The Voyages of Ellida of Laira

Sumba and Independence Day

2011-08-17T22:20:00.000+12:00

After the misfortune of the split tube on Sal Darago's dinghy, and also the failing starter motor on Ellida (which after rewiring operated satisfactorily), we agreed that Sal Darago and Ellida should sail together in the interests of mutual assistance, ‘buddy boats’ is the American expression. Indonesia and in particular this outlying part of the country is not a place to be stranded because help in the form of spares and repairs is simply not available.

We set off for Waingapu on the island of Sumba; 110 miles (which to us equates to a little under 24 hours) and we arrived mid morning to face an awkward harbour entrance. It looked clear enough on the large scale map, but the fine detail was omitted. There is a reef which protects the harbour and Sal Darago, in the lead, had to sail way to the west to find sufficient depth to cross the reef and make their way back to the harbour. We followed and passed a typical rusting and about to crumble marker buoy showing the way in.

The local harbourmaster had shouted to Jeremy as Sal Darago motored in and indicated to him the precise place where he should anchor.

Not quite where he would have chosen, a little too close to a commercial boat for comfort, and necessitating a stern anchor to be added.

We followed and were directed to a spot just 50 metres away, rather better in fact.

First impressions were of a busy bustling harbour with more than its fair share of decaying hulks.

A wharf near Sal Darago had two large vessels tied to, one of which was emitting clouds of dust whilst the other was wonderfully typical of this part of the world and was home to men ,dogs and goats.

The remainder of the inlet close to the town was full of tiny fishing boats, very slender, often with outriggers and most fitted with the familiar single cylinder, hand started Chinese manufactured engine.

Barely had we anchored than we were accosted by a young man who had some English and wished to be our guide. We postponed any decisions at that time, but we would meet him later on the wharf. Our Rally guides had advised us that we have no requirement for paperwork or checking-in at any islands other than the ones they stipulate, so the way seemed clear for us to journey ashore.

Taking the dinghies we found a fairly easy place to get ashore in amongst the tiny fishing boats. We were greeted by several locals and were spotted by our potential guide. We have an agenda; we need water, provisions, laundry and glue for repairing a dinghy. Our guide seemed to think he could help us in those respects, so we agreed terms and set off.

I'm not sure what I expected, but it's bigger than I thought; quite a large town in fact with a population of 53,000.

It is the capital of the Sumba regency and the largest town on the island. We explored the main shopping street, paying special attention to any likely looking chandleries.

Jeremy was unable to find the correct vinyl cement, but I found some large sized Jubilee clips for our exhaust system (the old ones were looking a little corroded).

Of course there were some delightfully ramshackle buildings, also street vendors and marvellously decorated buses to photograph.

The 17th August is Indonesian Independence day and it feels like everyone is at the town stadium.

We made our way to a stepped monument overlooking the main field, an excellent vantage point from which to watch and take photos.

We were surrounded by small children and parents.

Two sides of the field are filled children all in smart school uniform standing in neat lines without any shade as a part of the grand parade.

On the third side of the stadium the VIPs gather under the protection of specially erected marquees with the all important flag pole before them centre stage.

First the speeches. We have been told by Indonesians that their politicians measure the excellence of their speeches more by duration than quality. This has certainly been borne out at the events we have attended - and this was no exception.

The highlight was the 'raising the flag' ceremony, performed with beautifully exaggerated precision by one male and one female soldier. By now several of the children had to be helped as the sun was too much for them. The politicians were fine.

Followed by the parade that everyone had been waiting for.

Military, youth bands, school children and dance troops, all great fun.

There were also greasy pole challenges for the energetic.

Jeremy is nearly two metres tall and proves to be a great attraction with the young people. As an ex-school teacher he has a natural rapport with the young and there is always a clamour to be photographed with him!

Our guide then took us for lunch and a trip to see an Ikan factory. Part of the trip was in a rickshaw powered by pedal-power – a novel way to travel, but a method that is effective and is even used for commercial purposes here. It is hard going on the pedallers though.

At the Ikan workshop we felt there was a bit of slick selling going on. But the items were extremely expensive – hundreds of dollars! And to be frank, we have neither use nor space for such items on the boat. However the skill in preparing and weaving all still done by hand was impressive.

The next day we returned to our first guide and agreed to a minibus trip because his friend has a bus and we could have a charter ride, just the four of us. Waingapu has a beautiful purpose made nightmarket area which was not open , but the construction of the stalls was interesting,

…then on to a splendid street market that was definitely open and we bought provisions.

We then drove out of town to see a traditional village. This one had many wood and straw buildings but some stone (including the last King’s tomb shown below). There was a strong hierarchy in place and we were introduced to the folks that mattered.

A good day out and we said goodbye to our guide and his minibus owning friend.

Time to press on the next island.

Savu – Travels on a Small Island

2011-08-10T09:00:00.000+12:00

Jeremy and Kathy's [Sal Darago] invitation to join them in Savu sounded like a good option - it was only 100 miles or so from Kupang, so we set off for what promised to be an easy sail. In the event it was very pleasant, we had a few hours motoring at first, but after that a gentle sail took us right up to the shores of Savu.

The Sail Indonesia Rally had notified their tourism contacts on any islands that the rally participants might visit and in some cases they had negotiated welcoming ceremonies, guided tours, music and dance performances etc. to be hosted for the visitors. Savu was one such and they were prepared for an invasion.

We arrived at Savu (sometimes called Sawu) at the anchorage off the main town of Seba, having been given very specific instructions over the VHF radio by the harbourmaster Zoltan. He had heavily accented English and spoke it very, very quickly. Throughout our stay there he proved to be an assiduous helper, guardian, interpreter, chaperone and reserve tour guide. In the harbour were:-

Local boats with plenty of crew.

…and those with just family!

Having anchored, launched the dinghy and had quick chat with Sal Darago; we headed for shore. It's a tricky trip as the shoreline shallows quickly and steeply which has the effect of creating good surfing conditions. However, no mishaps and we found our way ashore and meet Zoltan. He wanted a few official papers, but is quite relaxed about waiting until tomorrow for them, so were free to walk.

Seba has a definite 'smile to the face' factor. It is small, ramshackle, throbbing with activity, friendly and hot. Vehicles and pedestrians share the road space without any real demarcation and all the stores are open fronted with tables lining the roadway.

We stuck out like Mormon missionaries on a St. Tropez beach and we were constantly greeted with, "Hello, where are you from?" or "Selamat pagi" (Bahasa Indonesian for good morning). Occasionally someone with a knowledge of English would want to chat and practise their skills.

Making our way through the entire main street we finally reached an office where we found Juli Hina, who was to be one of our main contacts. Julie is young and pretty; she is a local school teacher cum tourist guide and has good English.

She told us a little about her island after which we quizzed her about the local weaving and the 'Ikat' that is worn for dress occasions. Then, as well as a full explanation, Juli disappeared for a couple of minutes and reappeared wearing her 'best' traditional outfit.

Everything was ready for tomorrow, when our programme of events was to begin.

Morning, and we met Juli and John (a local official) at the harbour.

The transport will be here shortly, we are told. Well, not exactly shortly, more '...in a little while'. Perhaps nearer half an hour but it was an interesting place to wait. People carried loads using a yoke, a device rarely seen on 5th Avenue or Bond Street, but very popular here.

The market was only a stone's throw away, it seemed to be a vegetable, fruit and grain market, but we felt we hadn't got time to explore too much as the transport must surely arrive any second.

The transport arrived !

It wasn't quite what we expected as we had seen coaches and minibuses ferrying people to and from from the harbour, but ours was a 10 ton truck, canvas top, open sides, no seats - no, I tell a lie ...there were two, two-seater bare wooden benches bolted to the floor. This promised to be fun!

Fortunately it was only a short ride to the reception. The venue was the beach just a little south of Seba where Captain Cook anchored in 1770. A lot was going on, stands and a podium were being constructed and large numbers of cadets were practising singing. Apparently Independence Day was imminent hence all the activity.

We were taken to our covered shelter on the beach where already costumed dancers and musicians were gathering.

Interesting looking instrument !!

And what a glorious setting. The beach was pristine with just the occasional wooden boat lying temporarily inactive, the sky was blue and the rollers were piling onto the shore. Also we could see Ellida and Sal Darago and therefore knew that that they were safe.

We took our seats on the carpet and the show began. Only photos can describe the scene.

After the dancing we were presented to the senior official of the welcoming party and presented with Ikats.

These are locally woven fabrics that come in several sizes and shapes and are widely worn by locals. After the presentation, the food (it was only half past ten in the morning) comprising rice, meat and soup

...during which a little more music and dance before being shown the art of Ikan manufacture.

We retired to our transport for much longer trip this time.

Covering the ground is a function of distance and terrain. Here the distances are all relatively small, but the terrain gives home to bumpy unmade roads. Our journey took us around the west and north of the island. A largely completed hotel was pointed out, apparently it is just waiting for a water supply to be found, then who knows, Savu may take off as a tourist resort!

We arrived at a village where there are some unusual features to be seen, first a stone with an engraving of a sailing barque of antique design, perhaps several hundred years old, our hosts did not know.

Also around the village were boulders set on plinths. These you might guess have a ritual function.

We were then introduced to a couple of priests, one extremely elderly with gnarled and misshapen toes.

Finally a quick stop at an education establishment for older teenagers. We were given a cheery greeting by the students and shown around the building by the senior lady whom we were told was a descendant of royalty.

The next day we reported as the day before to the harbour and waited the customary time for the truck. All aboard, we set off to see a little more of the island. After only a very short drive, our driver stopped alongside a salt production area, the like of which none of us had seen before.

Sea water was poured into what can only be described as little boats made of leaves, the photo below shows Zoltan holding just one.

For an island of several thousand people however, one needs a large number of such boats. One more shot, to give a more photogenic angle showing off their unique beauty.

I think it was just happenstance, that we met a family whose business was sugar syrup production. John was quick to make their acquaintance and we were allowed to see the process of gathering sugar juice from a type of palm tree. A task performed by young agile men. They had their task made easier by small rocks tied at intervals up the palm trunk acting as steps. The sugary liquid was then boiled and reduced. We bought some sugar cakes in the market next day.

The scenery on the route was arid but gently mountainous and with the backdrop of a clear blue sky and deeper blue sea it was very photogenic.

John wanted to show us a village which was constructed on a hill.

The buildings at the top have a sacred significance and life in the village was lived along very traditional lines. There was a head man, a group of elders and holy men. All was peaceful and neat, grains were laid on mats to dry and Ikats being woven.

We were guided to the hill top and introduced to the head man who was proud to adopt his unique stance atop a boulder and be photographed.

I have also shown a picture of him laughing heartily, his toothy grin shows the tell-tale red stains of betel nut, which is very popular here. Not with me I should add. I tried some but it is so very bitter and has an after taste that lasts for hours.

The view from the hilltop shows the terraced appearance of the surrounding hills. They did not appear to have any crops on the terraces and I believe we were told that they are a natural formation.

Just one more destination and that was to the highest point on the island and thus a great viewing point. It was cool (a relative thing) up there and we could see the arid landscape for miles around and spotted a few wild horses.

We made our way back to the harbour and our dinghies, to find that Jeremy and Kathy’s dinghy had burst open at one seam. Disaster! We assumed that the extreme heat and the associated expansion caused the split, but whatever the cause, the chance of fixing it looked slim. At least in extremis, Ellida’s dinghy will carry four people.

Jeremy worked hard with patches and adhesive, we donated some, but whatever he tried the seam pulled apart. The final solution (pardon the pun) was pinch the seam and trap it between two strips of wood, then clamp it all with wood clamps. It worked, not 100%, but sufficient unto the day.

Another day, another trip. This time to see the remains of an old Dutch fort. In its day it must have been very impressive with its commanding view of the seaward approaches.

Above is a water tower and below, the remains of the main facade.

Our ultimate destination however was a walled village, name unknown, but the childhood home of John and utterly fascinating.

Everyone had to enter through a strongly constructed gap in the wall; designed so that only one person at a time could enter. We were told that this was to discourage invasion.

The buildings were all of wood and straw construction. We didn't see any evidence of power, but very few places are without mobile phones these days !!!...

Basket making

The resulting baskets

It was interesting to see life being lived in such a basic way. Farming was the source of food and materials and we saw no evidence of mechanical aids.

The return trip was interspersed with stops at places of scenic beauty. Any stop was welcome as our bones recovered from the bouncing truck ride.

After a day's rest we received an invitation to attend a feasting and dancing evening. Julie warned us that we might be required to join in the activities; sing a little song, make a speech or something like that. What we needed was some moral support. Fortunately there was another boat anchored nearby, Brazilian flagged and manned by 4 young travellers, 3 lads and 1 girl. They were totally focussed on surfing, but they would try to get to the celebration if they could.

They did arrive, and we were all a little surprised by the large numbers of people and the amount of preparation that had been made. There was a stage, with a DJ and sound equipment. Our place was on the stage with the 'great and the good' and the music played and food was served - just to the stage party it seemed - but all the while a Karaoke concert was being performed by young locals.

As the evening wore on, and I had had a few beers, first one of the Brazilians brought the house down with his rendition of Besame Mucho…

Apologies for poor quality photo

…then the dancing started. One of the tunes that blared from the mega-watt speakers was one that Liz and I remembered (well almost remembered) from our line dancing days, so we started to perform the sequence. It caught on and before we knew it the music was being repeated and the steps copied by the audience. Wow! Great fun.

