Archives: 10th November 2001

Brigid’s Mum’s birthday. “Happy Birthday Mum!”

Our departure from Exmouth was delayed by Brigid’s decision to do the washing … all of it! It shouldn’t have been a problem, with two washing machines and a tumble dryer at our disposal. So we heaped it all in while we ate breakfast. After 30 minutes John went back to load the dryer … only to find it had no drum!

Instead we had to make do with the washing lines. As Brigid worked on the diary, John kept watch on our precious clothes pegs (now this might strike you as a little ‘anal’, but with a fresh breeze blowing, most people’s washing ends up scattered all over the campsite unless pegged … and most people don’t think to pack pegs) … We finally left the campsite at 1pm.

On arrival in Carnavon, Brigid rang her Mum to wish her Happy Birthday, and John rang Mike. We ate dinner in The Old Post Office again, and got an early night.

Up at 6am again, but this time we had the benefit of a good night’s sleep, lighter winds and warm sunshine.  Today’s dives were to take place off the Murrien Islands.  Apart from a slight kafuffle over our BCDs and other equipment, which had not arrived from Dive Ventures by the time the bus left for the harbour, the day looked much more promising.  The crowd on the boat seemed a much more attractive and chatty bunch (oh, and we had lost the tiresome ‘Barbara’ whose shrieking voice and generally OTT jolliness, nearly drove us all mad the day before). 

It took an hour and a half to sail out to the first dive site, “Jaws” (named after the dive boat that discovered it)! Today, along with Liam and Sarah, we counted as the ‘advanced’ group.  The first site was not spectacular, but the visibility was excellent, and Morry was a much better divemaster than Craig.  We felt well looked after.  After an hour or so on the surface, we upped anchor and headed for a sheltered bay on the next island.  John had carefully avoided eating anything between the dives, but was still having a slight problem equalising.  As we reached the bottom, Brigid was half expecting that he would have to surface, so was more than a little relieved when he appeared beside her with a big grin and an ‘OK’ signal.  “Morry’s Maze” was by far and away the best dive we have been on to date.  It is a literal maze of coral bridges, tunnels, and caves, which actually requires a certain amount of skill to negotiate as, at times, the water was only around 3m deep (very easy to bob to the surface).

The highlight of the dive (apart from the fun of swimming in and out of the tunnels) was the diversity of the coral which, at that depth, was brilliant in colour.  John and Morry did try and tease a fairly substantial shark out of his hiding place in a cave, but he turned out to be camera-shy.

We were pleased to record a bottom-time of 57 minutes, which (although it was a very shallow dive) is a record for us! We dozed contentedly in the sun all the way home.  John got chatting to another diver, a Dutch policeman who was doing his first Open Water dives.  He described his division in Arnhem, and said that he had responsibility for everyone from the tactical firearms unit to the tea lady.  John asked what rank he held.  “Commissioner”!!

Up at 6am to meet the other divers at Exmouth Village Dive. Thinking we were going out for a morning’s diving on a ‘rib’ (a small semi-inflatable), Brigid suggested that we don our wet suits in the van – we were, after all, due back at 12.30pm. This surprised Exmouth Village Dive, as they were, in fact, doing a 3 dive day off their big dive boat – we were not going to be back until late afternoon.

Our first dive was at a site called “Blizzard Reef”. We were a bit disappointed by the visibility (about 6m) but there were some interesting fish nevertheless. Getting out of the water was a challenge as there was quite a swell, and therefore a constant threat of being swept under the boat’s transom as we wrestled to remove our fins.

By way of a snack, we were offered cold curried samosas and some rather odd-looking crumbed chicken ‘sausages’. Brigid had one or two, but John had two or three of each. After the requisite surface interval, we moved around the coast to the next dive site, “Gulliver”. Neither the swell, nor the visibility, had improved. Additionally, John now had a problem with wind – attributable to his hernia – and his ears had started to play up, making it difficult to equalise.

The highlights of the dive were the appearance of a white-tipped shark (not to be confused with a ‘white-pointer’ or Great White) and a huge and graceful manta ray.

As we climbed out, Brigid complained of a headache – not good, especially with the boat rolling heavily in the swell. She stripped off her wetsuit and found a dry corner of the boat to curl up in, hoping that we would soon be on our way.

Unfortunately, one of the divers was doing an advanced search and rescue course, and had only entered the water as we were coming out. We had to wait, rolling at anchor, for an hour for the rest of the party to surface.

Neither of us had enjoyed the day as much as we had hoped, but we had another good dinner at the Whalers’, and booked for the following night …

So – today we spent mainly on the road between Carnavon and Exmouth (about 370km). We stopped briefly after the Minilyn Roadhouse to prepare sandwiches for lunch. Then, a few miles further north, we stopped again for a ‘Kodak moment’ as we crossed the Tropic of Capricorn.

