Category: 2021 (Page 2 of 3)

Year 2021

And, we are away

September 10, 2021 / fiandadrian

By Fi

We left, we left, we left, we left!!!! It was not a hard decision to leave the relative safety of the Cherbourg Marina, but it was one that seemed to take a lot of effort. It is quite hard to explain – its like the dock is magnetic and I guess because it is so safe and we were getting to know Cherbourg quite well, we were feeling comfortable, and we had to make that decision to again be uncomfortable, and to go into the unknown – but this has so many other benefits such as exploring, adventure and having new experiences. So one evening, we felt the winds and waves were okay for a sail away the following day. The following day came, and we thought the same thing about the next day, so we waited. Just till the next day 🙂

I navigated out of our berth, heart racing as I am still not comfortable with how big and heavy the boat is, and what the forces such as current and wind will do to the boat while it is stuck in a berth with only 1 or two lines attached, while Adrian is trying to detach them all in the most safe order. As it were, we were fine and we headed out from our berth at about 07:30 in the morning. Into the cloudy, cold, grey, summers day. We were headed to the Alderney race.

The Alderney race is a piece of water where the massive tides in this area run through. It can be extremely dangerous, and so understanding the tide and the wind is very important. It needs to be right. Battling against a 3 knot current, with the wind against it is uncomfortable, slow and can be very dangerous. We chose the time where the tide would push us through the race safely, and in relatively benign wind and tide conditions (around neap tides – the smallest tidal difference in the monthly calendar). Bernie likes to keep me company when we sail by sitting on me. At no other time does he do this. Perhaps he is satiating his nerves due to the race?

After dodging crab pots along the coast, we got to the race at about the right time. We still took a couple of hits from the current as it whirled around and grabbed the boat and spun it a little, but it definitely sounds worse than it felt. We were fine and have had worse. We headed south towards the Channel Islands.

We skipped through the Balliwick of Gurnsey, and past Jersey as we would need to check in to the area – and with Bernie, plus Covid, it is all just too complicated – best we stay in France for a while longer. Granville was our ultimate destination, and required some very careful planning again. Some of the spots we managed to sneak a peak at are absolutely gorgeous.

I would expect as a totally novice sailor, this area would not be the one chosen from the outset. The tides here are among the largest in the world. Granville was a tidal marina, and to keep the water in the marina, a wall (AKA a “sill”) has been built on the sea bed, so that at low tide, the water stays in the marina. We needed to time this perfectly in order to not hit the sill.

We called up Granville marina a few hours out from our arrival, and checked that they had space for a 45 ft heavy aluminium sailboat, and they did. They said they would even be there to help us dock – PHEW!!! When we motored in, we had enough water over the sill but the tide was running and there was a bit of current – so the extra help docking was welcome. We got into our berth okay, and to be honest, we went and found some wine as it had been a big trip to Granville and the tides and currents were massive, and sometimes it seems like the crab pots we are almost constantly dodging are actually attracted to our boat… It is tiring, and a tonic was in order!

With marina behind the sill, it means at low tide here, you can walk on sand, on the other side of the sill wall – I hope you can see the people walking outside the wall in these photos. When the tide is about 1/3 high, boats can go over the wall as there is enough water. So timing is everything.

On a side note, apparently we were the first Australian flagged boat they have had at the marina in their memory. We got a discount 🙂 We loved it here!

The tide here has just dipped below the wall. Eventually, everything at the bottom of this photo will be sand, with the marina and its floating boats behind. You can see Away on the right.

Sand has now appeared on the other side of the wall. This is the view from Away.

People walking at low tide at the entrance to the marina collected seafood.

Granville is gorgeous!! It was the seaside childhood home of Christian Dior and also a popular seaside resort town – and we could understand why! It was HOT! We had come from the relative cool and dreary weather of Cherbourg, to essentially summer! It was 28 degrees C and beautifully dry. There is a large fishing industry here, and we enjoyed walking the ramparts of the old town on the hill. We also got to walk at low tide along the expanse of beach that appears. People are collecting mussels, oysters and whelks for their dinner – or for their restaurant – we weren’t sure, but enjoyed all the shell fish. This picture is of Christian Dior’s childhood home.

More of La Plage du Plat Gousset at low tide – it is huge at low tide, and then at high tide there is no beach at all!

Some white wine and oysters in a beautiful bistro in a cobblestoned alley way in the old town. Filled with French locals – we were feeling pretty good.