Finally, we were dragged down to take part in traditional dancing. We left our belongings behind and joined the throng. It was quite a danceathon and enjoyable in a 'unique' sort of way but eventually we staggered back to our seats on stage. It was then that Kathy discovered that her camera was missing. She had put it down with her belongings near the edge of the stage and it was no longer there. Pause for a communal camera hunt. The proceedings were halted and after a thorough search it was declared fruitless and the head man made a speech to the assembled masses. Being spoken in Bahasa, it was completely incomprehensible to us, but the tone was clear, 'if anyone knows who has this camera, we want it back'.

Jeremy and Kathy were resigned to the loss and it was time to move on, so we thanked everybody and flagged up our intention to leave nice and early the following day. Zoltan, the harbourmaster was consulted and our plan was to visit the tiny offshore island called Pulau Raidjua en route to Sumba for a day or so swimming and resting.

We did set off as planned, receiving several VHF calls from Zoltan wishing us well and speeding us on our way. The tiny island was about 20 miles away, but we had sailed only 10 or 11 miles when Jeremy reported that he had received a phone call from Julie. The camera had been found and the head of tourism would like to return it to him personally.

About turn …and our engine refused to start. The starter motor was not engaging. I checked all the wiring, but still nothing worked. Jeremy offered to tow us back to Savu where we could drop anchor and examine the problem more thoroughly.

We accepted their kind offer and set off

It's difficult to see the towline on this shot but it’s there! Thanks Sal Darago!

Jeremy and Kathy duly reported back and were given the camera. Apologies were made and we were exhorted not to leave with a bad impression of Savu and they hoped we would return one day. There was more to it than that. Apparently the assistance of a seer or medicine man had been sought. This person had advised that ground coconut must be sprinkled on the ground near from where the camera had disappeared, then a set of prescribed words must be spoken or chanted. This done, he was confident that the camera would re-appear.

After the sprinkling and chanting had been performed, the search was renewed and lo... the camera was found under a nearby bush! Who needs modern science.

After the delay, we opted to make a direct run for Waingapu on Sumba the following day.

Onwards to Kupang

2011-08-01T07:00:00.000+12:00

Tipperary Marina was an ideal location for us. The marina manager, Keith, was helpful and always busy keeping the place smart and up to date. We enjoyed meeting up with several friends berthed there, notably Beth and Bone from Splinter's Apprentice who when in UK, live only 20 miles or so from the Mousehouse.

Now down to business. We have an engine that needs attention, a roller furling that jams and several small niggling repairs to do. Taking Keith's advice, we engage the services of Nafea from Cullen Marine Services. And what an intelligent and hard working man he proved to be. No instant diagnoses here, Nafea worked his way systematically through the electrics and the fuel line before coming to the conclusion that we had blocked hoses due to dirt in the fuel tank. He then set about draining the tank, which contained nearly 200 litres of diesel and spent what seemed like hours scrubbing and cleaning until it was spotless. The diesel was filtered before putting it back and ...Bob's your uncle! Job done.

The days flew by, including several barbecues, (marinas can be very sociable places) and many trips around Darwin buying parts and provisions. Everyone says how difficult it is to obtain foodstuffs and drink in Indonesia.

This photo is taken from the Yacht Club on the occasion of an 'official' Indonesian Rally pre-departure meeting and barbecue. The boats are anchored in Fanny Bay.

Our lockout for the rally was actually the day after the official start time. Only so many boats can pass through the lock during the half tide slot, so as we were not in a desperate hurry to be first off the line ( and we had not booked in advance), we volunteered to lock out the day after the start date, so we had a very relaxed departure, no jostling, no waiting for the flag to drop, we just went.

It was a very calm day so we ended up motoring and managed about 20 miles when the engine died again. Bother! ...Double bother! We carry spare jugs of diesel, which are definitely clean, so I secured one of these firmly in the saloon, just over the engine compartment and using a couple of lengths of diesel hose I fed the engine directly from the jug. That worked beautifully, so we turned about and we were in Darwin just before darkness fell.

Repairs took several days, this time we replaced the old copper line with new plastic/rubber hose and that appeared to cure the problem. Let's try again.

It was 29th July before we set off again. Still there was no wind, so engine on again. It's a four or five day run to Kupang, and we sailed - albeit slowly - for a couple of those days, but for the remainder of the journey the engine performed faultlessly ...until we were alongside the southern coast of Timor, then it happened again! How could that be? We had completely renewed the fuel system!! But it did - and we linked up the fuel jug once more and motored to Kupang.

The final stretch, heading east along the north coast of Kupang was into 25 knot winds. The sea was rough and lumpy and we made slow but steady progress whilst constantly looking for the anchorage. The detailed charting was confusing and the co-ordinated provided by the Sail Indonesia Rally organisers is 'approximate'. Not to worry, the Rally organiser, who was on board a motor boat saw us coming and not only gave us directions to an anchoring spot, but also requested us, very urgently, to launch our dinghy and come straight to the beachside restaurant to meet the officials who were waiting.

A tall order actually. The seas were really rough and the wind still topped 20 knots in the (open) anchorage. Nevertheless we did as we were bid; anchored, launched the dink and sploshed our way to the beach. Normally I would be expected to ferry the officials back to the boat to finalise the paperwork, but looking at the conditions outside they all agreed that a site visit was not essential. All that is except one, the young Customs officer who bravely did the trip with me and got his neat uniform totally saturated. The boat examination was pretty perfunctory too.

Now to settle back and just take a good look at Kupang from where we sat.

It's so wonderfully atmospheric. The little fishing boats at anchor nearby are of a design that we had only before seen in pictures. The buildings onshore were mainly delapidated, but possessed of a charm of their own. The mosque however was in beautiful condition and had fully working Tannoy systems , at 0400!

And the sunset is glorious here as in Northern Australia. Have you ever seen the posters for Miss Saigon? ...all reddish sky with a gloriously orange setting sun large on the horizon? Well, it really is just like that. Time for a photograph!

Traditional fishing techniques. Manpower intensive and close inshore.

The anchorage, now dominated by small fishing boats was until last week host to about 70 sailing yachts from the Rally, is seems like we're the last to leave these shores!

We have a persistent diesel problem to sort out. A careful examination led to the opinion that we still had dirty fuel, so it had to be drained and changed.

We needed help and help came in the form of a young man named On, who said he could supply empty jugs, sell or otherwise dispose of the foul diesel (he said it could still be used as stove fuel). On owned a dugout canoe and could also obtain new diesel. So our task was clear, we had to drain from our tank 250 litres of dirty fuel, whilst On had to transport in 20 litre jugs to somewhere onshore, then return with 250 litres of new clean fuel. This was achieved using the same dugout canoe and 1-boy paddle power (although sometimes he had help). An amazing young man ...and he spoke English.

You will be pleased to know that we can now set aside the diesel saga.

Kupang the town was a great experience. It is quite an extensive metropolis with taxi-buses known as Bemas jostling for custom. This young man is trying to persuade us to hop on board. "Where are you from?" He shouts.

They are very individual to the owner/driver in decor and sound. Sometimes the horn tones play 'Colonel Bogey' or 'I wish I were in Dixie' and sometimes it was the in-bus entertainment system that was played to attract the custom.

This bema had so many fluffy toys dangling in the windscreen. How did the driver see to drive? Perhaps he didn't and the lad hanging out of the door is shouting directions, who would know!

The main streets have tightly packed shops with totally open fronts, crowds are everywhere and everyone wants to say 'hello'. It was a completely happy experience just walking the streets of the town.

These little fellows were having a fine time in a small side street.

We tried local restaurants (all reasonably priced), I found a barbers shop and had a haircut, we sampled local delicacies from street stalls and went to the local mall.

The first time we spotted chickens being transported in this way we were too slow to get a shot off. But we needn't have worried, it's a very regular sight and two minutes later another motorcycle similarly loaded whizzed around the monument and across the bridge and you do have the early warning system of clucks to allow you time to focus the camera.

The Sail Indonesia Rally team had provided names and telephone numbers of people who could help: we needed to buy a SIM card for our phone and a dongle for internet access (yes they have 3G here - usually of the minimal EDGE standard in fact - for the geeks amongst you).

We also needed to obtain local currency - all these things become difficult when English is not commonly spoken and our command of Bahasa Indonesian is limited to looking up words in a dictionary. All of these hurdles were surmounted and we enjoyed nearly a week in Kupang...

(just a quick snap to show the baskets made from folded leaves. Now there's green for you!)

...but we were now looking to the next stop.

Our first rough plan was to head north to Flores. Most of the fleet had gone that way and we were getting regular communiqués from Beth and Bone describing good and poor anchorages etc. However out of the blue we received an email from Jeremy and Kathy Spencer aboard their British Westerly Conway 'Sal Darago' suggesting that we might like to join them on the 'southern route'.

Across the Gulf of Carpentaria

2011-07-07T00:00:00.000+12:00

We remained only overnight at the Bay of Cape York. Our plans had included a visit to Seisia, a small but active township on the West coast of the Cape York Peninsula. However two major detractions forced us to abandon the plan; firstly we were short of time and secondly the depths of water in the area of the anchorage were rather shallow depending on the tide. So we headed for Endeavour Strait, a journey that took us past the entrance to Seisia, and took us at speed!

The current had to be in our favour to enable us to sail the route and we timed it carefully. Leaving our anchorage also required care - we had watched as a fellow cruiser ran aground on a sandspit just minutes before our own departure. At least he had kindly highlighted the extent of the shallows for us!

Passing alongside Possession Island, (the spot where, just before sunset on Wednesday 22 August 1770, Lt. James Cook declared the coast British territory in the name of King George III) having established that Australia was in fact an island. We were achieving over 10 knots as we raced through and this continued for a number of hours, almost until Endeavour Strait in fact. At this point we moved into the Gulf of Carpentaria and the sea state changed. We had been prepared for the benign smoothness of the coastal waters to morph itself into the lumpiness and short chop of a typical shallow waterway and it did!

As dawn approached we picked up an unexpected passenger in the shape of a Booby. He looked enormous at close quarters, and Liz took several photos, expecting at each click of the shutter he would take fright and go. But no, he was settled in for a jolly good rest!

It's official, the Gulf of Carpentaria is lumpy! But it was downwind sailing and we made steady progress. Our plan was to break our journey at the Wessel Islands - about 300 miles West - in Two Island Bay. Our friends Beth and Bone [s/y Splinters Apprentice] had passed this way a few weeks earlier and had written to recommend it as a good anchorage. Two Island Bay is situated on the Western side of the Wessel Island group, just 5 miles South of its Northernmost tip. Typically, we arrived about 2 hours before daylight, so we opted to stay offshore until the way was visible. It was indeed a very pleasant place to anchor, even though there was a very strong tidal current flowing even in the head of the bay. Extreme weather does herald fine sunsets...

The weather forecast had for several days been warning of winds in excess of 25 knots and there was no relief forthcoming as we listened to the short wave radio broadcast. So, there being no point in delaying, we pressed on, now of course in the Arafura Sea. The sea state was no longer particularly lumpy, but the winds did pick up and we regularly saw 30 knots. Another stint of (just under) 300 miles and we reached Port Essington, which is a very large inlet with several places for shelter. Again we had been recommended a safe stopping place and so we made a bee line for Coral Bay.

We arrived there to find 'Cop-Out' the Canadian flagged catamaran of Ken and Wendy who had been so hospitable in the north of Queensland and also Atlantia, a lovely large ketch owned by Will and Margaret a charming British couple whom we had met before. They had been in the bay long enough to have explored the nearby settlement, which is aboriginal and has a tourist facility. They planned to leave the next morning and we felt we should do the same as the tide times were favourable as was the weather.

Just a day sail took us to Alcaro Bay which is situated no more that a couple of miles from the notorious Cape Don, where the timing of currents is crucial.

Whilst there we took a trip on Ken and Wendy (Cop-Out)'s dinghy. This is reputed to be an area rich in wildlife, notably the infamous saltwater crocodiles (salties). And we spotted on emerging from the creek onto the sandy shore. It was only about 20-30 metres away and Liz and I looked at each other '...hmmm, is this wise we asked ourselves!' they call dinghies 'salties teething rings' in these parts.

Our trusty skipper seemed unconcerned however, so we pressed on a little longer but no more salties appeared.

Many boats wait at Alcaro for the right timings and we did the same. The following morning saw us sailing very gently around Cape Don and getting a mild current boost as we headed South across the mouth of Van Diemen's Gulf.

Nothing is straight forward however, and we suffered another fuel blockage which restricted our engine speed to just a little over tick-over. This was fine whilst the current was with us, but as the current direction shifts 180 degrees every six hours or so, we had to content ourselves with just better than breaking even for the remainder of the time.

We did have a brief stop-over for a rest near to Cape Hotham, but we were off very early on the final stretch to Darwin. It was a long run in totally calm waters, partly motoring at 7 knots and partly at 1 knot depending on the state of the current. However as we entered the Beagle Gulf, the wind started to pick up and by the time we were approaching the city limits of Darwin, we had over 20 knots on the beam ...we were hurtling into the busy harbour. We took in a bit of sail to make our progress more sedate and then finally made radio contact with Tipperary Marina (they call it Tippery here - just to be different) and were directed into our pre-booked berth. Phew!

The Cape York Peninsula

2011-06-10T07:00:00.000+12:00

We timed out departure carefully and headed off to Port Douglas, entering Packers Creek at exactly high water ...and it was a doddle. We had a gentle motor into the Marina Mirage and berthed in shallow water overlooking the roadway into town.

The date is Friday 10th June and guess what... Monday is a bank holiday, so we greatly fear that this is not a rush job. I ring Dan and he seems quite unphased and seems to take no cognisance of weekdays/holidays/weekends, they're all just names. He'll be there tomorrow and start work. We were surprised and delighted, but still there is the availability of parts to consider.

