Category: Western Australia (Page 1 of 3)

Across the Nullabor 2026

April 7, 2026 / / 0 Comments

3 April – We headed off out of Esperance on Good Friday. The rain eased as we headed north and we revelled in the ultra light traffic flow, given the public holiday. We didn’t go too far, stopping at Bromus Dam near the old settlement of Dundas. The well constructed dam was built in the 1920s to service steam trains. It now acts as a large free camp ground.

Bromus dam – Dundas

 

 

4 April – We drove through Norseman turned east and on to Balladonia, where we faced our first fuel over $3 a litre. This is a sign of things to come as the fuel crisis continues. The Government cut in fuel excise will take a while to apply out in the regional areas. The weather was at least fine, which allowed the flies to come out in force. The whole area between Norseman and Ceduna has had repeated heavy falls of rain over the last few months leaving a carpet of grass and lots of insects out in force. The butterflies are beautiful too, from small blues to large yellow swallowtails and the bright orange monarchs. We settled for the night at the Caiguna Blowhole camp. The blowhole is a small vent to an extensive cave system. When the wind blows from a certain direction and pressurises the cave, the blowhole acts as a vent.

 

5 April – Another day of driving today, taking us through Caiguna, Cocklebiddy, Madura, Mundrabilla and Eucla. We had our moment of fun at Mundrabilla when we had to wait for a car to exit the only ULP pump that suited our situation. The car was empty so we waited for the driver to come out of the shop. And waited…and waited. Finally, a woman appeared with hands full of treasures and got into her car. We waited…and waited. Eventually, I flashed my lights. That produced action and she eased out. We gave a cheer. She gave us a mouthful. We laughed and started to pump. The angry lady wasn’t finished. She had turned around to come through again and harangue us with something about spoiling Easter. We quite cheerfully told her to “piss off”.

 

The traffic is still light, especially heading east. The overnight stop was at the start of the magnificent Bunda Cliffs, 13km into South Australia. It would have been beautiful to sit outside and admire the view, especially with the light winds, but the flies were unbearable, even with fly nets on. As each campsite fills up with caravans and motorhomes, people just slam the door shut and remain inside. The popular campsite custom of gathering for “fivesies” just doesn’t happen. I hate flies.

 

6 April – We ticked off the rest of the actual Nullabor today, driving to Penong, the start of the SA farming country. After a few nights “off-grid” we opted for the Penong Caravan Park, a lovely little park that we have stayed in before. A feature is the “vege swap” basket in the laundry so people who are headed in to Ceduna and the quarantine can donate their vegetables to those who are heading west and have a night or so to eat them before hitting the WA quarantine.

Penong is also home to the “Windmill Museum”, a collection of working and static windmills, including Australia’s largest, a big Comet brand. We planned to wander down to the pub for a beer but the rain arrived as evening set in.

7 April – The day was set for rain all day and rain it did. The plus side of the rain is that the flies go and hide somewhere. With time up our sleeve and attracted by the prospect of a day without driving, we chose to stay on and relax. Relax, we did, Christine started a new jigsaw, I wrote this stuff and we generally did very little. We have only 60kms to Ceduna, marking the traditional end of the Nullabor crossing. From here on, we will work our way down through SA towards, Geelong, to park up and prepare for the trip to New Zealand.

Dirk Hartog Island and Steep Point – May 2021

May 30, 2021 /

Wow! Nothing about this trip went to plan. It was a trip a long time in the planning too, and well planned at that. But fate intervened, not once, but several times.

The Plan:

  1. Abandon the very long standing family tradition of going to Shark Bay for the 1st term school holidays.
  2. Travel to Giralia Station on the southern end of Exmouth Gulf with Trevor, Em and the kids, and Ron and Jo for a week of wilderness beach camping and fishing.
  3. Trevor and Em to travel back to Hamelin Pool with us, drop the boat off in storage, then continue on across the unsealed Useless Loop road and winding sand tracks to Steep Point, Australia’s most Westerly Point.
  4. Put the vehicles and Trev’s camper trailer on the barge across to Dirk Hartog Island for a four day stay, exploring the sights and fishing from a 3 metre plastic twin hulled boat.

Admittedly, there was a lot that could go wrong here, with mechanical failures, damage on the appalling tracks around Steep Point or problems with boat motors. In the end, a lot went wrong but it was none of the above.

The Preparation: With so many caravanning and boating trips lately, we forget just how much work there is preparing for a completely self-sufficient camping trip. Giralia Station requires fresh water, toilet and electrical provision. You get a lovely stretch of private beach, but nothing else, other than a couple of dump points. Dirk Hartog Homestead Camp has some excellent shower and toilet facilities but campers need their own power, fuel and must take out rubbish. Despite everyone’s determination to travel light, we all collected various objects that might prove useful, cramming them into every last nook and cranny. Ron and I spent some time checking over the trailer bearings and springs and throwing out all the unnecessary things from the boat. We had some appointments in Perth just prior to leaving so we loaded our box trailer with stuff and brought it down ready to load into the boat.

How Things Really Went: During all the packing, my back started to get increasingly sore. I tried to do the right things, wearing a brace for heavy lifting, stretching and taking a few anti-inflams but it just kept getting worse, heading steadily towards the point where the crippling spasms set in. I know from past episodes, that it is a two-week recovery from that point. Christine added her bit to the drama by waking in the middle of the night with a heart arrythmia and high blood pressure, something she has not had before. She wisely called an ambulance. When the ambos arrived, they took one look at me and declared they would do a two for one, and we both went in. Christine was the first call but she had to walk out and sit in the seat, whereas I got to have the green whistle and use the lie down. The doctor in the ED thought it was quite funny and kept us each up to date on the other’s progress. By 9am the next morning, we were both let go, Christine having had a jolt to reset the rhythm and me with some strong painkillers which did the job but left me pretty useless otherwise.

The decision was made for us. The Giralia part got the boot. Trevor, Em and the kids decided to spend the week exploring the Murchison along the Wool Wagon Pathway followed by the Kennedy Ranges, returning to meet us at Hamelin, when our medical problems eased. Ron and Jo headed to their place in Greenhead to pull some weeds and relax. Christine started a course of tablets and made a booking for further tests at a later date. I lay around and took my narcotics. We did have one stroke of luck in the form of bad luck. Our starter motor died and needed an RAC tow to the mechanic for a new one. Having that happen deep in the outback would have been horrific.

The Trip: We eventually set off, taking the box trailer with us. Trevor had off loaded some stuff, including the plastic dinghy, at Greenhead, so we picked that up along the way. I was still not up to driving so Christine did the lot, doing a fantastic job and getting us to Hamelin with no dramas. Trevor and Em had got there only an hour before us having had a wonderful week on the inland dirt roads and exploring some amazing country. I was still out for the heavy lifting so I supervised the kids in the swimming pool while the others made camp. The bad news was the weather forecast, with 15-20mm forecast across the Useless Loop Road for the following day. It was going to be a matter of getting through before the Shire closed it.

The old telegraph station homestead

True to the forecast, the rain started around 6am, forcing us to break camp in the wet and head to the camp kitchen. The camp kitchen tried hard to reflect the old station life but, in reality, it was a sub-standard facility by today’s standards. The only positive is that it was a higher standard than the ablutions. The Hamelin Caravan Park is remote and isolated, but that is not an excuse for the poor facilities in this day and age, especially when the prices were full Covid prices.

Breakfast in the campkitchen

When we reached the Useless Loop Road, the sign said “Closed When Wet” but there were no barriers up or other signage, so we drove past the shire truck, with the workers saying nothing and set off. The first 20 kms was sealed, a pleasant surprise, and the remaining 80kms to the National Park entrance was mostly freshly graded. In places, the rain was starting to sheet off forming small running creeks but it  remained hard and not slippery. The further we went, the deeper the water got but the road surface stayed solid. Once into the National park and across the bar that holds water back for the Useless Loop Salt Works, the road turned into a heavily corrugated narrow track. The good thing was that the rain had wet the dunes to the point that the normally difficult dune climbs early in the NP section were really easy.

The scenery over the last  60km or so was spectacular, with huge windswept sand dunes, some totally devoid of vegetation, deep inlets of blue water and rolling hills of heathland. Of course, rain squalls swept across all of this. Kelsie and Ashton wanted Trevor to drive over the dunes but fortunately, they were over-ruled. We reached the ranger’s house and got directions to our allocated camp site. Booking is absolutely essential as all sites were full. There was a small city of tents and marquees spread along the beach at Shelter Cove and a small armada of fishing boats anchored off shore.

The rain came down with little relief. Trevor announced that they would opt to sleep in the car, it being just too hard to set up a camp in the conditions. We did manage to erect a 3X3m gazebo and use a car and a screen wall to get protection from the weather side.

Huddled in our gazebo at Shelter Bay

I dug out a portable gas heater and we all huddled around it, venturing forth in the rain lulls to fish. The kids even went for a swim, the water being so warm. We managed to get our 30 Second Tent up in a weather break so we were set for a good night’s sleep. By 8pm, the sky had cleared but it was too late for Trevor to set up, especially with a 7:30am barge to catch. By 6am, the rain returned, and we broke camp in rain once again.

