Week 43 (15th - 21st January)

After temperatures soared on Sunday afternoon a cold front came through that night and we awoke to a wet, windy day. When we read Busselton being described as the “State’s premier seaside resort town” because it is sheltered from most prevailing winds and has 30km of white sandy beaches providing an aquatic playground in the tranquil waters of Geographe Bay, we smiled as we thought is was all hype. However, having been enamoured by Dunsborough over the week-end Lea persuaded George to go into the town and see for ourselves rather than by-pass it. The Busselton Jetty, a Western Australian land mark was another good reason to go there. Supposedly the longest wooden piled jetty in the southern hemisphere… What is it with this need to lay claim to being biggest, longest or tallest to capture attention? We immediately thought of the other boasts we’d seen on our travels. We checked back on our records:


Port Germein, South Australia – the longest wooden jetty in Australia! 1532m.

Carnarvon, Western Australia - the famous 100 year old “Mile Long” timber Jetty. 1760m.

Busselton, Western Australia – timber jetty. 1841m.

Off we went. Busselton Jetty is a wonderful asset with a history that reads well. Built 141 years ago for the export of timber, through the ages of sail, steam and diesel thousands of ships from all over the world called in at this jetty before it closed in 1974. It was saved from being demolished by the local community who wouldn’t let their much loved landmark just disappear. A large section was destroyed by Cyclone Alby in 1978. A fire thought to have been started by a cigarette butt in 1998 could easily have consumed the entire structure had chain saws not been used to isolate it. Described as Australia’s “greatest artificial reef” under the jetty’s 12m wide seaward end an underwater observatory was completed in 2003. On reaching the boat shed style Interpretative Centre we sadly decided the dull weather, choppy water and cost wouldn’t do justice to descending 8 metres below the water to view the marine life attached to the pylons. We were impressed to see two big groups of hardy beginners having their swimming lesson in the surf in the protection of the jetty. This “premier seaside resort town” reminded us of English seaside resorts with amusement parks and fun-fares, only more spacious.

There was no point hanging around on a wet day and we moved inland to Nannup in the catchment of the mighty Blackwood River, the longest in the South West and the same river we’d camped along near Augusta. We followed the river valley up through picturesque farmland and timber plantations as far as Powlalup National Park and camped in the jarrah forests at Wright’s Bridge. We shared the place with no-one except the birds - large flocks of black cockatoos circling overhead emitting their weird squealing cries; ring-necked parrots; magpies and resident kookaburras – altogether another peaceful and perfect site to “chill out” in.

Continuing on next day we were eager to explore Bridgetown. In 1999 job desperation drove us through Bridgetown with Lea’s parents in tow to look at a backpacker’s lodge that was for sale near Manjimup. Having left Perth at an early hour we stopped in Bridgetown for breakfast overlooking the Blackwood River (yes, again!) and had been so taken by this attractive little town we wished to return one day. Another reason was to find a kangaroo sanctuary that we had chanced to see on TV earlier this year and heard was in the Bridgetown area. We were back. During our explorations we discovered the Brierley Jigsaw Gallery. Time flew in our fascination of finding puzzles from the world’s smallest wooden jigsaw, the size of a postage stamp with 99 pieces, to a gigantic 9000 piece ancient map of the world. Three dimensional and “double sided quarter turned” puzzles had us mind boggled with their complexities. We gained an insight into the history of jigsaws and the values ascribed to subject matter and condition. At all costs look after the box and don’t lose any pieces!

Brierley Jigsaw Puzzle Gallery, Bridgetown

The information Centre told us Roo Gully was actually in Boyup Brook (30kms away) and in giving us directions told us not to by pass The Cidery. As lovers of Pink Lady apples we only too happy to oblige and had no sooner walked through the door than a very welcoming girl talked us through a tasting session of their various wares - Scrumpy to Spider Cider and preservative free apple juice. The factory was more like a restaurant overlooking a beautiful garden and often used for special functions and a music venue.
Travelling through timber plantations to Boyup Brook colourfully painted wooden toadstools suddenly appeared at a road junction. Curiosity got the better of us and we walked back to investigate and there, lo and behold, was Frog Fantasy land! Sitting amongst the toadstools were a wonderful collection of ornamental frogs of all shapes, sizes, colours and materials. A bench had been provided and a message invited people to increase the population of frogs. How easily these little peculiarities add fun to the journey.

