Archives: 20th November 2001

Tuesday 20th November 2001, Yallingup Oz

Not really ‘up with the larks’ this time. Although a boat dive, we didn’t have to be at Cape Dive’s shop in Dunsborough until 10.30am. Nevertheless, we thought it would be a good idea to get there early – so after Brigid had had breakfast (just a ‘K’ muesli bar for John), and swept the sand out of the van, we went straight there.

Cape Dive’s hire equipment is some of the best we have seen. The BCDs were about 6 months old, and the 5mm, 2 piece, wet suits, didn’t look much older. The briefing was thorough, and all care seemed to have been taken to ensure we had a good day.

The water above the HMAS Swan wreck was relatively calm when we arrived, and with 4 exit points from the purpose-built dive boat (the “Cygnet”), we were all in the water with the minimum of fuss.

John’s ears whistled and squeaked a little for the first few metres of descent, and then gave a satisfying ‘pop’ – confirming that the course of antibiotics and decongestants had done their work.

The water was beautifully clear for this part of the world. From 5 meters, we could see all the way down to the deck (at approx 22m). Once we were all happy with our buoyancy, Shelley (the divemaster) swam over the guard rail and signalled us to enter the wreck.

The 112.8m River Class destroyer, HMAS Swan, has been wonderfully prepared for divers of all abilities, with large square holes cut at strategic intervals on both sides of the hull, at every deck level, allowing even the newest of divers to explore it safely.

At the end of the dive, we made two safety stops for 5 mins at 9m, and again at 5m for 3 mins. Brigid was amazed to discover that she still had 100 bar left in her tank after a bottom time of 36 minutes (a max depth of 20.2m). John puts this down to weight loss (though it could have been more efficient fins)!

After a longish surface interval moored off a quiet beach near Cape Naturaliste, we were back in the water. The plan of the dive was similar to the first with regard to depth and duration, except that we visited different parts of the ship. Unfortunately, successive dive parties had now stirred up the silt, and visibility was not as good. As we reached the main turret, a small school of friendly bat fish came close to check us out. Although the Swan was only sunk in 1997, it is already home to an incredible array of fish and coral.

By the time we surfaced, we were within 12 minutes of our no-decompression limits for a ‘computer-assisted multi-level dive” At the end of the day, John was delighted that his ears were now equalising quite easily, and Brigid was still crowing over her reduced air-consumption (surfacing from the second dive with 85 bar). A good day was had by all.

We arrived back at the Yallingup campsite around 5pm, showered, changed, and cooked dinner in the van. It was one of Brigid’s less successful offerings – seafood pasta. Seafood (other than the “see-food-and-eat-it” variety) does nothing for John. But somehow when Brigid picked up a large bag of frozen seafood ‘marinara’ at the supermarket, it did not occur to him that it would be stuffed with clams, mussels and little pink things with tentacles … He was more than a little unimpressed when a bucket load of rubbery little octopus and crustaceans landed on his plate. Having done his best to weed out the offending little suckers, he was quite grateful to accept Brigid’s rabbit-food salad!


Monday 19th November 2001, Yallingup Oz.

We were woken at dawn by rain, and it continued, on and off, all morning. Brigid had wanted to visit the celebrated “Gloucester Tree” (at 61m, the tallest fire lookout tree in the world), but somehow the thought of climbing 153 steps to the viewing platform lost some of its appeal, in the rain.

So we headed north for Dunsborough, to arrange some wreck-diving for tomorrow. The attractive-sounding beachside campsite in Dunsborough had been bought by developers, and a bulldozer could be seen at work beyond the deserted campsite facilities.

We called in at Cape Dive in Naturaliste Terrace to book our dive on the HMAS Swan wreck (sunk in 1997, and prepared with divers in mind). A young couple behind us recommended the beachside campsite at Yallingup on the west coast, only 6kms away. So having re-stocked our larder, we checked in there, and watched the sunset from an almost deserted beach before settling down to a risotto dinner in the van.


Sunday 18th November 2001, Pemberton Oz.

