The Perilous Sands of Wharton Bay

That was a very straight road. Wasn't that road straight kids? I've never seen such a straight road. How can they make such a straight road? That was such a straight road, oh, hang on, bend coming up. Pandemonium ensues in the back seat as we ease around the slightest of left hand turns. This is a straight road too isn't it Dad?

Straight Road

Tadpoling

I was so happy to be off the Nullabor. Ned probably suffered more than he should have when we discovered he had left his fleece at the skatepark in Norseman. Meant 25 minutes more of straight road. But it's done with now, tick. We'd had a great night camping at Walkers Rocks with the Lintons. After capturing the local population of geckos, the kids found the local stagnant pond and caught 120 tadpoles. Milo around a campfire made the night perfect.

Ollie at top Frenchmans Peak

Ned holding up Frenchmans Peak!

The next morning we headed off early to Esperance. On arrival, all of our plans to head out and camp at Cape le Grand were thrown into disarray by the discovery that it was the LabourDay long weekend in Western Australia. I was too stuffed to care about the workers, especially now that I'm not one, so we decided not to fight them, and locked in for 7 days for the price of 6 instead.

Not a bad decision in retrospect. Esperance is a completely unappealing place in terms of the town. It's beaches however, when it's not windy, are spectacular. We were only a half hour away from the Cape, and Lucky Bay which, the locals are proud to tell you, “is the whoitest beech in the wurld. It's been proven by soyintists n' stuff”. No local actually told me this, but I read it in a brochure, and if any of the locals could read...harsh but their library had the most discouraging system of cataloguing books I have ever seen. Mr Dewey obviously didn't make it down here.

We spent a couple of days lazing on Twilight Beach. There is a big rock 100 metres off shore. Locals climb to the top then leap off into the water 30 or so metres below. Ned, and I jumped off a lower ledge, which in addition to the fact that we were reading on the beach further separated us from the pack. Ivy was even smarter. She swam out, but didn't jump.

Yesterday we decided we were missing the Lintons so much, that we'd drive out to the Duke of Orleans bay and visit them. Encouraged by a recent sand driving expedition to Cape le Grand to rescue Ned's wetsuit from a rock that he had not left it on, we hit the beach again following a chain of 4WD's carrying surfboards. We didn't stop to surf, instead raced up Frenchmans Peak. Ollie has just finished another book about Everest, so the chance to practice some of his newly discovered rock climbing skills was too good to resist.

Little did I know at the time, the epic nature the rest of the day would assume. So epic in fact, that prose can not do it justice. Instead I have composed an poem entitled “The Perils of Wharton Bay”.

PS Tattoo Dude update. He made it to Esperance! Ned and Ivy toured his Winnebago after Abbie invited herself in! The legend grows.

"The Perilous Sands of Wharton Bay"

Twas twice as hot as Hades, when we ventured to Wharton Bay.

The Disco was overloaded, but sure and ready for the fray.

Lintons came from everywhere, Captain Nick said she'll be right,

I dialled up sand, put her in low range, and even raised her height.

Over the sand, both soft and hard, the Disco thundered through.

Locals gaped with pegless mouths, as if they thought I had a clue.

We found our spot, we all spilled out, and lay upon the sand.

The water was so very clear, fishing glory close at hand.

Zach and Ned cornered several crabs, Rosie speared a flattie,

Sara went off snorkelling, fish were hooked by Mattie.

That'll do, it's time to go, throw your bait off to the seagull.

Load that Disco to the gills, why walk when you can diesel.

The first part back was joyous, we were singing oh so loud.

Tua would have been nervous, but Adrian oh so proud.

I had scouted out our route home a little earlier on,

Except of course the last bit, where the regulars had gone.

I gunned her up that final slope of churned up sand and grit.

The wheels spun, the Disco groaned, then sank into the shit.

We all piled out to have a look, my hands went to my head.

The wheel hubs were buried, if the tide comes in we're dead.

As water flows around a rock, a solution was at hand.

Nick threw himself to digging, perhaps a guilty man.

He lifted rocks like Atlas, a path slowly appeared.

Ollie stood and watched, as I threw her into gear.

The Disco seemed to know, that it was now or never.

She rose up to the challenge and I pulled myself together.

The Bridgestones bit, my God we're saved, the Disco danced away,

She may look like an elephant, but she'll not be Neptune's prey.

The victory feast was massive, as a victory feast should be.

Wine and spuds and damper, fresh fish pulled from the sea.

But I was quiet and pensive, aware that I had made,

An error to have doubted, the sands of Wharton Bay.