Blue Sky Mining in Gorge(ous) Country

It wasn’t that we’d overstayed our welcome, far from it. Exmouth and Cape Range had been fabulous to us. Starting with whale sharks, with turtles, reef sharks, coral and wallabies in between, and good surf right at the death-knock. Oli even got BOG in his last game for the Exmouth Eagles. (Sam, you’ll be relieved to know that contract negotiations fell down. Something to do with the price of rent, the quality of local drinking water, and parents not wishing to work in the mines.) No, it was more that it was time to get moving again.

Ivy and Summer picking flowers

We decided against the evening departure after a local ranger told me two of his mates had been seriously injured when they’d collided with cows after dark. We got away at 7:15, which should be noted, was 15 minutes after the Lintons. The final exit from Exmouth was further delayed due to the need to take on more water from the fish cleaning table next to the old US naval communications base. Apparently their old de-salination plant is still producing better quality water than you can get in town. Gotta love the Yanks.

We arrived in Karajini 8 hours later, feeling pretty tired, but pretty perky really. Van got reverse parked centimetre perfect. Three days later and I’m still admiring its position in the spot as I step out for my morning ablutions! The long drive did mean that our first morning was a write off. Cups of tea, coffee and books (Keith Richards bio for me), and a little home work for the kids. Peter and Jo who we’d met in Coral Bay were next door, so Ivy and Summer got up to no good. The boys weren’t to be out done, plastering themselves in mud with Jo’s urging.



Spider Walk

They needed a bath; we needed a walk to free us from lethargy. We headed out to Fern Pool. Karajini is in the middle of very valuable iron ore country. No surprise that the BHP boys, Twiggy and Gina want to get their fat fingers on it. Stick a magnetised screwdriver in the ground and it comes up with filings all over it.  The park has been saved in the short term at least because of its fabulous gorges and the water that flows through them. There is however a mine you can see from the top of Mt Bruce, not 30 kms away, so I’m certain they haven’t given up…stay tuned.

The walks aren’t difficult, I did them all in a pair of sandals; but they are all a lot of fun. Some require a bit of rock-climbing and even swimming  to complete, which makes them all the more interesting. For the kids, it was like walking in the best adventure playground ever invented. Ivy and Ned found things to hang off, Oli found things to jump off. Sara found plenty to make her cover her eyes and lookouts to avoid. Not one for heights that girl. She is did swim in every pool even the one that only gets 15 minutes of sun a day, so that’s something.

Oli leaping into Kermit Pool

Circular Pool

To be fair though, Sara’s oft stated mantra to the kids “People die at Karajini you know…” is reasonable.  One rescue a month is done here, and several people die every year in the same places we have been. The difference is usually, but not always, that the people who get in trouble think they are bullet proof. We saw many backpackers climbing rocks they had no right climbing, and it’s not like we didn’t want to follow them, it’s just that we read the signs, we are over 40, and we had heard the story about the SES volunteer who was washed away in a flash flood seconds after the young French girl he’d rescued was winched into a helicopter. 


We’ll probably head off tomorrow (May 23^rd). One thing they’re not good at here is suggesting other things to do once you’ve done the major hikes. We’d asked about overnights, nothing. I think they are scared of the prospect of rescuing more people. I’d like to stay longer, but in the absence of local knowledge, I’ll leave. Shame because the contrasts in the colours of the layered rock, the clear aqua water and the vegetation are spectacular. I do have one job before I go to complete though. The ranger remembers Ivy because she did a good job with her Junior Ranger project getting a cloth badge as did the boys. The difference is that the boys didn’t write their names with ochre on the floor of Dales Gorge. IVY is there in resplendent yellow capital letters! If Ranger Darrell finds that, Ivy will be in the doghouse. She’s asked me to go back tomorrow morning and rub it out. The floor of the gorge will be cold at 6:30, but it will be all mine. I’m looking forward to the walk.

