Bound for South Australia

The Nullarbor Plain is, in parts, indeed “treeless”…Null (ie none)…Arbor (trees)! Wow, we hadn’t really known where the word came from until we were crossing this giant limestone plain. We took 3 days to cross, from Esperance in WA at the western end of the Great Australian Bight, to Streaky Bay SA at the eastern end. The nights on the plain were cold, and quiet, except for the sounds through the night of distant road trains, and the haunting calls of the Bronze-wing Pigeons. They sounded like the sound effects out of a science fiction movie, a sort of low, resonating whistle-come-moan that drifted from left to right across the bare plains.  We stopped at Head of Bight on the second night, and in the morning watched Southern Right Whales with their calves swimming within metres of the awesome Bunda Cliffs on which we stood. Travelling down the Eyre Peninsula we stopped at Streaky Bay, a sleepy, picturesque fishing town nestled around a small bay.  The caravan park was on the shores of the bay, with the water lapping within metres of our campsite. The girls walked to the long jetty for a spot of fishing, and caught sight of a sea lion, frolicking beneath the wooden pier. We had our first “freak accident” when a huge storm erupted in the middle of the night. A massive gust of wind pushed the canvas in, toppling our entire kitchen bench, 20 litres of water spilling out of the jerry can through the tent and to top it all off, the partially set jelly was splattered all over the walls and floor. Nellie was very scared, Maeve hid under her blanket, then comforted her sister whilst Russ and I spent an hour or so mopping up. The lightning, thunder and wind slowly abated and we all fell back to sleep around 4am. On the southern side of the peninsula from Streaky Bay was the Southern Ocean, with more amazing cliffs and the largest colony of sea lions on the mainland at Point Labatt. It was very windy and cold, but we persevered, and Russ managed to capture some photos of the lolling giants and their bubs from above. From Streaky Bay we continued south to Coffin Bay, which is set on a series of lagoons and surrounded by swampy marshes and wetlands. We spent a few nights here amongst the heath and abundant birdlife. Some more great wild and windy Southern Ocean views from places with great names like Cape Avoid (which some ships in the past, and to their peril, didn’t). From Coffin Bay we headed up the other side of the peninsula and around the Spencer Gulf, passing through Port Lincoln, Port Augusta and past Port Pirie. Driving through these industrial towns felt like driving through a large Port Kembla, and for a girl from the Gong, didn’t hold much interest. We camped at Mount Remarkable, which forms the southern tip of the Flinders Ranges. This was another surprise, as we had little information to go on. It was a beautiful campsite, with towering River Red Gums and native Cypress Pines, set along a shallow creek bed, with large shady sites, yummy hot showers and best of all wood fires! We could only spend a night there, but were able to complete a quick 8 km walk up to a lookout and back before heading to Adelaide in the afternoon. It certainly will be on our agenda for our next trip. We have had to make some adjustments to our planned itinerary, due to lack of time. This means we will leave the “red centre” for another time, and go home via the Great Ocean Road and maybe some of the Victorian high country. We have spent too much time enjoying ourselves in the tropics and feel that to do the “Centre” justice, we need more than 3 weeks. (Another Trak Shak venture on the horizon in a year or so, eh.  We’d better start planning! Anyone keen to join?) 

Here we go! Across the Nullarbor.

Look no hands! How to drive the straight bits.

As the sun slowly sinks across the plains.

Full moon over the Nullarbor.

Hand over all your fruit & veg once more.

The stunning Bunda cliffs at Head of Bight SA

A Southern Right whale & calf.

Oh look...sealions!

Look closer....

closer...

Aren't they cute!

A Golden Whistler. They have the most beautiful song.

A Blue Fairy Wren

Walking at Mt Remarkable

Cypress forest.

Here we are in the Flinders. 

The camp goanna, being harassed by some Kookaburras.

Heath-Cliff, Albany to Esperance

Pining for the Fiords …………

We eased the crew away from the Tingle wood giants ever eastwards and with the light fading pulled into the Emu Beach Caravan Park on the outskirts of Albany.  There was no real impression of what we would find at Albany, were planning only a quick overnight stop anyway, there was light drizzle, and to cut a long story short, we were not greatly overwhelmed by the place as we skirted the town.

Once the Trak Shak was set up, I reckoned that before I put dinner on I could steal a quick stroll through the coastal heath and dune for a glimpse of the bay on which Albany lies.  Well, truth be known, I was overwhelmed at first sight.  Albany and the surrounding King George Sound form one of those most captivating and awesome coastal landscapes.  Huge granite boulders and islands rise up out of the water, the headlands and inlets of the Sound give one of the most picturesque, huge and peaceful harbours you will ever see. It rivals Port Jackson I reckon. It was enough to convince us to stay at least a day more and look around, which we gladly did.

