FLOATING ISLAND - MAGICAL
INSIDE THE OLD COURTHOUSE
COSSACK COURTHOUSE
IRON ORE LOADING FACILITY
THIS IS SUNRISE - WA?Saturday, October 2, 2010
COMATOSE COSSACK
We awoke this morning to the sound of whales! The entire bay in fact had been transformed into a land of magic and mystery. Everything was so still, not a breath of wind rustled the leaves and not a ripple appeared on the surface of the water. Except that is, for the splashing of the great flippers as the frolicking giants slapped the crystal clear waters of the cove. Several of the gentle giants had found their way into our little corner of the world and were lazily playing in the sheltered waters. We could clearly hear, across the bay the whooshing of air being expelled as they surfaced and the slapping of their huge tails on the water.
The sky was a clear ice blue and was reflected so perfectly in the still waters that the horizon all but disappeared and the distant islands and ships appeared suspended in thin air. The water almost disappeared and it seemed we were perched on the very edge of the world looking across at a mysterious fantasy land that beckoned across the empty abyss.
Between us and these seemingly unattainable shores the whales played. Only when they moved could you see any evidence of ripples or water. Incredibly, thin spouts of water sprayed heaven-wards, the sound reaching we mere mortals on the shore seconds later. Time seemed suspended as we all stood in various states of awe watching the wonders of the natural world unfold before us.
I truly believe in Magic. Magic is to be found everywhere if we but look, but today we were blessed as mother nature tapped us on the shoulder and bade us to literally wake up and see the glory of the world we live in. A truly wonderful start to a Sunday morning.
Well, on a more mundane level, we took bus tour called ‘Port to Port’ – it took us out to Cape Lambert where Rio Tinto has an Iron Ore loading facility, and then across the way to the historical town of Cossack. Our driver, Nigel, was about as ocker as they come and gave us a broad and very down to earth commentary as we went. The Iron Ore facility seemed huge to me, and yet they are now in the early stages of increasing the size substantially. The growth in this region is incredible and they will be looking for literally thousands of people to work here as the industry expands. Being female, I confess to only listening with half an ear to all the technical information we were bombarded with regarding the machinery and plant, suffice to say it all looked quite incredible – I was more fascinated to see that right up against the loading wharf/jetty a mother whale and her calf were cruising the blue waters. It was reassuring to see the magnificent creatures so at home amongst our man-made structures. This is a busy port, loading ship after ship with the valuable iron ore product. It was a somewhat heart-rending to see so much natural beauty being diminished by mans’ hand, but I do understand that progress will and must happen. This place is vast and surely with careful management we can manage both the economic and natural resources in a sensible and productive manner. I have never been one for over-government, but in this instance I can see the need for constant vigilance to ensure that the ‘right thing’ is done.
From Cape Lambert we crossed to Cossack – some of the old buildings of this historic pearling town have been lovingly restored and are quite stunning. The buildings were all made from local rock (as they probably still should be) and have an intrinsic beauty. Certainly they are substantial buildings and apart from their roofs I suspect they are more or less cyclone proof. Cossack was all but destroyed by cyclones twice during its colourful life. The town, which had a high Asian occupancy, was originally a pearling town, the first in this region in fact, preceding Broome. Once Broome became established in pearling, Cossack turned to Turtle Soup – this industry, fortunately also failed – after that the town just pretty much lay down and died. It is a very pretty little spot, but we are told very prone to flooding during the cyclone season. A mangrove lined river/inlet wends its way along the road and the fishing there, both fin and shell, is said to be very good. I have already touched on the aboriginal slavery attached to both farming and pearling, so I won’t go there again this time. I found it very sobering however, to consider all the thousands of people who lived in the once thriving little town and how they have now all disappeared beneath the inimitable sands of time. All the hopes, dreams, loves and passions of those very real people, now not even memories, only certainties of times past. Humbling thoughts that remind us of just how transient our time here is.
On a personal note, thanks to our lovely musical friends Hank and Yvonne, I had my first public reading last night. I selected “Up to Mud” for the occasion and must say it was well received, albeit to a very small and probably slightly inebriated group of fellow travellers. Nevertheless, it was a small hurdle for me and I am grateful for the opportunity. Interestingly, the ladies seemed to identify with my sad plight (as related in the poem) and poor old Doug received several biting comments from the female members of the audience afterwards. In his own inimitable and wonderful way, he deflected all the little stings and took the whole thing in very good humour. He really is a beaut bloke you know.
Well, you will be amazed to see that is it for this time. I know! Super short! We are here until next Thursday and that will take us thru’ the bulk of the school holidays. From here we intend to move to Onslow and then on down the coast, homewards bound.
The caravan park we are staying at is The Cove Caravan Park and we have found it to be excellent. Dogs are welcome here and we are enjoying meeting some of these four footed travellers. The park is privately owned and run and is a credit to the owners. We do recommend booking during peak season tho’ as we believe they have to send people away in their droves. Just an added commendation is that we have not talked to anyone yet who hasn’t extended their stay here!
For now, look for the magic and live lovingly. Stephanie.
The sky was a clear ice blue and was reflected so perfectly in the still waters that the horizon all but disappeared and the distant islands and ships appeared suspended in thin air. The water almost disappeared and it seemed we were perched on the very edge of the world looking across at a mysterious fantasy land that beckoned across the empty abyss.
Between us and these seemingly unattainable shores the whales played. Only when they moved could you see any evidence of ripples or water. Incredibly, thin spouts of water sprayed heaven-wards, the sound reaching we mere mortals on the shore seconds later. Time seemed suspended as we all stood in various states of awe watching the wonders of the natural world unfold before us.
I truly believe in Magic. Magic is to be found everywhere if we but look, but today we were blessed as mother nature tapped us on the shoulder and bade us to literally wake up and see the glory of the world we live in. A truly wonderful start to a Sunday morning.
Well, on a more mundane level, we took bus tour called ‘Port to Port’ – it took us out to Cape Lambert where Rio Tinto has an Iron Ore loading facility, and then across the way to the historical town of Cossack. Our driver, Nigel, was about as ocker as they come and gave us a broad and very down to earth commentary as we went. The Iron Ore facility seemed huge to me, and yet they are now in the early stages of increasing the size substantially. The growth in this region is incredible and they will be looking for literally thousands of people to work here as the industry expands. Being female, I confess to only listening with half an ear to all the technical information we were bombarded with regarding the machinery and plant, suffice to say it all looked quite incredible – I was more fascinated to see that right up against the loading wharf/jetty a mother whale and her calf were cruising the blue waters. It was reassuring to see the magnificent creatures so at home amongst our man-made structures. This is a busy port, loading ship after ship with the valuable iron ore product. It was a somewhat heart-rending to see so much natural beauty being diminished by mans’ hand, but I do understand that progress will and must happen. This place is vast and surely with careful management we can manage both the economic and natural resources in a sensible and productive manner. I have never been one for over-government, but in this instance I can see the need for constant vigilance to ensure that the ‘right thing’ is done.
From Cape Lambert we crossed to Cossack – some of the old buildings of this historic pearling town have been lovingly restored and are quite stunning. The buildings were all made from local rock (as they probably still should be) and have an intrinsic beauty. Certainly they are substantial buildings and apart from their roofs I suspect they are more or less cyclone proof. Cossack was all but destroyed by cyclones twice during its colourful life. The town, which had a high Asian occupancy, was originally a pearling town, the first in this region in fact, preceding Broome. Once Broome became established in pearling, Cossack turned to Turtle Soup – this industry, fortunately also failed – after that the town just pretty much lay down and died. It is a very pretty little spot, but we are told very prone to flooding during the cyclone season. A mangrove lined river/inlet wends its way along the road and the fishing there, both fin and shell, is said to be very good. I have already touched on the aboriginal slavery attached to both farming and pearling, so I won’t go there again this time. I found it very sobering however, to consider all the thousands of people who lived in the once thriving little town and how they have now all disappeared beneath the inimitable sands of time. All the hopes, dreams, loves and passions of those very real people, now not even memories, only certainties of times past. Humbling thoughts that remind us of just how transient our time here is.
On a personal note, thanks to our lovely musical friends Hank and Yvonne, I had my first public reading last night. I selected “Up to Mud” for the occasion and must say it was well received, albeit to a very small and probably slightly inebriated group of fellow travellers. Nevertheless, it was a small hurdle for me and I am grateful for the opportunity. Interestingly, the ladies seemed to identify with my sad plight (as related in the poem) and poor old Doug received several biting comments from the female members of the audience afterwards. In his own inimitable and wonderful way, he deflected all the little stings and took the whole thing in very good humour. He really is a beaut bloke you know.
Well, you will be amazed to see that is it for this time. I know! Super short! We are here until next Thursday and that will take us thru’ the bulk of the school holidays. From here we intend to move to Onslow and then on down the coast, homewards bound.
The caravan park we are staying at is The Cove Caravan Park and we have found it to be excellent. Dogs are welcome here and we are enjoying meeting some of these four footed travellers. The park is privately owned and run and is a credit to the owners. We do recommend booking during peak season tho’ as we believe they have to send people away in their droves. Just an added commendation is that we have not talked to anyone yet who hasn’t extended their stay here!
For now, look for the magic and live lovingly. Stephanie.
Monday, September 27, 2010
PERSONAL PERSPECTIVES (WARTS N ALL)
Just thought it was time to re-visit the Personal Perspectives side of life. Gentlemen, you will most likely want to skip this one!
The last time I delved into these areas was 10th April – I just went back and re-read that blog and thought I would re-address some of the issues raised there.
Firstly, I must say, we are completely addicted to this lifestyle. In fact, we are seriously concerned as to how we will ever settle down to a ‘normal’ life again. What makes it so wonderful, well......I guess to be honest one of the main factors is that it is an almost completely irresponsible way of living. Day to day chores are minimal, I mean girls, it really doesn’t take much effort to keep a caravan clean and tidy. I must confess here that the van is not always clean and tidy and, you know what, I don’t really care. Doug is pretty carefree about outside matters and I have finally relaxed about that too. We do frequently resemble nothing more than a repository for rubbish, but hey, what does it really matter? Aside from the lack of hard yakka there is the constant supply of outstanding scenery, new places to explore, new people to meet (and easy escape from those you have had enough of), a lifestyle that is as social or anti-social as you wish to make it, lots and lots of lovely quiet time to spend doing whatever tickles your fancy, you know the stuff, reading, walking, ‘putering, knitting, sewing, writing, painting, sketching, watching TV or DVDs, or just simply lazing around watching the world and other people go by. That might bore some people to tears, but it suits me and him down to the ground. This is the first time in my entire life that I have been able to spend my time selfishly and not feel bad about it – I just love it!
Of course, we have had our hiccups. There is a knack to spending 24/7 together and there have been times (lots) when I have seriously wanted to scream and shout and smack ‘someone’ about – but these times pass. I wouldn’t dream of imagining that TBBITW doesn’t often feel the same about me – I know I can be a real trial at times. One of the secrets is to spend time doing different things – not always easy, especially if the weather doesn’t permit much outside activity. I know I am a pain for saying it, but our weather dilemmas have eddied around too much heat – I know it sounds odd, but really, I can’t expect the bloke to go out and play golf in the heat, especially as he has had a couple of nasty turns in the past due to dehydration on the golf course. Considering my beloved’s penchant for golf, it is surprising to note that he has not had the clubs out once this year! Truly amazing. Of late, I am pleased to report that the man has taken up reading. In fact he has polished off several books in very quick time indeed – I am thrilled and seriously hope it continues – I have always felt that he was missing out, not being a reader. Of course, it also helps that he can disappear into a book while I am otherwise occupied. We do seem to have more upsets around the time of the full moon – I have long been a believer in the detrimental effects of the full moon – of course the real question is..........who is being adversely effected, me or him? Naturally I think he is the one who goes slightly loopy, but the odds are the very fact that I think that, may very well indicate that it is me who goes ever so slightly around the proverbial bend. Anyone who has worked closely with the general public will emphasise with the ‘full moon theories’.
