Tramping tales for February 2014

 

   The setting sun at Frank Potts Reserve cast beautiful lights upon the River Red Gums.

We found it hard to leave lovely Frank Potts Reserve but the River Red Gums just weren’t enough to keep us cool once the temperature climbed into the 40’s. We took off for very picturesque Mt Barker with its many, many heritage Oak trees lining the streets.  A cinema in town had us book into the Caravan Park for a week! A boundary site under a forest of trees with the unexpected pleasure of bleating sheep on the other side of the green barricade, added a rural touch to our liking.  An easy walk along the river into town and the cinema made it all the more perfect. As soon as we had settled we dashed out to find the cinema and escaped the worst of the midday heat seeing ‘The Book Thief’. Lea wallowed in delight and since her birthday had been ‘on hold’ we trotted up early next morning and saw ‘Philomena’. Before the week was out we’d enjoyed a delicious glut of films as we added The Railway Man and Twelve Years a Slave. All the films were tear-jerking.  Aquarian Lea, with strong humanitarian ties used the tissues...

The uniquely German town of Hahndorf we’d so enjoyed visiting with the Skehels in 2006, was a definite must being so close to Mt Barker.   Hahndorf is Australia’s oldest German settlement built by a close knit group of Prussian settlers in 1839 and it is an absolute delight to wander the streets – aligned with ancient old elm and plane trees. We arrived before many of the shops had even opened and made our way to the Hahndorf Academy   to see its regional heritage centre and art gallery. We were particularly interested in Sir Hans Heysen, having discovered him (one of Australia’s most famous artist’s) when we stumbled upon a wattle and daub hut he’d used as a base in the Central Flinders. We had followed his art trail to another of his refuges up in the Finders Range in 2007 and realised why this man was renowned for his gum trees and the Australian light that he captured so perfectly.   Immigrating to Australia as a young child he had grown up in Hahndorf within a very poor family unable to provide the finances required for art lessons despite his amazing aptitude. Teachers made sure it was nurtured from the age of 14. His artistic ability was to see him through life with relative ease. His home, ‘The Cedars’ has been carefully preserved on the edge of Hahndorf by his children and in turn, grandchildren. In the Academy we discovered his 4^th daughter was also an artist. Before we could learn more we dashed off to find The Cedars as we heard there was a tour of the residence at 11 a.m.   We spent a most worthwhile few hours and learnt so much about Hans Heysen and his family of 8 children (5 girls and then 3 boys). Only Nora inherited her father’s artistic genes and not only became the first woman, but the youngest ever to win The Archibald in 1938 with her portrait of a socialite she hadn’t taken to!  And, she was the first woman war artist to be appointed during World War Two.  However, over the next four decades her work was overlooked and it wasn’t until 2002, approaching 92 that Nora was finally given recognition and regained the status of an Australian woman artist of historical significance. In her studio provided by her parents on the property, we thoroughly enjoyed a time frame of her work spanning 80 years. Plus Nora’s palette well used over seventy years, given to her when a very young girl by Dame Nellie Melba. It was fascinating to discover that although Hans was a shy and rather withdrawn man who didn’t enjoy going out publically at all, many famous people were to be entertained in his home such as Dame Nellie the singer and Anna Pavlova the ballet dancer who, I might add fell for a particular painting Hans had given his wife as a present. Throughout dinner, Anna tried to persuade him to part with it; even gave Hans a blank cheque. He was not to be moved,  offered to paint something similar and according to history when it had been completed - she refused saying ‘If she couldn’t have what she wanted, she  preferred to have nothing’!  After our guided tour through the ‘hallowed’ sanctuaries of Nora and her father’s studios and an insight into their lifelong home that grew from a small Victorian house into a rambling home with Germanic influences to fit his growing family.  We couldn’t help feel privileged and enriched by our visit and happily took a gentle wander through the Heysen’s garden and his extensive 150ha property gaining a new understanding of well known paintings – as we followed the winding Artist’s Walk to points, where this great man had drawn inspiration. Some of his beloved gumtrees are long gone but the essence of place exists and it must be said his work encompassed far more than gum trees. Any subject matter using a variety of medium was always beautifully executed.

“Give me Art that comes from the world that surrounds us, the beauty of which we can see and absorb – a clean beauty that makes us the happier for our experience” – Hans Heysen.

Heysen’s Studio came from prize money and is the only purpose built studio in the country. Attuned to Nature, he spent a great deal of time outdoors and we delighted in seeing his home-build, early pop-top caravan! 

We were distracted somewhat by sculptures being installed in readiness for an annual event mid February. John Nelson’s subject entitled ‘The Ultimate recycle cycle’ caught our eye because two dung beetles rolled a globe of the world.  ‘Ghost Dingoes’ by Clancy Warner also drew us up for a closer look as they suited their positioning in the dry landscape so beautifully. Probably quite unwittingly, close to the yellowed grasses the ghost dingoes slunk through were dried out bushes that naturally matched the barbed wire, used to create the dingoes. Unfortunately there was no name or subject on the marker stick that really had us pause – a gash in the earth being stitched up giving rise to many connotations... The reason we knew of the upcoming Sculpture Expo resulted from a bright orange plastic road barrier which ludicrously stuck out like a sore thumb in the bush Hans Heysen’s studio overlooked. Lea asked George if he had a photo of that, “No ways “, he retorted!  However, we’d be doing the sculpture disfavour, as there was far more to it than met the distant eye. The intricacies within it were amazing but sadly, in the early stage of the Artist walk we hadn’t picked up on marker sticks pertaining to each site – only a few had been inscribed down the side with Sculptor’s name and subject.

 

Hot, hungry and thirsty we returned to Hahndorf for a late lunch. Visits to Germany have left us with an abiding pleasure in German cuisine and in keeping with Hahndorf found a typical German cafe for bratwurst and sour kraut.  Later, we stopped by a German bakery for a Bee-sting.  Although tasty it didn’t come up to the superb standard of Durban’s Belgica Hotel’s version or the slice we had up in the Konigstein Fortress overlooking the Elbe River and Saxon Switzerland.  YUM, sweet memories...

Wondering whether to take the  coastal route west through Adelaide, we decided to take a day’s run around the outskirts of Adelaide, exploring its length of seafront and familiarising ourselves with caravan parks, particularly as we didn’t want to get want to get snared up in the Adelaide Hills or city centre with a caravan.  From the steep drive down the northern side of the city through to the tip of the Outer Harbour we began an inspection of all the different beaches overlooking the Gulf of St Vincent with amazingly uniform characteristics – seemingly safe, shallow near shore waters and patches of sea grasses provided a darkened pattern within the sea green waters – many old folk chatted as they gently bobbed out in the water – a relaxed way of keeping cool with barely a wave to be seen.  Many jetties added to the beach scene. While enjoying a good walk along the length of West Beach we noticed pipes emerged out of the primary dune. Not drains! They formed part of an unusual sand replenishment solution.

