Looking out upon the ocean on Bondi shoreline, side by side with nearly 1,000 fellow lifesavers, Lockie Cook allowed himself to experience the grief of a local most traumatic week in modern times.
“It feels like my defences are coming down,” he stated.
Volunteer lifeguards gathered in their hundreds on that morning to participate in two minutes of silence and commemorate those killed in the previous weekend's violence.
Babies, grandparents, neighbours and schoolmates dressed in their iconic colours held each other, making a chain stretching from the crescent-shaped beach’s north side toward its southern tip.
“The big thing that’s come out of this is just the extent that this community matters to me,” he expressed.
“This beach is our place of worship … It is crucial we reconnect and begin to mend.”
At that morning, the moment of quiet was called for by a man at the beach’s central lifeguard post, near which lie clusters of floral memorials.
“A short time can be a a lengthy period but I urge you to reflect,” he urged.
“Link arms with the soul next to you, look inward and reflect on the families affected so we can emerge more resilient for this beach family.”
Lifesavers looked down or to the ocean as residents, visitors and officials stood by. All that could be heard were waves on the shore, a lone dog’s bark and a droning rescue helicopter, which circled along the beachfront as the moment concluded.
Friends and families slowly turned to embrace and clap for their companions at the far end of the beach as acclamation erupted from the watching crowd.
This was another example of the volunteers working to unite the community this difficult period, stated one man, a Jewish member of the north club and a first responder on that fateful day.
“At this moment, I am filled with the compassion and solidarity,” commented the participant, who asked not to be named.
Having made his home in Bondi for most of his years, he participated in the memorial paddle on in the days after and has worked to reclaim the beach as his own.
“It felt like taking ownership back, it’s cathartic,” he said.
Gene Ross, a longtime lifesaving teacher, spent the quiet time next to his recently qualified son, considering the togetherness his club had demonstrated every day since Sunday.
“Carrying out the attack here … invited Australia to stand with the people.”
Scores of lifesavers laughed and cried together as they returned toward their surf clubs and through the area where their fellow members saved lives on Sunday.
Many others remained on the water's edge, on duty to help people going back into the surf.
“Our duty is to all and that’s the guiding spirit of beach rescue,” Ross affirmed.
“It is our calling as lifesavers: we head into the danger.”