H

Sharks, more sharks, and some Eagles



Sunset at Cape Range with Lintons

Cape Range National Park is on the edge of the Ningaloo Reef. It's from here that we went whale sharking. We stayed in the park, and I managed to get the van in pretty nicely with guidance from Nick Linton after Sara had spat the dummy and decided she was happy with the van on a 45 degree angle. The problem with that is, she doesn't care about the other campers opinions, and reverse parking is a skill all the Greyies comments on as they sit around at night drinking rum and ginger ale. Apparently as I made my eigth attempt, the park ranger was heard to say that I was fish food if I knocked down his fence. Nice little fence it was too, but safe thanks to Nick. Sara enjoyed a cup of tea with Rosie.



Flock of budgies

In the WA parks, volunteer camp hosts stay in the campsites. They are zealous about the bacterial health of the drop dunnies, and make sure that backpackers in Wicked vans pay up. The camp hosts are good people to speak to because they know so much about the area. Patrick and Barbara were our hosts, and they sorted the kids out quickly with the drop dunny talk. They are originally from Zimbabwe, and their accents, plus Patrick's elite commando type bearing immediately made the kids shut up and listen intently.

I liked Patrick. He incorrectly diagnosed me as someone with an acute sense of adventure. Despite his mistake, I was encouraged and made every attempt to live up to his mark. We got up early to hike and see black footed wallabies, and explore remote caves. I paddled out 800 metres off shore to get to a lagoon in between the reefs. I was about to snorkel there when a shark swam underneath the kayak. Adventurous maybe, stupid, no.

Black footed rock wallaby

The snorkelling has been great here. We have all seen lots of sharks, turtles, a plethora of fish, massive sting rays, and coral of every shape and colour. Every bit as good as Coral Bay without the crowds. My sense of adventure kicked in again yesterday and I managed a couple of surfs over a reef I could stand on. All the kids have become adept at snorkelling and duck diving. The Lintons have been camped next to us, which has been fun. Dinners together, the boys in tents a couple of nights under the stars, fishing without significant success, and someone who doesn't get grumpy when two letter words score 37 points for Sara to play scrabble with. Last night we ate a shark that a friend of their's had caught the night before. The best fish Oli and Matt have ever had apparently.

Hunting a touch

We left Cape Range National Park yesterday. Our initial plans had been to head straight for Karajini National Park however the evil fingers of Mr Andrew Demetriou and his plan of worldwide domination via Auskick ensnared us. Last Friday, Ned and Ivy did Auskick, and Oli got to play a game. Ivy never did Auskick in Camberwell, but figured she could mix it with the local lads and she torched them. Well, her kicking needs work, but her ability to listen to the coaches instructions is at an elite level. Ned and Zach were in the same age group, with Zach handing off to Ned who neatly snaffled a goal. They both won the encouragement awards of a sausage and a fruit box drink so it was smiles all round.

The Exmouth Eagles; Oli in back row 4h from left...duh

Oli's game however, was something else. To see that boy in the middle of the pack after the coaches address scream "Go Eagles" was special. He chose Will Schofield's number which was a nice touch, Will having been so good to him in Perth. Oli wore the Exmouth Eagles jumper almost too proudly, and did okay on the back line, landing several heavy tackles. Matt Linton got him a beauty though, absolutely smashing him into the ground. Oli still swears he got the handpass off, although it did look like a throw from where I stood.

They all play again tonight, and then we're off. I got a couple of waves today so I'm happy. We'll put in a big day tomorrow there not being much between here and Karajini. Homework is up to date. Oli is getting a haircut, and there are rumours I might be next. I've got a lot to do though, not sure I'll have time... Written about May 19th.

H

Whale of a Time



Our shark

I was swimming in the bluest of blue water, the sort of blue that only exists in chemically treated toilet bowls, when suddenly the view was interrupted by a bus. Not a real bus, because that would be silly as buses move on roads not over Ningaloo Reef, but a bus that resembled a fish.  A really big fish.  A whale shark.  White dots over its flanks, fat fish swimming in its mouth and long ones hanging off its belly. Eyes that were no bigger than a fifty cent piece dwarfed by a massive head that slowly swayed as it sieved the water for plankton. I smiled, I sang, I danced as I swam as hard as I could to stay alongside it. The whale shark was mine, and it was as if we were surfing on the smoothest wave in the world.

