The next day was spent zooming down to Perth, so that we would have a few days there with Devin before he left for Sydney.
After arriving back on the mainland, we spent a night at another free campsite along the coast south of Denham, this time at Whalebone Bay. The evening was beautiful – the clouds were incredibly dynamic, and continued to please through the last hours of daylight as the wind whipped them into all kinds of colorful shapes. Unfortunately, we spent the better part of this time fixing a broken tent pole. Though it was a bit of a pain, both Mar and I couldn’t help but be a little impressed that the $25 pawn shop tent had lasted this long (4-5 months of near-daily use) without any malfunctions or catastrophes. While there was still light, I showed the Aussie fish gods that I wouldn’t go down without a fight and did my best to do some fly fishing off the beach. Stromatolites! The next morning, we finally had our chance to visit the stromatolites. They looked just as we expected – blandly colored blobs of slimy rock just below the water’s surface. Nevertheless, we paid homage to the industrious, stromatolite-building cyanobacteria that literally breathed life into this world, by sacrificing two kangaroos, a wombat and some German backpackers. Science be praised. We spent the bulk of the afternoon powerhousing down to Geraldton, which turned out to be a very pleasant and surprisingly populated town. We had grown accustomed to the simple necessities provided by sleepy beach towns and were therefore taken aback by the capitalist splendor that was Geraldton’s strip mall region. We took the opportunity to sneak into a glorious megastore aptly named Barbeques Galore, just to see what a name like that could possibly entail. I may have seen God when I saw the 3 in. thick ceramic-walled charcoal grill that could have easily cooked two thanksgiving turkeys simultaneously. Think about it – simultaneous turkeys! I was equally covetous of a gorgeous gas grill that featured a 4 ft x 2 ft grilling space, two-fifths of which was a flat grill plate (an Aussie standard, which allows you to pretty much BBQ anything under the sun). Drool. ANYWAY, there was no camping to be had in town, so we moved on Perth-ward. Just south of Geraldton, we suddenly realized we had stumbled into serious farm country. By this time in our trip, all of us were yearning for some foliage; after spending the better part of 5 months in desert scrubland, the sight of lush rolling hills, huge, swaying fields of grain and dramatically gnarled, windswept trees was pretty amazing. We were a little too excited to see herds and herds of fluffy sheep milling about, looking altogether pleased with their place in the world. And to top it off, the sun decided to set at that very moment, covering everything in copper and gold. You’d think we would have stopped at least once to take a picture, but we didn’t. So sorry! It was great, I promise.
The next day was spent zooming down to Perth, so that we would have a few days there with Devin before he left for Sydney.
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Without Em, Devin turns to little furry creatures for affection Off the west coast of Australia is a fairly large island that has several claims to fame. Dirk Hartog Island first holds the westernmost point of Australia, and second the history of the first recorded European landing on Australian soil by Dutch explorer Dirk Hartog in 1616. The island is privately owned, but the family is working to establish it as a national park. We happened to contact Kieran Wardle, the current owner, about wwoofing at just the right time – right as he was beginning construction on a solar powerhouse for the homestead. The only way to reach the island is to travel by boat or small plane, and Kieran just so happened to be picking up 2 tons of cement on the mainland by boat, just around the time we were scheduled to arrive in the area. Dirk Hartog is located in the Shark Bay World Heritage area, just off the coast of the small town of Denham. Not only is this area considered a sanctuary for hundreds of different marine animals, but it also plays host to a very nerdy attraction: stromatolites! We were of course super excited to catch a glimpse of these rather unimpressive looking underwater formations, which, for those who are unfamiliar, are the blob-like, rock-like life forms that billions of years ago produced enough oxygen to allow oxygen breathing creatures to evolve. As I adjust my nerd goggles I say, “hooray stromatolites!” On our way into Shark Bay we paused to see them but light was running low and conditions were too windy, so we decided to make it an exit visit. Eagle Bluff There are four awesome free camping areas on the way into Denham (where we were to meet Kieran) and we spent the night at the impressive Eagle Bluff closest to town. We arrived on top of the bluff just in time to catch the magnificent sunset and spent another relaxing night by the sea. Denham Denham was a cute port town in the way we expected Exmouth to be. It had one main