The fishing fleet at dawn in Shelter Bay

The barge arrived, with a car and camper on it, and we watched as the guy backed off, veering slightly and only just keeping the front wheels on the ramp as he exited. There is no wharf or concrete ramp, just a sand beach. Trevor was waved forward, and he crossed the sand, hitting the barge a tad fast. It made for scary watching. It is one vehicle at a time so we had a half hour wait then our turn came and we approached the ramps at a more sedate pace, boarding without issue. Driving on and off the barge was the only time I drove, Christine did a refusal.  Once parked, we went up onto the bridge to meet Kieran Wardle, the owner of Dirk Hartog Homestead. He briefed us on our stay and moving around the island.

Locked and loaded

At the other end, we backed off and set off across the 20km track to the homestead camp grounds. The track was a lot narrower on the island, and I did tell Christine off a few times when she allowed a thorny bush to rake down the side of the car. Strangely, it was always my side, never hers. A few flooded areas had to be negotiated, but again, the ground below proved hard, and we reached the homestead with no real problems, although Trevor had some fun backing up and getting off the road to allow three on-coming vehicles access.

We had camp sites 1 & 2, close to both the bar, camp kitchen and showers. What more could a person need? The sites are spacious and some kind soul had left a half a bag of firewood in a firepit. There is no wood collection on the island and we hadn’t brought in much. We set up camp, mostly on Trevor’s site, creating a sheltered camp big enough for us all.  The wind was up so we just dumped the boat for another day. I walked along to watch a family fishing near the homestead lodge and they displayed a good catch of whiting and flathead, as well as the biggest blue swimmer crab I have ever encountered.

Encouraged by the sight of fish, we set up to fish in front of camp. Kelsie and Ashton are keen on their fishing, Kelsie especially so. She has a lot of patience. Unfortunately, it wasn’t well rewarded, with only a couple of small fish caught. We had missed the tide. Over the next three days, we fished a bit from the beach, the weather offshore never being kind enough to consider launching the boat. We had dragged the damn thing all that way for nothing. We had little success off the beach, a few whiting and flathead was it. We did enjoy a fine feed of plump juicy oysters from the headland a short walk down the beach.

One of the few fish caught

The kids played a lot of beach cricket, and there were frequent games of UNO. There was reading and relaxing, all in mild conditions, the temperature barely getting above 23 degrees, but at least the rain had left us. On Day Two, we set off to explore some features on the island. Some 15kms back towards South Passage are some blowholes on the cliff face. Previously, we had only ever seen the western side of the island from a boat and close exploration was not possible, due to the wild and dangerous nature of the coast. From land, it is easy to appreciate the scale and grandeur of the cliffs that make up the seaward side. The swell was just running enough to produce some blowhole effect. From there, we crossed back through the homestead and drove north to Notch Point, hoping to find a spot out of the wind. Of course, the wind had veered to the north so we once again were faced with an onshore wind. Despite that, we fished, the kids swam and played with their boogey boards and we made jaffles for lunch. Two big whiting at least gave dinner for the kids but there was little else.

At night, the mice would appear. These were not your ordinary domestic mice Mus Musculus, but a rare and endangered native species called the Shark Bay Mouse or Djoongari, Pseudomys Fieldi. It was once widespread across the western part of the continent but is now restricted to four islands in Shark Bay. It is shorter and more ball-like than the house mouse. At first, we found them to be incredibly cute, as they came right up and took food from our hands or nibbled at our toes. However, after we discovered that they had gotten into everything, including the drawers in our car, the attraction wore off. Every packet of food had little holes nibbled in them. They were so tame that it was easy to place a clear plastic box over one and watch as it showed no distress. Neither did it run away when the box was removed. Christine regularly screamed when she came across one in the car food drawer. This amused the kids no end. We began to worry that it would still be there when we left the island. In the end, as we went to drive off the barge, Christine spied a mouse running around on the deck so we assume that it got out just in time.

A Shark Bay Mouse nibbling Christine’s toes

Processionary Caterpillars

Another amusing wildlife sight was that of numerous trails of Processionary Caterpillars. These very hairy caterpillars live in tight clusters in acacia bushes, venturing forth on occasions to move location. They do so in a long head to tail conga line, travelling across the sands to a new tree. Sometimes, there were four or five such trails around the camp. They look soft and furry, but must never be touched. The millions of fine hairs are barbed and will penetrate skin, continuing to work their way down like fibreglass filaments. They are a major threat to the horse breeding industry in the Hunter Valley where the barbs penetrate so deeply they cause foals to abort.

Some evenings, we headed for the beachside bar for sundown. It is a very basic bar, with only two drinks on tap, Matso’s Ginger Beer and Single Finn Ale. Both are $15 a pint so putting in a big night is out of the question. A group usually gathered, some being campers, some staying in the lodge accommodation and some even coming off a cruising yacht. It added a nice touch in such a remote location. In fact, the whole setup is a credit to Kieran Wardle and the staff, with facilities beating many other outback tourist locations that have far easier access to supplies. Yes, it is on the pricey side, but why wouldn’t it be. Everything comes in by boat and staff are hard to find.

A check of the weather report showed another huge weather event approaching for the weekend. We were due to leave the island on the Friday, but the forecast suggested heavy rain starting Thursday night. Strangely, this was tropical rain, coming down in a mid level mass from the north. It was to link up on Saturday with a cold front from the south, making the chance of being rained in and stuck on the island for nearly a week very high. We decided to leave a day early. Later, we found that the area received more than 80mm of rain and the road was closed for 3 or 4 days.

Ominous signs for the weekend.

The exit off the island was uneventful, the barge loading and unloading just as scary but really quite easy.

The drive back across the road was far more comfortable than the drive in, the rain having flattened some of the corrugations. There was a lot more grading on the Useless Loop Road too and we shaved around half an hour off the previous three hour trip. Once back at Hamelin Pool, we picked up the trailer, transferred the boat to it, and headed off. We booked into the Dongara Hotel Motel for the night and enjoyed a wonderful meal at the bar while Trevor and Em made it back to Greenhead to stay at Ron’s place. By morning, the rain had caught up with us and the final drive home on Friday was in heavy rain. A few checks of the radar vindicated our decision to leave early, with many large storms going through South Passage. I wondered how all the fishing camps along the shores of Shelter Bay were faring.

Back in civilization – Dongara Hotel for dinner.

All in all, the trip was a series of disasters, yet it was still enjoyable. We went there as a bucket list exercise, and to that end, it worked. The kids certainly seemed to enjoy the adventure but then those two enjoy everything. We failed to see all of the island, partly because we had seriously misunderstood the amount of fuel we would need and just how horrible it is to drive for a full day on the Dirk Hartog tracks. Despite this, it was worth doing. Would we do it again? No! But then, we don’t have to because it has been crossed off our bucket list.

 

 

Coronation Beach – July 2020

July 27, 2020 /

20 July 2020 – The cold days of winter in Dowerin have worn us down. We are not really used to having a winter at home, usually seeking the escape to warmth by going north or heading to Asia or Europe. Alas, the bleak days of Covid-19 have dragged us down to the point of having to live at home. But it has not been all doom and gloom. We have managed lots of maintenance jobs that have languished undone for years and worked hard to ensure that our toys (caravan and boat) are both ready and able to be put into action.

With a series of appointments in Perth looming, we figured we had a week long window to get to some place warmer. Consulting the map, I spied Coronation Beach, a camping location 25kms north of Geraldton. We had been past the turnoff sign so many times it would be impossible to estimate yet we had never gone in. What better to go to a place unknown? We had a few taskes around town so couldn’t leave first thing. A leisurely drive to Coal Seam Conservation Park, (another place we have never been) was indicated to cut the driving time to manageable levels.

The drive was interesting for the variety of crop conditions. Because different districts had planted at different times, it put the growth at vastly different stages, with some crops barely sprouted while others were at mid calf height. Some areas even had canola crops in near full bloom, while others were just a low coverage of emerging plants.

We stopped in Dalwallinu for lunch, pulling into a large parking area in the middle of town. We had the place to ourselves, until we started to hear a few voices. I stuck my head out of the van and saw at least seven rigs lined up behind us, most with Kalamunda plates. It was an invasion! The people are heading north!

The roads were full of caravans headed north

Then it was onwards through Wubin, Perenjori and Mullewa then Coalseam Conservation Park. Mullewa was looking prosperous, a sight at odds with what I had imagined the case to be given their poor crops over the last few years. The drive from Morawa towards Mingenew is quite charming, especially at this time of year with everything so green. The road winds gently through breakaway country and there are some magnificent groves of  York Gums.

Coal Seam is equally pretty, the Irwin River cutting a low gorge through sandstone country, exposing fossil beds and small seams of coal. It is a little early for the wildflower displays that the place is famous for but a few pink everlastings were poking their heads out and the wattle and grevilia displays just starting. The bird life is wonderful, with red-tailed black cockatoos, blue wrens and red breasted robins all being present. A very restful place.

