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