Almost eight years ago now I had the chance to visit Cedar Bay in the often forgotten Cedar Bay National Park, Far North Queensland. That's north of Cape Tribulation by a day or two's mountain bike ride up the Bloomfield Track and just a day's walk in from the Wujal Wujal aboriginal community through thick jungle following an ancient songline.
We, me and my friend Dallas, sought permission from the local community to walk the track. The elders approved our mission and forewarned us about the areas we needed to avoid ... kind of like tapu places that were best left to the spirits.
The track turned out to be more of a random hint of a trail that had grown over many years before and was instead filled with snakes on the high points, leeches on the low points and razor sharp wait-a-while vines in between.
It took a full day of jungle bashing in searing temperatures and high humidity before we eventually spilled out on to the coastline at Cedar Bay National Park. We thought we'd be isolated out there. At first we were, but slowly, one-by-one a string of alternative lifestylers started to appear from their rough camps in the jungle and the trail from the other end (turns out a shortcut, which suited the Australian hippies better than the more arduous songline trek).
For four days we shared a beach, that frequently sees big saltwater crocodiles, with some of the finest humans you could imagine. It wasn't their adventurous spirit, or the way they wore their jungle-stained clothing. It wasn't even the way they smelled of campfire smoke, or sliced a coconut with a machete as casually as one might open a can of beer. It was the way they viewed the world. They saw richness in their experiences, the way they interacted with each other and in the natural world. They were like wild animals connected to a much larger fabric where one action has an affect on the next, but nothing truly dominates the other. A balance. It was confronting, exhilirating and there was something acutely futuristic about it. It changed me.
I think about Cedar Bay now as we are in lockdown. New Zealanders with high-calibre positions on the rung of a perilous corporate ladder are instead spending time with their children. Families are gathering to break bread and watch the 1pm news together. People are cycling, walking, checking on neighbours, cooking, teaching young ones to cook, watching birds, listening to birds, having car-free weeks, calling long-lost friends and slowing down. Slowing right down.
I hope as we rebuild the new normal we reflect on the goodness lockdown has brought and maybe even thread a few strands, a few learnings into the way we shape our future.
See you at the beach (hopefully) ... Derek
PS Want to have your say on the St Clair to St Kilda beach area? The DCC has posted an online forum to ask the community "what matters most" about this area that right now looks like remnants from a war zone thanks to construction of that ludicrous sea wall. While the DCC is famous for filing community thoughts, feelings and feedback into file 13, lets give them the benefit of the doubt here, aye? The Coastal Plan info can be found right here. Good luck!
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