Tramping tales for July 2014

We obviously had not had enough of corrugated red dirt roads as the start of July had SKV pulling Getaway up the Dampier Peninsula, a 220 km stretch of land north of Broome. Principally Aboriginal land known as Ardi (in language that means North East) it forms a small section of the Kimberley coastline. So much of the immense Kimberley coastline is inaccessible and enigmatic; a very broken shoreline full of beautiful bays, inlets, sandy beaches and rocky masses that create steep cliffs and headlands with hidden waterfalls; along with extensive mudflats and mangrove estuaries... Off shore, a myriad of rocky islands and hidden reefs change in size or come to light depending on the almost unbelievable tidal ranges of the region. These massive variations result in dramatic changes in coastal relief as we discovered in 2006 when our seaplane flew over the Buccaneer Archipelago to land in Talbot Bay – home of the only waterfalls that run horizontally. We were lucky enough not only to experience the awesome power of the Horizontal Falls on an extreme tide; we were able to take a free second ride the following morning while waiting for the seaplane to collect us. Unforgettable rides in a locale that left us with a lasting impression and a deep desire to see more of the Kimberley coast. When Alison and Amanda flew over Mitchell Falls last month, they too were given a taste of the Kimberley coastline even further north than us and we made a pact to buy a lotto ticket in the hopes that ‘one day’ together, we will cruise the wild waters of the Kimberley coast from Broome to Wyndham on one of many charter boats springing up for those interested in exploring the coastline.  In the meantime, we do the best we can to reach the more accessible places and the Dampier Peninsula is considered one gateway to this convoluted Kimberley Coast.

     

The Cape Leveque road ran up the centre of the Dampier Peninsula through fairly flat and heavily wooded country, nothing to rave about; the first fifteen kms were tarred before we hit the dirt, locked the hubs and subjected ourselves to a slow, noisy bump and rattle to the north. 

100 kms of thick pindan sands and corrugations, widening in parts or narrowing within the confines of steeply shaped sandy slopes produced road conditions that ranged from not too bad thanks to recent grading to appalling...   

Sight of a beautiful macadamised road heavily stained red on the left hand side as vehicles came out of the pindan sands brought merciful relief and as it continued into the old Beagle Bay Mission – we happily to turned off the main road to go and see Sacred Heart Church we have seen on many TV travel programs.

Built in 1918 by German Pallotine monks and local Aboriginals the startling white building against cobalt blue skies is renowned for its decorative mother-of-pearl details inside; in particular the altar.

This early mission settlement was established in 1890 by French Trappists before being handed to the Pallotine monks. In 1972, the mission lease was transferred to the Aboriginal inhabitants. Once again we were impressed by the well kept surrounds and sense of well being. We’d parked our rig outside the school and the sounds of activity we could hear indicated a well attended educational system.

Another 21kms along the main road we found the turn off to Middle Lagoon where George had booked three nights through the Broome Visitor Information Centre. Heading out on the Dampier Peninsular with no bush camps along the road, travellers are advised to book ahead to ensure Aboriginal outstation campgrounds expect you. Since communications are time consuming and very difficult to non-existent the Broome VIC undertakes bookings and payment in the designated campsites- Kooljaman and Middle Lagoon. (Strictly no caravans permitted at Kooljaman)  Our hearts dropped as we slowly covered the 33kms of rough corrugation, swayed through thick sand, bounced over series of switchbacks (Lea inwardly cringed wondering what was happening within Getaway) or picked a way through rocky passage before Middle Lagoon opened up to us. Although we were given a site on the unpowered ocean frontage the lie of the land precluded us from seeing the water.  Instead, rough grass outside Getaway gently rose to meet the sky. Sites on the crest provided views in the full face of the setting sun with caravan’s camped head to toe along the length had no appeal to us. We were happy with our open site well away from anyone and tucked up against a clump of pandanus. Middle Lagoon also seemed to go by the name of Natures Hideaway. We saw no lagoons just the lovely large, wide campground and cabins behind a low bluff giving 26 hectares of prime beachfront. To the north we came across well protected Monsoon Vine thickets – apparently the only patch of vine thicket on the Dampier Peninsula in a reasonably pristine state. Interesting to walk through with information about trees and their Aboriginal uses while giving long views up and down the coast.

