3. Gonubie to Kei Mouth
30 May 1989 - 31 May 1989
3. Gonubie to Kei Mouth
30 May 1989 - 31 May 1989
A Solitary Journey
This hike took place during one of the darkest and most testing periods of my life. Margie, the mother of my two boys, had finally moved out of the house in Gonubie, and she and the boys were now staying on her brother Norman’s farm: Commandofontein, near Adelaide. With the boys out of reach and the house left barren - no curtains, no stove, no fridge, and no hope- I felt utterly lost. In desperation, I packed my brown sleeping bag and set off for Kei Mouth late in the afternoon. Struggle must meet struggle. If only for perspective sake.
Crossing the Gonubie River was much easier than it had been three months earlier during the Surfers Marathon; this time, I didn’t even have to swim. I made my way to Kwelegha Mouth as the sun sank below the horizon, painting the sky with its fading light. By the time I reached the river mouth, darkness had fallen. Fear gripped me as I waded waist-deep through the dark water, feeling the chill and the unknown all around me. Once across, I slipped quietly into Yellow Sands Resort. Like a thief in the night, I scouted for a hidden spot to sleep among the cottages and park homes. No one noticed me, and before the first rays of sunlight broke the sky, I was already back on the beach, heading toward Glen Garriff—the place where my hike with Darryl had ended two years earlier.
I was in peak physical condition at the time, thanks to my frequent runs during that tumultuous period of my life. The familiar landmarks from my previous hike helped guide me as I passed Glen Muir and then onto miles of firm beach sand that stretched endlessly ahead. Bosbokstrand came and went, its rivers and estuaries now dry and easy to traverse. The walking was effortless, yet my heart was beset with heavy memories.
By midday, I arrived at the spot where Darryl and I had once camped. Sitting down, the weight of everything I had been holding back overwhelmed me, and I broke down in tears. I sobbed for a long time, releasing the pain and emptiness I felt. I had no plan for this journey, no clear idea of how I would get home, and in truth, I didn’t care. I felt utterly hollow and directionless.
Eventually, I forced myself to continue, reaching Double Mouth and remembering the fierce battle Darryl and I had faced crossing that river. Now, it was low tide, and the crossing was effortless. The path led me through the deserted caravan park and up the steep road to the cliffs of Morgan Bay. At the hotel, I paused again, staring at the swing - every single thing seemed significant at a time when I felt the least so. The seed of this thought landed, but surely it has taken time to flourish… After pausing for a long moment, I pressed on to Kei Mouth, choosing this time to take the vehicle road past the golf course instead of the coastline.
Exhaustion from the constant walking began to set in, and as I entered the newly built clubhouse, I was stunned to find Michael Putzier—Hester’s old school boyfriend—there, playing golf. He welcomed me warmly and invited me to his farm for the night. That evening, I rested at his home, grateful for his unexpected kindness. The next day, he insisted on driving me back to Gonubie, ending my far from aimless journey. Looking back like this I can see the hints of Cosmic Kindness everywhere. A surprise kindness. At a time when I was looking for proof that the world is kind afterall - that amid the unrest of my turbulent spirit, there is a Rhythm to this thing after all. An intermittent kindness that becomes dependable.
A consideration of all that was lost, all that could yet be lost, and everything that was mine already. Perspective. The ocean gave me perspective. Those wet winds were dense enough to push aside some of my loudest thoughts and give me this: Clarity. Of all that was lost, all that could yet be lost, and all that was mine already.
I returned to the same empty house I had left two days earlier. Yet, this time, the echo of my footsteps in the empty rooms and the pervasive silence didn’t feel as unbearable. Something within me had shifted.