Dan came, measured up and announced that he has all the wire and fittings in his workshop. "Let's go and do it" he said. I followed him round the impeccable modern resort marina complex to the disused wharf with archaic sheds housing artisan workshops and scrap yards. Here was his workshop, open sided, no windows, but well stocked. He quickly found new wire of the correct size and thickness with fittings to match and with my help he swaged on the necessary terminals all within the space of an hour and we were back on board Ellida.

In fact he replaced two wires, the matching portside partner to the broken one as good practice dictates. Then we agreed that the rig required a full inspection,top as well as deck level, so he agreed to come on Bank Holiday Monday and carry out the survey.

After getting our repairs done so speedily, we had a couple of days to explore Port Douglas before the weather and tides would allow us to leave. The town proved to be fun and attractive. Granted it does have a lot of modern improvement, but it also has some interesting history too. The town is situated adjacent to two World Heritage areas, the Great Barrier Reef and the Daintree Rainforest. So tourism was bound to be a major industry. Like so many Australian towns, gold was the factor that led to its founding. In 1877 the discovery was made, the town (which has had several names) flourished and at its peak had a population of 12,000. Of course that dwindled and after a calamitous cyclone in 1911 struck the town and flattened all but 2 of its buildings. Post WW2 it was just a fishing village with a population of 100. but in the mid-1980s, tourism boomed in the region after investor Christopher Skase financed the construction of the world-class Sheraton Mirage. The rest - as they say - is history!

A small photo collection of Port Douglas:

The harbour entrance is just the other side of the white building.

Lighthouse overlooking the entrance harbour

Inside the Creek

The picturesque church of St Mary's by the Sea. A wedding was in progress on the day we visited, guests were gathering...

...then we saw the bride arriving; striding out in her thongs (flipflops to us), entourage in tow, with mother bringing up the rear carrying the bridal shoes!

A yacht race off the entrance.

The southern beach seen from the lighthouse walk.

An old sugar train converted for tourist trips.

and an amazingly futuristic catamaran returning to the harbour with trippers fresh from visiting the Barrier Reef islands.

All work complete and with confidence in our rig, we depart Port Douglas with an epic 8 mile journey ahead of us, all the way to the Low Isles. We could have made more miles if the tide times had bee suitable, but the Low Isles are renowned as a local beauty spot and so were too good to miss. Another point of note is their proximity to Batt Reef which gained notoriety as the place where Steve Irwin was fatally injured by a Stingray spine.

We were able to pick up a mooring buoy on arrival and we enjoyed a truly picturesque scene complete with neatly painted lighthouse. As we went forward to slip our lines the following morning, a turtle was grazing on the grass/algae on the mooring buoy - always fun to see.

We by passed Cooktown as we had already visited here on our land trip and the annual festival celebrating Cooks landing and stay here to repair the Endeavour after running her onto a reef. We also by passed the Endeavour Reef thanks to modern technology much of which is still based on those early explorers surveys.

It's over 100 miles to our next destination, Lizard Island. Famous in lots of ways. Athough it has an aboriginal history Captain Cook named the place Lizard Island in 1770; "The only land Animals we saw here were Lizards, and these seem'd to be pretty plenty, which occasioned my naming the Island Lizard Island." He also climbed the peak on Lizard Island to chart a course out to sea through the maze of reefs which confronted him and the island's summit has since been called ‘Cook's Look’.

Another part of it's history involves the heroic/tragic story of Mary Watson and her vain attempt to escape from attacking aboriginals to the mainland in a fish boiling tub. She was unsuccessful, ending her days on Howick Island, just 20 miles away.

Howick Island was in fact our next anchorage. Situated in a narrow deep water passage, it was an unusual looking anchorage on the chart, but as it was recommended we gave it a go. As it turned out it was calm and peaceful and we had a good night's rest there. Interrupted just once by a vessel that was too deep for the main channel and was committed to using the Howick Passage. We heard his radio annoncements and went up on deck to watch as he passed close by. (well it seemed close at night).

An early start for a 38 mile sail to Bathurst Bay near the Flinders Group of islands. Another of the 'gentle slope' variety. Approaching the bay on our chart-planned course, we could see another sailing boat near to shore, but it looked small enough to be just a dinghy. However as we inched forward in the very shallow depths for several miles the yacht seemed to get bigger and bigger - it was just an illusion caused by the distance we were offshore. We stayed further offshore than the other yacht and had our night's sleep.

One of the problems caused by our enforced stoppages in Gladstone and Port Douglas is our need to keep up the momentum. Today we were tempted to sail just a few miles an visit the islands of the Flinders group, but good sense prevailed and we put the miles in. The last few being very cautious as were were in very shallow partially charted water approaching Hedge Reef. Beth and Bone had been there before us and gratefully we had details of their precise anchoring position. It felt unusual to be anchored in the open sea - we knew there was a reef protecting us - but we couldn't see it!

Thirty miles is just right for a day run. Roughly 6 hours sailing for us. As we approach Morris Island we can see that it is several miles long and has vegetation and a light. Looked ideal as a sheltered anchoring spot. As in fact it was, we spent a pleasant night there with a lovely island view.

We had a choice at this point; Lloyd Bay was the next significant stopping place, but at 51 miles it was a long hop. We could stop at Night Island, which looked pleasant enough with shelter given against the prevailing southeasterlies, but the long term forecast was promising high winds we thought we had better make the push for Lloyd Bay and be prepared to sit out the bad weather.

We arrived in the late afternoon at Lloyd Bay which offered little shelter owing to the distance we were forced (by depth) to keep offshore. However we seemed secure and surprise surprise, there was a 3G broadband signal available from the vicinity of the Aborigine settlement at Lockhart River. And the bad weather came! Strong winds and rain to the extent that our anchor dragged at one point which left us hauling up and re-anchoring in rather nasty conditions. It seemed to go on for ever, but in fact is was just one week, nevertheless we were ready to move on. The photo shows Lloyd Bay in one of its more benign moods.

Portland Roads - literally just around the corner, 10 or so miles. Another open anchorage, it used to have re-fuelling facilities from a barge, but no more. A few boats share the space, some fishing boats and one or two yachts.

The wind is still strong, but after resting overnight we decide to make tracks north, to Margaret Bay. 43 miles of pretty reasonable sailing, that is until we reached Clerke Island and Nob Island. They mark the turnng point into Margaret Bay and we found that we had to make a track harder and harder into the wind. As if by magic the wind sensed our presence and stiffened to a robust 30 knots. Not far to go however and soon we were anchored in the lee of the land and the protection of the bay. We looked around and recognised several of the nearby anchored yachts, but it was getting late and it was blustery, so we did not make any house calls.

As darkness approached, one by one our fellow yachties made sail and disappeared into the dusk. We assumed that they had arrived the day before and we knew that it was an overnighter to make the Albany Pass and round to Cape York Bay, so it was to be expected.

Very soon after, we heard the sound of an approaching engine and spotted a large fishing boat that was bearing down on our stern. We waited and he kept coming closer until at last he was only a couple of metres from our stern. "We've got some shrimps if you've got some booze." Shouted a voice from the massively high bow towering above us. "We have a little beer and some spirits." I shouted back. The deal seemed to have been struck, we rustled up a six pack and a small flask of spirit and taking careful aim hurled them up to waiting arms. In return there came down a sack of mixed crustaceans. Exchanging thanks, the fishing boat turned off to anchor in deeper water and we examined our 'deal'.

Wow! There were (approximately) 6 large crayfish - more like lobsters really, more than a dozen Morton Bay Bugs and a couple of kilos of large prawns (known locally as shrimps). Our problem was how to keep such a haul. In truth we simply couldn't and sadly all the other yachts had left. So, as many of the creatures were still alive and kicking, we set them free. We kept a few crayfish, all the Bugs went overboard and we set about cooking the shrimps then and there. We had one full fridge!

Heading north once more we had an overnight journey to do which required careful timing. The Albany Pass has to be taken at the right state of tide i.e. at low water. The flood should then be north flowing which makes for a swift passage. All went well and we were round the top of Australia's east coast and into Cape York Bay feeling like one major hurdle had been surmounted. It's a famous challenge for land travellers too, there being no 'proper' road to here from Cooktown - several hundred miles of hard going. Several hardy souls had made the trip on the day that we came ashore and we watched the celebratory photos being taken.

We met Wendy and Ken from Cop-Out who were also anchored in the Bay and they offered us a lift in their dinghy. We simply had to go ashore here, 'the famous top right of Australia' it's only 80 miles from here to Papua New Guinea! But of course we are not going that way.

We had a fun walk along the beaches. Quite a few tourists were evident as people fly and boat in from Thursday Island, plus an adventurous few have driven up the dirt road from Cooktown - a long and arduous journey in a 4WD. The tip of the continent is clearly marked with a sign and we had to wait for the endless chain of tourists with cameras to have their fill ...before doing the same!

It's not the leaving of Bundaberg...

2011-05-11T07:00:00.000+12:00

The Great Barrier Reef

We had been away for a year and it was time well spent in England, we now have a home base of our own there and we did get to see our family, the absence of which is the hardest part of our travelling life-style.

However back in Oz, Bundaberg to be precise and re-united with Ellida it's nose to the grindstone to bring her back into cruising fettle. We expected to be greeted with a soggy boat after the extreme flooding that Bundaberg has had to endure over the last six months, but no, she was dry and no mould was evident.

After a couple of weeks polishing and painting, we were ready to launch. We suffered a temporary glitch when the engine refused to start, but the fault (a blocked exhaust manifold) was soon identified then cured and we were back in business.

We departed Bundy on 11th May just 2 years and 7 months after our arrival here from Vanuatu. This time we sailed north on an overnight sail to Great Kepple Island (the photo is our first seascape sunset in over two years). Or so we thought. But Elli had other ideas.

At about midnight, the engine developed a fault and after going through the usual first aid procedures, it became apparent that it was not a quick fix. Fortunately we could move under engine - at just over tickover speed, so we decided to divert into Gladstone.

As we have come to expect in Australia, nothing was too much trouble. Craig, the young diesel engineer was on the case without delay as was an electrical engineer (because we also discovered a battery charging problem) and within just a couple of days we were ready to go again. But our freedom was short lived as the same old problem cropped up again, just half an hour after leaving the marina. So back we came for a second time.

We got to know Gladstone quite well! The replica of Capt Cook's 'Discovery' was in port for some of the time

...and Gladstone has several sights of interest as well; for example, the marina taken in the late afternoon.

Passenger ferry entering the marina from the sea channel.

The Auckland Inlet a little before sunset

The porch supports on this church reflect the shape of the bottle trees which are a feature of the Gladstone area.

We also met up with Jeremy and Kathy whom we had first met in Bundaberg. A super couple from Preston who have raced here in just 3 years aboard their 36 foot Westerly Solway, 'Sal Darago'. They are also on the Sail Indonesia Rally and so our sailing plans are quite similar.

We left Gladstone on the same day, but as they have a much shallower draught than us, they were able to take a significant short cut and they were away for slates, not to be caught ...for months!

We made our way to Middle Percy. From its name, it wont surprise you to know that there are more than two Percys, North East (which is quite small), South Island and Middle Percy. It came well recommended as an island offering a choice of sheltered anchorages suiting most wind directions. We chose White's Bay on the South East side, which as quite a deep bay proved to be a very good anchorage.

After a brief stop our next destination was Scawfell Island. Not the spelling we are used to, but the names of the islands in this section of the Great Barrier Reef are all very redolent of home. Names like; Whitehaven,St Bees, Keswick... the list goes on.

After a brisk sail we arrived at the northwest facing Refuge Bay. The wind was blowing over 25 knots as we approached and we were convinced that the name was going to turn out a misnomer, but as we progressed deep into the bay, the winds changed from frantic to manageable, then as the day wore on - to mild. A lovely anchorage after all with delightful views - this one taken at sunset just as a small catamaran was entering the bay.

The following day we eased our way between Carlisle and Cockermouth Islands...

...to one of the most delightful anchorages on the Reef, Goldmith. A long bay with only two other boats in sight, northwest facing and beautifully sheltered.

A peaceful night, we would love to stop and have a snorkel, but we must press on.

It's the kind of day sailing distance that we enjoy, 28 miles only to Sawmill Bay on west of Whitsunday Island, facing Cid Island, a renowned beauty spot. We are entering charter-boat territory now. The anchorages are more crowded and channel 16 (the VHF hailing channel) is constantly busy; but it is beautiful and we enjoyed another calm and tranquil night's sleep.

Onwards and ever northwards, we have a 40 mile trip that takes us around Gloucester Head to Bona Bay. Just a convenience stop really, it's perfectly good, but somewhat of an open roadstead. As ever, our journeys are governed by how much we can do in the daylight. Anything over 60 miles is, to us, a 'night run'. We much prefer to travel by day not only because it's safer, but also we enjoy it more. We are greeted by a dugong swimming past as we arrive.

Next stop Cape Bowling Green. It sounds as if it should be flat and calm if the name is anything to go by. The pilot book advises a wide sweep approaching the anchoring area, and as we approach we realise why; the depths are shallow. We need at least 2.5 metres to float and we were quite a long way off with the depth gauge showing 5's then 4's. Hmmm... anyway, it turned out to be a very gentle slope and we anchored in lovely peaceful waters and enjoyed a glorious sunset.

However it was not to last. All hell broke loose at about 4:30 to 5:00am and the water surface was incredibly turbulent, the wind strength had increased from a gentle zephyr to a stiff 17 knots. No option but to up anchor and get out of the bay. There was only one other yacht in the bay with us and he was doing exactly the same in the breaking light of dawn.

Our next target was Magnetic Island. A well known and popular tourist spot, very close to Townsville, one of Queensland's biggest townships, and served by a ferry from there. It does however have a marina in a resort/condominium development. Our friends Beth and Bone (Splinters Apprentice - a fellow Saltram) had passed this way just a few weeks earlier and had emailed us to recommend it. We took their advice and pulled in. We were met by a very helpful and friendly marina manager, who got us well situated and outlined all the facilities - which were superb. We resolved to stay a couple of days just to relax and enjoy the island.

