Entry 7: We're off to see the Westcoast, the wonderful Westcoast of Oz...

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After 36 hours of travelling, which included three separate flights, we’d jumped forward nine hours to get to Sydney (via Johannesburg) and then lost two, by flying the width of Australia once again to arrive in Perth.
We were met at the airport in Perth on the 12th of November by Tina; a lady who I’d met twice and Sam once only a month previous. The unfortunate circumstances of a family funeral had brought Tina to England to stay with some relatives who were friends of ours. It was her first time out of Australia and her lack of previous knowledge and preparation for such a trip led to an embarrassing but amusing story when she arrived for check-in at the airport. Not knowing what to expect from the English weather, she’d packed extensively to the tune of three large suitcases; completely unaware of any weight limit allowance on her luggage. Therefore, it must have been quite a shock when she was informed that she had an excess baggage payment of over $1000. This led to the frantic unpacking of all three, and the repacking of just one of the cases, leaving her mum to take the excess back home. She’s a real character and in true Aussie style, liked a drink, spoke her mind, and had a good sense of humour; we liked her immediately. She’d had her own little adventure whilst on our small island by hiring a car and taking to the road. She sat in the outside lane of the motorway doing 50mph, waving at the seemingly friendly British folk who were flashing their headlights at her from behind before undertaking. During a jaunt down the West Country, so amazed was she at the narrowness of the country lanes that she wanted to take a photograph. However, realizing that she needed some kind of object to highlight scale, she simply got out of her little hire car, (that now created a complete road block) walked 30 yards further on, turned to frame her subject and took a picture. To the complete bemusement of a few locals that had pulled up in their own cars behind the apparent broken down vehicle, she simply returned, jumped back in, and drove off; well why wouldn‘t you?
On hearing that we were coming to the west coast of Australia Tina insisted on putting us up while we were in Perth, and it was a gesture too kind to refuse. Tina lived with her husband Heath, a keen fisherman and Aussie Rules fan, and their delightful son Hudson who could well be in the running for the best behaved little boy in Australia. We were made very welcome in their lovely home that is constructed on three levels, built mainly from wood and glass, and had its own pool. The location was perched up on higher ground about 25 minutes outside the centre of Perth with distant views of the city itself.
We stayed in this luxury accommodation for two nights while we formulated a plan on how best to take in the west coast and some of the highlights it has to offer. During this time we were treated to Tina’s wonderful cooking, an increasingly rare comfortable bed, free internet, and unlimited use of their spare car. We did have a drive out one night to Kings Park that’s elevated above the Perth commercial district and affords some good views of the city. It was a clear night so we were able to put our star gazing knowledge to the test and identify a few constellations. In particular Orion who’s belt is one of the easiest formations to spot, and my personal favourite due to it’s striking simplicity; three bright stars that although completely unrelated seem to be evenly spaced in an almost perfect line.

