Shallow aquamarine waters stretch out before us with patches of sea grass changing the hue. Welcome Swallows swoop around our doorway, the odd one even flits in and out. We collected a special permit (free) from the Shire enabling us to spend one night here. We left Denham early Saturday morning so that we could make the most of this little haven. Taking refuge from the wind this Sunday morning we review the past week…
So hard parting from family! Wondering when we will next see them is the story of our life. While Saxon & Paul returned South we took the road North through the Kalbarri National Park. We spent the day stopping at the scenic spots overlooking the gorges of the Murchison River. Spectacular views of the river meanders, the haunting call of a butcherbird drifting up from the valley below and evidence of the floods that had scoured the system in March this year each added to the experience in different ways.
Looking up Murchison river from Nature's Window
We noticed a 10 million year old ripple mark in the sandstone at our feet matched an identical set, 60m below, being formed by the same river in deposits of fresh sand. A humbling thought that provided testimony to the park’s fascinating geological history, the antiquity of the landscape around us and the timeless, inexorable process of erosion. We’d had plenty of walking and beauty to distract us from the sadness of the day. As evening began closing in we left the Park and drove until we reached the old bridge crossing the Murchison inland, just off the new Highway. There, found ourselves a pretty spot in an old road construction camp with an amazingly smart toilet plus fancy ramp! The last of the sunset cast a peaceful light upon our river frontage and we felt content in our 24 hour parking site. Too good to move on, and we stayed far longer…
Sunday beside the Murchison River -
“Where is that helicopter?” Our peace is actually broken by a quad chugging past our caravan with two hefty folk aboard. This 24hr parking site is a particularly fine place for observing the passing population “rolling in” and “pulling out” as we supposedly relax, reading our books.
We discover that the old fellow heavily clothed up for protection against the fierce elements is now the legal caretaker of the fancy toilet block for Main Roads. His old caravan and scattered goods may be parked in a noisy spot below the North West Coastal Highway with road trains steadily plying up and down, but he knows that it is the coolest spot. He even keeps abreast of temperatures in Perth! Told George all about the cyclone generated flood that swept through the site earlier this year. It took the river level over a month to subside.
“Slopes” and “sliders”, the tourist hire vehicles drift in, either to take a peep, stretch legs or enjoy a bite to eat at facilities provided by Main Roads Dept.
A huge rig – slick designer model with shiny silver wrapping protecting the roof rack, drives round checking out the status of possible sites while the wife follows behind in a black Mirage with gleaming mag. wheels.
Hats off to the old fella in his wheelchair – his Mercedes transit van draws up and out pops the electrical ramp and disgorges said wheelchair. His cheerful voice chattering to the dog beside the neighbouring bus, wafts out across the extensive site as he makes his way steadily over to the 3 toilet block, its ramp safely taking him up to the handicapped one. Wonderful to see this expense being put to good use and widening the bush experience for him.
A fifth wheel with a free standing satellite dish; The yacht trailing behind a Land Cruiser being used as a home - underpants and towel drying on the guard rail.
Two ozzie muckers (as JG would say), squashies on their heads discussing whether it was Burl Ives playing on the radio! They catch the last of the evening’s sun on their moon-like bellies alongside their ancient camping bus and a crackling fire in front of them.
The two aussie muckers chewing the fat
Later, George had the opportunity to chat to one of the old Aussie drifters, a former cook on a sheep station and scrutinize his remarkable hat up close! He had stuck a horn, of the last sheep he had slaughtered, onto his hatband (using silicon), and had adorned the brim with wool and some hand-woven “dreadlocks” designed to keep flies away from his face. He mentioned he’d been forced to remove those hanging directly in front of his face because they tended to catch fire whenever he lit a fag!
No wonder our old camp attendant says he’d be lonely in a town. This spot has had comings and goings all day long without being intrusive and although it is half the numbers he’d normally see due to the severe impact the price of fuel has had on travellers – we’d have never guessed it.
