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.

The wonderful view from the Riverside Caravan Park in Blanchetown

An early morning view

It is illegal to release carp back into 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.

18-24 February – Sailing in the Lincoln National Park

The Lincoln National Park covers a large peninsula just South of Port Lincoln township. It is a very scenic area with some wonderful coves, beaches and rocky headlands. It is easily accessible by both road and sea and, of course, we chose the latter method.

We launched only a couple of days after retrieving the boat at Tumby Bay. A visit to the mechanic to again address the problem of the engine cutting out proved successful, with the problem finally being found to have nothing to do with the fuel or mixture but a very touchy stop button on the end of the tiller handle. Once disabled, the motor behaved perfectly, making docking a relatively easy process once again.

We sailed across Boston Bay to Spaulding Cove, a very beautiful bay offering protection from all winds except the North. The sail was wonderful, with the breeze steadily building, a sign of things to come. After exploring Spaulding Cove, we chose to anchor in Surfleet Cove, giving wonderful protection against the now mounting SW wind. We were to spend the next three nights here, all thoughts of leaving squashed by the site of the seas outside our little haven.

Sailing in Spaulding Cove

Surfleet Cove

Surfleet Cove proved to be a wonderful place to be stuck. There were enough fish on tap to keep us fed, with King George Whiting, Herring, Salmon, Snook and Squid. The first time I cleaned some fish and threw the heads overboard, several very large blue swimmer crabs appeared under the boat. We were swinging too much to hang crab nets from the boat so the next day we used the dinghy to put out some pots. Unfortunately, the only crabs we caught were small rock crab like things. It became a source of great frustration as we saw the big blues arrive if we threw fish scraps over but seemed unable to catch them in nets. Eventually, on a low tide, I lowered the keel enough to ground us and we managed one crab in a drop net. A single crab has never tasted so good.

Ashore was a well appointed camping ground, with two or three camps on most days. There is also a well developed walk trail around the National Park and we went ashore on one occasion to walk the 5km return walk to the next camp area at the Southern end of Spaulding Cove. Despite the cold blustery wind, the walk through the pristine woodlands was beautiful.

Walking the “Investigator Trail”

At no time did the temperature break 25 degrees and light rain was a constant problem. All this time, a check of the weather back home showed that Perth was going through an exceptionally hot and dry spell.

Eventually, the weather system moved on and we were able to sail back to Port Lincoln, electing to anchor in front of the Port Lincoln Yacht Club. We had arrived for the weekend of the Adelaide-Port Lincoln Yacht Race. This prestigious annual event sees a fleet of over 60 boats complete the 150 nautical mile run, sailing through the night to arrive early Saturday morning. The rest of the weekend seemed to consist of celebrations, especially Sunday, with a loud party and presentation ceremony keeping us amused from our close vantage point. A number of large yachts were anchored near us and we couldn’t believe just how many people they managed to fit into an inflatable dinghy to go ashore or return to the boat.

Presentation party at the Port Lincoln Yacht Club

Watching the rain in comfort

I keep making friends

Near the end of the town jetty, a local farm and sea produce market was set up on Sunday, with stalls selling snacks and offering wine tasting etc. It drew a good crowd of visiting yachties and locals alike and we bought a pack of delicious Spencer Gulf King Prawns.

Produce Market

The weather continued its run of low temperatures and drizzle, sapping us of the energy to sail further. In the end, we opted to pull out and head home a week or so early. This meant that the boat could stay in Port Lincoln, safely stored at our new friend Richard’s place.  We will return at the end of April to head further East in search of new sailing adventures.

The trip home across the Nullabor was a mirror of the trip in, except not towing meant that we could go a lot faster. Most of the Nullabor itself was driven in rain. We only stopped at one Great Australian Bight lookout because it was so bitterly cold. We had to pack the tent away wet. All around us were rolling fields of green from all the Summer rain the area has received.

We managed the drive with two overnight stops, one at Nundroo in SA and another at a bush camp about 50kms out of Balladonia. We pulled in to Dowerin just after 4pm and immediately turned the air conditioner on, the temperature being over 30 degrees. We will have to re-acclimatise.

It is good to be home, but the next 8 weeks will go quickly and we’ll be back with Sandpiper before we know it.

30 January to 6 February – Around Port Lincoln

From Coffin Bay, we booked into the Port Lincoln Tourist Park to spend some time getting repairs done. Firstly, we needed some repairs:

• The outboard is cutting out when throttling down, resulting in a nightmare when berthing
• The bow of the boat had a hole in it where we hit the jetty when the motor stalled in Coffin Bay
• I needed repairs because the virus I contracted in Melbourne is just not getting better and the muscle spasms are making life on the boat difficult.

