The views and angles from the end of the breakwater are amazing. Straight 
across, to the wrecks encased within the breakwall on the Stockton side of the channel, and on to the pines standing tall on the way to Fern Bay.
Kooragang works reminds us of smokestacks past, while the prehensile limbs of loaders pump the black coal into the ready holds of red and black colliers. They sit lower and lower in the water until they are hustled, prodded and pushed: then steaming outward away from the tugs’ insistent coddling.
Grain elevators dwarf juice containers. Bullock Island: a destination for farmers frustrated by rail strikes, trucking their own wheat to the dockside.
Beyond Muloobinba, the floating dock, the harbour becomes a mix of fishing fleet and pleasure marina: overshadowed by the opulence of fast ocean ketch, ‘Squall’ high on the slips.
We pause in our bike ride, looking back across the remains of Nobbys, trying to imagine what it looked like before they lopped the top off. The dunes have shifted, and there are old trail tracks exposed in the sand. All around are both memories and fresh hope.
The wind will be at our backs as we ride up Throsby Creek. Just as well, as it’s already very warm.
This is one of my favourite places in Newcastle. I love to bring visitors from out of town, or overseas to walk along here. We really are spoiled.