Our plan for the west coast would involve the hiring of a small campervan and undertaking the drive from Perth to Broome; some 2200km, and that’s without any detours for general sightseeing. To divert to Monkey Mia for instance could be as much as a 280km round trip.
We thanked Tina and Heath and left with a generous invitation from them to return when we flew back to Perth from Broome some twelve days later. For now we had a long drive ahead of us as we tried to cover as much ground as we could during the late afternoon and evening in our compact little camper.
Although a major route, this is Western Australia and The Great Northern Highway was a simple two lane road, no different to a ‘B road‘ back home. Being the outback there wasn’t much to see apart from road kill, and there was plenty of that; due mainly to ’road trains’. For those of you unfamiliar with road trains, these are haulage lorries that due to the vast distances they cover, it makes financial sense to carry vast amounts of their specific cargo. Therefore, these large American-like rigs often tow up to four trailers behind them and can measure over 36m in length and we counted 74 tires on one lorry alone; hence the name road trains. Considering their size they don’t hang about, and I would imagine that the drivers of these monster trucks are taught not to swerve for anything, for their own safety, for the safety of other road users, and of course their precious loads. Therefore if any animal chooses the wrong time to cross the highway, there’s only ever one winner.
We drove well into the night and due to tiredness ended up stopping in a car park in Dungara. Overnight camping in the car park was prohibited so we turned the interior lights off and went straight to sleep so as not to draw attention to ourselves . Up early in the morning, we were back on the road and albeit slightly later than planned made what should have been our first stop; the small coastal resort of Kalbarri.
Approximately 600km from Perth, Kalbarri is situated at the mouth of Murchison River on the west coast, and named after an Aboriginal man from the Murchison tribe. Kalbarri has a National Park area and on our way into the small town there were numerous turn offs leading to stunning cliff edge views of the coastline.
Whilst making our way to one of these viewpoints I saw my first living kangaroo. We stopped and turned off the engine and watched the kangaroo bounding through the scrub, stopping momentarily to check out its surroundings. At that very moment, I felt like I’d finally arrived in Oz. It was the perfect reminder that after all the planning we were finally here, in this unique land down under.
We managed to get into a camp site that meant we looked out onto the beach, where visitors can get involved in the organized feeding of resident pelicans on a daily basis. After some breakfast, we drove out to some more of those viewpoints where once again (like in South Africa) we’ve watched pods of dolphin making their way along the coastline.
The one ever-present annoyance since we arrived on the west coast has been the flies; and they are unrelenting in their quest to irritate the sanity out of us. We’ve perfected our ‘Aussie wave’ and we’ve had to purchase some fly spray for the van. The trouble is, there’s a hidden danger to casually swatting these little shits because they’re often accompanied by little black bees of the same size, and slapping those against your skin can be an altogether more uncomfortable experience, as Sam can vouch for after being stung twice on the foot when two of these small bees got themselves stuck between her foot and the strap on her sandal.
We stayed the night in Kalbarri, watching another beautiful sunset, and listening to waves breaking on the shore. But the one notable thing that night was the amount of moths that swarmed the place; there were literally millions. There were so many it was hard to believe that its the norm around here, but we never did find out, and with a light above our van, we had large moths thudding against the roof and sides all night.
The following morning we stopped several times to look out over some impressive gorges during a another long drive, this time to Monkey Mia; a place made famous due to the wild bottlenose dolphins that turn up almost regular as clockwork everyday to be hand fed. Of course, the brochures would have you believe it’s because the dolphins enjoy the interaction with humans. Now, that may or may not be the case; I’m no expert. But the one thing that made me slightly skeptical about that theory was the dolphin’s lack of interest in that same human interaction once the buckets of fish were empty. Having said that, these dolphins are wild and free to roam the ocean, yet feel at ease enough to come into the shallows to receive this free and easy food source from a human hand. Furthermore, they also bring their calves in so that the knowledge is passed from one generation to another, ensuring that along with it’s pristine sandy beaches and turquoise waters, Monkey Mia remains firmly on the tourist map.
As well as the dolphins we did have an encounter of a different kind whilst in the water at Monkey Mia. The weather on the west coast has been beautifully predictable with clear skies and sunshine all the way but it’s the hottest, driest temperatures I’ve ever experienced. So we decided to have bit of a snorkel to cool down, and I left Sam in the water whilst I went to the get the face masks from the van. On my return Sam told me that whilst standing in the water some inquisitive fish had made contact with her ankles a few times. Ten minutes later standing in water waist deep, I felt a bump against my left leg, and although it felt heavier than those fish Sam spoke of I didn’t think to investigate at that point. It wasn’t until it slowly brushed past my right leg that I looked down and was more than a little startled to watch a sea snake making it’s way to the surface. Now, all I know about sea snakes is that they’re extremely venomous, so much so that a bite is highly likely to result in death, so as it made it’s way out to sea, I made off in the other direction towards the beach, in such a hurry that I think I created not only an impressive bow wave, but a wake that pulled Sam towards shore behind me.
Due to the continuing invasion of flies, we also purchased a face net each which allowed us to wander around outside without slapping ourselves in the face every two seconds; seriously, we’ve both seen people sectioned under the Mental Health Act for less disturbing behaviour.
Shark Bay, where Monkey Mia is located is a World Heritage Site, and although the dolphins are a major tourist draw this area is by no means a one trick pony. It also boasts Denham an old pearling port and Australia’s westernmost town, 230 species of bird, 150 species of reptile, stunning beaches including, Shell Beach which as it name suggests is made up almost entirely from tiny shells that in places reach a depth of several metres. There are superb views from lookouts such as Eagles Bluff where it’s possible to spot amazing marine life such as dolphins, manta rays and dugongs in the clear waters below. The main reason that Shark Bay has World Heritage status however is predominantly due to an area called Hamelin Pool. Here is where living examples of Stromatolites, the world’s earliest forms of life on earth can be found, and are the most accessible of their kind on the planet.

