The beaches and shoreline of Great Oyster Bay play a very important part in the economy of Swansea. Folk flock here to spend time 'by the seaside'. And why not? As we have already seen, the views across the bay are magnificent, its waters are relatively sheltered and many of the local beaches are ideal for swimming.
As a result, although the town is small, it sports a raft of motels, holiday apartments, up-market B&B's, cafes and restaurants.
A walking path, which extends around Waterloo Point, the knob like protrusion into Great Oyster Bay, offers tourists the chance to enjoy the sea views whilst getting a bit of exercise. We took up the offer.
Waterloo Point is also home to the local golf course, as this aerial shot of the town, courtesy of 'Peter Bellingham', shows.
We began our jaunt at the northern end of the path, just below the short, dead end section of Maria Street. This photo (from 'business view') provides an excellent overview of this end of town, the apartments of Maria Street, the Morris Store and two of the three main town beaches divided by the town jetty and boat launching ramps. Waterloo Point is obvious, as are the ridges of the Hazards on Freycinet Peninsula to the east.
Distant haze seems to be pretty much a constant here in Swansea, and as we set off down the northern end of the walking path, today was no exception.
I would have to comment that there is nothing too fancy about this track. Its compressed earth surface presented the occasional rough spots, and sadly much of the lawn areas along its length were suffering from the prolonged 'summer dry' like the rest of the Island, but these were but minor considerations.
Not far into our stroll we were able to get a good look at Jubilee Beach through a low patch of pathway bushes as it arced around towards the jetty complex..
Before we reached the jetty, the pathway brought us to this well developed seafront park where apart from the public BBQ's, shelter sheds and children's playground, the real feature was the rock walls which have been built to retain the slope up to Franklin Street.
These rock walls are quite extensive,
and, as this shot shows, the construction includes a street side viewing platform and a small amphitheatre, all made from what we now know is the local fieldstone, so typical of Swansea.
As we continued on past the playground
we were presented with this unusual sight. I had a fair idea what it was but I have to say it was the last thing we expected to find here.
Pentanque is certainly not the most commonly played game in the country, and this was the first public pentanque court we had ever encountered in our travels. The state of the rules board indicated that this had been here for some time, and a little later research revealed that this game, which originated in the French town of Provence at the turn of the century, is very popular on the Apple Isle. Clubs and courts can be found in most major centres, and why not? It's a heck of a lot easier to play than its cousin, lawn bowls.
With that mystery solved we moved on towards something with which we were much more familiar, the town boat ramp and jetty.
As this old photo clearly shows, the infrastructure of today is a vast improvement on what was here in the early 1900's.
Naturally I could not resist the draw of a walk to the end where the extent of the infrastructure was obvious. The fishing in Great Oyster Bay is excellent, and the degree to which this plays an important part in the lives of locals and visitors was evident in this facility.
The ends of jetties invariably provide grand views, and Swansea was no exception. From here I could see back over Jubilee Beach and, surprise, surprise, there was the Morris Store again!
The trees of Waterloo Point loomed large in the other direction,
as did the seaweed strewn sands of Waterloo Beach.
With the jetty scenes under our belts we marched on south, past yet another example of the use of the local stone, this time as the front fence of a seaside home. I'm not so sure that this was a good 'fit' for this property, but I did have to admire the arch. That must have been pretty tricky to construct.
Waterloo Beach is 'motel central' in Swansea. The continuation of the waterfront path
soon took us past the seafront rooms of the Swansea Motor Inn
and its neighbour, the Swansea Waterloo Inn where, naturally enough, all widows faced east over the bay.
By now we had almost reached Waterloo Point
where the path and this end of the golf course below the club house came into potentially dangerously close proximity. We were pleased to find a protective fence separated us from those who may have been swinging clubs (none in sight today thankfully)
and amused by the warning sign nearby. Fortunately for us there were no cries of 'fore' ringing in the air as we meandered on.
This point along the track gave us a grand view back across the curve of Waterloo Beach, and, of course (if you look closely) there was the Morris Store again!
Like many before me, I initially thought that this was a typically unpronounceable Welsh name, but in fact it is the 'moniker' of the local Aboriginal tribe. And irrespective of any difficulty with the name, this 2.3 kilometre trail is well worth walking. As one commentary noted, it will take longer to learn how to pronounce its name than to complete it!
We were blissfully ignorant of the track's title as we set off from the Waterloo Beach end.
