Day 9 17th June 2006

Eve : The wet sand at low tide stretches out through the fog. And we’re off, chasing the sunrise.

We stop off for some sightseeing at Murphy’s Haystack and Ted observes the vast expanses of this land from the comfort of Chewie’s backpack. “She’s dragged me everywhere, since that Xmas when she first grabbed my ear and dragged me towards her. Now he’s doing it too. Although I must say, this is pretty good stuff.”

Ted gets to ‘walkabout’

Relaxing at Murphy’s Haystacks

Murphy's Haystacks

Murphy’s Haystacks

Two white-bellied eagles, quite rare from what we have read, circle above the coastal cliffs with the fading half moon (still high in the sky in the afternoon) behind them. This has to be a memory picture. It takes time to stop. Even at 50 kmp/h.

Point Labatt Conservation Park is definitely worth a looksie. (‘Looksie’ is from the phrase: ‘Look. See?’) From the lookout on the cliffs, high above the beach, a sea-lion breeding colony relaxes in the afternoon sun. A young pup calls out to mum. A bull rolls over lazily on the flat rocks, while sharks lurk out in the ocean.

Point Labatt Sea Lion colony with a view over the Southern Ocean

Sea Lion siesta

No human footprints on this beach

Osca : This park and aquatic reserve protects a special colony of Australia’s only endemic pinniped (seals and their relatives), as this is the only site where the Australian sea-lion breeds on the mainland. These sea-lions are Australia’s most endangered marine mammal and one of the rarest pinnipeds in the world.

Point Labatt was dedicated as a reserve in 1973 as a result of the concerns of the owners, Ellen, Myra and Ron Freeman, that illegal shooting was threatening these endangered mammals. They donated the land to the South Australian National Parks and Wildlife Service so that the seal-lions could be better protected.

Eve : Cotton wool ball clouds glide over the horizon. The sand dunes atop the coastal cliff are behind us. The vegetation changes. The sun beats down, drying off yesterday evening’s drizzle.

On a gravel, unsealed, road the conditions are always changing. Here it is like it was corrugated iron, where the dips and grooves form as vehicles drive along them, weathering them down into this corrugated pattern. Let’s just say it’s quite bumpy, at any speed. (Out here Chewie averages anywhere between 10 km p/h and 50 km p/h. He stops quite frequently.)

More like 10km per hour along THIS STUFF

Ted thinks that the passing drivers are quite enthusiastic in returning his waves. I see their faces stretch into broad smiles as he does.

As Chewie walks off into the distance to capute yet another perfect shot, those cotton wool ball clouds gather and reflect in the calm waters of the bay. “Tidyoo, tiddy – yoo. Eet, tee tee, eet.” Or ‘chirp, chirp’, for clarity.

‘Cotton wool ball clouds glide over the horizon’

Scattered windmills grace the landscape. This time sand dunes supply the backdrop.

A scattered windmill

We stop at Streaky Bay for phone calls and supplies. There’s no digital mobile coverage here, so we make good use of our change containe, before we take a walk along Perlubie beach. I understand why the beaches seem so white here. At a closer look the sand is mingled with tiny white shell. And you ought to check out the view from this swing. “Sky, horizon, beach, horizon, sky, horizon, beach, horizon sky”, the swing squeaks rhythmically as I float through the air. I let my head drop back and watch the clouds in the sky move back and forth. I feel as if I were eight years old again.

‘Sky, horizon, beach, horizon…’

We arrive in Ceduna at the end of the day and settle in one of the many caravan parks for the night. In the morning Chewie has a long hot bath, which releases his tense shoulders and neck. He caught a chill the other evening and the driving and holding camera steady and updating blog and sleeping in a smaller than usual space, has given him a ‘pain in the neck’.

Sunset over Murat Bay

Osca : Set on the shore of Murat Bay, Ceduna, with a population of just over 3,800 is the westernmost town of any size in South Australia. The name Ceduna is a derivative of an Aboriginal word “Chedoona” meaning “a resting place”. It is a fitting name as it is the ideal place to finalise preparation for the journey across the Nullabor to Perth (some 2,000km).