I have wanted to swim with the whale sharks for years. Yesterday we all got our chance. Ivy had had a week of intensive snorkel school, and assured us she was ready because she’s seven now. We were shuttled out to the good ship Ocean Eco by Captain Ken along with an odd i.e. strange assortment of others and the Lintons. The crew was made up of impossibly bubbly and happy people. They were great with the kids and radiated genuine interest in all of them, and us!

Ivy, Oli, Sara & Ned under the sea

Once on board, the kids immediately got stuck into their allotted ration of two cans of soft drink. Noise levels rose in direct proportion with sugar levels until Dave began his whale shark speil; this was why we all had dropped a sizeable sum to be here. We were focussed and prepared to work as a team. Team 2 in fact. We and the Lintons made up one group, with Team 1 being everyone else including the grumpy lady with the very short grey hair and very bad bathers, and the American from Florida who volunteered in her local marine habitat. These two were already making an early running in the race to become the most annoying person on the trip over the age of 10.

Whale sharks are spotted by planes. The pilot radios Captain Ken, who motors off in pursuit. When in the shark’s vicinity, we get ready in our groups, and await Dave’s instructions to get into the water. From this point we were supposed to arrange ourselves in a line parallel to the shark behind Rachel. Rachel was attached to Ivy. I was attached to Ned. Oli was next to Sara. We would then all swim beside the shark in an orderly fashion and observe. Good in theory.

What actually happened was that we all jumped into the water, bunched around Rachel and smacked each other with our flippers as we jostled for the best position. The whale shark loomed into view and it was everyone for themselves. I never knew what happened to Ivy until I got back on the boat. She assured me she saw it. Oli ignored all warnings from Sara and powered off after the shark with his Thorpie in a blender freestyle stroke actually giving him some serious momentum. Sara cruised after Oli, then left him for the shark.  I hung on to Ned…briefly. After that, I figured, he can swim, he’s had lessons, he won’t hink (sink) immediately, and off I went, just me and that big fish.  

We got into the water with three different sharks on five occasions. The restrictions on the time you are allowed to swim with them are quite severe and we used 5 of our allotted 6 swims. Back at the camp that night we quickly found out that comparing experiences opened up a tendency in some to exaggerate. Ron had swum with an 8 metre shark that had almost swallowed him. The fact that Ron would take some swallowing, and admits he swims like a brick is beside the point.  We’d done it, all of us.

Ned and a stingray you can't quite see

Back on board, as we headed back to land, the battle for most annoying shipmate over 10 had hotted up. Corey the grey headed lady had been instructing Ned how to pour cordial, water first apparently. Hillary the American, had stopped swimming with the sharks after the third go so that she could make the most of lunch. Corey won with the clock counting down rapidly when she told Ned off again for showing initiative and defogging his own mask. A new, non-saggy set of bathers would have made a nice prize. Typically however, the Lintons met her the next day and she turned out to be a very well-travelled, interesting (in a weird way) person. This first impressions thing is killing us!

So that was whale sharking. Tick. I’d do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day. I would happily stay here for a long time. We’ve been camping in Cape Range NP outside of Exmouth with the Lintons. Thanks for making us book Matt and Maggie. The stay has been extended so that Ned and Ivy can do Auskick again, and Oli can play another game of footy for the Exmouth Eagles. Once that’s done we move away from the coast for a while, heading to Karajini NP where to Ivy’s disgust, we will do a lot of hiking. For as Muhammed Ali would say, we done swum with de whale sharks, it now be time to run with de ‘roos.