It was not too long before two completely different seats offered respite for the weary walker. We had no need of either and plodded on enthusiastically.
The views were marvellous.
For much of the way the track was flat and easily managed
but shortly after we had passed the tell tale small openings which formed part of the quite significant mutton bird nesting colony here on Waterloo Point,
the trail began to rise over a large, plate rock outcrop.
From this vantage point we could now see far to the south past the end of the Freycinet Peninsula. Here too, we noticed that many of the rocks below us were painted orange by the same lichen which is far more spectacularly on show at the Bay of Fires, on the coast to the north.
As the path again flattened and continued to curve around the end of the point, we could see the knob of Maysons Bluff which signified the far southern end of Schouten Beach, the stretch of sand which ran directly in front of our caravan park.
The low swells of Great Oyster Bay were lapping gently against the orange and grey rocks below us and even on this hazy day, the colours were just stunning.
The last leg. The sands of Schouten Beach, curving away south of Waterloo Point, lay before us
and we could now see the car park end of the trail.
All that now remained was a short stroll along The Esplanade to reach the beach side entrance gate to our digs, and our Swansea seafront stroll was at an end.
I have just realised that the name 'Schouten' (Beach and House) is one of prominence in Swansea, and is clearly not of English, Welsh or Aboriginal origin. And yet another 'Schouten', the island, lies just south of the Freycinet Peninsula in Great Oyster Bay.
So what is the origin of this name? We owe it to that stalwart of early exploration of the southern seas, Abel Tasman. He named the island to which I have referred in 1642 whilst surveying the south-west coast of Tasmania after one Joost Schouten, a member of the Dutch East India Company at the time. It has obvioulsy been adopted by the local authorities and one of the early owners of Schouten House.
Now we had seen the sands of Jubilee Beach, Waterloo Beach and Schouten Beach. As I have mentioned previously, Swansea is noted for its beaches, some of which are not directly in front of the town.
One of the longest lies along the northern end of Great Oyster Bay. We could not possibly leave this area without making the time to check it out and enjoy another long seaside stroll.
This involved a drive out along the peninsular which is separated from Great Oyster Bay by the waters, wetlands and tidal flats of Moulting Lagoon, the large dark expanse shown here stretching between Friendly Beaches and Dolphin Sands.
This peninsular is home to an array of holiday homes of all varieties, and ends at Bagot Point, where we found a narrow track onto the estuary beach.
At first glance this did not look wide enough to allow large vehicle access, despite the fact that it was obviously used as a boat launching area,
but once we had walked in from the car park we soon saw that some of our fellow travellers are prepared to squeeze through anywhere to gain a great camping spot.
And who could blame them? With fine, white sand at their doorsteps, good fishing to be had in the tidal flows of the clear estuary waters, a view of the mountains of the Hazards and some of the homes of the delightful Coles Bay to greet them each morning, I would rate this choice as first class.
Again, as had happened when I spotted the fishing boat in the yard of the Swansea Police Station, the little green demon of envy tapped on my shoulder. This find was definitely going into the 'for the next time' book (when we should be in our new smaller off-road van)!
Our next stop on the return drive was at the only beach access car park we found during our trip in along the peninsula.
Many homes through this area enjoy absolute beach front isolation on large blocks, and as we had discovered, public walkways were severely limited. But one was enough.
What a magnificent stretch of sand we found. Looking east we could see the ever present Hazards on the Freycinet
and, in closer focus, the specks of houses in the delightful peninsula town of Coles Bay.
Looking the other way,
and tweaking the lens, brought Swansea's Waterloo Beach and the two large motels (sorry, Inns...this is Tassie after all!) into view.
The marvellous beach of Dolphin Sands even came with its own beach belle!
It had been some time since we had been able to stretch our legs along a firm, level beach for what seemed like unlimited distances, and we made the most of it with a two hour walk.
The handsome little resident Pied Oyster Catchers were more than happy to share their home with us with only an occasional call of protest if we encroached too closely.
As we made off, my only initial concern was to be able to determine just where our beach access track made its way through the low sand hills. Nature provided the solution in the form of this gnarled, weirdly shaped tree stump.
The fact that this was the only example of a dead tree along most of this beach almost had us wondering if there had been human intervention at some time, but we'll never know and I have to say it was more than useful.