Ceduna was proclaimed a town in 1896. It’s original name Murat Bay was given by a French explorer Nicholas Baudin, in 1802. The original settlement was at Denial Bay, about 10km west of the present Ceduna. Provisions for the early pioneers were unloaded from ships anchored just off shore and brought onland in wagons at low tide. For some time, the Denial Bay pier was the second longest in South Australia.

Eve : In the bright morning 47 carriages, carrying gypsum (used to break up clay into soil), clattered past along the railroad track. “How’s the ticker mate?” the engineer joked in a typical ausiie larikan way, having just scared the heck out of Chewie, making him jump, as he blew his engine horn.

“How’s the ticker mate?”

As we drive into the center of the town we have our first sighting of aboriginal people.

Ceduna seems a sad place. The people do not seem as open and friendly as in Coffin Bay. I’m not sure why as yet.

But just on the other side of the small bay lies Denial Bay. A brightly coloured playground and a long jetty (once the second longest in South Australia) greet us. I see pairs again.

The silos of Ceduna, which is surrounded by cereal country, dominate the view.

View from Denial Bay

Day 8 16th June 2006

Eve : Dawn breaks again over the bay. It’s a cloudy morning today and the cloud cover overnight kept the temperature quite warm: it’s 8 degrees. A regular heat wave, in comparison to the previous few nights.

Shane, who’s building his family a house, extended a sincere handshake when he came overwith his dog to have a chat and check whether we’ve survived the cold night. He had been living off the land with his wife and children and recently sold his farm and moved to Coffin Bay. “I just work half days now. It’s great. No tax invoices, no orders. I go to work. I come home. That’s it. I’m done. The rest of the time is for me and my family.” Now there is a man who has his priorities right.

Shane is building a new house

Sure enough, as I looked over later in the day, Shane had come home. He, his wife and one of his children, still too young to go to school, and his dog, were all on their front porch, together. He gave a long-held wave as we headed off further on our adventure.

Along the way, with a smidgen of a turn off the main road, a small sandstone church stands on the top of a hill of native daisies. Clouds roll over the 360 degree sky. There is a farmhouse between the trees, with horses standing by in the paddock. Then a abandoned old sandstone farmhouse, with an outhouse in the back. Sheep, sheep and more sheep. A dry rock fence, for a little human ingenuity. Then, sheep, sheep, and more sheep. And the sun setting before us.

Small stone church

The occasssional car (or ute, or 4wd or truck-trailer- trailer) passes us and, more often than not, the driver happily waves back to Ted.

Though there are tweetering songs and calls most prominent of the sounds is a bleeting lamb and the calming deep response from the ewe.

The tweets and chirps continue to sing to the setting sun, as it lights up the base of the cloudsl. Waves of the “Southern Ocean” pound behind the sand dunes.

A windmill stands in the paddock, a typical Aussie scene. Elliston lies 5 kms ahead.

Windmill sunset

Giant cacti jut out against the twilight sky.

I thought I’d seen all that could be seen for the day. The highlight came in the dark. Dolphins swam in Venus Bay. Lit by the lights of the long jetty they were competing for the fish with the fishermen.

I seemed to be the only female that accompanied her man. There were 2 dolphins But only lone fishermen on the jetty. In the caravan park in the morning I could only see men, packing cleaning up, organising. All freshly shaven and ready for the day. But where are the women? They must be around somewhere. Wherever they are, they are not with their men. That is, they do not seem to share in the packing and unpacking duties, and they obviously have little interest in fishing.

Day 7 15th June 2006

The magpies sing their greeting to the dawn of another day. It’s very cold. It’s very frosty. Even chillier than yesterday at –1.5 degrees.

“I’ve got to get up!” and he’s off. The sun has barely cleared the gentle hill of coffin Bay and the children are already gathering at the bus stop. Some get dropped off by mum or dad. Some walk dragging their feet over the frosty wooden bridge, then looking back at the patterns thy have made.

Morning frost

Another couple passes the park and stops to say hello and have a chat with one of the neighbpurs. I sit observing. Soaking in the harmony and calm.