Tucked up on the northern end of the Sound is the spreading and historic centre of Albany, with huge white wheat silos dominating the port area.  Somehow they have managed to retain, conserve and re-use a large portion of their historic buildings, testimony to the fact that Albany was actually settled a couple of years prior to Perth. We set out on the ½ hour drive to the south-western head of the Sound into Torndirrup NP.  This was the site of the last operating whaling station in Australia, where it shocked Maeve to know that we in Australia were still whaling until 1978.  (Sort of makes our stand on the Japanese whaling activities a little curious). Out on the end of the peninsula you face the full face of the monstrous, rolling Southern Ocean.  Massive sheets of bare, rounded granite at the waters edge give way to more low multi-coloured flowering heaths. They’ve actually been able to match up the rock formations along this part of the coast with their exact counterparts on the Antarctic continent.  For those of us who feel we must get to Antarctica before we leave this earth – Jenny not wanting to be so included – this was a spiritual moment; so near, yet so far.

From Albany we headed for Esperance and Cape Le Grand.  The further east we got, the lower and more sparse the vegetation became, yet somehow in these seemingly poor, sandy coastal soils, the huge plantings of wheat continue.  They seem to do well, too.

Esperance the town did not grab us at all like Albany did, though it is obviously a popular holiday destination for Perth folk.  The wheat port here is even larger than that in Albany, but Esperance Bay itself is more open, wind-swept and less inviting.  A quick re-provisioning in town, and we scooted out for 3 nights in Cape Le Grand NP.  Another stunning coastline here, again with huge granite outcrops on land leading into a trail of lower, submerged rock masses that make up the various islands of the Recherche Archipelago.  At places, wind and sea have carved huge caves into the faces of the granite. 

We were camped here on Lucky Bay, so called by Matthew Flinders as he took refuge from a Southern Ocean squall on his circumnavigation of the continent in 1802. As with much of the whole west coast of WA, place names and other snippets of information we came across provide constant reminders of the contacts between Aboriginal folk and the various European and Asian explorers, navigators, traders/exploiters and colonisers. In this part of the world it seemed to be mainly collaborations and competitions between the English and French and their Noongar hosts.  We dragged the young’ns away from their hopeful fishing attempts for a few treks through the heathlands to some of the higher peaks here - Mt Mississippi being one - from where you get the most amazing views across the lands and waters that mark the western edge of the Great Australian Bight. 

I think it was Flinders that named the highest, most prominent peak here as “Frenchmans Peak” – the beret-form cap on the mount a dead give-away as to which peak the name refers.  The Noongar dreaming here refers to the peak as the mother “walich” or eagle, and their story for the place relates to how a couple of young Noongar kids stole her eggs, for which the mother eagle tracked them down, picked them up in her claws and dropped them out to sea.  You can still seem them out there in the form of a couple of the islands lying close offshore.

Underneath the Frenchman’s cap is a humungous see-through cavern that some of Flinder’s party ventured into and recorded in their journals.  It’s now a popular and invigorating climb up some pretty bare granite slidey slopes.  Russ couldn’t resist and got in a rare solo adventure to the top, minus those pesky, slothful girls; the 3 of them pretending it was imperative that they remain instead at camp dangling a fishing line in Lucky Bay without real conviction. (This may sound harsh, but I just wanted to make them envious that they missed out on some really spekky views, as well as an exciting walk-cum-slide back down the side of the cap.  Best perhaps they weren’t there to watch same.)

Jenny writes....I wanted to climb Frenchman's Cap, but the girls went on strike and refused, so I stayed behind to watch that they didn't get washed off the rocks whilst fishing! (Don't believe everything Russ writes!)

Next day came and pack up again we did, heading north then east via Norseman, endless wheat fields, broken by great stretches of mallee, for the much awaited Nullabor crossing.

“… bound for South Australia …” (to be read singing, as the auld shanty goes).

The Woonona Mob.

Flinders Peninsula. "Antarctica Dreaming"

Fisher Folk @ Cape Le Grand

View of Lucky Bay from our camp site.

Heath flowers

Looking out from Cape Le Grand

Recherche Archipelago

Russ the "wilderness explorer" spots a cave off the track....

and we dutifully follow.

