Nature on the South Coast Train

Ellie Stephenson reflects on her commute.

I am blessed with an hour and a half long train trip when commuting to work and uni. Consequently, I’ve become extremely familiar with the South Coast line and its quirks: the way we sometimes, infuriatingly, stop at Oatley; the fragile hush of the quiet carriage; the crawling pace of the train just before Redfern. 

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I’ll be honest. I don’t love spending over 3 hours a day on public transport, but there are some undeniable benefits: the views. I spend a good portion of my commute peering out the window. The train to Sydney ends up providing unexpected but delightful glimpses into the natural world.

The most exciting sight, albeit a rare one, is whales. During the months where whales travel the coast, I make sure to sit on the upstairs right hand side of the train, as that’s where you can spot them. As the train snakes through the northern suburbs of Wollongong, perching on the side of the escarpment, you can watch the expanse of the Pacific Ocean carefully. Sometimes a spout of water sets your heart racing, or if you’re really lucky, a breach. Looking for large bubbles can help you know where to watch. You’ll typically be seeing Southern Right Whales or Humpback Whales. 

A more reliable wildlife-spotting experience can be gained as you cross the Georges River. Sit upstairs on the left hand side of the train, and, if the light is right, you can see pale pink jellyfish bobbing in the water. The River is an estuarine river, tidal and salty, which opens into Botany Bay. 

The Cook River also empties into Botany Bay, and when you cross it at Tempe, you can see mangroves lining its bank. These are grey mangroves, Avicennia marina, which provide shelter for waterbirds, mudcrabs and fish. They use pneumatophores - snorkel-like aerial roots - to breathe in their waterlogged environment. My favourite thing about mangroves is that they germinate their seeds on the tree before they detach and float into the world, ready to take root - this is called vivipary. You can think of it like giving birth to live young; mangroves are the mammals of the plant world. 

You’ll also spot Fatima Island, the last island in the river, which is gradually washing away thanks to king tides and boat wash. It is a small mudflat which was once protected by convict-made sandstone blocks. According to the Cooks River Valley Association, the name comes from a Catholic pilgrimage for Our Lady of Fatima on the banks of the Cook River in 1951. It used to be decorated at Christmas and also provides habitat to local birds. Over the last decade, residents have campaigned to save the island from becoming submerged. 

Gymea Lily, Doryanthes excelsa

Gymea Lily, Doryanthes excelsa

Another reminder of community efforts to secure heritage can be seen earlier in the trip, at Thirroul Station. You’ll see the Thirroul Railway Institute on the western side of the track. When Thirroul became a busy rail depot around 1920, the Railway Institute was established to educate railway employees in technical subjects, provide women with secretarial and dressmaking courses, and offer a library for members. It hosted social events and political meetings. Eventually, by the 1970s, the Institute was used less frequently and needed repair. The Thirroul Railway Institute Preservation Society (TRIPS) was formed in 1991 to save the structure from demolition. In addition to heritage wood floors, a pendulum clock and a grand piano, it features walls adorned with antique union and guild posters and an original signed Gough Whitlam ‘It’s Time’ poster. 

One of the best sights of the journey is the flora. At the moment, the gymea lilies, Doryanthes excelsa, are in bloom. Their spears rise several metres above the ground before bursting into crimson flower. Just past Waterfall station, you’ll see NSW waratahs, Telopea speciosissima, which flower in spring. 

In the depths of the COVID-19 lockdown, I curiously found myself missing the South Coast line. The ride from Wollongong to Sydney is unique and scenic, a 90 minutes for which I’m full of affection.