The trawlers head out from Yamba in late afternoon.

I saw the first two muscling through a heaving swell as we walked around the rocky headland south of the Pacific Hotel. The pub, which sits on a high hill overlooking the beach, is a weird mix of sweeping and beautiful art deco curves out front, and blocky functionality out back; a design to lure the thirsty wanderer in through the front door, and keep them drinking for hours, stunned by the view in the back bar.

By the time we’d hauled ourselves up the sandy heights for a Stone & Wood, there were eight trawlers beating their way through the plunging waves and sea mist. Prawn boats, I guessed. The local prawns are fat and sweet and much sought after a long way from here.

The weather was fine, the last heat of a long, punishing summer lingering to make the trek around the headland and up the hill a sweaty, hard-breathing challenge. A steady breeze cooled the drinkers on the back deck of the Pacific and gave a lone paraglider plenty of lift to play with. Kids and some naughty dogs chased a ball up and down the sand.