BLOG (chapter) 14 - 10^th Draft 2019





“Quote Required”



– Anon.





The weather on the west coast had been beautifully predictable since our arrival. With clear skies and sunshine all the way, Monkey Mia proved the hottest, driest temperatures I’d ever experienced anywhere in the world up to that point. So we decided to have bit of a swim to escape the heat. After spotting a ray on the sandy bed, shortly after entering the sea, I left Sam in the water while I went to retrieve our face masks from the campervan. On my return Sam told me that whilst standing in the water, some inquisitive fish had made contact with her ankles several times. Although I acknowledged the occurrence, I thought nothing more about it. Not five minutes later, whilst standing in water waist deep, I too felt a bump against my leg, and although it felt heavier than those fish Sam had described, I didn’t think to investigate. It wasn’t until it slowly brushed past my right leg whilst remaining in contact with my left, that I quickly looked down and was more than a little startled to watch a sea snake making its way to the surface. Now, I’m no herpetologist, but I do know that some sea snakes, that I couldn’t reliably identify, are among the most venomous snakes found on earth. So much so that a bite from certain species would, in all probability, result in death. As it swam between us and then headed out to sea, I made off towards the beach, only marginally slower than a jet ski. I was in such a hurry that I think I created not only an impressive bow wave, but a wake that pulled Sam towards the shore behind me, whether that was her intention or not. I attempted to utter some nonsense about thinking I’d left the van unlocked in order to hide my self-preserving blushes. However, this failed and Sam had already begun mocking me before I’d even managed to leave the water. Karma would avenge my cowardly actions later that afternoon when, in a moment of unnatural haste to enter the campervan, before I’d fully opened the passenger door, I met that door with a sickening crunch; causing a small split near my right eyebrow. It was the second time being in a hurry had embarrassed me that day. That’ll teach me.

Due to the continuing invasion of those intolerable flies, we purchased a face net each, which allowed us to wander around outside without slapping ourselves in the face every two seconds; seriously, we’ve both dealt with people sectioned, under the Mental Health Act, for less disturbing behaviour.

Monkey Mia is located in Shark Bay, and although the dolphins are a major attraction, this area is by no means a one trick pony. There are approximately 230 species of bird, 150 species of reptile and pristine, empty beaches, including Shell Beach that I’ve already mentioned. There are superb views from lookouts such as ‘Eagles Bluff’ where it’s possible to spot diverse marine life including dugongs, sharks, manta rays and those dolphins in the clear waters below. However, the main reason that Shark Bay has UNESCO World Heritage status is predominantly due to an area called Hamelin Pool. There, thanks to the high salt content of the water, is where living examples of stromatolites, the world’s earliest forms of life, can be found. They are also the most accessible of their kind in the world. All-in-all, Shark Bay is a pretty remarkable spot on the map, if not a little remote.

We moved on from the Shark Bay area to a spot that Sam’s sister, Cassie, once claimed as her most favourite place in the world, Coral Bay. Located just North of the Tropic of Capricorn and approximately eleven hundred kilometres from Perth, it took us at least five hours, after leaving Monkey Mia, to arrive at this idyllic resort that sits at the Southern end of the renowned Ningaloo Reef. Luckily, we arrived just before reception closed and therefore managed to secure ourselves an electric hook-up for our campervan in a park, perfectly located, just a hop, skip, and a jump away from the beach. Unfortunately, due to our schedule, we stopped for only two nights in the picturesque little bay, but that was enough to add a few more memorable highlights to our ever-growing résumé of experiences. The trouble was, the calming, relaxing warmth of the sun, golden sand and azure sea remained juxtaposed to those unrelenting, infuriating flies from hell.