Health-wise, well, I have just read the last blog where I declared that we had been bad and were not going to be very good, no sundowners, smaller servings and more exercise, well I have to report that ...................................................................Nothing much has changed! Over the duration many such declarations have been made and many such good beginnings have been made with several days quick marching and a few smaller meals, but really in all honesty, I have to say nothing much has really changed. We do still avoid munchies with our evening libation as much as is politely possible, I have reduced the size of the meals somewhat, we do have less cooked breakfasts and more Sultana Bran and fruit, we are marginally more active than we were then, and do periodically start serious walking, but generally what happens, is exactly as it has over the last couple of days, the heat comes in and the walking goes out! My knees are giving me curry and of course that is a round-about in itself – pain equals less exercise equals more pain, etc, etc. I am pretty sure I have gained at least one ‘dress size’ and himself has increased the size of the veranda that shades his feet. On the up-side tho’ we are about as stressed as a couple of jelly-fish, so it can’t be all bad. We do monitor our blood pressure periodically and we both seem to be holding our own in that area. I have deliberately not checked sugar levels as I can usually tell when they are high. I have recently increased my medication in that area and feel pretty good at the moment. Of course in both the blood pressure and sugar departments, exercise is one of the best cures. I know! Why don’t’ I check my levels, ‘cause I believe that you can actually adversely affect your health by obsessing over the details. I do believe that you can ‘think’ yourself both well and ill.
Other than these issues, himself has an almost permanently sore head due to his constant head-butting of every part of the caravan both internal and external that his tall stance will reach. There is one particularly bone crunching shelf in the van which we have both had serious encounters with and have both suspected actual concussion as a result. The constant smoke and wind in the NT and upper North West combined to give me a fairly serious eye problem, which after some really poor advice from one chemist and then some excellent advice from another, I finally fixed with anti-biotic drops – it was quite nasty for a while as I couldn’t read, watch telly, go outside, etc, etc. In a caravan, that is quite a problem. It still niggles a little, but I keep an eye on it (sorry about the pun) to keep it at bay. Other than that and a few random scrapes and bruises, (twice from falling over on my part), we are doing well health-wise. We have both acquired fairly substantial tans, safely I might add, just by being out here.
Oh, I just realised that I had not mentioned alcohol intake, .........well, I still pretty much stick to my standard 2 per night, very light on the rum and a big glass of Diet Ginger Beer chock full of ice blocks which make it last just so much longer. The bloke fluctuates a bit, but lately has been quite demure in his intake. One interesting thing is that he had a couple of red wines the other night and had a shocking night’s sleep as a consequence, so we think that until we get back to Perth and are able to get hold of the preservative free stuff we might cross the red wine off the list. Interestingly while we were in the Territory and further north in WA we were restricted in what we could buy booze- wise (due to the ‘Intervention’) and I think we benefited by our enforced partial abstinence. We did buy a super luscious bottle of Kununurra Chocolate/Coffee Rum Liqueur which we have tippled over the last couple of nights, needless to say we only have the one bottle and that will soon be gone, so back to the somewhat straight and narrow after that.
Looking back at my first ‘Personal Perspective’ entry, it is interesting to see that I was feeling a bit like a fish out of water being out of WA, well as you would expect, that has passed and I now feel like ‘an Australian’ more than a West Australian. The parochial attitudes we left home with seem to have been left along the roadside somewhere. The only time they surface really is around footy matches, and hey, who would have missed the Eagles matches this year anyway? A good year to be away footy-wise! I have learnt to look forward to finding out what fresh produce is available in the different areas, and to be painfully honest, wherever possible I shop at Woollies, so nothing really changes. It was really only on the Eyre Peninsula that things seemed so different and I think that is due to that area really being a little world all of its own.
Family-wise, well I have become used to the fact that we do most of the contacting of children, rather than the recipients of phone calls from them. We accept the fact that a) they all have super busy lives and b) pretty much an out of sight out of mind attitude prevails. Kids, I am not saying you never call, only that you rarely call, and that is OK! All the family is doing well – Brett and Nom are expecting a new addition on Dec 3rd and we will be home in time for the big event. Just before I get to that, I have adopted the habit of sending all the younger grandchildren little parcels from time to time (and mother too) and I am told they just love getting real mail. I enjoy sending them the little bits and pieces and I think it is a good way of staying in their little memory banks.
So, that brings me to the point where we are heading home! Why you may well ask. Believe me, we also ask that question. It is not a matter of wanting to go home, trust me, but more a feeling of ‘The Right Thing To Do’! Had we continued across the bottom of the country and up the East coast as first planned, I doubt we would now be heading homewards, but as we were heading to Darwin ‘up the centre’, it became a question of which way to turn when we hit the top. Two things were paramount in our minds, the birth of a grandchild and the welfare of an ageing mother.
As far as the birth of another grandchild is concerned, had it just been a normal situation I would probably just have boarded a plane and flown home to see the new bub on his or her arrival, but due to the complex health status of my daughter-in-law we (read I) felt we should be there at the birth. Please do not interpret my actions as being in any regard negative, I just wanted to be there.
Regarding mum, well, that is far more complicated. From what I can gauge, she is doing reasonably well, BUT.................from what she tells me, she has not had a good year health-wise. Nothing super serious, just a lot of colds and viral infections. I sense that she is run down and is not able to get herself back to a strong position from where she can fight off new colds etc. Despite having some wonderful assistance from our very good friends Sue and Rob, she is still finding it tough not having us around for the little things. She is proudly independent and really doesn’t like to ask for help from people outside the immediate family (read Doug and myself). Mum turned 85 this year, in WA that means actually taking a driving test to determine whether or not you are still able to drive safely. This has turned out to be extremely traumatic for mum. Firstly, her eyesight is deteriorating to a degree where she has trouble focusing. She tells me that she can see quite well into the distance, but closer is more difficult – this means she cannot really see the speedo and has very little idea of her actual speed. She compensates for this by just working with the flow of traffic – not good enough for a driving test I am afraid. Mum has always had a tendency to drive to the middle of the road (many, many nightmares throughout my life!) and still does this, of course, her reaction times now are much slower and that is a considerable problem. She passed the Dr’s eye and cognitive tests, but sadly did not pass the driving test. Not to be defeated, she took the test again, twice and finally passed! This means she is on the road for another 12 months. Now, girls, I know you will know what I mean when I say I have mixed emotions about this. Part of me is so happy for her to have maintained a very important degree of independence but part of me is truly worried about her. Mum is a realist however, and has decided she will catch the bus some,
use the local help some and drive some. She will avoid (as she always does) driving in the rain or going anywhere where there is a heavy or dangerous traffic flow. Still.................................!
The whole experience was pretty awful for her. My mum has never until now, failed anything. At school, as she is so fond of telling me, she never achieved a pass mark below 90%! It was distressing for her to fail and of course it made her question her abilities in so many more ways. Old age can be a cow I think.
On account of all of the things that make up mum’s life, we are very inclined to think we may not be able, in all conscience, to leave Perth once we get back there. Needless to say, it has plunged us into considerable gloom, just thinking about it. Our pace has slowed considerably since we realised this may be the situation. If indeed, we are compelled to stay in Perth, we don’t plan to get rid of the van, but maybe to live in it outside of mum’s house, or at least somewhere very close-by. We will however take a trip across the middle early in the new year with the intention of having the car and van ferried across to Tasmania where we will spend a 2 or 3 months before coming back to WA to bight the proverbial bullet.
All of this raised some interesting and important questions about obligation and responsibility, where the lines are and what the expectations should be. A subject I might add which is discussed frequently with our fellow travellers, many of whom have similar situations. There is as far as I am concerned, only one real issue, LOVE. Mum and I, like so many other mother-daughters have had an often difficult relationship and I do mean difficult in the extreme. There have been periods in our lives where we didn’t even speak to each other and times where we both blamed the other for things and attitudes that we disagreed with. This is all irrelevant. My mother has no one else to really care about her, and although ‘we are what we reap’ and much of her situation may be of her own creation, that doesn’t mean that I can sit by and allow her to spend the last years of her life alone and afraid. I feel that is what many old people are, alone and afraid and it’s an awful indictment on our society. For as long as it is in my power, I won’t allow that to be mum’s reality. Aside from all that and regardless of old history, I love my mum and want to be with her when it really counts. Que Serra! Fortunately for both mum and me, Doug not only understands, but also agrees with my perspective.
Of course, having said all of this doesn’t mean that I am actually looking forward to being at home and with mum for a big part of my day. I am actually dreading it! Now that I have actually experienced having time for myself, I am just soooooooo not looking forward to losing that wonderful benefit. TBBITW will be OK as he will be able to bugger off and play golf at least a couple of time a week, but it will be more difficult for me. I can see that any action on our part will have to be prefaced by a long talk with mum to try to get her to understand that I will need my own time. Not an easy thing to convince mum of without her becoming miffed – something she is very very good at. Mum always believes the worst of people and is always quite sure people are out to upset or hurt her. Subsequently, as she often imagines this, it is frequently self-fulfilling. Oh well, I guess I am just going to have to deal with all of this when the time comes. No amount of fretting now will help anything, quite the contrary in fact. It occurs to me that I must sound so selfish and self-absorbed, especially to those amongst us who live their lives for their family. Sorry, but this lifestyle is addictive and thoughts of becoming self-sacrificing don’t sit easy.
Spiritual Matters – well they sort of take care of themselves at the moment. I have read a couple of wonderful books by Caroline Myss and have another of hers there to read. As I write this I am remembering that I am supposed to be working thru’ my life and eliminating any residual negativity. I confess, I haven’t done any of that ‘work’ for a few months now. I guess I had better get a move on if I want to finish that before we get home! Hmm. As this lifestyle allows so many private moments for quiet reflection, and I am constantly being shown so much natural beauty, Spiritual Growth just seems to happen. As I hear of loved ones who are battling different ailments and life problems, the power of prayer and meditation really comes to the fore, and as my mind is reasonably quiet I actually do feel the power of these actions. I can’t speak for the bloke, but I feel quite well spiritually, and that is without any real action on my part. Very Taoist I think.
In our travels I rarely have spiritual conversations with other travellers, but once in a while there is a notable exception to that rule. Whilst in Jabiru I met a lovely lady called Anne and whilst sitting in a cool and sheltered spot in the swimming pool, we managed to have a wonderful conversation about both religion and politics – two of the forbidden subjects! It was delightful. Also while in Darwin, new chums we met there lent me a truly interesting book about ‘the other side’ – sorry I can’t remember the name or author, but it had a big impact on me and broadened my perspectives yet again. I always think that spiritual growth (for want of a different tag) is a very fluid thing – I don’t know about you but my belief systems over the years have changed, changed and changed yet again, taking me in all sorts of amazing directions. Even books of fiction can open windows for exploration. If I had to encapsulate my spiritual beliefs or status, I could do so with just one word, JOY ..........................I feel filled to the brim and overflowing with the JOY of my existence and the existence of a greater power. God fills me with love and that love overflows from me and passes on to all I encounter. I know that those of you who know me will be totally amazed to hear me spouting words like Love and God, as generally I keep my beliefs much to myself – just on this occasion however, let me show you a tiny fragment of my soul. Where you take it is entirely up to you.