The motor was dropped off an outboard service centre on the way to the caravan park.

Bow damage from crashing jetty in Coffin Bay

Our new friend John Hookings organised someone to repair the hull and remove the scratches on the side. Richard Mason is a semi-retired shipwright / surf board /canoe designer and a wizard with fibreglass. Sandpiper was parked in his back yard for 5 days or so while he did the work. During this time, we hired a chalet at the PL Tourist Village, which was a good thing because it coincided with a nasty heat wave. Richard was so helpful and accommodating, letting us come and go at will and sharing his extensive knowledge of the waters around Port Lincoln.

Several trips to a local doctor and a series of blood tests confirmed the presence of some or other virus but not the suspected Ross River. This was good news, because it meant it would clear up quicker than the nasty RRV. As it was, it had been a couple of weeks of agony. The doctor prescribed codeine which did help bring things under control until a daily improvement was noted.

While we camped in the caravan park, we were really surprised to see Dennis and Maureen Hoult, a couple from Shark Bay, parked nearby. They had been over to Tamworth for the annual music festival, one of our aims (among many). They were doing a slow drive back checking out the wonderful sights of the Eyre Peninsula. Dennis is a whiting fisherman in Shark Bay and I was little amused when they went out into town for dinner at Del Giorno’s, the holder of many awards for the best Seafood Restaurant in SA. They did report that the seafood was excellent.

Port Lincoln foreshore and jetty

The rest of the time in Port Lincoln was spent resting (sleeping in my case), watching the terrible midday movies, walking and sometimes swimming down in front of the caravan park. All beaches around here have a Shark Action Plan sign, which seems to be about as useful as WA’s baiting program but a lot cheaper. We certainly got to know our way around this wonderful little city. We continue to find that people are so helpful and friendly, whether we are talking about shop assistants, caravan park workers or just people you come across around town. People are still taking the time to stop and chat.

7 February to 13 February – Sailing Port Lincoln to Tumby Bay

With repairs complete and me on the improve, we launched Sandpiper in Port Lincoln, with Richard and John Hookings helping out with storing the car and trailer and running us back to the boat etc. It was like a limo service with valet parking.

We sailed North past Port Lincoln township inside the beautiful Boston Island, dodging the numerous fish farms dotting the bay. The tuna industry now catches wild Southern Bluefin Tuna of all sizes and puts them in large circular floating compounds. These are then towed into more sheltered waters and the tuna grown out to size using locally caught sardines and fish meal pellets. The same system is used for Yellowtail Kingfish, except these are hatchery reared on land then transferred to sea cages for growth. We also saw a mussel farm and some land based abalone farms along the coast near Point Boston.

Near Point Bolingbroke, Peake Bay

We sailed North between Louth and Rabbit Islands to overnight in Peake Bay, a large deep bay about 4 nautical miles across. We had to choose a couple of spots before finding a really calm and comfortable spot, tucked in behind Point Bolingbroke. The beach was absolutely gorgeous white sand and the water clean and clear. However, we were mindful of John Hookings’ warnings of a large great white shark in this very area over the last few days.

On one occasion, a large seal (probably an Australian Fur Seal), could be seen hunting along the edge of the narrow sand strip. We were anchored right on this line so we watched as he just passed right under the bow and kept cruising. I kept thinking about the shark and hoping the seal would make it. Another time, a large pelican came and stood on the beach opposite the boat and waited for us to clean fish. We didn’t have any but I waded ashore anyway to try to get a photo alongside it. He wasn’t having any of this and waddled off down the beach. I played the “Pelican Whisperer” and held out a hand to him. That got his attention and he came back to discuss things. I felt so guilty about the deception I went and got some of my fresh squid and gave him a snack.

The Pelican Whisperer

Over the next few days, the weather turned bad, giving everything from extreme heat and fierce North-West winds to strong cool Southerlies. We spent several days criss-crossing the bay in search of calm anchorages, three times on one occasion. Near where we were anchored was an access track through private farming property and a few boats came and went to fish the area. One guy, Steve White, turned out to be the owner of the Seabreeze Hotel in Tumby Bay and we spent a great time swapping yarns about the area. He knew the owners of the property and regularly accessed it for fishing. We promised to catch up later in Tumby Bay for a drink. The next day I talked to another fisherman, this time a professional whiting fisherman, who actually turned out to be Steve’s father-in-law.  He fishes for King George Whiting by line, the netting having been stopped some years ago. It’s a small world.

