Berowra Creek Paddle   Apr 2026

The canoes pushed out into the deep(ish), still reaches of Berowra Creek, where the steep sandstone cliffs and dense bushland made the rest of the world disappear. There’s a specific kind of focus that takes over when the tide is working against you—the grit to keep the bow pointed straight while the sheer scale of the valley humbles everything else.

The only sound that filled the morning was the rhythmic splashing of paddles hitting the water. Navigating the bends in the creek required a combination of power and a bit of trial and error, especially if the wind picked up. Between the calls echoing across the water and the occasional close encounter with the mangroves, the experience became a genuine test of teamwork.

As the afternoon wore on, the focus started to shift. Some, clearly tired of the restricted sitting position and the repetitive rhythm of the journey back, decided the quiet was a bit too peaceful.

What started as a stray splash quickly escalated into a lighthearted campaign of torment. Paddles became makeshift catapults, and the "accidental" bumping of hulls turned into a tactical game of watery tag. It was the perfect, chaotic end to the day—shaking off the fatigue with a bit of mischief and ensuring that while everyone left with sore arms, they also left completely soaked and laughing.

Thank you, everyone, for another wonderful day.