Monday, February 21, 2011

Arno Bay Week 49

                Arno Bay Eyre Peninsula
                                       Week 49

We have had a casual week. Three days has turned into a week. Brian likes it  here because we have grass again. It is almost like we have been starved of grass for so long the prospect of moving to sand and dust again is not attractive to him.

In the windows of opportunity Brian has thrown a line in and tried to entice some fish or squid, but the weather is very ‘Melbournish’ - fine now and rainy and windy and cold in an hour then fine again in a few hours. Brian has broken the record for the number of times the awning has been taken out and replaced.

We have managed a few games of golf ($5- grass fairways- yippee) at nearby Cleve, some essential exercise for our ever expanding waistlines. Travelling north to Cowell we explore the town and enjoy a huge $10 lunch that is so huge we don’t need to eat again that day. We have become excuse people for more programmed exercise - it’s too cold, there’s too much seaweed on the beach, it’s too hot. The list goes on. Gail W will be pleased to know that after seven is get up time in SA and one day we awoke at nearly half past eight - unheard of. After all those 4:30 mornings in WA it is a big change - what daylight saving does for you.

The hint of fish lingers on the air, even when the fish cleaners have long left the cleaning station, but of course the faint hint is actually the seaweed. You do get to tune it out after a few days- a bit like living in Gordonvale in the mill season. That sugar sweet aroma is all pervasive for a week or so and then by the end of the season everyone says, “What smell?”
For the first few days, the fishing charter Fuzzwells was doing well. The fish cleaning station was abuzz with eager fishermen and prospective weather, but by the latter days of our stay here, there was sight nor sign of intrepid adventurers. Brian declined to go, saying you had to catch an awful lot of fish to justify the $180 pp pricetag - was deaf to the idea that is was the experience, so of course another chance to catch the big ones has got away. The locals were all complaining no fish are at the jetty or the river mouth anymore because of the fish feeding cages where the wild fish get an easy feed from the drop through.

Brian’s one complaint that the “pussy” on a lead bit him, how unfriendly is that. That’s what you get for being too friendly with someone else’s pet - be warned all you men out there.

Our park is friendly and hosts “events” like the $2 sausage (and fish) sizzle that allows guests to mingle and chat. We spoke with some would be 10 pound Poms who were rejected years ago, but have now come to holiday here thirty years on, buying a car and a caravan for their trip. Sunday finds us hoeing into pancakes and syrup, my favourite way to start the day. Now you know why the waistlines are expanding.

One of the parks drivers was very unusual. A Swedish Collie with special skills. His owners work at the embassy in Canberra, posted for three or four years. They had to buy a van so the dog could sleep inside and not been relegated to outdoors when they stayed at units. He gets a chance to drive, but hasn’t earned his full lisence yet.


Lifting our February spirits, we found out this week we are going to be grandparents again.  Adele will be having a baby in August and we have the first baby photo already. Looks like it is going to be another year to remember. We are thrilled and proud “Grandies” once again, or soon will be.

We are off to Whyalla tomorrow to get our warranty tyre fitted. Beaurepaires came through at last, even though we have moved states. We were going to the Flinders Ranges next but all the water from the north has closed the roads in the park so we will go to plan B instead and head for Adelaide and then hopefully Kangaroo Island if the weather permits.

Have a good week. I for one and ready to move, no matter what weather presents. Onward ho the Nomads.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Coffin Bay To Tumby Bay Week 48