The Marina in the early morning light:

Unusual rock formations on the approach to Picnic Bay:

Hawkings Point from ground level:

...and just around the corner, from a high viewing point.

A young Kookaburra:

The old jetty in Picnic Bay:

We were recommended to do the Forts Walk because as well as providing a good viewing point we also stood a chance of spotting koalas. So we took a bus ride to the start of this walk. The track follows a ridge behind the bays and arrives at the ruins of the Forts complex operated during World War II. The lookouts did afford excellent views of the Palm Island Group in the north to the infamous (in anchorage terms) Bowling Green Bay National Park in the south. This walk is also famous for spotting Koalas in their natural environment ...and we did! Two of them, both doing what koalas do best (sleeping) but nonetheless there to be photographed.

A Koala, seen on the way up the Fort walk:

Views from the top (1):

Views from the top (2):

We spotted another one on the way down:

Our few day's respite passed all too quickly and we were off again, first to the Northeast Bay on Great Palm Island, an easy 33 mile trip and we anchored in shallow waters but with a very pleasant view of the coastline. When darkness was approaching we saw a small power boat heading straight for us.

The little motorboat hailed us as he approached and it turned out to be just two Aussie fishermen possibly even a little older than ourselves. "You don't happen to have a 12v pump for inflating an air bed do you?" one asked. As luck would have it, we did, left over from our camping trip, "Yes we do." I shouted back. At which point they proceeded to come alongside and the transfer was made. They set up their sleeping arrangements very quickly and they were off again. You meet the nicest people cruising!

At this point were were passing close to Hinchingbrooke Island,

...one of the major beauty spots on the east coast of Queensland. Normally, cruisers sail between the mainland and the island and although a twisty route and shallow in places under normal conditions, after the drama of Cyclone Yasi which struck land at this point on February this year, the navigation markers are still unreliable and some of the sandbanks have shifted. So for that reason and also because we were short of time, we opted to take the outside route. Our anchorage for the night was Agnes Island. A bit short on shelter, but it turned out to be just fine.

Next stop Dunk Island. The island gained it's moment of fame when in 1969, James Mason and a young Helen Mirren and all the necessary entourage came to film 'Age of Consent'. It is a holiday island with a resort, but at present it is under reconstruction - after Yasi of course. Nonetheless it was a perfectly good anchorage for us, we didn't go ashore, but we had excellent scenery.

The jetty that may be the one that features in the film, or it may have been reconstructed several times since then!

Just 22 miles on to Mourilyan Harbour, but an early start and we are rewarded with some spectacular sunlight and cloud effects.

A frighteningly narrow entrance to this natural harbour, which opens out into a well protected inland sea. However we still have to be very cautious as it is extremely shallow outside the bounds of the actual harbour even though it looks as if there is infinite space. We could see yachts moored in line down a passage of reasonable depth, but we were amazed to find that one of those masts that we could see had no hull! We assumed that it had sunk on the spot - perhaps another legacy of Yasi.

We are getting very near to Cairns now. It's just too far for a single shot in daylight, so we take 44 miles off the distance by overnighting at Fitzroy Island. Only 15 miles short of Cairns, but necessary. It was a bit difficult to anchor - deeper than we normally like and it was a very open roadstead. However the other 20 or so boats didn't seem to mind, so we dropped our hook in about 18 metres of water and had a peaceful night. It seems that Fitzroy is a resort island served by pleasure ferries from Cairns. However it still looked very green and pleasant.

Ahhhh, Cairns. It was always in the mind as a target. There was BC and AC, before Cairns and after Cairns. We had discovered a crack in the kicker bracket that hung off the boom. It didn't look dramatic, but we resolved that Cairns was the next major city at which we could hope to effect a repair.

We were directed to a berth in Marlin Marina and we set about getting one or two things. Firstly, full marks go to the chandlery; managed by Jenny Gangell, we were able to top up our propane, buy several boating essentials and she even managed to source and collect some vital diesel filters for us. Big thanks to Jenny.

Cairns is an attractive town, we think. Particularly the waterfront. So here are a couple of photographs taken in that area.

A bit of a shock though to find out that a place the size of Cairns has no rigger. The nearest is in Port Douglas, just 20 miles up the road. Furthermore, the master-rigger has been admitted to hospital and is out of action, but he does have an assistant, Dan, who by a supreme stroke of luck was in Marlin Marina on another job. He called by and we talked about rigging and examined the kicker problem and also the rest of those parts of the rigging that were visible from the deck. To our surprise he found a broken strand on one of our aft lower shrouds - a vital part of the rigging especially for downwind sailing. It has to be replaced. Dan however, says that we must take Ellida down to his workshop in Port Douglas for this to be done. Now I've seen the chart for the Port Douglas entrance and it has a bar of 1.5 metres at the entrance! "No problem," says Dan "we have over 2 metres of tide - come in at high water."

Mingenew in Western Australia's Wheatbelt

2009-11-20T09:00:00.005+13:00

Greenough (pronounced 'grenuff') lies about 24 kms south of Geraldton with which it joins forces as a shire identity i.e. Geraldton-Greenough. It has trees that have bent to an angle of 90° due to the force of the coastal winds. Much favoured by photographers.

They also have a historic visitor site with a fine collection of period buildings.

The priest's home. It was Mgr Hawes last parish before he returned to the Bahamas where he became a hermit on Cat Cay.

The old police station

...and a friendly dunny!

The old school room today...

...and in its heyday.

We are in wheat country, should one have been in any doubt.

At harvest time.

Kangaroo Paw. To think that we hunted for these when we were further north; now they are abundant.

The township of Mingenew has an impressive display announcing its presence.

...and a wheat statue (know to the locals as 'big ears').

The origin of the town name is sometimes attributed to the aboriginal word Minganu which means place of ants. We can believe that. It now majors in sheep, lupins and wheat the latter having spawned the town's claim to being the largest inland, grower-fed, receival facility in Australia.

Emus used to be plentiful in the area and local myth has it that they used to hit balls of grass to each other using Mallee sticks. The mural made use of the myth and challenges the observer to 'name the emu'.

More Kangaroo Paw, this time the yellow variety.

A rather charming corrugated iron cow at Drovers Rest, part of a sculpture reminding visitors of Mingenews droving history. We love all the outdoor paintings and sculptures which are found in almost every town we visit. Sadly we cannot include them all, the site would overflow.

Enanty barn on the edge of town is one of the oldest buildings in the area. Built in the late 1800s as a shepherd and sheep facility you can see from the following note it was often pressed into service for other duties.

Visitors often had to sleep in the barns or outside. A petition by local homestead owners sought more wayside inns:

'We are compelled, at our own individual expense (and frequent inconvenience) to accomodate[sic] the majority of the horsemen and many of the pedestrians that are continually passing by our homesteads.'

Our reason for visiting Mingenew was originally to escape the wind on the coast. It has been blowing constantly since we were in Exmouth, apparently this is not unusual for this time of year but it does rattle the tent somewhat if the campsite is at all exposed, so we decided to go inland. Turns out this was a good idea , it was much calmer and we got to visit several charming towns too.

Rather like cruising most of the people we meet on our travels are heading in roughly the same direction and a family we first met in Kunnannurra told us in Perth they had stuck to the coast and only spent one night at the seaside towns Dongara /Denison before moving on to somewhere more sheltered in Perth.

Australia's Best Climate - Geraldton

2009-11-16T09:00:00.018+13:00

The journey out of Kalbarri was punctuated by photo-stops for wildflowers. It was still astonishingly beautiful.

It was a lovely day (most of them are) and the rolling wheat fields with distant farm buildings made a fine landscape.

Passing a sign to Hutt River Province would not have caused much of a frisson of excitement, but having read the delightfully whacky history of the province (now officially called the Principality of Hutt River) outlining the series of events that led to Prince Leonard declaring his realm independent of Australia in 1970. It's a great tale, read all about it through this link.

Another feature on the starboard side is the pink lake. We were warned that it was pink, but we didn't expect it to be quite so ...so ...pink really. Caused apparently by a bacteria (Dunaliella Salina) which gets trapped in the salt granules. Best seen at sundown, the guide book says, but we were quite impressed shortly before lunch.

The historic site of Lynton. The signpost probably tells the tale better than I could, must have seen its share of hardship.

When we visited it was totally deserted and although we did not venture along the dirt road to inspect the old Sandford House, the ruins themselves were in a beautiful state of decay.

Austere but very solidly constructed old buildings.

The gateway to the dirt road and the house boasted half a set of windmill blades as an embellishment.

Our first sight of the Western Australia Christmas Tree in full bloom. These became more abundant as we journeyed south and make for a brilliant splash of colour.

We met the North West Coastal Highway at Northampton. An impeccable small town which started life in the mid 1800's with lead mining followed by copper mining later on.

The old Roads Board Office now houses an arts and crafts centre and there are several other buildings from the last century and some interesting traditions are perpetuated, notably 'the airing of the quilts'. We missed it, sadly, but it is what it says. Colourful and intricate quilts are hung from the towns main buildings on a specific day each year, 'the airing' and it has become a tourist attraction.

It is time however, to introduce the exceptional and talented Monsignor Hawes. He was a priest who doubled as an architect. For Northampton he designed a church in Byzantine style with domes and rounded features - leaning towards the Greek Orthodox. It was not to the taste of the incumbent priest, Father Irwin who insisted on something more conventional, more Gothic. The result was a mixture of both, made in rough hewn stone (locally quarried) which gives it a 'hand-knitted' appearance. Monsignor Hawes left quite a trail however and we pick up on him later.

Geraldton is a large town [pop. 31,500] and according to some sources boasts the best climate in Australia and some pretty special buildings. The glorious tourist office for example, was once a hospital was from a style of a by-gone era.

We had to visit the old police station of course which is now a craft centre and the cells which were open to the public. Liz and I walked into a tiny cell and met a lady manning a craft display. "...and what crime did you commit to deserve incarceration here?" I asked. "My crime was to have a brother in law who makes models out of drink cans," she laughed.

Geraldton Museum had, amongst other things, relics of the Batavia which I mentioned in the last blog. A canon, but most strikingly...

...a stone archway. Carried as a collection of stones of course and originally thought to be ballast it was assembled at the Museum. The archway was destined for the important Dutch colonial port of Batavia, now known as Jakarta. The Batavia was not the only Dutch trading vessel wrecked on this inhospitable coast though its story does make it the most distinctive and the museum has treasures recovered from several other wrecks.

On a hill overlooking the harbour there is a monument to HMAS Sydney. On 19 November 1941, Sydney was involved in a mutually destructive engagement with the German auxiliary cruiser Kormoran, and was lost with all 645 aboard. [Link to full story]

A poignant statue of a lady looking out to sea stands near the monument.

There's no escaping the Batavia story! The statue of Wiebbe Hayes celebrates the hero of the occasion. He was one of a group of soldiers who had been abandoned by the lawless mutineers and left to die. Fortunately he did not die and managed to alert the forces of the authorities who were seen arriving by sea. The mutineers were overpowered and brought to "rough" justice.

Geraldton has a fine collection of impressive buildings, one such is the Law Courts.

This bold red and white striped landmark has become something of a Geraldton icon, overlooking the blue waters of the Indian Ocean at Point Moore.

A pre-fabricated steel tower built in the UK, it was erected on site in 1878 and stands 34 metres tall. Its beam can be seen 26km out to sea. The recently repainted structure is the only one of its kind in WA.

As promised, a return to Monsignor Hawes and one of his creations on the grand style; Geraldton's St. Francis Xavier cathedral. This work was designed on the Spanish Mission style.

A view from outside the cathedral grounds.

Internally, it can only be described as bold and exciting. This is the original colour scheme.

Every year the fishermen in Geraldton scrub the decks and decorate their boats for the annual blessing of the fleet which has been running almost continuously since the early 1900's. We missed it by just one week and a great shame, by all accounts a splendid day, with excellent weather, record crowds and added attractions.

Using Geraldton as our base, we took a trip out to Mullewa, just a 100 km hop - hardly worth getting the car out, in Western Australian terms. At the approach to the town we spotted the street sculptures; a cow, a dog and a man on horseback straddling a dual carriageway.

This is another town on the Monsignor John Hawes trail, he appealed to us. He was a free spirit (in so much as he was allowed to be as a priest) talented, amazingly hard working and definitely quirky.

The Church of Our Lady of Mount Carmel and adjoining priest house were designed and built by Fr. John. They may look as if they were transported from France or Italy, but they do add a little variety and excitement to the township. The priest house incidentally is now a memorial museum to the man himself.

We were fortunate that as we drove up a coach party with a booking for a guided tour had just arrived. We were welcomed by the group and it gave us the opportunity to see far more than we could otherwise have achieved. Including the church interior.

Not far from the Mount Carmel church there is a walking trail punctuated with distinctive shelters each one housing an information site relating to the Monsignor and his work.

...and also a little replica of his dog Dominie (in various poses) which used to follow him everywhere.

On our return journey we ran into some heavy skies and patches of rain. The sun still emerged through gaps in the cloud lighting up the wheat fields and providing a rainbow. Stand back ...we are amateur photographers.

Wild Flowers in Kalbarri

2009-11-13T13:08:00.027+13:00

Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with bleak and barren. But we saw quite a lot of it on the North Coastal Highway driving south from Denham. Then we turned right onto the Ajana Kalbarri road and very soon found a signpost with a camera - which as every tourist knows - indicates a photo opportunity. Quite frankly it didn't look promising. The highway was flanked by shrubs and there were no mountains at all.