In conclusion, over -all impressions – am I still as happy with our decision to sell up and travel Oz – ABSOLUTELY – I am so happy and feel so fortunate to have had this experience, and look forward to many many more ks before we have to finally bring the van to rest.
Wishing you all love, wisdom and good health – Stephanie.
The last time I delved into these areas was 10th April – I just went back and re-read that blog and thought I would re-address some of the issues raised there.
Firstly, I must say, we are completely addicted to this lifestyle. In fact, we are seriously concerned as to how we will ever settle down to a ‘normal’ life again. What makes it so wonderful, well......I guess to be honest one of the main factors is that it is an almost completely irresponsible way of living. Day to day chores are minimal, I mean girls, it really doesn’t take much effort to keep a caravan clean and tidy. I must confess here that the van is not always clean and tidy and, you know what, I don’t really care. Doug is pretty carefree about outside matters and I have finally relaxed about that too. We do frequently resemble nothing more than a repository for rubbish, but hey, what does it really matter? Aside from the lack of hard yakka there is the constant supply of outstanding scenery, new places to explore, new people to meet (and easy escape from those you have had enough of), a lifestyle that is as social or anti-social as you wish to make it, lots and lots of lovely quiet time to spend doing whatever tickles your fancy, you know the stuff, reading, walking, ‘putering, knitting, sewing, writing, painting, sketching, watching TV or DVDs, or just simply lazing around watching the world and other people go by. That might bore some people to tears, but it suits me and him down to the ground. This is the first time in my entire life that I have been able to spend my time selfishly and not feel bad about it – I just love it!
Of course, we have had our hiccups. There is a knack to spending 24/7 together and there have been times (lots) when I have seriously wanted to scream and shout and smack ‘someone’ about – but these times pass. I wouldn’t dream of imagining that TBBITW doesn’t often feel the same about me – I know I can be a real trial at times. One of the secrets is to spend time doing different things – not always easy, especially if the weather doesn’t permit much outside activity. I know I am a pain for saying it, but our weather dilemmas have eddied around too much heat – I know it sounds odd, but really, I can’t expect the bloke to go out and play golf in the heat, especially as he has had a couple of nasty turns in the past due to dehydration on the golf course. Considering my beloved’s penchant for golf, it is surprising to note that he has not had the clubs out once this year! Truly amazing. Of late, I am pleased to report that the man has taken up reading. In fact he has polished off several books in very quick time indeed – I am thrilled and seriously hope it continues – I have always felt that he was missing out, not being a reader. Of course, it also helps that he can disappear into a book while I am otherwise occupied. We do seem to have more upsets around the time of the full moon – I have long been a believer in the detrimental effects of the full moon – of course the real question is..........who is being adversely effected, me or him? Naturally I think he is the one who goes slightly loopy, but the odds are the very fact that I think that, may very well indicate that it is me who goes ever so slightly around the proverbial bend. Anyone who has worked closely with the general public will emphasise with the ‘full moon theories’.
Health-wise, well, I have just read the last blog where I declared that we had been bad and were not going to be very good, no sundowners, smaller servings and more exercise, well I have to report that ...................................................................Nothing much has changed! Over the duration many such declarations have been made and many such good beginnings have been made with several days quick marching and a few smaller meals, but really in all honesty, I have to say nothing much has really changed. We do still avoid munchies with our evening libation as much as is politely possible, I have reduced the size of the meals somewhat, we do have less cooked breakfasts and more Sultana Bran and fruit, we are marginally more active than we were then, and do periodically start serious walking, but generally what happens, is exactly as it has over the last couple of days, the heat comes in and the walking goes out! My knees are giving me curry and of course that is a round-about in itself – pain equals less exercise equals more pain, etc, etc. I am pretty sure I have gained at least one ‘dress size’ and himself has increased the size of the veranda that shades his feet. On the up-side tho’ we are about as stressed as a couple of jelly-fish, so it can’t be all bad. We do monitor our blood pressure periodically and we both seem to be holding our own in that area. I have deliberately not checked sugar levels as I can usually tell when they are high. I have recently increased my medication in that area and feel pretty good at the moment. Of course in both the blood pressure and sugar departments, exercise is one of the best cures. I know! Why don’t’ I check my levels, ‘cause I believe that you can actually adversely affect your health by obsessing over the details. I do believe that you can ‘think’ yourself both well and ill.
Other than these issues, himself has an almost permanently sore head due to his constant head-butting of every part of the caravan both internal and external that his tall stance will reach. There is one particularly bone crunching shelf in the van which we have both had serious encounters with and have both suspected actual concussion as a result. The constant smoke and wind in the NT and upper North West combined to give me a fairly serious eye problem, which after some really poor advice from one chemist and then some excellent advice from another, I finally fixed with anti-biotic drops – it was quite nasty for a while as I couldn’t read, watch telly, go outside, etc, etc. In a caravan, that is quite a problem. It still niggles a little, but I keep an eye on it (sorry about the pun) to keep it at bay. Other than that and a few random scrapes and bruises, (twice from falling over on my part), we are doing well health-wise. We have both acquired fairly substantial tans, safely I might add, just by being out here.
Oh, I just realised that I had not mentioned alcohol intake, .........well, I still pretty much stick to my standard 2 per night, very light on the rum and a big glass of Diet Ginger Beer chock full of ice blocks which make it last just so much longer. The bloke fluctuates a bit, but lately has been quite demure in his intake. One interesting thing is that he had a couple of red wines the other night and had a shocking night’s sleep as a consequence, so we think that until we get back to Perth and are able to get hold of the preservative free stuff we might cross the red wine off the list. Interestingly while we were in the Territory and further north in WA we were restricted in what we could buy booze- wise (due to the ‘Intervention’) and I think we benefited by our enforced partial abstinence. We did buy a super luscious bottle of Kununurra Chocolate/Coffee Rum Liqueur which we have tippled over the last couple of nights, needless to say we only have the one bottle and that will soon be gone, so back to the somewhat straight and narrow after that.
Looking back at my first ‘Personal Perspective’ entry, it is interesting to see that I was feeling a bit like a fish out of water being out of WA, well as you would expect, that has passed and I now feel like ‘an Australian’ more than a West Australian. The parochial attitudes we left home with seem to have been left along the roadside somewhere. The only time they surface really is around footy matches, and hey, who would have missed the Eagles matches this year anyway? A good year to be away footy-wise! I have learnt to look forward to finding out what fresh produce is available in the different areas, and to be painfully honest, wherever possible I shop at Woollies, so nothing really changes. It was really only on the Eyre Peninsula that things seemed so different and I think that is due to that area really being a little world all of its own.
Family-wise, well I have become used to the fact that we do most of the contacting of children, rather than the recipients of phone calls from them. We accept the fact that a) they all have super busy lives and b) pretty much an out of sight out of mind attitude prevails. Kids, I am not saying you never call, only that you rarely call, and that is OK! All the family is doing well – Brett and Nom are expecting a new addition on Dec 3rd and we will be home in time for the big event. Just before I get to that, I have adopted the habit of sending all the younger grandchildren little parcels from time to time (and mother too) and I am told they just love getting real mail. I enjoy sending them the little bits and pieces and I think it is a good way of staying in their little memory banks.
So, that brings me to the point where we are heading home! Why you may well ask. Believe me, we also ask that question. It is not a matter of wanting to go home, trust me, but more a feeling of ‘The Right Thing To Do’! Had we continued across the bottom of the country and up the East coast as first planned, I doubt we would now be heading homewards, but as we were heading to Darwin ‘up the centre’, it became a question of which way to turn when we hit the top. Two things were paramount in our minds, the birth of a grandchild and the welfare of an ageing mother.
As far as the birth of another grandchild is concerned, had it just been a normal situation I would probably just have boarded a plane and flown home to see the new bub on his or her arrival, but due to the complex health status of my daughter-in-law we (read I) felt we should be there at the birth. Please do not interpret my actions as being in any regard negative, I just wanted to be there.
Regarding mum, well, that is far more complicated. From what I can gauge, she is doing reasonably well, BUT.................from what she tells me, she has not had a good year health-wise. Nothing super serious, just a lot of colds and viral infections. I sense that she is run down and is not able to get herself back to a strong position from where she can fight off new colds etc. Despite having some wonderful assistance from our very good friends Sue and Rob, she is still finding it tough not having us around for the little things. She is proudly independent and really doesn’t like to ask for help from people outside the immediate family (read Doug and myself). Mum turned 85 this year, in WA that means actually taking a driving test to determine whether or not you are still able to drive safely. This has turned out to be extremely traumatic for mum. Firstly, her eyesight is deteriorating to a degree where she has trouble focusing. She tells me that she can see quite well into the distance, but closer is more difficult – this means she cannot really see the speedo and has very little idea of her actual speed. She compensates for this by just working with the flow of traffic – not good enough for a driving test I am afraid. Mum has always had a tendency to drive to the middle of the road (many, many nightmares throughout my life!) and still does this, of course, her reaction times now are much slower and that is a considerable problem. She passed the Dr’s eye and cognitive tests, but sadly did not pass the driving test. Not to be defeated, she took the test again, twice and finally passed! This means she is on the road for another 12 months. Now, girls, I know you will know what I mean when I say I have mixed emotions about this. Part of me is so happy for her to have maintained a very important degree of independence but part of me is truly worried about her. Mum is a realist however, and has decided she will catch the bus some,
use the local help some and drive some. She will avoid (as she always does) driving in the rain or going anywhere where there is a heavy or dangerous traffic flow. Still.................................!
The whole experience was pretty awful for her. My mum has never until now, failed anything. At school, as she is so fond of telling me, she never achieved a pass mark below 90%! It was distressing for her to fail and of course it made her question her abilities in so many more ways. Old age can be a cow I think.
On account of all of the things that make up mum’s life, we are very inclined to think we may not be able, in all conscience, to leave Perth once we get back there. Needless to say, it has plunged us into considerable gloom, just thinking about it. Our pace has slowed considerably since we realised this may be the situation. If indeed, we are compelled to stay in Perth, we don’t plan to get rid of the van, but maybe to live in it outside of mum’s house, or at least somewhere very close-by. We will however take a trip across the middle early in the new year with the intention of having the car and van ferried across to Tasmania where we will spend a 2 or 3 months before coming back to WA to bight the proverbial bullet.
All of this raised some interesting and important questions about obligation and responsibility, where the lines are and what the expectations should be. A subject I might add which is discussed frequently with our fellow travellers, many of whom have similar situations. There is as far as I am concerned, only one real issue, LOVE. Mum and I, like so many other mother-daughters have had an often difficult relationship and I do mean difficult in the extreme. There have been periods in our lives where we didn’t even speak to each other and times where we both blamed the other for things and attitudes that we disagreed with. This is all irrelevant. My mother has no one else to really care about her, and although ‘we are what we reap’ and much of her situation may be of her own creation, that doesn’t mean that I can sit by and allow her to spend the last years of her life alone and afraid. I feel that is what many old people are, alone and afraid and it’s an awful indictment on our society. For as long as it is in my power, I won’t allow that to be mum’s reality. Aside from all that and regardless of old history, I love my mum and want to be with her when it really counts. Que Serra! Fortunately for both mum and me, Doug not only understands, but also agrees with my perspective.
