paired with slow afternoons.
But this latest adventure carved out its own moments and memories. Mulled cider and deep chats. Slow photography and soaking in the conditions.
I guess it’s time we planned our next trip.