We stopped and peered over the surrounding shrubbery and were astounded by the splash of colour that greeted us. Acres and acres of purple.

We later found out that the purple mass was Pink Morrison ...ok, so it was pinkish sort of purple. But there were more varieties of flowers everywhere we looked. What a change, in just a few kilometres.

Eventually, after repeated stops, we arrived at Kalbarri and took stock of what we wanted to see. The really big attractions; Eagle Rock, Natures Window and Z-Bend were only accessible by 4WD but there were a few historic sites and some wildflower reserves within driving range. However we discovered that Jan and Joe, whom we had first met at the Monkey Mia dolphin display, were staying at the same site and they offered to take us to see the off road sights in their vehicle next day. Thanks Jan and Joe, a great offer.

The Ross Graham Lookout

Even the route there was part of the pleasure. We had numerous stops ...no more than that ...Joe spent some of the time standing up through the sun roof with his video camera, the rest of us just hopped out every few yards and took stills. This view is just a bit of context with the trusty 4WD.

Jan and Joe at Z-Bend.

This is a sample of the glorious richly coloured and wonderfully textured rock formations.

Pictured at Nature's Window. Joe became camera man to endless groups of young backpackers after this shot.

River Gorges galore.

...and yet more wall to wall Pink Morrison. (it's purple really)

Grass Trees are fairly common. Unusual in their appearance, they have a sort of pre-historic charm.

Just a few yards from the camp site, local volunteers host a pelican feeding and information event most mornings at around 8am. Next morning we were with quite a large crowd to see the spectacle. Some of us were trusted to throw the odd fish or two...

...and whilst Pelicans were the stars of the show, there were several opportunists just hovering around - and meeting with some success. A gull stole the fish Liz was offering to the pelicans straight from her hand with a fast dive and a faster getaway.

Setting out once again with Jan and Joe, we tackled another direction and a new collection of beauty spots. At an impromptu wildflower photo-shoot just five minutes into our journey, we disturbed a 'roo. A disappearing back view, I know, but isn't the grace in the sweep of that tail so elegant.

We drove to the southern end of the Coastal Kalbarri National Park to Island Rock.

Then gradually retraced our steps visiting several wonderful vantage points. From on high we watched a pod of dolphins making their way south and a whale spout further out to sea.

One of many breathtaking cliff views.

A photo-call at a cliff edge. It looks pretty tame here, but from where we stood it seemed a long way down!

Well, thanks to Jan and Joe for sharing the ride. The sign below warns us saloon car drivers when to back off, so we would have seen a lot less without their help.

Time to move on and our road out took us past a monument which recalls a fairly horrendous period in the regions early European history. It involves a sailing vessel named the Batavia in the year 1629, a ship-wreck and a mutinous band of men. Not a bedtime story for the under-fives, but if you're interested try clicking onto this link.

The François Péron National Park

2009-11-12T09:00:00.008+13:00

Further north and west than Denham lies the François Péron National Park. Quite small by Australian park standards, having approximately the same area as the Isle of Man. It has become one of the most important natural areas in Australia and is home to many rare and endangered species Unfortunately for us it would require 4WD capability to explore the park itself, but the old homestead is accessible to 2WD.

Once a pastoral homestead, it is now preserved as a museum aimed at providing an insight into what life was like as a sheep farmer in the last century. The view below, taken through the dinner gong, is of the shearing sheds.

Inside the sheds, much of the tools and machinery are there to view, but even here there was automation. Hand shearing was a tough business.

An indication of the severity of the sun out here is the construction of the 'holding' pens. Sheep waiting to be sheared or having been sheared were protected from the worst of the sun's direct glare by vegetation thrown onto netting over the pens.

The grounds of the homestead boasted some incredible plumbing. Water for the farm was from artesian bore, drawn by windmills and pumped via a complex junction and network of pipes to the surrounding land. However one of the outlets produced (and in fact still produces) hot water which fills a tub near the house and can still be used by visitors. ...er ...no we didn't, we were really hot enough!

The home garden pool was very attractive and offered a glimpse of some unusual wildlife. A Gould's Monitor lizard marched purposefully away when he saw us. This fellow was about 18 inches long, quite harmless and rather handsome really.

Just a little further away near the same pool, an emu stalked snootily past not even acknowledging our presence. Probably thought it was Michael Parkinson coming to make peace.

Monkey Mia - Meet the Dolphins

2009-11-11T09:00:00.006+13:00

Monkey Mia is a well know tourist spot and the big attraction is the dolphins. They are wild of course and the literature is quite clear that it is up to the dolphins whether they come in to feed at the appointed hours. We were there for the early show and kept our fingers crossed for the stars to arrive...

..and so did many others.

They have a group of six staff who each man a bucket of fish and after the introductory talk visitors are invited to feed the dolphins. The staff know the dolphins individually by their shape, colour, battle scars etc. and they feed only the same six dolphins each day, just a small amount of fish - insufficient for their needs - so as to ensure that they continue to fish and fend for themselves.

We watched the first feeding from the pier knowing that the organised trips would soon depart and the visitor numbers would decrease for the second feeding. It also gave us a good angle to photograph the dolphins as they arrived.

They always seem to be wearing a smile!

The second sitting (an hour or so later) had far fewer visitors, so we joined the shoreline feeding party. The dolphins have learned that as soon as the visitors step back out of the water, the buckets containing the fish will arrive, and it is then that they come in really close to shore.

And the dolphins obligingly followed the script.

There are also those who believe that if you shout loudly enough, there may be some fish to spare

...and they also serve who only stand and wait.

The entire beach area is picturesque. Space to walk, no crowds, beached boats...

...moored boats and of course white sand and blue skies.

This shot is an inland pool. It has a dirt road surrounding it, with our 2-wheel drive saloon car we only ventured down the main track but several people had found secluded spots to make camp and fish.

Denham - The Westernmost Town

2009-11-10T09:00:00.004+13:00

Denham is the most westerly town in Australia, it is the administrative centre for the shire of Shark Bay, has a population of 607 (at the last count) and has a lovely open harbour which is protected by a reef...

...through which has been cut an entranceway for vessels of a modest size.

A nearby lookout advertises that sharks can be seen prowling the shallow waters in a bay near the town. We had to go and see of course and from a very high vantage point the sharks could be seen clearly enough.

Thank goodness for zoom lenses!

The viewing point is named Eagle Bluff and gives a scenic view of the arid landscape surrounding the town.

Leaving the main town area, this sign was a new one to us. The Bilby is pretty rare and nocturnal, so our chances of spotting one are remote. To protect the native species a fence and gate have been installed across the peninsula and when you cross the grid a noise comes from speakers at the roadside as an extra frightener.

A novelty picture. Denham is not blessed with a natural water supply, their drinking water is desalinated. There are artesian wells nearby, but they only provide brackish water - ok for agriculture, but not for human consumption.

This restaurant is included because of its contruction, which is from the same 'coquina' stone that we had learned about at Hamelin Pool. It looks so clean, modern and 'uneroded' that we wondered if it was a modern construction, but apparently not so, it's exact dating we couldn't find out, but it certainly isn't just a modern replica.

Finally, a 60 km long beach formed entirely from the coquina shells to a depth of several metres. It is called rather aptly, Shell Beach. No souvenirs allowed.

Hamelin Town's in ....Western Australia

2009-11-09T09:00:00.020+13:00

Well, actually Hamelin Pool, just a little poetic licence. This part of Australia was a popular stopping place for Dutch (1616 and 1697), British (1699) and French (1722, 1800 and 1818). They all left their mark, (actually they mostly left their names: Dirk Hertog, Vlamingh, Le Freycinet, Peron, Hamelin, all still landmarks hereabouts). But in 1858 Captain Denham aboard H.M.S. Herald set about charting the entire area. Since then it has been populated by British Australians.

The Telegraph Station was built in 1884 as a vital link between Perth and Roebourne. It now contains a museum.

The old quarrying area shows where the blocks of coquina, the material used for making the buildings were cut out. It is composed of tiny white shells that have dropped to the ocean bed in such profusion that they have eventually formed a solid mass.

A close up of the material used.

The big attraction was to see the Stromatolites at Hamelin (named after a french 'naturaliste') Pool. There was a beautifully constructed board walk designed to provide a good view of these prehistoric life forms, but protect them from further damage.

The labelling was fun. "Meet Stumpy Stromatolite" it declares; and proceeds to provide easily digestible facts on boards along the way.

They are quite colourful formations, mostly grey but with some reddish rust coloured that result in an interesting overall effect.

From the boardwalk it is possible to see tracks of vehicles leading from the shore.

In the late 1800's and early 1900's, camel trains transported wool from nearby pastoral stations to a Government wool shed once located here at Flagpole Landing. Wool bales were carted to the foreshore in small drays, loaded in dinghies and ferried out to a waiting lighter (a small sailing ship).

The lighter then sailed 190 kms (118.75 miles) to a deep anchorage off Dirk Hartog Island where the cargo was transferred to a larger ship for the journey to Fremantle.

As anyone who has read Bill Bryson's account of the universe will know, stromatolites give off oxygen and over 2 billion years gave off enough to sustain life as we know it today. This photo shows the glint of air bubbles being given off by the stromatolites - is that what they are talking about?

Leaving Hamelin Pool for Denham, we passed a beautiful sign. Fancy calling a place Useless Loop. In fact it was a name given by the French approaching from the sea. They declared it a 'useless harbour' as it had an impassable sand bar across its entrance. Sadly it was a bit too much of a diversion. So we pressed on directly to Denham (named after ...you guessed, Captain Denham of the HMS Herald).

End of the day at Denham harbour.

Carnarvon - Blowholes and Tramways.

2009-11-07T09:00:00.016+13:00

The town was formed as a supply centre and port for the surrounding area. Officially gazetted in 1891, it was named after Henry Herbert, 4th Earl of Carnarvon who was then Secretary of State for the Colonies.

The evidence of those earlier days were open to view on a museum site near to the port.

The tramways grew as traffic to and from the port increased. The first dating from 1884, ran from a landing site on the river to a shed on the other side of the road - A very short tramway indeed.

The second, constructed between 1886 and 1887 ran west in a straight line to the jetty, it was horse drawn.

The third, and partially remaining, tramway was completed in 1900. It runs from the townsite, across Babbage Island to the deep-sea jetty. It ceased operation in 1965.

However, the Carnarvon Light Railway Association now operates trains along restored tracks on the jetty. And of course, we had to have a ride on Coffee Pot!

The OTC Satellite Earth Station Carnarvon was built to assist in NASA's Apollo Moon project. As well as the tracking station, 3 communications satellites were launched.

The antenna became operational on 29 October 1966 and just a month later, on 25th November 1966, a live BBC television broadcast from a studio in London featured interviews linking UK families with their British migrant relatives standing in Robinson Street, Carnarvon.

The antenna became famous again on 21 July 1969, the day of the Apollo 11 moon landing, relaying Neil Armstrong's first steps on the Moon from NASA's Honeysuckle Creek Tracking Station, Canberra, to Perth's TV audience via Moree earth station - the first live telecast into Western Australia.

The station was decommissioned in April 1987, but the site is still 'actively' involved in solar scientific research.

Along the beach road, a small community has grown up of beach homes. They look a little 'Heath Robinson' shall we say, but the water front is nearby and that means good fishing.

Just a mile or so along the coast, the scenery gets more rugged.

A popular place for sightseers and thus there is a requirement for 'facilities'. No chance of digging holes in this ground, so there has to be 'the long drop'. Note the lighthouse in the background.

Like many limestone coastal formations, blowholes are evident. We stood and watched trying to time the 'best shot'.

Finally and nearly forgot to mention ...the Lunchbox Banana. In Carnarvon the beautifully tasty small sized, banana is grown. Not many years ago, the bananas grown here in the west, being smaller than their eastern counterparts were regarded in the trade as inferior. However, the difference in size is now being marketed as a feature, and the sales prove that to have been a good move.

This one was a little 'over-sized' of course.

Coral Bay

2009-11-04T09:00:00.007+13:00

Coral Bay is for beach holiday makers. It focusses on a gloriously beautiful beach/bay with turquoise water and white sand. We heard that it was possible to see sharks from a point around the bay. We walked the curve of the bay for about a mile or so and sure enough there they were. Not monster specimens, but plenty of them just lazing in the shallow water. Anyone for a swim?

Just on the other side of the bay (where we had walked from) families with children were paddling and splashing happily. The sharks don't visit this end of the beach apparently.

Later in the afternoon there was a special 'fish feed' happening and dozens of big fish turned up right on cue. The children thought it was great fun as the fish swam through their legs actually touching them at times.

The big high-light for us however was a snorkel on the coral - from which the bay no doubt gets its name. Fabulous!

The Ningaloo Reef

2009-10-30T09:00:00.007+13:00

About 1200 kilometres north of Perth a peninsula juts into the Indian Ocean. Known as Cape Range, the Western side of the peninsula is largely covered by the Cape Range National Park . It does have one modest town and that is Exmouth which overlooks the gulf that shares its name.

Our campsite in Exmouth was endowed with emus. They, like many species, eventually get so used to a human presence that they develop scavenging traits. Resort residents are asked not to feed them, but of course many do just that.