H

 

Porpoise Spit

Three heads and a rock

We've come a long way since we left Freo last week and we're not even halfway to Broome. We moved quickly, which meant we didn't get to stay at some places as long as we'd have liked. The Pinnacles made a great stop despite the torrential rain, with the kids tracking us around the bizarre formations with all the discretion of elephants. Kalbarri National park was beautiful, with a 10k flyblown loop walk punctuated by swims in the river. The sun was coming down as we finished, changing the colour of the rock from a water coloured washed out red, to an acrylic crimson, heavy and deep. We had to move on after one night of camping by a river on an ex-cattle / sheep station now running thousands of goats previously owned by a war-mongering Indian prince whose ex-wife died of AIDS after an affair, and made our way north towards Monkey Mia.

We'd not originally planned to go there. We'd not heard anything good. We'd read the brochures, but the public relations spin had done little to dispell rumours of crowded line ups of tourists all desperate for a glimpse of a dolphin. The two fruitless early morning attempts we'd made in Bunbury to see one up close had not endeared us to these mammals regardless of how intelligent we know they are. It seemed a little...common. But now we were within striking distance, with time on our side. We overnighted illegally at Shell Beach having visited some living rocks at Hamelin Pool. Not surprisingly, the significance of the stromatolites was lost on us, something to do with being the oldest life form on Earth blah, blah, blah.

We got to Monkey Mia just in time for the first feed, and stayed for the next two. We all got to hand the dolphins a fish, our persistence being rewarded after the crowd all left after the first. Sara claimed it was because she removed the kids hats in an attempt to make them irresistable to the choosers in the water. It worked, Ivy actually got picked three times! A detour sure, but worth the $16. From there it was 3 hours of driving to get to Coral Bay. Times tables, spelling, a Tattoo Dude sighting, and even Rolf Harris made the time race by.



Coral Bay must have been special 20 years ago. It's not that it's not now. I can take my mask and snorkel, walk 150 metres from the van and be swimming in amongst lavender bunches of coral, rainbows of fish, and the occasional grey tipped reef shark. It's a beach on the edge of the desert. There are two massive caravan parks, and a good sized hotel / resort but it doesn't feel crowded. It's just that the environment feels stretched. Drinking water comes in by truck, the rest of it from a bore so deep that when it comes out of the tap it is scalding at 80 degrees. Thankfully, the lawns have adapted to this, and the grass at my feet is green.

Fish and coral

Walk around the corner, and it's like a shanty town. Broken couches, rusting beer cans, torn up wire fences. The town is having severe growing pains with little accomodation for the people who are paid to water the lawns, or filet the buckets of massive red emporer fish caught every day on fishing charters. I don't know how long they can keep relying on a 300 metre deep bore for green lawns, swimming pools and clean urinals. I don't know how long people will be able to afford $5.20 for two litres of milk. I don't know if the reef can sustain bag limits of 20kg of filleted fish per person, per 20 person charter. The coral is already not what it was according to people who were here 20 years ago, and the charters are running out of fish to chase.

SHARK

So why are there two big developments going up across the road? Little problems will become big ones that investors are unlikely to want to deal with. They, and future tourists will expect that these problems are noticed and rectified before money is put down. The rush in Western Australia to develop at all costs has become foremost in my impressions of this huge state. History, beauty and the environment are taking a back seat to progress. Seems a little short sighted to me.

In the mean time, whilst everything remains as it is, I'll snorkel happily. I'll go to the pub and pay a ridiclous amount for a beer to sip quietly as I watch the Hawks on Foxtel. We'll enjoy watching the wedding of the heavilly tattooed and pierced couple on the beach. We'll fish, we'll swim, we'll drink a lot of water. Coral Bay is worth the trip. There are no flies or mosquitos. It rarely rains, and the view of calm, turquoise green Indian Ocean water from the pet cemetary on top of the hill demands your time. It's not Porpoise Spit yet, so get here soon.