“Hi sweetheart, I’m back.” Chewie greets me. While he was updating the Blog and burning more images onto the next CD’s I’ve been merrily typing away, transcribing my notes. Sitting in the back of the van, in a half lotus position or a wide 2nd (that’s yoga and ballet – for those who rely purely on chairs),my trusty laptop propped upon folded blankets. “I’m almost done.” I replied. I got completely lost in time.

“Oh, shit!” exclaims Chewie as he turns the key in the ignition. “Click”. “Click.”

Who’s the dill? “It’s quite elementary my dear Watson. When you’re on the computer and it’s in the charger charging, you’ve got to turn the engine over every so often to re-charge the battery, so the van can start,” I think to myself. “Great, and we were wanting to go to the National Park and Coffin Bay surrounds for the afternoon light show.”

Chewie took it quite well. Never fear. We have roadside assistance covered and a strong signal on the mobile phone. I made the call. A friendly voice asks: “and which state are you in?” ‘Panicked’ would have been a good thing to say. “South Australia,” I answered. “And the name of the town?” he asked. “Coffin Bay.” I replied. “Is that C-O-F-F ..as in..?” “Yes” I said. “As in dead. Dead battery, that is.” We both giggled.

Before the hour was through Chris rocked up in his jeep. ‘Coffin Bay Motors & Marine’ to the rescue. A polite and knowing look and a moment later the ignition turned over and the motor was running.

Chris to the rescue

I guess we take our electricity supply a bit for granted. We are quite spoilt in the city.

Before he left Chris suggested that we check out Fowler’s Bay, past Ceduna. The twinkle in his eyes suggested a tranquil place. We shall see.

Meanwhile, it was back to what has become a routine timetable. Chasing the sunset.

Day 6 14th of June 2006

The sun rises over a frosty morning as the fog rolls over the bay. The temperature is - 0.5 degrees Celsius.

Morning fog rolls over the bay

We find ourselves on one of the lowest tips of Australia (not counting ‘Tassie’). Chewie literally chases the sunset in Coffin Bay National Park. And so he should.

I have tried to catch each sunrise and sunset for many a year, wherever I had been. The view that I have had over the last ten years, over the rooftops and fences of Melbourne, though through trees, just cannot compare. Now my eyes are being spoilt by the 360 degree views and not a power line in sight. And all that space.

Coffin Bay sunset

Day 5, 13th June 2006

Eve : A National Park stretches out towards the sea, where the waves beat against sandstone cliffs, and converge around a not so far off island. Emus walk calmly, in pairs, between the shrubbery that surround the sand dunes. A variety of birds frolic in the afternoon sun.

Emus walk in pairs

And just nearby is that small fishing town I had imagined. True paradise. A bay within a bay, within a bay. The views in every directions illicit a calmness in the soul. One can really take a breath of fresh “Eyre” here. And though they’re are menace on the road, the kangaroos roaming freely through the caravan park in the early evening are very romantic.

We are definitely staying for a few days. So first, some laundry.

Gloria was only too happy to lend some wooden pegs and pointed out the best ‘Hills hoist’ where the sun shines all day long. “We’re in that caravan up there, the ‘Travelling Dinosaur’. We’ve been here since last year.”

Martin was a sheerer in his younger days. “I could do 200 on a good day,” he boasted. We asked him if a sheep can get up on it’s own if it had rolled over on its back. We met a stray sheep on the road a day earlier. We stopped, but the poor frightened creature ran panicking from the sound of the van straight through a fence, rolled over on its back and then its side. We weren’t sure what to do. “The bugger should be right. Could have pink eye and not know where he was goin’. And unless he had toxemia (bloating) he’d get up in no time. They do this all the time”, he reassured these city slickers.
Took a walk along the marked out path from the caravan park . Oyster Walk. Aptly named for the bays are full of oyster beds. A school of tiny fish dart through the clear water. Grey crabs crawl over the sea grass.

Clear waters

An elderly man greets us with “D’ya think it’ll rain today?” There’s not a cloud in the sky, the sun is high in the sky and a pelican preens himself on the jetty.