After a few days, and of course the inevitable boat jobs, we were again finding ourselves in the evening pouring over charts, chart plotters, cruising guides and the “Reeds Almanac” (aka the bible) and planning our next steps. Here’s the thing – we were planning to leave on the biggest tide of the month – called “Spring” tide and the difference in height was going to be 11m. You can imagine 11m of seawater moving in and out of the area here over a 6 hour period is going to create some serious water movement. The tides here are the 3rd biggest in the world, and we were planning to go out when they were literally at their biggest. So it was with some angst, that I was looking at the tide charts and possible routes.

Leaving day came. The tide was high, the wind was from the south, and this meant that the relatively calm and safe marina that we were about to leave, was totally the opposite. The waves were coming in full force, the wind was gusting, the boats around us were bouncing around and lots of excited people were adding extra fenders and ropes to their cleats. And Adrian said to me “ok ready to untie the lines??”. To which I responded with the appropriate amount of… fear. But eventually, convinced that I was catastrophising and that we had options once we were out there, and that “out there” was better than bouncing around and hitting a dock, I untied the lines, and Adrian did a stellar job of driving out of the berth. Please note this serene photo of Away in its berth is not reflective of leaving day…

And yes, once we were out, things felt a lot better. The boat sails nicely, and we had a plan. Or so we thought. Some quick back of the hand calculations proved that I had overthought the planning, and my back of the hand calculations from the evening before were wrong by half – we were not going to make our intended destination with enough time not to hit the bottom on the way there – remember the tides are the biggest on this day, and timing was everything – and my maths let me down.

New plan – which was actually the old plan, the first plan we ever came up with, but then replaced with a dozen other plans, before settling on the current plan, which we are now replacing with the first plan – honestly, sailing is as much physical as it is mental – angsty!! Plan is now – lunch at a place called Iles Chausey (pictured) – a gorgeous outcrop of small islands, clear blue water and sunshine, followed by a leisurely sail south to St Malo, where we would time the possible 4 knot current against us perfectly to get into a massive lock to get into an inner harbour… Ok – to explain better….

Our new plan, which was the original plan…

Our boat sails nicely at 7 knots. We can go faster, we can go slower depending on conditions. 7 knots is nice. So imagine that we are going into a 4 knot current – we would only be going 3 knots which isn’t fast, or better yet that 4 knot current, is actually going side to side across us pushing us quickly sideways faster than we can go forwards – so yeah, I was concerned we wouldn’t make it so well. Already the day was pretty hectic, and here we were battling the massive currents. As it were, we saw a maximum of 2 knots going across us, and we crabbed our way in through the outside channels of St Malo. Its pretty weird watching a marker or a rock straight in front of you actually move sideways as you are technically sailing sideways due to the current. But we would make it to the big lock in time! Here is one of the obstacles we needed to dodge to get into St Malo.

As we waited a few minutes for the lock to open, I prepared our lines, and tried to work out what would happen – at time of writing, having successfully navigated the lock, I’m still not sure what actually happened. As you can see from this photo, I was pretty confident St Malo was going to be worth the angst.

A lock is essentially a small piece of water with doors on both ends – in this case sea on one side, and a safe basin on the inside. The lock keeper opens the doors at the basin side where the water is high, and lets boats in to the lock. The doors close, and the water in the lock is let out. Once the water in the lock meets the water on the sea side of the lock (where we were waiting), the outside doors open, boats go out, boats (we) go in, and then the outside doors close, and the lock fills up with water, until it reaches the same level as the inside water, then we can go into the basin. Which is what we did….

… with a giant tanker and like 7 other boats…

Did I mention this day was already pretty angsty???????? !!!!!!

Into the basin we went, and Adrian again did an absolutely perfect job with docking. We got into a spot that probably shouldn’t take a boat our size, and we didn’t break anything or hurt anyone so it is all good.

We were exhausted – and had a quick dinner and bed – and we found a bottle of wine, aptly named – Angst.

Bernie did so well, I always amazed at how chilled he is, and how a few quick cuddles with him can settle any nerves I have about tankers being so close, and shouting French lock keepers and tide and wind and all the etcs that go with sailing.

What an experience.

Bernie sitting with me on the port side.

Our few days in St Malo will be next up 🙂 Then planning for the next!

First Trip Away

August 27, 2021 / fiandadrian

By Adrian and Fi

It was time to leave the dock on our first adventure. Sitting at the dock waiting for work on the boat to be completed was not satisfying, plus there is the age old adage of letting go of the dock vacuum, so we set a date and made a plan to head 35 miles around the coast to St Vaast La Hougue. The journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step, or engine throttle push as the case may be.

On a grey and overcast day we cast off the lines and Fi accurately negotiated our marina exit which has barely more room than the length of the boat. We set sail as the showers loomed and we pondered if the radar was going to be helpful. Thankfully the showers stayed onshore, the winds freshened and we zipped along the coast helped by over 3 knots of current at times. The sun even decided to grace us with its presence. Speed over ground was 10.5 knots.

