Crossing the Bar

CROSSING THE BAR

Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;

For though from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.

written 1889 by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-1892)

(the illustration above was published in Punch magazine on 15 October 1892, nine days after Tennyson\’s death)

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Advice from Marine Safety Victoria:

What is a bar?

A bar is an accumulation of sand or silt at the entrance of a river, creek, lake or harbour.
Examples of bars located in Victorian waters are: Port Phillip Heads, Lakes Entrance, Patterson River, Anderson’s Inlet, Barwon Heads, McLaughlins Beach, Port Albert.

WHY ARE BARS DANGEROUS?

Conditions prevailing on a bar can cause steep and often breaking seas. For this reason it is important to take a number of precautions and manoeuvre the vessel with extreme caution.
Crossing a bar is a job for an experienced vessel handler.

EXERCISE EXTREME CAUTION

Conditions on a bar change quickly and without warning. The skipper’s experience and vessel type should be taken into account when a bar crossing is considered. No amount of experience or boat type makes crossing a bar safe when the conditions are marginal or adverse. No situation warrants taking the risk.

If In Doubt – Don’t Go Out. Once started, you are committed to crossing the bar.

Windswept autumnal day at Port Noarlunga

Port Noarlunga jetty

Great to view from the warmth and protection of the car whilst driving along the clifftop above Port Noarlunga.

Reminded me of Adam Lindsay Gordon’s poem, “The Swimmer” (final verses):

See! girt with tempest and wing’d with thunder,
And clad with lightning and shod with sleet,
The strong winds treading the swift waves sunder
The flying rollers with frothy feet.
One gleam like a bloodshot sword-blade swims on
The sky-line, staining the green gulf crimson,
A death stroke fiercely dealt by a dim sun,
That strikes through his stormy winding-sheet.

Oh! brave white horses! you gather and gallop,
The storm sprite loosens the gusty reins;
Now the stoutest ship were the frailest shallop
In your hollow backs, or your high arch\’d manes.
I would ride as never a man has ridden
In your sleepy, swirling surges hidden,
I would ride as never a man has ridden
To gulfs foreshadow’d through straits forbidden,
Where no light wearies and no love wanes.
Where no love wanes.

Or perhaps even more of Judith Wright’s “The Surfer”:

…

For on the sand the grey-wolf sea lies, snarling,
cold twilight wind splits the waves’ hair and shows
the bones they worry in their wolf-teeth. O, wind blows
and sea crouches on sand, fawning and mouthing;
drops there and snatches again, drops and again snatches
its broken toys, its whitened pebbles and shells.