Middle Lagoon

We spent 6 nights at Middle Lagoon Campground contentedly walking the beaches and coves or pottering around on large rocky platforms at low tide.

We thought to spend the first day or two recovering from the road in but curiosity got the better of us. Not knowing enough about other campgrounds and having conjured up certain expectations of the Dampier Peninsula as a result of word of mouth and photographs – which were yet to materialise... We decided we’d be better informed if we went on a recce and set off the following day in SKV. The discomforting Middle Lagoon road was a little easier without the caravan but once on the macadamised road we really couldn’t understand why caravans were not encouraged to go further north. Kooljaman Resort at Cape Leveque had a relatively easy 5km entry off the main road with lovely shady sites and views for camper trailers and tents only; amongst many other types of accommodation. Kooljaman is a multi award winning destination owned by the local Aboriginal people; set on the Cape with wide vision across the Indian Ocean.  While George went into reception to pay the day visitor permit ($5 pp) Lea went to look down onto the beach and was somewhat startled to see what looked like building rubble or a rock quarry stretching out below this good looking resort!

On closer inspection, this natural and unruly rock formation was a disappointing introduction to Western Beach

In hindsight, a perfect foil...

Once on the beach, towering red cliffs beautifully sculpted by the sea impacted upon us. Shapes and rich colours put us in mind of an ancient walled city in magnificent decline. The red contrasted against the white beach and azure sea washing up...  

Once again we were impressed to see Aboriginals gainfully employed. Particularly taken by three Bawdi Jawi Rangers we met down at Eastern Beach. Having returned to the truck after a picnic lunch in the beach shelter Lea was surprised when a Ranger asked if she owned a cockatoo under the vehicle! Her unclear expression had him point out a very shabby looking Corella below the engine. White feathers seemed to indicate a recent dust bath and, it not only looked very dirty it looked very poorly. George came to inspect and he also thought it looked pitiful and hot. The Rangers had tried capturing it from its awkward position under the car and failed. Lea suggested we try again using her towel. However, just as George prepared to reverse out with Rangers and Lea at the ready – it waddled to the back of the truck and we were fearful George would run over it. The noise of the engine was enough for the bird to exit into the car park.  Thankfully, as the Ranger tried to capture it with towel – it flew off proving it wasn’t sick. Perhaps, it was just seeking shade - although it must be used to far hotter summer conditions. Lea commented that she was glad not to leave worrying about the Corella and the Ranger she had been speaking to, agreed most wholeheartedly. Lovely, their attitude spoke volumes! Well spoken, smartly attired in uniforms these Bardi Jawi Rangers belong to a team of local indigenous people actively involved in land and sea conservation and management of their land. They present educational talks at schools and tourism businesses. Collect data on marine turtles and dugong populations; see to the dreaded invasive weed management that Ranger John Hayward had spoken about up at Mitchell Plateau. They also patrol their country for evidence of illegal foreign fishing vessel debris and aid the Australia Quarantine Inspection Service – all good solid responsibilities.

Plenty goes on at Kooljaman Resort – the noise of helicopters in evidence. We’d recommend it as a beautiful holiday destination. We fancied the delightful looking large safari tents on raised platforms overlooking the swimming beach on the eastern side. After lunch we returned to the main road and continued on to the Ardiyooloon Community at the end of the line. Lea had just commented on the pleasure of entering another clean, peaceful looking community without dogs and debris when we promptly spotted what looked like a dead dog on the road centreline. Cautiously, we  crept towards it, both of us  peering out the driver’s window – when a voice rang out from under the bonnet of a vehicle on the left of the road- “It’s OK the dog’s just cold- it expects you to detour round it”. We all had a good laugh and we couldn’t help but be struck by the pleasant and humorous interchange instigated by the Aboriginal man. Very different to what we have experienced in Queensland and Northern Territory and it typified the rest of our visit within the Ardiyooloon – One Arm Point Community. We registered for our visitors permit at the shop ($10 pp) and given a luminous wristband. A glossy community map with photographs, information and places of interest produced by the students of the local High School was an excellent guide. The Trochus Hatchery caught our attention and we headed out to One Arm Point. We popped into Round Rock Lookout over the entrance to King Sound. At the base of which Derby was located and where we’d been a week ago. Standing at this lookout we found ourselves absolutely mesmerised...    