A walk up the hill beyond the ”town center”, composed of the general store, the post office and the petrol station, is the industrial area. We hesitate for a moment. Do we really want to go that way? I ask Chewie. “Of course we do, that’s usually where the best rusty textures are” he said and we walked on.

The ‘industrial area’ as it is called, consists of a few large aluminum buildings. It is surprisingly clean, fresh and quiet if not for the occasional ‘ute’ or forklift driving by.

Wet suits hang over some railings, gloves lie in the warm sunshine, drying. Small rectangular black oval baskets are piled almost everywhere. This is the heart of the Coffin Bay oyster industry.

“Wet suits hang over some railings, gloves lie in the warm sunshine, drying”

At one of the sheds, people are busy unloading todays harvest. One of them approaches. “G’day, we’re from Melbourne, this looks fascinating. Mind if we take some pictures?” we ask. “No worries, go for it.” says Bill.

Bill is the man who makes sure that the city folk can order their fresh “Dozen Kilpatrick” when they go out for dinner at the end of the week. Except for a green and red knitted beanie he wears atop his wind-blown, suntanned face, he is all in blue. The colour of the sea. Blue pants (no center creases), blue jumper (with a zip up roll neck for those chilly mornings). “It’s 15 kms out to the oyster beds in the bay”. We asked how they cope with the cold mornings. It was -.5C overnight. “The water temperature is 11 degrees today. It’s warmer in than out. But when the sun comes up and hits the bay it’s glorious.” he said with a smile on his face and a twinkle in the eye.
Chewie is fascinated. The boat gets towed from the jetty to the shed come factory on the top of the hill in the industrial sector. Two men unload each of the beds and empty them into a computerized sorting machine. A screen shows each individual oyster as it passes through. A gloved pair of hands at the other end does a final human check and discards the ones that aren’t just right. “These guys are gonna get picked up this afternoon to go to Port Augusta and then on to Melbourne. And other places like Sydney and that. They’ll be there by Thursday.”

Bill is the man

The post office has a Community internet center, run by volunteers from the community for the community. “No mail today, Dan.” “No worries.” I recognized him by his blue beanie. It was the man who asked about the rain. “Maybe tomorrow”, he said with a mischievous wink.

A true community. Where people walk in pairs, just like the emus.

Bush Camping

Eve and Osca have made it to Ceduna, the last decent sized township before the mighty Nullabor.

Staying put for a few days, "bush camping" and working on photos (500 to sort through and clean up). Next blog update probably Friday.

Luke (Kalgores)

Away, away.

Back in afew days, when we find another internet cafe.

We'll miss this place

It's been pointed out that it is rather confusing to work out who is who from our writing.

There are three of us on this trip.

Eve, Osca and Ted (Eve's teddy bear).

Eve is also known as Watson,
Osca is also known as Chewie or Rubblesby when in 'holiday' mode.

Eve is the main scribe, Osca occasionaly dabbles.
Osca takes the photos, Eve keeps an eye, making sure Osca doesn't fall off a ledge trying to get the 'perfect' shot.
Ted waves to people and puts smiles on people's faces.

Is that clear? Good. Now let's get on with the Walkabout.


Last day at Coffin Bay,

One of the nicest places we've ever been to. The local people have been very welcoming and we really enjoyed our stay. Time to move on...

But before we leave, there are a few more pictures of this part of the world.

COFFIN BAY

Coffin Bay wakes to a foggy morning.

Heading out for breakfast.

COFFIN BAY NATIONAL PARK

Where the beaches go on for ever,

Eucalypts are flowering,

Emus scurrying,

and the Sun is setting on another beautiful day.

More pictures

Moon over Port Augusta and the Flinders ranges.

Blue skies over Coffin Bay.

Coexistence.

Rugged coastline.

Blue carnations (not really).

Pink surprise on the side of the road.

... sure is.

The world must be full of mechanics.There is a Mechanics Institute building in just about every town.

Day Six - I think

Been in the water too long ? Looking kind of rusty.

The locals are inquisitive.

Pelicans love it here too.

Coffin Bay is perfect for fishing and Oyster farming.

Coffin Bay has provided three days of glorious weather so far this week, so we've stayed on.