With the flies still pestering us above sea level, it was time to get back underwater as we donned our snorkelling equipment once more and headed out to the reef to fulfill yet another dream and fly with the manta rays. These giants of all the rays can grow to over six metres in width but move with a grace that belies their size and weight. With the waters so clear and the mantas so big, it was suggested that they’re relatively easy to spot from above. So while we left the shore with a group, on a chartered boat, a light aircraft was already in the air searching for a telltale large dark shadow in the water. I, for one, was hoping they could tell the difference between a manta ray and a tiger shark, which was likely to deliver a whole new experience. On the subject of sharks, one of the ultimate dive experiences, we had on our tick list, was to swim alongside whale sharks, which can also be granted on the Ningaloo Reef. Following the full moon in March, there is synchronised mass spawning of coral, and it’s at this time when the whale sharks come to town, the largest known seasonal aggregation of its kind. Unfortunately, it was the wrong time of year for these leviathans to be passing down the coast, but we’d realised this during our research, prior to our trip, so we weren’t surprised or disappointed. They remain on our wish list.

While the plane was circling we were able to do some snorkelling amidst the reef, which contains a huge amount of marine life. Designated as the Ningaloo Marine Park in 1987, the Ningaloo Reef is what’s known as a ‘fringing reef’, which basically means it’s located near a shoreline. It’s the most common form of reef, but this one is Australia’s largest, and one of the world’s closest when it comes to proximity to land. Ningaloo is the Aboriginal word for promontory, or headland. Being able to walk straight off a sandy beach and swim out to the reef means its accessibility (only a hundred metres in some places) makes it a rival to its more famous, east coast, cousin the Great Barrier Reef. Seventh on a global list of coral reef biodiversity hotspots, it’s been referred to as the Maasai Mara of the underwater world. With manta rays, whale sharks, dugongs, humpback whales and dolphins all passing through, it’s not hard to see why there’s been a comparison to the African plains and their Big 5, although few of these, if any, are a danger to a would-be hunter. There are approximately five hundred species of fish on the reef, as well as over 220 species of coral, not to mention, which I’m just about to of course, the abundance of both hawksbill and loggerhead turtles.

Shortly after getting back on the boat, our skipper received a message from the spotter plane and promptly set course to an area where something had been sighted. So what happens next? One of the guides quietly enters the water, without splashing, and locates and confirms that it is indeed a manta ray. I’m guessing that if it isn’t, then what follows is quite the opposite, with lots of noisy splashing amidst crimson water and the guide doesn’t return, at least not with all the limbs they went with. Luckily for her, on this occasion, the shadow, although not belonging to a manta, was that of another species of ray, a bull ray. However, the next shadow was successfully identified and she signalled to half of the group to make the same smooth entry into the water and swim quickly, with minimal commotion and splashing, to her. She followed the ray from above, with her arm held high out of the water so as we could all see her. Once we had caught up, we swam just above and behind the magnificent gentle giant, which our guide later estimated to be maybe three-to-four metres wide. After several hundred metres we stopped to tread water, while the other half of the group had their turn and the boat picked our group up. We did this twice, allowing for a fairly lengthy swim and excellent views of a beautifully elegant fish.

Following our swim with the manta, we had another spectacle to see that we weren’t expecting. A shark ‘cleaning station’ is a site where sharks, or other marine life for that matter, congregate to be cleaned by smaller fish. The sharks slowly approach the area in an unnatural way, i.e. with mouths wide open or swimming in an unfamiliar manner to indicate they pose no threat. The smaller fish then go about getting a free meal by removing parasites and other morsels. It’s a scene of rare harmony as the sharks ignore their predatory instinct and allow the smaller fish to do their work and remain in one piece. We could observe this behaviour while snorkelling above.

My first real memories of snorkelling were with my dad and brother in Mallorca when I was twelve years old. Dad took us over the other side of some rocks that created the marina at Palma Nova during our first family holiday abroad. I remember feeling apprehensive in deeper water. Reassured by my dad, a good swimmer, he found a large boulder that was hidden, submerged, just under the surface of the water. We could stand at any time should we want to, or go under water and glimpse at the amazing, hidden world beneath; I was fascinated. Some twenty-three years later, here I was, once again, with snorkel and face mask, this time with Sam in the Indian Ocean, off the coast of Australia, swimming in approximately thirty feet of water, without the safety of a boulder to stand on, above several sharks. Over the course of that time, the ocean had lost none of that wonder I’d experienced (thanks to my dad) as a child.