          Coffin Bay to Tumby Bay

                          Week 48

We are finding it hard to believe. Four weeks short of a year away from home. Dennis and Col are deciding if they will have a return visit to the Burdekin Dam, which was virtually the first stop on out trip where the famous barra catch occurred.
Here in South Australia on the Eyre Peninsula it is a world away. Actually we are in the heart of wheat lands, though rolling tablelands all wheat brown or grey. Not really very inspiring. Grass is at a premium, so playing on a very well grassed golf course in Coffin Bay on Monday was a real treat. We had the course to ourselves and really enjoyed a few hours of the golfers “Aaarrrgh” and sometimes “Ahhh!” We even managed to forgive them the scrape “greens” as the putting surface. We will be lost when we return to normal courses.
The journeys now are small and we really appreciate moving day after some of the long hauls in WA. Tuesday finds us moving on to just north of Port Lincoln, really a northern suburb. The park is casual and roomy, but windy.
There is a jetty nearby, within walking distance where a few non windy moments allowed Brian to put in a line or two and catch his first squid. I could only feel sorry for the poor creature. I didn’t realize squid had such large soulful eyes. He also got the opportunity to capture some magic sunrise moments, red and gold shimmering on the unusually still waters.
We had two golf courses here to choose from, but not firing on all cylinders opted for the one north at Louth Bay - bad choice. It was like playing on the Nullabor again. I guess I was over it and if I have to play in conditions like this two many more times, my bad temper will get the better of me and I’ll through the clubs in the nearest bin. Do you get the feeling it wasn’t fun?
With the idea of taking our van to the National Park here for a few days, we took a drive and searched for suitable spots. The camps five book suggested one near the park entry, just off the bitumen, but there was little going for them. Further in, much further, after about 30km of very corrugated road, there was a fishermen’s camp spot but crowded and windy and dusty. We are becoming picky.

Venturing as far into the park as was possible we come across a lighthouse and a crowd of emus enjoying the delights on the bushes by the shore. I could only feel for the poor cassowaries back home after their rainforest has again been denuded. I hope the population can survive through this next ordeal.
After paying an entry fee for the park, driving for three hours we still haven’t found a picnic area and none are marked on the map. If they had a suggestion box they would have received a reminder that user pays is fine, but one facility in the park would be good. Lo and behold, ask and ye shall receive. On a whim on our turnaround, we call into September Beach and here are a number of newly built picnic spots and toilets. A great picnic spot, well appreciated and our faith in the SA National Park system has been restored.
Here we find some large camp bays, big enough for caravans, but the sight of brown snakes did it for me. The promise of water in some large tanks was also an empty one as not a drop poured from the taps. Combined with the corrugations to be endured, Brian got the idea I may need a lot of persuading to camp out, so that one “hit the dust”.

The ordinary, windy weather has hit us again as we head on another short journey to Tumby Bay. Merv told us we would fit right in here because the average age was 55. Brian said the fact it sounded like Tummy Bay was more in keeping with our current image.

Yes Tumby Bay looks like it has the potential to be a desirable destination, especially if you like fishing and boating. There is a huge new canal development here with huge homes and stylish boats, out of our league. The older part of town has many old style homes lovingly restored that look appealing, even in the blustery winds.
All week we think we have birds or possums on the roof. Turns out the wind is slowly turning the antenna so there a little clicking tapping noises. Not surprising the reception is patchy at best, even with digital tv.
Our final day in Tumby Bay and the sky clears. Fishing is still out because of the winds, but we drive on one of the tourist drives. We see an old water collection tank at the base of a walled granite outcrop, a smaller version of what we had seen at Hyden in WA at Wave Rock. The water here was for the steam engines that needed to refill.
The pelicans here gather by the fish cleaning station to demand a feed. They resemble the Russian cargo planes. They stretch credibility that they can actually fly. Some German tourists witnessing the feeding demands got a little more than they bargained for when they ventured to close and were regarded as competition for the fish. They were told in no uncertain terms by rather large snapping beaks to butt out or risk serious injury. No arguing with those birds.

We got the good news that we will get a warranty for the new tyre that blew a couple of weeks ago. It was a surprise as we had resigned ourselves to learning a consumers lesson- don’t listen to “experts” or you will pay for it, but luckily the assessor felt we deserved a break so we will get a replacement in the next week or so.
At the start of a new week, and hopefully with the weather gods on our side to Arno Bay and then Wyalla as we work our way up the right side of the Eyre Peninsula.

Keep smiling
The wind blown Nomads

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Streaky Bay to Port Lincoln Week 47

              Streaky Bay to Port Lincoln

                            Week 47

As we begin on journey down the Eyre Peninsula, we have encountered extreme conditions. Sunday found us coping with 48 in the sun and 43 in the shade. Dennis, you won’t believe it after that photo you sent, but we donned our togs and waded out to the bay. The water temperature was sauna like and we had to wade to thigh deep water, about 100m out to find comfortable water. Very pleasant cooling effect when you stand up in the air - instant cooling.