Of course, having said all of this doesn’t mean that I am actually looking forward to being at home and with mum for a big part of my day. I am actually dreading it! Now that I have actually experienced having time for myself, I am just soooooooo not looking forward to losing that wonderful benefit. TBBITW will be OK as he will be able to bugger off and play golf at least a couple of time a week, but it will be more difficult for me. I can see that any action on our part will have to be prefaced by a long talk with mum to try to get her to understand that I will need my own time. Not an easy thing to convince mum of without her becoming miffed – something she is very very good at. Mum always believes the worst of people and is always quite sure people are out to upset or hurt her. Subsequently, as she often imagines this, it is frequently self-fulfilling. Oh well, I guess I am just going to have to deal with all of this when the time comes. No amount of fretting now will help anything, quite the contrary in fact. It occurs to me that I must sound so selfish and self-absorbed, especially to those amongst us who live their lives for their family. Sorry, but this lifestyle is addictive and thoughts of becoming self-sacrificing don’t sit easy.
Spiritual Matters – well they sort of take care of themselves at the moment. I have read a couple of wonderful books by Caroline Myss and have another of hers there to read. As I write this I am remembering that I am supposed to be working thru’ my life and eliminating any residual negativity. I confess, I haven’t done any of that ‘work’ for a few months now. I guess I had better get a move on if I want to finish that before we get home! Hmm. As this lifestyle allows so many private moments for quiet reflection, and I am constantly being shown so much natural beauty, Spiritual Growth just seems to happen. As I hear of loved ones who are battling different ailments and life problems, the power of prayer and meditation really comes to the fore, and as my mind is reasonably quiet I actually do feel the power of these actions. I can’t speak for the bloke, but I feel quite well spiritually, and that is without any real action on my part. Very Taoist I think.
In our travels I rarely have spiritual conversations with other travellers, but once in a while there is a notable exception to that rule. Whilst in Jabiru I met a lovely lady called Anne and whilst sitting in a cool and sheltered spot in the swimming pool, we managed to have a wonderful conversation about both religion and politics – two of the forbidden subjects! It was delightful. Also while in Darwin, new chums we met there lent me a truly interesting book about ‘the other side’ – sorry I can’t remember the name or author, but it had a big impact on me and broadened my perspectives yet again. I always think that spiritual growth (for want of a different tag) is a very fluid thing – I don’t know about you but my belief systems over the years have changed, changed and changed yet again, taking me in all sorts of amazing directions. Even books of fiction can open windows for exploration. If I had to encapsulate my spiritual beliefs or status, I could do so with just one word, JOY ..........................I feel filled to the brim and overflowing with the JOY of my existence and the existence of a greater power. God fills me with love and that love overflows from me and passes on to all I encounter. I know that those of you who know me will be totally amazed to hear me spouting words like Love and God, as generally I keep my beliefs much to myself – just on this occasion however, let me show you a tiny fragment of my soul. Where you take it is entirely up to you.
In conclusion, over -all impressions – am I still as happy with our decision to sell up and travel Oz – ABSOLUTELY – I am so happy and feel so fortunate to have had this experience, and look forward to many many more ks before we have to finally bring the van to rest.
Wishing you all love, wisdom and good health – Stephanie.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
PARADOXICAL POINT SAMSON
Himself in front of the van!
Our Stairway
View with the morning cuppa - from the van!
Low water levels in the dam.
A little oasis - the Harding River below the dam wall.
Zeds!!
My view as I write.
Place of Law Making
As if some demented artist had splashed red paint across the ranges
Dusk from the van
Sunrise - over the water!
Historical Buildings
Roebourne Township from Mt Welcome
God Forsaken!
Stark Landscapes, trains and power lines.What an interesting place! When I say ‘place’, I really refer to the general region which incorporates Wickham, Roebourne, Cape Lambert, and the heritage town of Cossack. For the sake of simplicity I will deal with each of these areas individually. Cape Lambert and Cossack we have yet to visit, so I will give you my impressions at a later date.
Roebourne – what does the term “hell hole” conjure up for you? I now know what it means to me! What a literally ‘God forsaken’ place – the Visitor Centre is situated at the old gaol – we went there two days ago and my senses are still reeling. The goal itself was bad enough, but the photos of the aboriginal people incarcerated there in ‘the long ago’ will stay with me for the rest of my life, as will the iron shackles with which they were tethered. They had thick iron bands placed around their necks. Heavy iron chains extended from the bands to be secured to the walls at night. Each chain, ring and Yale lock weighed from 2lbs 12oz to 5lbs 14oz. These chains were never used on white prisoners. From what I could determine from the attendant information, due to the fact that ‘prison labour’ was not allowed above the 26th parallel, native labour was enforced. The photos showed young strong males, tattooed with their tribal markings, all shackled together. In those days the natives were considered nothing more than sheep and were ‘sold’ with the stations along with livestock. Like our American cousins, we are very good at omitting in our own history the bad things we have done – until coming up this way I had no idea that we used the aboriginals as a captive slave force – it was never discussed in my old school days. When these poor buggers were taken to care for the white settlers, if they dared to run away back to their own people, they were hunted down and taken into custody. One can only imagine what the ‘deaths in custody’ situation was like back then. Look, I don’t want to weigh into the manifold arguments that abound about racial discrimination (both ways) or any of the rest of it – but Blind Neddy could not help but see the horror of the situation back then for the blacks that were taken in this manner. Of course, the white man’s inhumanity at the time was not restricted to black people, the so called aristocracy and upper classes of the time treated his poorer white cousins just as appallingly. Those same lower classes when finding themselves in a position of power also treated their peers with extreme viciousness whenever the situation allowed. One could take it a step further I guess and extend the morality of the time to incorporate the male genders’ opinion and treatment of the ‘fairer sex’. No amount of justification however denies the fact that the black of the day was treated abominably – of course whenever he had the chance, he understandably launched a spear or two in our direction – could you really blame him for that? After all, initially he thought we were the spirits come to walk amongst them – that must have been a terrible let down in itself! Great lot of spirits we turned out to be.
Anyway, I’m sure we all agree the situation for the aboriginals today is a very complex issue and I certainly don’t have any answers, I can only have empathy for all those on both sides, still locked into a seemingly unwinnable situation. The town (and I use the term very lightly) of Roebourne consists of a few fairly well preserved Heritage buildings, all made from stone and still quite beautiful in their own way, a collection of shacks, humpies and sheds and a few reasonably good looking homes. Interspersed amongst these various types of buildings and dwellings are numerous car bodies, mounds of debris and generally an appalling amount of rubbish. This alluring collection of debris is set amongst red, dusty, inhospitable hills capped with loose red rock. Truly a less appetising place would be hard to imagine. AND YET just down the road lies Wickham – well, perhaps it isn’t really worse, but certainly not much better.
Wickham boasts what appears to be a large aboriginal housing sector, I suspect the houses there are largely Homes West. As would be expected the homes there are all unkempt, dirty and surrounded by rubbish. I have to admit to a certain thrill of fear running through my veins as we took a wrong turn and ended up in a particularly unkempt cul de sac – locals slouched over modern but menacing looking vehicles glared at our intrusion into their world. I was happy when we managed to leave without a rock thru’ the window. So you see, I am not immune to illogical and probably unfair assessment when confronted on a personal level. There were other, better homes in Wickham, many of these seemed to be interspersed among the lesser dwellings. We even saw some homes that were quite lovingly tended – seemingly longer term residents I suppose. Wickham at least boasts a good supermarket – a Woolworths no less, and the shop stocks a good variety of fresh veggies and fruit and all the dairy was well in date – a very pleasant surprise. All the people we encountered in Wickham, regardless of colour, have been pleasant and friendly – goes to show that appearances can be deceptive. The Olympic size swimming pool there is in good nick and is free! One of the more incongruous things about these towns (and all the ones we have seen in the Territory and North West) is that they all sport wonderful vibrantly green ovals – we saw two in Roebourne!! Footy is obviously a really big thing up here, and I suspect the saviour of many a young man.
Well, that fairly neatly leads me to the Grand Final last Sat – what a debacle – I am so glad that our glorious team was not playing – what a total let-down for all the players! Of course, TBBITW is right when he says that the AFL will be the big winners with soooo much more income from a second Grand Final than would have been generated by just the one – BUT – personally I feel the system needs a bloody good overhaul and we get back to SPORT not moneymaking! Hmmm, must be a day for soap-boxes as I seem to be spending my day getting on and off mine! Sorry.So, what else, you might notice I am leaving the best till last. Next stop was Harding River Dam – we took a drive out along the 30ks of very good gravel road to see the dam. On the way, we spotted something very strange and which I have dubbed the Pilbara Panther! We still have no real idea what it was. The creature crossed the gravel road some 200 meters in front of the car, so we were unable to get a good look at it. The beast looked about the size of a brown bear, and was of similar colour. The 'panther' seemed to move in a bearlike fashion too! By the time we were paralel with where it had been, it had disappeared into thin air. I though it might be a large wild dog, but the movement was not right. They only other thing we can really think of, is perhaps it was a man, doubled over, trying to cross the road and remain unseen. Whatever it was, I guess it will forever remain a mystery. Just up the road on the other side were a group of desolate looking shelters. This area is pretty much taboo, as it is where the local indigenous people go for their 'law'. We were advised not to enter that land. The dam we understand was built to provide water for this region, sadly as we are told they have had no real rain for some 3 years, the dam itself only contained a small amount of water. Regardless of this, it was a pretty spot and trust me, one doesn’t use the word ‘pretty’ lightly around here. Impressive and rugged are usually far more appropriate. The over-flow area where the river resumes its path was green and lush and occupied by Black Swans and their cygnets. Many other water birds were swimming peacefully in the water there and the surrounds were green and almost lush. Quite a little oasis. The drive out was quite spectacular and we had wonderful views of the rock capped ranges of the area. The hills all seem to be capped with avalanches of deep red rocks – indicative of iron ore, so TBBITW tells me. The overall effect is of one of a somewhat deranged painter having sloshed deep red paint across the landscape. The country side generally is barren and inhospitable – certainly it doesn’t beckon you to linger. We were told by the lady at the Visitor Centre in Roebourne that the dam depends on cyclones for its fill – the fact that they haven’t had the benefit of a good cyclone for three years has left the dam almost bereft of water. It’s nice to know that cyclonic waters are captured and put to good use and that somewhere on the globe, people actually look forward to those deluges.
We also took a drive out along another stretch of gravel road to see the Port Walcott yacht club and fishing area – that was when I named this area “Man Land” – the terrain as I have said before is about as unhospitable as it gets, it is criss-crossed with railway lines and power poles and lines and is liberally dotted with huge vehicles, trains and machinery. All of this is decorated liberally with the figures of very tanned, mostly yellow and orange clad blokes sporting big dusty boots. Many of these blokes are behind the wheels of the manifold white utes displaying red and orange flags. No world for powder-puffs like myself here. I don’t believe I have ever seen a harder tougher place.