After the obligatory trip down to Cape Leeuwin, where the Southern and Indian Oceans meet, Brigid thought it would be a good idea to drive inland to Pemberton (theoretically another wine-growing region). It was, it has to be said, a very pleasant drive, through tall Karri forests, and uncharacteristically green pastoral land. On arrival, Brigid (still in slimming mode) insisted on a walk to the local crafts centre. Moments after leaving the van, we were enveloped in another squadron of pesky flies, who accompanied us all the way there and back, frequently reminding us of their presence by flying into our noses and eyes, and squatting on our sunglasses. How do the Australians put up with them!?

The Rough Guide recommended the Eagle Creek Trout Hatchery for a meal, so at about 7pm we set off down a forest road for the 17km drive – breaking our rule about ‘night driving’.

There had clearly been some sort of storm through the area recently, as we had to dodge a variety of wind blown obstructions.

Needless to say, being Sunday evening, the restaurant was closed when we arrived, so we headed back into Pemberton (dodging suicidal frogs on this leg).

We eventually ate at the Shamrock restaurant, where almost everything was off the menu, due to a rush earlier in the evening. Still, we had a couple of nice smoked trout, with chips and peas.


Saturday 17th November 2001, Augusta Oz.

Wouldn’t you know it. The day they had a bus service running between the wineries, was the day we checked out of the campsite. It was obvious from the start, that we were going to be racing the tour coaches at each stop. Our first was Cape Mentelle, Veuve Cliquot’s Margaret River subsidiary. (Marlborough’s “Cloudy Bay” is another.)

As we pulled in, the dreaded bus was just leaving, having already deposited its passengers at the tasting counter. Frankly, we didn’t enjoy Cape Mentelle wines half as much as New Zealand’s Cloudy Bay, but the Semillon Chardonnay was good, as were the inexpensive Magnum blends.

Next was Xanadu. We arrived fractionally ahead of the bus, but by the time Brigid had located her camera, swatted a couple of flies, combed her hair, changed clothes, located a lost dollar coin, and tied her laces … the bus party had made it inside.
Xanadu Winery

It was left to John to elbow his way through the crowd (doubtless muttering sexist oaths). As promised, the people at Xanadu were nice, and the 2000 Chardonnay had just won “Best Export” (so consequently none was available for tasting).

Voyager was quite simply stunning. (Yes. Their flag is enormous, and quite probably the second largest in Australia!) They also have a beautiful estate, the focal point of which is a low white single-storey Dutch-style house, which looks as if it has been there forever but, in fact, was built in 1996. At the end of each row of vines is a single red rose bush (this is not purely decorative, as the roses serve as an early warning system for pests). Entry to the house was via colourful formal gardens (not a tulip in sight). The whole thing was a treat to the senses … their wines weren’t half bad either (and are available in the UK through Justerini & Brooks)!

The last stop on our wine trail was Leeuwin, where we had intended to eat lunch. In the event, we considered that their restaurant was too grand for our tastes, and moved on south to Augusta.


Friday 16th November 2001, Margaret River Oz.

There are so many wineries in the Margaret River region, that it was hard to select the 4 or 5 that we should not miss. The assistant bar manager at the Margaret River Hotel had helped a bit. Her recommendations were: Voyager, “the second largest flag in Oz (?)”; Leeuwin, “fantastic”; Vasse Felix, “nice flowers (!); Xanadu, “great wines, nice people”; and Palandri, “just have a look …”.

After careful deliberation, over the last dregs of coffee, we decided on the following itinerary for the day: Evans & Tate, Fermoy Estate, Brooklands Valley (for lunch), Chapman’s Creek, and Palandri … so much for the advice!

Evans & Tate, who are in the middle of building an ambitious visitor complex, export to the UK. Of all the wineries we have visited, they seemed to have the most consistently drinkable wines. We particularly liked their inexpensive “Classic” red and white wines, but we will be sure to look out for Marks & Spencer’s “Snappers Cove” when we get home (also one of theirs).

Fermoy Estate, whose excellent 2000 Chardonnay we had drunk with dinner on Wednesday night, also had a delicious, award-winning, Merlot. But, on our meagre budget, we weren’t sufficiently impressed to shell out Aus$30 for a bottle.