Streaky Bay is a very popular destination for holiday makers, even though the school holidays here are now over, and despite the heatwave.

Monday found us completing a couple of tourist drives, all on gravel roads to check out the areas bays and cliffs. Much of the time we are reminded of Mariah Island in Tassie, just a big difference in temperatures.

Luckily we are back to short distances between camping destinations. We only to to travel for a couple of hours to reach Elliston. The big plus here is grass, glorious grass and shade.

Because of Cyclone Yasi we have been somewhat distracted from touring this week. First we were worried about what could happen, and being so far away, we could only sit and keep our fingers crossed. The television coverage was very detailed, too much at times because you felt they had started a bit early and it was worse than waiting for a baby to be born, but I guess of of you experiencing the cyclone wish it had stayed away totally.

There are big silos here, but most of the park are fishermen, the other big attraction in the whole of the Eyre Peninsula, assuming you don’t get blown away.

We spend a pleasant three days here, feeling somewhat relieved our worst fears have not been realized. We were mentally preparing for driving home and cutting short the trip. Desiree in Innisfail, East Palmerston to be more exact came out the worst and communication at the moment is difficult as mobile coverage is bad and there is no way to recharge batteries. The power situation looks dire for her for quite a stretch, but fingers crossed, the school nearby will put her area up on the recovery list and it won’t be quite so long a wait as when Larry struck five years ago.

Moving further south in the peninsula, it is becoming less like the Nullabor and more like Australian bush. To finish the week and begin the next we head for Coffin Bay. Horrible name, but it was named after a friend of Flinders, nothing to do with shipwrecks and deaths.

It is a quiet little town, famous for oysters, and of course a fishing destination.

There is a national Park here with some two wheel drive destinations and lots of four wheel drive opportunities. We stick to the two wheel ones and limit our dune and beach wandering because the strong winds over the sand and the dunes batter you like a sandblasting machine. We stop to avoid emus a few times and let wandering lizards cross the road in peace. We are again in an area prolific with bird life.

Some galahs are having a day on the beach but find themselves sheltering on the roughly eroded cliff edges. The gulls by the water are jumping over the incoming waves like youngsters frolicking at the beach, so despite the wind, we enjoy our little exploration of the park.

Here’s hoping you all escaped the worst of the destructiveness of the cyclone, as well as your friends and family.

Have a good week

The relieved nomads.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Kalgoorlie to Ceduna Week 46

Kalgoorlie to Ceduna - Across to SA

                            Week 46

Sunday found us heading south to follow the Nullabor Golf Links trail. The first stop was Kambalda, a new up and coming mining settlement that has a century old history, but only recent economic action. There was s target through the bush in case you couldn’t see the hole, and so our golfing journey has really begun in the vein that it will continue.

There are some important rules. Don’t expect a fairway. Practice hitting in the rough. Don’t take yourself seriously and don’t expect a good score. By the time we finish this we will need a medal for perseverance against overwhelming odds. It will teach us to laugh at ourselves - a lot.

To complete our first day, we rolled into Norseman. If planning your next holiday, leave it off. Poor Norseman hasn’t a lot going for it except some metal camels and a lot of gold mining. Two holes are played here. As I was expostulating the state of the terrain and the effect it had on my golfing prowess ( a long way of saying throwing a “hissy fit”), a car rolled by where a couple of locals were playing their course by driving around. Great!

Debating how far to travel, we passed lots of trees festooned with stuffed animals. Seems as we headed further into obscurity, the methods of decorating the ever-diminishing trees grew more whimsical. We have seen thongs, socks and shoes, banners and streamers , handbags and french knickers.  But I digress. Fraser Range was our next destination, where The Sheep’s Back Par Three is played. At last a score not totally embarrassing . It is an interesting place in its own right, so we decide to have a short driving day and enjoy the ambience of the stop. Small world territory, because a couple from Perth and their friends are here also.