All of the above is what makes Point Samson so unexpected. Just around the corner from Wickham you cruise into the pretty little seaside town of Point Samson. Talk about the ridiculous to the sublime! This place sports mainly beautiful new homes, surrounded by lush gardens and neatly curbed roads. Little parks dot the area and the whole thing is set off by a sparkling blue ocean. Truly, the ocean views here are spectacular and unusual. The bay on which we are situated is surrounded by ancient hills and the shores are protected by ragged and colourful sedimentary rocks. The layers and colours in these rocks are exceptional and startling.. It has just occurred to me to take a photo from where I am sitting writing this blog – you will see at the top of this blog two very telling photos – one out the window and the other, well.........you will see for yourself.......it would be good to be able to add the sound track for the second photo! Just imagine a whole heap of zeds emanating from that scene. Anyway, I digress! I am not sure that you can apply the word pretty to the scenery even here, stunning is probably more apt. There are no turquoise waters or shining sands, deep blue ocean and red and chocolate coloured rocks running down to grey sandy shores – as I said, stunning more than pretty. The real estate here incidentally, should you be thinking of a nice little retirement home, runs from roughly $1m upwards.
Point Samson has a pub, a very popular fish and chip shop and a seafood restaurant – all appear to be quite good, although friends did have an altogether ordinary experience at the pub yesterday. Pretty poor fare we are told, and yet, we went for the half price T Bone on Wednesday night and were totally impressed! There is a small general store here which I haven’t explored, but am told carries very little of anything except booze.
The full moon did it’s thing on Thursday night and we took around 50 photos of the ‘stairway to the moon’ on Friday night – as you will see, the end results were not all that good – product of a very inexperienced photographer (me) and an ever so slightly inebriated photographer (not me)! I have just canned something like 15 non event photos of little yellow balls!
We have had a particularly social time here. We arrived here the same day as old friends who had been holidaying in Townsville and were heading home down the coast. They stayed for 4 days and we had a lovely catch up with them which included a meal at both the pub and the fish and chip place. The day they left, lo and behold, Hank and Yvonne from Darwin and then 80 Mile arrived, so back out with the chairs, the drinks and the nibblies! We have so far extended 4 times and are now set to leave here Monday next (Oct 4th). Guess that says a bit about the place!
We are at the Cove Caravan Park and have to say it is excellent and it’s also Dog Friendly. The park is only a couple of years old, the ablutions are exceedingly good and immaculately kept, the sites are all concrete and grass and the gardens are well on the way. The park is a little bare as all the trees are still small, but the views make up for that. As usual we have one of the best bays in the park with uninterrupted views of the ocean – can’t be all bad!! We are told that in peak season, June, July and August, it is almost impossible to find a bay here and they turn vans away in droves. Just now tho’, there are plenty of empty spaces despite school holidays. The first few days we were here the wind just blew and blew, but now, the weather is spectacular. The temps are probably around the low 30s and the nights are reasonably comfortable. Soft land breezes waft thru’ in the morning and fairly brisk sea breezes blow away the heat in the afternoons. The evenings are balmy and it is delightful for sitting outside, providing you can withstand the many midges, mozzies and sandflies.
The place is totally back to front tho’, the sunrise is over the water and the sunset is over the land! It is really screwing with my head (dangerous considering the state of my brain) and I just cannot seem to get my head around it. We are back in WA and yet everything is around the wrong way.
Roebourne – what does the term “hell hole” conjure up for you? I now know what it means to me! What a literally ‘God forsaken’ place – the Visitor Centre is situated at the old gaol – we went there two days ago and my senses are still reeling. The goal itself was bad enough, but the photos of the aboriginal people incarcerated there in ‘the long ago’ will stay with me for the rest of my life, as will the iron shackles with which they were tethered. They had thick iron bands placed around their necks. Heavy iron chains extended from the bands to be secured to the walls at night. Each chain, ring and Yale lock weighed from 2lbs 12oz to 5lbs 14oz. These chains were never used on white prisoners. From what I could determine from the attendant information, due to the fact that ‘prison labour’ was not allowed above the 26th parallel, native labour was enforced. The photos showed young strong males, tattooed with their tribal markings, all shackled together. In those days the natives were considered nothing more than sheep and were ‘sold’ with the stations along with livestock. Like our American cousins, we are very good at omitting in our own history the bad things we have done – until coming up this way I had no idea that we used the aboriginals as a captive slave force – it was never discussed in my old school days. When these poor buggers were taken to care for the white settlers, if they dared to run away back to their own people, they were hunted down and taken into custody. One can only imagine what the ‘deaths in custody’ situation was like back then. Look, I don’t want to weigh into the manifold arguments that abound about racial discrimination (both ways) or any of the rest of it – but Blind Neddy could not help but see the horror of the situation back then for the blacks that were taken in this manner. Of course, the white man’s inhumanity at the time was not restricted to black people, the so called aristocracy and upper classes of the time treated his poorer white cousins just as appallingly. Those same lower classes when finding themselves in a position of power also treated their peers with extreme viciousness whenever the situation allowed. One could take it a step further I guess and extend the morality of the time to incorporate the male genders’ opinion and treatment of the ‘fairer sex’. No amount of justification however denies the fact that the black of the day was treated abominably – of course whenever he had the chance, he understandably launched a spear or two in our direction – could you really blame him for that? After all, initially he thought we were the spirits come to walk amongst them – that must have been a terrible let down in itself! Great lot of spirits we turned out to be.
Anyway, I’m sure we all agree the situation for the aboriginals today is a very complex issue and I certainly don’t have any answers, I can only have empathy for all those on both sides, still locked into a seemingly unwinnable situation. The town (and I use the term very lightly) of Roebourne consists of a few fairly well preserved Heritage buildings, all made from stone and still quite beautiful in their own way, a collection of shacks, humpies and sheds and a few reasonably good looking homes. Interspersed amongst these various types of buildings and dwellings are numerous car bodies, mounds of debris and generally an appalling amount of rubbish. This alluring collection of debris is set amongst red, dusty, inhospitable hills capped with loose red rock. Truly a less appetising place would be hard to imagine. AND YET just down the road lies Wickham – well, perhaps it isn’t really worse, but certainly not much better.
Wickham boasts what appears to be a large aboriginal housing sector, I suspect the houses there are largely Homes West. As would be expected the homes there are all unkempt, dirty and surrounded by rubbish. I have to admit to a certain thrill of fear running through my veins as we took a wrong turn and ended up in a particularly unkempt cul de sac – locals slouched over modern but menacing looking vehicles glared at our intrusion into their world. I was happy when we managed to leave without a rock thru’ the window. So you see, I am not immune to illogical and probably unfair assessment when confronted on a personal level. There were other, better homes in Wickham, many of these seemed to be interspersed among the lesser dwellings. We even saw some homes that were quite lovingly tended – seemingly longer term residents I suppose. Wickham at least boasts a good supermarket – a Woolworths no less, and the shop stocks a good variety of fresh veggies and fruit and all the dairy was well in date – a very pleasant surprise. All the people we encountered in Wickham, regardless of colour, have been pleasant and friendly – goes to show that appearances can be deceptive. The Olympic size swimming pool there is in good nick and is free! One of the more incongruous things about these towns (and all the ones we have seen in the Territory and North West) is that they all sport wonderful vibrantly green ovals – we saw two in Roebourne!! Footy is obviously a really big thing up here, and I suspect the saviour of many a young man.
Well, that fairly neatly leads me to the Grand Final last Sat – what a debacle – I am so glad that our glorious team was not playing – what a total let-down for all the players! Of course, TBBITW is right when he says that the AFL will be the big winners with soooo much more income from a second Grand Final than would have been generated by just the one – BUT – personally I feel the system needs a bloody good overhaul and we get back to SPORT not moneymaking! Hmmm, must be a day for soap-boxes as I seem to be spending my day getting on and off mine! Sorry.So, what else, you might notice I am leaving the best till last. Next stop was Harding River Dam – we took a drive out along the 30ks of very good gravel road to see the dam. On the way, we spotted something very strange and which I have dubbed the Pilbara Panther! We still have no real idea what it was. The creature crossed the gravel road some 200 meters in front of the car, so we were unable to get a good look at it. The beast looked about the size of a brown bear, and was of similar colour. The 'panther' seemed to move in a bearlike fashion too! By the time we were paralel with where it had been, it had disappeared into thin air. I though it might be a large wild dog, but the movement was not right. They only other thing we can really think of, is perhaps it was a man, doubled over, trying to cross the road and remain unseen. Whatever it was, I guess it will forever remain a mystery. Just up the road on the other side were a group of desolate looking shelters. This area is pretty much taboo, as it is where the local indigenous people go for their 'law'. We were advised not to enter that land. The dam we understand was built to provide water for this region, sadly as we are told they have had no real rain for some 3 years, the dam itself only contained a small amount of water. Regardless of this, it was a pretty spot and trust me, one doesn’t use the word ‘pretty’ lightly around here. Impressive and rugged are usually far more appropriate. The over-flow area where the river resumes its path was green and lush and occupied by Black Swans and their cygnets. Many other water birds were swimming peacefully in the water there and the surrounds were green and almost lush. Quite a little oasis. The drive out was quite spectacular and we had wonderful views of the rock capped ranges of the area. The hills all seem to be capped with avalanches of deep red rocks – indicative of iron ore, so TBBITW tells me. The overall effect is of one of a somewhat deranged painter having sloshed deep red paint across the landscape. The country side generally is barren and inhospitable – certainly it doesn’t beckon you to linger. We were told by the lady at the Visitor Centre in Roebourne that the dam depends on cyclones for its fill – the fact that they haven’t had the benefit of a good cyclone for three years has left the dam almost bereft of water. It’s nice to know that cyclonic waters are captured and put to good use and that somewhere on the globe, people actually look forward to those deluges.
We also took a drive out along another stretch of gravel road to see the Port Walcott yacht club and fishing area – that was when I named this area “Man Land” – the terrain as I have said before is about as unhospitable as it gets, it is criss-crossed with railway lines and power poles and lines and is liberally dotted with huge vehicles, trains and machinery. All of this is decorated liberally with the figures of very tanned, mostly yellow and orange clad blokes sporting big dusty boots. Many of these blokes are behind the wheels of the manifold white utes displaying red and orange flags. No world for powder-puffs like myself here. I don’t believe I have ever seen a harder tougher place.
All of the above is what makes Point Samson so unexpected. Just around the corner from Wickham you cruise into the pretty little seaside town of Point Samson. Talk about the ridiculous to the sublime! This place sports mainly beautiful new homes, surrounded by lush gardens and neatly curbed roads. Little parks dot the area and the whole thing is set off by a sparkling blue ocean. Truly, the ocean views here are spectacular and unusual. The bay on which we are situated is surrounded by ancient hills and the shores are protected by ragged and colourful sedimentary rocks. The layers and colours in these rocks are exceptional and startling.. It has just occurred to me to take a photo from where I am sitting writing this blog – you will see at the top of this blog two very telling photos – one out the window and the other, well.........you will see for yourself.......it would be good to be able to add the sound track for the second photo! Just imagine a whole heap of zeds emanating from that scene. Anyway, I digress! I am not sure that you can apply the word pretty to the scenery even here, stunning is probably more apt. There are no turquoise waters or shining sands, deep blue ocean and red and chocolate coloured rocks running down to grey sandy shores – as I said, stunning more than pretty. The real estate here incidentally, should you be thinking of a nice little retirement home, runs from roughly $1m upwards.
