Winter Day at Wangi Bay

The view hits me when I get to the top of the hill and look eastwards over the lake, especially on a clear, sunny day like today. I never get tired of looking at it, or of the surprise that I get every time I walk that way. It is especially great on those days when the sailing boats are out.

The first glimpse is through the trees, of patches of blue, deeper than the sky, and of parts of boats - spars and sails and masts. As I clear the brow of the hill, and walk down a little way to where the road turns off towards the lake, the view opens right up. Very few people would be unmoved by the beauty that lies unfolded before me.

Wangi is one of a whole series of bays along and around the deeply serrated shores of Lake Macquarie, south of Newcastle. Coming to it as I so often do, into the centre sweep of the bay, I can see it spread on either side of me, quite a regular circular shape, flattened a little where I am, and, directly opposite me, opening out into the lake proper. The waters here are sheltered from all but the north-easterly winds, so it is a popular mooring spot for craft of all kinds.

The land rises from the lake to low hills all around the bay, hills that would once have been heavily wooded, but which now hold a wide range of dwelling places. Tottering fishing shacks and old holiday houses rub shoulders with ordinary homes and luxurious multi-storeyed residences, but among them all are still plenty of trees, and the overall impression is one of greenness. This is especially true of the long Wangi Point along the southern end of the bay, which is still well wooded. The point extends well out into the lake, and the end of it is the closest point to Swansea on the other side, near to where the lake runs into the sea.

The southern side of the bay is also the most sheltered, and that is where most of the boats moor. There are sailing boats of all sizes and classes – single hulled and catamarans, motor cruisers and launches, as well as a few rectangular houseboats. As I walk along the concrete pathway that meanders along the lake shore, I see an assortment of upside-down dinghys and tenders, encircling and attached by chain or rope to the casuarina trees there. Quickly loosed from their tethers they are ready to take owners out to their moored craft, or to row around the bay. The pathway follows the shore from the Workers Club jetty at the northern end to the RSL Club jetty at the southern end; both jetties well used by visitors. Casuarina trees line the side of the path along the water, and on the landward side well-kept lawns, dotted with large eucalypts, rise towards the houses that extend along its whole length.

Looking out over the water on sailing club days or weekends and public holidays, an abundance of white sails can be seen, which seem to dance around each other in the bay and farther out into the lake. Several of them will be competing in club races, but many are out there for the sheer pleasure of sailing. As I stroll or stride along, enjoying my walk and exchanging greetings with fellow walkers and cyclists, I can also see local fishermen rowing or motoring out to their favourite fishing spot, and speedboats racing and showing off as they head out to the centre of the lake. A jet-ski (thankfully rare) roars and circles, throwing up a big wake and looking for attention, and a houseboat trundles quietly by. A dinghy races towards me, thud-thudding across the waves, while another sedately putt-putts its way from ship to shore. But the most beautiful sight is the sailing boats, under full sail and perhaps a colourful spinnaker, gliding – effortlessly it seems – over the water and catching every breath or gust of wind. The sight of one of these craft is beautiful, but when there are fifteen or twenty of them, all either tacking or sailing freely along, then the sight is truly magnificent.

Still walking along the pathway, I can see families of ducks grazing on the lawns and paddling in the water, long-legged herons and cranes stalking along in the shallows, large pelicans paddling along or skimming gracefully over the water, and shags and seagulls – the bane of any owner of a moored boat. Butcher birds and peewees, magpies and corellas, kookaburras and honeyeaters, crested pigeons and an occasional sea eagle – birds are everywhere.

When I get to the boat ramp I wander on up to the street back from the shore, to one of the shops there, for an ice-cream or cool drink – or I can buy a meal if I prefer. I come back then to sit at one of the benches or tables scattered along the way, and watch the comings and goings at the boat ramp. It is always interesting to see the boats being floated from their trailers, or being retrieved at the end of the day. I find myself evaluating. The boat – large, small or moderate in size and attachments. The vehicles that pull the trailers: small sedans – rare; utes or large sedans – common; and big four-wheel drives - the most common, especially when they are pulling a large flashy boat. And the owners: inexperienced or practiced, cheerful and exchanging friendly banter or curt and demanding; out to enjoy a day on the water or to show off a recent acquisition.

As the afternoon progresses, a single pelican takes up station near to the boat ramp, taking care to stay out of the way as boats return and trailers are reversed to pick them up. The pelican is the first of several that will stand guard as the afternoon wanes, waiting for the fishermen to return in their tinnies or their motor boats. There is a small bench there, where the fish they have caught are beheaded, scaled and cleaned. The pelicans aren’t going to risk missing out on this free feed!

One day, I will write about Wangi Bay on a dark and stormy day, because that has its own beauty, but right now I’m too relaxed, sitting here on the bench, soaking up the warm afternoon sun and enjoying the lake view.