Sailing Away began to feel familiar, in a way – Addictive had really prepared us for this moment. No longer was Away this massive heavy scary beast, rather it became much like my (Fi) first car, simple and reliable, easy to drive and responsive. A familiar friend who we could trust.

By late afternoon we approached St Vaast harbour and managed to negotiate a small berth without crushing too many boats… phew. We did learn that tying up docking lines is very hard when the boat is in slow forward. Oops. Thankfully there are loads of wonderfully friendly locals who are more than happy to lend a hand.

St Vaast turned out to be that picture perfect French seaside town. Fishing boats tied to the wharf, fresh fish sold on the dock and a suitable number of shops selling blue and white stripped knitware, and yellow raincoats. There was even a music festival on, and what’s not to like about a Dutch bicycle band serenading the port each afternoon. Of course in order to hear a whole song, you also need to be on a bicycle…

Our bikes and a Bernie trailer allowed us to cycle a few miles up the coast to a beach side lunch spot, and a suitable Bernie beach. A yacht dried out on the sand next to the restaurant… maybe us someday soon!

We found an old fort on a dog walk around the coast and even walked out to an island that is only accessible at low tide. The tides transform from oyster beds at low tide to sail training areas at high tide.

We enjoyed our stay so much we extended a few days, but eventually it was time to leave and so we quickly headed out to deeper water away from the crab pots. Away ate up the miles delivering us back to familiar Cherbourg late afternoon.

For other new owners picking up boats in Cherbourg we would recommend a trip to St Vaast. There are some challenges as the the race off Barfleur needs 5-7 miles clearance or cross it at slack tide as we did. We saw the race from land during wind against tide conditions with breaking waves miles out from the lighthouse.

St Vaast harbour is only open for a few hours around high tide (times on their web site). We tried booking a berth online and got no response. A quick phone call confirmed that there was space and to select our own berth on arrival.

Its a great way to stretch your sail legs as sailing to St Vaast means you are going around a corner. For us it meant that we tested almost every point of sail. We clocked 9.2 knots boat speed close hauled going into St Vaast in flat water. It was awesome fun. We did reef both the Genoa and the main at one point as the apparent wind increased around the corner towards St Vaast.

Tidal flows around the Barfleur race were over 3 knots and this pushes the crab pot markers under the surface so keep a good lookout. All quite manageable with some prep and St Vaast is worth the effort.

Its also perfect as a first trip because timings from Cherbourg usually mean that you hit the race at a good time, and then you will also be in St Vaast at the right time for the gate to be open. The reverse is true going back to Cherbourg.

Make sure you visit Maison Gosselin for some great wine and in house roasted coffee beans, and eat some oysters. The market on Saturday is great. Eat all the food is our main recommendation. Walk out to both forts as the views are spectacular and walking through the oyster beds is a real experience.

So yes, St Vaast as a first experience cruising on our new boat was perfect.

Getting Away

August 15, 2021 / fiandadrian

By Fi

I’m genuinely not sure that the puns using the boat name are ever going to stop… but I expect they will have to because there are only so many variations using the word “Away” that my brain can compute.

Again, its been a while between posts but for good reason! We got Away! And its been hectic. I’ve taught the boat yard folks doing the handover with us a new phrase – “Drinking from the fire hose” – because that is how it has been feeling.

Our first two days on Away (Thursday and Friday), entailed getting to know the boat a little so we could sleep and cook and do the necessary. We also moved all our belongings (12 boxes plus suitcases) on to the boat and tried to get as much of it put into logical places. Easier said than done when the lockers are all different shapes and sizes, and also there is storage under storage, under beds, under floors etc.

We learned about the systems and did a lot of testing. Then we had the weekend to really unpack and settle in, and take the 25 minute walk to the shops over and over again for supplies, and the supplies we inevitably forget. I promise I will include some nice inside photos in a sec.

Day 3 and 4 were spent on the harbour here in Cherbourg, hoisting sails, testing the single line reefing system on our mail sail (used to reduce the amount of sail for windy conditions), testing the stay sail, the solent and the gennaker. All working so well and we love how the boat sails (thank goodness because prior to now, we didn’t actually know how it sailed).

Here you can see our beautiful red gennaker looking fabulous against the ocean and our black hull.

We also spent time doing some “close quarters manoeuvring” – or in other words, trying not to hit other peoples boats while we try to dock ours.