The Irwin River cuts a shallow gorge at Coal Seam

The little coal pit over the Irwin River

 

 

 

21 July 2020 – We rose early by our standards, mainly because the lack of internet meant that we couldn’t lie in bed and read the news. It was 11 degrees, warm by recent standards in Dowerin. After breakfast, we walked a short way to cross the Irwin River and take in the sights of a couple of mine shafts sunk in 1917 to recover coal. The seam proved too narrow to be viable as a mine and the site was abandoned. It was interesting though, with coal mullock heaps surrounding the small pit.

By 8:30, we were hitched up and on the road, exiting the gravel onto the Mingenew-Mullewa Road towards Walkaway. It was a beautiful drive, with the crops becoming progressively better as we headed west. There are a lot of lupins being grown around here, probably due to the sandy low nitrogen nature of the soils. They were going really well.

Once we finally got Internet coverage, we found that we had sold a few copies of our newly published book (“The Small Boat Cook”). It is so exciting to see orders coming in, mostly from return customers who had purchased our previous publication (“A Small Boat Cruising guide to Shark Bay”). Getting these orders is a double delight because not only do we sell a book, we get an affirmation via the older publication. It lifted our spirits.

We had some business to transact by way of posting out books and emailing e-book orders. We weren’t sure how crowded Coronation Beach would be so the decision was made to head straight to the camp site then return to Geraldton to complete the orders.

The Coronation Beach camp area only has 19 sites, each well spaced out. There are lots of very clean drop toilets and “showers”. This is a loose term because you have to bring your own water, bucket, pump, shower head and whatever else it takes to stand under a refreshing stream of hot water. In reality, the showers are just rooms with benches, and a drain hole. Still, it would be better than nothing when a fresh southerly rules out washing in the open sans clothing.

Coronation Beach camp site

Once set up in camp, and filled with coffee and sandwiches, we headed back into Geraldton to post off books and complete lots of urgent emails. Bunnings also rated a visit and their positioning of the sucker product bin at the entrance containing special Bunning beanies for $3 sucked us in almost as quickly as the old sausage sizzle used to do. At least the comfort from a beanie lasts longer than the short-lived joy of a sausage in a bun.

Then it was back to Coronation Beach to relax, change into shorts for the first time in three weeks, sit and do very little and luxuriate in the warmth. We had bought a bucket of home grown passionfruit with us which we placed at the front of our camp with a sign that carried the magic word “free”. This proved to be a pathway to meeting lots of people and we soon established ourselves as part of a very cheerful little community of campers. There was talk of rigging the rods for a beach fish. I got busy but left mine racked up against the van and took the easy way out by checking on the success or otherwise of others. It proved to be the latter and my decision to delay until the high tide the following morning was vindicated.

Coronation Beach

The last two days have been bliss, travelling with no real aims or goals and soaking up every delightful vista. Like so many experiences during the COVID era, this is teaching us to ease back and savour the good things around us, rather than having to chase ever more exotic experiences. Yeah sure! Just wait until the planes start flying again…

22 July 2020 – What a wonderful day of lazing around doing very little. It was sunny and warm with very light winds so living outside was comfortable. Christine busied herself with the task of applying new decals to the caravan, she having recently repainted it. The results were spectacular, although we decided to order another one for the front of the van to really finish it off. I spent time throwing bait and fishing rigs away to no avail. There was no shortage of equally unsuccessful fisher folk to talk to and the day passed in a very pleasant fashion, including a very rare afternoon nap.

23 July 2020 – Today we decided to do a day trip to Kalbarri, a 300km round trip but with lots on offer.  We have never had a great deal to do with Kalbarri, having only visited a couple of times and stayed once. I’m not sure why because with spectacular coastal scenery, the amazing river gorges and now the World class skywalk facility over the river gorge, it is a class act. I admit to finding the town site still a little on the dull side, with the staff in the shops exuding a sense of “you are lucky to be here so don’t expect too much” but the scenery and the overall atmosphere makes up for it.

We drove through Northampton and on to Port Gregory, amazed at the number of tourists taking selfies at the Pink Lake lookout. The roads were very busy and the area is booming. The crops are the best I have ever seen north of Geraldton, although almost everything was wheat with none of the diversity of cropping seen further south.

The lake behind us is actually pink.

Before Kalbarri, we stopped at a number of the coastal gorges to watch the swells crash against the rocks. Offshore, an amazing number of humpback whales could be seen, some just cruising and others, probably excitable young males, leaving the water in majestic spiraling leaps. It was an incredible sight.

You can’t see the whales in the picture but there were a lot there.

Once in Kalbarri itself we found nothing much had changed. We purchased a light lunch and coffee from a girl in a cafe who looked like she would rather be sleeping than working and wandered  an underwhelming set of shops. On the other hand, I viewed the waterfront in a new light. The last time we were here we were sailors and the river held few attractions because of its shallow nature and lack of sailing room. Now, however, with our Whittley caravan on the water machine, the river looked like a very likely prospect for a two or three day stay. The launching ramps are very good and there are plenty of attractive safe anchorages. We may be back with the boat to spend a couple of days living on the river. There is no way I’d consider going our through the river mouth. I just don’t need to go fishing that much.

After lunch, we headed out on the Ajana Road to the Kalbarri National Park. As Seniors, the entrance to the park was a mere $8 but our National Parks Pass gave us access and we found our way to the new skywalk. The road is new and is constructed so as to dissuade people from speeding. Despite crossing open flat sand plains, the road snakes like a drunken python, weaving left then right and extending the drive by fifty percent. It’s the sort of thing you get, but then don’t. It really is unnecessary.

The Sky Walk is spectacular. This is exactly the kind of attraction our government needs to invest in to lure international visitors (after COVID of course). The overhanging steel structures provide sensational views of the gorges and the river. The surrounding facilities and contextual displays are informative and relevant, giving an excellent insight into the life of the indigenous dwellers along the river before white settlement. It is so good to see World class tourism coming to WA at last.

The Sky Walk over the Murchison River

The sweeping Murchison River gorge

Once all gorged out, we hit the road again to complete the loop through Binnu and back to Northampton, where we had to stop to buy some knitting wool. Why you might ask? Why not? It’s what one does if there is any knitting wool to purchase. To be fair, Christine is knitting some mittens, which should be very handy given the temperatures lately. Hopefully, they will be finished before the weather warms.

Once back in camp, I spent another fruitless our casting a lure at the ocean in the hope of impaling a hapless tailor without success. A bloody good day.

24 July 2020 – The day was spent around camp today. Christine had planned to finish putting decals on the caravan but the wind outside was icy cold so she decided that could wait. I had planned to get up at first light and throw a few lures over the reef in search of a tailor but it was so snug and warm under the doona I stayed there until after 8 o’clock. In summary, we did very little.

While wandering around the camp, we noticed an old “Cabana” camper. Now our little caravan was born a “Cabana”, with fold down beds at each end and a pop-top, but was later reborn as a pop-top caravan by the previous owners. Keen to see what an original Cabana looked like we approached the owners for a chat. Somehow, as always happens, the girl part of the couple turned out to be the sister of friends from Wyalkatchem days. The World is always so small. We swapped lots of “Cabana notes” and shared lots of views about all the fancy new rigs that dotted the camping area, secure in the knowledge that the combined value of our accommodation was little more than the cost of the current trip. It was fun.

For lunch, we drove into Geraldton and did an extended walk of the main CBD. Unfortunately, the many vacant shops spoke heaps about the state of the economy in rural Australia. The city didn’t look to be in the depths of despair but the pain was showing. We bought a few little bits and pieces and shared a donner kebab at a nice little cafe.  There is a lot to like about Geraldton (especially when the wind isn’t over 20 knots) but it often feels like it needs some help.

The rest of the afternoon was spent doing a lot more of nothing, including more useless lure casting at the mythical tailor.

25 July 2020 – Some friends, Helen and Mario, headed down from Monkey Mia today. Some days, all the available spots are taken up quickly so we waited for a suitable spot to become available and claimed it by putting our car on it and paying the fees for a couple of nights. This move proved to be vindicated because when our friends arrived around 12:30, they would have struggled without our reserved spot. We haven’t seen them since before COVID so we had lots of yarns to swap and stories to compare. Along with a few beers and a long walk on the beach in beautiful weather, it was a most relaxing and enjoyable afternoon. Helen and Christine did their usual wonders with a magnificent meal followed by a game of cards (which Christine and I won).  This is the kind of day one goes caravanning for.

26 July 2020 – We rose late after a night that was really too warm for our winter doona. The wind has dropped again and the scenery out on the water is amazing, with glassy seas but a big enough swell to create a wonderful surf break. At Coronation Beach itself, the break is best suited to standup paddle boarders and kite surfers (although the lack of wind has kept them away). The surfing breaks are further south along a sandy track and fairly constant streams of board carrying vehicles come and go.

