Back in the morning program at Bondi after a few weeks off the tools. I take thousands of photographs every year. Same tides, same paths, same light if I let it be. Breaking routine — travelling — shakes the dust off. You come home sharper. Fresher. Seeing your own backyard like it’s new again.
But this return has been heavy.
With the recent shark attacks (4 in 48 hours), the water feels eerily quiet. A strange stillness hangs over the bay. What happened is just impossible to process. Our hearts go out to the Antic family — Nico a local boy with North Bondi SLSC, absolutely tragic. Our own boys jump off that rock all the time. It’s just what kids do around here. Heartbreaking.
I’ve never loved surfing or swimming in the harbour. The ocean feels safer to me. The harbour? That place gives me the creeps. Always has.
This morning’s conditions aren’t playing nice either. Too big. Too straight. That familiar Bondi theme when it doesn’t quite line up. The beach itself feels sleepy — very few people around. Are we all back at work? Or still recovering from a big long weekend?
Sunday was heaving. Packed footpaths, reflecto sunnies, baby oil, full sand. Yet the cooler public holiday felt subdued, almost restrained.
— uge
