I have been to Nirvana and it is a remote National Park camping ground in the remote south-east corner of this fair country. I cannot be more specific than that, for if the sheer idyllic beauty of this location was widely promoted it would become more crowded than Surfers Paradise in Schoolies Week.

I don’t wish to exaggerate wave quality, for there are plenty of more perfect and awe-inspiring waves in the world.. But to be perched in a comfortable camp site among gnarled coastal gums and twisted banksias, for wife and kids to be happy and catered for, with a few convivial fellow campers scattered about a dozen sites, goannas and roos casually ambling about the undergrowth, and with a fun overhead point break and almost no one round – I cannot want for more than this. I would have been content here even without waves.

When we set out on this journey, I had in my mind a fantasy camp ground, with our kids happily at play with the children of our fellow campers, my wife reclined in a hammock with a good book, and me merrily gorging on uncrowded wilderness waves. I had no idea if such a place existed.

On our trip south, I had gone to study at the feet of my guru, Professor Andy Short, eminent marine scientist and a man who has visited and surveyed every beach in Australia – all 12,500 of them. Who better to consult for guidance on a round Australia coastal road trip?

I told him about my fantasy camp ground and asked if many such places existed. “Not many,” he told me bluntly.
And yet this one spot deep in a south coast National Park kept cropping up in conversations with other travellers. Have a place recommended to you once and you may or may not get there. When it is mentioned twice you pay special attention, If it is recommended to you three times by three independent sources, then you’d better go. The place is clearly calling you.
And so it was with this cosy little bay we shall call Knacklehho (not its real name). A long drive down a winding dirt road gave no hint of what awaited us at the end of a bumpy, dusty drive.

I must commend our vehicle at this juncture, the mighty RAV4 towing our van down the rough dirt track without a worry, across terrain few caravaners venture over. Finally, the winding track opened up into a delightful camp ground. We found a prime site and set up the Expanda, and then I made a beeline for the beach. It was gorgeous, but flat, and remained so for the next two days. And I was happy enough. I’d heard of a right point that occasionally awoke on the rocky southern end of the beach. She was a rare bird, and it teased and taunted with the occasional capping set of white-water, but nothing that appeared rideable.

On the third morning, I trotted down the beach track to see solid but lumpy beachbreaks closing out the length of the beach. At the southern end small waves spluttered and rolled down the Point, barely resembling a surf spot. I paddled out in the beach break closeouts, wanting only to feel the ocean’s kiss, and found a few short rides amid the random peaks. And then as I paddled back out I saw a set loom at the Point, and from the side view in the water I watched in awe as it peaked and threw into an inviting almond-shaped tunnel. I scratched my way closer to investigate and soon another set peaked and peeled down the Point. The closer I got the better it looked and before I knew it I found myself in the midst of a proper, full blown session at an empty pointbreak.

It was not perfect, a bit like Angourie with too much south in the swell, a little fat and pushing wide of the reef. But there were fast, rearing drops, and big bowly sections, and the occasional smaller one that hugged the Point and ran cleanly for a hundred metres or so. It was astonishing.

I had it to myself for maybe half an hour before four blokes from Phillip Island paddled out, apologising profusely for interrupting my solitude. I didn’t mind a bit – with schools of fish and a pod of dolphins zipping through the line up, I was actually glad of some human company.

It was like that for the next couple of days and I happily took my fill, sometimes alone, sometimes with a handful of my fellow campers, often with dozens of dolphins sharing the waves, criss-crossing under my board as I rode. It may stand as the high water mark of my surfing life.

Then the swell gradually evaporated and it was time to move on. To find one’s goal at the very beginning of a quest is a delightful but slightly unsettling surprise. What can possibly match or exceed this? Will all else be rendered an anti-climax?
I suspect not, but time will tell.

AREA: Far south coast of NSW

TOTAL DISTANCE TRAVELLED: 1864 km

SURF: Three to five foot right hand point break.

LOCAL TIP: The Beach House gift shop and café in Tathra sells the most astonishing home made soups you will ever find. The seafood chowder is a must.

RECOMMENDED TOURIST ATTRACTION: The Eden Whale museum documents the history of the local whaling industry, including the skeleton of Tom the Killer Whale. Local legend has it that Tom and his podder of killer whales assisted local whalers, by herding passing whales into Eden’s Twofold Bay.

OBSCURE LOCAL CELEBRITY SIGHTING: Former rocker Frankie J Holden from Ol’ 55 now runs the Tathra Family Caravan Park.