Meanwhile, we managed to keep ourselves fed on seafood, with steady catches of herring and the occasional whiting. One evening, we caught four large squid so we had a couple of great meals of calamari.

After a few days of criss-crossing Peake Bay, the weather improved and we crossed the 10 nautical miles of more open ocean to Reevesby Island, the largest of the Sir Joseph Banks Group. Numerous other islands surrounded us, Winceby, Lusby, Kirkby, Dalby,  Partney etc, the “by” suffix reflecting  village names of Mathew Flinders’ native Lincolnshire. The trip over was terrific, with calm winds and glassy seas. For a long time, we had the company of two beautiful dolphins playing in our bow wave, eventually to be joined by a mother and her tiny calf. It was so small it must have been very young but managed to keep up with the rest.

Once at Reevesby Island, we entered Home Bay, locally referred to as the lagoon. It offers protection from most winds and is a broad expanse of reasonably shallow water and glorious white sand beaches. Seals patrol the weed lines and a wide variety of bird life can be seen on every sand bar or rocky outcrop. It is the sort of area that brings the dulcet tones of Sir Richard Attenborough to mind.

“The Lagoon”, Reevesby Island

From a more human perspective, a number of boats dotted the lagoon, one, a large white catamaran that we had been told was in the area for several months, and others, a series of smaller craft fishing for the day from either Port Lincoln or Tumby Bay. As the day progressed, boats came and went, some anchoring overnight. We found great entertainment in listening to the chatter of VHF radio from boats scattered all over the lower Spencers Gulf area for the various fishing reports and anchorage expectations of each craft. Over the next few days, we grew to know various craft by call sign, even if we’d never sighted them.

Home Bay, Reevesby Island

Crystal clear Moreton Bay, Reevesby Island

We went ashore to look at the ruins of the old homestead, just over the first set of dunes. Despite the heat, we put on stout long trousers and wore full booties for the walk, the island being heavily populated with black tiger snakes. We stuck carefully to the boardwalk. Eventually, we had to cross a samphire flat and it is this area that is reputed to be populated with death adders. We jointly decided that we could see the ruins perfectly well from the safety of the boardwalk and left exploring the buildings to others. The snake situation here is so bad that one boat reported over the radio that three tiger snakes were swimming at the back of the boat. Fisherman report them as being quite aggressive.

Old Reevesby homestead

Unfortunately, the weather forecast was not good, with a major rain event was coming with falls of up to 100mm predicted and some fairly strong winds. We elected to use a small window of opportunity to sail to Tumby Bay, a coastal town around 50km North of Port Lincoln and hole up there. We’d work out later how to get the car and trailer down from Lincoln. Anchorages off Tumby Bay are not very good so we entered their small marina. A call to the Shire about a berth quickly had us put on to a very helpful man from Modra Apartments who kindly let us use a berth for a few days to get sorted.

Tumby Bay jetty

We dropped in on our new friend Steve from the Seabreeze Hotel and destroyed the diet with a huge schnitzel each and a couple of beers. He also lent us a power cord for the berth and gave us a guided tour of some of the new developments in town. Tumby Bay is a lovely little town, with good amenities and facilities. Once again, everyone seems very friendly. Another night we went to the pub for happy hour and got talking to a couple alongside us. They immediately knew us as the yacht people from WA who had been anchored in Peake Bay. By chance, they own the farm that we were anchored off and are also good friends of John and Helen Hookings, our Port Lincoln friends. You can’t get away with anything down here.

Mast down in Tumby Bay

Rain and more rain

The rain event came with a vengeance and we spent a couple of days holed up inside the boat. John and Helen kindly delivered the car and trailer to us so we could pull out when the winds eased and drive back to Port Lincoln. There, we will re-launch and explore the many bays and islands to the South.

Christine’s culinary creations while at sea. She really is a wonder.

Cooking fish fillets for lunch (yes, she has knickers on)

Crumbed razor shell medallions and fried rice

Seafood and chicken paella

Spicy coated calamari, chips and Caesar salad

23-29 January – Sailing Coffin Bay

We spent 6 nights on the waters of Coffin Bay and its many inlets. In reality, the area that is really Coffin Bay is a wide bay first sighted and named by Mathew Flinders, after Sir Isaac Coffin who was so helpful to Flinders in outfitting the Investigator. The area broadly referred to as Coffin Bay is really Port Douglas, Mount Dutton Bay and Kellidie Bay.

The waters of the almost enclosed waters are brimming with sea life and rich in nutrients, hence the hugely successful oyster industry. A native Coffin Bay oyster was dredged to near extinction in the late 1800s to supply the Adelaide market but in the 1980s, the Pacific Oyster (originally from Japan) was introduced and Coffin Bay oysters soon established itself as the premier oysters amongst the restaurants of the East coast.