Brooklands Valley was a beautiful estate, with immaculate fragrant flower beds, and a restaurant overlooking a carefully landscaped lakeside vista. We had lunch there, and bought a bottle of their “Verse 1 2000 Shiraz”, which seemed good value.

We stopped in at the tiny Chapman’s Creek winery, which has been established since 1988 and has won awards for its wines in the past. This year, however, it had not and, due to a glut of regional wines, was selling some bargain “clean-skin” wines (wines that carry only the scantest information on a plain label, and are not attributable to any particular winery).

Our taste buds had more or less had enough by the time we arrived at Palandri, but we were intrigued by the comment, “just have a look …”. This was wine production at its most commercial. An enormous gift shop/visitor centre sold everything from picnic hampers to designer fleeces (naturally all stamped with the distinctive Palandri “lizard” logo). There was a full-scale café, and regular winery tours, coach parking facilities, and an art gallery. The wines themselves were good enough, but the whole thing was a bit of a circus.

Exhausted, we made our way back to the campsite, and a little later walked into town for dinner at “Winos”. Despite the naff name, dinner was excellent, though we were surprised to find that only one local wine featured on the wine list!


Thursday 15th November 2001, Margaret River Oz.

After some careful planning, we set off on our exploration of the Margaret River wine region. Unfortunately, ‘ace navigator extraordinaire’ Brigid had misread the Wine Festival brochure.

We had expected to be able to leave our trusty van at the campsite, relying instead on several advertised bus routes that would take us to the various wineries. As it transpired, these only ran at the weekend, so we would now have to limit our tastings so as not to fall foul of the drink-drive laws.

First on the list was the Settlers Ridge outlet at Cowaramup. They currently have no distributor in the UK, but we liked their 2000 Sauvignon Blanc, the ’99 Shiraz, and the 2000 Cabernet Sauvignon.

A little further down the road, we stopped at Howard Estates, who make the “Mad Fish” wines that we see in the UK. We preferred their reds to their whites – and both varieties (Shiraz and ‘Premium Red’) are available at home.

By this stage, we were becoming hungry for lunch, and Vasse Felix (Vasse was a shipwrecked sailor, who landed in the area, and Felix means ‘lucky’!) was reputed to have a good restaurant. Unfortunately, Vasse Felix also has the most beautiful landscaped gardens, and all the trees and scrubs were in blossom. As Brigid tasted the first of the wines, she remarked, “either this has an extremely subtle bouquet, or I have completely lost my sense of smell”. Within minutes, she was suffering a full-blown attack of hay fever.

Every cloud has a silver lining, however … at least for John! With Brigid unable to taste wines for the rest of the day, John was able to make the most of the afternoon.

He tasted a delicious 2000 Chardonnay at Hay Shed Hill (who no longer export), and also liked their Shiraz and Cabernet Sauvignon. Our last winery of the day was Willespie. But, by that stage, John’s taste buds were getting tired.

Before dinner, Brigid had an appointment with the local WeightWatchers group, to see how her diet had been going. She was delighted to find that over 3 weeks, she had lost 3.5kgs. With that, we decided it was time for dinner. We ate at the inappropriately named Margaret River Hotel. (In Australia, the word ‘hotel’ usually implies the roughest drinking hole in town. While they are obliged to offer some sort of accommodation – if only so that drunks can sleep off their excesses – it is usually far from salubrious!)


Wednesday 14th November 2001, Margaret River Oz.

First things first.  We visited the National Australian Bank to tell them to expect John’s new card.  Also, we asked if we could use their fax machine to confirm the instructions.  A wonderfully helpful teller not only agreed to send our fax, but also gave us a couple of sheets of headed writing paper to write it on.  (She didn’t even charge us for the call!)

That sorted, we set out to find Dive Ski & Surf in Subacio to organise our Advanced Open Water scuba training. Morry, our divemaster from Exmouth, had recommended this particular dive shop to us.  It turned out that the owner was his father!  John was still a little concerned about his ability to equalise, so the shop recommended a specialist doctor down the road.

After a satisfactory visit to the doctor, and a bite to eat, we headed south to Margaret River and the annual Wine Festival.


