Crescent Head - The Bay

The bay on a reasonably calm day

The second day we were at Crescents’, and while the surf was still a reasonable size I grabbed the camera and walked out to the point with the intention of getting some good, scenic shots. How many surfers who have made that walk, have looked over at Crescent Bay and not been in awe of the complete majesty of the big stuff that rolls in there. I would say that there are less than a handful of places that I’ve seen where you can get a real good, up close look at the ocean in all its unrestrained greatness, from a number of angles. Besides surfing, there has always been something about the sea I can’t quite put my finger on, something that always draws me to it like a magnet.

I clambered out as far as I could over various types of rock, some so smooth that the peril of slipping was very real and some as sharp as a razor, so any quick retreat from a threatening wave was extremely dangerous. I stood out there for I don’t remember how long, but it was only with the setting of the sun that I walked back down the hill to the car.

Crescent Bay is aptly named, as that’s exactly what it is and the energy from every wave that comes in here has almost no escape back out but it continues to oppose the incoming ones. One set in particular I could see coming from quite a way out; it had me taking a few cautious steps back just in case it was a sneaker set. It approached the bay so stealthily that it almost appeared to be a harmless, gentle mountain just cruising along until it reached the bay and the outgoing energy from a previous, lesser sized set. And it was where these two peaks of energy met that the most spectacular occurrence of all happened, a huge surge went almost straight up making the wave at least three times higher. All the way up and down the line of these waves, comparable and impressive events were happening. To my left and straight out in front a colossal left rose up and threatened to swallow the huge rock in front of it. In the middle of the bay this wave hit a shallow spot like a freight train, lurched up and then out, finally falling from top to bottom like wet cement. While far over to the right another section formed into a gigantic wedge and rammed itself into the huge cliff face, sending a thick spray of white water umpteen metres into the air. The outgoing energy in the form of an almost rideable wave, which was about two thirds the size of the incoming ones continued out for quite a number of metres before it disappeared, almost mysteriously, into deep water.

This scenario repeated itself over and over again, causing me to feel very insignificant in light of what I saw on a large rock that was sitting out in front of all this. It was copping most of this furious onslaught and on the side of this rock was a rich patch of green seaweed, which was also catching the last rays of the fading sun. I pondered, ‘in amongst that weed there would be small life forms, carrying on with living, as if nothing was happening amidst all this fury’. I also thought about the fisherman, who had been swept off similar rocks in heavy surf, a couple of kilometres further south, whose body was never recovered. I even imagined myself, somehow being placed in the middle of all this and thinking, what would I do. The only answer I could come up with was nothing; if I managed to survive the assailment of the first wave then there’d be no way of surviving a second, as I would be caught in the maelstrom, it would never let me go.

I truly love the sea in all its moods and the many settings that it is presented to me in. I could have stayed there for hour upon hour watching it, but it was starting to get pretty dark, so I climbed back over the rocks and then over the hill. I couldn’t help it but continually look back and be in awe of the bay, to catch a final glimpse of its magnificence and its terror.

The right, centre and left of the bay

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