Our week up, we edged round the Adelaide Hills attempting to add new routes to those previously travelled and found ourselves coming across delightful little villages: Woodside, Lobethal, Gumeracha and Birdwood, all busy with Sunday’s passing trade for coffee.  The motor bike fraternity was out in force on the road and we spotted a huge gathering at an obviously favourite gathering place for late breakfast - Amber Lights cafe.  A huge Rocking Horse at Gumeracha reminded us of Troy’s wooden horse in Turkey. We watched a peacock put his life in peril crossing the busy road here, too. Perth Hills – Adelaide Hills – similar but different yet equally enjoyable for getting out and about, over weekends. We settled in Mt Pleasant. According to our ‘bible’ we’d reached Talunga Park Caravan Park yet the gateway was signed Mt Pleasant Showgrounds – looked far more like a very spacious sportsground with hundreds of wood ducks feeding on the oval under sprinklers. We found a large oak tree to park under and stayed three days. In March the whole area  becomes the showground, so we learnt.

On the evening walk alongside the oval – our eyes were drawn to the carved animals in the children’s playground and a picnic area. We popped across for closer inspection as George was wondering about the carved snakes. Had they been joined to go around the tree or carved in situ- joined! Layer, the caretaker arrived to collect fees and we asked about Rex Amber the carver. We discovered this local resident had died back in 1987 and his animals dated well before that. All subjected to a tough life in the park, particularly the turtle (regularly turned on its back) and a large crocodile. The poor croc, on numerous occasions was towed behind a ute through town by local youths having a lark!   George, the caretaker, in an effort to preserve these treasures, keeps them painted. We liked the snakes and yabby!  

Continuing up the Torrens Valley scenic route to Eden Valley, a short distance away, on the thirteenth day of consecutive temperatures in the 40’s breaking a 117 year old heat record; we edged along vineyards to Eden Valley Caravan Park. The caretaker allowed us to park well under some pine trees calling it a ‘pent house’ site in view of  heat -10am and already a stinky of a day.  We’d stayed here in 2006 with Joe and Mona Skehel when we’d brought them up to see a few of the Barossa wineries.  We were back for two nights on this community showground/sports field run by the Barossa Council; ready to meet up with Di Godson from Perth, her dog Benny and a friend Jenny Matthews.  Di recently invested in Gypsy Rose, rented her home for a year and set off to enjoy the golf courses around Australia with Benny. Jenny, keen to travel the Nullarbor had accompanied Di on her Perth/Adelaide leg before flying on to Rockhampton.  Way laid by the numerous distractions travel unexpectedly exposes, we were down to one night with Di.

Air-con ran all day and night and on waking next morning we delighted in a fresh feel to the air and signs of drizzle.  A brisk morning walk took us out into the farming surrounds and we were glad to get a good leg stretch amongst the rolling hills so typical of outer Adelaide, until raindrops had us about turn. We were pretty damp by the time we arrived home. By midday the rain had set in and it barely let up for the next two days.  Extra-ordinary, to go from record breaking heat wave to record breaking rainfall; the heaviest torrential rain in 45 years!   Spag Bol prepared in readiness for a happy evening together with no time wasted over mundane – it was good to see Gypsy Rose roll in towing Di’s motor bike on a trailer.  

 

Gypsy Rose in the background, three damp cookies Di, Jenny and Lea enjoy dinner in the camp kitchen rather than huddled in Getaway, made possible by a short break in the weather!  

Most off putting to get back on the road in such wet conditions especially when the News reported flash flooding in and around Adelaide. Di and Jenny needed to be closer to the airport. We were keen to be further west in readiness for our long awaited ‘touring leg’ with Di and Peter Ryan, travelling across from Perth.  We were being drawn in the direction of Burra, after both of us read Simon Nasht’s book “The Last Explorer”.    On Valentine’s Day, in windy, overcast rainy weather we drove to Burra, pitched camp in the showgrounds just before the heavens opened up and the area received 75mm of rainfall in the space of 3-4 hours. That evening we received an SES Alert on our mobile to ‘Watch and Act as there was a risk of flash flooding in your area’. Amazing how useful mobiles prove to be in times of serious fire and flooding.  We checked around us and all was well on our hill.

The weather looked a lot less threatening the next day and we decided to grab what information available from Burra VIC before setting our purpose for having come this way in motion... 16kms was Mt Bryan where Australia’s unsung hero, Sir Hubert Wilkins (photographer, adventurer, aviator, and Polar explorer) had grown up.  We picked up on other snippets of interest while at the VIC aside from the need to collect a key from Mt Bryan Hotel for the Wilkins homestead and to be very wary of road conditions...  

En route to Mt Bryan, the relics of the Burra Homestead used by Australian Band, Midnight Oil’s, ‘Diesel and Dust’ CD cover in the 80’s. Meaningful to a mother, whose love of their music, came by compulsory osmosis and echoes with memories of a teenage son, in Africa.

 After wasting an hour patiently waiting for the hotel to open followed by no response to phone calls; we eventually set off on our own for Mt Bryan East. A gravel road took us past the rugged Razorback Range into farmland set amongst rolling hills. After so much rain the previous day, we found it strange to see little evidence along the gravel road other than a few washaways here and there or puddles beside the road. In a landscape so parched and thirsty for water it had been immediately soaked up. As for the number of ruins; there were many! Lovely old stone homesteads  abandoned by occupants who’d given up on the struggle of farming beyond the Goyder Line (SA Surveyor General, George Goyder had delineated the 250mm isohyets or rain line between land deemed suitable for agriculture and land that was not.  Dry watercourses were now nothing but deep gullies carved into the red earth. We were amongst “the land of the ghosts” so well described by Simon Nasht in his superb book The Last Explorer. It was hardly surprising that both George Goyder and Hubert Wilkins became preoccupied by the impact of droughts and the fickleness of rain and weather.

