Australia 1988

Thursday 14 July — Gliding at Northam

And so I was. I filled in the morning while waiting for the tour to arrive in the Landcruiser, by wandering around the streets near the hostel, ending up killing the last half hour in the Beaufort Hotel. The tour arrived, nice to see them again, they’d not had any real excitement since we parted at Pemberton.

A fairly boring drive out to Northam, the airfield is just the other side. Gravel strip, Piper tow-plane with passenger seat behind the pilot, Steve. Bob flies the glider with the passenger in front, with an excellent view forward through the perspex. I got a quick lesson in attaching the cable and signalling to Steve to take up the slack, so that I could act as ground crew for Gary’s flight.

I went up third. Astonishing stuff. I think it was much smoother and it felt much safer than flying in a small powered plane. I had some bother dividing my attention between the pure thrill of flying and the taking of photographs. Occasionally, the G-forces frustrated the pointing of the camera. Definitely much better than horse riding.

Some “mild aerobatics” were enough for me but Anna, who went up fifth, asked for a loop and got it. Andy, who had gone up fourth, had to go again for a loop and a spin. The G-force had been bad enough on tight turns, it must be something awful coming out of the spin.

A couple of beers in the Shamrock Hotel, the local Avon Ale, the pilots drank Guinness, then back through the rain to Perth, past the truckers’ blockade at Greenmount. Round to the hotel for a few beers after a fish supper which was better than I remember the last one from that shop.

Friday 15 July — Perth

Time for some shopping before the trip, four packets of Condor and four films. Then into British Airways and booked flights from Hong Kong to New Delhi to London, arriving 1355 on August 22. I wonder will I go north by train or shuttle. A few beers here and there, bought a postpak and sent it off, including three un-processed films. A few more beers in the Court (with Kiwi barmaid) then a quiet evening in the hostel.

Anna went off this morning on the Monkey Mia trip, along with another lass Fiona McLeod that I’d met at Albany, Monika had vanished, Akitoshi had gone to Singapore, Andy borrowed a teabag, the bunch of Poms from Pemberton turned up. All in all, a sociable stay.

Saturday 16 July — Heading north

Lots of comings and goings late at night. I got up at half past six, packed and left before seven. Down to the bus station, no-one else in sight, but they soon started appearing in dribs and drabs. The vehicle appeared at five to eight, an eight seater Toyota Landcruiser which was a bit awkward as there were eight passengers plus the organiser and the driver. They worked out that they had lost a couple of bookings so we went to their base to get a Nissan Patrol as well.

Geoff, the organiser, had just got his leg out of plaster after five weeks following a snapped Achilles tendon playing squash, felt that he couldn’t manage the Landcruiser but could manage the Patrol which belongs to Murray who came along to drive the Landcruiser. His wife was on her way home in it but spotted us going the wrong way and turned round.

Two girls, Lesley from the south of England and Gabbi from Munich were on the last tour and had come back on this one to do the cooking, presumably getting a cheap trip. And six real tourists, Wendy from Remuera, a word processor operator with a legal firm here on two months holiday, Isobel from Bury-St-Edmunds, some sort of secretarial/clerical worker here for a year, Hilary from Dublin, a physiotherapist, been working in Perth for a couple of years after a spell in Iraq, Taka from north east Japan, a student on a year’s sabbatical, Steve from Bradford I think, an extraction chemist, just finished a couple of years working at Murdoch University in Perth, and me.

Off on the road north, stopping for morning tea at Peter’s? Ford, well under water, then lunch at Waddi Wildflower and Emu Farm, the wildflowers all dried and in the shop but some real and inquisitive emus in a paddock. It is not easy to photograph an emu while it is trying to eat the camera. Afternoon tea after visiting Greenough Village, preserved by the National Trust of Western Australia, quite boring.

To Lucky Bay to camp for the night, got lost and stuck in the sand dunes, despite the four wheel drive, before finding the right spot in the dark. The tents were the same as the one at Yulara, Hilary, Wendy and Isobel in one, Lesley and Gabbi in another, Taka, Steve and myself in the third. Geoff and Murray slept in the trailer which was towed behind the Landcruiser and opened out to form the kitchen.

