
Coast
People have always been drawn to the ocean. It is after all where we came from. Some of us are pulled back by nostalgia, some enticed by promises of something new, and some return day after day out of pure necessity, in search of essential supplies. As we have for centuries, we gravitate to the perimeters of the continents and countries on which we live.
The edges of lands are where time both slows and speeds up, measured only by the rhythm of tides lapping or crashing as they have done for millennia. These are places both ancient and new, where the earth’s constant regeneration is most evident. Relatively young rocks are washed smooth by the grains of sand they will eventually break down and become. Life sustaining kelp grows, is eaten and blooms again, the nutrient rich algae providing sustenance for thousands of marine species.
Coastlines and oceans beyond them have shaped the world as we know it today, having long served as trading routes and bridges between people.


Escape and healing
In an increasingly frantic world, we often feel the need to “take a break” or “recharge” and when we do our minds drift to the ocean. A beach holiday, for some of us, is a reliving of childhood, a ritual to be repeated often in order to remain connected to our past and our roots. We draw on memories of dripping ice creams and salty hair, sea mist lit by late afternoon sun and splashing in the shallows with those with which they feel closest. Then there are those who feel the pull of the ocean even though they may have never seen it before. An ancient instinct that tells them this is where they must go.
For others, the magnetism is more scientific. Seawater has long been understood to offer healing properties. The high magnesium levels in saltwater help regulate our muscles and nerve functionality, moderate blood sugar levels and improve sleep. It is difficult to be anything but present when listening to the sounds of rolling waves or paddling out to catch a break. In fact, coming into contact with salt water and sand, with their negative electron charges, balances the free radicals that build up in our bodies, leaving us feeling more energised. We are literally healed by the sea.



A multifaced master
The coast can be many things. It can be a calming or angry place, depending on the whims of tides and weather systems. It can be soft and sandy or hard edged and rocky. It can be remote and desolate, untouched by humans, or the scene of great gatherings and historical events. It is the scene of memories for some and an undiscovered wild land for others.
Coastlines can be dangerous for multitude reasons. Cape Tribulation in Australia, despite appearing serene with its long stretches of white sands, is home to lethal jellyfish and estuarine crocodiles as well as aggressive cassowaries amongst other smaller but no less deadly creatures. At other locations such as Hawaii’s Hanakapiai Beach, it is powerful rip currents that pose the greatest danger.
On the other hand, the beaches of the Mediterranean or Koh Lanta, Thailand, offer calm, warm waters and the kind of relaxed atmosphere that makes it hard to believe they are in anyway connected to the harsh, rugged coastlines of more volatile regions.

Where we came from and what it taught us
The ocean keeps its mysteries hidden in its vast depths. The coastlines that meet it, however, offer up clues to those that care to look. Our ancestors combed the shorelines and eventually discovered how to survive by its resources, fishing its depths, scavenging its shallows and using it for transport. They learned that the sea is nurturing but also forbidding; it grants life but can also take it away in an instant. They learned how to work with, not against, the sea and to always respect it above all else. Coastlines became the gateway to this provider and essential to all human life. They have been the start and end of many great journeys. and witnessed the migrations of people and animals alike, helping to shape the world we know today. On the water, a weaving together of diverse backgrounds and beliefs has occurred as groups of people have discovered, traded and learned from each other and merged into new tribes and races. Our oceans both separate and connect us.
Today, two-thirds of the global population live within 380 kilometres of the coast, a testament to our profound connection to the sea. As we have explored the inner reaches of lands, navigating mountains and deserts, it is remarkable how we have continually returned to the coastlines. These frontiers have offered not only physical necessities but also a sense of continuity and belonging. The coastal regions, with their rich ecosystems and strategic significance, have provided everything we needed, from the dawn of civilization to the present day. Our exploration of inland territories has been driven by curiosity and instinct, yet the allure of the coast remains a central and enduring part of the human story.


The coast is a place to witness constant evolution and gain inspiration from its ever-changing nature. It is a place to stand, with our toes in the water, knowing that somewhere, in some faraway place, a stranger could be doing the same; hoping for the same things.
For those of us who grew up by the coast, the sea never leaves us. We may move inland to cities or rural open spaces, but we are always drawn back to the peace of lapping waves and salty air. We long to stand in the shallows and feel the water wash over us, connecting us to the earth while we look to the horizon. Where else can we better understand our place in the world?