Back to Sandpiper

Back to Port Lincoln and On to the Murray (4-10 May 2014)

We packed the car and made the long drive back to join Sandpiper in Port Lincoln. Leaving on 4^th may, we took three and a half days to make the crossing of the Nullabor, camping in the Oz Tent each night and taking a strict 100km driving rotation to try and stave off the dreaded back spasms.

In fact, we are a pair of cripples, hanging on by a thread at present. I have the back somewhat under control with the help of a nerve sleeve injection. Christine did something nasty to a knee and hobbles around with great care. Both of us have alarmingly high blood pressure levels, probably as a result of all the anti-inflammatory drugs we have been swallowing. We drive, stop, get out the blood pressure machine, try to stay calm and push on. Whatever is going on, things are slowly coming good so hopefully all will be fine in a week or so.

Once again, we encountered rain on the crossing, mostly light but heavy falls in evidence on the WA/SA border. The days were pleasantly cool and the nights chilly but bearable. Traffic was light and very well behaved, except for one lunatic who assumed that a right hand flicker means “You may pass me now!” and not “I am going to turn right into that rest area.” Luckily, I was a more intelligent driver than he was.

Sandpiper was waiting for us, safe and sound and looking none the worse for being idle. Our host, Richard, was glad to see us back and immediately plied us with his delicious coffee. He had been off to the Snowy Mountains for a trip in our absence and bought back a trailer load of old MG parts that he had stored in a mate’s shed near Sydney some 20 odd years ago. Sadly, time and vermin had taken its toll on the old upholstery and dash but he is still determined to restore his precious MGs to their former glory.

We organised a dinner at a Chinese Restaurant with John and Helen, partly to thank them for there help and support and mostly to catch up. It turned out that John was one of the best customers of the place, working his way steadily through the menu when doing night shift. His expertise came in handy and we ate more in one night than we’d eaten the whole week. The company was great and the night filled with talk of boats, fishing and bringing up kids. What more could we want?

On exiting the restaurant, we found the promised cold front had arrived in force, with the rain starting and the wind settling in to a low gale. During the night it blew quite hard and rocked the boat quite noticeably, despite the fact that we were on the trailer high and dry. We were both so glad we were not at sea somewhere.

In the morning, the temperature and driving wind gave little incentive to get up so we slept in late until things were a bit more civilized. Then it was pack up, hitch up and say our farewells to Richard, who protested strongly that we hadn’t hung around long enough. He tried to bribe us with more of his excellent coffee but we took out leave and drove north through light drizzle and fierce winds towards Port Augusta.

Driving was unpleasant, with the wind buffeting us around a lot so we made do with staying in Cowell, half way between Lincoln and Whyalla, leaving us a long but manageable drive the next day to access the Murray River. Our previous plans of sailing the top end of Spencers Gulf have been put on hold until the return trip, when it should be warmer. Of course, being in Cowell meant that buying a dozen fresh oysters was almost compulsory. Cowell oysters are our favourite and these lived up to expectations.

The next day dawned wonderfully clear and even a little bit warm. This represents a rare treat. After a slow and relaxed breakfast, we packed and hitched up, making our way out of town towards Port Augusta. Along the way, we had to locate the obligatory “Dump Point”. This aspect of our travels keeps us up close and personal with our daily bodily needs and makes us feel like one of the true “Grey Nomad” set. You know you are truly liberated when you can inflict a load of your collected excrement on any community of your choosing.

A long but enjoyable drive took us North through Whyalla to Port Augusta then South again to Port Pirie. The plan was to turn left onto the Wilkins Hwy to work East then South again to Clare. I half turned off Hwy 1 a saw a large collection of trucks, caravans and trailers off to one side in a pull over with lots of flashing lights, indicating a SA Transport Weighbridge site. With great dexterity, I swung around and resumed our travel on Hwy 1, not being at all keen on examining the latest tow weights of our rig. Our detour led us through Crystal Brook and the Clare Valley. The Clare Valley is a wonderfully scenic drive, especially in May with the autumn colours creating some wonderful vistas. The road was in poor condition and our speed was limited to 75-80km/hr but we enjoyed the views and the drive.

Christine researched the options ahead using a terrific iPhone App called WikiCamps, which gives details and reviews of places to stop along the way. Through this, she found a terrific overnight stop in a small town called Tarlee, where they promised free camping on the disused town oval with toilets and a top pub nearby. The reviews were not over stated, with the town and pub full of amazing SA hospitality and advice. This little town is a gem.

In the morning, the temperature had dropped to not much above freezing so we slept late and didn’t get going until nearly 10am. The road to Kapunda led up and over a large hill that the guys in the pub had warned was heavily populated with wombats. While very cute, they make a serious mess underneath the car when hit so we took a lot of car. Actually sighting a wombat would have been good but they proved elusive. Kapunda itself was surprisingly big with many really beautiful old stone houses of impressive size.

By comparison, our destination town of Blanchetown was very small and lacking in points of interest. Its only claim to fame is that it is the site of Lock 1, the first of many locks along the Murray River. We booked into the Big 4 Caravan Park and found it totally deserted, despite being one of the best equipped and prettiest parks we have ever encountered. As the day wore on, two other vans arrived and we enjoyed some pleasant conversation watching the daylight fade over the river.

After a week of constant driving and organising, we gave ourselves a day off, sleeping until after 9am, the heavy river fog making rising pointless. The fog magically cleared around 10am and we enjoyed a very pleasant sunny day, almost producing a warmth at times. During the day, we took the time to check out the launching facilities and restock the larder with a few essentials, ready for our trip on the river.