Changi Beach

The once idyllic shoreline running northeast from Tanah Merah where Changi Airport now sits on land reclaimed from the sea, to Teluk Paku, a small finger of land jutting out from where Changi creek is close to Changi Village, was for a time, the most popular seaside escape for many Singaporean families. The stretch of beach was possibly the longest natural sandy stretch of beach on the island, and was fringed with katapang, acacia and pong pong trees which provided the many shady spots to have picnics by the beach, and of course the many coconut palm trees bowing to the sea.

Changi beach was also a favourite of my parents. We would spend many Sundays, soaking in the sun and sea in the day time, or sitting by the beach, listening to the whisper of the sea breeze in the evenings. It was, in those day, possible to drive right up close to the sand line, find a shady tree to park the car under, and lay out a mat right next to the car. There were of course, several incidents where a careless driver had a tire get stuck in the sand, which in most instances could be remedied by placing a wooden plank under the tire. What I would often do was sit on the roof of my father’s car and enjoy the breeze and rustling of leaves above me. Somehow, this gave me a sense of escape, of being all by myself, on top of the world.

On the roof of my father's car, Changi Beach, early 1970s.

Picnics out of the Car Boot, Changi Beach, late 1960s.

Our picnic baskets would consist of tiffin carriers of curry chicken and baguettes or fried bee hoon that my mother would prepare before setting out, which remained in the boot of the car until it was time to eat. There were some occasions when we paid a visit the beach side cafes along the beach instead for a delicious plate of Mee Goreng. Sometime in the 70s, several rows of wooden huts built on stilts cropped up along some parts of the beach, replacing the beach side cafes which were closed. These huts were sub divided into smaller units, which could be rented for day use by beach users. This somewhat altered the uncluttered view of the beach and it was maybe around that time when cars were prevented from driving up to the beach. There were also some mobile food vendors that came by in vans or motorcycles, including the ice cream vendors and a mobile fish and chips van that was quite popular.

Changi Beach, 1965.

Evenings spent by the beach were also eventful, particularly on the days where low tides occurred in the afternoon, allowing us to walk out into the knee high water, all the way to the line of the Kelongs which once dominated the seascape. Armed with butterfly nets, skewers and a plastic pail, and with a deft hand, we were able to harvest a flower crabs, shrimps, sea snails from among the sand, seaweed, and the sea cucumber and large starfish that I had an irrational fear of. The catch would sometimes go over an open fire that we would light up over a shallow pit dug in the sand, with dry twigs picked up from along the beach. There is nothing like the smell of fresh seafood roasting on a piece of wire mesh supported by red bricks, over the open flames.