Jaidyn Kennedy takes you on a ‘typical’ Friday evening walk around his home suburbs Seabrook, with a little help from his friends.
No, it’s not part of Point Cook. No, it’s not part of Altona Meadows. It is Seabrook.
Having spent my entire 24 years in this suburb, I cannot estimate the number of times I have had to explain this to outsiders.
Unfortunately, I have to address a misnomer and probably kill the place’s best selling point. Seabrook is not by the sea and is in fact landlocked.
So let’s forget about the sea and move on to the brook– the only part of the name that remotely makes sense.
Like many great empires across history, part of Seabrook’s border is defined by physical geography, Skeleton Creek in this case.
Beginning my Friday night walk, the album I am listening to, Exile on Main Street, could not be more out of tune with what I am seeing – peak hour traffic on Point Cook Road.
Many residents would be happy to shine a light on that issue, but it’s time to turn left into Seabrook’s only shopping precinct, the aptly named Seabrook Plaza.
Navigating the peak hour traffic that is coming out of the fish and chip shop and neighbouring bottle shop, I accidentally bump into a stranger.
Strangely enough, that stranger is close friend and fellow Seabrookian Brandon Hayes.
Brandon and I have roamed these streets since the days of the old Hand-E-Food service station.
Hand-E-Food is but a memory and where it once stood has been an empty, cordoned off site since Ampol’s lease expired last July.
We have a lightbulb moment: The Seabrook Hotel. Seabrook’s first pub could occupy this spot. It would be run by locals, for locals, and probably drive tourism numbers up a bit.
Sobering thoughts enter our mind. Not because it’s a bad idea or we wouldn’t become the most famous establishment in Seabrook, but because another establishment right next door, Seabrook Primary School, would be the reason it’s never approved.
Another left turn has us entering Homestead Run and catching a glimpse of the spinning thing (or whatever you call it) on the playground that we both got sick of. Literally.
My vacant stare at another old stomping ground, Seabrook Kindergarten, is abruptly interrupted.
Snapping back to reality, I release it’s only Seabrook’s finest ambassador Nas Khan.
If someone knows a thing or two about this place it’s her. She wasn’t the 2023 Hobsons Bay Citizen of the Year for nothing. The award was given to her for working tirelessly behind the scenes to improve Seabrook.
Naturally, I ask her ‘Why do you love this place so much?’
“I adore Seabrook for many reasons,” Nas says.
“The quietness, the intimate size, the quaint charm, the diversity of cultures, the friendly locals, breath-taking sunrises and sunsets, Skeleton Creek, and the delightful ducks … the list is endless.”
I guess the beginning of Nas’ relationship with Seabrook could be best described as a blind date that turned into a love story.
“I moved to Seabrook in 2005, and the property was bought while I was away, but I had given specific instructions.
“My representative searched various suburbs, including Williamstown, Newport, and Altona, before finding the perfect fit in Seabrook.”
“As soon as I moved in, I fell in love with the house. It matched my energy, and I felt an instant connection.”
For Nas, it’s not about fighting hard or trying to be a big shot, it’s about doing what needs to be done.
“When I spot a problem, I work tirelessly to address it – it’s exhilarating to see positive change unfold.”
Well, she’s off to do something important, so Brandon and I walk back on to Point Cook Road in continuation of our ill-defined quest.
In less than two minutes we pass the Dunnings Road lights and a sign that reads ‘Welcome to Wyndham.’ We have reached another of Seabrook’s borders.
In spite of that, Seabrook is not even the smallest suburb in Hobsons Bay. Seaholme and South Kingsville occupy less territory.
With a U-turn, we are now walking past Seabrook’s only active service station – and café for that matter – the BP.
If you look at a map, the shape of the Seabrook Boulevard and Shane Avenue circuit almost resembles two lungs.
I’m out of breath, so here’s Brandon.
“My family and I moved to Seabrook in 2005 and early on we just realised how accessible this ‘little’ suburb was.
“You have the creek, some nice parks and pretty decent joints to get food. I enjoy just how laid back and discreet it typically is.”
The next Seabrookian we have bumped into moved here in 1998.
Enter Raymond Wright.
Eighty trips around the sun has not taken any mongrel out of the man, who has been spending his golden years protecting our park from marauding teens.
When he is dodging projectiles and weathering profanities, the retired ostrich farmer is quite the charmer and larrikin. But don’t take my word for it.
“I have been living around the general area since 1984 but have stuck around because my kids and grandkids grew up here and still live around here,” Ray said.
“The area has everything I need.”
Brandon and I continue through Pipeline Reserve, it’s just ‘The Park’ to us though.
While we both miss the old playground, the new one that opened last October has been a hit with the kids.
Since there is no designated ‘Seabrook historical society’, I phoned in a friend, Graeme Reilly of the Altona Laverton Historical Society, to answer a question I have pondered my whole life but not bothered to ask.
“The area was referred to as Laverton until the area transferred from Werribee (now Wyndham) to Hobsons Bay. In 1996, approximately, it was colloquially referred to as Laverton South,” Graeme tells me.
“Then around 1998 it became Western Gardens as the housing estate was known under that title. Shortly afterwards it became Seabrook.”
Interesting as that may be, it doesn’t help us get out of our neighbour’s shadow and we have hit Willowgreen Way, another border.
We have an open border agreement with Point Cook, but Brandon and I are going to head home for dinner.