Frog Fantasy land

Funny how one thing can lead to another, setting in motion events that leave a lasting value within oneself. We’d never heard of Boyup Brook yet our first impressions as we entered were immediately favourable. Wide quiet streets, caringly landscaped surrounds and a hidden charm we couldn’t quite determine. Despite being well into the lunch hour we called in at the Visitors Centre where a most helpful volunteer gave us directions to Roo Gully, established feeding time was at 2.00pm and having observed our caravan advised us against taking it. She suggested we park it in the Shire’s Flax Mill Caravan Park situated on the banks of the Blackwood River (yet again), where we could make ourselves at home and the caretaker would find us later.
As we came to leave the Visitors Centre George realised that Keith Carnaby’s insect collection of butterflies and Jewel beetles was housed there. Outside that of the British Museum of Natural History it is one of the most important collections in the world. It is an impressive display of a life time fascination with Jewel beetles. When next we looked at the clock we were horrified at the time, dashed off to the caravan park and while George un-hitched Lea grabbed a bite for us before making for Roo Gully. Little did we realise in our haste to get going that we were bound on an extra ordinary Boyup Brook experience. Afterwards we decided it warranted a special edition and have added it at the end of this week’s blog.

Before pulling out of Boyup Brook on Thursday we stopped alongside Sandakan Park to see the War Memorial as we couldn’t place the name Sandakan in any context. We were staggered to find this special memorial stood for 2 500 British and Australian soldiers, held by the Japanese as prisoners of war, who died at Sandakan Camp and on the death march to Ranau in North Borneo. Only six were to survive.

On this haunting note we moved on to Collie, a far bigger town than we expected. Our intention was to camp in the nearby Wellington National Park. On arrival at Potter’s Gorge campground we found the best sites had all been taken by large groups and what remained were not suitably level for Getaway. We moved on to try the camp at Honeymoon Pool only to be stumped by the NO CARAVANS sign. We returned to the highway and with tummies grumbling by now, stopped for lunch at this junction. Searching our “bible” for the next alternative we ended up spending the night in the Coalfields Road rest area, a short distance further down the road.

George’s natural reluctance to get snarled up in the traffic of Bunbury, regional capital and the gateway to the South West, had him persuading Lea to camp in Australind on the eastern shore of the Leschenault Inlet. Perfect weather forecast for the week-end further agitated us to get into a place early before the city folk poured onto the coast. A lot of development seems to have occurred at Australind since we were last there (1999) and Lea felt sure George was recollecting the bad times he, in particular, had with flies in the area … so we kept moving ever northwards calling in at various places like Biningup and Myalup. Their caravan parks were chockers!

On reaching Yalgorup National Park we were delighted to find a sublime spot on edge of Martins Tank Lake – one of a chain of 10 coastal lakes that lie in the dune fields of the Swan coastal Plain south of Mandurah. All far more saline than seawater the Yalgorup Lake System is a Ramsar site significant for its waterfowl and thrombolites. Remember the famous stromatolites of Hamelin Pool up at Shark Bay? Well, here the same microbial mounds are called thrombolites because of their different external clot –like appearance.
An empty campground dominated by shady peppermint trees that also create a barrier with paper-barks that fringe the lake, screening off views of the water. The remnants of huge tuart trees add natural sculptures to the scene and outside our door we’ve had little Scarlet Robins and Sittellas (often known as tree-runners or bark peckers) to amuse us and during lunch on the Saturday a strident territorial dispute broke out amongst the kookaburra clans. Our hearts sank on our first evening when three cars roared up beside us with testosterone loaded youths on board. One had just damaged his car after hitting a kangaroo and phoned home to report the incident while the others set up tent, opened cans of beer, turned up the volume of a car radio and in their exuberance raised the level of their voices. George’s eyes rolled and began to glitter and all we could hope was that the ranger would arrive and restore a fair degree of noise. No ranger came, another mate arrived to join the throng and a game of backyard cricket ensued until dark. Happily for us, from then on a state of relative peace descended and they all moved on the next morning.
After breakfast Saturday we took the 8km walking trail to Lake Pollard where Black Swans are a feature of the lake from October and March. Although renowned for its high numbers of Black Swans we could only spot a few through binoculars. As we reached the hide a cloud of Shelduck, by far the dominant species, took off and landed on the opposite shore. On our way back we came upon a stubby, slow moving Bobtail (or Shingleback) sunning itself on the road. George crouched down to photograph it when the camera strap accidentally swung towards it and in defence it hissed with mouth agape and stuck out its blue tongue. That its scary tactic! After many attempts to capture the action we could hear a car coming and chivvied it off to safety.

Bobtail or Shingleback

In the quiet of dusk Saturday night another group of P-plated youths arrived in two cars and yet again our heart sank. The first thing one did was reverse into a tree, or so we thought. All tumbled out of the cars, black Labrador included, and to our confusion began laughing and grabbing beers. It turned out they were deliberately knocking a barrier post to loosen, before removing by hand, just so they could park a metre or two inside which totally flummoxed us. Despite another rough beginning to the night they eventually calmed down. As for the dog, it had run of the park regardless of all National Parks having a ban on dogs and cats and they all escaped paying fees as the ranger never arrived!

Back to ourselves on Sunday we spent a relaxed day. Later, walking along a firebreak we were startled by an emu jumping the fence ahead of us and we found the kangaroo that was probably hit on Friday evening by the young chap. As it was a female George checked the pouch – empty, but at least we’ve learnt what to do.