street lined with cafes, tour shops, and fishing stores all facing the beautiful water of Shark Bay. We weren’t in town very long before Kieran arrived and introduced himself, giving us our first tasks of retrieving some BLT burgers and helping to load the boat with cement and food. Dirk Hartog is isolated enough that all food and other supplies must either be airlifted or retrieved by boat once per week. Once we were finished arranging the two tons of cement so that his small center console boat wouldn’t sink, we were on our way across the bay. By boat it takes roughly an hour to cross from the mainland to the island. The day we arrived happened to be calm and windless, apparently very rare this time of year, so the water below us was smooth like a mirror and incredibly clear. We were cruising along at top speed, halfway across the bay, when we noticed a large object near the surface directly in our path. As we got closer we realized it was an enormous sea turtle, the size of a bathtub at least! Kieran couldn’t see it from the driver’s seat and continued on a potential collision course. Right as we were about to hit, the turtle realized his impending doom and frantically paddled below the water in an “oh shit, oh shit” turtle fashion. He ducked below just in the knick of time. The rest of the journey across opened up a world of marine life none of us had witnessed in the wild before. As we cruised along, pods of humpback whales breached the water around us. We spotted dolphins, sharks, and giant schools of fish bubbling at the surface. Flying fish burst out of the water and flew for several meters in the air. By the time we reached the island, the three of us were geeking out so hard we figured we had stumbled upon the most magical place on earth. The homestead was beautiful – made of limestone blocks and thick timber, positioned right on the water’s edge. It had been built back in the 1800’s when the island had been used as a remote sheep station. We arrived just after the last of the paying guests departed, but we were not the only wwoofers taking up residence. Four Germans and one Dutch wwoofer were also there to help with whatever needed doing. To our great surprise, two of the German wwoofers were two young women we had wwoofed with before at Wilderness Farms in the Northern Territory! It was great to reunite with Steffi and Katrin, especially in one of the most remote and unique parts of Australia. Indentured servitude at its best. Work at Dirk Hartog centered on the solar powerhouse project, and we arrived just as they needed to mix and pour the concrete foundation. Before we could do that, however, rocks were needed to use in the mix, so for the first few days we would venture out to various remote locations and collect any rocks we could find that were smaller than an egg. Needless to say it was horrible, unsatisfying work. It would have been fine had everyone on the island (including the seven children) gone out for just one day to rake up and collect rocks, but usually there were only a few of us and all we had was one rake and several buckets. After three hours of bending over and sifting through sand and antique sheep poo, the trailer still appeared largely empty, and many times we returned to the homestead without much to show for our labor. The one cool aspect of the job was that the “rocks” we were collecting were, for the most part, prehistoric sea fossils. We found many whole fossilized shells and a few whole clams. Shame that they were being put into concrete. Some random old Greek man posed for this picture. When we finally got down to the cement mixing, it took the three of us a few shifts to really get in the groove. Turns out cement mixing is a lot like baking a cake, and once we finally got the recipe right we were able to punch out batch after batch incredibly quickly. If we weren’t fast enough, or if our mixture was not up to par, Anthony, the visiting cement master, would get very cranky. It soon became a game between Anthony and Kieran (who was helping us mix) to see who could do their job faster, and Kieran would motivate us to have Anthony backed up with extra wheelbarrows of ready concrete. When we were doing well, Kieran would come over and say, “We’ve got him now - he’s really annoyed, good job guys!” We each had our roles in the mixing process, whether it was shoveling rocks or pouring in cement powder, sand, or water. At the end of the day the blowback and sputtering from the mixer left us looking like we had been in some sort of muddy battle. When we weren’t working the family let us take full advantage of their facilities and fantastic location. We kayaked around the bay, went fishing, and took the Troop Carrier on excursions to other parts of the island. Kayaking, especially on a calm day (of which there were few), made for some spectacular creature watching. Out in the shallow waters you could often look underneath the boat and observe turtles, stingrays, sharks, and occasionally dugongs! Devin and I were paddling into shore after the sunset and spotted a small reef