A quiet seething mass of crystal clear water powered through one of the many passages between a nest of islands at the entrance to King Sound. An equinox or king tide would be phenomenal viewed from here. 

Other than knowing Trochus was a shell we had no idea of its value... Button making operations began here in the early 1900’s using the inner mother-of-pearl surface of the shell while the Trochus meat provided a valuable source of protein. During the 1950’s , this fishing industry declined when plastic buttons swamped markets  However, in the 1970’s,  the hardy nature of Trochus buttons revived as a luxury product within the European fashion and the Ardyaloon Trochus Hatchery and Aquaculture was established to cultivate Trochus. Only the Bardi Jawi people are permitted to collect in one tank we found the tiny seeding of Trochus until they 20cm in size before being released back into the environment. Other display tanks gave us a wonderful insight into the local marine life of the Dampier Peninsula and we could watch the men cutting and polishing shells in their workshops off to the side. Manufactured products from polished and cut shells mainly jewellery were on sale and, curiously,  fragments of shell are ground down and used as a raw material in paints, cosmetic and other products. We’d just missed the afternoon guided talk yet we found all the staff very willing to talk and share their knowledge. Beyond the large shed shading the tanks and workmen we were constantly aware of the million dollar view and sheer power of the tidal current swiftly filling King Sound.  We may have been witnessing a low tidal range by Dampier standards but the 6.5 metre tide powering through was nothing to sniff at. A family arrived and overheard us discussing the water movement only to rave about the Giant Tide Tour they had done from Cygnet Bay through this King Sound Entrance. The adrenalin rush highly recommended! 

 

Ardyaloon Trochus Hatchery

Cygnet Bay Pearl Farm  came into its own in 1960 when a young Australia  changed the course of the Pearling industry by becoming the first non-Japanese person to figure out how to culture pearls. Having been to Willie Creek Pearl Farm in Broome we hadn’t planned to go to the only fully operational pearl farm open to the public in Cygnet Bay. All changed after hearing about the high speed boat ride to experience the force of the world’s largest tropical tides. Here, we should add the High School pupils of Ardiyooloon reckoned their tides were the second highest tides in the world at 10-12 metres. They gave title to the highest tides to Nova Scotia, Canada, where tidal measurements are 12-18 metres! We took the road to Cygnet Bay within King Sound to find out more about their many boat adventure tours, in particular the ‘Giant Tide’ and their campground. Unfortunately this new campground was unsuitable for caravans due to overhanging trees. The tide dependent tour times for the Giant Tide ride had already departed and others for the next few days were fully booked.

Although Middle Lagoon was the most suitably spacious campground for caravans – the grind of a 200 km return trip was just too far to contemplate on a daily basis to reach the pleasures of the Cape itself. We had to be content with having seen what was on offer as the only other possible campground for a caravan was Gambanan, an enticing 1.5 km of dirt from the main road beyond Kooljaman and Cygnet Bay. We had called in there but found the office closed and what we could see of the place overgrown... Later we learned the owner was sick and another couple had just arrived to take-over the running for the season and there was plenty of ‘catching up required but still a good campground. We decided to stay where we were at Middle Lagoon and booked another three days.

An advert on the Toilet block wall called for volunteers at Two Moons Whale Research Base. This interested us. We discovered it was en route to Whale Song Cafe – not at all far from Middle Lagoon and we decided to call in at the Base and find out more about the 2014 Season’s Whale monitoring before going to morning tea at Whale Song Cafe .The person in charge was too busy to talk and volunteers only required later in July.  Too late for us to consider! We found Whale Song Cafe and Campground! WOWEE! What a place – It really was what we’d consider a real nature hideaway.

The view from the cafe verandah overlooking the spectacular Pender Bay – a Humpback Whale nursery and resting ground from late July to October.

