My seaside suburb once had a whimsical name. Then it was given a posh rebrand

Outsiders to my suburb may scoff at its house prices and the name tying it to a royal residence. They may see it as a sleepy and stuffy place with mostly well-heeled residents pushing 65 and over. Somewhere stuck at the end of the train line. But this isn’t the reality for life in the place that we affectionately call “Sandy”.

OK, I concede there is a bit of pomp about it. Sandringham was named after the then Prince of Wales’ house in Norfolk. In honour of the late Queen Elizabeth II, you might find a few low-tummed corgis (though far outnumbered by cavoodles) enjoying street walks and beach dashes by the harbour. There’s even Royal Avenue that connects Beach and Bluff roads. Halfway along, there is a house that was home to an eminent Australian family, the Hawkes, before their move to The Lodge in 1983.

I live here because of my family’s happy connection to the place, our community, the village, birds, open parks, heathland and coastal environs. It’s a great place to get involved in community activities or simply be.

With a vast foreshore and cliffs down to the moody bay, Sandringham is probably best known to outsiders for its summer vibes. The warm months bring a horde of floating bathers, polarising jet-skiers, hikers and paddleboarders. They fill the local cafes, pubs and bars. Beachgoers often pause at what may be the suburb’s best-known landmark, the concrete band rotunda, built in 1926.

While there is less music played at the rotunda these days, vibe-seekers can still find live music in the village, at the pubs, bars and even on the street. Those who prefer a quiet moment can meander and discover the unique street art and murals, such as a sea goddess, a vulnerable turtle and the dogs of Sandy (thank you to the Sandy Street Art Project).

My favourite time in Sandy is possibly dusk. Beyond the cloud-scraping date palms, the hot sun sinks into seawater, an Insta-worthy moment that rivals a tropical sunset. Locals and visitors can take advantage of restaurants dotted around the village offering fare from around the world. Despite being spoilt for choice, many locals join me in lament for the recent and permanent closure of the hot chicken shop.

Inspiration is rich for lovers of sport, art, nature and history. Australia’s beloved King of Spin is celebrated at what was in 2023 renamed as the Shane Warne Oval. It was here on Duncan Street where Warnie’s passion grew when he played for East Sandringham.

In a fortuitous Sandringham connection, Bob Hawke, our cricket-mad former prime minister, taught a young Warne how to bowl leg spinners on his tennis court. It sounds like urban legend, but Warne spent a great deal of his childhood playing around on that grass while his mother worked as a cleaner in the Hawke house. The cricketer and PM remained close long afterwards, as did Hazel Hawke and Warne’s mum.

The sporting connections run deep in Sandy, whether it’s football, netball and soccer across the sports fields and hubs, or the weekend cyclists. Many other legends have played at Shane Warne Oval, including AFL captains Jobe Watson and Josh Kennedy, as well as Brownlow medallist Chris Judd, who were all members of the East Sandringham Junior Football Club.

For less formal activities, there’s the sand and fun of the beach. At the Edward Street ramp, there’s a gravity that propels wannabe champions down to the sand, so that hours later, calls for “home time” by parents are flatly refused.

Shane Warne made a brief cameo for the East Sandringham Boys Club in 2008.Credit: Michael Clayton-Jones

If you’re feeling grateful for this salty heaven, a prayer to Mary MacKillop is in order. Australia’s first Catholic saint had her own connections to Sandy – close to death in 1892, she recuperated by the sea at Ellesmere on Bridge Street.

The seaside is a remedy. In the Indigenous Resource Garden you’ll find the late Guy Boyd’s cast bronze sculpture The Swimmer, which serenely conveys physical strength and a lyrical beauty. As a child, I thought it odd to see this lady in bathers, cold and curvy. Now I can appreciate her burnished figure that glistens, even more alive in the rain. Poised with surrounding arms and downward gaze since 1988 (the same year of Boyd’s sudden death), she welcomes visitors to linger on the busy street corner.

I’m curious about my suburb’s past, its place now and in the future. A walk along the Bayside Indigenous Coastal Trail of art and story-telling is one way I celebrate the culture of the Boon Wurrung people. Locals and visitors are welcome to a well-resourced library, Sandybeach Community Centre and the Sandringham and District Historical Society.

Before my suburb was renamed after a royal estate in the 1880s, it was called The Gipsy Village for more than 30 years after a local fishing community. This precinct remains, in the north-west corner near Picnic Point and the sailing clubs, a direct link to Victorian and Edwardian periods with charming homes. It’s easy to picture horse-drawn carts delivering milk and bread around Queens Square.

Sandy village, like much of Melbourne, has been growing upward in recent years, and not all the housing developments have been appropriate for the community. Beach Road dwellings are a mix of contemporary designs with a primary focus on capitalising their sea views. But you won’t find any sign of the Big Build sky rail around here – only the original 1887 train station with its nearby 1915 heritage signal box, no longer functional, but a nod to the Victorian era.

My grandpa returned from World War II, reunited with Grandma, and they built their family life and a modest red clinker brick home in Sandringham that still stands in a street lined with flowering gums, just around the corner from where I now live. In earlier times, returning World War I soldiers recovered from illness right on the beachfront in an ornate, imposing building that is now the site of The Sandy Hotel.

These days I’m grateful for the essential services that are right in the heart of my suburb. There’s Sandringham hospital providing around-the-clock emergency care and the Bayside police station with an impressive, open design that makes locals feel connected to the work of the officers.

Sandringham may sound posh, but the community is down to earth. Genuine people who contribute to a vibrant place, making this a special suburb.

Caroline Baker is a speech pathologist and lives in Sandringham with her family.

The Opinion newsletter is a weekly wrap of views that will challenge, champion and inform your own. Sign up here.