We came to understand this on reaching the humble Wilkins Homestead set in a pretty bleak landscape beset with wind.  Although we were unable to enter the building as we did not have the keys it was still just as inspiring to walk around the outside of the house thinking of Hubert (1888- 1958) tending to his father’s sheep, hunting dingoes and camping out with his Aboriginal friends. The last born of 13 children (five died) in this small house without power and where water had to be collected off the roof in a climate where water was so scarce. He attended the tiny Mt Bryan East School – a walk in high heat or cold that lay all of 4 kms away. Someone, raised in the back of beyond, not even in possession of a birth certificate rose to knighthood, with a list of achievements so far reaching and numerous that after his death it was proposed his remains be interred in Westminster Abbey! Instead, at the request of his wife, his ashes were scattered from a nuclear submarine under the North Pole.  An absolutely amazing man that, sadly, many Australians seem not to have even heard about!  It was thanks to millionaire business man and entrepreneur Dick Smith with his interest in aviation and keen to know more about Sir Hubert Wilkins and his birthplace; that the house, reduced to a pile of rubble, was brought to light in 1990. Dick Smith initiated a building project with the help of the Australian Geographic Society and restoration of Wilkins childhood home began in 1999 and completed 2001.

Next we set off to find the school he attended. A tiny place with a single classroom and an attached room for the teacher to live in. It is now used as a stop-over by hikers undertaking the Heysen Trail, as a result the school is open and a bank of mattresses on an elongated bunk bed took up the majority of space.  A pile of books left behind by hikers stacked in the corner.  Lea’s eyes noticed  ‘Gold Beyond your Dreams” and she began reading the Heather Turland story of winning marathons and that was that; it had to leave with her- The Book Thief!   We returned via Hallett hoping to see some “very significant gum trees”. Not knowing where to start looking for them we happened to ask a fellow we saw standing in a driveway training a puppy to stay in a ute! He turned out to be a veritable font of information! A  5^th generation farmer, quick to  explain the trees concerned were nothing more than a small copse of snow gums growing on private property at the top of Mt Bryan.  Their ‘significance’ as the only snow gums outside the Victoria Alps and the high country of NSW thanks to a chilly microclimate experienced on Mt Bryan’s summit (where slight sprinklings of snow are known to fall in severe winters accounting not only for their presence, but also that of a tiny orchid) came to public knowledge when Greenies presented them as a reason against building wind farms on Mt Bryan. Now, faced with the realities of climate change, he was finding it more and more difficult to keep going. As for his two young sons he saw no prospects for them on the land. His ensuing viewpoint even led to how CO₂ released into the atmosphere from the melting of permafrost now underway in the northern hemisphere meant that whether we liked it or not the process of climate change was well and truly underway, and that the outcome in the form of more extreme, unpredictable weather was inevitable.  Spot on … other than the fact he thought more wind farms would help reduce the problem!  People need to realise that once that “tipping point” has been reached, there is no turning back.  

Although we had previously spent a night in the showgrounds of Burra as we passed through; we had noticed the many quaint stone cottages  spread along the valley and with another day in hand before we moved off we were interested in learning more about Burra and its reputation as the  best preserved mining town in South Australia. We devoted the next day (Sunday 16th) to a tour of Burra Burra Mine (Monster Mine - colloquially). The new colony of South Australia’s first Company mine with the richest ore in the world at the time 1845 – 1867. Miners, predominantly from Cornwall with the expertise, flocked to the area to mine underground.  We walked around the mine site admiring the stonework on the tall, recently restored engine houses that once contained the winding machines and beam pumps required to dewater the mine. Afterwards, we drove back into the village to find the dugouts on the creek bank where prior to 1850 the families of up to 1800 miner’s lived, as a result of housing shortages. Many children were to die living in this type of situation and it seemed natural to move onto the cemetery and take a walk around – thick swathes of fine leaf matter and soft seed pods blanketed the flow paths of storm water between graves. 

 

 

 

 

 

A blue dome day after days of heavy rain cloud and we made for Clare, a regional centre for the wine making Clare Valley and surrounds where we looked forward to a good sized supermarket to replenish with fresh fruit and vegetables. Woolworths was a pleasure to see and once we’d completed our shop we climbed over the last of the hills to be given extended views across the coastal plains at the head of the Yorke Peninsula. Preferring to colour in new routes, we travelled the road to Blyth before turning north to Brinkworth, where we stopped for the night in this little settlements ‘Travellers Rest’ – cheap, clean and quiet.  Next day, we happily met up with Di and Peter Ryan in Port Broughton.   

 

A team pic at Port Broughton’s jetty overlooking Spencer Gulf! The daily walk didn’t go far due to non-stop chatter!

 

We were ready to explore the well known ‘leg’ of land known as the Yorke Peninsula.

Travelling down the western side we ‘goosed’ around in Moonta awhile trying to locate the 1860 copper mine established there after a shepherd found green stones around a wombat burrow. With the copper industry erupting in South Australia, many skilled miners from Cornwall immigrated. They were nicknamed cousin Jacks and Jennies and Cornish influences are strong throughout the Yorke Peninsula which is also known as the copper coast. Apart from the tailing dumps, the engine room ruins were similar in style to Burra. We rested up in the Barley Capital of the World- Minlaton for the night in a most pleasant caravan park overlooking a fauna park. Movement there often caught our eye and we’d see emus and later kangaroos passing along the boundary fence.

Captain Harry Butler’s Memorial captured our attention during the evening walk...

Captain Butler’s celebration arises in August 1919 as the first man to fly travel over ‘sea’ in the Southern Hemisphere carrying the Royal Mail from Adelaide to his hometown, Minlaton, on the Peninsula. We found that rather extraordinary as the St Vincent Gulf is not that wide and George was convinced Sir Hubert Wilkins had been the first to cross the Timor Sea during the course of the England to Australia Air race in 1919. Memory failed; as on checking he found Sir Hubert had crashed beforehand! It was good to see how much care and expense had been put into preserving Captain Butler’s Bristol monoplane ‘Red Devil. He purchased it from the British Government; shipped it out to South Australia and made a name for himself as a dare devil with his flying stunts. Naturally, it was painted red!

The 1881 Lighthouse at Corny Point – named by Matthew Flinders for looking like a corn on the foot of Yorke Peninsula! We thought it more like the little toe.

Ryan’s were delayed by a slow puncture in Minlaton. We walked the scenic area here before putting the kettle on in readiness for their arrival. As we travelled east the wind rose and clouds moved in bringing squally weather. A decision was made to check out the Innes National Park camp sites before taking caravans in and we booked into Marion Bay Caravan Park.

The afternoon was spent exploring Innes National Park with dramatic views and interesting historical tales. The wind, so strong along the coast it made photography difficult.