Unfortunately, the growing number of wild Pacific Oysters began to concern authorities, as they were seen to be taking too much nutrient, so a cull of over 200,000 was taken in 2010. Fortunately, we found a lovely area that they had missed, and delighted in the fact that the wild ones are much larger than their farmed cousins but just as tasty. We gorged ourselves on natural oysters and Oysters Kilpatrick.

Oysters and nibbles

Another wonderful discovery was the presence of huge black mussels. Again, these only seemed to be  present in one location (that we found) and were also probably the wild offspring of imported farmed mussels. We didn’t care. We had two wonderful meals of chilli mussels, accompanied by Christine’s crusty bread rolls that she somehow managed to cook at sea.

Getting stuck in to chilli mussels and home baked crusty bread.

For fish, we had access to plenty of herring and King George Whiting, as well as a really big flounder I caught. We had hoped to feed on squid, which are said to be plentiful in SA waters, but we failed to sight on inside Coffin Bay. While snorkelling, I came across a few scallops and thought we were in real luck, but in the end only managed to find four live ones. We also tried to catch some “sand crabs”, a strange looking species that is supposed to be in these waters. We failed to see any in our drop nets.

Herring, King George Whiting and flounder.

The weather was a mixed bag, we had a couple of days of very cool temperatures, and a couple of days of calm balmy days when the temperature shot up. We managed a few swims, although even the enclosed waters of Coffin Bay have a reputation when it comes to the Great Whites. Like the weather on WA’s south coast, things can change very quickly. We relied heavily on “Willyweather” from the Internet and its forecasts proved very accurate. Our last couple of nights on the water were particularly windy, with a SE screamer that must have topped 35 knots at times. On advice from a local contact, we bought a new anchor, one suited to the conditions here in SA. It is called a Marsh Anchor and we have dubbed it Rodney, because it catches and keeps us in one spot.

A feature of sailing Coffin Bay is the magnificent scenery, with wonderful views of Mount Dutton, Mena Hill and the Marble Range. The coastline itself changes from rolling pasture land, to dense mallee woodlands  and patches of spectacular sand hills. We never seemed to be far from a settlement of some sort. Besides the small township of Coffin Bay, there was the even smaller hamlet of Mount Dutton and a caravan park with associated shacks at Farm Beach, near the entrance to the ocean.

Mount Dutton Town

Peaceful Yangie Bay

The bird life of the area was all familiar, yet smaller. In Yangie Bay, we even saw black swans feeding in ocean waters, something I’ve not seen before. However, they were much smaller than the ones in the west. The pelicans too are a smaller version of ours, as are the dolphins.

We had a couple of dramas along the way. Our first was when we were sailing north in Mount Dutton Bay towing our new folding Porta-bote. Our previous Porta-bote was the 11’6” model and we thought that we would do well to sell it and buy a smaller 10’ job to facilitate storage and handling issues. What we didn’t factor into the thinking was that the smaller model wouldn’t tow as well as the old one. We were both watching the little boat gyrate in the following seas and surf down waves when we both realised at the same time that it was surfing nose down and not coming up to breathe. We both leaped at the tow line at the same time and hauled in, saving the now half drowned boat. The seas were big enough to rule out any thought of bailing out the dinghy so we carried on, the tow line shortened and holding the little bow high.

The second drama was the next morning, when we motored out of a very protected anchorage Mount Dutton Bay West to find that the wind was a lot stronger than anticipated. We motored across the bay to the lee where a couple of small boats were fishing and proceeded to set sail. We made an absolute dog’s breakfast of the whole operation and must have looked really bad in front of an audience. After several aborted attempts, we finally got sailing and reminded ourselves that one can never have too much experience.

The third and most disastrous drama occurred the morning we hauled out. The wind was up. We knew it would be because it had been all the previous afternoon and night. We didn’t know the tidal flow at the jetties would be so strong. The motor had been playing up somewhat, behaving well until it was powered down, when it often decided to cut out. As we approach the jetty area, we found three out of four jetties were taken with oyster boats, full of young bucks eager to get out and earn their quids. We chose the one vacant jetty, lined up in the 20 knot breeze and committed. Then the motor cut out. With wind and tide combined, we skated across the front of the jetties, entered the last opening, narrowly missed one oyster boat and hit the jetty bow on at a good 4 knots, taking a sizeable chunk out of Sandpiper.  The skipper of one oyster boat just looked at me and said, “Shit, you hit that pretty hard!”

The Coffin Bay launch ramp, nearly the scene of our undoing.