Tuesday 13th November 2001, Freemantle Oz.

It was only about an hour’s drive from Toodyay into Perth, and we spent the day doing necessary things like re-booking our onward flights to Singapore and Thailand, and finding a telephone number for John’s cousin, Tony Jenkins. 

We decided that Fremantle seemed to be an infinitely nicer place to stay than Perth, so we found ourselves a campsite just south of the town.  We ate at the “Mussel Bar”, where John was disappointed to find that a ‘pitcher’ of beer held less than 2 pints … but cost more!  After a short discussion with the Manager, he put his hands up and admitted “most people don’t notice”.  We wont be eating there again!!

Due to over-use, no doubt, John’s Barclays Connect (ATM) card had given up the ghost – leaving him temporarily dependent on Brigid for cash!  After dinner, he made a quick phone call to his bank’s branch in Putney, and arranged for them to forward a new card to a local bank in Fremantle. All we needed to do was to send a fax confirming the address.


Monday 12th November 2001, Toodyay Oz.

We had noticed a worrying leak from the van’s rear differential, so the first task this morning was to ring Britz and arrange for a repair.

Geraldton has a lovely seaside air about it and the main shopping street retains many original buildings – some now housing upmarket boutiques and surf shops. Outside the museum is a curious little yellow submarine, which was originally built with the idea of harvesting crayfish … using an ingenious ‘vacuum cleaner’ device! However, submarine was beset with technical problems, and the idea never caught on.

The problem with the rear differential turned out to be nothing more than a loose nut, and we were soon on the road again.

At Dongara, where the Brand Highway meets the Midlands Road, we turned off to take the more scenic route via Mingenew, Three Springs, Carnamah and Moora – all pleasant farming towns, serving the rural wheat-growing industry. At Moora we left the Midlands Road for the Great Northern Highway, so that we could stop at New Norcia.

According to our guidebook, this monastery, with its Spanish-style buildings, seems curiously out of place in the Australian outback.

It was built by the Benedictines in a spectacularly ill-advised attempt to convert the local Aboriginals to the ‘dual merits’ of Catholicism and agriculture (another inglorious example of European meddling).

We drove slowly so that the noise from the road would not interrupt the radio commentary of the Australia/New Zealand test cricket test, taking place in Melbourne. It finally ended in a nail-biting draw, and we unfortunately arrived too late to get into the New Norcia museum or shop. Instead, we contented ourselves with a walk around the various community buildings (John swatting angrily at the massed squadrons of flies swarming around his head).

We spent the night in Toodyay, one of Western Australia’s first inland settlements. The town retains many original Victorian buildings, and much of its charm.


Sunday 11th November 2001, Geraldton Oz.

We had a lazy morning.  Strictly speaking, we should have checked out at 10am … But we got talking to a rather nice Dutch couple from Sydney, parked on the site behind us.  It started with a discussion about last night’s rugby (England 29 : Australia 15) and went on from there.  They put out some deck chairs for us, and we put the kettle on …

After a couple of hours very pleasant chat under the shade of their awning, we felt we really ought to move on and leave them to their exploration of Carnavon.  We said our goodbyes and hit the road for Kalbarri.

Brigid had meant to take over the driving about half way – at the “Billabong Roadhouse”, but (predictably) she dozed off after about 150kms and awoke to find we had passed it about half an hour before.  Unfortunately, we should also have refuelled at Billabong …

We reached the next service station at Binnu with less than a quarter of a tank of petrol, an unreliable fuel gauge, and 66kms to Kalbarri. At 3.30pm on a Sunday afternoon, it was closed!

Our only option was to try and make Northampton, 40kms south.  This would mean that we would bypass Kalbarri (disappointing, as we had hoped to have another go at windsurfing!), but had the advantage that if we ran out of fuel on the main highway, someone would almost certainly stop and help. (It is an unwritten rule of motoring in outback Australia, that if you see a motorist in apparent trouble, you stop … even if it is only to share some of your fly repellent.)

We made it safely to Northampton and filled up.  Needless to say, we were not as low as we had feared, but it was better to be on the safe side. We drove on to Geraldton, and spent the night in the Belair Gardens campsite to the west of the town.