The ticked site in Camp 6 at Pondalowie Campground failed to impress us with narrowly confined sites, all in close proximity making them difficult to negotiate with anything other than small caravans or camping trailers. We were to pass many emu families along the route, quite unperturbed by vehicles, which is unusual. Historic Inneston Township’s Walking trail with interpretive signs provided the story of a tight knit community in this remote location, during the early 1900’s mining gypsum. Between the ruins of the township and the Stenhouse jetty the ground glinted with small fragments of crazy paving gypsum – similar in appearance to mica or shattered shards of mirror. To the teacher among us- in a small shed, chalk, a by-product of gypsum proved particularly interesting as Bellco Chalks had supplied most Australian schools! Having seen all that was on offer in the National Park we decided to move on up the eastern ‘leg’ next day. A LONG day ensued as nothing appealed in the little towns or camping grounds that we called in to see. By the afternoon the weekend crowd with boats and caravans were particularly noticeable on the busy road that bounced us around with its uneven surface. Caravan parks fully booked and on seeing the non powered spots they were prepared to squeeze us into, we scampered! We kept going out, until out  the Peninsula we reached Balaklava and fortunately found quiet respite in an open and attractive caravan park run by the council. Whilst glad to have seen what Yorke Peninsula offered, general consensus was a lot of kilometres for little relaxation and reward. Personally, we recognised many similarities to Kangaroo Island with its cultivated land and coves around the foot or bottom end.

We decided to return east to the Barossa Region with the Ryan’s and base up at Eden Valley so that we could visit Maggie Beer’s Farm store together.  A delightful Sunday was spent in Tanunda enjoying a couple of visits to cellar doors in an area synonymous with wine. Must say we gain a different perspective of wine regions when we are with the Ryan’s as opposed to travelling straight through. Seppeltsfield Road had a beautiful stretch lined with old palm trees dating back to 1851 when the Seppelt family built their winery and played a significant role in Barossa’s early history. Rare fortified wines sold in 100ml bottles according to year of birth or age are a mind boggling price! Further along the well known road was one of our reasons for returning to the Adelaide outskirts - Maggie Beer’s Farm Shop.

All day eating overlooking the lake, vineyard and olive grove – was delectable!

We fell for Maggie when she appeared on television in a delightful series The Cook and the Chef. Maggie, a self taught cook moved to the Barossa, with her husband to farm pheasants. In an effort to market their game birds they opened a farm shop. With Maggie demonstrating ways to cook the pheasant to up sales; the shop grew into the famed Pheasant Farm restaurant. When it all proved a bit much she changed direction and began Maggie Beer’s Farm shop.  What a setting; what a delight to wander amongst her farm brands all for sale with very generous tasting tables for everything. Lea battled to get George to TRY and ended up bringing forced tasting to him... Easy to spend big as all so deliciously unusual and made with a Foodie’s love!  The Burnt fig or the Raspberry and pomegranate jams very special but then so was the salted brandy caramel sauce and of course Maggie’s name is well tied to Verjuice and Vino cotto.  Lea particularly fancied the coffee and the fig flavoured ones, stalwartly refraining from spending as ambitious plans lie ahead of us. We delighted in her baskets of bread and pate for lunch – missed the photographic opportunity when they arrived garnished with blossomed mint sprigs. Well before the 2 p.m. cooking demo in Maggie’s kitchen (a copy of her real kitchen used for the Cook and Chef Series) Di and Lea ensured they had front row seats. Maggie was away at her beach house and in her place Seb, a delightful young lad who’d been with Maggie for 6 years, ran the show.  He asked who was excited to be there... Di’s enthusiastic ‘yes’ overheard above all voices promptly had her nailed as his assistant. So Di cooked in Maggie’s kitchen no less. Great place - great day!

A week with the Ryan’s not quite up, they departed for a night in Adelaide and we made for Frank Potts Reserve to await them for a last night before they continued their travels towards Melbourne. We could hardly believe the ‘traffic’ in Frank Potts- busy, busy, busy!  So much so, it had overflowed to another area near the Creek Bridge. Fortunately our previous spot was vacant and we set up ‘laager’ there. The Ryan’s arrived on schedule and so taken with our attractive spot they stayed two nights in Frank Pott’s, much to our glee. Knowing little about the Coorong and Murray River Mouth we were glad to join them on a ride down to Milang and around western side of Lake Alexandrina to Hindmarsh Island, Goolwa Barrage and the lookout over Goolwa Beach.  Di remarked on its likeness to Muizenberg Beach. Having lived in Muizenberg – it certainly presented a truth!  We ended up picnicking up at the Horseshoe Bay Lookout in Port Eliot before retracing the route home through the vineyards and olive groves.

 

Overlooking the Murray River mouth from Hindmarsh Island.

The Goolwa Barrage

After a lovely week together, our friends departed for Victoria. Hopefully we will meet up with them again on their homeward journey through South Australia in early April.  Oddly, for us, we’d departed Frank Potts at the beginning of February and here we were, back in Frank Potts to see out the last six nights of February in order to bring our monthly expenditure back under control in this lovely free camp. 

A pan of the Frank Potts Reserve, a peaceful environment. We camp off the bottom right corner and enjoy watching numerous backpackers  arrive  late evening to swell numbers further with their tents...

Tramping tales for January 2014

The largest river in Australia is the Murray. It rises in the Snowy Mountains and weaves its way across three states: New South Wales, Victoria and South Australia creating the natural border between these states before discharging into a complex of Lakes and lagoons dominated by Lake Alexandrina. Its final connection to the sea has been interfered with by a series of barrages between Goolwa and the Coorong National Park, an enormously long sandy spit known as the Younghusband Peninsula. We have a special affection for the Coorong National Park on this 145 km narrow neck of sand dunes. It arose through an Australian classic children’s story set amongst the dunes. Storm Boy was introduced to us in Darwin by Judy Lennie. Such is our passion or more probably aging brain; we gave our grandson Finn William the DVD Storm Boy for Christmas, a second year running!

 We first came to the Coorong after buying our home on wheels in 2006. During that quick visit we’d been horrified to see our window blinds fall off on the first use of gravel roads in our new, supposedly ‘off-road caravan’ in the Coorong. Now, as seasoned travellers, marking time between our visit to Kangaroo Island and a houseboat trip scheduled for mid January we had time to return to the Coorong.

