Huskisson, not far from the World’s Best Hamburger Shop That Wasn’t, is named after William Huskisson, the unlucky Secretary of the Colonies who was run over by a train in 1830. His tenure was followed by an enterprising fellow named Dent who arrived in these parts looking for timber to nick off with for shipbuilding in Sydney, which was not altogether bad as it kicked off industry in the area.

His namesake is the unassuming Dent Street, which leads down to the Lady Denman maritime museum (where an old Sydney ferry is parked on dry land inside a shed). The complex includes Timbery’s aboriginal workshop, where boomerang throwing classes are given, and, for thrill seekers, there’s also a “world-standard collection of surveying instruments.”

What is quite entertaining is a stroll along the Wetland Walk, an elevated boardwalk which kicks off beyond the fish lagoon and leads between the native mangroves of Currambene Creek. Now this is a seriously creepy place.

The cicadas are louder here than mid-city traffic, and the muddy wetland is teeming with thousands of crabs which burrow into the mud as you pass by. The mangroves’ roots are like ultra sucking machines, digging into the muddy earth far below seabed level. Part way to the viewing platform, on the right side, is the skeleton of a long abandoned dinghy. It’s not the sort of place I’d like to be caught in the dark.