I was up first for close quarters work, and with the help from Kevin (our handover specialist) I parallel parked the boat a few times, using the bow thruster and getting the feel for the dual rudder system. I wasn’t allowed yet to reverse the boat into our slip, mainly because neither of us had seen it done before, and the space between the dock on one side is about 20cm, and the neighbours boat on the other side is about 20cm, so you can imagine Kevin preferred to show us how it was done, prior to either of us giving it a bash – literally. Apparently this is as tight a slip as we will see anywhere, so if we can reverse into this slip, we’re going to be well set up.

Here is Bernie and I happily looking out for crab pots while I helm on our first day sailing. Needless to say there are no photos of us doing close quarters manoeuvring we’re a little busy (read stressed).

Adrian was up the next day (our last day) to practice some manoeuvring as well, and we had a chance to ask some final questions. Not to be outdone by me, Adrian was this time allowed to reverse the boat into our slip, and did so like a champion. I have dubbed him the official reverse parker of the boat now. To be fair, a few days later I would have my own chance to reverse the boat in and would do so successfully.

Here we are after some successful docking practice. Successful meaning I managed to lasso the cleat on the dock by throwing the docking line over it from the boat while Adrian, driving the boat towards the dock, didn’t hit anything. Oh, and Bernie didn’t jump off the boat mid docking manoeuvre to say hi to everyone. Happy days.

So after completing the final systems check, both of us having helmed, docked and sailed the boat, we signed the paperwork and Away is officially our home. The next few days we spend working with Garcia on a few items that needed correcting (to be expected when building a new boat), fitting out the boat with our safety gear, moving our belongings around and around and around finding the best spots for things, and buying storage boxes – lots of storage boxes.

Again we didn’t think that would make interesting photos so here we are sailing again.

And we buy sheets and plates and storage boxes and towels and cookware and dog food and storage boxes and tools and glasses and baguettes and storage boxes and spices and a board for my magnets and hooks and storage boxes. Tiring stuff!

We also now have a book for the local area and the charts, so looking at the weather, we hope to be out exploring more of France next week or very soon thereafter. It will be excellent to get off the dock. The Fastnet race has been in town and Bernie INSISTS on jumping off and saying hello to every sailor that walks past. Horror for his introverted parents but he is having the best time. A lot of people also want to talk to us about Away and where we are from, if we like France and where we are planning to go. We feel quite popular, but it can get very busy.

Here are some nice photos of the interior and our first few days on the boat – hope you enjoy!

Going Away

June 28, 2021 / fiandadrian

We haven’t posted for a while as we have been feverishly getting ready to move to France. For those of you diligently keeping up with our travels, you hopefully remember that we are on the cusp of realising our 5 year dream of sailing the world on a sailboat. So, whilst we’ve been floating and driving around Australia over the last 18 months, progress on the new boat has continued. Most recent excitement is the logo and black wrapping around the hull. The black wrapping is a stick on plastic layer with a 5+ year lifespan.

“Away” is awaiting us, almost ready for us to live off the grid and sail the world. Here you can see the arch on the back of the boat, ready with solar panels. The electrics are currently being installed, and soon they will finalise the interior fit out, move the boat outside, and install the mast, rigging and sails.

We will arrive with enough time to see “Away” splashed in the water which we’re really excited about.

Here you can see the spare room for when you come and visit us! And we do want you to come visit us. This journey is as much for us to see the world, as it is for us to share it with our friends and family. We promise there will be a comfy mattress and pillows here for you when you come.

Bernie is coming with us too, and although he has no idea what is going on, we think he loves being with his pack, no matter what daft thing we’re doing.

We put a hot and cold running dog shower on the back of the boat for him so that when he gets back from running in the mud and salt water, he can look forward to a lovely warm wash on the stern. It also doubles as a nice outside shower for us which is an added bonus. It is in this picture, I’ll let you spot it.

We have enjoyed being back in latte sipping inner westie Sydney for a few weeks while we prepared to move, but are looking forward to cheese, wine, baguettes and the end of a northern hemisphere summer.

Bye Sydney! We are publishing this from Dubai having already crossed one of the most highly guarded borders on the planet. Our international flight left from Brisbane, Queensland requiring a short hop from Sydney. People from south of the border now get a police escort to the international terminal, although they don’t carry your luggage!

Kakadu, the final leg

June 9, 2021 / fiandadrian

Leaving Lake Argyle we were quickly across the border into the Northern Territory. After a convenient overnight free camp by the road we were on our way through Katherine to Nitmiluk National Park – specifically Edith Falls on the north side of the park. We had stopped here on the way south but it was closed due to excess water, excess crocs, or excess something.