After breakfast and the news, we drove into Geraldton to go to the Platform Markets, an interesting array of stalls spread along and around the old central railway station. It is a good market, with more genuine local produce and crafts than a lot of metropolitan markets carry. Even the setting evokes memories of earlier times, when the rail station would have been the hub of the town.  The pity is that the area that was once the marshalling and freight yards is now just a vast open space, providing places to park, but also leaving a massive hole in the city’s development. I guess plans exist for the redevelopment of the space and I hope that they include some way of celebrating the importance of the former use of the area. We ate some delicious spring rolls that our bodies really didn’t need, resisted the temptation to purchase some over-priced crafty things and grabbed some fine looking vegetables. After a stroll along the marina foreshore, it was back to camp to relax and mentally prepare for the Eagles Collingwood clash.

Fortunately, Mario managed to hook up excellent coverage of the game and set up a good sized TV on the outside of his van. We warned the neighbours about the noise to come and settled in, all doom and gloom for the first quarter followed by lots of celebration and “I told you so” type comments in the other three quarters. It was the best win of the year.

We followed up the footy with an excellent BBQ and more cards (which Mario won)

27/ July 2020 – With a string of Perth appointments looming, it was time to head home to Dowerin to park up the caravan. It is sad to head home after such a short trip, especially seeing the caravan traffic still streaming north and another cold front due this evening. Still, we have had a terrific stay at Coronation Beach and fully understand why the place has such a cult following. I am sure we will be back. If only I had caught a fish it would be 10/10.

We said our farewells to Helen and Mario before heading off south, through Geraldton, Walkaway and on to Mingenew. We stopped off at the bakery, along with the rest of the World. It was doing an amazing trade and rightly so. We sampled a sausage roll and it was excellent and the two bread rolls we bought for our lunch proved to be superb. It’s a long way to drive but the Mingenew Bakery is highly recommended.

From Mingenew, the route took us through Three Springs, Carnamah and Coorow, pretty little towns that look better than their recent economic fortunes would suggest. Partly as a result of the “Royalties for Regions” Program, the towns have been able to maintain and even upgrade public facilities that would otherwise have fallen in to disrepair as the local populations fell. If we are ever going to find a way to attract people back to rural towns, maintaining what we have at present is vital.

We worked our way along a series of back roads to Wongan Hills and finally Dowerin, seeing some pretty country that we have never driven through before. Another month and the country out here will be ablaze with wildflowers and 2020 promises to be a first class season. We may have to hitch up the van again.

 

 

 

 

Alice Springs to Melbourne and Back to Dowerin

October 18, 2018 /

Thursday 4th  to Friday 5th October – The main task over the next couple of days revolved around driving as far south as possible each to reach Mornington, Victoria. We were very keen to get down to see new baby Evie, and her parents Azba and Mike of course. We researched flying from Adelaide but by the time a hire car and accommodation was factored in, doing the big drive made sense.

Between us and Port Augusta lay Coober Pedy and Woomera, both of which we have visited before. A count of our remaining days before we must be back in Perth told us that there was a definite need to put in some long hauls so there would be limited time for sight seeing beyond what was available from the drive. A long haul drive is often an experience in itself. In times past we were capable of 800-900km days but now we find that 650km is a good enough target if successive days of driving are involved.

As one travels south from Alice, the population of the majestic desert oaks steadily dwindles and so the country takes on a more open desert-like appearance. The roadhouses are the major attraction and any plot of land that rises more than 100 metres above its surrounds suddenly becomes a mountain. We really struggled for points of interest. To keep up a routine, we always run a 100km driver swap pattern, meaning that the driver does not get fatigued and the passenger does not get too bored.

The first night, we overnighted off the road at the Pootnoura Creek 2nd Channel. We were nestled up against the Ghan rail line and expected some night interruptions but all was quiet.

The approach to Coober Pedy is always fun. The surreal landscape dotted with what look like large anthills makes one question man’s sanity. To see the sheer industry and effort that has gone into digging little holes in search of little chunks of colourful silicate rock is almost laughable. However, a day or so in Coober Pedy and the opal fever starts to strike everyone and the insanity of the place fades. This time, we by-passed one of Australia’s great frontier towns, apart from refuelling, and pushed on.

Not far south of Coober Pedy is an area of Defence Dept land that has a restricted status. Currently, all access along the Stuart Highway is stopped between 3pm and 11pm on a daily basis up until between 1st October and 10th November. It is quite a large stretch of highway that one does not want to get held up in. It mystifies me that an area of land set aside for the defence forces to test out weapons actually lies across a major national highway but there it is. National security and all that. We have to do our bit eh chaps?

Woomera was also bypassed and we crossed the large flat and treeless area  south of Pimba until the beautiful Flinders ranges come into view near Port Augusta. The large expanse of the salt lake chain provides some spectacular views along the way. Lake Hart is relatively small but accessible from the highway. The Island Lagoon is much bigger and a few good lookouts present along the road. The size and grandeur of these flat expanses of glistening white makes me wonder just what a spectacle the vastness of Lake Torrens or Ayres Lake must be. We haven’t got out there yet but it is on the big list.

From Top Left – The Ghan railway, A night camp, The Murray River at Mannum, Approaching the Grampians, Horsham CBD.

We made Port Augusta in good time and pushed through to check out a camp site in the Horrocks Pass, 30kms south. The worth of the camp proved to be grossly exaggerated in Wikicamps and we decided to drive to the top of Horrocks Pass and stay at a caravan park in Wilmington, a cute little village just over the Flinders Range. An older type guy greeted us, cricket bat in hand, threatening to smash his computer to pieces out of frustration at trying to pay some bills. However, he managed to book us in with a laugh and a smile and we settled down for a pleasant night in bush surroundings. This is a really charming little place and with all the wonderful walking trails and gorges to explore in the Flinders it would make a wonderful cheap base to stay for a few days.

Saturday 6th October – On a previous trip, we had been through Wilmington on a Sunday morning, hoping (but failing) to find a nice little cafe serving breakfast. We can now attest that Wilmington is no livelier on a Saturday morning.

The road south took us through the beautiful Clare Valley. A couple of standout looking little towns grabbed our attention, including Melrose, with a gorgeous little pub, a lovely stream and numerous walk trails into the Mt Remarkable National Park. Could be worth investigating at a later date. There were some markets on in Clare that prompted us to stop and partake in a sausage sizzle, although Christine’s Eagles shirt nearly got her barred.  Fortunately, the guys running the Lions stall hated Collingwood more than the Eagles so we still got served. Christine managed to get her eyebrows done (threading) in the markets (apparently a priority after a couple of weeks in the desert) and I picked up some homemade fig jam (always a priority).

At Tarlee, we left the A32 and cut across to Kapunda and on into the Barossa Valley. At this time of year, the valley is covered in green. As we headed south, the crops gradually improved, from poor pathetic things up around Wilmington that already had been given over to the sheep, to lush fields of wheat, barley and canola. The vines are just starting to sprout their spring coats and the many deciduous fruit trees around the area still bear the flush of flowering. It was a very pretty drive.

We finally settled in for the night on the Murray at Mannum. We have never been to Mannum before and were very taken with both its setting and its streetscape. There is no bridge nearby so a ferry service carries cars across the river. The town, unlike many Murray towns, is built down near the river rather than higher up to escape flooding. Although this has meant some problems for the port in past years, it makes for a very picturesque setting. The caravan park is right on the river itself and there were a good number of water skiers and families fishing. We only saw carp caught.

Sunday 7th October – We packed up the camper and walked down the road to the Mannum Sunday markets. There was the usual craft and potpourri type stuff and an excellent range and variety of street foods, although it was still a bit early for us to indulge. A gadget man sold us a wonderful 12V double fan for the camper. It would have been useful back in the hot weather.

From Mannum, we drove through Murray Bridge, Tailem Bend and picked up the Dukes Highway to go east all the way to Horsham in the Victorian Wimmera District. The roads by now are either full dual carriageway or single lanes with passing lanes every 5 kms so driving is easy. The country continued to be green, with hay cutting starting into the Mallee Region. Some crops in the Wimmera had obviously got off to a poor start and it was by no means a good season. However, the dams appear full and the stock fat so the Victorians have not suffered like the NSW and Qld farmers.

The caravan park in Horsham is a small council affair on the banks of the Wimmera River, an interesting river that flows out of the Grampians and into a series of swamps and lakes. It is said to hold good stocks of fish and I found myself wishing I had packed a rod. Horsham itself is a decent sized city with around 17,000 people and all amenities, yet still easy enough to move around in. We went for a walk into the CBD to find a supermarket and found all the shopping that one would expect anywhere.

Monday 8th October – After a leisurely rise and a spot of shopping, we drove on to the Grampians and Halls Gap. The map indicated two ways to Halls Gap, the short way along C222 and a longer way on C216 through Stawell. Naturally, we chose the short way. As the road began to enter the National Park, a sign indicated that the road was unsuitable for caravans beyond Zumsteins (wherever that was). Mmm? We pressed on and the road looked fine. Zumsteins proved to be a quaint little picnic area so we stopped to read the information boards. No mention of caravans or road conditions. Four people sat having a picnic and we enquired with them about the road. “Oh it’s fine,” was the answer. “You will be OK.”

