About
Earth Bound officially started at the end of 2024, but the drive to document these places actually goes back to when I was a kid.
Earth Bound officially started at the end of 2024, but the drive to document these places actually goes back to when I was a kid.
Growing up in Willoughby, my friends and I used to skateboard every weekend. There was a large valley nearby with a river that developers eventually paved over and diverted into massive underground drains. One weekend, we found this huge concrete full-pipe. We took turns skating it, getting as high up on the oververt as we could. When we finished, we decided to walk further down the pipe. We didn't expect much, but we were completely blown away to find an elaborate network of tunnels running right beneath the neighborhood. We kept going deeper until we hit a heavy curtain blocking off one of the sections. Behind it was a fully built room—beds, a working TV, a kitchen area, and shelves. I took some photos, posted them on my Instagram, and the account completely blew up.
That discovery changed things. I started spending my weekends looking for interesting, forgotten places just to photograph them. I hunted down spots like the Crater Cove shacks and the Jenolan House. I even traveled to Japan and Bali to explore abandoned resorts, including Hashima Island—an empty coal-mining city sitting out in the ocean.
This led to my first real project: The Hidden Mysteries. It was a free online zine about Japan. It wasn’t comprehensive or particularly polished—it was more of an excuse to draw, take photos, and create something personal. Looking back, it was a starting point more than anything else. A way to document a place and a moment in time. (You can still view my old photos on https://www.flickr.com/photos/163612953@N06/.)
By then, my Instagram had grown to about 30,000 followers. A publication called Pedestrian TV reached out to interview me about the Willoughby tunnels, but the journalist spun the article into a story about a secret "underground community." That caught the attention of the Cave Clan, a group known for strictly gatekeeping the drains and tunnels around Sydney. Shortly after, my Instagram was hacked and permanently deleted. All that work and documentation just disappeared. It was devastating, and I ended up walking away from photography and exploring altogether.
For the next ten years or so, I focused on my career. I finished uni and worked as a web developer and designer for a consultancy. But eventually, the stiff corporate environment started taking a toll on my mental health. I felt completely trapped.
I was doing Jiu-Jitsu to look after myself, and around that time, I watched a documentary on Royce Gracie. There’s a scene where he’s meditating under freezing waterfalls to build his vital energy. It reminded me of a trip I’d taken years earlier.
While visiting the Jenolan Caves, I had a conversation with an Aboriginal Elder who told me that during summer, different tribes would migrate to the rivers and waterfalls there. The water, they believed, was good for the bones and overall health. Years later, I learned that the caves are made of calcium-rich limestone, and that all the water running through them would naturally be infused with calcium—something modern science has since confirmed. That story stayed with me.
It reminded me that natural swimming spots often hold more than just aesthetic value. In places like Pamukkale in Turkey, for example, the mineral waters have been used for thousands of years for their health benefits. These places have a long history of connection—of people returning to the water not just to cool off, but to feel better.
That realization was the push I needed to get back outside. I started mapping out the best natural swimming spots in the state, which eventually became Swim NSW. The goal was simple: get people out into nature, because it’s genuinely good for your head.
Spending so much time on the road made me realize the drive is half the fun, which led to Drive NSW.
Now, I’m back at it with Hidden Gems NSW. I’m no longer sneaking into drains or trespassing like I did when I was younger. Today, my focus is on getting people to experience incredible, off-the-beaten-path locations in nature. I believe that if people actually get out there and experience how amazing these places are, they’re more likely to care about them—and hopefully, advocate for their protection.
This guide leans heavily into natural swimming spots. That’s a reflection of what I’ve always found most valuable—not just being in the water, but being out in nature. Especially now, when life feels more disconnected and fast-moving than ever, I hope this book encourages you to slow down, step outside, and go somewhere that feels grounding.
If you’ve picked up this guide, use it. Swim, explore, take your time. These places are worth it—for your health, your head, and everything in between.
— Jack Hammond
Editor, Earth Bound Guides