H

eagle oli's big day out

"this is going to be so cool  I can't wait till we get there!"Says I."were not going to get there if you don't learn how to read an atlas"Says dad." What was that street again"?"Where are we"? "OMG there its its, its...small"
" now lets merch you up"."Whoa look at all this Eagles stuff, This is awesome". "Now your all ready to  go in to Patersons".
Look It's Nic Nat and Coxy and kerr and schofield and everyone! This is awesome!" I exclaim. "There looks like somethings going on over there,why don't you have a look."dad says. (I come back grinning like a mad thing) "Who was that?" I don't know,but I got his signature."

"Hey, glass/kennedy/priddis/other can you please sign my jumper/poster/book/t-shirt/other was the sound of the day as all the football players ceaselelessly signed thing after thing.Now I Know how dad gets so many footy players coming to his practice.

"Hey it's Schofield.Hi Will" "Oh hi Oli. (Will Schofield is Jim's friend.) (that was really all he said to me but I got to shake his hand TWICE. I also met NAITUNUI! He is BIG!
Overall it was awesome, I learnt 2 things that day, the Eagles are an awesome friendly team and I learnt how to read an atlas (sort of.)

Oli


























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okay now lets

Freo, Way to Go, We Gave it the Old Heave Ho

Fremantle. Funny place. Full of overtly casual, hemp clad, hairy, shoeless people coexisting with neighbours who are overtly drunk, mulletted, wearing blue singlets and jail tattoos. Food is mostly organic, but always overpriced, with yoga centres and holistic healing available on every corner. Real bakeries with serious pretensions thus ensuring a diet of decent bread, and even better beer given the proximity of the Little Creatures Brewery just down the road.

Nic Nat & some kid

We had left Mandalay with the kids excited about living in a house again. I’d been to Jen and JB's before, so was aware of what to expect, or rather, what not to expect. In the end, it was another caravan, certainly no Kimmy. She was having a break of her own having been reversed into a sheltered spot beside Curt and Leonie’s garage in Swanbourne. Sara and I met Curt and Leonie in New York. Curt and I used to battle for the final spot on the New York Magpies Aussie Rules football team, which he usually got for the simple reason that he was born on a farm in Illinois, and I am a fifth generation Australian. Some might call it racism, but to be fair, it was probably closer to natural selection.

The Goodge in a pensive mood

Curt and Leonie returned to Perth more than ten years ago. They have two boys, Lucan and Tristan. Curt has left the high powered world of finance he used to dominate to focus on ceramics, beer making, and family not necessarily in that order. We had dinner there and made hand cranked icecream sprinkling macadamia nuts from their tree over the top. I had an extended lunch with Curt and two of his mates, Bob and Daniel, something I hadn’t done for years. That night we all met up again to watch the Dockers game with Shane and Julie also ex NYC Pies, and discussed the definition of selfish and crop circles at length. Curt and Leonie were my Perth highlight. I had always planned to catch up, and expected to enjoy their company. I hadn’t banked on how easy and comfortable their generous company would prove. Thanks, we’re looking forward to returning the favour sometime.

The girls in the park

Jen and JB’s caravan park (sans Kimmie) had ocean views, (from the roof), and fresh sea breezes (through the roof). More gaffer tape on the tarp, and tightening up a few knots solved the latter problem. Within two days we were on the move again albeit only just down the road. Friends of Jen’s were out of their house for almost a month and had handed over the keys to an old limestone house, a backyard with a trampoline, a deaf pug and Ella the dopey golden retriever. A fancy washing machine, a thermomix, massive tv, and a beer fridge.  All bases and everyone covered.

Piggy birthday cake

Most mornings I’d wake to the dulcet tones of JB departing on his vespa, having already been alerted to the proximity of daylight hours by the not so dulcet tones of the Goodge. I’d wander down to the bakery, ignore the organic doughnuts, which despite their pretensions to health would almost certainly bring on a heart attack just as quickly as the non-organic kind, and order a brick of sunflower and rye bread baked by a fifty five year old woman with a bizarre accent in a peasant blouse. Back for cups of tea, reading, chatter, Goodge cuddles, exploring Perth, more tea or maybe a coffee, then beer, wine, dinner, and bed. Routine came easy, with only minor stumbling blocks like computers dying, West Coast Eagles training, and the Disco needing a service to interrupt.