We took up a lone site at Long Point, a bush campground, 23km west of Meningie, overlooking the Coorong Northern Lagoon that lies immediately behind the Younghusband Peninsula. From start to finish of our two days and nights there the wind blew.  We were reminded of our trip to Tiree in the Inner Hebrides during high season for windsurfing! From the windows of our delightfully cosy stone cottage we’d looked out upon calm and contented scenes of grazing cattle and sheep across the flat pastures. Other than a continuously gentle sound of rattling we had no idea of the strength of the arctic wind that swept ceaselessly across the virtually treeless island as nothing swayed to alert us. Outside we could barely stand up; let alone stand still. It was much the same in our caravan in the Coorong. Until we stepped out the door and the elements roughly pushed us aside and the wind threatened to rip our door from its hinges. A closer inspection of the open waters showed the rippling of many white horses and glancing across the golden grasslands we observed little movement until eyes dropped close by and noticed flattened grass barely rippled such was the velocity.    

 

All these descendants of Mr. Percival the Pelican, Silver Gulls and Terns were forced to take shelter from the relentless southerly....

The weather report had warned the remains of Western Australia’s Cyclone Christine was tracking southwards across the country and South Australia scheduled to feel the effects. Since New Year day the wind had been building and five days later we were still being buffeted and the whistling only seemed to get worse despite a blue sky. We moved on to Narrung Jetty Reserve overlooking Lake Alexandrina. We’d read of this ‘Favourite Free Camp’ in a Caravan Magazine and it was certainly merited. It was busy when we arrived that we plonked ourselves in the middle hoping someone would leave the sheltered area but no sooner had 24hr folk moved off other caravans drew in so we stayed where we were as by then we had a Great Egret entertaining us with its dainty stepping and fishing in the shallows just metres from our door. Pelicans circled or perched on the jetty within sight and not far across the grey green waters a lighthouse and stone cottage, an added feature to our scene. Later, we discovered this was Point Malcolm, built in 1878 and operated until 1931. It is the only fresh water lighthouse in the southern hemisphere and was used by isolated farmers for their supplies. At the narrow neck between Lake Alexandrina and Lake Albert is the Narrung Ferry concealed by a clump of river reeds on our side. We see it when it banks on the far side not far from the lighthouse up on the bluff and hear the clunk when a heavy vehicle drives off on our side. There are many ferry crossings in operation on the Murray River. They are a free, 24 hour service that can take up to 8-12 vehicles at a time.

The view from our door at Narrung Jetty Reserve

The following day, the wind produced a very grey and chippy day. Nevertheless we unhitched and set off just west of Narrung, to hopefully discover just who David Unaipon was.   

Money drew us here! More specifically, the person depicted on a Fifty dollar note...

We stumbled upon a gem of a community in Raukkan and spent hours there; learning not only about David Unaipon but the modern history of the Ngarrindjeri Aboriginal people of the Lower Murray lakes and George Taplin, a Methodist missionary. Entering an Aboriginal settlement can be rather daunting especially when you are unsure of what you need to do. From the first, we found a clean, well kept town and driving slowly through we recognised the church on the fifty dollar note before stopping at the general store to enquire about protocol. The shop too was a pleasant change – spacious, clean and more of a cafe. The Aboriginal man behind the counter was busy preparing a take away coffee for someone who’d left money on the counter – as he turned to find Lea waiting, his pleasant greeting instantly put her at ease and he explained we were welcome to walk around but he doubted any pamphlets existed to help us learn more on David Unaipon. At that point the coffee man returned to collect his order and thanks to him, an enlightening visit was set in motion. Steve Sumner came out of the Council office with keys and happily answered our thousand questions. He even presented us with a book by Graham Jenkin - ‘Conquest of the Ngarrindjeri’ [Imagine our stunned amazement when we opened the book in the caravan to have the name Roger Howman jump out in the preface with his quote “a healthy community needs its past... the sense of identity with forebears and traditions – just as much as it needs the experience of the present and the aspirations of the future.”. Is it plausible the words of Lea’s Dad, a man from Africa whose life work in Community Development reached here?]

Ngarrindjeri People, of whom David Unaipon belonged, are a proud tribe whose habitation and governance of the Lower Murray region stretches back thousands of years until  unknowingly dispossessed when the British Government passed an act in 1834 declaring South Australia to be “waste and unoccupied’ land. The influences of Aborigines’ Friends’ Association founding Port McLeay mission and establishing it on the traditional Ngarrindjeri campsite known as Raukkan; employing the first missionary George Taplin was to have far reaching results. This Methodist priest arrived to set up the Point McLeay Mission in 1859 earning the everlasting respect of the Ngarrindjeri People with positive effects on the Ngarrindjeri clan’s destiny over 20 years. He directed the school to be built first. 

 In 1869, this chapel which also features on the bank-note was built under Rev George’s direction.

The Australian Government took control of Point McLeay in 1916 subjugating it to their will and despite many efforts, control was not handed back to the Ngarrindjeri Community until 1974. Beginning with the name of our camp at Long Point we noticed this and the names of roads within Raukkan were all named after those earliest modern day Aborigines who’d lived at Raukkan / Point McLeay. As white people placed undue pressures upon Aborigines so Raukkan became a refuge for the Ngarrindjeri people.

David Unaipon (David Nguraitponi) the first Aboriginal person to feature on an Australian bank note was born in September 1872 on the banks of the Murray River.  He went to school and lived much of his life in Raukkan (Point McLeay). He was a scientist, Inventor, Lay-preacher and musician who dedicated himself to advancing the rights of Aboriginal people - ”In my despairing moments Providence has enabled me to take heart again and continue my advocacy of the rights of Aborigines to occupy a more worthy place in the life of a nation”. His contributions to Australian society helped to break many indigenous Australian stereotypes and in commemoration he appears on the fifty dollar note.

For Ngarrindjeri descendants there is so much to be proud of in Raukkan and we left there with a most favourable impression.    

With the 72 hour limit on camping in lovely Jetty Reserve up, we crossed The Narrows on the ferry. George didn’t think it necessary to switch off the engine for the short haul across. Imagine the shock horror when the ferry lady screamed “You’re rolling”! Totally unaware he’d taken his foot off the break SKV had rolled forward a good metre before the shriek had alerted us to the close proximity of the lightweight barrier and the river below well before reaching the other side. All’s well that ends well! On arrival at another ferry taking us into Wellington, George made sure to put on the hand brake. Wellington is located at the junction where Murray the River spreads inconspicuously into Lake Alexandrina and it was here, the first South Australian ferry was established in 1846. The first bridge to span the Murray occurred in 1879 in the town of Murray Bridge! We’d decided on Wellington caravan park as we needed to refill our water tanks and enjoy a good shower and hair wash.  Thwarted! The water was not potable.  Fortunately we found water in a Service Station as we journeyed up the eastern side of the Murray River to a ticked site in Camps Australia 6 – Purnong Reserve. With a temperature of 37 we were dismayed by this barren and shade less camp beside the ferry. The ferryman told us it was better on the other side.  There in the Caurnamont Reserve, we settled within a narrow area alongside the river in the semi shade of River Red Gums. A thick band of Weeping Willows obstructed our vision of the water nevertheless we were aware of the boat traffic thanks to loud blasts from houseboats approaching the ferry lane. Power boats and skiers also roared around upstream so it wasn’t the most peaceful of places on a hot afternoon.