Met some locals, Martin and Gloria, Martin has sheared sheep all his life 'Two hundred a day in my younger days' he said proudly. He stopped when his hips 'gave up the ghost' and the two of them settled in the local caravan park and have been enjoying Coffin Bay for the last 6 years. Can't say I blame them :)

Bill, runs an Oyster business. He heads with his crew to collect the oyster beds some 15 km up through the crystal clear bays. Today's oysters will be on Melbourne dining tables in 2 days.

No need to unload boats at the jetty when you can drive them to your workshop.

Some oysters are still sorted by hand.

There is a strong sence of comunity here. The internet cafe is a community innitiative. When the government privatised Telstra (phone company), some of the proceeds found their way to communities like this one and funded the hardware.

Staffed by voulunteers, the entire community can have broadband access to the internet.

People cooperate here, know each other by their first names, walk in couples and are welcoming to travellers like us.

Frost paints the leaves white.

Morning fog rolls into the bay.

The Coffin Bay National Park is picture perfect. I felt like a kid in a candy store. Awsome landscapes, amazing textures everywhere I pointed my camera.

Day 4 - 12th June 2006

Day 4
12 JUN 06 Monday evening

Onwards it is then. The further away from any town one is the more waves one gets from approaching drivers. Ranging from just a slight movement of the index finger off the top off the steering wheel to an enthusiastic wave. Ted, who has come along for the trip and sits right in front where he’s got a great view through the windscreen, would like to get in on the act. “I want to wave back! Can I wave too? Can I? ” Maybe there is a way of “remotely” helping him raise his paw in acknowledgement. A bit of fiddling and thinking and very soon a raised paw (assisted with a dowling rod and some blu-tac) solicits waves and begins to put smiles on many a face.

A funny comment from Chewie as we drive past another vast paddock where the sheep are all lined up in a single row: “See, they do follow each other – like sheep.”

Every so often, very often, there’s another view or texture to be captured. A walk down to a beach in Louth Bay leaves me mesmerized. Of course I’ve been to a pretty beach before, but just on the tip of the rocks that jut out of the sand is a number of sea birds. And an albatross glides gracefully across the sky and lands just a few feet away from me on the calm water.

No more than a quick stop at the “Deli” for milk and such. I had imagined Port Lincoln differently. Unfortunately the greed of the city has stretched even to here. The corner shops are disappearing and the big stores, with “lower” prices to attract more “customers” are taking over. The street side cafés are filled to the brim with “must be seen” trendies. The air is filled with fumes and the noises of industry. This is why we left Melbourne. This is not what we came to see. Not exactly a quiet fishing harbour. What’s the quickest way out of town? E

Day 4
12 JUN 06 Monday evening

29km south of Cowell, lies the small town of Arno Bay. Colourful signs entice the approaching traveler at regular intervals. A resident artist has been quite busy. Bases of street lights throughout the town have various animals painted on them in vivid colours and a stunning mural graces the side of one of the buildings in the main street.

By now, the landscape changes once more from the bleak endless, rather monotonous flat plains to that of rolling hills and farmland the further we travel south along the Eyre Peninsula coast. The road follows the coastline past Tumby Bay to Port Lincoln, our next destination.

On arrival to Port Lincoln, it becomes quite clear that it is a holiday destination. Guest houses, motels and seaside apartments sprinkled through the town. The main street sporting outdoor café’s with smartly dressed holiday makers enjoying cafe late’s flavoured with traffic fumes – just like Melbourne. Not quite the ‘outback’ holiday destination we were looking for.

Just 36 km beyond Port Lincoln, lies Coffin Bay. The difference between the two could not be more striking. Scattered bays and long sand dunes form the Coffin Bay National Park and we may just hang about for a few days and make it our home base whilst exploring the natural wonders of the Eyre Peninsula southernmost coastline. But that’s for tomorrow. O.

Day 3

Day 3
11 JUN 06 Sunday evening

Set out from Tailem Bend early and headed to Adelaide (capital of South Australia), 99km away.

Arriving in Adelaide on a Sunday morning makes one realise that not all cities are populated with insatiable consumers who demand 24 hour shopping seven days a week. Sunday mornings are for sleeping in and taking it easy.