Odd, we’d only just discussed how beaches remained white despite the staining red soils and deep red cliffs adjacent to them; then we arrive at Whale Song Cafe and immediately see pinkish beach sands with red stain edging the waters along the sweep of the bay.  We asked about the campground – fully booked for the season with one night available Monday. We went to see the lie of the land regarding our caravan. Hidden away in the bush with a lovely trail through to it from the Cafe we found their ‘authentic bush camp’ broke into five sites arranged in a secluded location on the cliff edge overlooking the isolated beach of Pender Bay. We took a look at the outdoor shower set in the bush with carefully sculpted walls to maintain privacy - unusual and clever.  We booked Monday!

In the meantime, we happily whiled away days as strandloopers at Middle Lagoon. Against the glare of the afternoon sun Lea’s eye caught strange activity in the middle of the bay and thinking it may be a dolphin, she called George. Shoals of fish were also skittering across the surface as they made for the safety of rock platforms before we were able to determine a pair of Brown Booby. Flying close to the water before rising to dive and take fish from the waves. The white breasts added confusion to the splash of water as their aerobatic skills continued. Another early morning had four Brown Booby put on a display in the bay during low tide with the sun showing up their true coloration. How chuffed the A’s would have been to witness all this.

Belonging to the Munget Community, a stone fish trap gives Mayorr Campground its Aboriginal name. We were thrilled to have managed a night in site 4 here. And, arrived early to get the most out of the hours given us and the $40 price of a night...

  

Unable to get enough of the view, we had a ‘braai’ that night.

WHALES - Somewhat like Goldilocks we are either, too early or too late; never just right! Here we are at a perfect vantage point; one of the greatest places on earth to watch the majestic Humpback Whale only to find we are too early... After such brutal decimation of whales the world over past centuries it is heartening to hear population numbers are on the increase; particularly within the Humpbacks who summer in Antarctica and migrate to warmer waters in winter for birthing.  Most intriguing to us has been the discovery that globally, five main pods of Humpbacks have been identified by their winter calving areas as West Australia, East Australia, Hawaii and the South American coastlines. The West Australian pod, estimated at 20,000 is considered the dominant and largest population. They winter along the Kimberley coast.

Scientists always find something to investigate!

Dampier Peninsula return journey made; we arrived all shook up and unable to face another 15kms of similar conditions back to the Bird Sanctuary. We decided to try Broome Gateway Caravan Park. We had spotted this new campground on the road between Derby and Broome. Although 25kms from Broome we found large sites in a bush setting with excellent ablution block and a community fire pit for socialising. During winter peak season this turned out to be a far better bet than Broome parks in our mind. Next morning we took an easy ride back to Broome to replenish our stocks and give our rig a much needed wash down before  beginning the slow descent South, down the western coastline. We are in no hurry to face Perth’s wintery conditions. In the main, we will be travelling known roads and revisiting favourite places...

Out on the Roebuck Plains a wonderful sight of around 130 Brolgas met our eye. We stopped to watch an interaction of dancing, prancing or gentle strolls across the grasslands and heard communications in hoarse staccato croaks.

120kms from Broome we were glad to see the familiar ‘white tyre’ at the entrance to Thangool Station and the Barn Hill Eco based Park, our next destination. Despite knowing this was a popular campground – George still burst out with a bad word seeing just how crowded the place was in comparison to the handful on our last visit in summer! Very reasonable prices – we squeezed in more easily than you’d think because it is a huge area.  The wilder coast sites with views of the beach were at a premium. We took to the far end and tucked the rig into a beautifully private back site overlooking the bush. All George’s concerns for remaining static without power have fallen by the by since investing in the new solar panels to run the deepfreeze in SKV; in turn, unpowered sites give us the most freedom. Thangool Station is a working property of approximately 430 000 acres running 8000 head of Brahman cattle for the live export trade.  Their campground takes its name the landmarked ‘Barn’ shaped hill we look onto from the back of our site. The historical ‘cairn’ atop the hill was left by Alexander Forrest during his expedition to the Kimberley in 1879.  After five weeks of rough ‘horrorgations’ we thought we were over the worst when we cleaned up in Broome. However, arriving at Barn Hill we not only had a ‘flat’ on the caravan, the short corrugated road provided truth in the cliché straw that breaks the camel’s back.  How lucky we’d been not to lose the spare tyre! The welding had cracked on the bracket holding the tyre. Although George strapped the bad tyre back on for safety - by the time Lea closed the last gate departing Barn Hill she noticed the weld had completely given in and the tyre swung within the strapping, close to the road. 