The road indeed became unsuitable for caravans and only just barely suitable for our camper. It was a full mountain climb with numerous hairpin bends and totally blind corners. There was quite a lot of traffic coming towards us, mostly appearing suddenly around corners taking up considerably more than their fair share of road. Christine refrained from screaming and I crushed the life out of the steering wheel while we put up with 24kms of torture. Numerous signs pointing to lookouts and walk trails flashed by but we ignored everything until we finally reached the sanctuary of Halls Gap.

It is very easy to fall in love with Halls Gap. A delightful village with lots of little eateries is strung along the main street and bisected by Stony Creek. The caravan park is strung out opposite, bringing campers right into the town. All around are the rampart walls of the mountains, with beautiful tall eucalypts, lush ferns and lots of wildflowers. There were a good number of campers, mostly South Australian, with Victorian school holidays coming to an end.

We set up camp, had lunch, explored the village then set off back onto the road that had tortured us to investigate some of the lookouts and waterfalls. Without a camper trailing behind, it is a lot less nerve racking but care is still needed on the blind bends, a safety point lost on some people. There must be some nasty accidents.

We visited the beautiful Silverband Falls, well named because they present as a narrow long fall of silver set in a fern filled gully. Reed Lookout is a forestry lookout giving superb views over the ranges to the farm lands beyond. A 1km walk down a good track takes you to The Balconies, where a number of rock ledges hang precariously over a sheer drop to the forest far below. The scenery is absolutely breath-taking. The Boroka Lookout offered equally magnificent views. An afternoon’s driving and walking does not even start to scratch the surface of all that there is to offer in the Grampians. It is a definite “must return”.

The Grampians

Tuesday 9th October – We travelled SE through Stawell, Ararat and on past Ballarat. The freeway took us all the way to Melbourne and over the West Gate Bridge. Somehow, we narrowly averted the disaster of the last time we entered Melbourne this way and managed to change lanes at the last minute to avoid exiting prematurely in South Melbourne. Then it was into the dreaded tunnel, which seems to run for ever and is filled with huge car eating monsters. Enormous growling trucks occupy every lane and travel at a terrifying speed. The electronic signs say “AVOID LAND CHANGES” but this obviously does not apply to trucks, which fill every available gap as soon as one opens up. I should have worn the same underpants that I wore in the Grampians so I didn’t  have to ruin two sets.

The freeway took us most of the way south to Mornington and the Nepean Hwy did the rest and we were soon set up in the Mornington Caravan Park. We had come this far to drop in on Azba and Mike to meet little Evie, now all of 4 months old. They live in Mt Eliza, only about 6kms from where we camped so we headed over in the evening. Apparently, all babies are cute but Evie is definitely right up there on the cuteness scale. She has Azba’s eyes so that would do it. She had some shots the previous day so the grumps had set in a little but she still seemed to acknowledge us. Pickle, the tiny little miniature dachshund with attitude, demanded far more attention than little Evie. It was scratch behind the ears, give me a tummy rub or I’ll bark you off the planet. Mike seems to have her measure though with a kibble controlled food approach. Christine had knitted Pickle a wonderful multi-coloured coat, a thing she does as “passenger therapy” on long drives. Pickle seemed to like it for a while then showed signs of wanting to eat it. It will probably be put away until next winter.

Wednesday 10 October – The first order of the day was to get the car in for a much needed service. As always seems to happen, they found more that was needed so it took most of the day to give it a birthday. We hung around camp and shivered. The maximum for the day was forecast at 17 but I doubt that it got much above 14 with a fresh breeze to add to the wind chill. Christine used the camp kitchen to cook up some meals and lunch meats, while I read and did a few little repairs on the camper. We did take a 2km walk down to the local Aldi but the wind froze us solid.

Once the car was retrieved, we went over to Az and Mike’s before turning in.

Thursday 11 October – We had a much needed sleep in today. In the late morning we drove into Mornington itself to walk the streets. The temperature was a definite improvement on the previous few days and there were quite a few people out and about. Mornington is a pretty little place with a main street full of great cafes, restaurants and a couple of pubs. It must really hum during summer holiday times. We liked the name of a spot called “Albert’s Burgers and Beer”. We shared a burger called “The Albert”. The patty was hand pressed using Angus beef and there was a delicious cheese, amazing pickles and a spicy sauce. We shared one in order to reduce the damage but I hated having to share such a wonderful creation. We washed it down with a local Mornington Pale Ale. Why not?

Around Mornington and gorgeous little Evie

In the evening, we were back with Az, Mike and Evie to say our farewells. It is wonderful to see them both happy. They are tired, what new parents aren’t.  Azba is a wonderful mother and Mike makes a great dad. Thanks guys for sharing a little part of your life with us.

Friday 12 October – We packed up ready for the long trip home, a distance of 3365km (to Dowerin). To save a few kilometres and avoid a trip back through the dreaded tunnel and Westgate Bridge, we booked a car ferry ticket on the Sorrento to Queenscliff ferry. At around $120 for the car and camper, it was not a saving but it was a very pleasant way to go. The drive along the coast was great, seeing all the beautiful little coves and headlands that dot the Mornington Peninsula. We had booked a noon ferry but the ticket was good for an earlier departure so the fact that we were ahead of schedule did not matter.

Once aboard, we could leave the car and wander around the boat, a three deck affair with food, coffee and bar available. The scenery is worth watching as the ferry follows the coast past Portsea and across the entrance to Port Phillip and on into Queenscliff. The trip takes around 40 minutes and is well worth the little bit of extra money for the experience and the lack of panic.

Queenscliff is a gorgeous little town, full of quaint wooden buildings and some impressive stone structures. It boasts an extensive rail museum and a working steam train. After a short drive around to take in the sights, we drove north to Geelong, skirting the worst of the city and picked up the highway to Ballarat.

Somehow, we had to go through the centre of Ballarat (I’m sure that could have been avoided) but we were at least quite familiar with the city from our last trip and soon joined the A300 freeway to take us westwards in comfort. The towns we had been through only a few days before flashed past, Ararat, Stawell, Horsham etc and by the time we stopped for the night in Kaniva on the Western Hwy we were only 20kms or so shy of the SA border.

Saturday 13th October – Another day of driving, swapping every 100kms. We followed the Western Hwy into SA where it becomes the Dukes Hwy and traverses wheat/sheep farming lands and towns such as Keith and Coonalpyn and on to the Murray River town of Tailem Bend. We had heard a radio program that talked about an art program that involves the painting of the many wheat silos that dot the landscape in SA. It was with great delight that we took in some of the magnificent artistic efforts. Indeed, some people make a tour out of following the silo art trails. The ones we saw were amazing examples.

Once at Murray Bridge, the choice is to stick to the expressway to Adelaide and put up with getting through the city, or head north through the Barossa and put up with lesser roads and frequent small towns. We chose the expressway, whizzing through the Adelaide Hills, taking the dizzy descent down the seemingly endless pass to the coastal plain then pushing through the Saturday shopping traffic to find the A1. We spent most of the trip sitting behind a large semi trailer, figuring it would guide us through the traffic, which it did until eventually peeling off and heading on the road to Gawler.

The A1 heading north of Adelaide must be one of the ugliest approaches to a major city anywhere. It traverses some low saltbush scrub country and seems to be covered in a ramshackle arrangement of light industry and poor farmlands that are littered with decaying machinery. It is really not a good look at all until after Port Wakefield.

We drove hard, through Port Pirie and Port Augusta and on to Kimba. Once heading west from Port Augusta, we really felt as if we were going home. Kimba is a wheat/sheep town at the top of the Eyre Peninsula. It has one of the best pieces of silo art we came across, a “Big Galah” and a free caravan park. What? Free? Yes, they make their recreation facilities available to caravanners. It pays off. We have used it before and the town benefits from the extra customers that results. There were more caravans in Kimba than many of the actual caravan parks we had used on the way over. Way to go Kimba!

Sunday 14th October – Oh no! Not the Nullabor! Some love it, I hate it. A couple of days driving staring at low scrub does not make for a magic experience but then, each to their own. We had a glorious display of lightning with thunder to accompany during the night and a steady amount of rain, which fortunately abated in the morning, allowing us to pack up without drama.

After Kimba, there is still quite a bit of farming land and woodland through to Ceduna before the real open country is encountered.

Most of the drive west was wet, if not overly so. It seemed as if there were some really terrible looking storms around us but they never actually hit us too badly. We passed through Nullabor and on to Eucla. The aim was to get through the quarantine process (always a pain) then stop for the night. However, 25kms short of the border, we were hit by torrential rain, so bad that driving on was not really an option, and we joined 4 or 5 other rigs in a large gravel pit, close to the cliff edge. It took a few goes to actually set up camp and at one point we were setting up in a large shallow lake. The rain was savage!