Miss Maeve looking more & more like Aunty Ro! 

At Mt. 

Mississippi

Climb every mountain...Mt Mississippi.

View from Mt 

Mississippi

Frenchman's Cap....let's climb that as well!

view from Frenchman's Cap

Amazing heath eucalypt

and it's pods.

"Stonehenge"...Esperence style! Costs $5 to enter. Russ took this from the road, by standing on the car...and the owner saw him and started yelling.

How Green is this valley?

What can we say about the stunning Margaret River region? Well it is lush, green, farmland, with gently rolling hills, small villages, wineries dotted throughout and fat cattle grazing on the fertile pasture. The forests of Karri tower above, creating magical worlds beneath their canopies. Just delightful…like most Margarets we know! We camped at Leeuwin-Naturaliste NP, about 50 km south-west of the town of Margaret River. A beautiful, small campground, set amongst the coastal dunes and melaleuca forest. We could thankfully have a fire, as the nights were very cold. Fires are not something that we have been able to have in many places, and so they are always a bonus. We spent the days exploring the region, the amazing coastline and cliffs, and even managed to visit a winery (Evans & Tate, now owned by McWilliams), go through a limestone cave (the Lake Cave) and a brilliant hedge maze. Karri trees (huge eucalypts, as also are the Jarrah and Marri) are the third largest tree in the world. Driving and walking in these forests is spectacular, although you could suffer from neck strain, constantly looking up. Maybe that’s why the area has so many towns ending in the word “up”, because that’s where you tend to be looking! It would be easy to stay in the region for several weeks, in one of the numerous cabins or chalets, visiting wineries, trying the local delicacies and just relaxing. We managed to spot more whales and a seal or two from Cape Naturaliste, which added another layer to the experience. We stopped at Cape Leeuwin, which is the most south-westerly point of WA and where the Indian and Southern oceans meet. We then headed to Pemberton, a picturesque town set among more towering Karri forests, where we camped in the Warren NP, on the Warren River. We realised we were now heading east for almost the first time in this entire trip - we must be on our way home! Warren NP is within a large Karri forest, and camping surrounded by these giants was very special. The road through the forest is one way, as it is very narrow, windy and steep in sections. The road forms a loop through the NP. It was incredibly quiet and still at night, something we were not used to after months of west coast wind, and felt quite eerie. Again, fires were permitted, which was just as well, as some nights it was only 6 degrees, and we had had a fair amount of rain, so the ground and us were a little slushy, and we needed drying out as well as warmth. Russ decided he could live in Pemberton when we retire, as they have a small tramline that runs along an old timber rail route for the tourists, and he could volunteer to help run it. He said it would be like having a grown up version of a model train set. The surrounding countryside is again incredibly lush and fertile and the land is affordable. We had a lot of adventures, climbing trees (with steel rungs in the trunks, used originally as forest fire-spotting trees), aerial tree walks in the Tingle forests (another giant eucalypt) and of course, going on the tram ride. The villages in the south-west boast historical buildings and pretty houses, taking you back to a bygone era, without being overly quaint or twee. A truly beautiful part of Australia.

Ellen writes… climbing the Bicentennial Tree.

We had to drive back around the loop to get there. We walked out and already I gasped! Getting closer was much more exciting. I looked up and Mum told me that it was 75 metres tall. We started climbing and about at 29 steps mum chickened out. It was only dad, Maeve and I. Once we got half way we were already huffing and puffing. Mum from down below was yelling at me to come down but I yelled no. We were climbing and I almost slipped. Up the top it was so beautiful I lost my breath it was that amazing (it was also because of all that climbing). But climbing down was even better…hooray touch down and off we go.  “Let’s do the Gloucester Tree” we all shouted. And we did, but it was only 60 metres high.

Cute factor.

A Quoka.

Hi Camilla, just thought you'd like this! The winery was lovely, and we tasted some "noice plonk".

At Cape Naturalist.

Russ playing "hide and seek" in the Karri forest.

Cape Leeuwin

As the sign says...

Watching Mum worry when we were half way.up the Bicenntennial Tree

Made it to the top! 75 metres up

"Mum....we made it!"...where is she?

So much for OHS!

Miss Maeve on her way back down to earth.

A Tingle tree. Only 3 species and they only grow in the South West of WA

Even after a severe fire, they still can survive. This tree is alive and well, despite the enormous burnt out base!

"Driving" through a Tingle tree just like the old days

Tree walk in the "Valley of the Giants" Mum could do this one.

Gets to 40 metres above ground level.