shark just a few feet from our kayaks bursting out of the water to chase a fish! The proud fisherman and his Pink Snapper The fishing was spectacular everywhere around the island, especially off the coral reefs just near the shore. We went fishing one evening with Anthony’s friend Craig, a retired banker who now cuts women’s hair as a casual profession, after learning to do it while in Singapore. [I let him experiment with my hair, which he cut incredibly short. I was in a state of shock for quite some time.] While we were out by the reef, Ben’s fly line caught something monstrous! It pulled his line so hard that the reel spun out of control and bashed his knuckles. Before Ben could tighten the drag the fish pulled the line onto some sharp coral, causing it to snap. Ben unfortunately spent most of the remainder of the trip untangling and retying his line. Devin and I fished with bait and were pretty successful. I caught four fish that were all beautiful but too small to keep: a Spanish Flag, a Black Snapper, a Parrotfish, and a Pink Snapper. Devin caught three, two of which we kept and ate that very night! Pink Snapper is the specialty fish of Dirk Hartog, being beautiful, feisty, and delicious to eat. Devin’s largest fish, and the largest fish caught on the trip, was a 65 cm Pink Snapper. Woot! Dirk Hartog's Dramatic Western Coast We made two major excursions during our weeklong stay at Dirk Hartog. The first was an afternoon spent at the Blowholes. The homestead is located at the southeastern part of the island and the Blowholes are directly opposite on the western side. The island’s western coast is breathtaking and strikingly different from the calm, beach laden eastern coast. Waves from the Indian Ocean run unbroken for hundreds of nautical miles and finally crash into this westernmost point of Australia. Because of these intense conditions, the western coast of Dirk Hartog is rough and rugged, lined with dramatic limestone cliffs. There was one blowhole in particular that sounded like a jet engine, and spewed salt spray hundreds of feet in the air, high above the cliffs on which we stood. There was another point along the cliffs where the wind was so strong you could barely stand. Nevertheless, it was worth the risk of being blown off the precipice just to see the spectacular view. We could hardly believe where we were, it seemed so surreal. On our last full day on the island, we drove the troop carrier up and around the northernmost part of the island (a 3 hour drive on dirt track) and spent the night at Urchin Point, where a simple fishing shack had been built. The inside of the shack was covered in the graffiti of the numerous visitors to the island. Most were written on driftwood and other flotsam and jetsam, and then tied to the ceiling rafters. Quite a few mentioned impressive catches of the day off the shore nearby. There was even a map drawn on the wall of the shoreline where good fishing spots could be found. While there was still light, Ben ventured out to try to catch at least one fish on Dirk Hartog, one of the most renowned fishing locations in the world. Instead of giving him a fish, the sea decided to take some flies. Ben came back from fishing a bit grumpy, but Devin and I set him straight by giving him a cold beer and reminding him where he was in the world, albeit without fish. Homeward bound through the dunes After a chilly night’s sleep in some very rudimentary swags, we awoke to a spectacular scene: migrating humpback whales and pods of dolphins breaching the water practically at our doorstep. After a good breakfast of sausage and eggs we made a quick drive-by viewing of the nearby Mystery Beach before heading back to the homestead. We arrived just in time to pack our bags and catch the small charter plane back to Denham. The day before, as we prepared for our trip to Urchin Point, Devin just happened to ask Kieran’s wife Tory what the schedule was for trips back to the mainland in the coming week. We were shocked to find out that our only option was to leave the next day. We had expected to stay at least a few more days, so this felt a bit like a rather sudden eviction. It had to happen, however, in order for Devin to catch his train in Perth. The plane ride was beautiful, but we were sad to leave so soon. Turquoise Bay, Cape Range NP Successfully restocked and needing to get moving down the coast, we left Karratha for a bit more atmosphere. We had heard from numerous Australians and travelers that the small town of Exmouth was definitely worth a look, so we made it our next destination. The town itself is nice, but not exactly what we had expected. It had been described to us as an old port town, but was instead situated further inland and didn’t really exude any “oceanside town” vibes. However, Cape Range National Park, just a few kilometers away, did stretch along the coastline and was absolutely spectacular. In terms of land planning it felt like they had set up the town a bit haphazardly and saved the best parts of the peninsula for the national park. Ready for action. All