We spent the night at the camp site at the falls, and were pretty excited to do the walk to a waterhole called “Sweetwater Pools” the following day. The walk was only a couple of hours so we enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, before heading off to enjoy the hottest hours of the day. Fresh buffalo (or massive cow) poop on the track indicated possible excitement although we didn’t find one to play with. After reaching Sweetwater Pools, we had a beautiful swim, and decided that we would swim in every other waterhole we had passed on the way up. We managed 3 freshwater dips in crystal clear water on the walk back from Sweetwater Pools, managing to stay wet for the entire trip back despite the best efforts of the midday sun.

With the number of days available to us dwindling, we had some unfinished business to attend to – Kakadu.

We had run away from Kakadu during the first week of our trip due to excess swarming masses of bugs, excess mosquitos the size of pterodactyls, and excess things being closed. The bugs and mosquitos hadn’t changed apparently, but most of the park was open now.

Our first stop in Kakadu was Maguk campsite conveniently located near another water fall. This sign is amusingly placed just before the path crosses the creek and heads up to the swimming hole.

We assumed yummier people had already passed this way so we would not become lunch today. The waterhole was reasonably easily accessed and we had a beautiful reintroduction to Kakadu in the warmest freshwater pool we had been in the whole trip. We could see the bottom many metres below us, and watched the fish check us out.

We had a few days planned here, and the lure of collecting and cooking bush tucker with a local guide was enough for us to sign up for the “Animal Tracks” tour located deeper within the park. Its been going for 20 years and still uses the same windowless troop carrier and dishevelled tour guide… We knew we were onto a winner. We picked up Patsy who had lived here all her life, and with her guidance we made baskets, dug for tubers, avoided buffalo, ate green ants (they taste lemon-y and are used as medicine), and turned leaves into string.

As the sun set over the wetlands, we cooked our dinner on the hot coals in a paperbark and eucalyptus oven. On the menu was fresh tubers we had foraged, wild buffalo, wild pig, and wild freshwater barramundi. Patsy warmed up to all of us and was delightful to spend time with. We watched the sun set, and the pterodactyls rise, and skedaddled off back to our camp, swerving to miss the 2m long olive pythons that like to warm up on the road at night soaking up the last warmth of the sun from the tarmac.

Our final night in this wild park was spent on a river cruise at Yellow water near our campsite. The pterodactyls don’t come out until after the sun has set (unlike in other places where they come out at dusk, or just stay all day) and so we felt safe to be out and about at this time. The cruise took us through the wetlands, and is primarily used to educate tourists on the fragility of the environment, and the uniqueness and importance of this park. It was wonderful to see the wetlands from this vantage point, and we were fortunate to see a lot of crocodiles! These are esturine (or salt water) crocodiles and are definitely a danger to humans, so we stayed safely within the boat.

A couple of days later, while relaxing by the pool at our hotel in Darwin, we were reminded of this magic sunset cruise. A tall, daringly tanned, rotund gentleman explained to his friends, rather too loudly, that Kakadu was not the place to see wildlife. We recalled the sunset cruise, and the moment we were surrounded by half a dozen salt water crocodiles a few metres away snapping at passing fish, jabirus (AKA black necked storks) sorting out squabbling geese whilst other wading birds watched on, sea eagles returning to their nest as wild pigs and buffalo crossed the wetlands. Hmm, no wildlife.

After 13000 km our outback trip was fading into another fiery Kakadu sunset. The rumble of the swag carrying V8 Land Cruisers had been diluted by the hum of soft roaders. The 4WD outback buses full of adventure seeking back packers had been replaced by luxury coaches spewing clean, perfumed, white shirts and sun hats on day trips from Darwin. Attentive tour guides rushed wheelchairs to those overcome by the few hundred metres stroll to todays instagramable shot.

We had for a moment become the red dirt gypsies seeking the road less travelled, shunning mass tourism and the trappings of a city life. Our dusty feet may eventually wash clean but it will take longer than we expect to slip back into our latte sipping inner city life and prepare for new adventures… Which are now not far Away.

More gorge gorging and less Ordinary rivers

June 6, 2021 / fiandadrian

By Fi

The time had come to exit Purnululu National Park, and continue our trip north. For the coming days, we would be exploring the gorges of El Questro as well as more of the Ord River Catchment area of Kununurra and Lake Argyle.

Pictured is out last sunset over the western side of the Purnululu National Park.

Heading in to El Questro, we were thrilled to drive through a bunch of water. Nothing so deep that said “you will need to have a snorkel on your car” but still enough for us to get a little bow wave going around the car, and wash the undercarriage (pictured is us going through this last wet section into the main accommodation areas).

Arriving in El Questro felt a little bit like getting on to a cruise ship for the first time. Check in Desk – “There is the bar, here are the tours, here is where you eat, and this is where you sleep – and these are the rules”.