Point Samson has a pub, a very popular fish and chip shop and a seafood restaurant – all appear to be quite good, although friends did have an altogether ordinary experience at the pub yesterday. Pretty poor fare we are told, and yet, we went for the half price T Bone on Wednesday night and were totally impressed! There is a small general store here which I haven’t explored, but am told carries very little of anything except booze.
The full moon did it’s thing on Thursday night and we took around 50 photos of the ‘stairway to the moon’ on Friday night – as you will see, the end results were not all that good – product of a very inexperienced photographer (me) and an ever so slightly inebriated photographer (not me)! I have just canned something like 15 non event photos of little yellow balls!
We have had a particularly social time here. We arrived here the same day as old friends who had been holidaying in Townsville and were heading home down the coast. They stayed for 4 days and we had a lovely catch up with them which included a meal at both the pub and the fish and chip place. The day they left, lo and behold, Hank and Yvonne from Darwin and then 80 Mile arrived, so back out with the chairs, the drinks and the nibblies! We have so far extended 4 times and are now set to leave here Monday next (Oct 4th). Guess that says a bit about the place!
We are at the Cove Caravan Park and have to say it is excellent and it’s also Dog Friendly. The park is only a couple of years old, the ablutions are exceedingly good and immaculately kept, the sites are all concrete and grass and the gardens are well on the way. The park is a little bare as all the trees are still small, but the views make up for that. As usual we have one of the best bays in the park with uninterrupted views of the ocean – can’t be all bad!! We are told that in peak season, June, July and August, it is almost impossible to find a bay here and they turn vans away in droves. Just now tho’, there are plenty of empty spaces despite school holidays. The first few days we were here the wind just blew and blew, but now, the weather is spectacular. The temps are probably around the low 30s and the nights are reasonably comfortable. Soft land breezes waft thru’ in the morning and fairly brisk sea breezes blow away the heat in the afternoons. The evenings are balmy and it is delightful for sitting outside, providing you can withstand the many midges, mozzies and sandflies.
The place is totally back to front tho’, the sunrise is over the water and the sunset is over the land! It is really screwing with my head (dangerous considering the state of my brain) and I just cannot seem to get my head around it. We are back in WA and yet everything is around the wrong way.
Well, the bloke is waiting to check the stock market, so I must hand over the modem (only Telstra here, no Optus) and so will wish you well for the short term. I will be back soon to fill you in on the Port to Port bus trip we are taking on Wednesday. Until then – be kind to each other and look after yourselves – Stephanie.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
PROSPEROUS PORT HEDLAND
Dust storm heading out of Hedland.
From the Caravan site
Fairy Lights at Night
Stockpiled Iron Ore awaiting shipping.
Salt, salt, salt!Well, what can I tell you about the Port town? Certainly I can’t wax lyrical about the beauty. The place is utilitarian in the extreme. Very little there is ‘pretty’. TBBITW spent quite a bit of time up here in his youth 40 years ago – working for a company that did much of the development work in Hedland. Although he had been back since, some 8 years ago, he was amazed at the progress and changes that had been made since even his last visit.
Of course most of the industry there is related to iron ore mining. I could bore you to death here with all the facts and figures, but you can source all of that sort of stuff on the web – you don’t need me for that. The one thing that fascinated me tho’, was the salt works. Vast piles of glittering white salt, piled high waiting for processing. I have been a salt addict all my life but even I found that much salt a little overwhelming.
Highly industrialised the port town sports an enormous amount of rail and iron ore trains as long as 3ks ponderously make their way across the flats.
We stayed at Point Cooke Caravan Park and found it to be quite good. As usual we had a prime spot, this time overlooking some salt/mangrove flats. The lights of the trains and the iron ore handling facilities transformed the distance into a fairy land at night. Behind these lights you could see (and hear) the planes coming in to land. The whole effect was quite surreal. Trouble was you had to brave the sand-flies and the very strong winds to sit outside and enjoy the spectacle.
We only spent three nights in Hedland so really didn’t delve beneath the somewhat dusty exterior.
There was an odd personal note here tho’. TBBITW met his ex here, many many moons ago. While we were there this time, we had lunch with my ex and his now third wife. Not sure what if anything any of that means except that it seemed as if there was some sort of off-beat synchronicity in play. We lunched at the Top Pub and found the food to be quite good and the company if not exciting, at least non-confrontational. Another little hurdle in life’s steeple chase!
Oh well, onwards and upwards – next stop Point Samson. Live, love and forgive as if there were no tomorrows. Stephanie.
Of course most of the industry there is related to iron ore mining. I could bore you to death here with all the facts and figures, but you can source all of that sort of stuff on the web – you don’t need me for that. The one thing that fascinated me tho’, was the salt works. Vast piles of glittering white salt, piled high waiting for processing. I have been a salt addict all my life but even I found that much salt a little overwhelming.
Highly industrialised the port town sports an enormous amount of rail and iron ore trains as long as 3ks ponderously make their way across the flats.
We stayed at Point Cooke Caravan Park and found it to be quite good. As usual we had a prime spot, this time overlooking some salt/mangrove flats. The lights of the trains and the iron ore handling facilities transformed the distance into a fairy land at night. Behind these lights you could see (and hear) the planes coming in to land. The whole effect was quite surreal. Trouble was you had to brave the sand-flies and the very strong winds to sit outside and enjoy the spectacle.
We only spent three nights in Hedland so really didn’t delve beneath the somewhat dusty exterior.
There was an odd personal note here tho’. TBBITW met his ex here, many many moons ago. While we were there this time, we had lunch with my ex and his now third wife. Not sure what if anything any of that means except that it seemed as if there was some sort of off-beat synchronicity in play. We lunched at the Top Pub and found the food to be quite good and the company if not exciting, at least non-confrontational. Another little hurdle in life’s steeple chase!
Oh well, onwards and upwards – next stop Point Samson. Live, love and forgive as if there were no tomorrows. Stephanie.
THINGS WE HAVE LEARNED
LIKE THE SHELLS ON THE BEACH - THE LESSONS LEARNED!
Since moving in to the caravan in November last year, there are some lessons we have learned. The following list constitutes the things we have learned ‘not to do’! We thought you might find the list both educational and entertaining.
· DO NOT leave sky-light hatch fully open, even when it is dead calm - $650 later for a new hatch thanks very much! Ours was caught in a freak wind at Tumbling Waters and went Tumbling across the road.
· DO NOT forget to frequently check the hose attachments under sinks and basins – late night flooding of the caravan can be avoided this way.
· DO NOT attempt to put down awning on your own in a howling gale – partners are willing to help if asked - $50 for a new toggle thingy for awning.
· DO NOT forget to check the wattage of bulbs – melted light fitting falling on spouse’s head can precipitate warm discussions.
· DO NOT move van without checking windows from both the inside and outside – frantic waving down by passing motorists can cause alarm.
· DO NOT leave wallet or any other valuables unattended in car whilst packing up – sadly, theft by neighbours can be a problem.
· DO NOT leave anything remotely edible outside van in places where dingos live – pillow stealing dingos are everywhere.
· DO NOT step into mud puddles no matter how hard it is to get around them – major embarrassment can be avoided this way
· DO NOT forget to check for potholes around van – very hard to climb mountains with knee in bandage.
· DO NOT forget that internal parts of a caravan may be lower than one’s cranium – many, many headaches can be avoided this way.
· DO NOT leave chains dangling at the front of the van whilst in camp, especially if your van is not a large one – not unless you want all the other caravanners to know exactly when and for how long you are feeling amorous.
· DO NOT forget to open all windows and vents and put on air conditioners and exhaust fans before putting bread in toaster – this will avoid loud screaming noises in your ears and the rest of the camp commenting that “someone’s toast is ready”
· DO NOT leave drunken spouse in charge of BBQ – this will avoid unappetising charred black stuff being served up and drunken spouse receiving a little bit of hot tongue.
· DO NOT expect your male partner to return anytime within 30 mins each time they visit the gents, empty the canister, go to the corner, check the tyres or indeed anything that requires leaving the caravan.
· DO NOT expect any sleep-ins when in any sort of fishing camp – eardrum perforating yells about the anticipated catch of the day are sure to erupt at the very first hint of sunup.
· DO NOT expect married (or any other sort) of bliss when cooped up in a caravan 24/7 for any extended period of time – some time out from each other is mandatory for even the happiest and most well adjusted of couples – this is to avoid the extreme internal stress caused by resisting the almost overwhelming desire to choke the living ................out of one’s beloved.
· DO NOT ask to be situated right next door to dear old Fred, or Norma or whoever – leave yourself at least a couple of bays or old and long term friendships may suffer.
· DO NOT forget to be vigilant when driving on roads shared with livestock – dead bulls and dead 4x4s can be avoided this way.
· DO NOT fall into the nibblies at 4.30 trap – hiring a crane to lift both of you into your van or vehicle after far too much consumption can be costly and embarrassing.
· DO NOT accept free meal invitations from complete strangers – if people need to provide food in order to have someone visit them, there is generally a reason.
· DO NOT forget your wife’s birthday, particularly if you are in the vicinity of Broome – there are some very expensive pearls to be had there.
· DO NOT attempt beach driving if you are not an experienced 4x4 driver – this can avoid excessive exertion when extricating vehicles from bumper deep sand (or worse)
· DO NOT get pulled into conversations with other campers when trying to hitch/pack up – all manner of nasty omissions/events can be avoided this way.
· DO NOT get too precious about anything, particularly ablution blocks and/or staff personalities (or lack of) – truly in the big scheme of things it doesn’t really matter and you are only going to spoil your own fun by taking it to heart.
· DO NOT leave it to chance when going into busy areas – a quick phone call to make an advance booking, even the day before, can save a great deal of angst.
· DO NOT forget in over abundant enthusiasm that your age and fitness levels are what they are – sadly we have seen and heard of too many fellow travellers being carted off the hospitals because they thought they were bullet-proof.
There are so very many more, and we would love to hear of your own personal DO NOTS – not all of these are ours, many have been gleaned over the odd glass or two with new chums. We have to say that our favourite is
DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES TOW THE VAN WITH YOUR SPOUSE INSIDE!!
We have heard two wonderful tales that happened this way :-
One enterprising couple had decided that they wanted a washing machine whilst touring. The good news was that they had a shower recess on board which they had no desire to use. They considered that this would possibly be a good spot to place the Washing Machine. Understandably the feller was a little concerned about the machine moving around while they were underway. Ah! Brainstorm! He just asked the little woman if she would please sit on the loo and watch the machine while he took the van for a run around the Adelaide Hills. He was very considerate of her welfare and provided her with a mobile ‘phone so that she could contact him if there was a problem. Said little woman agreed to the plan and firmly planted her tiny derrière on the loo. The feller decided that he might as well give the system a really good work-out, just to be sure to be sure, and off he went, swinging the fairly large van briskly up and down and all around the Adelaide Hills – this went on for around 15 minutes. Well, my friends, said little woman was having, as you can no doubt imagine, all sorts of problems. The movement of the van was so severe at the rear end where she was ensconced that she had to brace herself with both arms against the two walls of the bathroom. The movement of the van was sooooo vigorous she could not even get her hand to her pocket where her lifesaving mobile rested. She was definitely shaken and stirred when he finally stopped the van and opened the door. The good news? The washing machine did not budge one inch! When we met this lady she seemed a trifle odd, we have no way of knowing whether this was a long term condition or one just brought on by her terrifying ride.