Barn Hill Park provides two excellent stretches of beach out of their 85 km coastal frontage. Steps provided down to South beach and a delightful canyon-like entry to North beach.

There may be an enormous number of people camped here yet we are hardly aware of them or we weren’t until we returned from an evening walk through the powered sites and came across the finals for the afternoon Bowls Tournament taking place on a carefully tended but moth eaten stretch of grass. The social creatures were out in force and the good natured banter, clapping and laughter a sight to be seen. Barn Hill provides ‘Sunday night out’ with entertainment; Wednesday night BYO BBQ and sausage sizzles for any other little occasion like the Bowls tournament. Apparently the station has a reputation for daily fresh vanilla slices and lamingtons too. We only came for the magnificently scenic beaches...   

        

Last night in this glorious coastal environment that we rate in our top five for photogenic variety  of land forms and colours on a beach.  

Little did we know those clouds sweeping in were to bring 24 hours of very grey and overcast skies with heavy rain. 200 mm fell on the Dampier Peninsula within two hours and Broome Airport registered much the same. This is the DRY so the rain caught us all by surprise.  We do not enjoy travelling main highways in rain so took refuge in a 24hr Rest Area and were amazed when puddles formed in the parched land around us. There was no let up for the rest of the day...

Cape Keraudren is another of our favourite beauty spots along the Western coast and of course very popular with the fisher-folk.  All the best vantage sites overlooking the basin inlet had been taken and we were just about to settle for a back site when we notice a lone site further to back of the inlet – thrilled we stayed three nights. Last time we visited in peak summer we owned the place. Since then, very good enviro-toilet blocks and picnic shelters have been installed at both Sandy Beach and Boat slip campsites on either side of the Cape.  

It is hard to describe the fascination of this basin inlet that rises to the brim with the incoming tide and empties on the low allowing us to jump down into the base and walk the rock floor expanse.

Our next spot as the crow flies was a mere hop and a skip over the basin inlet but by road it was another 80 kms to Pardoo Station. Curious to see the coastline we were to be stunned by the size of the caravan park this cattle station has developed. Once an out-station for the massive De Grey Station it was bought out during the 1960’s and now boasts a shop and a restaurant along with a very popular caravan park surrounding the old homestead. Mustering was in process and we could hear cattle lowing. Most surprising, it wasn’t close to the sea and had no coastal views. To reach the beach or creek required vehicles to travel the 13km track- not our scene but interesting to know about and we spent a night there.

On reaching Port Hedland we happened across Vernelle Engineering and Vernon was most kind and put a young Appie onto the task of welding back our spare tyre attachment. An excellent job and in whiling away the time we discovered many of the staff were ex Zimbabweans. Amazing how accents alert! Next stop- to sort out spare on the caravan; that proved to be a faulty valve and before the day was done we were able to move on to the Yule River and a bush camp George had noticed and noted down on a previous run. We passed a previous stop-over on the West Peawah River and George reminded Lea it had been the place where a man had shocked Paula and Lea when he unexpectedly and angrily swore at them in the silence of the night.  It didn’t look the same and Lea felt the incident had occurred closer to Exmouth. Just as well we have the blog to refer to - .he was quite right! Despite happening within our first few months on the road it had been the only ‘scary’ experience in 8 years until Lea recalled a more recent episode occurred... One, we’d totally forgotten about and hadn’t even recorded... Lovely Frank Potts Reserve in South Australia where we stayed three times! On the second visit, we met up with Di and Peter Ryan and a couple of nights after their departure Lea awoke to a vehicle speeding into the Reserve, music blaring, headlights on full at 2 a.m. to halt in front of our rig before squeezing between the river bank and SKV to continue noisy passage amongst all the other campers. The sound system somewhat appropriately changed to “Bang! Bang! I shot you dead” to which the hoons added further mayhem with relish; banging fists on their car doors on the repetitive bang, bangs!  Having ensured all campers had been frightfully disturbed bar George, they departed.  As for the deep sleeper, he had to swallow his disbelief when clearly evident tracks in wet grass were found riskily close to our rig...