 

George was happy to seek respite by wallowing in the shallows of this murky brown river.

 We pulled into Mannum next morning specially to check moorings for a houseboat before booking a table in a waterfront hotel on Saxon’s behalf. We recrossed the Murray by ferry in Mannum and found ourselves a pleasant site in Bolto Reserve amongst River Red Gums and a lawned riverbank directly opposite The Pretoria Hotel. A week to the day we’ll be moored there! The last leg of this loop took us back to Murray Bridge and the Long Island Marina and caravan park. We prepared for the arrival of Saxon, Paul, Talia and Erin. The Gee clan were meeting up in Adelaide and being transported to Murray Bridge in readiness for the 40^th Celebration week aboard First Edition.  

BLISS is feeding and sleeping our Perth family overnight on our campsite in the Long Island Marina Caravan Park.

Monday 13 January with the temperature climbing into severe realms we rushed around the supermarket buying in the food for 12 in readiness for the 2.30 p.m. boarding... Carting everything aboard in 42’C heat was B-A-D! So bad, we couldn’t face a team photo on departure. That came later...          

 

From left: Saxon, George, Lea, Alan, Sam, Breanna, Kay, Aaron and Shane with Erin, Talia and Paul behind.

 

Outer views of ‘First Edition’ along with one of many sightings of the paddle-steamer MV Murray Princess.  George took a turn at the wheel to give Shane Redhead, our very able Skipper a break; while Paul and his Dad decide where we should moor up next.  

First Edition was a lovely spacious 12 berth boat – each cabin en suite and upon the roof, a spa bath with canopy to give shade. In those extreme temperatures unless you sought cool in the spa the dry hot wind made it too fearsome to sit up on the hot roof. The air conditioner ‘died’ our first night and, despite trying everything to remedy it next day as temperatures soared to 47 we were forced to moor in a reserve and await an electrician. Even the boat inverter couldn’t cope and we were awoken to alarms each night as power cut out. Summer heat brings added danger – Fire! We were horrified to hear on the late night news that fires were sweeping through an area 6-10 km from Paul and Saxon’s home in Maida Vale. Thankfully, the winds fuelling the flames took it in the opposite direction. Two lives lost and fifty homes destroyed understandably had us twitchy when smoke was sighted billowing not far off from the Murray River, the following evening. Our proximity to the fire became all the more real when Country Fire Service advised all the mobiles on board First Edition of a bush fire burning near Rockleigh “to take shelter now and listen to ABC radio”. Aside from the bemusement of falling within a danger zone we felt a measure of protection thanks to the alert. We were safely moored on the opposite bank to the fire. From top deck we watched through an orange glow of smoke as the flames raced ahead and helicopters dropped water bombs in an effort to extinguish them. Again, luck was with us as winds fanned the flames up river and swirling smoke simply blocked the sunset, adding an ethereal atmosphere to the river as it drifted around causing us minimum discomfort aboard.  Considering all the little problems encountered we were, nevertheless, in the best place when it came to a heat wave of that magnitude.

Talia did a roaring trade of foot massage while Erin did hairstyles! Redhead and Gee families made whoopee in the river. Father and daughter kayaked; granny lowered her core temperature with feet in a bucket of cold water reading ‘The Poisonwood Bible’!

Joint family time is precious – we have been more than fortunate to enjoy many Ramsden/ Begg occasions over extended periods of contact. This was our first opportunity to enjoy a week of close proximity between the Gee/ Begg families.

Music bonded as we all relaxed and recharged on the houseboat.

Each evening the talented Redhead children added to the entertainment with concerts. Breanna wowed us with her singing voice and she arranged dancing shows with her little cousins Talia and Erin. As for Aaron, besides his guitar, his sheer wizardry at magic kept us all enthralled; especially when he honed in on George’s scepticism and confounded him even more. Aaron was excellent!

We became accustomed to the naturally turbid waters of the Murray River in the spa and discovered it was a good place for quality time with our daughter. 

We’d been made aware of the Sounds of the River Festival being held in Mannum with 4,000 people expected to descend upon the very town in which we required an overnight mooring. Anxious not to have our plans disrupted we decided to hang around the outskirts of Mannum and make a beeline for one of the very few central 24 hour mooring sites. Concern rose when numerous houseboats began encroaching - nosing into awkward bush sites surrounding us that evening. We were left to wonder if they had the same intentions. We had gathered together on First Edition especially to celebrate Paul’s 40^th Birthday and we were loath to see well laid plans go awry... No fret it all came together superbly with a mooring below the bowling green next door to the party venue – Pretoria Hotel.

No sooner than settled for the celebration dinner in the beautifully air conditioned Pretoria Hotel overlooking the Murray River than out of the blue, came a forceful wind sending ski boats and pelicans scuttling for shelter. We were glad to be indoors as unexpected mayhem reigned: boats rocked about; branches cracked away from trees; leaves hurtled everywhere.  Luckily, the main course was over when a man arrived at Saxon’s shoulder and advised her kayaks had blown off! (She’d fortunately greeted him in the houseboat next to us and mentioned we were seeking refuge from the heat in the hotel enabling him to locate her with ease!) Dinner was disrupted as Shane, George and Aaron rushed off to rescue the hired kayaks. Paul begged off the traditional birthday cake ceremony in such a public place and with that we retired to the houseboat with the cake to end the evening in fine style, jamming.

The kayaks hadn’t escaped downriver, luckily they were still restrained when the wind had lifted them off the back of the houseboat and they had merely rattled and slammed against the houseboats lined up beside us.  Interestingly, there was a time when the Lower Murray was tidally influenced. Since construction of the barrages this no longer occurs. Nevertheless, wind, especially south-westerly winds still have the same effect on the river. Generally speaking, winds blowing upstream cause river levels to rise whereas, when blowing downstream, the reverse occurs. Wind driven changes in river level (technically known as seiche movements) can vary as much as 30cm in 24 hours and, as we found out, this often results in moored houseboats becoming stranded on the river bank during the course of the night when the prevailing winds normally ease. Next morning our bow was stranded high and dry on the landing! Not only had the neighbours helped retie the mooring lines the previous evening they were back to help give weight to the stern in dislodging our boat! All these friendly overtures lead to the discovery that none of houseboats planned to adhere to council regulation of 24 hours unless they were moved off. First Edition’s crew delightedly followed suit! 