Sunday 17 July — Further north up the coast

Mainly overcast this morning, even a couple of showers while I was walking in the sand-dunes in preference to swimming. Four prawn boats in the lagoon, plus Peter the Pelican. Talked to one of the fishermen out for his morning jog. Lives in Geraldton but fishes out of New Gregory for four or five days at a stretch.

We drove out of the dunes, stopping to drive down the very steep face of a dune we hadn’t quite gone over last night, thank goodness. On towards Kalbarri, stopping to admire some cliffs and a hole in the rock. I started a wallaby and tried to drive it towards the others but it had other ideas. Red Bluff for lunch, the rocks are red. Nearby, a memorial to mark the spot where a couple of mutinous Dutch sailors were marooned a long time ago, thus becoming the first white permanent residents in Australia. No trace of them has ever been found.

To Kalbarri in daylight, set up camp at a caravan park, then after a fair amount of shillying and shallying, we repaired to the local tavern where a fair amount of alcoholic beverage was consumed, at least by some in the party (i.e. Steve and myself). There we met the YHA Monkey Mia trip now on their way back to Perth. They had been canoeing that afternoon and were camping at another caravan park. They warned us about impending bad weather, a gale warning even.

It had rained while we were in the pub but was fine as we walked back to camp with a few tinnies for a nightcap. We did what we could to secure the tents before turning in, wondering what the night might have in store for us.

Monday 18 July — A brief excursion inland

The estuary at Kalbarri

And the answer was - nothing. Calm and peaceful. But we found out later that Perth had taken a bit of a battering. First thing to do was to find a garage to fix the weld on the trailer spring that had broken yesterday.

Then off, inland a bit up the Murchison River to a place known as the Z-Bend, where the river runs in a deep gorge. Geoff started a ridiculous route down into the gorge but I soon gave it up and worked across to what turned out to be the official route. Most of the others had done the same before they reached the bottom. The contrast between light and shade made photography difficult but we’ll see how it turns out.

Then on, up to rejoin the main highway and stop for lunch beside a more peaceful stretch of the Murchison. From there it was a long tedious drive to the Overland Roadhouse where we turned left for the peninsula, with a brief stop to see the stromatolites?, a “living fossil”, seemed more like a muddy fungus or moss, I think I’ve seen the dead version in Orkney.

Just before Denham, we turned right for Monkey Mia, where there is a caravan/camping site and some tame-ish dolphins which come inshore to play with people and accept gifts of fish. We arrived at dusk and left the dolphins for the morrow. The caravan park was fairly full and we were stuck on sand at the far end from the dolphins. If it is that busy at this time of year, it must be ridiculous in the summer.

It was difficult to anchor the tents properly in the sand which became a cause for some concern as the breeze got up through the evening. We were quite late turning in after burning a fair amount of green wood. The firewood supply was scant and some people were tempted to pull bits off bushes which turned out to be not quite dead, and the evidence had to be destroyed. The tents were flapping a fair bit but the bodies inside should help to anchor them.

Tuesday 19 July — Monkey Mia to Carnarvon

We survived the night, tents still standing. I think in the end I was battered into sleep by the flapping canvas. I got up at seven but no-one else did. Wandered around a bit but hadn’t reached the dolphins before I decided that I needed tea and returned. Washed up the debris from last night and had most of my breakfast before the others got going.

Walked along to see the dolphins, yes, well, very nice, both of them, but the water was cold and the stiff breeze would have fairly cut a wet body so I stayed dry. Back to finish loading, walked up the sand-dune behind the camp, another look at the dolphins on the way out.

Into Denham for supplies, straight into the pub for a couple of cold beers and a couple of cases plus wine and port to go. Headed back towards the overland, stopping this time at Shell Beach, no sand, just small white shells, walked about 150 yards out, still less then knee deep.

More fuel at the Overland then on up the road to lunch beside a dry river. On to Carnarvon, old satellite tracking station, brief visit to a banana plantation, then drove to a river mouth just north of the town for some beach fishing which I ignored and they didn’t catch anything anyway, then a short distance back upstream to the mangroves to camp.

Shifted a few beers, some folk had already retired when Geoff decided to take the boat and go fishing with spear and gas-light. I stayed on shore and fed the fire till they got back. They’d only caught one small mud-crab and let that go. They’d also damaged the gas-light. No firewood left so I retired leaving them to the booze.