    

Herbert Parker Parking Area looked good and despite boulders and bollards to prevent folk disappearing into the bush- many campers had found a way to creep through to perfect spots along the river.  We found our own hideaway for two nights before heading on to discover Cleaverville Beach. The campground, open from May until September with a caretaker; was very busy and we battled to find a decent camp until a man kindly came and told us where a lone camp just off the beach was going begging. 

It was heavenly spot only Lea was to be bothered by nasty No-See-ums setting up severe itch whenever the wind dropped!

Tidal rock pools were full of interesting life and a 4WD adventure track up Jockey Hill (immediately behind us) into the surrounding hills so typical of the Pilbara – Spinifex studded rocky ridges provided views and walking for us.  The Sturt Peas – Western Australia’s beautiful State Flower were out in blossom along the roadside. And then we had the views out to sea. We would have stayed longer than two nights but the weather closed in on the second day and we ran into solar problems that night.  The generator playing up and in need of a good service and when rain arrived during the night we knew we had to move on to Karratha and find someone to service the Honda. This required an overnight stay in Karratha and just as well as the rain kept coming for the next 24 hours and this time a leak manifested itself in the roof and dripped loudly into an ice-cream container. To Lea’s delight we had TV; even better Monday’s best enabled us to catch up on the news of the world and the ghastly ‘downing’ of an Air Malaysian aircraft; reminded us of the equally ghastly Rhodesian Viscounts taken out of the sky by heat seeking missiles in the 1970’s. All incredibly tragic!

Having so enjoyed Cleaverville Beach we decided to try Gnoorea Point / 40 Mile Beach, south of Karratha. Another Shire Campground with a caretaker keeping control of the number of campers that stretches the length of the beach. We found lovely wild sites without the interesting views of Cleaverville. The beach itself was virtually non-existent by virtue of a wide belt of mangrove. No-see-ums have little effect on George and after the reactions of Cleaverville Lea dreaded more of the same. Whether they were there or not – who knows!  Lea kept them at bay with plenty of spray. SUN was back and the roof rapidly dried enabling George to climb up and reattach panels that had once again sheared screws before he resealed the roof joints and guttering after so much roof flexing of past weeks.

 For all our sea watching we had yet to see any sign of whales or even dugong!  What has sprung up along the coast is the Gas industry! 12kms across the grassy plain behind us is a Gas Plant and at night we observed the sea aglow with lights on the horizon. At first we thought it was ship movement until they didn’t move on. Through binoculars by daylight George was able to discern mining activity on Cape Preston. On the map it didn’t look as if it extended very far into the ocean. Reality showed a featureless range well out to sea. We soon discovered a gas pipe passed beneath Gnoorea Point at a depth of 10 - 25m and ran parallel to the beach road  to avoid impacting the environmental and recreational values  as it carried gas from Reindeer Off-Shore Platform  to Devil’s Creek Gas Plant. The gas field, 80 kms off shore began operation in 2011. On occasion at night we’d see flaring out on the gas field and learned in time, the controlled release and burning of excess gas results in a 20m high flame. At the Plant, gas is compressed and exported into the Natural Gas Pipeline Grid that runs from Dampier to Bunbury and our eyes attentively sought its position as we travelled south.

A view along ‘Warlu Way’.  We are filling in gaps on our map and travelling particular sections of the North West Coastal Highway for the first time as previously we had gone in to Karijini National Park or inland Pilbara.

We pulled into the Robe Rest Area as sole occupants at morning tea-time and within a short span of time the caravans and campers began to pack in around us that we were relieved to have taken the more private spot overlooking dry river bed. Good toilets and lunch shelters had been provided; even more impressive was the solar lighting and a wifi hot spot above one of the shelters (although no one was able to utilize the weak signal that came and went). A piano accordion serenaded the night from one camp fire.