The peninsula's tip is the North West Cape which like many of the world's promontories boasts a functioning lighthouse, however a little to the south west high on another outcrop there is an older lighthouse named the Vlamingh Head light. It was superficially damaged in a cyclone a decade or so ago and was restored complete with paraffin lamp. It is a tourist attraction and it is only lit on just a few occasions each year.
The Indian Ocean side of Cape Range peninsula.
More Emus, but wild ones this time. One long neck and two stubbies ...is that an Australian 'beer' joke?
An Echidna, just wandering purposefully through the area where we proposed to pitch tent. In fact we failed on that occasion. The wind was so strong, that even with the help of a chap in a trailer tent alongside, we couldn't put our canvas up. Nor could we put the pegs into the concrete like ground, so all in all it was doomed to failure. Here in Yardie Creek, we spent our one and only night in the car. Thank goodness for reclining seats.
Two views of the beautiful Yardie Creek Gorge. We did the early morning thing and walked the crest of the gorge whilst the sun was in the right direction and not too fierce.
Note the tranquil waters; ideal for the mirror effect so sought after by photographers!
Turquoise Beach. Dotted along the National Park coastline are beaches, probably just as fine as this one, But Turquoise boasts 'the best drift snorkel in the world'. Pretty heady boast is it not? We had to try it out of course, and it was great fun. The current took us through the reef areas at at a steady pace, so we did it twice - and it was very good indeed. Later we tried the calmer waters in a different area of the bay and that was good too.

I thought I would leave Ningaloo George to say goodbye to Exmouth. He is a replica whale shark made from fibre-glass. These creatures can be seen in the seas around Exmouth between March and June. Hmmm... missed again.

Karratha - Even More Mining!

2009-10-25T09:00:00.024+13:00

It is only about 250 kms from Port Hedland to Karratha, but the road was long and the scenery was unchanging. Here's just a typical view.

About 50 kms before reaching Karratha, we reached Roebourne. It was also the junction leading to Cossack, another town of historic interest on the west-coast. There was no time for a further diversion today, but we promised ourselves a day out to see Cossack.

Roebourne was a significant town in the 1860's with mainly farming interests. In 1872 a cyclone wiped out the old town, but the residents re-built and what we see today is a town of historic stone buildings. Later prosperity came with a gold discovery and in modern times it mining of other minerals. It was a lovely sunny and warm day - not a record here though, in 1998 the town recorded 49.4 degC.!

A building from the Heritage collection with several artefacts.
More from the same site.
The simple church on the hill.
Finally the impressive Roebourne Post office.

Having settled into the Karratha camp site, we found that most of our neighbours were not people on holiday or travellers, but contract workers in the mining industry. This had trebled the cost of cabins and changed the ambience of the site.

The next day as promised, we drove to visit Cossack, named after the boat that brought the State Governor to visit the town.

Here in the 1860's the West Australian pearling industry was born and it went through a period of prosperity attracting people from several nationalities, notably Asian because of their pearling/diving experience. A cyclone wiped out the buildings and the pearling fleet in 1881, but undaunted they were back in business shortly after. In 1844 however, the government called a halt to pearling on the grounds of over-fishing, which virtually rang the death knell for the aspiring township and the pearling industry moved to Broome. In 1887 the northwest gold rush started and Cossack was revitalised, stone buildings proliferated and the area was declared a Municipality.

Nanny Goat hill on the left and the stone schoolhouse, built to replace the old wooden structure in 1897.

Above, the Customs House and Bonded Store. Also dating from 1897, it became redundant when the harbour moved to Port Sampson nearby. It then became a cafe, probably associated with the Turtle Soup Factory which operated from another part of the building.

The Post and Telegraph Office was the first stone building to be constructed in Cossack. Built in 1884 it heralded Cossack's own connection to the outside world.

The elegant courthouse dates from 1895 and was little used as the town was by then in slow decline.

Galbraith & Co. bought and sold just about everything in Cossack. Initially sited in a group of wooden buildings, a cyclone put an end to them and the fine edifice seen above was built in 1890.

First landing beach as seen from Tsien Tsin lookout. Tsien Tsin was Cossack's original name - for just a few years.

Sunset in Karratha.

The amazing Sturt Pea. This specimen was spotted by Liz, growing on a splitter island in the centre of town!

A couple of Galahs impersonating Elvis.
Saltpans on the Karratha-Dampier Road
The massive goods trains taking ore and products in and out of Dampier.

At the entrance to Dampier is a statue of "Red Dog", a red kelpie/cattledog well known for roaming the area in the 1970s and hitching rides to nearby towns. The statue reads "Erected by the many friends made during his travels".

The impressive, modern, air-conditioned Gas Shelf Information Centre explains the importance and the functioning of the North West Shelf Venture. It is Australia's largest resource development project and involves the extraction of petroleum (mostly natural gas and condensate) at offshore production platforms, onshore processing and export of liquefied natural gas and production of natural gas for industrial, commercial and domestic use within the state.

A local cultural attraction is the vast collection of ancient aboriginal petroglyphs. Found randomly amongst the rocks of Deep Gorge on the Burrup Peninsula. They have been listed by the Heritage Council of Western Australia, the collection of aboriginal drawings or etchings number over 40,000 individual items.

These are just a few easily accessible examples that we were able to find.
A drawing of a kangaroo?
Some real kangaroos. (Actually Euros)
We're not sure what this one is.
This however is Hearson Cove, a peaceful bay. Spot Liz sitting on the rocks.

Port Headland - More Mining

2009-10-23T09:00:00.025+13:00

Though the coastline in the area had been explored in the 1700s, Captain Peter Hedland was one of the first Europeans to explore the harbour for the purpose of developing an export port. He arrived in the area in April 1863 onboard his boat, Mystery, that he had built himself at Point Walter on the banks of the Swan River (Perth).

What Capt Peter had omitted to report, was that there is a shallow sand-bar governing the entrance to the port which made it difficult for ships to enter in all but the highest tides. For many years this led to Port Hedland being eclipsed by other nearby settlements; Cossack and Roebourne. It wasn't until the 1960's that iron ore was discovered and mined. After that the harbour was dredged and the industry blossomed.

Port Hedland now has the highest tonnage of any port in Australia and is the largest town in the Pilbara region of Western Australia, with a population of approximately 14,000.

The first features we saw as we entered the town's environs were; the railways (about which more later).

..and the salt pans, complete with the 'white mountain range!

It was pure happenstance. It was a Saturday and Port Hedland was celebrating its 113th birthday (I suppose Bilbo might have said, 'its eleventy third'). It is not a large town, but the main street was alive with activity. Side shows and stalls, a stage, and announcer and a programme of events. The town even had a birthday cake made up from scores of cup cakes and of course the children were there to blow out the candles.

After the children - everyone else, "Visitors included !" The young lady said with a smile.

Some folks that we had spoken to didn't rate Port Hedland as a tourist stop. But we warmed to the place. It was neat and smart, a lot of effort had been put into street decorations, statues, gardens and an 'overall good state of repair'. In any case it was as far as we wanted to drive in a day, towns are 100s of kilometres apart in WA with little or nothing in between.

Just a couple of the street statues follow here:

A more conventional statue crouches by the waterside.

And of course Kangaroos - a lovely 'action' scene, we thought.

This is just a sample of a large collection depicting life through the years in the history of Port Hedland.

The man-made Spoilbank juts northwards from the town. We drove as far along the bank as the bitumen road allowed and discovered a beach. Folks with 4WD vehicles took the challenge of crossing a bar leading to a sandbank and enjoyed a days fishing.

The trains. Port Hedland has its name in the Guinness Book of Records. The world's longest trains ply between here and an inland production centre with iron ore. The 'record breaker' was 7 kilometres long, had eight engines and only one driver. However even on a day to day basis, trains regularly exceed 3 kilometres and the front of the train is out of sight whilst the trucks are still passing under the bridge.

Such is the interest in these monsters, that the council have provided a covered lookout on a bridge directly over the track. We made the trip and found more than just trains!!!

The fly-masks were a blessing and the dots on my t-shirt are not pattern!

Sharing our campsite was a bright red touring bus, the like of which we had never seen before. It is a 24 berth Mercedes unit operated by Rotel (a contraction of Rolling Hostel), a German touring company. Passengers and operators seemed to work in co-operation to provide meals and adjust the bus; awnings, staircases etc were all fitted swiftly and efficiently.

It has become custom for me to close with a sunset on the town, so, no exception here is the offering from Port Hedland.

Broome - a Pearling Town

2009-10-18T09:00:00.014+13:00

In 1883 Broome was decreed to be a township by Sir Frederick Napier Broome, then Governor of Western Australia. Ironically the Governor didn't want to be associated with the new "town", which at that time wasn't much more than a few struggling camps of pearl fishermen.

The town is on a peninsula that runs roughly north/south and therefore has an east beach (Roebuck Bay) and a west beach (Cable Beach). We were amazed to see the beaches populated by 4WD vehicles.

At the south-western extremity of the peninsula Gantheaume Point has two major attractions; dinosaur footprints dating from the Cretaceous Period 130 million years ago. They are only visible at low water stages of tide, but checking tide times is no challenge to us seasoned sailors, so we were there searching at the appointed hour, which happened to be around sunset.

They took a little finding, no 'idiot' markers or boardwalks here, but they were fairly plentiful and quite dinstinct.

The second point of interest focusses on the beautiful red rock cliffs. So many vantage points and so many photos. This is just one as a sample.

The Sun Pictures 'garden cinema' is a wonderful tourist attraction. Billed as the oldest garden cinema in the world, it was a major focal point in Luhman's recent epic; 'Australia'. For in this cinema our child hero sees the Wizard of Oz.

The auditorium is partly covered and partly open air. This is the view from inside.

A view of the inside shows plenty of memorabilia of 'Australia'. You can Nicole and Hugh in classic pose on the left.

The seats were actually very comfortable as we found when we visited in the evening. Great fun sitting in the warm evening temperature to watch a film as the stars appear over your head. Yes, I know it becomes much hotter and stickier in the wet season but for us it was a perfect evening. Apologies for the picture quality, but I felt the next photo had an 'atmosphere' which suited the emporium.

The town has an interesting history based around the exploits of the men and women who developed the pearling industry, starting with the harvesting of oysters for mother of pearl in the 1880's to the current major cultured pearl farming enterprises. The riches from the pearl beds did not come cheaply, and the town's Japanese cemetery is the resting place of 919 Japanese divers who lost their lives working in the industry. Many more were lost at sea therefore the exact number of deaths is unknown.

Streeter's Jetty was built to enable the old pearling vessels to moor and off-load crew, equipment and cargo. Still in private ownership, it fell into disuse as the pearling industry changed and began to decay. The local shire council bought the jetty and now has a restoration programme.

Another relic from those pearling days is now the internationally acclaimed Short Street Gallery of Indigenous art. It was built over 100 years ago and is the last remaining house with a wind tunnel. It is an important part of the Malay and Japanese contribution to the pearling industry in Broome.

In a prominent position is the statue of a diver. We imagined pearl divers clad only in a loincloth and able to stay submerged for minutes on end. That was in fact the situation at first, but the shallow waters were soon cleaned out of Pinctada Maxima (the pearl oyster). This led to the end of the local divers services and the introduction of 'hard hat' diving. Divers from Japan and Malasia arrived and as productivity became an essential feature, this more protective type of deep sea kit was used, allowing the worker to collect far more oysters per hour.

The following shot is just a typical scene which is replicated in many towns that we have visited. In a way it is reminiscent of the Caribbean. The local peoples gain cover from the sunshine under trees and quite large groups seem content to chat whilst sitting on the grass.

Roebuck Bay contains a sunken armada of historic flying boats from World War II. They were all sunk in a matter of minutes of each other on 3 March 1942 by Japanese action. The guide book says that they can be reached on foot at extra low tide. Such an event we discovered was at the crack of dawn, whoopee ...but one has to make the effort.

We woke at 4:30 to find thick fog. But we found the beach ok and so did scores of other tourists, a high percentage of whom were Japanese. It was a long walk out to the wrecks and the human trail reached out into the mist.

The wrecks were clearly recognisable and there was time for a few photos before the return trip. At this point the mist descended even more thickly making it impossible to see the land and the gaggle of fellow tourists had long since thinned out. We ended up a little off course when we eventually hit land, but it was a fun exercise.

The old lockup was a charming building.

Matso's Store got its name from Broome City councillor Phillip Matsumoto who ran a grocery store and school tuck-shop in the premises from 1978 to 1985 and who, as the son of Japanese diver Kakio Matsumoto and his Aboriginal wife Helena, was of the second generation of Broome's mixed ethnic population. It is now a very attractive pub/restaurant.

Tourism began to emerge as an important business for the town in the early 1900's. Since when Broome has been a destination for visitors (both local and international) attracted by its warm winter climate, diverse cultural history and white sandy beaches. A concentrated effort led by Lord Alistair McAlpine to resurrect the historical charm of the town led to restoration of many of the town's old buildings and a sound plan for Broome's future.

A view of one the white sandy beaches (looking a tad golden in the late afternoon light) - with a Boab tree. Idyllic isn't it?

In 1889, the simultaneous opening of the privately owned Cable Station and a Government owned telegraph station put Broome in direct communication with Asia, Britain and cities throughout Australia.

The year 1914 was particularly bad for Broome because the outbreak of war ruined the European market for pearl shell. When conditions returned to normal after the war, the buildings the government used for justice purposes were no longer adequate and the Cable Station was acquired for conversion to a courthouse.

It is an elegant building, redolent of an age of style and gentility.

The tourist shop and restaurant area by comparison is bright, gaudy and far more cheaply constructed.

Broome is also home to the 'staircase to the Moon'. Sadly, not for us. It's last appearance this year was about two weeks prior to our arrival, so in compensation, here is a sunset scene.

On the Gibb River Road

2009-10-16T09:00:00.002+13:00

On our arrival at Derby, we attempted to sign up for a trip to the popular Windjana Gorge and Tunnel Creek. They are both accessible only via unmade, dirt roads and therefore unsuitable for our trusty Ford Falcon saloon. Sadly, we were told that owing to a shortage of drivers, the tours were suspended for the coming week at least. After a little lateral thinking we came up with the idea of renting a 4WD vehicle and driving ourselves. Even this proved a little tricky (Derby is a relatively small town) but eventually we did secure the use of a Toyota Landcruiser. Thus did we this we find ourselves driving the legendary Gibb River Road.