As a postscript to this tale and our visit to Dolphin Sands, we were concerned to see recent news items about one of the serious summer bush fires to strike the Apple Isle. You've guessed it....the scrub of Dolphin Sands was ablaze, and having seen the way in which many homes along this peninsula were surrounded by dense bush land, we feared the worst, but the efforts of the local fireies were superb. Only one small shack was lost to the flames.
We did visit two more nearby beaches, one south of the town and the other, the oddly named Friendly Beaches, which you can see in the Google Earth shot. Neither were a patch on Dolphin Sands, but that's a story for another day.
The last leg. The sands of Schouten Beach, curving away south of Waterloo Point, lay before us
and we could now see the car park end of the trail.
All that now remained was a short stroll along The Esplanade to reach the beach side entrance gate to our digs, and our Swansea seafront stroll was at an end.
I have just realised that the name 'Schouten' (Beach and House) is one of prominence in Swansea, and is clearly not of English, Welsh or Aboriginal origin. And yet another 'Schouten', the island, lies just south of the Freycinet Peninsula in Great Oyster Bay.
So what is the origin of this name? We owe it to that stalwart of early exploration of the southern seas, Abel Tasman. He named the island to which I have referred in 1642 whilst surveying the south-west coast of Tasmania after one Joost Schouten, a member of the Dutch East India Company at the time. It has obvioulsy been adopted by the local authorities and one of the early owners of Schouten House.
Now we had seen the sands of Jubilee Beach, Waterloo Beach and Schouten Beach. As I have mentioned previously, Swansea is noted for its beaches, some of which are not directly in front of the town.
One of the longest lies along the northern end of Great Oyster Bay. We could not possibly leave this area without making the time to check it out and enjoy another long seaside stroll.
This involved a drive out along the peninsular which is separated from Great Oyster Bay by the waters, wetlands and tidal flats of Moulting Lagoon, the large dark expanse shown here stretching between Friendly Beaches and Dolphin Sands.
This peninsular is home to an array of holiday homes of all varieties, and ends at Bagot Point, where we found a narrow track onto the estuary beach.
At first glance this did not look wide enough to allow large vehicle access, despite the fact that it was obviously used as a boat launching area,
but once we had walked in from the car park we soon saw that some of our fellow travellers are prepared to squeeze through anywhere to gain a great camping spot.
And who could blame them? With fine, white sand at their doorsteps, good fishing to be had in the tidal flows of the clear estuary waters, a view of the mountains of the Hazards and some of the homes of the delightful Coles Bay to greet them each morning, I would rate this choice as first class.
Again, as had happened when I spotted the fishing boat in the yard of the Swansea Police Station, the little green demon of envy tapped on my shoulder. This find was definitely going into the 'for the next time' book (when we should be in our new smaller off-road van)!
Our next stop on the return drive was at the only beach access car park we found during our trip in along the peninsula.
Many homes through this area enjoy absolute beach front isolation on large blocks, and as we had discovered, public walkways were severely limited. But one was enough.
What a magnificent stretch of sand we found. Looking east we could see the ever present Hazards on the Freycinet
and, in closer focus, the specks of houses in the delightful peninsula town of Coles Bay.
Looking the other way,
and tweaking the lens, brought Swansea's Waterloo Beach and the two large motels (sorry, Inns...this is Tassie after all!) into view.
The marvellous beach of Dolphin Sands even came with its own beach belle!
It had been some time since we had been able to stretch our legs along a firm, level beach for what seemed like unlimited distances, and we made the most of it with a two hour walk.
The handsome little resident Pied Oyster Catchers were more than happy to share their home with us with only an occasional call of protest if we encroached too closely.
As we made off, my only initial concern was to be able to determine just where our beach access track made its way through the low sand hills. Nature provided the solution in the form of this gnarled, weirdly shaped tree stump.
The fact that this was the only example of a dead tree along most of this beach almost had us wondering if there had been human intervention at some time, but we'll never know and I have to say it was more than useful.
As a postscript to this tale and our visit to Dolphin Sands, we were concerned to see recent news items about one of the serious summer bush fires to strike the Apple Isle. You've guessed it....the scrub of Dolphin Sands was ablaze, and having seen the way in which many homes along this peninsula were surrounded by dense bush land, we feared the worst, but the efforts of the local fireies were superb. Only one small shack was lost to the flames.
We did visit two more nearby beaches, one south of the town and the other, the oddly named Friendly Beaches, which you can see in the Google Earth shot. Neither were a patch on Dolphin Sands, but that's a story for another day.
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