The "coastal walking track" is not really a defined track; more a line on a map, following at first the streets of Bermagui, then paralleling the Bermagui-Tathra road, ducking in at a number of points along dirt roads and walking paths, and along sections of beach before ending 8 km south of Bermagui at Cuttagee Beach. It does however, pass along some splendid coastal forest, with gaps and the odd lookout, such as at Jerimbut Point, that reveal glimpses of the incredible orange -coloured line of cliffs south of Bermagui.

Near Baragoot Point, it passed through a dense thicket of sweet pittosporum and acacias, before rejoining a bridge to cross Baragoot Lake. From here it entered a small coastal fragment of Biamanga National Park preserving a forest of paperbarks, coastal banksias and eucalypts, before re-emerging in the middle of 3 km long Baragoot Beach.

The track crossed the bridge over Cuttagee Lake before dropping back onto the sand and ending at the southern end of Cuttagee Beach. Here we decided for the first time to follow the main road around a headland, as we had been warned of disputes over access to beaches with some of the private properties in this area. However, after 2 km we were able to leave it again and follow a dirt road towards the coastline before picking up a walking track that descended steeply to secluded Armond's Beach, where we stopped for lunch.

A sign advised that this was a nude bathing beach; we don't find this offensive, but nude beachworm collecting is something else. We ate quickly and left as our collector bent over to extract yet another beachworm from the sand!

When we reached the end of Murrah Beach and stopped to put on our footwear again, we were joined by a new travelling companion, a boxer whom we called "Dog". Dog accompanied us through the paddocks of Goelan Head as we followed vague wheel tracks in the dense kikuyu. He followed us down on to the northern end of Bunga Beach and only when we climbed up the dunes to cross a barbed wire fence and pick up a narrow grassy road did he leave. I suspect that Dog was just seeing us off the property, but he did so very politely and we enjoyed his company.

The track that we had taken paralleled the beach for a kilometre and crossed into the Mimosa Rocks National Park, before opening out on to one of those scenes that soothes the tired spirit of those who have carried a heavy pack for 19 km - a large grassy opening with an old fisherman's hut, complete with fireplace, outdoor loo and water tank, overlooking the beautiful southern part of Bunga Beach and the imposing cliffs of Bunga Head. A track behind the hut led up magical Hidden Valley, where a mob of kangaroos grazed in a clearing in the late afternoon light.

We set up our gear in the shelter of the hut, set a fire with driftwood from the beach and pitched our tent on the dense mat of kikuyu - the extra padding of the grass promising a much more comfortable night than the wooden floor of the hut. As we ate our dinner at sunset, a group of five sea eagles flew in from a day's hunting and disappeared up Hidden Valley to their roost. It seemed that our totem was checking that all was well with us. It was - out to sea, lightning forked occasionally and silently from a distant thunderstorm, while above us the night sky was crystal clear and with a new moon the stars were brilliant. We slept well - it had been a long hard day and we were pleased with what we had done.

We made a quick detour along a boardwalk put in by the National Park that led a quiet boulder beach looking out on to the impressive silhouette of Mimosa Rocks. Passing through the Aragunnu camping area revived pleasant memories of time spent here last Christmas.

Here again we were blocked by another sheer wall of rock and, knowing from the ranger that a sea cave blocked a later section, we decided to head deeper inland and not return to the shore until well clear of such obstacles.

Our legs well-scratched already from the first push through dense heath, we zipped on the long legs of our shorts and headed upward, picking our way across an uneven surface where rocks were hidden by deep litter, and the dead branches of paperbarks and casuarinas and thickets of sweet pittosporum or low banksias tried to deny all forward progress. It took three hours to travel two kilometres through this terrain, over two ridges and two creek beds, before the third creek led us back out onto a small beach.

The rugged beauty of the coastal rocks and the beautiful mossy creek beds, where frogs serenaded us and orchids clung to the rocks, went entirely unappreciated. It is marvellous how 22 kg on your back in a dense scrub can focus the mind on the singular obsession of getting to the other end - we learnt the meaning of stoic. I could imagine the South Coast saying "you think you are so tough getting this far - I could stop you at any time!"