Wednesday 20 July — Carnarvon to Coral Bay

Seven o’clock start, reasonably quick getting under way. First stop the Bibbawarra Bore, drilled 1905 looking for coal, found scalding hot water at 3000 feet, still flowing, not used for anything. Into Carnarvon for a look around the town and shopping. Skipped the blowholes, sea calm, and headed straight for Coral Bay, stopping briefly to photograph a termite mound.

On arrival, Geoff suggested lunch on the beach and a swim before setting up camp but the troops rebelled, led by Hilary, and we set up camp first, the girls did some laundry including some of my T-shirts, then we went to the beach. Geoff offered scuba lessons but I stuck to snorkelling, I’ll try to get used to that before going any deeper.

After a shower, I went along to the hotel, the others turned up several beers later. Then back for baked snapper on the barbie and baked potatoes. While in the toilet, exchanged pleasantries with a man who came out from Motherwell forty years ago and has no intention of going back. The cooks went back to the hotel but I thought it closed at ten and opted for more tinnies instead. Don’t know when the pub did close but the others came back late. Hilary and I ganged up on the non-Celts. When finally I got around to going to bed, all the others had vanished and so had my sleeping bag so I spent the night under a ground-sheet and a heavy dew.

Thursday 21 July — Yardie Creek

Everyone was a bit subdued this morning, obviously I wasn’t the only one who drank too much last night. Some went swimming again, but not me. No-one went for the glass-bottomed boat trip so we hit the road at ten rather than eleven. Drove back to the main road and followed that for a bit before returning to the coast track, saving time at the expense of distance.

Into the Cape Range National Park to camp at Yardie Creek. Most of the others went swimming but I loitered in the shade, tried to catch up a bit on this, and went for a walk. Then an evening boat trip up the Creek through the gorge as far as the water depth allowed. Got another fairly close kangaroo. The second boat-load had lost the best of the light.

Crayfish for tea , picked off the reef this afternoon. No fires allowed. Most folk slept out on the beach.

Friday 22 July — Cape Range National Park

We followed the park road north from Yardie Creek, stopping briefly at the lighthouse. Steve couldn’t find his camera bag, I couldn’t find my shoes. We continued to Exmouth for shopping, beers and a thorough search, which was unsuccessful. Shoes are easily replaced but Steve had a good collection of camera gear so Geoff decided to go back in the Patrol with Steve while the rest of us continued in the Landcruiser, up a side road into the Range to view some canyons and have lunch.

Back to the bottom of the Gulf and across to rejoin the main coastal highway, passing a couple of cyclists with a trailer by the roadside. Brief stop at the Barradale Roadhouse where they have wallabies in a cage then on the Nanutarra Roadhouse to camp by the Ashburton River. Set up camp as best we could without the tents. The others were two hours behind us, well after dark and I had to wait till then for a shower as my toilet bag and towel were in the Patrol. They had recovered the camera bag and my shoes, lying together beside where the Landcruiser had been parked. They also brought some firewood which was very welcome as the number of campers had denuded the area along the river.

In the end we didn’t put the tents up, just slept out on the ground. Hilary and Isobel decided to sleep in the Landcruiser but Hilary, in the front seat, gave it up in the middle of the night and moved out onto the ground.

Saturday 23 July — Into the Hammersley Ranges

Soon left the main road and headed inland for a long slog on dirt roads into Tom Price. I was sweltering in the truck but every time the air conditioning got the temperature down to a reasonable level, Wendy complained of the cold. At Tom Price, we changed seats and I got the cool one. Saw a Hammersley Iron train, three locos on front of 215 ore wagons with three more locos on the rear.

Drove over the company road - Private - Keep Out - into the Hammersley Ranges. Identified the camp site - for tour operators only - then drove to view some gorges. Some of the others decided to descend into a gorge but I sat in the shade.

Back to set up camp. Taka sawed lumps off a log nearby so we had the first solid wood fire of the trip, previous ones having all been broken branches. Only put up one tent at first, but later the other two went up also. I was going to sleep out but the organisers looked set for a late session so I retired to the tent.

Sunday 24 July — Hammersley Ranges

Not much travelling today, just to move the camp a few miles, but some of us were up and doing early though the others didn’t get up for another hour. We had breakfast, packed the camp and left a large log smouldering on top of the sanded ashes.