Monday 15th October – The rain stopped during the night but the morning was still overcast we the occasional small shower. We got through the quarantine with the usual sense of frustration. I really don’t know why they bother with all the advertising of how to prepare because it does no good. You rock up with veges sorted according to the web site rules, the pot of honey ready to hand over and all uncertain things ready to declare. “That’s OK, that’s good, etc etc. Now we need to look in the camper and all through the car.” One might as well just leave everything as is and let them have all the fun of discovery.

After Eucla, the weather steadily improved, although a steady headwind did nasty things to our fuel economy. The boredom of the open treeless plain slowly gave way to woodlands and we pushed on through Madura, Cocklebiddy and finally, Balladonia, the last stop before the “civilization” of Norseman. We reached Norseman with a couple of daylight driving hours left but I felt drained and a roadside stop about 15kms north was enough for us. It was hard to find a spot that wasn’t a mud patch, after all the recent rain and we ended up quite close to the road. The thundering road trains really didn’t bother us because we just crashed out.

Tuesday 16th October – The final leg, at least to Dowerin. The rain had almost completely gone, with just the odd few spots as we drove north to Coolgardie. Then it was heading west again back towards home, watching the woodlands give way to low mallee scrub then, near Southern Cross, the familiar sight of wheatfields. The crops in Western Australia are so much better than those in the eastern states this year and even those improved dramatically from Merredin through to Dowerin. We had lunch in Merredin and got home in the early afternoon, giving us enough time to conquer the main part of the unpacking and cleaning. The rains over the last month had sported a fresh crop of weeds to deal with in the back yard. On entering the house though, there was a very noticeable smell of gas and Christine discovered that the oven was on a very low setting. No flame was present, it had probably gone out and the dregs of the bottle seeped out. We opened everything up and aired out the house, thankful that we did indeed have a house left. Perhaps an updated oven is in order or maybe we even turn the gas off when we leave would be smarter.

All in all it was a whirlwind trip, with some 8,500kms covered in a month. We keep saying we will slow down and take time to smell the daisies but somehow…….

Great Central Road – September 2018

October 3, 2018 /

Thursday 20 September –We were packed and ready with the car and camper trailer loaded by the time John and Julie swung through Dowerin to start our big trip across the Great Central Road. We were on the road by 10:30 and lunched in Merredin before pushing on towards Coolgardie. We made a wonderful first night camp at Lake Douglas, a pretty little reservoir off the road between Coolgardie and Kalgoorlie. A roaring fire held off the cool of the evening and Christine’s slow cooked lamb done in the thermal cooker satisfied the bellies, along with a few beers and wines of course.

Friday 21 September – Kalgoorlie was meant to be by-passed but in the end we did go in to find a Super Cheap Auto store so John could buy a UHF radio. He had bought a hand-held but it was playing up so a new dash unit was in order. From there it was on to Menzies. For us, it was the first time north of Broad Arrow. The woodlands north of Kalgoorlie are some of the most beautiful anywhere, with gimlets and salmon gums creating a stunning area to drive through. The woodlands form part of the World’s largest surviving Mediterranean climate woodland.

Menzies was quiet, tiny and impeccably clean. The town was started in 1895 but a mere 10 years later, most miners had left. A beautiful stone town hall had been built in 1896 and a clock ordered  in 1905 but the ship carrying it from England sank and the building remained clockless until 2000. Today, Menzies seems to be little more than a rest stop for the miners working around the district. A lot of people come to see the sculptures on nearby Lake Ballard (we didn’t go this time) or to have a coffee and cake at the cafe (which we did do this time).

From Menzies we headed out to a stop at Niagara Dam, built in 1896-7 for the railway as it pushed north to Leonora. It had a bit of water in it and made for a picturesque camping spot. We marveled at the history of the construction. The need for a water supply was identified in the WA Parliament with working starting 6 months later and the dam completed a further 9 months on. That’s a bit faster than the wheels of government turn these days. Another classic sight was the number plate collection adorning the roadhouse. They came from every corner of the planet and must have taken years to collect. Now, the roadhouse is unattended and the building locked behind a secure fence.

Next stop was the ghost town of Kookynie, served by a single pub that has survived the years. The pub was once one of four, all on a corner of the same crossroads. We had a cooling beer and inspected all the historical mementos decorating the walls. A few other groups of travellers had the same idea so there was a merry atmosphere. Willy, the local horse, obviously wanted to join in the fun and stood patiently at the front door waiting to be let in. He would peer through the windows on occasions. Apparently the proprietor would make up a meal of carrots for him and it was about time for a snack.  We headed out to the cars to make our own lunch but Willy decided to join us and things got difficult, until he finally heard his own carrots being prepared and trotted off to the rear of the pub.

From Kookynie, 140kms of good dirt road took us to Malcolm, a rail shunting area about 30kms out of Leonora. Here another railway dam had been built, in packed earth this time rather than the concrete of Niagara. There was a good body of water present and lots of water birds. We set up camp right on the earth wall and relaxed in front of a very restful watery landscape. A flock of four pelican made a beautiful landing in front of us and a few darts fished for some unknown species of fish. Another camper had a go with some yabby nets but apparently the yabbies of yesteryear had all been eaten when carp and perch were somehow introduced.

Chicken Frajitas (John and Julie) maintained the standard of cuisine we had set for ourselves.

From Top Left – Menizes Town Hall, Menzies Pub, John and Julie’s Rig, Our rig in Leonora, Number plates Menzies Roadhouse

Niagara Dam, Malcolm Dam, Niagara Dam, Willy the horse at Kookynie Pub, Old Kookynie, Willy makes friends with John

Saturday 22 September – We decided to drive in to Leonora for a quick look before heading Laverton. Just as we neared the end of the gravel road out of the dam, a loud crack signaled the end of our back window in the car. A stone coming off the camper had shattered it. Fortunately, the window was fitted with a special UV film which held everything together and it really looked as though it would hold up for the trip across the Great Central Road. In Leonora, we bought some heavy duty duct tape and strengthened the bond on the outside. In hindsight, we should have covered the window with cardboard, as many others do. This is our second shattered rear window so we seem to be slow on the uptake.

Leonora is currently going through one of its periods of decline. The bustle of 2000 people a decade or so ago has dwindled to around 500 and the main street is full of boarded up shops. As with Menzies, everything is very neat and clean (apart from a layer of red dust). No doubt some new mining fad will see the people return.

We reached Laverton before lunch and set up camp in the caravan park to get ready for the Eagles- Melbourne Preliminary Final. The local pub, called the Desert Inn, had a great sports bar with big screen TV and we had front spot. I expected a larger crowd but there were only a few in the end to see the Eagles demolish the Ds. There was another group out the back in the beer garden that got noisier as the game progressed and a big guy rolled into the Sports Bar and let rip with a very loud “Go the Eagles!” He then proceeded to tell everyone that he could shout as much as he liked because he owned the pub. Julie was very quick off the marked and replied, “Good, you can shout us a drink then.” So we all got a round of drinks on the house. No one else seemed so lucky. The free round was probably the tipping point and we all staggered home mindful that public drunkenness in Laverton is probably not tolerated.

After the squid rings and wedges consumed during the footy we settled for a few nibbles for dinner.

Sunday 23 September – With everything packed tight, fuel containers full and tyre pressures down, we set forth on the start of the Great Central Road. Some people call this the “Gunbarrel” but that actually refers to another abandoned track further north. A few 4WD die hards use it but travelling on it is generally discouraged. The Great Central Road traverses the mostly aboriginal lands between Laverton and Uluru, a distance of 1,126km, largely unsealed but formed to a reasonable standard. The road passes through a number of Aboriginal communities where fuel and basic supplies can be bought. Two permits must be obtained and carried to traverse Aboriginal Lands, one for the WA part and one for the NT section. Both were obtained on-line and were free.

The road was in excellent condition,n at first with few signs of the promised heavy corrugations and bulldust sections. We kept the speed right down anyway to avoid damage to the rigs and stopped at regular intervals to check for things coming adrift. There was little to see, just endless plains of savannah land, mulga scrub and a scattering of trees. Even wildlife was scarce, with a few camel herds providing amusement. They do not appear the least bit afraid of humans and at one stage we caught up with John and Julie to find them stopped and completely surrounded by curious camels.

The most common sight was dead cars, mostly sedans with the odd 4WD thrown in. I was sorry that I didn’t start to count them out of Laverton because there were literally hundreds. All were burnt out and many lay upside down. A decent truck with a portable crusher and a crane could make good money out here.

We stopped at a little roadhouse called Tjukayiria to pay $2.26 a litre for fuel. The long bearded fellow there told us to be mindful of the fact that Warakurna (Giles) was closing at noon the next day for the Queen’s Birthday holiday and that they operated on NT time, making them close at 10:30am WA time. A few calculations told us that there was no way we would make it in time so we resolved to camp early, about 70kms out of Warburton and to make sure we could get between there and Docker River the next day. We found a secluded camp off the road and lit a roaring fire. The nights have been surprisingly mild. We were kitted out for some real cold stuff but some nights we managed to sit out in shorts and T-shirt.