..... to the beach at last

Once back on the beach it was a quick stroll along the sand with a couple of easy rock scrambles to reach Picnic Point camping ground - we had taken 6 hours to walk 8 km! Now we had to decide whether to push on across Bithry Inlet to our original destination of Middle Beach or set up camp here and have a swim and revive. The ocean water was cold but invigorating and we felt better already. Our appreciation in hindsight of the rugged beauty of the rocks and bush through which we had just passed was growing.

There is a difference between a tough day, when you think "well, that was hard but I enjoyed it" and a very tough day when you think "what the hell am I doing this for!" Today we had had a very tough day, but we made it, and the stars that night were just as beautiful as before.

It was just after high tide and already there was a strong tidal flow heading out to sea through the line of breakers at the entrance. Setting up our packs and getting the air mattress ready as described in earlier stages, we decided that two heavy packs on a single air mattress could be a bit unbalanced and one trip for each pack would be preferable. The art then became to pick the right starting point, so that, as we swam the packs across, the tidal flow would sweep us around onto the sand spit.

The first passage worked perfectly, a few stingrays scooting away on the sand beneath as we paddled our first pack across in a large sweeping curve. However, on our return, the tide pulled us into an arc heading towards the line of breakers at the entrance, cause for a minor adrenalin rush. Fortunately, we found the bottom and waded out just before this point. As we walked back to our second pack, 200 m back along the northern shore, we mused on what people would have made of it if we had been swept out to sea, leaving only one pack on one side of the inlet and another pack on the opposite side - another mystery like that of Mystery Bay, perhaps? Finally, to our great relief, we made our third crossing without a hitch, successfully transporting all our gear to the southern shore of the inlet.

The track emerged at the broad sand bar blocking the lagoon from the sea and we continued south down the broad expanse of Middle and Gillard's Beaches past a series of sandstone rock formations in every hue from white to orange. A small dark chocolate sandstone promontory, passable only at low tide, separated Gillard's from Cowdroy's Beach, and we wandered down this beach, eyes fixed on the superb pink, white and gold sandstone cliffs of Baronta Head, growing ever larger. A group of surfers were getting some very nice rides in the azure waters in front of the cliffs - what a brilliant backdrop for a good days surfing.

To the left of the headland lay the narrow gap that marked our passage through to the northern shore of Nelson Lagoon. Happily, it was now low tide.

Surveying the lagoon for a crossing point, we chanced across Phil and Nathalie returning from an overnight camping trip at Cowdroy's Beach. They showed us the best spot to cross, which involved a long wade across a shallow section, a walk across a soft sand bar and a short swim with our packs on the air mattress across the main channel; much easier than Bithry.

The climb out of the southern end of Moon Bay was not as steep, following a long gully and gradually climbing up to a timbered spur that ran behind Mogareeka Inlet. Following our 2001 edition of the topographic map and our GPS explicitly, we followed a marked road down to Mogareeka town, right through the backyard gate of a house and out the front drive!! (note: mapping information is generally very good, but don't always rely on it).

Mogareeka Inlet

Tathra - what better place to revive after the 3-day crossing of Mimosa Rocks

Rounding the north shore of Mogareeka Inlet, we crossed to the other side on the main road bridge before picking up a bicycle path that led us to our cabin accommodation for the night adjacent to Tathra Beach. As a reward for completing the crossing of Mimosa Rocks, we spent the next two days being normal coastal tourists; sleeping in, reading a good book, having an early morning surf on beautiful Tathra Beach, treating ourselves to a roast lunch at the Tathra Pub with Phil and Nathalie, our fellow lagoon waders, watching the fishermen on the old Tathra wharf and the manta rays beneath it, flying a kite and generally relaxing in the pleasant autumn sunshine.

Tathra Beach

Tathra pub

Although it has undergone considerable development in recent years, Tathra has not yet lost its small town charm and, with its great beach and surrounding coastline, has to be one of the top spots on the south coast.