All the oyster boat guys were very good about the whole thing and helped us get the boat alongside an empty jetty. They headed off in their over-powered oyster boats to do their oyster thing and we prepared to bring Sandpiper on to the trailer. Even this operation needed the assistance of a local out for his morning walk because the tide and wind was more than Christine could handle on the stern end. We were both shaken and stirred.

At the Coffin Bay Yacht Club Jetty

Since we were in the area over the Australia Day weekend and the weather was good, the numbers on the water certainly increased. We proudly flew the flag on January 26th and politely waved to others as they passed by. Unfortunately, it is hard to maintain the godd old Aussie spirit when some cashed up bogan is hurtling past you in his new super cruiser that creates a wake to equal the best of tsunamis. Some even deviated course by hundreds of metres to come over to us, wave cheerfully, then look perplexed as we gave them the finger in return. It is also a worry when you ease into a lovely anchorage at 10:30 to join a couple of other boats and they greet you by toasting you with their wine and beer. A bit early for us and we are hardly wowsers.

Coffin Bay is one of the great small boat cruising locations we have visited, having all the elements; scenery, protected anchorages, plentiful seafood and great facilities. We are so glad we came. Now it is on to Port Lincoln.

Friday 17^th January

Our exit from Melbourne started with me cycling my way across to collect the car in Fitzroy then navigating my way back to the hotel. The GPS made easy work of it, although the morning traffic in Swanston St made progress very slow.  I also suffered from a worsening cold, the sore throat strengthening.

We packed the car, got the bikes stowed away and made our way to the tollway to make a rapid and easy escape from the city traffic. We had registered our car online and we got charged our 75c via a credit card as we passed under a set of cameras. Special number plate recognition software takes care of the rest.  No stopping in long queues, no searching for small change. What a cool system. I’d even sanction tolls on our freeways if it was this easy and I could be certain that all the money would go towards improving public transport but I have my doubts about that. The current government seems to have a different view of things to me when it comes to finances.

The weather had not improved, with another 40 degree day forecast, but with a late cool change expected. We had already decided to head North through Bendigo to access the Murray River, rather than the shorter drive through the Grampians. This proved to be a good choice, with the highway being closed as fires threatened the town of Halls Gap. Fires spread as we travelled. On one 20km stretch of the Calder Highway, we passed around 7 verge grassfires, rapidly taking hold in the 40km/hr winds. They were so regular,  it must have been the work of some lunatic tossing matches or the like. Police and fire trucks sped up and down the highway on both sides, trying in vain to keep up with the growing threat. Later, we heard on the news that two of the road side fires had got away and  damaged properties. We managed to avoid the other fires and made our way through Bendigo and then along the Murray, to research our later boat travels.

One of the many fires along the Calder Freeway.

The little town of Echuca, once a jewel on the river, is still a gem, the little hamlet on the river (partly restored and partly reconstructed) giving some lovely insight into life on the Murray before the coming of the trains. There was a wedding party coming off one of the many paddle steamers available for charter. The guys and gals in their finery all looked absolutely tortured in the stifling conditions, by now pushing 45 degrees. That’s one garter you wouldn’t want to catch.

Old Echuca port

We spent the night in Robinvale, still in Victoria, at a very grassy and green caravan park on the banks of the river. There were lots of holiday makers, most with sleek and powerful ski boats tied up along the banks. The long awaited cool change finally arrived late in the night.

Saturday 18^th January

I awoke to find the cold/flu thing had really taken hold, so Christine did the bulk of the driving. We crossed the river and spent around 100kms or so in New South Wales, cutting off two sides of a triangle as the Murray River curved around. We re-entered Victoria at Mildura then headed West into South Australia. The day was a long day of driving, with frequent stops and lots of exploring sections of river.

Mighty red gums along the Murray

I found myself thinking back to the Murray River summit organised by Kevin Rudd and the hoo-haa over the by-back of water rights. At the time, we heard a lot about the  Murray being the food bowl of Australia and a 10% reduction in water availablity would mean the country would starve, or some such thing.  In reality, all I could see for hundreds of kilometres was oranges and grapes, both of which are part of industries struggling to cope with over supply.  We enjoy our wine, eat lots of sultanas in our muesli and are regular buyers of orange juice but from what I could see, the health of the river comes first. In one town, we were talking to a woman at the tourist centre about boating on the river.  She did point out that at the time we planned to use the river,  there would be a lot of water released from upstream to facilitate the annual water skiing races. Go figure. We are a sports loving nation after all.

