Empty Waves at the Edge of the World


Photos by Nick Green, words by Oscar Wyatt

I’ve always felt a strong connection to untouched places.

To be able to look into a vast landscape and observe no presence of humankind is a novelty a lot of the people on this earth will never experience. Having that empty space out in front of you strips back the presence of societal ideals and leaves you with a greater sense of self… this is especially the case when you’re with your best mates looking upon an extremely remote reef break, offshore and four to six foot.

I was fortunate enough to grow up spending weeks at a time with my old man around the south-western corner of Tasmania whilst he was working as a cray fisherman. Over the years, I observed the untouched and wild coastline with wide eyes as it etched its way into my mind, until it was all I could think about back on shore; the pristine beaches, the vast amounts of wildlife, and all those perfect waves rolling into bays and over reefs going un-surfed and un-appreciated.

With the better part of 2020 being pretty slow-going, my mind drifted away into those untouched places whilst I was stuck indoors doing my bit. With all that time to think and reflect, I put a plan into motion that would end up being the trip of a lifetime for myself and nine of my best mates. The plan was simple; pile the boat up with stores, cold beers and surfboards, and head around to the south-west world heritage area in search of uncrowded waves, untouched wilderness and a sense of space.

With a gap in the September westerlies, we set out from port on a sunny Friday afternoon with the boat packed to the rafters, frothing for an adventure and ready for a break from society. With the compass pointing south, we eventually arrived at the bottom of Australia at a cape called Whale Head.

As we found ourselves rounding the cape, we started to lose sight of the houses and farmlands dotted along the coastline to the north, and the untouched southern coastline of Tasmania came into view. At that moment, the bars of reception dropped out leaving our phones redundant and the rest of civilization a world away. With the raw and battered coastline on our right and the power of the southern ocean to our left, we steamed into the wilderness and I watched my mates eyes grow wider in awe of the land that I’d always known as a kid.

With nothing but endless potential for exploration in front of us, the perception of the world we’d always known got left behind and all we were left with was an innate feeling of pure freedom and exhilaration. Falling off the edge of the earth towards the time of our lives with nothing but our best mates, cold beers, uncrowded waves and the right kind of isolation.

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