Not so for Osca, desperate to find an electronics store to get a new flash card reader – but this is Adelaide, sleepy Sunday morning Adelaide. After some searching we found one. Lucky, they are open Sundays, but not until 11am. What does one do in Adelaide for 2 hours?

I won’t tell, you’ll have to go to Adelaide to find out for your selves.

Finally, a new card reader. Boot up, install drivers, don’t hot-plug anything, restart, insert card…

Nothing. Laptop locks up.

Ok, must have done something wrong.

Uninstall drivers, shut down, reboot, install drivers… yada, yada.

Still nothing.

Take card reader back to store. “No problem sir, you can exchange it for another”

Boot up, install drivers, don’t hot-plug anything, restart, insert card…

Nothing.

The store ‘guru’ was helpful “Looks like windows 2000 is causing a short and burning out the card readers”.

Great! This is a major spanner in the works. If the photos can’t be transferred from the camera onto the laptop, then I am stuck with a very limited storage and the whole idea of being able to edit, transfer to CD and mail photos has just become complicated.

Plan B then. There is no plan B.

… and we’ve been in Adelaide for 6 hours now.

Ok, decision time. We’re 700km into a 12,000km trip, it might be worth going back, getting the laptop conflict sorted out and heading out again in a week or so.
Or
Stay in Adelaide and get it fixed. Today is Sunday, tomorrow a public holiday, the earliest anyone can have a look at it would be Tuesday and even then I am assured the operating system might become unstable.
Option 3, keep going and hope to find internet café’s or computer stores in the regional towns and have them transfer the card content onto CD’s. More complicated, but doable. Option 3 it is. Picked up an extra flash card, that’ll give me just over 700meg of storage (about 7 days of photos). Let’s go with that. I’ll just have to compile and edit them when we return.

Port Augusta (about 300km northwest). It is one of the best places to take photos of the Flinders Ranges at sunset. We should just make it.

We arrived in Port Augusta just as the sun touched the horizon.
Now what ? That’s right we’re on our Walkabout. Brought a special coin just for this occasion. ‘Heads’ we go left on to the Eyre Peninsula, ‘Tails’ we go right and head to Coober Pedy.

Heads it is.

Slight problem. The sun has just set. Past Port Augusta is the true outback. No fenced off farms, just vast expanses of low shrubs and Kangaroos.

We’ve all seen photos of Kangaroos, lying about dozing in the warm Australian sunshine? That’s because they are tired from all the hopping they do all night.

They are most active during dawn and dusk, when they are the hardest to see and during the night they hang about roads enjoying the residual heat stored in the bitumen, or just going about their business not recognising any boundaries such as roads or fences.

Rule number 1 for outback driving at night – Don’t !
Unless you are sitting on top of a 36 wheel road train with giant ‘bull bars’ on the front of it.

Kangaroos are not the brightest of creatures when it comes to ‘collision avoidance’. When startled, they don’t ‘hop off’ in the opposite direction, they use their evolutionary gift instead. ‘Apply spring action and leap’ – in any direction, as long as it is unpredictable. A personal encounter with a Kangaroo about 4 years ago just outside of Mildura has taught me that.

Well, Port Augusta is about as exciting after sunset as Adelaide before 11am. We headed west into the night. 75km to Whyalla.

Option 2 for night time driving in the outback – pretend you are in a school zone. 40 to 50 km is about as fast as you’d want to go and still be able to distinguish a ‘small bush’ shape from a ‘kangaroo shape’ and stop in time to avoid an unpredictable leap.

Option 3, wait until a road train (a truck with a trailer, trailer, trailer, trailer) goes in your direction. Hook up, follow and let them clear the path.

Whyalla is a port town dominated by a petroleum refinery and an oil tanker terminal at the northern part of Spencer Gulf. ‘Lights so bright, on all night’. Not the most idyllic location to spend a romantic evening. We hooked up with another road train and 106km later arrived at Cowell. Counted 3 kangaroos that we did see, probably more we didn’t and thanks to the road train, no encounters of the ‘close kind’.