One of many river crossing ferries. This one is at Morgan

We drove on into South Australia and the left the river, headed towards Port Augusta, into country with lovely rolling hills and the spectacular Flinders ranges in the distance. We over-nighted in Peterborough, a railway town that once sported three different gauges of railway and now tries desperately hard to capitalise on it.  We set up the tent in steady rain, which thankfully eased by nightfall. We spent a fun hour with a young German couple, working over a map with us giving advice about the best way to get to Canberra. We all spent a lot of time nodding and pretending to understand what the other was saying. God knows where they are now!

Sunday 19^th January

We (well me actually) awoke in the middle of the night to batten down the hatches in the midst of an increasing wind. By morning, it was gale force, and my flu had taken a hold to the point where I didn’t care about anything. I looked on the iPhone and found that Peterborough had a MacDonalds so we packed up quickly and hit the road for a McCafe breakfast. This is a VERY rare thing for us, both being quite happy to never sight another set of Golden Arches again. But then, when there is a need….. Unfortunately, in my flu induced stupor, I failed to notice that the Peterborough McCafe was actually in Cambridgeshire, UK. Our Peterborough couldn’t even raise a roadhouse brekky, a problem that was repeated in the next three towns all the way to Port Augusta. I’ve never been so happy to chow down into a coffee and McWrap.

The drive down through the Flinders Ranges to Port Augusta was spectacular. I was so sick that I even let Christine drive and she was so scared she drove very sedately so we were both able to enjoy it.

The remaining trip back down the Eyre Peninsula to Coffin Bay was routine, with a lunchtime stop at Cowell for fish and chips and a dozen oysters to keep in reserve for another day. It is going to be hard to leave the ready access to cheap top quality oysters.

Cowell. We think they have the best oysters.

We pulled into the caravan park at Coffin Bay to find the boat all safe and sound and began the work of transferring our lives from “back of car” to “on the yacht”.

Saturday 11 January – Friday 17 January

We arrived safe and sound in Melbourne and managed to find a parking spot fairly close to our hotel. Although the hotel has parking, our Land Cruiser is too high for it so we had to unpack the car before taking it to Fitzroy to park it for the week. With the Victoria Markets just nearby, parking was at a premium and we struggled for a while before paying $5.50 an hour for street parking in Victoria Street. We unloaded our bicycles, set them up and put them into the hotel’s secure storage area.

By the time we had unpacked, Azba had arrived from her place in Richmond and we all set off in the car to her friend Simon’s place in Fitzroy with Azba perched on a crate behind the cargo grill because we have removed our rear seats. Simon had bagged us a free parking spot on the street, across the road from the Lord Newry Pub, so with the car all locked up, we headed across the road and settled in to sample a few jugs and an assortment of finger foods. The area has ambiance plus and sitting at a window watching all the strange people passing by was great entertainment. By the time we had consumed enough calories, we decided to walk the 3.5km back to the hotel in Carlton, Azba parting ways with us along the way to head back to Richmond. It is a fun way of seeing Melbourne and we never seem to tire of walking here, there is always so much to see of interest.

Sporting Events

ODI Australia vs England

We came to Melbourne for sports. The One Day International on Sunday night between England and Australia was a rather lack-lustre affair, with Australia winning with ease. England seemed to totally lack interest in the whole thing. However, anything at the MCG is an exciting event. At the 38,000, the crowd was not great by Melbourne standards but still enough to create atmosphere. It was advertised as a dress-up day and the array of costumes worn was wonderful. Between overs, the cameras roaming the crowd would highlight groups in costume and show them on the big screen, promoting plenty of dancing and frivolity. Interestingly, we saw none of the drunkenness that so mars some WACA matches. Our seats were excellent, facilities unbelievably good and movement in and out of the ground went without a hitch. We’ll be back for some footy later in the year.

Centre Court Rod Laver – Hewitt vs Seppi

We bought a 3 Day Ground Pass to the Australian Open, giving us access to all courts except for Rod Laver Arena and HiSense Arena on any of three days. We went to the opening day and settled ourselves in to Show Court 3, finding a well shaded spot. Fortunately, we managed to catch the Mathew Ebden match, which he won in 5 sets, but provided some wonderful tennis. By Tuesday, the 40 degree plus heat wave that had caused so much distress in WA and SA had caught up with us and Melbourne was gearing up for three days of heat into the forties.

On the Tuesday, to provide some escape from the heat, we bought a ticket into Rod Laver Arena and watched a couple of Aussies in action. It seems amazing that with the temperature at 41 degrees, they still played with the roof open. Not only were the players cooking, a lot of the crowd (many sitting in very expensive seats) was equally hot. We had cheap seats right up the back and totally enjoyed the shade.