We had at least three, six-foot, grey reef sharks circling around beneath us, and although they’re generally considered no real threat, that doesn’t mean there’s no history of attacks on humans by reef sharks, there is. It was my first time in the water, when there were sharks visible without the protection of a cage; it was quite a thrill. At least it was until that damned (Jaws) theme tune reared its ugly tuba. Those two suspense-laden notes conjured up a thought that the reef sharks were just a distraction and was I missing the approaching giant? Damn you Steven Spielberg.

As we stepped off the gang plank, feet sinking into the wet sand, the day’s excursion ended, it had been yet another eventful day.

The sunsets can be truly stunning in this part of the world, and we watched another, that evening, whilst sat on the Coral Bay shoreline with a beer each, the true Aussie way.

I was up at the crack of dawn the next morning with my camera, leaving Sam to sleep in. As I strolled around the small bay, early enough to be comfortably devoid of people and flies, to my delight I was joined by a lone dolphin. Albeit in the water, like me it made its way around the shoreline, taking advantage of the peace and quiet. It was a lovely moment and made getting up early all the more worthwhile. In fact, I considered it more of a one-to-one encounter than that during our visit to Monkey Mia. But just like Monkey Mia it would not be the only encounter with nature that morning…

As we moved our campervan to a different spot, even closer to the beach , I lifted the lid on the electric hook-up unit. Being ever spider wary, I always peered underneath instead of blindly fumbling with the plug and socket. There, nestled in the corner, was a redback. Cousin to the North American black widow, it’s one of Australia’s disagreeable species when it comes to arachnids. Although deaths from bites are rare, (confined mainly to the very young and elderly) they can still inject neurotoxins that induce severe pain. Being almost slap bang in the middle of those two age groups I’d have fancied my chances, but I preferred having seen it and therefore avoiding the discomfort.

Leaving Coral Bay we thought that Cassie had been a good judge in making it her favourite little point on the world map. However, it was up to us to reveal more west coast treasures as we followed the Ningaloo northwards…

TOTAL WORD COUNT 2, 071

(revised)

We left Coral Bay, and thought that Cassie had been a fairly good judge in making this her favourite little point on the world map. We were now headed to Exmouth, a non-descript town of scattered bulidings found near the tip of the North West Cape and was established in the mid 60’s to support a naval base built by the Americans. A new marina that’s in mid-construction looks set to transform the place, but it was the Naval base and the continuation of the Ningaloo Reef that brought us up here.
Exmouth is on the opposite side of the peninsula to the reef, with only one sealed road leading to it, but the 65km seemed like a drive round the block to us now. We’d planned to do some more snorkeling on a well known part of the reef called ‘the drift’ near the aptly named Turquoise Bay. During good weather conditions you simply walk several hundred metres down the beach, enter the water swim out to the coral and ’drift’ on the current while the fish and coral bombies pass beneath. However, there are warnings that you must exit the water before you approach the entrance to Turquoise Bay due to a strong rip current that funnels all that water back out to sea via a break in the outer reef. If you’re unfortunate to be taken by that current, you won’t be heard or seen over the breaking waves in the distances that crash over the reef. Furthermore, beyond that outer reef is deep water, and home to large predators like tiger sharks. All in all it’s best to heed the warnings and remain this side of the outer reef; that could well be the understatement of the trip. Unfortunately, the day we’d chosen turned out to be very windy with a high ocean swell. This results in more water breaking over the reef which in turn causes an increase rip current, turning the so called drift into a fast flowing river. We enquired at the information office about the safety aspects of attempting the drift in these conditions and were strongly advised against it. Disappointed and extremely hot we snorkeled around the safer parts of Turquoise Bay instead, but visibility was fairly poor due the rough conditions.
During dusk and nightfall it’s advisable (as a tourist) to keep driving to minimum. There’s a good reason for this, they’re big, they’re a little bit stupid when it comes to traffic, and they make a mess of your car if you hit them; they are of course, kangaroos and they come out as the sun goes down. So after watching the sunset over the Ningaloo once again we were faced with that 65km drive back to our campsite in the dark. We started of at 80kmph, which was fairly slow by our standards but at times we were down to 40kmph as we counted over a hundred kangaroos on our journey back. Luckily we only hit three and fortunately none caused any damage to the van……………………only joking!!