Christine’s excellent spaghetti bolognaise capped off a great day.

From Top Left – Camels, Victory for the Eagles at Laverton Pub, A bush camp, Gill Pinnacle, Unveiling the camp oven.

Monday 24 September – After the usual pack up and breakfast, it was on towards Warburton. Not far out we spied what we thought was two bustards (bush turkeys), standing in the  middle of the road. As we drew closer, I realised that rather than bustards with short legs, they were in fact black swans. They stared at our approach before taking to the sky. A short way on we crossed the Warburton River, a mere puddle, which explained why the swans preferred to stand on the road.

Warburton was a bit of an eye-opener. A heavily fortified compound served as a camp ground.  Vehicles with smashed windscreens and lots of broken bits were in abundance. One battered 4WD with a full length roof rack had a huge red kangaroo on top. Whether it died from gunshot wounds, a spear or a semi trailer is not known but it was surely destined for the camp fire.

After Warbuton, the road deteriorated, with some 4 to 5km stretches of real bone shaking corrugations. The land was still pretty much flat and uninteresting for much of the way and the wildlife remained scarce.

We passed through Warakurna which, as predicted, was closed for the holiday and pushed on towards Docker River. After Warakurna, a few interesting landforms started to appear and a range of mountains in the distance gave us a focus. We made camp at the “Behind the Range” campsite, complete with amazing views of Gill Pinnacle and the surrounding ranges, brilliantly lit up as the sun set. A good bush fire was lit and Christine prepared a wonderful meal of Lamb Boulangere (chops, onion, leek, cabbage and potato) in the camp oven. It was another top meal. We have not let isolation beat out culinary needs.

Tuesday 25 September – The last leg of the GCR was ahead of us. The WA/NT border was only 20kms or so further on from the night camp. From reports down the road, we expected the road to deteriorate greatly on the NT side but were pleasantly surprised to find some roadworks on the go and a good stretch of freshly graded surface all the way into the Aboriginal Community of Docker River. John needed fuel but I calculated I could avoid the $2.45/L and make it to Yalara. We had to hang around and wait for the store to open at 10am but were soon on our way east following beside the Petermann Ranges.

We took a brief stop to look at Lasseter’s Cave, where Lasseter spent some four weeks or so after his camels bolted. He was helped by Aboriginals but died while attempting to walk the 140km to the Olgas.

As we head east, the groves of Desert Oaks become more prominent. The Desert Oak is a member of the casaurina family and not a true oak. They are a very majestic tree and provide a lot of much needed shade in a very arid environment.

The road did start to break up a bit and the corrugations deepen but overall, the surface was better than expected. The GCR emerges at the Olgas (Kata Tjuta) and the long awaited bitumen commences around the time the famed formation comes in view. From far to the west, the site of the Olgas is really amazing, probably the best aspect of all, and one that we had not seen when here previously. Still, it was with a huge sense of relief that we left the dust and corrugations behind and wound around the Olgas, past Uluru and on to the Yalara campground.

From Top Left – Lasseter’s Cave, Camp at Gill Pinnacle, Desert Oaks, Lasseter’s Cave, The Olgas

The GCR is one of those trips that just begs to be ticked off but in truth it does not have a lot going for it other than saving a lot of kilometres. It is mostly a long stretch of poor quality road with few attractions and a high chance of damage to vehicles. As a 4WD adventure it is not really very challenging other than bolting on all the bits that fall off the vehicles. Would we do it again? Probably not but then it has been ticked off the list.

Charnley River Station and Jandamarra

July 30, 2011 /

Charnley River Station. What a hidden gem! We have never before ventured off the Gibb River Road and travelled the 47kms North that it takes to reach this delightful station stay. Previously known as Beverley Springs, the station has recently changed hands and the facilities are currently going through a bit of a re-vamp. The camping area consists of a large expanse of green lawn along the edges of a creek with numerous trees providing good areas of shade.

On arrival, we were greeted enthusiastically by one of the managers who invited us to pick a spot. Later, she came over, took the camping fees and gave us detailed directions to the numerous sites and walks on offer.

Many of the attractions are some distance out, needing a rounding trip drive of nearly 100kms to visit all the gorges. Not only does this require factoring in to fuel calculations when planning a trip across the Gibb, but it also presents a potential problem for the station managers in keeping track of visitors whereabouts. To assist with this, a “log in – log out”  system is kept for those venturing off on day trips. If someone does not return, at least they have some idea of where to look.

Top Pool at Donkey Springs

With camp set up and lunch settled, we headed out to a nearby waterhole called Donkey Springs, across 8kms of reasonable station tracks. Donkey Springs is a wonderful series of pools and small waterfalls, complete with water lilies and even a bit of rock art. We hiked for a bit, admiring the lovely setting, before taking refreshing dip in the third pool. We had the whole place to ourselves.

We headed back to camp for refreshment before taking a 1.5km walk to the nearby Paradise Pool and Paradise Falls. While these were both pretty spots, neither ranked as a “paradise”, with the water flowing having slowed to a mere trickle. There was enough of a clean pool to entice us in for a quick dip but we didn’t stay long, getting back to camp in time to settle in. Our neighbours, two women (Diana and Onnie), were having a spot of bother with their solar charging system so we played around with that but failed to make much headway. We did spend some time admiring their wonderful off-road caravan called an Adventure Trek. This is the best of its kind I have seen so it might be time to lock away the credit card until we calm down.

The next day we explored further, driving approximately 35km North to Grevillia Gorge. This is a very beautiful gorge, possibly the nicest in the Kimberley. It reminds me of Bell Gorge, with its succession of tiered gorges and big waterfalls but whereas Bell Gorge has little vegetation in the gorges themselves, Grevillia has some lovely garden like settings around the pools. We were totally enchanted with the place.

Grevillia Gorge

Access to the main gorge is interesting, requiring a descent on a metal ladder. Christine nearly freaked out and provided some measure of entertainment for other visitors.We met Diana and Onnie there, and drove back with them to share lunch at the Plain Creek crossing. They pushed on South to Dilly Gorge, but we were worn out and elected to go back to camp for a rare afternoon nap.

Waterfall at Greviilia Gorge

View to the 3rd pool – Grevillia Gorge

Grevillia Gorge

That night we joined Diana, Onnie and another set of neighbours for fireside drinks. We were entertained with some excellent guitar playing from both Glen and Onnie. A beautiful night.

Dillie Gorge

From Charnley, we drove on to Windjana Gorge to set up camp for a night time performance of Jandamarra. This exciting play tells the story of Pigeon (Jandamarra) who lead an 8 year war against the white settlers in the Bunuba lands during the late 19th Century. Jandamarra lived in the “limestone” country of which Windjana is a part. Indeed, Windjana Gorge was the scene of one of the biggest battles of the war itself. With the lights playing on the walls of the ancient Devonian Reef, the play was quite a spiritual experience. The acting was excellent and the energy of the cast was quite amazing. I think that actually being in the original story’s setting made quite a difference. The only down-side was the temperature. It got quite cold, even though we had warm clothes and blankets.

The next day was a big one; we were up early, packed camp and drove to Broome. There we raced around town picking up some materials needed for some work at One Arm Point then did some personal shopping. This was followed by the 200km drive to One Arm Point. The 100km of unsealed road had deteriorated badly over the school holidays and was heavily corrugated in places. It was one of those cases where the road always looked flatter on the other side. We crawled into the Thorsby house at One Arm Point just before sundown, absolutely exhausted but ready to prepare ourselves for a week’s work at the school.

The Duncan Road 10-12 July 2011

July 17, 2011 /

Since our last post, we have driven to Broome, parked the yacht with friends, and headed up the Dampier Peninsular for a week of work at One Arm Point Remote Community School. We thoroughly enjoyed the week, largely helping out in Admin with a whole variety of tasks that badly needed catching up on. The school is a happy place to work, with a dedicated crew of teachers and AIEOs. The kids all seemed cheerful and well behaved. It makes a pleasant change.

Map of Duncan Rd

With the school holidays, we drove back to Broome, swapped a few items around in the boat and set up the car for camping. What followed was a quick drive South East along Great Northern Highway to Halls Creek, with only a brief stop at Fitzroy Crossing to catch up with Des and Annette Thornton. Our target destination was Timber Creek, in the NT, where we had a date with a large group all congregating to celebrate a friend’s 50th birthday.

 

 

 

 

From Halls Creek, we took the Duncan Road, a beef cattle road that winds South then East and finally loops back North to crisscross the WA-NT border several times before emerging onto the Victoria Hwy about 20km East of the WA/NT border. The road traverses some very lonely country; we saw no more than 10 people in the three days we spent on the road. Two of the nights we camped completely alone, quite a unique experience in the busy Kimberley tourist season. There are quite a few wonderful spots along the way to explore and camp but in some ways the beauty of the drive lies in the vast open plains we crossed in the Southern sections. Here the knee-high Mitchell grass stretched to the horizon with almost no sign of the coarse Kimberley grass, spear grass or spinifex. The road was excellent, although in places it has probably not been graded in several years. We encountered very few corrugations and even where we could see nothing more than two wheel ruts in the grass, the road was flat and free of rock.