Over the course of the week, we got to see:

• Hantuchova(Slovak) d Watson(GBR)
• Ebden (Aus) d Mahut (Fra)
• Nishikori (Jap) d Matosevic (Aus)
• Federer (Swiss) d Duckworth (Aus)
• Seppi (Italy) d Hewitt (Aus)

Technology is certainly changing tennis. At one point, I found that I had been watching the big screen for three points instead of the actual play. After each point, the eyes have to flit from the electronic scoreboard, the service speed readout and the iPhone to see if any messages have come in. During the Leyton Hewitt match, during one particularly boring period (and there are usually quite a few), I was reading my email and looked up to find that 5 others around me were doing the same thing. It was almost like being on a commuter train.

The intrepid cyclists outside the tennis

The “Fanatics” are an annual feature at the Australian Open. A dedicated group of young guys make sure they follow all the Aussies around and put on a real show, with lots of clever calls and chants. During set breaks, they organise wonderful beach ball games and lead the crowd in renditions of Ozzie songs. Not content with ordinary Mexican waves, they orchestrate the “slow wave” and the “quick wave” clever variations on the old theme. These guys are seriously good value. It sure beats the cow bells at the Hopman Cup.

Cycling in Melbourne

We have our little folding bikes with us. We bought these on a whim at the Dowerin Field Days some years ago and they have spent most of their life under wraps in the shed. They fit in the back of the car easily enough so we thought we’d try them out. What a success! Melbourne is so bike friendly, with excellent cycle ways everywhere and preference given to them over cars in the CBD. The only real issue is the trams but it didn’t take us long to come to grips with the rules regarding interaction with trams and alighting passengers. Basically, when a tram stops for passengers, we stop behind it and wait. Once mobile, we are free to pass the tram.

Christine catches up after missing the lights in Swanston St

It is a real hoot sharing the cycle ways with so many skateboarders. Skateboarding is a serious form of transport here and it is so funny to be cycling sedately along enjoying the view and be passed by a tall skinny guy with dreadlocks who appears to be just standing upright doing 30km/hr. The ride to Melbourne Park in the morning for the tennis is a real breeze, it being downhill along Swanston St to Flinders St Station then past Federation square and along the Yarra banks to Rod Laver Arena. We hardly have to pedal. The return journey needs a bit more effort but our little bikes are very well geared and it is not much of a strain to climb the long steady hill.

On Wednesday, we had a break from tennis and cycled over to Fitzroy to check on the car and to remove the fruit we had remembered before it turned into wine in the 40 degree heat. We did well on the way over, finding good cycle ways and enjoying the fun of passing all the jammed up traffic on Brunswick Road. We took a different route on the return and found that cycling on a road with no cycle lanes (Lygon St) is no fun at all. Despite the extreme heat, we had to spend a few minutes sheltering in the car to avoid a short sharp thunderstorm. Crazy Melbourne weather!

We are certainly sold on bikes in Melbourne. In future, if we fly over, we’ll hire a bike for the stay.

Out and About

We really haven’t ventured out much, mainly due to the terrible heat and our level of exhaustion each day on our return from the tennis. On our rest day, we did catch the No 16 tram from right outside the hotel, through the CBD and on to Acland St in St Kilda, where we wandered for a while and window shopped, before stopping for a jug of beer and a feed of fish and chips in a local pub. St Kilda was quiet by any standards, the heat keeping people inside, although there were a lot of bather clad people got off the tram near the beach areas. By the time we got back to the hotel, we were done again and had to spend more time in front of the air con watching tennis. We spent another lovely evening in Richmond with Azba at a local Turkish restaurant. We had a wonderful array of exotic finger foods and dips with lashings of Lebanese beer.

The famous Luna Park in St Kilda

We also explored the CBD a little more and found lots of previously hidden arcades and shopping precincts underneath office blocks. Everywhere we went, the city was alive and being used, even on weekends and into the night. The central city is an integral part of many people’s lives, a stark contrast to Perth where the CBD seems to have become the province of a few and somewhere that many people seldom visit. Melbourne is such fun.

