New South Wales surf safari

THERE'S beauty, adventure and the odd celebrity to be found in the swells on this awesome Aussie surf safari.

Port Macquarie

YOU know that nagging feeling you've seen someone before?

There I was all covered in zinc cream, looking a treat in the ultra-tight rashie and extra-vibrant boardshorts, long board under my arm and there's this bloke...

He was just coming in from a blown-out swell at a place called Scott's Point on the New South Wales north coast. He has sunscreen smeared all over his face, his eyes are bloodshot from the salt but there's no mistaking him. Bloody hell, it's Bryan Brown, actor and apparent surfer.

"G'day Bryan. How was it?" I said as any cool-as-you-like surfer dude.

"Mate," he replied as he swept past, head dipped to avoid eye contact and hurrying to get away from this weirdo in the orange-blue-and-white boardies.

It wasn't our intention to go star-spotting but it was that kind of trip, discoveries everywhere.

The sole intention of the trip was to create holiday memories with a teenager who would soon be doing this sort of thing with his mates rather than us.

The agenda was to visit all those beachside towns signposted on the Pacific Highway that you normally see as a blur.

They have evocative names such as Old Bar, Scott's Head, Treachery Point, Diamond Beach, One Mile and Samurai.

And there were some with names you'd prefer not so poetic: Black Head, for instance. Who would call a town after a skin condition?

The rest of the rules would be made up as we went along, so no bookings, no plans, two surfers and a devoted mum as travel director.

Hours of glassy surf

Nelson Bay could aptly be described as the home of boring. I know this because I went there as a 16-year-old 30 years ago with my parents and thought the place could bore at Olympic level.

But it is beautiful. Zenith Beach, a short drive from town, is a must-see even if it is to confirm that Australia can do Mediterranean beaches.

Further south, One Mile is equally stunning and uncrowded and presented us with hours of glassy surf.

Around the corner was Stockton, a 30km stretch of beach that yells drama from its southern end where someone a few years ago tried to park the Pasha Bulker cargo ship to the north where there is terrific surf and an other-world series of sand dunes that virtually scream out to have their photograph taken.

When the surf dropped we tried parasailing, a more pleasant term than what it actually is: being hauled behind a speedboat in a parachute 30 metres in the air and watching a shark follow you. It occurred to me, as I swayed in the breeze and panicked at every twang of the steel tow cable, that the shark may have learnt to follow the parachute for a feed.

A place I find hard to leave

Further north was the lure of Forster Tuncurry, which acts as a magnet for Sydneysiders and for that reason I was keen to avoid it.

However, on its outskirts is Pacific Palms with Boomerang and Blueys Beach ranking as two of the best beaches on the coast and without the crowds. It would be easy to loose a week there.

We pushed on through to Port Macquarie, the family home and a place I find hard to leave. Town Beach, Flynns, Lighthouse… all great beaches in a town that has a city hustle. I learnt to surf here as a child. Lost layers of skin to sunburn and almost drowned at Bonny Hills.

Just north of Port Macquarie is South West Rocks, a real discovery for us. It probably hasn't seen surf this century but it's remarkably pretty with a small, safe town beach and sweeping bay leading out to the ruins of Trial Bay jail, which would not have been too tough a place to be shackled for a few years.

The lighthouse on its headland is worth a look purely for the view.

South West Rocks is renowned as a scuba divers' town and my wife and the teenager enrolled for a dive with grey nurse sharks that they still talk about.

The teenager loved it so much we stayed another three days so he could complete a divers' course which included a cave dive. I'm sure the memory of joy is embedded, if not in his mind, certainly in ours.

Encounter with a great white shark

Just north of Coffs Harbour we found Scott Dillon, a short, 81-year-old bloke who is a legend of surfing, just ask him.

Dillon, who now runs a surf museum, doesn't mind reliving his life for you and there was a moment where I felt like Bryan. I should have put my head down and walked away, but Dillon was there at the start of surfing in Australia and he deserves a little respect.

His memorabilia is extensive, so too is his ability to drop names of some of the greats. But as he explains, they're just mates to him.

He can tell you of his encounter with a massive great white shark off Bondi, 15m waves he surfed in Hawaii and a crocodile in Sri Lanka.

The hard part will be getting away from Dillon and his stories and theories.

We found Dillon the same way we found Emerald Beach – pure luck.

As the name suggests it's a gem. Wedged between Coffs Harbour (worth missing, crowded breaks and aggressive surfers) and Woolgoolga, is the kind of place that's hard to believe.

It's a small village that developers have left alone. The only accommodation is a caravan park which has great two-bedroom, airconditioned cabins with spa and ensuite.

The beach is patrolled by a mob of kangaroos that laze about on the headland barely noticing the surfers who trudge past within a few metres of them.

If you go over the headland there's another carbon-copy beach equally deserted and beautiful. Over that headland was another.

We stayed a few days but could have stayed more. The trip ended as a success. We had memories, all of them good. They'll last a lot longer than the bills.