We were drawn to visiting Onslow despite it being a long way off the highway as its name comes up so regularly in cyclone season.  Flat, grassy plains with little other than termite mounds to give shelter against cyclonic winds hammering the North West we were to see little during the 80km ride out to Onslow until we reached the tidal flats of Beadon Creek in  which the second largest salt industry of Western Australia depends. Two and a half million tons exported a year from the end of a loading jetty. The main street of Onslow with its centre of trees and bougainvillea was reminiscent of a Portuguese settlement in Mozambique’s yester-years.  Ocean View Caravan Park – despite being well off the beaten track finally reinforced our growing alarm at 2014 Western Australia Caravan Park price expectations. Since 2006 the costs have escalated to more than double. We were in two minds whether to stay and yet it was a long way to have come and not stayed... So we bit the bullet, showered and laundered before exploring.

Onslow turned out to be in the most cyclone prone part of the Australian coast with numerous severe cyclones battering it over the decades at wind speeds of 170km per hr and a record 1975 registered 246 km an hour. Just to the west of the caravan park at the War Memorial with its striking arc to meet the rising sun we found memorials to crews from fishing boats that lost their lives to Cyclone Bobby. Leaving from this point was a 1 km board walk to the salt loading jetty which provided us with a morning walk before our departure. To the east of the caravan park a hive of construction activity – cyclone proof apartments elevated to protect from storm surges were nearing completion and at the Visitor Information Centre we soon learned that Chevron Gas due for completion in 2015 had initiated a change in fortunes for this little town much the same as it has done for the Karratha (most recently declared a city) and Dampier region. In the well documented museum we discovered Onslow had been the furthermost point south attacked by the Japanese in September 1943; as a result of being a U.S. Submarine Refuelling Base. And, another point of interest occurred in October 1952. Britain carried out its first nuclear tests with an atomic bomb exploding on the Montebello Islands from the Onslow military base.  

Left: A salt pond and the loading jetty. Right Top: War Memorial looking east across Beadon Bay. Bottom; Chevron’s gas pipeline under construction to the new port of Ashburton, south of Onslow.      

Departing Onslow, we chose to take the 4WD only Twitchen Road south and rejoin the highway at Yannarie River for a change of scenery. The VIC had mentioned it was in good condition as Chevron Gas was working out there although could be dusty. For the first 30 kms we sailed along the dirt road dampened for dust suppression until we passed the last large construction camp. Thereafter, the road deteriorated into heavily coated bull dust and sand that we had to engage 4WD. We saw nothing other than a wedge tail eagle rise from the road side and unbelievably; we were mightily astonished by the foolhardy appearance of a station hand on a motorbike on our left, despite the chokingly thick dust cloud we left in our wake. As this intrepid fellow passed us in such lousy conditions we barely saw through his trail of dust!   A 115 kms later – more mileage than expected, we were glad to immediately pull up in Barradale Rest Area only to be initially put-off by the number of caravans and motorhomes settled in the vicinity of the toilet and BBQ picnic area.  We continued through this expansive rest-stop towards the river and finally settled on the sandy edge of Yannarie River’s extensive width of flood plain.  By nightfall we had folk on either side of us – unbelievable to see how many travellers are now using these facilities. We stopped here 10/07/06 and there was nothing like the numbers we experienced 26/10/2014. Given that the road between Carnarvon and Karratha has little else other than the odd roadhouse – we can’t help but wonder if they are shunning the coastal caravan parks as too expensive for an overnight stop on top of fuel costs required to reach those destinations? We stayed another night and from EMPTY by 9 a.m. we again, had newcomers scrabbling for sites by dusk.  A ‘city’ mushrooms up from midday. In the past, many travellers stopped around 3 p.m. and if no one had joined them by 4p.m. they went in search of the next populated rest-stop believing safety in numbers... 

Our camp on Yanarrie River.

For the two days we were entertained by an Australian Noisy Minor hopped around our door for any signs of crumbs while its juvenile hopped up and down a branch in the tree above us chirruping incessantly if mother was in sight. Mother bird seemed to have a fascination for our broom until George realised it was after Lea’s long hairs caught in the bristles. Three crested pigeons also enjoyed feeding in the caravan surrounds which the minor did not appreciate and demonstrated this by leaping onto an unsuspecting back sending feathers flying as it pecked the owner’s neck. A butcher bird nesting in a tree further away was also driven off in this manner by our aggressive little light-weight neighbour.