Not all trams are this old

8 -10 January

We drove from Port Lincoln to Geelong, via Adelaide. Even though we didn’t have the yacht on the back, we still travelled quite sedately, although the thrill of doing 110 was quite a novelty for us. The roads in SA are wonderful, so much so that I’m starting to wonder if Colin Barnett’s paranoid ramblings about being treated like the Cinderella state don’t have a ring of truth. SA seems to be getting a much bigger slice of the road funding, despite having 800,000 fewer people. We travelled on a wide network of roads, not just the main route, and found that cambered corners, regular overtaking lanes and neat orderly P stops every 10km. When towing the boat in WA, I am constantly scanning the road shoulders and hoping like hell I don’t have to pull off to deal with a flat tyre. Most of our shoulders are steep, narrow and erosion affected. By contrast, those in SA are like an extension of the highway, and most roads have a generous bitumen shoulder anyway, making a passing road train far less of a threat. We need to get our priorities right. But then, we will have Elizabeth Quay. Well, that’s enough of the political rant….
Oops! Back with more political stuff. As soon as we crossed the SA/Vic border, things changed for the worse. If someone is taking our share of the road funding it sure ain’t the Vics. The Princes Highway went from a beautifully smooth blacktop with passing lanes to a lumpy, cracked, narrow piece of rubbish road with only one passing lane in 100kms. It is a disgrace! In fact, we found this to be the rule rather than the exception in Victoria. The Great Ocean Road is billed as one of the great drives in Australia. The scenery is certainly wonderful but the road is so bad all the passengers are too scared of dying to take in the sights. In one stretch, marked as a 33km winding road, the speed limit was set at 100km/hr. I used all my skills (such as they are) to maintain a steady 70km/hr through the bends. The fact that a 12 tonne tour bus was only a couple of metres behind me for much of the way did not add to the enjoyment of the drive.
As we travelled, we assessed places in terms of sailing with Sandpiper later in the trip. Tumby Bay had some possibilities as an access to the Sir Joseph Banks Island Group but Port Lincoln looked better. As always, Port Augusta looked like sailing heaven, despite there being a 25-30 knot wind howling. We found a great launching ramp and adjacent caravan park at Murray Bridge to explore the lower sections of the Murray River down to Lake Alexandrina and Goolwa.

The Murray River at Murray Bridge, SA

We over-nighted in caravan parks using our little tent and the cooking facilities in the back of the car. Night 1 was spent at Port Wakefield, 100km North of Adelaide. Night 2 was in Mount Gambier and Night 3 A miniscule unsigned Caravan park in Winchelsea (100km from Melbourne). We had intended staying somewhere in one of the many beach side spots between Warrnambool and Angelsea but when we found the going rate was $53 a night for a tent site with no power we spat the dummy and headed North back to Princes Highway. For that sort of money I want at least an ensuite and preferably my own beer fridge.

Living small with tent and the car, Port Wakefield, SA

Highlights along the way:

• Completing a short historical walk around Port Wakefield.
• Consuming a couple of $5 pints at a 130 year old pub in Port Wakefield. (They even had $12 meals complete with soup and salad bar). The experience was enhanced by the bloke that latched on to us and described his trucking experiences in the Pilbara, making it clear that he was responsible for much of the growth up there.
•  Eating a dozen oysters bought in Cowell on the way up the Eyre Peninsula (different to those in Coffin Bay and easier to shuck).
• Using a road side toilet at a tiny town called Willalooka and having piped classical music and handcrafted pot-pouri sachets on the toilet roll holders (they were named Lynne’s toilets but we don’t know whether Lynne built them, ran them or died in them).

• The coastal scenery along the Great Ocean Road. The downside was that the crowds were horrendous at each town along the drive and the behaviour of drivers meant that we were lucky to complete the drive in one piece. I can’t believe how many people seem to think that cycling along mountain roads with no road shoulder, sheer drop aways and lots of mad drivers could possibly be fun.

Bay of Islands

London Bridge (the first span collapsed in 1990)

Loch Ard Gorge

• The splendour of the Mountain Ash forests and Fern Tree groves in the Otway Ranges. Again, some of the scenery was lost to us as our eyes remained fixed on the narrow winding switchback road from Lorne through to Winchelsea.

• A morning spent on the waterfront in Geelong. Geelong is a surprisingly nice place, unexpected because so many Melbournians rubbish it so. The City is neat, functional and the setting on Corio Bay is rather pretty. The proximity of the waterfront to the city proper is a big attraction and the recent developments have been suggested a model for Perth with the Elizabeth Quay project. We could do a lot worse. We bought a wonderful feed of calamari and chips from a boat selling mussels, paella and squid for $10. Best calamari I’ve had (and I’ve had a lot).

The Geelong Beachfront

The swimming area – Geelong

The “Mussel Boat”, Fisherman’s Pier, Geelong

Christine and the iPhone successfully navigated us along the M1 freeway, across the spectacular West Gate Bridge and up into Carlton to our hotel to commence the Melbourne part of our trip. For the next week, the car will be bedded down in neighbouring Fitzroy while we walk, cycle and tram it around this wonderful city.