The second story was a little more sinister we thought. We met a bloke who seemed to have small regard for the female gender. Even before he told us this hair-raising story we had determined that this man had a bad attitude. He told of the day he was wanting to get an early start on the day’s travels but his wife had wished to sleep in a little. Now the poor woman was not around to defend herself, so we cannot say whether or not she had good cause to stay in bed that day. Regardless of her reasons, the man decided that they were underway. Leaving his wife in bed he hitched up the van, shut the door and took off. My friends, this is where this story makes our blood run cold – he travelled for some 300 ks before he stopped the vehicle and opened up the caravan. The poor woman was close to death! Motion sickness at its worse. She had thrown up all over the van and was extraordinarily ill. When we asked what she said, he claimed she said nothing, just climbed into the car and sat in silence for the remainder of the trip. He did say that he felt his actions that day may have been the final straw precipitating the pursuant divorce.
Well, that’s it for this time – love to hear from you. Steph and TBBITW
Since moving in to the caravan in November last year, there are some lessons we have learned. The following list constitutes the things we have learned ‘not to do’! We thought you might find the list both educational and entertaining.
· DO NOT leave sky-light hatch fully open, even when it is dead calm - $650 later for a new hatch thanks very much! Ours was caught in a freak wind at Tumbling Waters and went Tumbling across the road.
· DO NOT forget to frequently check the hose attachments under sinks and basins – late night flooding of the caravan can be avoided this way.
· DO NOT attempt to put down awning on your own in a howling gale – partners are willing to help if asked - $50 for a new toggle thingy for awning.
· DO NOT forget to check the wattage of bulbs – melted light fitting falling on spouse’s head can precipitate warm discussions.
· DO NOT move van without checking windows from both the inside and outside – frantic waving down by passing motorists can cause alarm.
· DO NOT leave wallet or any other valuables unattended in car whilst packing up – sadly, theft by neighbours can be a problem.
· DO NOT leave anything remotely edible outside van in places where dingos live – pillow stealing dingos are everywhere.
· DO NOT step into mud puddles no matter how hard it is to get around them – major embarrassment can be avoided this way
· DO NOT forget to check for potholes around van – very hard to climb mountains with knee in bandage.
· DO NOT forget that internal parts of a caravan may be lower than one’s cranium – many, many headaches can be avoided this way.
· DO NOT leave chains dangling at the front of the van whilst in camp, especially if your van is not a large one – not unless you want all the other caravanners to know exactly when and for how long you are feeling amorous.
· DO NOT forget to open all windows and vents and put on air conditioners and exhaust fans before putting bread in toaster – this will avoid loud screaming noises in your ears and the rest of the camp commenting that “someone’s toast is ready”
· DO NOT leave drunken spouse in charge of BBQ – this will avoid unappetising charred black stuff being served up and drunken spouse receiving a little bit of hot tongue.
· DO NOT expect your male partner to return anytime within 30 mins each time they visit the gents, empty the canister, go to the corner, check the tyres or indeed anything that requires leaving the caravan.
· DO NOT expect any sleep-ins when in any sort of fishing camp – eardrum perforating yells about the anticipated catch of the day are sure to erupt at the very first hint of sunup.
· DO NOT expect married (or any other sort) of bliss when cooped up in a caravan 24/7 for any extended period of time – some time out from each other is mandatory for even the happiest and most well adjusted of couples – this is to avoid the extreme internal stress caused by resisting the almost overwhelming desire to choke the living ................out of one’s beloved.
· DO NOT ask to be situated right next door to dear old Fred, or Norma or whoever – leave yourself at least a couple of bays or old and long term friendships may suffer.
· DO NOT forget to be vigilant when driving on roads shared with livestock – dead bulls and dead 4x4s can be avoided this way.
· DO NOT fall into the nibblies at 4.30 trap – hiring a crane to lift both of you into your van or vehicle after far too much consumption can be costly and embarrassing.
· DO NOT accept free meal invitations from complete strangers – if people need to provide food in order to have someone visit them, there is generally a reason.
· DO NOT forget your wife’s birthday, particularly if you are in the vicinity of Broome – there are some very expensive pearls to be had there.
· DO NOT attempt beach driving if you are not an experienced 4x4 driver – this can avoid excessive exertion when extricating vehicles from bumper deep sand (or worse)
· DO NOT get pulled into conversations with other campers when trying to hitch/pack up – all manner of nasty omissions/events can be avoided this way.
· DO NOT get too precious about anything, particularly ablution blocks and/or staff personalities (or lack of) – truly in the big scheme of things it doesn’t really matter and you are only going to spoil your own fun by taking it to heart.
· DO NOT leave it to chance when going into busy areas – a quick phone call to make an advance booking, even the day before, can save a great deal of angst.
· DO NOT forget in over abundant enthusiasm that your age and fitness levels are what they are – sadly we have seen and heard of too many fellow travellers being carted off the hospitals because they thought they were bullet-proof.
There are so very many more, and we would love to hear of your own personal DO NOTS – not all of these are ours, many have been gleaned over the odd glass or two with new chums. We have to say that our favourite is
DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES TOW THE VAN WITH YOUR SPOUSE INSIDE!!
We have heard two wonderful tales that happened this way :-
One enterprising couple had decided that they wanted a washing machine whilst touring. The good news was that they had a shower recess on board which they had no desire to use. They considered that this would possibly be a good spot to place the Washing Machine. Understandably the feller was a little concerned about the machine moving around while they were underway. Ah! Brainstorm! He just asked the little woman if she would please sit on the loo and watch the machine while he took the van for a run around the Adelaide Hills. He was very considerate of her welfare and provided her with a mobile ‘phone so that she could contact him if there was a problem. Said little woman agreed to the plan and firmly planted her tiny derrière on the loo. The feller decided that he might as well give the system a really good work-out, just to be sure to be sure, and off he went, swinging the fairly large van briskly up and down and all around the Adelaide Hills – this went on for around 15 minutes. Well, my friends, said little woman was having, as you can no doubt imagine, all sorts of problems. The movement of the van was so severe at the rear end where she was ensconced that she had to brace herself with both arms against the two walls of the bathroom. The movement of the van was sooooo vigorous she could not even get her hand to her pocket where her lifesaving mobile rested. She was definitely shaken and stirred when he finally stopped the van and opened the door. The good news? The washing machine did not budge one inch! When we met this lady she seemed a trifle odd, we have no way of knowing whether this was a long term condition or one just brought on by her terrifying ride.
The second story was a little more sinister we thought. We met a bloke who seemed to have small regard for the female gender. Even before he told us this hair-raising story we had determined that this man had a bad attitude. He told of the day he was wanting to get an early start on the day’s travels but his wife had wished to sleep in a little. Now the poor woman was not around to defend herself, so we cannot say whether or not she had good cause to stay in bed that day. Regardless of her reasons, the man decided that they were underway. Leaving his wife in bed he hitched up the van, shut the door and took off. My friends, this is where this story makes our blood run cold – he travelled for some 300 ks before he stopped the vehicle and opened up the caravan. The poor woman was close to death! Motion sickness at its worse. She had thrown up all over the van and was extraordinarily ill. When we asked what she said, he claimed she said nothing, just climbed into the car and sat in silence for the remainder of the trip. He did say that he felt his actions that day may have been the final straw precipitating the pursuant divorce.
Well, that’s it for this time – love to hear from you. Steph and TBBITW
Friday, September 17, 2010
EFFICACIOUS EIGHTY MILE BEACH
A flattened 80 Mile Beach
The Fisherman
Philly the Pheasant Coucal
An explosion of colour
Soft and pastel the colours of the beach
Stunning effects at sundown
Reflections in late sunlight
You could see foreverWell, Hi! I hope this finds you all thriving. What an amazing place this is! Why? I’m not really sure. We have been discussing this very question all this week, and really have no truly definitive answer for you. If you come here to fish, you will catch fish. If you come here to relax, you can relax. If you come here to catch some rays, you will get some sun. In essence it is very very laid back and as far as we can tell, pretty unique.
For those who don’t know, Eighty Mile Beach some 330 odd ks south of Broome is a fishing mecca. The only thing here is the caravan park. Until last year the park was lush and tropical sporting large shady trees and lots of nice green lawn. Sadly, early this year a large and destructive cyclone knocked the proverbial stuffing out of the park. Many of the trees were either uprooted or ringbarked by the winds and many of the buildings were either severely damaged or completely destroyed. As we haven’t been here before , it is hard to place a comparison on the before and after. Now, the place is pretty bare although the trees that did survive the onslaught are gradually reclothing themselves in lush new foliage and the lawns are slowly returning to some of their former glory. Things weren’t helped much by flooding rains in July this year. Oddly enough, this is one place where we are told by all the locals, rain hardly ever falls, and yet it has rained yet again while we are here! One of the predominant features of the place is a roughly 10k red dirt road into the park and of course all the park roads are also that wonderful deep red soil, some would say bulldust. After the last couple of days’ rainfall of course all the roads have turned from dust to mud – deep red into everything mud!
Despite the red bulldust, we just ‘love’ the place. There is absolutely nothing here – so not everyone’s cup of tea. The park sports a pretty good shop that stocks a surprisingly good array of fresh produce and of course all the fishing bits. Sadly the people who run the place appear to have ‘stood behind the door’ when the personalities were handed out, but hey, it’s not really that big a deal – not everyone can be personality plus. One really surprising little gem is that the shop sells the most beautiful rolls fresh baked every morning – they are huge and one between us is perfect for lunch. There is a little market held each Wed and Sun afternoons. The long-term park residents (that is most of them) put on little stalls of the stuff they make, fairly typical things like jewellery, knitted items and such. Wednesday evening is Burger night, and although we didn’t partake, we have been assured by all that they are wonderful. Sunday night they have a pizza night – once again didn’t try one so cannot tell you what they were like. Many of the long term people here are musos and generally wonderful music resounds around the campsite late afternoons and early evenings.
The whole place revolves around the tides and fishing. The tides here are huge. One lady put on her pedometer to walk out to the water at low tide the other morning and it clocked 2 ks – just to get to the water’s edge. At high tide, the water is at our doorstep, so to speak. Blokes just love it here! Up in the morning to sort out the fishing gear, talk about fishing, set up the rigs, talk about fishing, have a cuppa, talk about fishing, ...........I’m sure you get the picture. Many of the ladies here also like to fish, but I think the big bonus for the women here is that the men are gone for at least a couple of hours each day and the women are left to their own devices. That means we can pursue whichever of our favourite pursuits takes our fancy, all in blissful peace and quiet. Looking at the markets I guess many ladies make things, like the jewellery and such. Me, I did some reading, explored computer generated art and wrote my first children’s book. I had a wonderful time! The bloke also had fun. Although he didn’t manage to score a big White as they call the big Threadfin Salmon that are popularly caught of this beach, he did catch plenty of Blue Nose Salmon – very delicate fish and quite nice eating. Mind you after eating fish for 6 nights in a row, I was ready for something else last night. No, no, no, ....keep your mind above please!
Oh, you may have realised that I didn’t mention swimming as an option here, that’s because only the very foolhardy would jump into these waters. Many, many sharks are caught here on a daily basis, and some of them are very big fellas indeed. The fisher folk have lots of trouble with big things taking their lines and very large rays playing havoc with their lines and gear. One of the bonuses of the big tides tho’ is the shells. I have never seen so many shells before. As the ocean recedes you can just wander at your leisure collecting whatever you wish. As my granddaughter Chloe just loves shells I have made sure I have some pretty ones for her.