Using a piece of cling-film (… sticky-back plastic, and an empty Fairy Liquid bottle …) in true Blue Peter style (John Noakes would be proud of us!), we secured the digital camera to the mesh windscreen guard, and set the timer …

Right, I’ve got the timer sorted …

After a bit of experimentation, we managed to get quite a good shot of us both beneath the sign.

We arrived in Exmouth about 3pm and immediately tracked down Dive Ventures to organise some scuba diving on Ningaloo Reef. They set us up with two days’ diving and pointed us in the direction of the Exmouth Tourist Village: a holiday campsite, but with whom Dive Ventures share a dive boat.
Thus organised, we had a cup of tea back at the van, and watched a pair of emus scavenging in the campsite dustbins.

Kalbarri has few places of interest (not even a museum), and is popular just as a seaside resort – perfect for chilling out. Brigid took some time out to bring the diary up to date, while John read his book. Then we packed a picnic lunch and walked round to the swimming beach.

It was extremely windy, but the water was warm and sheltered from the strong currents of the harbour entrance. As we walked back (lugging two folding chairs from the van, which turned out to be completely unnecessary, but which Brigid had insisted on bringing anyway …), we spotted a young woman attempting to learn to windsurf. The wind must have been gusting 30 knots, and would have tested even quite an experienced boarder, but she was determined not to give up as (under the critical eye of her boyfriend), she fell in over and over again. “That looks fun,” said Brigid. “T’riffic”, said John.

However, somehow we were persuaded that the winds would be lighter in the morning and perfect for beginners …

We ate out at Echoes Café, which also has Internet access. We spent over an hour on the computer before ordering our food – which then took over an hour to arrive at our table. Good though our meal eventually was, we didn’t like the way the owner thrust the credit card receipt under our noses with the total conspicuously missing. Tipping is not generally expected in Australia though, as one would expect, it is normal to reward exceptional service. Grudgingly, John filled at the total leaving a minimal 10%.

The day of the Melbourne Cup! (The whole of Australia shuts down for the morning of this big race – their equivalent of the Derby.)

We needed to be up bright and early to see the dolphins. (Since the dolphins became an attraction, the rangers have taken to feeding them small quantities of fish to ‘encourage’ them to interact.) The best time to see them at the beach was between 8am and 10am (so we were reliably informed by our guidebook). So we wanted to be there as early as possible, see the dolphins, and be on our way. In the event we arrived at 8.30am, and a ‘feed’ was already in progress. Two dolphins followed the rangers in knee-high water – rolling over and nudging the buckets of fish. The crowd of about 50 stood two or three deep, up to their ankles in foul-smelling sea water.

After a while, the stocks of fish exhausted, the dolphins swam away. It did not seem a very satisfactory event, considering the lengthy detour we had made to witness it.

So we booked ourselves on a short catamaran cruise, where at least we would see dolphins in a more natural environment.

Once aboard the “Shotover Cat”, we both volunteered for ‘sail duty’. John and two other men hoisted the main, and Brigid and another woman cranked the coffee-grinder to unfurl the gib. Despite the strong winds, it was a lovely day to be at sea, and the catamaran, although open-decked, had plenty of room for everyone to get a good view of whatever was going.

Our first sighting was the oddly-named dugong (sea cow), an altogether strange beast. Slow swimming and ungainly, it feeds on sea grass. The dugong has few natural predators. It defends itself by tensing its thick brown skin, making it impossible for most sharks or whales to get a proper bite.

After the dugong, we saw groups of dolphins ‘sleeping’. (Dolphins sleep on the surface – but because they need to regulate their breathing, they only close down one half of their brains at a time. Brigid remarked that John does something similar every morning. He only wakes one half of his brain at a time!)

It couldn’t have felt less like Guy Fawkes’.  Although the wind had kept us both awake for much of the night (titter ye not, Mrs …), we were amazed when we surfaced to find it calm.  John was surprisingly enthusiastic about his windsurfing lesson.  (No lesson, actually.  For AUS$15, we had an hour’s hire of a windsurfer.  After some basic operating instructions, we were on our own.)  Two or three times John got his balance and started to move.  But no sooner had Brigid reached for the camera than … oops!  The wind changed and in he went again.

After struggling manfully for about 20 minutes or so, John needed a break.  Brigid waded in to collect the board.  She stood up … and pulled up the sail … the wind picked up … she wobbled … recovered … and she was off! (Not off the board, but sailing for the harbour entrance!) “See you in South Africa”, yelled the board’s owner.  “I hate her already”, muttered John.

Unfortunately, no one had bothered to explain how to turn round. As the figures on the beach got smaller and smaller, Brigid began to worry about the, all too real, prospect of the open sea.  Having tried, and failed, several times, to alter direction, she eventually jumped off the windsurfer, and suffered the indignity of having to swim back to safety … towing the board!  “Shame”, said John.