Mannum is the homeport to the Murray River’s largest stern wheeler tourist liner - Murray Princess and it was the birthplace to the Murray steamboat trade with a beautiful riverfront to the town itself. Along from our mooring, the Mary Ann Reserve stretched with playground, boat ramp and picnic tables beneath the River Red Gums. At the southern end an enclosure of security fences was rapidly being put in place in readiness for the annual Sounds of the River Festival beginning that afternoon. The attractive main street, full of interest and bits of history was directly up out of the river’s harm, behind the green – plenty for everyone to do what they fancied throughout the course of the day. Alan and Kay arranged a game of Bowls – probably off putting when their grandchildren watched from top deck and called ‘go gran go’!  A steady influx of people, with deckchairs and picnics grew as the concert hour approached. Sold Out performance had people happy to park them-selves on the lawn to listen; just as we planned to do from the houseboat. Suzi Quatro was top billing along with  many other supporting groups – yet no ‘bells rang’ for the likes of us. As the afternoon wore on and well into the evening, not much of the music even appealed as we listened. A passer-by offered Paul their spare $90 ticket and he was off like a long dog to listen to The Angels – the ‘curtain raiser’ to Suzi! The crowd went wild and we realised this band had a big following especially amongst the bikie fraternity. The crowd became wilder still when Suzi Quatro took to the stage and the sheer excitement radiating downstream was enough to draw Kay, Sam, Shane and Lea towards the entrance gates. Kay and Sam sauntered straight in... Security men were enough to have Lea turn tail until Shane saw how easily mother and daughter had entered. Together, we took after them and made our way towards the stage. Growing up in Rhodesia – Rock star live shows had been virtually non-existent hence for Lea, this was an electrifying experience even without recollection of Suzi Quatro’s music until she belted out her 1978 hit: If you can’t give me love. 

Adrenalin high it was hard to come down at the end of the night!     

The penultimate day had arrived and mindful that we had to dock our houseboat before 10 a.m the next day we motored the 5 knots per hour back towards Murray Bridge some eight hours away in river travel. Despite being a busy river at this time of year we enjoyed peaceful stretches of natural bushland and scenic cliffs. We refused to spend our last night where we’d begun our first, in the Avoca Dell Reserve; being a Sunday it was alive with day trippers and the waterway around there hummed with motor boats towing skiers, wakeboards or tyres. We were all watching this busy section as we passed by on the far side of the river until horrifyingly jolted by a speedboat cutting across our bow, avoiding collision with our boat by a hairs breath. Seeing a rope dragging behind – eyes swept to the side and Kay’s anguished cry of ‘there’s children’ sent a sickening shock through our systems as Paul baled over the safety railing into the river and Shane cut the engines. Mercifully all was well. The young girl, in grabbing the bottom rail to stop from going under the houseboat only suffered minor abrasions to her arms. The 9 year old boy had toppled out on the far side of the tube. The boyfriend had allowed his 7 year old daughter to steer the boat while he attended to something within the speedboat! Immediate after the drama, rope had entangled  the engine and the trio aboard drifted away leaving us to wonder what was going on as we rendered aid to the poor victims – all of us suffering a mixture of shock and anger. In time they returned to our stern with no word of apology as Lauren and Noah climbed back into the speedboat watched by the grandmother and little girl. It could so easily have been a tragedy that we reported the incident on arrival back at Long Island Marina next morning. River Police were called with Shane and Paul, the witnesses.

Less than an hour away from Long Island Marina we spent our last night tied up alongside one of the smaller limestone cliffs that characterise the lower reaches of the Murray River and toasted Skipper Shane  and Saxon the organizer for a most enjoyable trip. We highly recommend houseboating the Murray - enough to seriously consider buying our own houseboat (on a smaller scale) to wander the mighty Murray River at will – watch this space!

As with all good things coming to an end – the Gee clan went one way and we sorted the laundry and attended an emergency dental appointment in Murray Bridge before making the decision to go to the southern end of the Coorong. Looking at the map we were drawn down the Dukes Highway to visit Kiki and Keith first!

 Lured there because we have a granddaughter named Kiki and a son, Keith!

If we’d blinked we’d have missed Kiki as there was only a tiny community hall and a scrap wire art gallery selling coffee for a dollar! We found Keith at the junction of the Duke and Riddoch highways and very fittingly, we discovered an old Land rover on a pole in the Lions Park; This Land rover, pole and chain was The Desert Conquest Memorial signifying an AMP Insurance Company funded land clearing and development scheme back in 1950 which led to Keith and district becoming the largest Lucerne seed growing area in the southern hemisphere. We stopped for lunch in Keith’s Soldier Memorial Park and spotted another memorial to a motorbike rider – Andy Caldecott, an off road motorcycle racer, born in Keith. He won the Australian Safari Rally four times and was a competitor in the Dakar Rally in 2004, 2005 and 2006. Sadly, after winning the third stage in 2006 he was fatally injured in the ninth stage.  It never ceases to amaze us how one thing leads to another – no wonder we are thoroughly hooked on travel!

A direction, taken all thanks to names, had us stumble across a series of steadily unfolding attractions... The artwork of Black Cockatoo Bush Camp caught our attention as we rumbled down the highway and we decided to give it a try as our overnight stop. Perfect and peaceful with a lovely heritage woodland walk on Ken and Elizabeth Yelland’s Albert Park farm. In turn, a dusty brochure there led us on to Naracoorte Caves National Park. We generally by-pass caves having seen many but these were a World Heritage fossil site. George most keen to see the marsupial lion! Despite concessions it was expensive as each cave was a separate tour and a separate price. The ranger helped us make up our mind – Victoria Fossil Cave before allowing us a quick look through the Wonambi Fossil Centre before our tour began. In there we found a re-creation of the ancient world of Australia’s long extinct mega-fauna in simulated forest and swamp land, something many have little appreciation of.

 

Intriguing! Especially the ossuary- a grave yard of mega-fauna skeletons discovered in 1970, assumed to have accumulated on the floor of a sink hole into which they had fallen some 50,000 years ago.   