This highway is mostly dirt but is heavily used by road trains and adventurous travellers. It links the Kimberly just outside Derby with Kununurra a distance of nearly 700 kilometres.

Our first 50 or so kilometres were somewhat tame bitumen, but then we dropped onto the red dirt and immediately we saw a huge cloud of dust which seemed to occupy the entire width of road - and it was bowling towards us at a rate of knots. I pulled into the side of the road and watched as Liz swung into action and snapped this wonderful shot of a 4-trailer road train in all its glory.

Our Gibb River Road experience was fairly short lived however, as after 100 kilometres we swung onto a dirt link road leading to Windjana Gorge and Tunnel Creek.

Tunnel Creek is the furthest point and we had been advised to visit that first. This meant passing by Windjana, but we would soon return.

A view of Tunnel Creek. The walking track leads underground and requires one to do a little paddling to get to the end of the track. We trod through the water gingerly as we were warned that freshwater crocs do sometimes venture in the creek. They don't normally attack humans (we were also told that) but don't annoy them.

Our first view of the entranceway to Windjana Gorge.

The gorge was formed by the Lennard River having eroded away a 3.5 kilometres section of the Napier Range. The range was formed over 300 million years ago and is composed of Devonian limestone. The gorge is over 100m wide and the walls are between 30 metres and 10 metres in height.

The pathway along the gorge however takes a shady route alongside the Lennard River. It was a very hot day and we were extremely grateful for the cover provided by the trees.

At one point our guide notes indicated some easily visible fossilised remains of what was clearly a sea creature.

In places the cover was absent, but the bonus was that the revealed views were wonderful.

Along much of the way we could hear and see (and smell) bats. Millions of them squabbling and flying across the water to fresh nesting places.

Boab trees were along side the river near to the end of the walking track...

...which eventually opened into a totally unshaded sandy area. At this point, although not quite at the end of the walk we re-traced our steps.

Which soon gave a bonus in the form of two beautiful Broglas feeding in the shallow river.

Also lying motionless was this little freshwater crocodile. We made the assumption that he was waiting for one of the bats to suffer an error of judgement and fall into the water.

A view of our transport on a typical stretch of the road near Windjana.

Back in Derby. The sun sets behind a silhouette of a Boab tree.

Derby - pronounced Derby

2009-10-14T09:00:00.003+13:00

...to rhyme with Kirby. We don't know why,as it was founded in 1883 to serve a pastoral district and was named after Edward Henry Stanley, 15th Earl of Derby, who was then Secretary of State for the Colonies. But that's the way it is.

Outside the town is the famous Boab Tree Prison. It has a girth of 14 metres and a doorway 1 metre wide and 2 metres high. Now fenced off as you can see, but it was once used as a holding prison for local indigenous people captured by the police.

Our campsite was in the town and on our first morning there we heard the unlikely call of a peacock, but then we saw the source of the noise. Quite a stunning bird, parading around in full display.

The local cemetery had several 'occupants' of interest, but to us one of the most unusual features was the termite mounds that appeared everywhere, some even embracing the grave areas.

The town gaol was retained as an historic building of interest and certainly the information panels associated with it made startling reading. They were tough times and the division between the whites and the indigenous blacks was as extreme here as anywhere.

Myall's Bore, was originally sunk in 1912 to a depth of 322 metres. The daily flow of water was 315 000 litres. The bore was capped in 1980. Beside the bore stands a huge 120 metre long cattle trough which was built in about 1920 and is reputed to be the longest in the southern hemisphere. It is claimed, that when the trough was in use 1000 head of cattle could be watered at one time.

Near by to the bore is Frosty's Pool which was named to mark the initiative of platoon member Charles L V Frost of the Third General Transport Company. It was built in 1944 as a bathing area for troops stationed in the area during the Second World War. This is one of the few remaining reminders of those years in the town.

During World War II, Derby was bombed by Japanese planes, mainly because it had an air base and a jetty that were used by Australian forces. Today however, as the jetty reaches out to the west it is a natural gathering spot for sunset admirers. Including us of course.

Not forgetting the beach running alongside the jetty area.

Crossing the Mighty Fitzroy

2009-10-11T09:00:00.000+13:00

Fitzroy Crossing

Fitzroy Crossing is a small town in the Kimberley region of Western Australia, 300 km west of Halls Creek.

The town was gazetted in 1975, but had been shown on maps as early as 1903. It is 114 metres above sea level and is surrounded by the vast floodplains of the Fitzroy River. The current population in 2006 of the Fitzroy Crossing area is approximately 1,500, about 60% of whom are Indigenous Australians. Cattle stations are the main economic occupation.

Just before the town we turned off the main road into a large campsite. We found a pitch that promised to offer some shade. Then having pitched our tent, we did a little exploration of our surroundings and came to the bank of the Fitzroy River. We were amazed by the impression of drought.

One of the main attractions in the area is Geiki Gorge. Called Darngku by the indigenous peoples, but for some reason, the European name is the most used. This is flood country and when it comes, the water volume is huge. The picture here shows the water levels in exceptional years.
We opted for a morning cruise up the gorge on an open boat (no sun covers) - managed to grab the front seats, which was a bonus for uncluttered photography then sat back to watch the scenery. The rock formations are spectacular.

Along the river bank we spotted a Mitchell's Water Monitor. An impressive creature at about 1 metre in length.
Also a saltwater crocodile.
A particularly attractive feature are the white bases to the cliffs.
Contrasting with the greenish water.
This fellow relaxing in a very 'human' pose is called a Euro. Neither Liz nor I had heard of it before. It is of course simply a species of 'roo. But is large, strong and lives in rocky areas.
After the cruise we drove to see the 'old' Fitzroy Crossing.

Fitzroy Crossing was a creation of necessity; early settlers to the Kimberley needed a place to ford the mighty Fitzroy River. The old crossing was the shortest and safest route. Focus shifted from the original townsite of Fitzroy Crossing when a modern stilted bridge was built downstream in 1974.
The crossing the dry season.Located on the riverbank just beyond the reach of major flood waters, the old town was built at a place suitable for crossing the river. Still standing in the old town is the original causeway crossing (above), the former post office (now backpacker accommodation) and the police station below.

Our friendly ranger urged us to walk the gorge just before sunset to appreciate the full beauty of the rock colours. Always up for a walk, we did just that. And he was right!

As you can see.

Hall's Creek - Gold Rush Country

2009-10-10T09:00:00.006+13:00

Dawn on the morning leaving the campsite at Kununurra, Liz spotted the same view as the sunset in the last entry but with light from the opposite horizon.

Leaving Kununurra and heading South and slightly West once more the landscape is stunning and typically Kimberley.
We knew this to be cattle country, but we didn't expect the beef to look like this.We pass places with names that spring from stories about the outback. Texas Downs and the one shown below - Alice Downs. We were told that both these stations are completely cut off during the wet season, accessible only by air. Some of these stations cover areas the size of small countries. And this is the entrance! (or one of the entrances)
We approach Hall's Creek. Most Australian towns have a sign showing the name, however some are more colourful than others. We liked Hall's Creek's sign.

There was only one campsite, so we pitched our tent and had a short look around. We went a little further afield the following morning and discovered more about the town's history.

Hall's Creek is the product of gold discovery. It was moved 12 km west from its original location in 1949 due to a new Great Northern Highway being constructed, which did not follow the route of the old Duncan Road. Sadly it was not possible to visit the old town by our car. It would have been the end of the town, if it had not moved to its current location. Named after Charles Hall who in 1885 found the alluvial gold that led to the Kimberley gold rush, the first gold rush in Western Australia. Today some gold mining is still carried out by local prospectors, however large-scale mining has ceased.

Policing was always an essential element of outback life and men drawn from the indigenous community were employed as Trackers. An original tracker's hut is shown below. It is maintained as an historic building of interest.
Tracker Jack Jugarie became a legend and a statue stands in his honour in the town.
These remote townships have many tales of heroic or amazing exploits. The statue of Russian Jack (which stands outside the town’s shire office) depicts Jack carrying his friend in a wheelbarrow. The legendary story tells that Jack, a gold miner, pushed a gravely ill fellow miner 300 kilometres in his wheelbarrow.

His determination to get him to the nearest medical facility in Wyndham made him a hero amongst his fellow miners during the 1885 gold rush.

We feel that this picture typifies the colours and harshness of the environment in this part of the country. The advice on the roadsign probably goes without saying.
A turn off the main highway to a rest stop also yielded a fine lookout. The road can be seen passing through a range of colours from red and yellow rocks to blue/grey grasses. A beauty of its own. We stopped here for lunch, but not for long. The flies were very persistent and cunning too. They tried to disguise themselves as grain seeds in our sandwich rolls. Yuk.

Mirima - a small cousin of the Bungle Bungles

2009-10-09T09:00:00.000+13:00

Mirima has a distinct resemblance to the famous Bungle Bungles. The stripey red and grey strata show perhaps a little less contrast and certainly the mounts are lower, but the link in unmistakeable. They are however just a stones throw away from the town, so visiting is much easier.

The start of the trail.
A view along the approaches.Rich colours and beautiful textures.

An unusual formation on one of the smaller connected peaks.

The view from the top over the township of Kununurra.

Also from the summit, a look across the nearby peaks.

On the return trek - a view down into the valley.
Near the entrance to the Park a 'twin' Boab tree. Do they look like a couple dancing to you?
As the sun goes down, a small mountain formation can be seen that is called 'the Buddha' locally.
But back at the camping site, the actual sunset can be quite stunning. The flecks in the sky are bats which fill the air with their squeaking around this time.

A trip North to Wyndham

2009-10-07T19:00:00.012+13:00

Leaving Kununurra, we were fascinated by the Boab Tree murals. They are captured in various scenes of play and human-like poses.

Wyndham lies just under 100 kms from Kununurra. It is the oldest and northernmost town in the Kimberley region of Western Australia. It was established in 1885 as a result of a gold rush at Halls Creek, and it is now a port and service centre for the east Kimberley with a population of 800.

We decided to make the trip. There is so much history in the far reaches of Australia and always the scenery is incredible. As with these mountains.
Wyndham is located at the west arm of Cambridge Gulf, an inlet of Joseph Bonaparte Gulf of the Timor Sea. Part of the town is separated by a causeway and it was at the entrance that we saw these signs. They bring home to you the dangers that are part of life in these climes.

A boat tied in the Gulf.
In the town there is a monster statue (or is it a model) of a salt water crocodile. Look carefully, there are two very similar tourists surveying the croc.
Tucked away in the area of a campsite is a Boab tree which is claimed to be the oldest of its kind.
Street models such as these are a wonderful reminder of the role played by men from so many different nations. The camel drivers performed a valuable function in this climate and arid land.
A couple of the historic shops are retained as a reminder of the past.
As are some of the machines that were used. The patina on this one was superb.
A business for sale - now that's an opportunity!
On a hill near the outskirts of town is a set of statues to the original peoples who lived on the land before the arrival of the white man. A poignant scene which (although not included in this shot) included a kangaroo and a dingo.

The Bungle Bungles

2009-10-06T09:00:00.031+13:00

An event we have been looking forward to for some time is a visit to the Bungle Bungles in the Purnululu National Park.

Purnululu National Park and specifically the Bungle Bungle Ranges were discovered by white men only in the 1980's. Ground access into the extremely remote range proved nearly impossible and attempts establish a trail were nearly abandoned.

Clearly visible from the air, but without tracks or trails, it took the pioneering ingenuity of an East Kimberley family man; a spotter plane; sacks of flour; lots of patience and a four wheel drive vehicle to find a reasonable and safe entry into the wonders of the Bungle Bungle Range.

The spotter plane flew over the area carrying sacks of flour, which were systematically thrown out from the aircraft to mark the most accessible route into the Bungle Bungles. The 4WD vehicle followed the white dusty flour trail through the brilliant red earth and found a way into this splendid natural creation. The track is still only possible in a 4WD vehicle.

Our trip started at 5:30am when we were collected from the Camping Park by minibus and taken to the airport. After sign-in and introduction we were shown onto a small Cessna aircraft for the 45 minute flight.The outward journey was slightly hazy. But it was possible to get a good impression of the grandness of the Ord River Dam project as well as a preview of the Kimberley Diamond Mines and of course the Bungle Bungles themselves.

A quick shot of our transport on the strip in the National Park.

We met our guide/ranger, Stacey and were soon on board a 4-wheel drive vehicle, speeding off to the walking trail.

The trail was hot and dusty, but Stacey was a mine of interesting information and before long the famous beehive domes came into view and the start of the trail - complete with conveniences! Are these the original 'rooms with a view'?
Another aspect.
Meeting the flood path in Picaninny Gorge.
The domes are so photogenic, that I'm afraid we just kept snapping.
The next point of interest was Cathedral Gorge. The photo below looks out from the cathedral where you can see some members of our party who are standing in the entrance.
The pathway out of the Cathedral into the Gorge.
In the afternoon we drove to Echidna Chasm. Not beehives here - just amazing rock formations.
Approaching the Chasm, the cliffs close in an get steeper.
An impressive lizard seen on the side of the track. He was about 2 feet long.
And finally, Echidna Chasm complete with a back view of Stacey lugging a large thermos of cool water for her 'charges'.
A bustard crosses our vehicle's path on the journey back to camp.
Aerial view of the Kimberley Diamond mine.

A sunset return to Kununurra.

Ivanhoe Crossing

2009-10-05T09:00:00.001+13:00

Our first stop in Western Australia, Kununurra. A lively town, relatively small, but with good facilities; banks, supermarket, library etc.

The above is an overview of Kununurra.

