When Denis Nagle started his walk along Ninety Mile Beach, he was not just following a route. He was stepping into a story.

At 68, Denis is retracing the epic 1797 journey of the Sydney Cove shipwreck survivors, men who, after being twice shipwrecked, walked hundreds of kilometres up the coast in search of help. Most did not make it. But their route, and the crucial role of Indigenous communities in their survival, left an imprint on Denis that he could not shake.

“I only came across the story 18 months ago,” Denis says. “It just stuck with me, how much it depended on the generosity of the Aboriginal people. That was not something we were ever taught.”

What began with a historical novel (Preservation by Jock Serong) quickly turned into a deep dive. Denis read everything he could find, including Mark McKenna’s From the Edge, and visited museums from Launceston to Flinders Island. By September, he had his boots on and was walking.

This latest section of the journey saw him joined by his sister, Patsy Nagle, a retired National Parks ranger. The pair waded across rivers, navigated shifting sandbars, and worked around the tides. The route took them in and out of coastal towns, across rugged stretches of beach, and into conversations with strangers who appeared just when needed.

“People are kind,” Denis says. “We were offered help with river crossings, lifts in cars, food and water, and shelter on lawns and verandahs.”

Some stretches he walks alone. Others, like this one, are shared. One leg from Mallacoota to Eden took over a week. The physicality is not new to Denis, but the emotional current of this journey runs deeper.

“I nearly drowned crossing the Snowy River,” he says. “The tide changed. My pack started sinking, and I went with it. I got out, soaked, shaken, but still walking.”

Denis Nagle on his way through Kiama recently. Photo: Supplied

He walks in four-day stints, with breaks in between, and often returns home before starting the next leg. Sometimes there is a car shuffle with family. Sometimes he takes the bus. And always, there is a sense of purpose.

Denis and his supporters have raised funds for Orange Sky, a charity that provides mobile laundry and shower services to people experiencing homelessness. But he is also gathering stories and inspiration for a future art exhibition, one that will combine ceramics, painting and raw materials gathered along the way.

“There are forms I am already seeing in my head. It will take time.”

His respect for the past is paired with a healthy wariness of how history gets told. The original Sydney Cove survivors, a mix of European and Indian crew, relied on Aboriginal generosity, yet the written accounts were filtered through colonial distortion.

Denis traverses the Kiama coast. Photo: Supplied

“One survivor’s journal told the truth,” Denis says. “But it was handed over to a journalist in Calcutta, who rewrote it to glorify the bravery of the white sailors and painted the Indigenous people as savages.”

Meanwhile, the ship’s captain and senior officers had stayed behind on Preservation Island, salvaging what they could. To avoid temptation, they reportedly moved the cargo, including barrels of rum, to a neighbouring island now known as Rum Island. Months later, they too were rescued.

It is that mix of hardship, survival, and often-overlooked kindness that stays with Denis.

“I am just one bloke with a pack,” he says, “but I think the story deserves to be walked again.”

The walk has also shown him how valuable the new and upgraded coastal trails are, especially tracks like the Kiama Coastal Walk, which could one day form part of a continuous trail stretching the full length of the East Coast and into Victoria.

Denis would like to acknowledge John Blay and Leon Fuller for their guidance and encouragement, and all the other unnamed track angels met along the way.