By day’s end we just snuck in a quiet drink in the open before a storm rolled over. For most of the night the wind blew hard. Brian laughed at my thoughts of us rolling over, saying it would be impossible with both of us inside - too much ballast. Just as well we still love each other , isn’t it?

To be honest, and to our relief, the skies have been cloudy since we left Kalgoorlie, so the temperatures are much more moderate. Breaking our ride every 100km or so for the next hole has been enjoyable, not excessive as we had feared during the heatwave conditions in the previous weeks.

So we have stopped at Balladonia where Skylab scattered a trail of debris in 1979 and the Caiguna at the end of the ninety mile straight where the longest stretch of straight road in Australia finally turns a corner.

It is near here that we encounter our first cyclist, off for a healthy ride. We also encountered a strange winged bug which was very interested in climbing Brian’s hairy legs, hence the  out of focus shots as Brian tried to snap and run. Feisty little fellow but like nothing we have ever encountered before.

The road does run straight and true and the scenery is changing over the days from scrubby bush to light bush to sparsely wooded grasslands. Green is the colour of the landscape and how many greens can I see, let me count the colours - leaf, sap, olive, grey green, silver green, green tinged with yellow or red and on and on. Some greens were so dark they looked black from a distance. So my brain deals with the monotony and remembers reading the Sesame Street Books to my boys when they were little. My favourite was the Count who loved to Count things, “”AAAArrrhhh!” So you can see the effect of long distances with minimal stimulation.

Cocklebiddy was our next golf hole, but there is little else besides the roadhouse and one golf hole unless you 4 wheel drive out to the Eyre Observatory. A lot of these road houses were established when Perth hosted a Commonwealth Games to make travel easier. It worked.

After dragging full water tanks for a while, we finally pull up in a roadside stop for a free camp. No toilets here, but peaceful and away from the highway enough to dull the noise of passing semis. Murphy’s Law prevailed and we were serenaded by some new arrivals with a piano accordian belting out some gypsy taps and barn dances. Sounded like our Australia Day type of music so Brian was nostalgic about not DJ’ing  the yearly Australia Day Dance. Actually he was rather good. Turns out they have been to Tamworth for the Country Music Festival and were streaking home to Albany. We think 300km is a big day and they were doing a thousand plus a day. No thank you!

Because the weather gods have been with us, free camping without power has been very comfortable. In fact we were snuggling under our doona long before the morning. The last night in Kalgoorlie when the heat of the day took all night to dissipate seems a long ago memory.

Australia Day finds us pulling into Madura Roadhouse where we are aware of the range of mountains rimming the Roe Plain. It is like an old coastline from time before man. The range of low hills continues for hundreds of kilometres and we will encounter it again at Eucla, where the “town” is built on top of the escarpment, overlooking the old Telegraph Station, long ago consumed by the sands.

At Mundrabilla we pass the earliest sheep station, still an operating business. The staff and kids at the Roadhouse are painted and wearing flags, ready for an Aussie BBQ and game of cricket at the end of the day. The population is small, but the spirit is alive. We have reached an area where myriads of bush like trees stand like chorus dancers in a Petite Foilage at Merlin Rouge, their fringed petticoats raised high to the sky in a can can flick.

Sorry Eucla, but you aren’t on our house buying wish list. The story of the Nullabor Nymph came about when a journo, broke at the time, told the hotel owner he could fill up the pub for at least a week. He sent out a story of a naked blonde running with the kangaroos and all hell broke loose. Ten days of fame until someone got wise and the truth was unfurled. This story set Brian’s imagination on fire and he wanted a recreation on the golf course. No dice. Still it is a busy stop over for travelers, but not a destination in its own right.

Thursday finds us traveling into a strong wind. Yesterday, Australia Day there was a scourge of trucks roaring down the highway in an eastward trajectory, so we spent much of the day pulling aside from them. Now the wind has stirred up, there are very few so that is the one bonus of the day.

For the first hour or so out of Eucla, we pass a surprisingly vegetated landscape, a symphony of green. It was a bit like traveling through a giant coral reef exposed at low tide. As the miles passed it became drier and the grasses took over, waving in the direction of the prevailing wind, like a crowd at a rock concert waving in time to the beat. 