The Ivanhoe Crossing is a concrete causeway over the Ord River, near to the Ivanhoe Station Homestead, north of Kununurra. It was originally part of the main road through to Wyndham.

Since the start of the Ord irrigation project in the 1960s, the river now flows all year round, making the crossing impassable during the wet season when the river level is higher.

It is a popular spot for barramundi fishing and picnicking. Swimming and standing on the crossing to fish are not recommended due to the presence of salt water crocodiles.

One of the attractions of Kununurra is the oldest rum distillery in Western Australia.

We enrolled for a guided tour.

...and were instructed on the processes from start to finish.

The barrels
The bottles
..and the logo!

Across the Border

2009-10-04T09:00:00.004+13:00

The journey from Timber Creek in Northern Territory to Kununurra in Western Australia was full of natural beauty.

The mighty Victoria River with its tinged shallows.

and many Bridges.

The Boab trees. Some of colossal size.

Entering Western Australia. Prepare to handover your fruit and veg.

Off the main highway to see the Ord River dam. The flooded area is vast.

Nearby, we visit the (re-sited due to the dam project) homestead of the Durack family. In the grounds - a frilled lizard, with his frill in repose mode.

and also the bower created by the Bower bird to attract or impress his prospective mate.

On the return to the main highway, Kapok trees were flowering, fruiting and seeding by the roadside.

Timber Creek - last stop in the Territory

2009-10-03T09:00:00.005+13:00

A long hot road extends from Katherine, west towards Timber Creek.

We think it had a beauty of its own, as the mesa-like mountains typical of the Kimberley region start to take shape on the horizon.
All set up in our site at Timber Creek. A charming location, but just down the slope from our tent...
...were these fellows.

The camp site owners arrange a 5.0pm feeding time each evening. One of the workers dangles chunks of raw meat from a pole and line and the crocs leap out of the water to snap the morsels. The good thing is that they are fresh water crocs. 'Freshies' are not supposed to be dangerous to humans - we hope that they have signed up to this deal.

Only a one night stop here. Tomorrow we set off to cross the border into Western Australia. But before we leave the town; they have an historic site related to its police presence there.

Note the reference to Trackers on the plaque. Men from the local indigenous peoples were employed to great effect in this capacity and we found reference to individuals who became legends in their task.

The structure behind the picturesque Boab tree is the frame of a police tent. They had no solid buildings at first, the climate ranges from hot to inferno - so no need for the warmth provided by walls. Pictures showed canvas hung between the uprights and roof.

A basic holding cell.

This rather more substantial building was the police station until more recently.

A return to Katherine

2009-10-02T09:00:00.004+13:00

Katherine is a hub. We came here on our way north and we need to pass through once again to drive west. This time we stayed on the other side of town in a very pleasant site. The picture shows our idea of 'going back to basics'.

We were a tiny bit late to see the famed Ghan arriving at the station, all we managed to photograph was the name plate whilst it was stationary. We hae high hopes of catching a glimpse further down the line though, as it departs Katherine heading to Darwin.

A little patient wait by the roadside on the track leading north from Katherine was rewarded by a view of the Ghan powering north.

From Wheat Plains to Pinnacles

2009-09-30T09:00:00.013+13:00

Leaving Mingenew we continue inland through vast grain paddocks and reach the town of Morewa and then on to Perenjori for our lunch stop. However it is Saturday and Perenjori with its Folk Museum is closed by the time we arrive. Like virtually all towns in Australia Perenjori has a picnic site, excellent loos and interesting murals.

It also has another Mgr. Hawes church. From the outside this is a far more simple design and sadly we cannot view inside.

On through the wheat country to Carnamah fast asleep in the Saturday afternoon sunshine and with another Mgr. Hawes church, more murals..

...and the statue of the Grain Man lifting the grain sacks in the old fashioned way.

The scarlet verticordia is the shire emblem.

Enroute are the Yarra yarra salt lakes glowing pink and red in the afternoon sunlight and illustrating how easily the land turns from fertile to hostile.

Three Springs was next with its giant grain silos,...

...more murals and shops which are open. We make the wrong descision and by the time we have taken our pictures and turned the car around the garage has closed. Aaargh! Still the little shop nearby is still open so we can at least have an icecream before we really do have to stop dawdling and cover the miles to tonight's camp site at Jurien Bay.

Oh well, just one last diversion to the nearby talc mines - the largest in Australia - and their multi coloured spoil heaps. As a recommended visitor attraction we think RTZ could make a viewing platform.

In this shot, we liked the pastoral tranquility as the sheep huddle under the only shade for miles around.

Well OK we have to make time but we could not run this skink over and he certainly did not want to move out of our way. When Graham tried to 'encourage' him he shot out his deep purple tongue and looked quite menacing though actually he has to be one of the few creatures in Australia that does not want to bite, scratch or poison you. Usually they are in pairs and look like a couple of pensioners out for a walk together strolling slowly across the road until you stop the car for a photo when they disappear into the undergrowth.

We arrive at Jurien Bay camp site just before 6pm and manage to secure the last camp site. Back on the coast the wind is still blowing but we are in a corner with tall fencing on two sides and very sheltered. Phew thats a relief. One night sleeping in the car was quite enough.

Next morning we drive to the little town of Cervantes, just too far for us to reach yesterday and the gateway to the Pinnacles. First though we have more stromatolites. We thought the creatures were only at Hamelin Pool but some live here too in Lake Thetis. The car is not as old geologically but in car terms is definitely elderly.

The local authority has created a easy walkway to view the stromatolites and the lake contains lots of bird life too but we must not forget that our first objective was the Pinnacles or Nambung National Park.

'Spectacular' is the only way to describe the sight of these pillars covering the ground as far as the eye can see in all directions. Putting to back of our minds visions of Billy Connelly skipping naked between the same pillars (though you cannot loose it completely) we explore - fully clothed. You can drive round the park and we are assured that the sandy road is fit for all vehicles. Lets hope so as it is a one way circuit. There are plenty of stopping places and a couple raised viewing points. In fact we do the circuit twice as the late afternoon light makes for interesting shadows. Once again the size of the area takes us by surprise though we should be used to it by now. Australia is a very big country.

Ok... perhaps just a little tom-foolery

North of Jurien Bay are the little fishing and holiday towns Leeman, known as 'Screamin Leeman' which is a a popular surfing bay and Green Head.

The nearby Grigson Lookout is named after the family who first farmed here and the fourth generation are still living and working here. At nearly 30m above sea level the limestone cairn here was built in 1875 as a marker for a coastal land survey between Perth and Geraldton. The nearby farmland was surveyed according to its relation to the cairn or 'big station'.

The sand dunes seen in the following picture are termed 'Dynamic Dunes' and with the action of the prevailing winds they 'walk' about 20 metres per year stabilising the undergrowth as they go.

In and Around Bolgart

2009-09-30T09:00:00.012+13:00

Leaving Jurian Bay and the Pinnacles, there was a temptation to simply rush down to Perth. It was obviously the next big highlight on our trip, but there wasn't a rush and Western Australia is far too good to skimp.

Banksias are a real feature of this region of Australia. There are many many types and varieties of the plant, we would later discover the size of the diversity when we visited Perth's botanical gardens. However, here is just a sample:

We did make an abortive attempt to visit New Norcia, an historic area. However a major fire prevented us from getting through on this occasion.

This wheat country and the various ways that the hay and grain are harvested provide photo opportunities.

Town murals - a regular and welcome feature.

Monsters of the highway! The pulling end of a Road Train.

An interesting building design.

One of Australias largest wind farms, Emu Downs Wind Farm is a $180 million joint venture project between Griffin Energy and Queensland’s Stanwell Corporation. Emu Downs Wind Farm has been in operation since 2006 to deliver clean, green energy to Western Australia. It is one of Western Australia’s largest green energy initiatives.

Located 30 kilometres east of Cervantes, approximately 200 kilometres north of Perth, Emu Downs Wind Farm makes use of innovative wind powered turbine technology with the capacity to produce 80 Megawatts of power at peak; and the capacity to supply 50,000 homes per year. Emu Downs Wind Farm’s coastal location is a prime site for utilising wind to produce electricity.

Not rolls this time ...rectangles!

...and now the actual grain.

The magnificent Bolgart Hotel, a central feature of the town.

And now, Bolgart's little joke on the famous Perth Bell Tower that overlooks the Swan River.

Two shots, examples of the wildflowers that are so prolific and so beautiful in these parts.

New Norcia, the only monastic town in Australia.

The town of New Norcia has buildings in a Spanish style of architecture, along with some other historical sites.

On 1 March 1846, a Benedictine mission to the local aborigines was started about 8 km to the north, led by the two Spanish Benedictines, Rosendo Salvado and Joseph Serra. Within a year the mission was moved to where the town is today, and on 1 March 1847 the foundation stone of the monastery was laid. The place was named New Norcia, after Norcia in Italy, the birthplace of St Benedict. However unlike the Italian Norcia, which is pronounced "nor-chee-a", New Norcia is pronounced "new nor-sia".

Among these are the two old boarding schools, St Ildephonsus' and St Gertrude's (both now used for accommodation and various social functions), the Abbey Church (containing the tomb of Rosendo Salvado), an old mill, a wine press, a hotel, and the monastery itself. Tours of the town are operated daily by the Friends of New Norcia, who also organise the accommodation in the various buildings including the monastery retreat.[2] The Benedictine monks continue to occupy the monastery and are involved with most of the enterprises in the town.

There were also two aboriginal orphanages that housed members of the Stolen Generation; St Mary's (for boys) and St Joseph's (for girls), which closed in the early 1970s. The two buildings still exist. St Mary's is next to St Ildephonsus', and St Joseph's is next to St Gertrude's.

The last Spanish Benedictine monk of New Norcia died on 18 January 2010, aged 99. He continued to prepare the bread for the monks and olive oil almost upon his death.

Territory Wildlife

2009-09-30T09:00:00.011+13:00

On the northern side of Litchfield National Park lies the Territory Wildlife Darwin Park. This involved retracing our steps a little, but the Park is definitely to be seen.

Here is just a sample of the animal highlights.
Jabiru storkFreshwater crocodile
Freshwater whipray
Liz feeding the Archer fish. That jet of water is really very powerful no wonder the flies drop.A grebe seen from belowGraham and a sawfish on opposite sides of the glass
Jacana
Stone curlew
Pignosed turtle
Torres Strait pigeon

The Batchelor Life

2009-09-28T09:00:00.005+13:00

On the road to Litchfield and Batchelor.

'Magnetic' termite mounds are aerodynamic, shaped like an aeroplane wing with the leading edge facing north.

Bathers at Buley

Further downstream is peaceful

Speaks for itself.

Another termite mound, and Liz being silly!

At the Batchelor camping ground, there was a nightly feeding date for the local birds. These Rainbow Lorikeets were always right there.

One man's work. In Batchelor.

This reminded us more of Vietnam really.

Careful where you swim!

The Journey to Litchfield

2009-09-27T09:00:00.005+13:00

This is a 'pre-entry'. A bit of a departure from the normal blog; the pictures are first to be chosen, then ordering, a bit of narrative etc. But it occurred to me that at least the images would be there to view if I put them on without narrative.

The text will follow.

Big termite mound and Graham being silly.
View from the Info Centre 'Window on the Wetlands'.
The 'centre' itself.
A lovely name.
Enrance to the nature trail.
View from the car.
A croc trap.

A croc farm. But some interesting spelling.

The dreaded cane toad.

Bardedjilidji - Let's call it 'The Rock Walk'

2009-09-26T09:00:00.015+12:00

With the heat that comes as the sun rises in the sky, it's good to get any energetic projects under way as early as possible. We set off for the Rock Walk in good time.

Then, arriving at the walk, I confess the flies had got the better of me and I succumbed to the 'veil'. I offered the flies a truce; they could have my arms and legs even my neck. But entry into nose, eyes and mouth were forbidden. They took no notice at all - so the veil came out. Peace at last.

Lots of rocks. Sorry, you have to see them.

At the end of the walk there was a tranquil little billabong.

Onwards then to Mamukala flood plain where there is an amazing bird hide. The first thing that caught the eye was a line of ducks - it was as if they were trawling for food, but we know they don't do that.

Magpie Geese by the thousand... the odd Jacana

...Pied Stilts, and many more.

Returning to the camp site. We found what we presumed to be a family of Stone Curlew seeking a tiny bit of shade under some foliage near to our tent.

Jabiru in Kakadu National Park

2009-09-23T09:00:00.014+12:00

Jabiru is a small town in the north of Kakadu National Park and our visit here naturally divides into sections as there are recommended sites of interest which of course we visited.

Nourlangie

The first site was Nourlangie which was on our route from Cooinda to Jabiru. Famous for Aboriginal stone art but also boasting some beautiful scenery.
After the rock art, a short climb to some wonderful scenery.

We revisited Nourlangie a couple of days later and saw a couple more significant rock paintings, most notably the ship.

This one is more traditional.
But now for the veil!
Does this convey to you the level of fly infestation that exists around here? Some of us are tough however and just keep wafting. The 'Aussie salute' they call it.

Ubirr

Another site famous for rock painting. This was our first exposure to the 'skeleton' technique. You can spot in some of the pictures, that the animals depicted show their skeletons picked out on their profiles. Interesting.

A marked trail led to this vantage point. It was the lushness and green-ness of the plains area that amazed us.

The Border Store is what the name says. It lies on the border with Arnhemland, an area owned and occupied solely by the local indigenous people. Everyone else must have a permit to enter.

Cahill's Crossing is the actual border and is 'crossable' at modest states of tide...

but some take more chances than others!

Also at high water, the fish make a desparate bid to swim downstream and the opportunists lie in wait.

This fellow sat for many minutes with his nose against the overfalls.