Like elephants – caravans draw in for a night and by early morning they have quietly disappeared. Most travellers appeared to be heading for very popular Coral Bay or the Ningaloo Marine Park around Exmouth. Cape Range National and Exmouth quietly and at the coastal turn off we continued to cover another ‘gap’ on our map. Approaching the Lyndon River we arrived at 23½⁰ South – Tropic of Capricorn again. In leaving the tropics we had so enjoyed; a sense of disbelief washed over us, broad smiles covered our faces knowing, Inshallah, we’d be back on the Tropic of Capricorn in just over three months time – only it would be South America!

A bleak landscape of desertification with cattle skeletons, carcasses of emu, sheep and kangaroo followed. We were headed for a night-stop at Lake Macleod as it didn’t possess a close to road icon in our Camps 6. Sailing past a small roadside rest area the realisation came to George that it matched the mileage posts of Lake Macleod and we turned back. Although grey nomads were in the throes of setting up for a night we decided we just couldn’t face this dismal scene despite having been co-oped up in SKV for 3 hours. After an early lunch break we pushed on another 150km to Point Quobba. A Western Australian mini Mosi-oa-tunya (a smoke that thunders - nothing as good as the original - Victoria Falls) rose out of the salt flats above the  dune as we neared the coast. After weeks of gently undulating or softly heaving ocean waters it was quite something to come over a primary dune and feel the fierce wind as it blew white horses over a turbulent sea thundering onto the rocky platform that stretched north and southwards. The Point Quobba blowholes sending plumes of spray sky high.  

Although the camping area at Point Quobba had undergone improvements at the beach parking area with new toilets, a boardwalk and beach shelters (for the expense entailed one was  ridiculously positioned below the high water mark) we found the same scruffy shack settlement in which to weave through finding a suitable site for our caravan.  In comparison to the more ordered Forty Mile Beach and Cleaverville Campgrounds ($10 a site a night) this was a disappointment as was the charge of $11 per person per night. When it came time to pay we actually had a concession - $8 p.p.  In 2006 we paid $5.50 a site. A good walk along the steeply shelving beach overlooking a lagoon and near-shore reef with huge rollers crashing on the outer edge gave us a chance to stretch our legs before the wind became too tiresome. Although tempted to go further north to Red Bluff to revisit a favourite spot of Justine and Daniel’s as well as the chosen resting place for much loved Jamie Taylor’s ashes - we didn’t have the fuel. Instead we went a short distance north to Quobba Station to check it out. A lovely ablution block and laundry came with the $10 p.p. per night charge within a large and very open campground with scattered low growing wind cropped shrubs. Rather like Brer Rabbit’s brier bush we soon noticed rabbits inhabited the thick, low lumps of bush.  And, rather like Middle Beach on the Dampier Peninsula – the greenery rose slightly to meet the sky giving no sea views. However, we could hear the waves thundering upon the rocky platforms and, until the wind came up we’d even hear ‘rattling’ of shells as the water withdrew.  

  

Quobba Station runs 10,000 Damara Sheep  and  two rams grazed around our camp site.

At the Shearing Shed a large flock of roman nosed ewes were penned up... Not for shearing as Damara is a hairy breed of sheep imported from Namibia for the meat market. On registering, the owner had mentioned the whales were on the move north and we decided to go sit up on primary dune and watch for whales since it was such a balmy morning ... Once on the rise the hidden beaches beckoned....  

Like Barn Hill Station, Quobba Station fronts 80kms of coast. Notorious  King Wave territory  we heeded the many warnings to take care out on the rock ledges that line the beach. 

Between one ledge and another, we found sandy coves with shells rattling away within the tide line. Like discarded angel wings there was a preponderance of clam shells. Every size, often still jointed lay about until the continual tumbling broke them apart and wore down their characteristic shaping. Heavily fossilised sections of rock added to the pleasure of beach combing this endless, lonely coastline but there were no spouting whales out to sea...

After no mobile, radio or television signal for days and birthdays to mark with at least a text message we moved on to Carnarvon a day earlier than planned. Roughly halfway between Broome and Perth, we found the little Northwesta Caravan Park we have used on a previous occasion. Freddy runs his hands-on park and charges were still very fair. We delightedly stayed a night to replenish with fresh food and post July blog.