Two tongues, one pink, one blue

 Ivy’s birthday arrived having been built up for the last 2 months. At last Mighty would be 7! Imagine that! A day at the zoo was planned and we headed off. Perth Zoo is small, but extremely well set out. Ivy and I fed a giraffe who stripped leaves from our hands with his blue tongue. He was called  Armani in case we forgot which part of Perth he lived in. Ivy had previously silenced the crowd by correctly answering the “how many bones in a giraffes neck?” question. "SEVEN!" She then drew cheers from a different crowd at the local skatepark when she dropped in on the new blue scooter. We got home for a dinner of lasagne and a cake made by Jen that resembled a pig if you squinted. Taste sensation. I then had to endure Oli’s delight as the Eagles beat my Hawks. It had been a ripper of a day right up until Buddy kicked one goal, six points.

About to drop in

We have squeezed in an awful lot, and it feels like it has been forever since we were on the road, but Highway One is beckoning. We left Rottnest on the Thursday afternoon, and decided to delay our departure until Saturday the 28th. That would give us one final day to get everything in order before we picked up Kimmie and headed north. One final day to say goodbyes to Jen, JB, Kitty, Billy, the Fat Controller, the Little Creatures Brewery, and the hippy baker on the corner. Never got that doughnut. Probably need to come back some time.

Who's who at the zoo? Kitty, Ivy, Oli, Ned & Billy

Troppo on Rotto or That Takes the Quoklates

In the beer garden

For once we managed to organise a schedule well enough that we could actually be somewhere when something special was going on. Emma (sister) was over for work, and Bronwyn (partner) came too. We arranged to meet them on Rottnest Island over the Anzac Day holiday. Rottnest was a revelation. Everyone in Perth had told us how fabulous it was, but we expected that to be some sort of marketing ploy to distract us from the injustices of the mining tax. It was pretty special; in fact, it is the first place I really want to come back to.

Em in her fish helmet for little heads

There are no cars on Rottnest. You have to ride a bike to get anywhere (although you can catch a bus). The pub has the best beer garden in the world. The beaches are pristine, and the water so clean and clear you’d drink it if not for the salt. We stayed one rung above camping in a six berth cabin that slept seven comfortably when Oli and Ivy shared a bed. E & B arrived on the Tuesday and we caught up over coffee. I wasn’t surprised when Emma said she’d head over to the shops to pick up a few things and the kids all volunteered to help. It must be wonderful to have aunties that believe Chuppa Chups are essential to a good diet.

Sara, Oli, Ned, and I got up for the dawn service on Anzac Day. The morbid but curiously tuneful drone of bagpipes over the water filled in the silence of a motor free island as everyone filed down to the shorefront in the dark. The sun came up in front of us, with Perth’s skyline silhouetted in the distance. After ordinary speeches given in an enthusiastic fashion, and a good sausage in a roll with onions, we pedalled back to the girls for brekkie.

Anzac Day Dawn over Perth

Pelicans with Perth in background

Oli powers up a hill

Mid-morning, Curt showed up on his boat with Lucan doing a great Leonardo Di’Caprio “King of the World” impression in the bow. Curt and his GPS took us out fishing which was hugely successful, but became even more successful when we moved to the sheltered side of the island. Oli had by then recovered from a mild and non-productive bout of sea sickness, and everyone except Sara caught something. Curt gave us a quick lesson in how to clean our bounty before he and Lucan headed back to Perth. Dinner was as spectacular as you’d expect, the weather so mild we ate outside with the quokkas. Puns a plenty with regards to these little rodents, one stole a weetbix as big as his head, imagine how happy he was. Sara a bit nonplussed overall, as she really had trouble with their tails.

E & B left the next morning having chatted and spoiled the kids heads off. We cycled some more, with Sara now riding side saddle. Nice beach, snorkelling, pedal back, ferry home to Freo, tea, chat, beer, wine, Goodge. Isn’t it lovely when plans come together!