Then off to the lookout above Weano (not to be confused with Beano, which is something entirely different) Gorge to find it crowded, even some tables spread with white cloths (but no food) at the car park. They turned out to be a film crew making a video for a pop group from Dunfermline, apparently called Big Country.

We went off to descend into the gorge itself. An interesting little trip, in three stages, the first dry and reasonably level, the second a bit more of a scramble with occasional water hazards and the third, bone dry but vertical. I decided to give up at the top of the third stage, but Murray and Taka continued so I had to follow and managed to get down in one piece.

There was a sign at the start of the second stage warning of the increased difficulty of the route, but I did not see the one at the top of the third stage saying “experienced climbers with ropes only beyond this point”. Still, it was good to get right into the bottom of the canyon. A pity I had left my camera at the start of stage two but if I hadn’t, it would have got wet.

Next, we went across to set up camp near Fortescue Falls, then spent the afternoon doing our own things. I found a cameraman at the Falls taking time-lapse photographs of shadows crossing the rock face for the Big Country video. I walked down from the Falls, round to the Circular Pool then up to the Dales Gorge Lookout.

Back at camp, the fireplace had disappeared. A fire ban had been declared, we thought it might have had some connection with this morning’s smouldering log. We sat around a fluorescent tube for the evening.

Monday 25 July — Newman

Geoff, Lesley and Gabbi went off to sus out some other gorges for future tours while the rest of us went off to see the remains of an old asbestos mine and then the long slog to Newman for lunch and a three o’clock tour of the open cast mine. Mount Newman is a large lump of iron ore sticking out of the plain and the Mt Newman Mining Company is dedicated to removing it. The town exists to service the mine.

After the mine tour, I said goodbye to the group and booked into the only hotel in town, the Overland Motel, at an exorbitant price, so I spent a long time in the shower, washed as many clothes as I could find space to dry, and watched a lot of TV. The receptionist was unable to provide me with any information on flights out of Newman. (The next bus is Thursday.)

Tuesday 26 July — Capricorn Roadhouse

Out at the roadside before eight, nothing. At half past nine, I decided to go along and try the old road, nothing there either. So, in time, I went back into town for lunch and to make enquiries about flights. There had been a plane to Darwin at eight this morning, next flight would be Thursday morning to Port Hedland. So, back to the roadside.

After a bit, a taxi driver stopped and told me that I was standing in the wrong place, most truckers still used the old road. Also, it was the wrong day, most trucks go north on Mondays. Also, the Capricorn Roadhouse was the best place for hitching and it had accommodation available at a very reasonable price. The only thing she didn’t do was offer to take me there for free.

So, I set off walking again, casually sticking my thumb out whenever I heard a vehicle coming up behind. I hadn’t gone far when a ute stopped and I was offered a lift, only as far as the roadhouse, by a chap with an under-lying Scottish accent, Mike from Cambuslang and Cathkin Braes twenty-three years ago, now the local agent for a multi-national soft drinks firm. At the roadhouse, into the bar to meet another Scottish accent, Margaret from Balloch twenty years ago.

I set about forgetting my sorrows, leave the travelling till tomorrow. When Margaret finished at six, Sandy took over and after a bit, invited me to stay with herself and John overnight. Back to their place at closing time, then helped unload a car off a covered wagon, it had been borrowed in Newman by David to take someone to Nullagine but hadn’t quite got there when he cracked the sump and seized the engine. He stayed the night as well.

I was allocated the best bed but fell asleep on the floor while watching two Billy Connellys, both wearing a black and white check suit.

Wednesday 27 July — Capricorn Roadhouse

Felt fine when I woke up, had some tea and wandered out to the road. No traffic. About ten, the problem was compounded by the arrival of a Japanese hitch-hiker called Mathiuku, also heading for Port Hedland. At about noon, I decided to give it up and get drunk while waiting for the overnight bus. Much more fun.

Mathiuku went off to try his luck in Newman, never to be seen again.

Today’s barmaid was called Colleen. She and David can see auras around people. Apparently I have a nice one. I’ll bet she says that to everyone. After a pleasant afternoon and evening, Rose gave me a lift back to Newman where I made myself comfortable on a bench outside the Greyhound office and dozed off.