Apart from the Ningaloo Reef I mentioned that the Naval Base was the other reason we were here in Exmouth. Back in Coral Bay whilst on the boat waiting for our manta ray to show up , we had another one of those ‘tip offs’ to a place that I’m sure will become one of the top highlights of our overall trip. Just like Hermanus the whale watching town in South Africa, we had no knowledge of the Navy Pier when we first came to Australia. For any diver that’s been here that could almost sound criminal, but having only recently qualified I guess our focus (if we can be forgiven) was on the Great Barrier Reef. The guy who told us about it stated that it was among the top 10 dive sites in Australia when it comes to marine life, and from that moment on we were sold. After our disappointment at not being able to snorkel ‘the drift’ the day before, our luck changed as we managed to secure two places with the one and only dive operator that organizes dives on the pier, which is closed to the general public thankfully. I better back that statement up by telling you that in our limited experience Joe Public’s clumsiness around coral reefs results in the continual damage of these amazing spectacles. Instead of just looking, it just seems too irresistible for people not to touch. Either that or divers consistently demonstrate poor buoyancy, or try to swim over reefs that are too shallow or through holes that are too small.
After a briefing on our dive plan, what we could expect to see, and the possible dangers, including the highly venomous stonefish (the sting of which can be fatal) it was time to head to the naval base. Once there we had our passports checked before making the short drive to the end of the pier. There were five of us including our dive master and whilst still in the minibus she was already pointing things out to us including a large turtle that had just broken the surface for air, and several sea eagles that have made their nests on the dolphins (two separate parts at the end of the main pier; not the aquatic mammals) adjacent to the main pier; which in hindsight would be akin to a fox building a den on a free range chicken farm. Once out of the van one look into the water gave us an idea of just how good this dive was going to be. Fishing has been prohibited here for over twenty years, unless you’re a sea eagle of course, and the subsequent benefits of this were immediately obvious. Our entry into the water would be even more exciting than going in backwards off a boat, as we did in Zanzibar. This time we would have to step off the pier, demonstrating the big stride entry method into the water some 10ft below. Holding onto our regulators and masks we hit the water with a mighty splash before entering what I can only describe as fish soup. It was impossible to look in any direction without seeing hundreds of fish of all types and sizes. As we made our way between the legs of the pier, which themselves had been colonized in coral we saw large cods, batfish, a beautiful painted cray, huge schools of barracuda, and trevally. Further down, the sea bed is littered with debris from the pier’s construction, creating a stronghold for more coral which in turn provides homes for more species such as those scorpion fish and stonefish we’d been warned about. Clownfish, moray eels, angelfish, trumpet fish, butterfly fish, moorish idols, parrotfish, the list goes on and on. At one point we must have hovered over a wobbegong for at least 30 seconds while I tried to point it out to Sam who couldn’t instantly see this 6ft, expertly camouflaged member of the shark family. To finish off probably the quickest 50 minutes of our lives, we also managed to get up close to four white tip reef sharks that had been hanging around for the duration of the dive.
As we exited the water, swapping buoyancy for gravity via a ladder, we were reminded once again of the heaviness of our air tanks and weight belts as we heaved ourselves back onto the pier. Once above the surface of the water we were immediately swarmed by flies, but not even they could dampen our excitement at what we’d just experienced. It was a dive that is now the bench mark that all subsequent dives will now be compared to. Sam probably described it most accurately by saying: If you took a good aquarium and put everything they had in one large tank, you’d have something close to resembling the navy pier. Exmouth may not have been the most picturesque of towns, but our dive under the pier was beyond amazing, and was worth the trip on its own.

