Newcastle Ocean Baths: Could this be the Dawn Patrol’s last summer?
Meet the eclectic group of Novacastrians who are up before the crack of dawn and bathing in these tranquil waters — but it might just be their last summer as the renovators move in.
Newcastle
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The morning sun is yet to poke its head out from beneath the eastern horizon, but there’s a flurry of activity down by the sea.
The group congregating at the historic Newcastle Ocean Baths on this brisk summer morning aren’t an elite squad of swimmers with hopes of future Olympic glory but they do deserve a gold medal for commitment.
They call themselves the “dawn patrol”.
The posse of early-rising regulars – men and women ranging in age from 50 to 80 years old and beyond – religiously make their way to the water’s edge each morning. Some will swim laps while others will be content to just bathe in the therapeutic waters before starting their day.
If you stick around long enough, like clockwork, you’ll soon realise there’s a similar group for every hour from 4am to midmorning.
Everybody and everything is laid bare.
It’s a beautiful melting pot of people from all walks of life and when they’re in that water, they have no inhibitions about who they are or what they look like.
Some are still top professionals in their field – doctors, lawyers, accountants – while others are long retired and use the morning splash to keep their joints ticking over. They all have one thing in common: the love of stimulation through conversation.
Not a morning goes by where all the troubles of the world aren’t solved. But sadly, their sacred meeting place will soon be off-limits.
Next month, Newcastle Council’s $9.5m restorations of the pool and promenades will get underway, closing the 109-year-old structure for 18 months.
Everyone is now savouring every last swim before their beloved, ageing water hangout becomes a distant memory, and the morning sun casts its rays over a new dawn.
THE LAWYER
Peter Kilmurray is a prominent Newcastle lawyer. The fact he lives just seven minutes from the baths doesn’t mean he swans down at any old tick of the clock. Calling him regimented would be an understatement.
Every day, as he has done for the past 36 years, Kilmurray walks his lanky frame down the promenade before 4am, throws his goggles on and dives off the eastern blocks to start his regular 2km swim.
With the solitude and peace the hour affords – and a day fast approaching that will be spent at full throttle, one might think the last thing on his mind would be his high-pressured job.
Guess again.
“A lot of times you’re doing laps, you solve problems that you didn’t get the chance to solve the day before at the office, and all of a sudden it just starts to fall into place. It gives you time to think,” Kilmurray says.
As the odd helicopter flies over to attend to one of the many cargo ships sitting outside Newcastle Harbour, more regulars turn up. All with the same beach towel, same thongs, and walking the same path they did the day before.
“We are all creatures of habit,” the veteran lawyer says.
“If you put a blindfold on me and you ask me what is so and so going to do? I can tell you where he’s going to go, what he’s going to do, where he’s going to get in and how many laps he’s going to do.”
Over the years there have been plenty of sights which have taken his attention away from his freestyle.
“I’ve seen a lot of things, especially on Thursdays which sometimes is a bit of an adventure morning for the university students because Wednesday nights are their big nights,” he says.
“The ones from the Nordic countries usually like an early morning swim. They don’t take their swimmers and that doesn’t bother them; doesn’t bother us either mind you.”
THE RETIRED TEACHER
Ava Davidson has been frequenting the baths for 60 years.
The retired schoolteacher remembers when her mother used to take her swimming after school, a ritual that stuck and saw her love for the pool become an obsession.
“There’s so much to love about these baths,” Davidson says.
“You can put your goggles on and see the fish. It’s like you’re swimming in the ocean but you’re in a pool.”
Recently the 65-year-old moved to Diamond Beach on the NSW Mid-North Coast where she purchased a house.
It’s a beautiful part of the state, but something pulled her back to her old haunt.
“To be truthful I really missed the baths that much, I had to come back. I now rent an apartment in Newcastle East just so I can still go to the pool every day,” she says.
The return has also spawned a new love.
Not a visit goes by without the former educator taking out her camera and capturing the beauty of the pool in all its glory.
She started to upload the stunning photos online and her friends couldn’t get enough.
“All the girls I swim with urged me to put my name on them and suggested I make a calendar of the baths. I was hesitant at first but I went ahead,” Davidson says.
The first run of 100 copies sold out at the pool’s kiosk within weeks. Word of mouth is a wonderful thing. Now the calendars are wanted all over Australia, while her coffee mug collection, with her photos emblazoned on the side, is also running off the digital shelf.
The accidental businesswoman is sad about the imminent closure of the baths, but believes it is the catalyst for expansion.
“I’d love to do more photography at ocean baths and rock pools all the way up and down the coast of NSW. There are so many hidden gems,” she says.
THE LARRIKIN
Lance Fraser is one popular man.
The 86-year-old greets everyone with his signature smile as he slowly pushes his walker towards his favourite pool entrance.
His ageing frame is covered by leathery brown skin, weathered by so many years in the sun. Shuffling towards the water, one foot goes in, then the other, before he quickly submerges into the dark blue waters.
Fraser retired from the workforce 20 years ago, but not from the pool.
Four times a week he drives his trusty Toyota Corolla 15km to the baths and pulls up right on the dot of 6am.
Apart from a few aches and pains, Fraser has never felt better.
The pool is by no means a fountain of youth, but Fraser knows how important it is just to be active – not just in body, but also in mind.
“There’s nothing like the feel of the cold water hitting your body. You know you’re alive,” he says.
“I walk and talk with friends. Nothing is off limits,” he continues, as he flashes his trademark smile.
“Religion, politics, sport. We chat about the state of the nation. Look at the pretty girls that go by. You’ll be walking and someone would yell ‘starboard’.”
“Everyone loves Lance,” booms an unidentified voice in the background. “Even though he swims at the other joint as well.”
The “other joint” is Merewether Ocean Baths, the area’s second ocean pool offering.
It’s difficult to explain the rivalry between this north and south divide.
It’s an ongoing war of words over who has the best pool; one should never enter the waters of the enemy.
Testimony to how well Fraser is liked is the fact he came to the Newcastle facility back in 2014 from the “other side of the tracks”, when Merewether was shut down due to renovations of its own.
His initiation on his first day at Newie wasn’t easy. “The mugs gave me the cold shoulder,” he laughs. “They knew I swam down the road. We’re all good friends now though. We’re too old to fight. We haven’t the strength to hit anyone anyway.”
The truce doesn’t stop the larrikin in Fraser though.
“I still wear my Merewether budgie smugglers sometimes to stir them up. But they threatened to dack me and throw them (bathers) in the middle of the pool. The last thing anyone would want is to see an 86-year-old bum duck-diving to get my swimmers.”
Fraser and his group of buddies know once the bulldozers roar to life in March, things will never be quite the same.
The unique open-air changerooms, which were able to continue to be used through Covid, will be knocked down.
The gravel paths that have been worn down by decades of foot traffic will be ripped up and the shade sails that shielded swimmers from the harsh summer rays will be torn down.
Change is on its way whether the old boys like it or not.
“We sit around near the changerooms now and we have bets on who’ll still be around when it reopens,” Fraser says.
“Let’s hope this isn’t our last summer.”