A Waterhole's Timeless Embrace: 30 Years of Friendship and Healing in New South Wales
In the northern rivers of New South Wales, many waterholes remain concealed from public view, nestled within private lands where creeks meander unseen from roads. To discover the path to one such cherished spot, precise directions are essential, as the dense forest offers no clear line of sight. This secluded haven has been a sanctuary for a close-knit group of friends for over three decades, a place where troubles drift away downstream and life's marks are worn proudly on the skin.
A Hidden Oasis of Youth and Change
During her teenage years, the author, Jessie Cole, and her peers often lived on bushland properties with accessible waterways. Weekend sleepovers with a tight circle of girlfriends involved moving between homes and local creeks, each system unique and perpetually transformed by seasonal floods. Nothing remains static from one season to the next, yet amidst this flux, a favourite waterhole belonging to her longtime best friend stands out. Unlike Cole's own small, shady, and mysterious spot, this creek features a long, wide stretch of waterfront with a pebbled bank, a swing-rope, and an old cement staircase leading down to the water.
Approaching the site, the landscape gives little hint of the oasis within. Dry grass, watchful cows, and scattered farm machinery dot barren paddocks. As one drives towards a bridge, the creek suddenly reveals itself—an expanse of breeze-rippled water framed by overhanging trees. Crossing slowly, the sight prompts an involuntary exhale, a moment of pure relief. In earlier days, swimming occurred on the opposite side of the bridge, where the water ran deepest, echoing with the laughter of youth.
Raucous Gatherings and Ecstatic Relief
With her best friend being one of five siblings, visits to the creek always involved gangs of children. Activities ranged from daring jumps off the swing-rope into a haze of air-bubbles to leisurely floats in giant disused tractor inner-tubes, often ending in playful capsizing. The noise and laughter were consistently raucous, sometimes prompting the family's border collie, overcome with fear of missing out, to leap from the bank into the fray. Northern rivers summers, dense with heat and humidity, made movement a challenge, but a dip in the creek shattered the torpor. Emerging from the cool surface felt like a rebirth, sparking ecstatic relief and endless mirth. Afterwards, the group would lounge on the dappled bank, enjoying watermelon and conversation, sheltered from the blazing sun.
Reunion and Reflection Through the Years
Thirty years on, the best friend now lives interstate, but several times a year, the old crew converges at her family's creek. Despite being her ancestral home, it feels like a homecoming for all. As they reunite, the friends reflect on shared experiences—floods, droughts, births, and deaths—that have shaped their lives. When they strip off to swim, their bodies display a mix of scars and ordinary wear and tear, a bolstering testament to lives fully lived. Single file, they descend the off-kilter cement stairs and plonk into the water like turtles.
After cooling down, they swim to the shallows and lounge on the pebbly bank with legs submerged. The creek's silt clings to their skin, highlighting each tiny hair and giving them an animalistic appearance, reminiscent of primates gathering to natter in the cool. How long have humans congregated at this waterhole? As long as there has been water. Gazing at each other's faces—exposed after a dip, hair slicked back, and makeup-less—they recognise how, like the creek systems, they have all been rearranged by time. Ravaged yet still shining, they slip back in for another swim, treading water in the deep while smiling openly at one another.
Troubles Adrift in the Flow
In the creek, troubles come adrift, flowing away downstream as birds call, lizards scuttle, and dragonflies waft in the breeze. Time seems to still, with the gentle, hypnotic movements of treading water offering profound soothing. Occasionally, tears well up in their eyes, all that they have survived humming in the space between them, but the water holds even that emotion softly, carrying it tenderly with the flow. Soon, they climb into their cars and return to their lives, collecting their troubles along the way. Yet, in those moments gathered together, treading water, they feel light and free, embraced by a timeless sanctuary.