Duncan Rd – Southern section

Further North, the road winds through a series of low hills and rocky sections or small creek crossings become more common  yet still the track is in better condition than parts of Great Northern Hwy around New Norcia. On one stretch, a dingo was asleep in the middle of the road. As we approached, he took off, running in front of us for a couple of hundred metres before finally getting smart and taking to the grass. The bush turkeys (Bustards) were also common on the grasslands.

Palm Springs

 

 

 

Our first night was spent at Sawpit Gorge, a mere 47km South of Halls Creek. This delightful gap in the Elvire Range has a lovely swimming hole and some spectacular rock formations. Nearby Palm Springs is also a beautiful spot suitable for swimming. We enjoyed the company of two other camps, a Victorian couple and a single guy from Noosa but now of no fixed address. We all got together so well and had a terrific night around a wonderful campfire.

Sawpit Gorge

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The second day we pushed on to Marella Gorge on Nicholson Station. This is is a very large gorge, more like a Pilbara formation when viewed from the top. We were able to access both the bottom of the gorge and the top, allowing us to see it in all its grandeur as well as camp right next to the river. The freshwater crocodiles were numerous on this stretch of river but it didn’t deter us from having a swim. We had the whole place to ourselves, save for the odd kangaroo coming down to drink, the regular howling of dingoes at night and the thrashing of the crocs on the opposite bank. A wonderful spot.

Marella Gorge

On the third day we drove North, stopping to explore the river crossing of the Negri River. This was a strongly flowing river, pouring a lot of water into the nearby Ord. No wonder that Argyle Dam is still overflowing. Another stop was at the Old Ord River Station homestead on the banks of  Forrest Creek. The stone buildings are rapidly decaying but there is enough still there to get a feel for the isolation and difficulties of earlier times.

Old Ord River Station

Our last night was spent at the Behn River crossing. Once again, we swam for a while in the river, relaxed at lot, and soaked up the solitude and majesty of the surroundings. If you want to get away from it all, this is a great place to be. Unfortunately, fishing appears to be a poor option in this part of the Kimberley. Barramundi are out anyway because the rivers and streams are all flowing into the Ord River above the Argyle Dam and Barramundi need access to the sea to complete their life cycle. Strangely, we also failed with Sooty Grunter and Cherabin (freshwater prawns), both of which I thought would have been abundant in these waters.

The final morning was an easy drive to the Victoria Hwy then on to Timber Creek for the big birthday bash.

South Coast Feb 2011

February 5, 2011 /

Terry and Christine have slipped away for a quick caravaning trip along the South Coast. We have not visited the area between Esperance and Albany before so we are treating this trip as a bit of an exploration.

Tuesday 1 February 2011
We left Dowerin mid morning and headed to Merredin, stopping at Nungarin along the way for lunch. It was good to be on the road again with our trusty little caravan behind us. The radio news was full of doom and gloom for the Northern Queenslanders with the biggest cyclone in recorded history bearing down on them. We drove East through farming lands with dams full and many trees down following the weekend’s freak thunderstorms.
Our original intent was to head for Esperance via Coolgardie but at Merredin we made a late change and went South to Bruce Rock, Narembeen and Hyden, staying overnight at the Wave Rock Caravan Park. This is a lovely spot with excellent facilities. We even managed a late swim in their swimming pool.

wave-rock.jpg

Wednesday 2 February 2011
In the morning, we had a look at the famous Wave Rock. This arguably competes with the Pinnacles and the Bell Tower for the title of most over-rated WA Tourist Attraction. It photographs much better than it presents in the flesh (but then most of us do). We got some backpackers to take the obligatory Wave Rock photo to prove we had been there, took a 1.4km walk to “Hippo’s Yawn” then hitched up the van to drive South through Varley and Lake King to Ravensthorpe.
After lunch at Ravensthorpe, we changed a tyre on the caravan, one giving continual problems with a slow but persistent leak. Then we headed to the coast and Hopetoun. Much of the promised prosperity of Ravensthorpe and Hopetoun has been revived with the reopening of the mine but the signs of over-capitalisation are still visible. The place has amazing potential and the area is rich in visual beauty and natural assets but they still remain off the tourism mainstream.
From Hopetoun, we drove 33kms East along the coast (half unsealed) to Mason’s Bay. Here there is a wonderful camping ground and we managed to get a superb spot right on the water’s edge next to the boat ramp. A short fish only produced one herring and one small salmon but it was easy and fun. Life could be a lot worse.
masons-beach.jpg

Thursday 3 February 2011
The day was windy and grey, with water activities looking decidedly unattractive. A tyre on the caravan that had developed a slow leak was still giving trouble and I could not isolate the leakage point so we drove into Hopetoun to look for a tyre fixer.
The man at the tyre place was equally puzzled, with no leaks showing, until he noticed that the air was actually escaping through the back of the rim itself. It certainly didn’t look rusted but it was split somewhere. With the tyre on a new rim, we headed back, checking out the various beaches and spots along the coast. The Southern Ocean was really wild and dangerous looking and fishing was not even considered.
The rest of the day was spent reading, sleeping and talking with fellow campers, a friendly bunch.

Friday 4 February
Today we drove West, through Hopetoun, Ravenswood, Jerramungup and on to Bremer Bay. The scenery along the way was not much to consider and the occasional interesting vista was usually partly obscured anyway with the persistent misting drizzle. It seldom really rained but was seldom totally dry.
Jerramungup was much as we had expected, OK if you don’t have to live there. What was amazing was the amount of green pasture in evidence at this time of year. Obviously, the area has had some good Summer rains. Some paddocks had even been sown with some kind of pasture seed.
Bremer Bay is a quiet place, set on the Wellstead Estuary. It has some wonderful ocean launching facilities and a very protected little anchorage. They seem to have two caravan parks and we stayed in the town facility on the edge of the estuary. The rain persisted so we didn’t do much but set up and stay in the van. The town was quiet, the school holiday crowds having departed but not yet replaced by grey nomads.
Christine tried out our new oven, a glass bowl affair with a halogen powered heating element and fan forced convection. It did a fantastic job with a coupkle of lanb shanks and roast potatoes.

Saturday 5 February
The day was still grey with some drizzle. We decided Bremer Bay held little appeal at this stage so we drove West some 50km to Millers Point, a camping area on the Beaufort Estuary. This is a tiny piece of paradise. Wonderful shady camping spots extend for some distance around the estuary and we selected one where we could sit in camping chairs and fish right out in front. A tiny brilliant blue wren hopped up to almost touching distance and green silvereyes where in abundance.
We checked out two guys fishing just near where we were. They had 4 black bream so we were immediately inspired. Christine caught a nice bream almost straight away while I caught another one that was just around legal size and was released. After several missed runs, we stopped fishing for a spot of lunch. Unfortunately, the fish had gone off the bite when we resumed our efforts after lunch.
black-bream.jpg
We walked for about a kilometre checking out other camping spots and were amazed by the extent of the estuary, which could be seen snaking up the valley well into the distance. Several boats were launched and headed off well upstream. Further down the beach, another fisherman could be seen cleaning a big mullet and a truly massive bream.
With the rain finally gone and the odd bit of blue poking through the clouds, things are looking up.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Crusades

October 31, 2010 /

Last Friday afternoon, we rushed down to the Dowerin Telecentre to pick up our tickets for “Robin the Hood”, a musical comedy production being put on by the Dowerin Music and Drama Society. At $25 a head with a bar open and supper provided, it had to be a bargain night’s entertainment.
Much to our horror, we found that the audience was required to turn up in medieval costume and that there were prizes for the best dressed etc. Fearing that we would let down the others who would be on our table, we stopped in at the “Tin Dog Second Hand Shop” hoping to gain some inspiration. Alas, there was nothing suitable.
medieval-costume.jpgAfter much searching on the Internet and rummaging in wardrobes, Christine came up with a workable plan. An old tablecloth was sacrificed for Terry’s peasant tunic and careful layering and some clever use of ribbon turned Christine into a Lady of the Manor.
A quick stop at the neighbours’ for a photo shot then it was off down the road to the Town Hall. Having rounded the corner of the Town Hall the awful reality dawned. We couldn’t see anyone else in costume. A few made some encouraging noises as we entered the hall but we scanned the room in vain. No one was dressed up. It was like one of those horrible dreams where you are naked in public but other people don’t seem to notice.
The production was a huge success and very entertaining. At the end of “interval” the prize winners for the best dressed were announced. Amazingly, Christine won First Prize and I was Runner-up. We now have $30 worth of vouchers to the local sweet shop and a well-established reputation as eccentric loonies. It sort of goes with the territory anyway seeing as we have a yacht in the back yard 170km from the coast.

Bluff Knoll

June 7, 2010 /

Over the Foundation Day long weekend, Emma and I had the opportunity to climb Bluff Knoll. I used my iPhone to track our trip… here’s a sample of how we did!

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