By the time she arrived back at the beach, the wind had got up again.  John was keen to have another go.  But, by now, there were white horses in the harbour.  After a couple of attempts, we both conceded defeat. 

We showered and changed, and hit the road for Monkey Mia.

Before setting off for Kalbarri, we had to stop to see the “stromatolites”. To look at, they are really quite dull – just brown cowpat-like objects visible in the shallow water at the edge of Lake Thetis.

But these ‘living fossils’ are 1,200 years old and are identical to those found in other parts of Australia dating back 3.5 million years! In other words, these simple life forms actually date back to the earliest primeval sludge, from which all other life is said to have descended!

We took a couple of photos and then headed north up the Brand Highway. At lunchtime we stopped at the historical hamlet of Greenough, which our guidebook described as “a rather well restored 19th Century pioneer farming hamlet”.

Brigid took great delight in locking John in one of the gaol’s tiny cells while she took his photo through the ‘wicket gate’. He got his own back by making her pose in the dock of the old court room.

OK, I won’t call you ‘Fatso’ any more. I promise!

There was a wedding due at 2.30pm and we were told that the bride was to arrive in a pony trap. It seemed like a good photo-opportunity, so we hung around until she arrived – typically late, at 2.45pm.

We reached Kalbarri by 5pm, picking easily the best campground and site in the town – just across the road from the beach. “No visit would be complete”, said the guidebook without a visit to Findlays Fresh Fish BBQ in Magee Crescent.”

We located Findlays at about 6.30pm, and it was already busy. Unfortunately the guidebook had neglected to mention that the restaurant was BYO (‘Bring Your Own’ wine, beer, etc.), so we had to go back to the bottle shop. Other than that, the evening was perfect. The BBQ jewfish wings were delicious with honey and chilli sauce, and our table in the courtyard was lit by the glow of an open fire. We stopped at the pub on the way home for a nightcap.

Today we drove north up the coastal road to Cervantes to see the extraordinary Pinnacles. We arrived at the campsite a little after 1pm and set about doing the laundry. The idea was to get that and lunch out of the way, and then head down to the temptingly white sands and turquoise sea for a swim. The best time to see the Pinnacles, we were reliably informed, was either at sunset (or sunrise) or during a full moon.

As luck would have it, by the time we had eaten, and delved around in our luggage for our snorkelling gear, the wind had got up and the air felt distinctly cool. It quickly clouded over (depriving us of our scenic sunset), so we decided to drive directly to the Pinnacles.

Much of the road is unsealed and rather corrugated. Once again, the pots and pans rattled away like the percussion section of a school band. Suddenly Brigid spotted a pair of dark ears sticking out of the bush. We skidded to a halt and grabbed the telephoto lens. There, eyeing us suspiciously from the dense undergrowth, was a little grey kangaroo!

The Pinnacles themselves really are rather wonderful – even without the sunset – acres of strange tooth-shaped pinnacles of limestone, a sort of enormous higgledy-piggledy Stonehenge. It is hard to believe they are a completely natural formation. Indeed, early Dutch settlers thought they must be the remains of an ancient city. (Sadly, it looks as if some of the residents of nearby Cervantes have removed a few of the smaller stones to decorate their gardens.)

The trip back to camp required several ‘Kodak’ stops for roos. John was becoming increasingly frustrated that the zoom on his little digital camera was not powerful enough to get a really good picture, “… short of a roo actually posing at the side of the road”.

As if on cue, around the very next corner, two roos grazed contentedly at the edge of the road. To John’s amazement, Brigid was able to walk right up to within 20 feet or so with the camera.

Brigid had prepared a special ‘low fat’ Bolognese sauce. So we had spaghetti for dinner, washed down with a rather nice young shiraz wine: “The first in the Millennium” from Chateau Hornby in Alice Springs.

We were awake at 7am, so made the most of the day by leaving the campsite early to explore downtown Perth.

We parked by the Entertainment Centre, where a few teenage girls were already awaiting the arrival of Robbie Williams. (Brigid enquired after tickets at the Box Office but, finding that there were only ‘restricted view’ tickets available – amazing that there were any at all, really – we passed on the opportunity.) Next stop was an Internet café/dive shop that John had spotted in Barrack Street. We logged in to take down Jim Elliott’s address, which Bill Ferguson had sent us. Unfortunately, Jim turned out to be living in Queensland, so there was no hope of seeing him on this trip.

The rest of the day we spent shopping – first for a good guidebook, then for new undies, after two of Brigid’s bras had mysteriously disappeared off campsite washing lines … By 5pm our legs were growing weary, we headed back to the van to stow our purchases. Then we crossed the railway lines to find something to eat among Perth’s many trendy restaurants and bars.