along the coast the park had at least 9 different beachside camping areas as well as entry points for snorkeling the adjacent Ningaloo Reef, which is famous worldwide as a spot to swim with the great whale shark and manta ray. Obviously for these activities one needs to book a tour, but there was plenty of awesome marine reef life to see just by walking into the water and swimming out about 50 meters. Certain areas were designated as areas for “drift snorkeling” where the tide takes you along the reef from one sandbar to another. Turquoise Bay was one of these locations and it was where we spent our day at Cape Range. Unfortunately it was a bit windy and chilly, but that didn’t stop us from venturing out into the crystal blue waters. We also only had two sets of flippers and one snorkel mask between the three of us, so Ben purchased a $3 set of children’s snorkel facial wear for the day. He wowed the beach crowds with his fashionable eye turtles. Eugene H. Krabs, owner of the Krusty Krab. Meanwhile, cruising along the reef, Devin found himself in the company of several black-tipped reef sharks casually clumped together, but wisely left the area when they became a bit too curious. Since I was without snorkel equipment, I walked through the water still able to look down at the schools of bright, large silver fish following me and waiting for handouts. Another fabulous thing we observed was fish surfing – more than once we watched as a large reef fish would ride the top of the incoming wave across the water towards the beach. Righteous! A rare Australian amber ale, from Little Creatures That evening we enjoyed the fabulous sunset on the dunes near our campsite along with a few of our favorite Australian microbrews. The next morning, we decided to move on to the tiny coastal town of Coral Bay, another recommended spot, where we had been told we could do a bit of free beach camping (and more snorkeling). Coral Bay was incredibly tiny, the whole town mainly comprised by the two caravan parks and a few tour shops. The surrounding beaches were pristine, with most locals and visitors sticking to Bill’s Bay accessible right from the main street. We spent our first afternoon here, enjoying the warmer weather and water, spotting sting rays and even a cuttlefish which instantly became transparent, squirted ink, and shot away as soon as Devin’s underwater camera entered the water! Paradise Beach The next day we ventured around the southern point of the bay, far from the crowds, to the gorgeous Paradise Beach. We were shocked but thrilled that we had this fantastic strip of snorkeling real estate all to ourselves! We had rented snorkel gear for all of us at a really cheap rate, so without hesitation we flew into the crystal waters to visit the fishies. There were some incredible fish along this part of the Ningaloo, parrotfish, angelfish, pink snapper, and many that we had never seen before. This reef seemed to be brimming with giant clams, and we had a blast duck diving to pester them. While swimming along a shallow point, only inches from the rock bed below, I alerted Ben that his unmentionables were dangerously close to a giant clam mouth he happened to be floating above. With that disaster averted, we spotted a cluster of four or five cuttlefish hovering a few meters away and instantly changing color as they moved near different types of rock and coral. Ben spent much of the afternoon fly-fishing the reef, unfortunately without much success due to the winds, but still in an unbeatable, beautiful location. After soaking in far too much sun, we retreated to a northern point of the Coral Bay area known as Maud’s Landing. Fairly isolated, you needed to drive a ways down a dirt road to get there, and after speaking with a few backpackers that morning, determined it would be a good, safe place to guerilla camp. We nestled our tents among the dunes to stay out of sight and left our car at the parking area on the top of the hill. The beach next to where we camped was also a turtle rookery. It was just in the beginning of egg-laying season, so there were no turtles spotted, to our dismay. Just after sunset as we were sitting along the coast, I spotted a weird fin shape jutting out of the water in the surf. It disappeared, but minutes later we saw it again and realized it was a 3-4 foot reef shark! We followed it for a few meters as it coasted right along the edge of the water, so close that it seemed it was at risk of beaching itself. We awoke to watch the sunrise the next morning, had breakfast on the beach, and packed up before any day visitors arrived. We then continued our journey south, ready for our next wwoofing adventure we had scheduled on an island in Shark Bay. It’s official: we’ve made it to the west coast! We’ve traversed Australia from East to West, woohoo! We arrived earlier than anticipated, since we initially planned on first spending a few days romping around in Alby on the western half of the Gibb River Road, a famous 4WD track that cuts straight through the heart of the Kimberly and boasts some of