Once showered, we began our push towards Broome, covering some 400km before resting up at Nanutarra Roadhouse. These roadhouses are conveniently located in the middle of nowhere’s and essentially petrol stations, they also supply electric overnight hook-ups for campervans as well as basic amenities, or at the very least some human interaction for those who may have been on the road alone for hours on end. It affords the opportunity to get close to nature once again as you share the toilet and shower facilities with geckos, frogs, large moths and whatever else may be attracted in by the bright lights.
The following day we made the final push as we drove from 7am till 7pm with a few stops thrown in for sustenance; covering over 1000km.
We shared the driving, although I have to confess I’m a terrible passenger and spent most of the time behind the wheel. Being well rehearsed in driving at speed through traffic back home, I’m far from a nervous passenger. However, Sam seems to have discovered her own unique form of multi-task-driving whilst in the outback which includes: swatting stowaway flies, adjusting the air-conditioning vents, applying sunscreen to her window-arm and thighs, and administering lip balm, all whilst doing 130kmph in windy conditions with fast approaching road trains on narrow roads; it’s not for the faint hearted I can tell you.
During the drive we’d passed an area called Marble Bar which since 1924 still holds the title of Australia’s hottest place after going 160 days during which time the temperatures never fell below 38 degrees Celsius.
After 3432km we finally arrived in Broome. We’d left the red earth and the scorching dry heat of the outback, and were greeted by a thunderstorm, the same high temperatures but with extremely high humidity. Entering this climate saw an end to the flies which was a relief, even if we did have to swap them for uncontrollable sweating.
Broome is a laid back town these days, with a good tourist industry, but this hasn’t always been the case. Back in the 1880’s Broome was established as a pearling centre by Japanese entrepreneurs, and in peak times its 400 luggers supplied 80% of the worlds mother-of-pearl, although these riches did not come cheap with countless Japanese, Malay and Aboriginal divers losing their lives; many of the latter being exploited and forced into the trade.
Named after an undersea telegraph cable from Broome to Singapore, Cable beach is Broome largest, an immense stretch of beautiful flat sand where in certain places cars are allowed onto. However, the tides come in quick and several drivers and their cars get caught out each year. The north end of Cable beach is one of Australia’s best known nudist beaches which ends rather fittingly, and not an inch too soon at the mouth of Willie Creek.
With the oppressive heat and our busy schedule to get here, we spent the time relaxing and taking in a few of the towns more notable points of interest. One of these was Sun Pictures which claims to be the world’s oldest open-air picture house. Built in 1916 means that it’s as old as Hollywood itself, and the opportunity certainly wasn’t going to be wasted on us as we booked our seats to see a film the second night we were in town; and we couldn’t have picked a better movie!
ROGUE is a film about a bunch of tourists on a boat safari amidst the gorges and waterways of Australia’s Kakadu National Park where they are terrorized by an enormous crocodile. Yeah, yeah I know, same plot different location, but it was certainly more in keeping with where we were than some multi-million sci-fi blockbuster.
So there we were sitting in our deckchairs, outside but slightly undercover due to the second storm in as many nights waiting for the film to start. Other than the large screen and the odd lightning strike in the distance it’s pitch dark. I’d kicked off my flip-flops once we’d sat down and shortly after that was when I felt it. I couldn’t instantly tell what it was at first but it was slimy and it was suddenly on my foot. Only when it leapt off did I relax from my frozen state, realizing it was only a frog. My close encounter with the sea snake had obviously mentally scared me more than I thought. Sam of course was in fits of laughter; with the film not yet started I think she must have sounded a bit mental herself. The slime left on my foot was the kind of rustic touch that you just don’t get in those modern multi-screen super cinemas in the cities these days.
Sleeping in the van at night with little to no air passing through the open windows has been really hot and sticky and we keep flannels in the freezer part of the vans fridge to lay on our faces when we go to bed. When we do manage to get to sleep we’re awoken early by the bizarre cacophony that makes up Broome’s unique dawn chorus. It starts with the frogs at approximately 5am, and when the frogs have belched their last the birds take over; both are capable of making the weirdest of sounds. We’re torn between listening, which is as fascinating as it is amusing, or grabbing a few hours extra sleep by putting our ear plugs in; we never do though.
South of Cable beach is Gantheaume Point where the red and orange sandstone sculptured by eons of wind and water contrasts sharply with the blinding white sand and the electric blue of a cloudless sky. There’s a small area carved out of the rock known as Anastasia’s Pool. It tells of a lovely tale where a former lighthouse keeper chiselled out a bath-like hole in the rock in which his wife could soak, soothing her arthritis. In all honesty he probably just wanted here moaning arse out of the house so he could get some peace and quiet, but it‘s a nice story all the same.
Whatever the reason we were drawn there to take a look, but not just at Anastasia’s sandstone spa, we were there to try and find some fossilized dinosaur footprints which even at 120million years old can still be seen at very low tide.
Whilst in Broome we took our career break to the next level when a woman collapsed in a café where we were sat enjoying a coffee. An ambulance was called as we cast a skeptical eye over the event, choosing to remain anonymous behind our sunglasses. Sure enough the ambulance crew came and went without conveying the lady anywhere, who by now had made a miraculous recovery; we ain’t lost it!