With Coorong our destination in mind –disappointingly we didn’t return to the town of Naracoorte simply continued on to Penola thoroughly enjoying the scenery that reminded us of Kangaroo Island with even bigger trees arching over the road as open golden land or green Lucerne fields extended beyond. Unexpected chain saw sculptures appeared close to the road and we pulled up and entered the enclosure and discovered Father Woods. Born in London, this eminent scientist, devoted priest and founder of religious orders spent over 30 years in Australia before dying in Sydney aged 56 in 1889.  Father Julian Tenison Woods spent ten years as parish priest covering 56,000 square km in the South Eastern district of South Australia. Regularly stopping-over during his parish travels at the original Limestone Ridge Station, he’d be found in meditation, preparing sermons or celebrating mass below a towering red gum here. It became known as Father Woods Tree.        

 

In time, this bit of land was donated to the Archdiocese of Adelaide as a memorial in recognition of Father Wood. In 2010 the Archbishop blessed these sculptures and rededicated the park as a place of pilgrimage, prayer and contemplation.

Furthermore Father Woods impacted on Mary MacKillop, changing the direction of her life. More recently, she became Australia’s first Catholic Saint – St Mary of the Cross. 

As is well known, we are not wine drinkers and have driven through popular wine locations without turning much of an eye to them. However, approaching Penola through attractive and widespread vineyards; recognising labels - particularly Penfolds and Coonawarra, we were amazed that this lovely area within ‘our’ parameters was not up there with such names as the Barossa, Clare, Hunter and Margaret River that we overhear being bandied about so regularly.  We stopped at the Penola VIC to pick up information on the Limestone Coast, discovering not only was this Australia’s red wine centre; the Mary MacKillop Interpretive Centre was to be found in town. Sadly, there was barely an hour left to it’s opening hours and we had to give it a miss.  Lea began to regret that more deeply as the kilometres clicked over in our westward travels as she read up on Mary and Father Woods and briefly learned Mary came to Penola in 1860 as a governess to her Aunt and Uncle. As well as educating her wealthy cousins she taught a station-worker’s young daughter and an Aboriginal woman to read and write (this touched a chord as it was the same trigger that set Lea off to become a teacher). In Penola, Mary met Father Woods and both, recognising the desperate need to provide good secular Catholic education to isolated, poor rural children; put together an   idea of co-founding a unique Australia Order.  Their idea was kept alive by letters as Mary gained valuable teaching experience in Catholic education. Their dream steadily materialised into the Sisters of St Joseph of the Sacred Heart where Mary took her vows.  During her lifetime, her order opened schools throughout Australia and New Zealand and Sisters of St Joseph have spread education and social welfare to other parts of the world too.  

We headed for a bush camp in a small coastal village, Southend, for a night until the realisation of a long weekend made us decide to enjoy our well situated and pretty bush camp for the full duration of the Australia Day weekend. Wonderful walks in coastal splendour; Australian Open tennis finals on TV – we were delighted! 

Southend, located at the eastern end of sweeping Rivoli Bay and the gateway to the Canunda National Park is a well kept secret place!

The next heat wave on its way we departed for Beachport at the other end of Rivoli Bay and found an old fashioned looking seaside resort emptying rapidly as the long weekend and summer school holidays came to an end, simultaneously.  Two huge caravan parks stood testimony to how popular this place is. Before deciding which park to use we took the Bowman Scenic Drive.

Unspoilt natural beauty and wonderful views galore...

A shady site with sea breeze attracted us into the caravan park closest to the jetty in magnificent Rivoli Bay looking like a huge curly C (phonetically spoken please!) We sure are being distracted from arriving in the Southern Coorong by the scenery along this south eastern coastline!   In slightly cooler late evening, we took a walk along the beach and out along the 772 metre jetty and explored the precinct with its old buildings.

The L-O-N-G jetty dating back to the early 1830’s when Beachport was one of South Australia’s important Southern Ports. Many renovations later there are only a few original bits left to the jetty.

A birthday dawned with early warnings of the scorcher coming for the rest of the day. George thought we should rest up but ‘curiosity got the better’ and we moved on west stopping at the Woakwine Cutting 12 km north of Beachport with 39’C registering at 9 a.m.

Although George cursed the glorifying of a cutting by draining 420 hectares of peat swamp, he couldn’t help admiring the effort taken to do so!

In the 1880’s the McCourt family moved into the Woakwine area and soon realised living on the land out there was going to be difficult to almost impossible. It was not until 1957 that Murray McCourt decided in Australian inimitable ways, to ‘have a go’ at constructing a channel from his swamp lands through the Woakwine range (an old consolidated sand dune) to Lake George. The cutting is a huge engineering feat for its time and a remarkable example of how land was drained making the area efficient and agriculturally sustainable. Ecologically, the idea ‘wetlands were waste lands’ that reigned back then has long since been turned on its head!  

Many kilometres were to click over on a scorcher of a day, made all the more uncomfortable by a hot wind buffeting the rig with little to capture our attention enough to settle. Robe was lovely, another in the group of historical Southern Ports and we enjoyed walking along notoriously windy Guichen Bay to the carefully protected harbour. It seemed too early to halt there though - bad move! Cape Jaffa didn’t match up to brochures and in Kingston SE, home of the big lobster- we mulled over staying in the caravan park a lengthy time before moving on. Before we knew the landscape had radically changed and we were in the southern Coorong.  The very area we had marked as priority fast became a disappointment! Largely, the heat played a part but the southern lagoon was very shallow and rapidly drying with wide expanses of shoreline exposed. We stopped at Jack Point and walked out to the Pelican Breeding observatory but the protected breeding islands were too far off even with binoculars. Again, as in the northern Coorong, wind was relentless and sensible pelicans in hiding.  We couldn’t wait to reach Coorong Wilderness Lodge and entered its fancy gateway with high hopes. The corrugations should have told us something – the let down even worse as we came upon a barren unforgiving and neglected place all closed up. So much for thoughts of hiring a kayak to experience shallow lagoons and abundant wildlife over a couple of days! The hot winds blasted us back to the highway and we ended up in Meningie feeling very hot and bothered. George tired of fighting the strong wind gusting across the road was not prepared to go another 40km to free camp in our favourite Reserve at Narrung. Lake Albert and a cold smoked salmon salad became a good combination to end the day.  

Wellington’s ferry was about to have maintenance done forcing us to continue on to Tailem Bend’s ferry for a crossing to the western side of the Murray (kid-like- we find ferries such a treat) before our travels took us back to the northern shores of Lake Alexandrina and on to  Langhorne Creek. Frank Potts Reserve provided us with free camping in a delightfully shady setting under River Red Gums with vineyards stretching out in all directions. TV and mobile reception made it a perfect place to see out the last days of January as the onset of another severe heatwave descended.