the best scenery Australia has to offer. Some say the land surrounding the Gibb is Australia’s last frontier due to the extreme road conditions, numerous river crossings and general lack of humanity. Naturally we wanted a piece. A sweet pair of hooters at our first campsite in Broome Neville had previously suggested, given our time constraints, that we at least drive in enough of the way to see Bell Gorge. We were just about to start gearing up in Derby for the trip when we happened upon a very important and not well advertised bit of information that became our reality check – that there would not be a drop of petrol to buy for the entire 600+ km loop we intended to drive. On top of that, the dirt track would be extra corrugated and generally brutal due to it being the end of the tourism season for the area. As we ruminated on this, we took one look at Alby and could almost hear him whimpering, pleading with us not to subject him to almost certain death. There was a collective gut feeling that Alby didn’t stand a chance, so we decided to call it a miss and pass on the Gibb River Road. We were absolutely gutted over this, but knew we’d probably made the right choice. If I find myself back in Australia sometime later in life, I am flying to Darwin, renting a solid, DIESEL four wheel drive and I am doing the Gibb east to west and not stopping til I make it to Derby, so help me Gahd. Mar soaking up the rays at Cable Beach When we arrived in Broome, we immediately liked the vibe. Back in the 19th century, Broome was a boomtown for the Asian pearling industry, allowing it to prosper despite its remote location. Due to this disconnect from the rest of Australia, the town developed a unique character. While the rest of Australia seemed to ignore the fact that they are more an Asian country than a European one, Broome has embraced it. There were classic Aussie corrugated steel buildings with curved roofs in the Japanese style, streets with names like Matsumoto and Yu, and plenty of Asian-inspired food. Walking around town you felt more like you were on an island in the South Pacific rather than some alternate dimension Texas. We were particularly excited about spending some time at Cable Beach, a lovely expanse of powdery white sand and swimmable waters. We took this opportunity to finally use the trick kite that Devin had hauled since Brisbane. I took this opportunity to continue the tan that my stubbies had started. I'm fairly certain offshore ships could see the reflection off my lily white thighs and thought it was some kind of distress signal. Broome's iconic open-air movie theater (featured in the film Bran Nue Dae) Due to our time spent with Neville, who came from Broome and spent nearly a decade working on pearling boats, it felt like we had a more intimate knowledge of the town before we even saw its downtown. While we were at his home in Udialla, Neville would regale us with stories from his pearling days. It turns out Neville was one of the last of the traditional pearl divers, using the metal and glass helmet that was hand-screwed onto the oilskin suit, which was weighted down with lead-soled shoes and fed with air through a tiny hose that went all the way back to the ship deck. Bad. Ass. Spectacular Gantheaume Point We only spent a few days exploring this awesome place, but while we were there we enjoyed some spectacular coastal sunsets. One of our favorite spots was Gantheaume Point, a dramatic outcropping of ocean and wind-beaten rock that proved to be a prime sunset viewing location (and contained some fossilized dinosaur footprints!). It went especially well with a bottle of wine, “reduced for quick sale” cheese, cherry tomatoes, olives, bread and chocolate. Apparently the area held strong cultural significance to the local Rubibi people – we could certainly see why. Refreshing brews on a sweaty Broome night We also had another rare tasting of great Australian microbrew in Broome’s own Matso’s Brewery. Their prices were a bit outrageous and although we were largely ignored by our waitress and paid far too much for some toasted bread, the beer itself was quite delicious. We sampled six of their in-house brews and one of our favorites was surprisingly their Mango Beer. I say surprisingly because we usually shy away from fruit-flavored alcoholic drinks, but the mango they use is local and the taste is subtle yet refreshingly sweet. It went really well with their very spicy Chili Beer to create a “chango” beer as we were told to call it. It was the kind of beer you salivated over on a hot day in Oz. We were hoping to meet back up with Neville while in Broome, since he brought up the possibility of a bit more work in the Dampier Peninsula, but that never worked out. Seriously lacking in funds, we decided it was time to move on south and look for work. |
Marielle & BenWe're two people in the midst of severe quarter-life crises who decided to leave good jobs in a bad economy to travel to the other side of the world because, well, why not? Archives
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