Just beyond Eucla was Border Town, another roadhouse/motel for weary motorists. Here we have our first golf hole in South Australia, at the big Roo. Other than that there isn’t much else beside a lot of trucks and a border check for people leaving SA. We won’t encounter the fruit and vegetable denial until we reach Ceduna.

As we roll on, the Nullabor we have been expecting is becoming more real, but Brian is still disappointed. He imagined desert, but we have rolling grasslands. Where there are bushes they look like rocks and boulders from a distance and the trees such as they are are bent crazily to favour the direction of the winds.

The Nullabor Roadhouse is dusty and stark, and the wind has increased to gale proportions. To play the hole here you have to walk 600 metres through the paddock, and play back to the parking area. The reason is evident when we see a young lady with a very short skirt climb into a little Cessna and taxi past us to the side runway so she could take off into the wind. Good pilot, brave lady. To get the ball heading in the direction you want here, you have to aim about 90 degrees to the left and hit as hard as you can. By the time it lands the ball is in a straight line to the target, or even to the right, depending on the strength of the current gusts. This is the hole Merv had trouble on with the crow stealing his balls, but there are no crows today. They have been blown to Perth.

It won’t surprise you then that all the smart people, trucks and caravans are heading west. Never mind. We have found a bushy pull over area before our next golf stop to while the night away in seclusion. It is very pleasant. We have now hit the land of trees and rolling hills again, in fact not far from The Nullabor Roadhouse, our concept of the Nullabor was challenged again.

This morning we passed very close to the coast, but passed several photo stops because the haze hung low in the sky, leaching the colour and resting in a muddy pool by the horizon, like a painter who has run his finger over a too distinct charcoal line. Not good for photo crisp clarity. Sorry. In fact the head of the Bight is closed for refurbishment. Guess as it isn’t whale viewing season it is the perfect time to close it.

At Nundoo Roadhouse we play the Wombat Hole and find there are more than 2 million Southern Hairy Nosed Wombats and only 100 Northern Hairy Nosed Wombats ( from Queensland way). As they are nocturnal, we see evidence in the holes, but I guess even then it is too hot for them. They are quite different to the Common Wombat that you see in the eastern states. It is a long hole, 520m so as we have hit heatwave again, we are glad there is only one hole at a time.

Our last “On the Nullabor” stop is Penong Roadhouse. The town has windmills for the feature, not the Dutch sort, but the water pumping sort. You have to work here to live here. no comment. We were going to pull into Cactus beach for another free camp, but it is too hot and power is needed. The heat stays all night. We are in daylight saving here, so it is middle of the day sunlight well past 8 in the evening.

Cedunaa has the last two holes of the course that has been adding interest to our drive. We now have our proof of activity certificates and we can wait for suitable weather for our next golfing foray. There is a busy port here so there is a lot of rumbling of road and rail transport so if you are a light sleeper you won’t enjoy a stay here, but is is right there at the beach, so if you fish or just enjoy the water it has its good points.

The highlight of our visit was the wombat lady , Val Salmon, who takes in orphaned wombats and nurtures them to weanable size. She had an eastern red and some bearded dragons too, but specializes in wombats. There is a program underway to use the heavily populated Southerns to help breed the endangered Northerns, but it is a work in progress. She is disparaged by farmers who think they are pests, like our flying foxes and cockatoos and a scheme to get a fauna park for tourists didn’t get underway because the local aboriginals still see the wombat as bush tucker and didn’t feel their children should learn to rear them rather than see them as food. Poor lady needs a high profile supporter to help with the feed and bedding, and in these extreme 46 degree temperatures, coolers to help the animals stay at optimal temperatures. She’d care for them anyway, but we need a secret millionaire or a Dick Smith to help her with the nitty gritty. It is just like a new baby - two hourly feeds that take an hour to get a few drops. She deserves some support.

So another week comes to an end. We have ventured on to Streaky Bay. It is just as hot here, but you can see very popular with fishermen and sea-side holiday makers alike. If we are lucky we will experience it out of heatwave conditions, but we aren’t holding our breath.

Have a good week. We will.

The Roasted Nomads