We continued to be blown away by these truly stunning Aussie sunsets, as the first of our road trips in Oz comes to an end. I hope it’s not the last time we see the west coast of Australia, and with whale sharks still on our ‘To Do’ list I’m sure it won’t be. It’s been rustic and free of package holidaymakers and we’ve both thoroughly enjoyed it. With sea snakes, manta rays, kangaroos, redbacks and sharks it’s been a good introduction to the Australian outdoors and coastal waters.
As we head back to Perth for a few days and then onto Uluru (Ayres Rock) our next two entries will be somewhat shorter due to spending only a few days in each place. I feel that they need to be separate blogs as plane journey’s separate them, call me old fashioned. After that we’ll begin our next road trip on the East coast. For now, it’s back to Tina’s as our adventure in the Western Territory draws to it’s conclusion.
Crikey! That went quick!…………………………..

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Photos

Views of Perth from Tina & Heath's
Thanks for putting us up and for putting up with us.

Coastline at Kalbarri.
From one of the many viewpoints.

Hello from Oz!!
We've arrived.........

Road Train
THE DELIVERER OF DEATH AND DESTRUCTION.....or anything else you may require delivering in bulk.

Gorges at Kalbarri
Gorgeous gorge (wasn't he in 'Snatch'?)

It's a long empty road ahead.
Straight as an arrow...

Pelican at Monkey Mia
Pelicans.....they're all mouth

Pelican with fish
Pelicans fishing.....easy as shelling peas

Beach at Monkey Mia
Sod the dolphins...we choose to dice with death with sea snakes

Dol-fin
Flipper's sick sense of humour led him to terrify small children paddling in the sea......

Fan tailed Eagle....I think?
So big, it made me 'chuck a U'ey Mate!!'

Crab at Coral Bay.
96, 97, 98, 99, 100.........comin' ready or not!!

Sunset at Coral Bay
Sunset sunglasses......brilliant. Everyone should have a pair

Pitstop!!
In Sam's case.......piss-stop!!

Kangaroo
Yes.....that's correct!!

Coralhenge
Too much coral and too much time = idiocy..

Sunset at Exmouth
Best Yet.

Sunset over the dunes at Ningaloo Reef
The sun lowered itself into the sea after hearing how good the snorkelling was...

Kangaroos
As stupid as they look

Australia's version of Table Mountain
Rubbish.........a coffee table at best!!!

Aussie Outback
Australians wouldn't give a Castlemaine XXXX for anything else!

Yes......another ROAD TRAIN!!
At 120kmph there's only one winner when road trains and kangaroos go head to head.

Termite Mound.
Neil stood and admired the obstruction he'd just passed.

Made it......
3432 Km driven after leaving Perth............we arrive at Broome.

Cable Beach in Broome
Lying in meant we missed our spot on the beach again....

Sun Pictures
The oldest open air cinema in the world

Front row seats at Sun Pictures
Where frogs are thrown in for free.....

Dinosaur footprint
or is it turd....I mean toad-in-a-hole - Sam

Girl in a hole
stuck between a rock and a soft face

Gantheaume Point
two more fossils at Gantheaume Point....

Broome sunset
As the sun sets on our time in Broome