Exmouth to Carnarvon

Week 21

Life is tough

Exmouth to Carnarvon

beach pal

Sunday, a new week and a new camping spot. We find ourselves at Yardie Creek, just outside the Cape Range National Park. Neither of us is happy with the idea of getting up in the wee hours of the morning to line up at the national park entrance to try to get a spot camping in the park.

Umbrella stackhousia

Some camp spots are lovely and others are a bit more ordinary, so we opt for the more comfortable option.

beach view

We head down to the far reaches of the park to Yardie Creek, not to be confused with the Homestead where we are staying. There is a canyon walk here and the intrepid can see the birds nesting on the cliffs. If you are even more intrepid you can drive over the tidal creek and move into a wild life habitat and an old homestead, but the water is still quite deep and we see several hopefuls decide discretion is the better part of valour and turn around.

Margaret and Chris have a spot at Tulki Beach, not quite as nice as their previous camp at Pilgramunna, but they are happy enough. We give them some water to extend their stay. They are becoming seasoned campers, putting us to shame. They join us on Sunday night for roast night in the restaurant here. Everything is provided except for drinks and even hearty eaters are fully satisfied. Wim, you would love the portion sizes. They meet another couple we have got to know, another Brian would you believe and his partner Liz. Guess who turned up at Tulki on Monday and are now new neighbours to Chris and Margaret? Small world.

Tulki camp

Tulki Neighbours

We had a rather challenging canyon walk on Monday at Mandu Mandu gorge.

 Lucky it was a loop as there were a couple of steep climbs up that I wouldn’t have liked to repeat in the other direction. It was one of those “Yes! I have done it!” days. Margaret and Chris are more like Brian, mountain goats, and I labour along behind.

Dit it

There are lots of lovely beaches and snorkeling areas here. The water is a ‘smidgin’ cold for our far northern tastes, but there are plenty of takers for the clear turquoise waters. The waves curl over the Ningaloo Reef close to shore to add a spectacular show.

Standing in the water, the fish swim up to you. Are we studying the fish or are they checking us out is the question? It is an awesome experience, even without snorkel and mask.

At your feet

On Tuesday we tackle a calmer canyon walk that Chris and Margaret show us. The main attraction here are the rock wallabies. They are quietly watching our progress from safe heights. It was a delightful day.

wallaby watchers

Wednesday is “Harry Butler” Day. We break with the routine and head in the opposite direction to the park. We first visit the wreck that was used for target practice in WW2. Fishermen stand in the shallows and try their luck.

We are treated to the sight of an echidna by the road trying hard to be a spinifex bush.

Emus turn up at practically every corner. They are are plentiful here as the boab tree was in the Kimberly. We also see giant pelicans, but not through the camera lens.

We decide to tackle the Charles Knife Road, heading along a spectacular rim road intersecting two big, deep, spectacular gorges. The road ends at the spot where oil drilling was conducted in the 1950’s, unsuccessful here but on the jackpot further south.

Our Harry Butler day is complemented by the sight of a hairy caterpillar, along with lots of birds. The most unusual sight was a family of goats, the male with a huge set of horns that easily straddled three metres.

After stopping to collect mail and shop for supplies for the net few days free camping ahead, we stopped at the Vlamingh Head Lighthouse. We are rewarded with the sight of whales just off the coast frolicking close by.

Just as well the day to follow was a moving day, as it would have been hard-pressed to be as interesting. The memorable part of the day was stopping at Lyndon River Rest Area. It was open and dry and dusty. Silly ‘ol me opened every window and hatch to cool down when we were struck by a particularly strong willy willy. The caravan shook, the blinds sucked in and out and rattled, Brian mouthed hurried warnings, but all too late, we were engulfed in a flurry of dust, several inches thick throughout the van. It was time for housekeeping after that little episode.

Nearby was an appealing body of water enticing us over, hoping bids would also be attracted in the late afternoon. The ground was cracked, seemingly dry, but deceptively so. The narrow cracks were like a natural mosaic and easy to walk on, but where the tiles were large, feet slid on the slippery surface and mud caked our feet as we slid toward the water. Not a good idea for a casual afternoon walk. We had seen a flock of sheep passing through as we arrived, their cloven hooves making very deep imprints into the slippery mud.

Friday found us wending our way to Quabba Blow Holes and the camping area here. We are beginning to see many more wildflowers. There are huge patches of white paperlike daisies that look like snow cover. Purple flowers delight the eye and whet our anticipation for the weeks to come when we finally get to explore the heart of wildflower territory.

The Blow Hole at Quabba is spurting high, the seas quite rough, but not enough to wash over the platform we are standing on to view the spectacle. People have died here, so caution is important.

There is no sign saying “campground” but we turn left and follow our noses. Luckily we find two spots, but we are going to have some problems to solve when we leave getting the caravan high enough to put the tow ball back on, but that will be a future tale.

We have seen fish surfing across the top of waves and green turtles trolling close to shore. Fishermen with huge surf rods are set up on the beach, but we see so many bait fish we wonder how they can compete for the bigger fish.

Wildflowers festoon the sand ridges here. We walked to the lighthouse and encountered bunnies, lots of birds and even what looked like a scorpion. Tracks , both animal and human tell a myriad of stories on the path to the lighthouse.

The biggest delight was a pod of whales passing by, slapping their flukes on the water, squirting water from their blowholes and the younger ones breaching high out of the water. It was a real treat.

Margaret and Chris joined us for dinner on our first night here as we had a roast to share. Brian’s culinary skills are really appreciated. He is becoming legendry and has even managed to get some pretty good crackling on those pork roasts. We even got a very nice meal the next night too. I’d starve without him.

On our final day, leaving to go to Carnarvon we were happy to find the caravan hitched up far easier than it had unhitched.

We then stopped at the blowholes for a final cuppa to be given a special farewell show by a pair of whales which leapt out of the water, rolling and flipping. It was really magnificent. No pictures, sorry, only a special memory.

So one week ends and a new one begins. Kennedy Range and Monkey Mia here we come. Tune in next week for the next installment.

In rapture today

The happy Nomads