The walks here are supposed to be epic, and we had passed a few spots on the way in. Checking with one of the staff, Adrian discovered that most likely the “El Questro Gorge walk” (instructions and map pictured) would be the most interesting and challenging walk for us to do, with some swimming and beautiful scenery thrown in.

El Questro planned, we headed off toward the gorge where we were warned “you will need a snorkel to get into the gorge carpark”. And yes, we did… Pictured is the view from my passenger side window of the water half way up the door.

El Questro gorge was worth every water crossing, crowded campsite and corrugated road. The walk was technical, beautiful and we were able to have the most luxurious swim at the top of the gorge in the crystal clear blue water of the water hole, fed by a cascading waterfall.

After the Gorge walk, we decided to also stop in and do another couple of hours walking at Emma Gorge. This was yet another spectacular gorge, with some beautiful swimming at the end. Possibly one of the most beautiful swimming holes we have been in (pictured).

Sufficiently gorged, we headed north towards a small remote camp site near Wyndham. Parry’s Creek is a conservation area, and supposed to be one of the most prolific bird spotting places in the area (we did see a lot of birds and would recommend to budding ornithologists).

We also took a quick detour to Wyndham so I could show Adrian the 5 rivers lookout (pictured) which is one of the most spectacular views in the area. You can see the rivers branching off the estuary here. In this instance, photos definitely speak louder than any words I could possibly write to describe the amazing views. I had been here 2 decades before, and remember it being a lot more brown, but in front of me the lush flood plains spread out to the horizon.

After a great nights sleep, we left the sweet spot of Parry’s camp, and drove to Kununurra. Kununurra is a place I had seen before, and I was excited to show Adrian Ivanhoe’s crossing, the Stone Art Gallery, the Hoochery (although, now that we aren’t drinking, we opted for the Sandalwood Factory instead) and Lake Kununurra (pictured).

We did some much needed resupplying and enjoyed a gluten free treat at the coffee shop. Kununurra is positively cosmopolitan compared to when I had spent time there previously. Pictured is Ivanhoe Crossing, a road connecting the outer parts of Wyndham and the outer parts of Kununurra. It is under water year round, and closed when the waters are really running during and just after the wet season. Estuarine crocodiles (salt water crocodiles) are known to frequent this area.

Kununurra was hosting the “Ord Valley Muster” and was therefore full of whip cracking, V8 driving, permanently tipsy people with very broad Australian accents. Being introverted, flat white sipping, inner west greenie types, we felt we might be taking up space for someone who would better enjoy the hive of activity. So, we stayed one night, then briefly marvelled at the prices of a small piece of sparkly pink rock (see Argyle Pink Diamonds in google if interested), and headed to Lake Argyle where we had booked a couple of evenings. Pictured is a fleeting moment of us being the only car at one of Kununurra’s attractions.

It was at this point we checked the date, and realised that the tourist season (AKA the dry season) was now in full swing, and that our days of quiet camping in secluded spots admiring the views were definitely over. Lake Argyle is a beautiful spot, and we took some time out to relax a little. We were planning some walks over the coming week across the border at Katherine Gorge and back to Kakadu. We felt that conserving some of our energy would serve us well to ensure we got the most out of our last week of touring. Plus we both got COVID jabs… More on that later.

Purnululu National Park

June 5, 2021 / fiandadrian

By Adrian & Fi

After our fun at Windjana and Tunnel Creek, we were keen to do some more walking and Purnululu promised some highly rated tracks. We traversed the 53km of dirt road to our campsite within the park in the late afternoon with the rock faces turning red under the setting sun.

Echidna Gorge was a perfect option for our first day in the park, as it had been recommended as a ‘must do’ and more importantly needed to be started later in the morning to get the best light. The vertical sides of the gorge only a few meters apart made a truely etherial place where one could wonder at the forces and time that made such place. It was easy to understand the signs asking for respect as if it was a cathedral. The inevitable child calling ‘coo-EEE’ was stunned into silence when Fi warned him he might wake the sleeping baby micro bats just ahead – perhaps the only respite the parents got that day.

Later, we entertained ourselves at the ‘Fawlty Towers’ visitor centre. When they returned from lunch they explained how the internet, which had not yet reached the centre, was the only way to book the nearby campsite. There was a guest wifi which was private and a pay phone that no longer made calls so they recommended the 4 hour return trip to the highway to get reception to make a booking.

The next day we were treated to more spectacular gorge walks at the northern end of the park. It was becoming clear that the walks were a small taste of the the park and we were being carefully guided around much of the more interesting and presumably sensitive terrain. The only way to see most of the park would be from the air.