I have been out in the late afternoon meandering along the ocean floor while the sun sinks below the horizon – a more surreal experience I find hard to imagine. Where else can you actually walk on the ocean floor without actually being in or under the water. To think that only a few hours ago and then again in a few hours time, where you are walking will be deep ocean and just teeming with all sorts of fish is incredible. The first afternoon I went out to do the ocean walk I was completely alone as the sun sank into a bed of soft grey clouds. As the sun dropped in the west, all manner of reflections moved across the widening expanse of wet sand. Clouds set strange shadows and unbelievably in the far distance whales surged from the water frolicking on their way south. I experienced a sense of complete and utter peace as I slowly wandered along the beach, occasionally selecting a choice shell for Chloe. I selected a soft sand dune on which to sit and watch the sunset – as the colours softly at first developed, I could see all the soft and pastel colours of the pearls for which this part of the country is famous. From the soft pearlescent colours slowly the savage and wild colours of the north developed until the entire sky was aflame. Every day if you look carefully nature will provide you with a miracle – this was one of them and I felt very blessed.
This place is one where many grey nomads come ‘for the season’ arriving in April and leaving in September (or similar). As we have arrived here, many of the ‘locals’ are leaving for their southern homes. We can certainly see the attraction here. The weather is now quite warm, but basically pretty balmy. Compared to down south, just beeyootiful! I suspect that many of the regulars here are old hippys re-experiencing their youth. I’m sure they have all been off living responsible family lives for the last 30 years or so and have now kicked off their yolks of respectable normality and are once again living what is almost a commune style life. No, I’m not suggesting that they have wild sex romps or anything of that kind, but rather a lovely ‘thumb your nose at the Jones’ lifestyle that to me at least, seems really appealing. There is no keeping up here, quite the contrary, I sense that it is a competition to chill out. Hmmmm, I think I could get used to that. In fact, we have agreed that when time and life permits, we will be back here again for a much longer stay. Perhaps not at the peak of the season but rather at around this time of the year again as the camp empties out.
We had a lovely surprise when we arrived here. As the day wound down we heard some Country and Western music wafting up from one of the tracks nearby. Doug commented that it sounded familiar, and sure enough, when I went to investigate, Yvonne and Hank, our new mates from Darwin were camped just around the corner. It has been great to catch up with them. Doug has had a fishing buddy (a really experienced one who has passed on quite a bit of knowledge) and we have had some lovely times together reminiscing about our stay in Darwin. Yvonne set up a stall at the Sunday market, partly to sell her beautiful jewellery, and partly to cut hair. The jewellery sold well and they came from far and wide to have hair- cuts. It was amazing.
A kind new friend and fellow blogger, Rob, recently suggested that I try my hand at childrens’ books. I had not thought of it before and at first dismissed the idea. However, while we were here, I became concerned about the plight of a rather battered Pheasant Coucal that lives here at the park and found myself writing a little story about her. I am quite pleased with the outcome and am considering having it published. We’ll see.
To my absolute delight, the Bloke has started reading. In the entire 8 (almost) years that we have been together, I have never really seen him read anything just for pleasure. Finally, he has finished one book, admittedly biographical, and now is deeply immersed in a novel – brilliant!
Well folks, that is pretty much it, from Eighty Mile. We leave here tomorrow heading into Port Hedland for a couple of days. While there we are going to try and catch up with my ex husband and his wife – I know it sounds weird and perhaps it is, but really, we are all oldies now and surely old grievances should be dead and buried. I called him from Broome to warn him of our imminent arrival and he sounded quite bemused and not a little scared! I’ll let you know how it goes.
There is only one caravan park here so no competition, however if you are considering coming to this unusual little paradise, these are the particulars:-
Gravel/dirt road – quite good, around 10ks. – no dogs – amenities are OK (quite good really) – store is well provisioned – staff are less than friendly – grassed sites, getting better all the time, red dirt roads. Lifestyle – wonderful – but you need to stay at least 3 days to get the feel of the place.
Make Love Not War – Steph.
For those who don’t know, Eighty Mile Beach some 330 odd ks south of Broome is a fishing mecca. The only thing here is the caravan park. Until last year the park was lush and tropical sporting large shady trees and lots of nice green lawn. Sadly, early this year a large and destructive cyclone knocked the proverbial stuffing out of the park. Many of the trees were either uprooted or ringbarked by the winds and many of the buildings were either severely damaged or completely destroyed. As we haven’t been here before , it is hard to place a comparison on the before and after. Now, the place is pretty bare although the trees that did survive the onslaught are gradually reclothing themselves in lush new foliage and the lawns are slowly returning to some of their former glory. Things weren’t helped much by flooding rains in July this year. Oddly enough, this is one place where we are told by all the locals, rain hardly ever falls, and yet it has rained yet again while we are here! One of the predominant features of the place is a roughly 10k red dirt road into the park and of course all the park roads are also that wonderful deep red soil, some would say bulldust. After the last couple of days’ rainfall of course all the roads have turned from dust to mud – deep red into everything mud!
Despite the red bulldust, we just ‘love’ the place. There is absolutely nothing here – so not everyone’s cup of tea. The park sports a pretty good shop that stocks a surprisingly good array of fresh produce and of course all the fishing bits. Sadly the people who run the place appear to have ‘stood behind the door’ when the personalities were handed out, but hey, it’s not really that big a deal – not everyone can be personality plus. One really surprising little gem is that the shop sells the most beautiful rolls fresh baked every morning – they are huge and one between us is perfect for lunch. There is a little market held each Wed and Sun afternoons. The long-term park residents (that is most of them) put on little stalls of the stuff they make, fairly typical things like jewellery, knitted items and such. Wednesday evening is Burger night, and although we didn’t partake, we have been assured by all that they are wonderful. Sunday night they have a pizza night – once again didn’t try one so cannot tell you what they were like. Many of the long term people here are musos and generally wonderful music resounds around the campsite late afternoons and early evenings.
The whole place revolves around the tides and fishing. The tides here are huge. One lady put on her pedometer to walk out to the water at low tide the other morning and it clocked 2 ks – just to get to the water’s edge. At high tide, the water is at our doorstep, so to speak. Blokes just love it here! Up in the morning to sort out the fishing gear, talk about fishing, set up the rigs, talk about fishing, have a cuppa, talk about fishing, ...........I’m sure you get the picture. Many of the ladies here also like to fish, but I think the big bonus for the women here is that the men are gone for at least a couple of hours each day and the women are left to their own devices. That means we can pursue whichever of our favourite pursuits takes our fancy, all in blissful peace and quiet. Looking at the markets I guess many ladies make things, like the jewellery and such. Me, I did some reading, explored computer generated art and wrote my first children’s book. I had a wonderful time! The bloke also had fun. Although he didn’t manage to score a big White as they call the big Threadfin Salmon that are popularly caught of this beach, he did catch plenty of Blue Nose Salmon – very delicate fish and quite nice eating. Mind you after eating fish for 6 nights in a row, I was ready for something else last night. No, no, no, ....keep your mind above please!
Oh, you may have realised that I didn’t mention swimming as an option here, that’s because only the very foolhardy would jump into these waters. Many, many sharks are caught here on a daily basis, and some of them are very big fellas indeed. The fisher folk have lots of trouble with big things taking their lines and very large rays playing havoc with their lines and gear. One of the bonuses of the big tides tho’ is the shells. I have never seen so many shells before. As the ocean recedes you can just wander at your leisure collecting whatever you wish. As my granddaughter Chloe just loves shells I have made sure I have some pretty ones for her.
I have been out in the late afternoon meandering along the ocean floor while the sun sinks below the horizon – a more surreal experience I find hard to imagine. Where else can you actually walk on the ocean floor without actually being in or under the water. To think that only a few hours ago and then again in a few hours time, where you are walking will be deep ocean and just teeming with all sorts of fish is incredible. The first afternoon I went out to do the ocean walk I was completely alone as the sun sank into a bed of soft grey clouds. As the sun dropped in the west, all manner of reflections moved across the widening expanse of wet sand. Clouds set strange shadows and unbelievably in the far distance whales surged from the water frolicking on their way south. I experienced a sense of complete and utter peace as I slowly wandered along the beach, occasionally selecting a choice shell for Chloe. I selected a soft sand dune on which to sit and watch the sunset – as the colours softly at first developed, I could see all the soft and pastel colours of the pearls for which this part of the country is famous. From the soft pearlescent colours slowly the savage and wild colours of the north developed until the entire sky was aflame. Every day if you look carefully nature will provide you with a miracle – this was one of them and I felt very blessed.
This place is one where many grey nomads come ‘for the season’ arriving in April and leaving in September (or similar). As we have arrived here, many of the ‘locals’ are leaving for their southern homes. We can certainly see the attraction here. The weather is now quite warm, but basically pretty balmy. Compared to down south, just beeyootiful! I suspect that many of the regulars here are old hippys re-experiencing their youth. I’m sure they have all been off living responsible family lives for the last 30 years or so and have now kicked off their yolks of respectable normality and are once again living what is almost a commune style life. No, I’m not suggesting that they have wild sex romps or anything of that kind, but rather a lovely ‘thumb your nose at the Jones’ lifestyle that to me at least, seems really appealing. There is no keeping up here, quite the contrary, I sense that it is a competition to chill out. Hmmmm, I think I could get used to that. In fact, we have agreed that when time and life permits, we will be back here again for a much longer stay. Perhaps not at the peak of the season but rather at around this time of the year again as the camp empties out.
We had a lovely surprise when we arrived here. As the day wound down we heard some Country and Western music wafting up from one of the tracks nearby. Doug commented that it sounded familiar, and sure enough, when I went to investigate, Yvonne and Hank, our new mates from Darwin were camped just around the corner. It has been great to catch up with them. Doug has had a fishing buddy (a really experienced one who has passed on quite a bit of knowledge) and we have had some lovely times together reminiscing about our stay in Darwin. Yvonne set up a stall at the Sunday market, partly to sell her beautiful jewellery, and partly to cut hair. The jewellery sold well and they came from far and wide to have hair- cuts. It was amazing.
A kind new friend and fellow blogger, Rob, recently suggested that I try my hand at childrens’ books. I had not thought of it before and at first dismissed the idea. However, while we were here, I became concerned about the plight of a rather battered Pheasant Coucal that lives here at the park and found myself writing a little story about her. I am quite pleased with the outcome and am considering having it published. We’ll see.
To my absolute delight, the Bloke has started reading. In the entire 8 (almost) years that we have been together, I have never really seen him read anything just for pleasure. Finally, he has finished one book, admittedly biographical, and now is deeply immersed in a novel – brilliant!
Well folks, that is pretty much it, from Eighty Mile. We leave here tomorrow heading into Port Hedland for a couple of days. While there we are going to try and catch up with my ex husband and his wife – I know it sounds weird and perhaps it is, but really, we are all oldies now and surely old grievances should be dead and buried. I called him from Broome to warn him of our imminent arrival and he sounded quite bemused and not a little scared! I’ll let you know how it goes.
There is only one caravan park here so no competition, however if you are considering coming to this unusual little paradise, these are the particulars:-
Gravel/dirt road – quite good, around 10ks. – no dogs – amenities are OK (quite good really) – store is well provisioned – staff are less than friendly – grassed sites, getting better all the time, red dirt roads. Lifestyle – wonderful – but you need to stay at least 3 days to get the feel of the place.
Make Love Not War – Steph.
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