Map of Shark Bay Marine Park
Monday, we moved on, upwards to Shark Bay – reputedly one of the most outstanding World Heritage Sites there is to see; important primarily because its high salinity (much of the bay 1.5 - 2 times higher than normal seawater); the resultant salt-adapted marine life and the vast expanse (400 000ha) of sea-grasses – the largest banks in the world. We stopped in on Shell Beach at the bottom of the L’Haridon Bight – this must be the ultimate of shell beaches! Literally billions of tiny white cockle shells up to 5m deep and extending for 120km along the shore lie in a succession of ridges created by storms. They not only form the basis of the shell grit industry but also, once naturally cemented together over time, are quarried and the resultant shell blocks used for construction.
We based up for the week in Denham Caravan Park, overlooking the Denham Sound, a picturesque little seaside town we walked the length of on Tuesday, feeling distanced by our Kiki Stella’s first birthday in the UK.
Monkey Mia, with its famed wild dolphins, is located on the opposite side of the Peron Peninsula. As the dolphins arrive any time between 8.00am and midday we got up far earlier than normal to drive across to the Monkey Mia Nature Reserve to witness the interactions of these marine mammals with people. On arrival, we found a large crowd already assembled on the shore watching a couple of dolphins in the shallows but the numbers of dolphins soon increased to eight, representing three generations of the same family. They have been attracting tourists to Monkey Mia for the past 35 years, imagine the field day a resource economist would have establishing the dollar value of the dolphins. The mind boggles at the amount of money they must have attracted? The feeding and care of the dolphins, carefully managed in an orderly way by CALM Park authorities. The dolphins returned periodically throughout the morning providing the opportunity for latecomers to see them.
Dolphins at Monkey Mia
Long after the crowd had dispersed they still came into the shallows. A group of 5 pelicans on the beach were equally entertaining. Preening, clattering their bills, yawning, tugging at sea grass washed up on the shore, uttering guttural roars and resting with their heads facing backwards on twisted necks all contributed to a favourable impression of our day in Monkey Mia.
While the caravan park took care of “Getaway” for $3 we went “bush” in “Skiv” to explore the 52 000 ha of arid scrub-lands and coastal scenery that make up the Francois Peron National Park.
The scrublands of the Francois Peron National Park
Having once been a sheep station it was interesting to learn that because of the thick scrub sheep could not be mustered in the conventional way. Instead, they were trapped at watering sites and herded along 30-40m wide laneways which led towards the Peron station. One laneway from Monkey Mia ran for 40km. Why anyone ever thought that the terrain and vegetation was suited to sheep farming is beyond belief.
The road (45km) was covered in deep sand in many places, sufficient to make Lea feel quite nervous as “Skiv” roared her way through the drifts in 4WD, bucking like a bronco and swaying from side to side. Cape Peron lay at the far end of the track and proved to be a perfect spot to spend the day fishing and walking. All too special to leave before nightfall to take up our place in an authorised camping spot! Sleeping in “Skiv” was hardly likely to impact unduly. We walked a good part of The Wanamalu (pied cormorant) trail along the crest of the red dunes, with lovely views of the Marine Park. With an estimated 10,000 dugongs living in Shark Bay our primary objective was to find some. Our search of the clear, calm shallows was in vain. Perfect weather lulled us into choosing to do the whole trail to Skipjack Point next day – Sadly, we didn’t ‘seize the day’!
Our walk to Skipjack Point was ruined by the strong wind that arose during the night. We drove there instead and took the boardwalk out to the viewing platforms where the “big five” (turtles, dugongs, dolphin, sharks and manta-rays) are a major draw card. Being totally exposed to the wind it was impossible to stay for long and we peered downwards into water so rough it made for poor visibility. While bumping our way back down the sandy tracks and skirting the edge of the birridas (ancient clay pans) to Denham, we met a Park vehicle busy flattening out a section of road by dragging huge grader tyres behind it. We exchanged pleasantries and learnt the dugongs have moved further a field into warmer waters. Perhaps we’ll catch sight of them further up the coast?
The wind has now dropped and we are off to walk the limestone bluffs before pulling out of Whalebone Bay late this afternoon for Nanga Bay. Hopefully we’ll find an internet connection there.
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