I had overheard a tour guide talk about dawn at the southern and eastern side of the park where the famous bee hive rock formations are. We made the risky choice to drive, pre-coffee, to the southern end of the park where we enjoyed the early morning light whilst making breakfast.

After a good breakfast, we walked along the river bed a few km to Whip Snake Gorge which was largely deserted and tranquil. A large number of cane toads rotted alongside the path, Appian Way style, although we didn’t discover how they met their demise. On our return trip from Whip Snake Gorge, we met the tour groups thronging into the popular Cathedral Gorge, which was accessed via a small detour at the end of our much larger walk . It was indeed reminiscent of any European cathedral, full of a hundred well dressed quietly spoken camera snapping visitors. Not really our thing, we exited quietly and returned to the car park. Interestingly, we found out, Cathedral Gorge was used in the famous Qantas advertisement where they put the kids dressed in cleanly pressed white robes into famous landmarks to sing “Still call Australia home”. Apt.

Next stop was the airfield for our aerial adventure. Fi had experienced the helicopter flight some 20 years earlier, and that was enough of an excuse for me to get the front seat. As we had suspected, the vast majority of the park is off limits to the public. There looks to be some fantastic walking for the more adventurous with great access into the gorges along dry creek beds. However; I suspect if I was responsible for a land full of ancient paintings, tranquil gorges and sacred burial sites I would keep the coo-eee’s, the generators and the 4WDs to their own little corner.

Our longest stopover came to an end and we headed north for civilisation, vaccines, provisioning and a dose of nostalgia.

Gibbish River Road

June 1, 2021 / fiandadrian

By Adrian

On our last morning in Derby, we had resolved to avoid the Gibb River Road and stay on the tarmac. The always dependable tourist information centre had advised it was un-graded and miles of slow bumpy road that serious 4WDs would enjoy… Not quite our cup of tea. Before leaving Derby, we headed out to see the towns main attraction, an old run down pier, where we happened across another Apollo snail. They had just completed the Gibb which was ‘in good condition and well suited to the snail’. It was a good morning for a plan change… Gibb River Road here we go. We ducked into the tourist information to check out camping information and they confirmed the road was now in good condition…

As it turned out the mighty Gibb is a veritable highway of well graded dirt conveying a procession of caravan towing nomads and frustrated 4WD enthusiasts. Our first stop for the night was Mount Hart some 50km from the main road with creek crossings full enough to justify low range and kindle feelings of remote outback adventure. We knew we were in the real outback when the the camp host complained of a snake under her chair and a group of 4WD campers cut firewood at breakfast with a chainsaw. A short drive from the camp site a small gorge provided a cooling swim, an array of bird life, our favourite red dragonflies and the back half of a slithery friend.

From Mt Hart we headed to Manning Gorge, described as the highlight of the Gibb, by our fellow Apollo snail travellers. The walk to the gorge requires a short swim across a freezing croc infested river before trekking through fields of vibrant wild flowers and finally descending into the gorge. Nothing could have prepared us for the huge volume of water surging over the black rocks and into the large swimming holes. A small ledge behind the waterfall provided a welcome rest after the excitement of swimming through the cascading water. All walks in this region should be modelled on this one with a refreshing river crossing to finish.

The next morning, we realised that we hadn’t changed plan for several days. Having completed the ‘highlight’ of the Gibb experience we decided to change plan and turn back. Behind us was Mornington (wildlife refuge far enough off the highway to deter many), Tunnel Creek and Windjana Gorge. After discovering Mornington was closed we headed to Windjana Gorge camp ground and walked up the gorge the next morning. Here you are allowed to get your selfies with the crocs but not swim in their river.

Tunnel Creek is one of those rare adventures still allowed on the modern tourist track. We followed the hot rocky path to a fissure in the cliff where the creek disappeared into the cool darkness. Wading gave way to swimming through freezing water under the watchful eye of the resident croc (we didn’t spot him but someone pointed him out on the return trip). After 750m the creek emerges into a delightful tree lined pool and aboriginal paintings.

Refreshed we headed south towards tarmac and Fitzroy Crossing collecting a Boab nut on the way. The red mountain ranges of Gibb gave way to horizon to horizon flatness so vast that we could see the flatness of the earth. Mimbi Caves was our next stop. Mimbi, meaning caves in local language, had a delightful campsite with great sunsets. The ‘Caves Caves’ tour the next day took us through the passages inside the local hills, past some local art and described how the locals had lived here for 50 000 years.

Next stop was Purnululu national park (Bungle Bungle’s).

Sweeping up the coast via Broome

May 28, 2021 / fiandadrian

By Fi

We last left off exiting Karijini National Park due to the unfortunate rain. I was excited in a way as I seem to continue to gravitate towards the coast, and this is where we were headed again – to Broome via Eighty Mile Beach.

Our first stop would be on the beach. We found a conservation reserve called Cape Keraudren that had a campground perched on a cliff with stunning views of the coast. With mobile phone reception, we took some time out to catch up with family. Alas, we later paid dearly for this time on the phone, with hundreds of sandfly bites, so a quick walk the next morning was enough, and we headed off further up the beach. Here’s a shot of Adrian apparently pondering the salt water at Eighty Mile Beach.

Our next camp we were hopeful would be sans sandflies. It was pretty good! Port Smith Caravan Park touted a picture perfect lagoon, and we wandered down the road for a quick dip. The people running the place assured us there were no problems with crocodiles, and in this case, and given the yummier people who had gone before, we had a lovely dip in the shallows.

After our new mate the frill necked lizard had finished his breakfast of preying mantis the next day, we were off and headed to Broome. Broome was the place we were going to be able to stock up, get into the Apollo hire place for a few things we needed and hopefully enjoy cable beach. We sure did, we hired paddleboards and paddled out to sea, to play with the turtles off the beach.

It was afterwards our new friend at the paddleboard hire place mentioned that next month the crocodiles would be out there cruising up the coast. Right, I guess again we picked the right time to be on the coast – the previous time it was accidentally picking the perfect time to swim with whale sharks and manta rays.

Broome was also our kick off point for a beautiful weekend at Cape Leveque. Cape Leveque is just north of Broome on the peninsular, and we had chosen a wilderness camp called Kooljaman on the western side of the cape with stunning views over the Indian Ocean and some of the most beautiful sunsets we’ve been lucky enough to have.

We were able to enjoy swimming in their lagoon in warm tropical water without too much fear of crocs or stingers, and we also took some time out to complete a bushtucker tour of the area. I think we ate enough vitamin C that morning to keep us going for a year! The views were spectacular from our campsite and the place was just stunning with its white beaches, red cliffs and blue water.

We didn’t want to leave, but we had a tour booked at Derby, which involved going back to Broome (for more swimming at Cable Beach naturally – apparently with no photos on that day), then on to Derby.

We were picked up at our caravan park early (8AM is early…) and ferried out to the airfield. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but our pilot gave us a quick run through of the day. He would fly us out to the horizontal falls base where we would be greeted by the staff there, then taken for our boat tour of the falls. He would then pick us up and fly us low over the coast depositing us back mid afternoon.

Sounds simple enough. We flew out out over Derby and north-ish to the falls. The falls came into sight briefly, before our water landing near the houseboats. It was a really great setup there, morning teas before being ferried onto the fast boat for a leisurely cruise down “Cyclone Creek” named aptly as it is used as a cyclone bolt hole for boats, particularly their houseboats in the offseason. The water was absolutely pumping into the creek, and our skipper switched off the engines and let us float a few hundred metres down the creek through the narrow S bends.

Later is was time to visit the “Horizontal Falls” named as they appear like waterfalls. The tide rips through the two small openings so hard, that at the smallest part, the difference in height between the water on either side can be up to 4 metres. At 1.5 metres difference, the boat can take us through on a fast ride and drop through the cliff faces – much like a rollercoaster – so that was fun!

The scenery is special, and we were fed a beautiful barramundi lunch while appreciating this stunning area. Not content with just one trip through the falls, our skipper got us back on the boat for another fast ride through the second lot of falls, before we were put back on our plane for the 40 minute trip back into Derby. Pretty impressive operation there, we learned they have 32 flights in there a day, as well as overnight stays available, and to keep that many people going through the place, all fed and happy with their experience is pretty impressive.

Adrian and I however, were happy to ferry ourselves the next day, out of Derby (via a quick stop to look at the mud) and back into the dirt – on to the Gibb River Road.

The Pilbara

May 20, 2021 / fiandadrian

By Fi & Adrian

We had hoped to go for a microlight flight on our last day at the reef, but the weather conspired against us and we used to time to head inland towards the Karijini national park. We picked a suitable station stay a short distance from the park and arrived for sunset.

The next day we topped up the fuel and tourist information at Tom Price before heading to Hamersley Gorge.

A short steep walk into the gorge was rewarded by a cool swim and a massage under the waterfall.

We returned to a free campsite next to a dry riverbed that we had scoped out in the morning. But now the road in was blocked by 2 cones. Following the mantra of always leaving the camp site as it was when you arrived, we carefully replaced the cones across the road and found our quiet spot beside the river.

The next day we set off up Mt Bruce that is well known as West Australia’s second highest mountain (hill). A four hour round trip took us to the summit and back, with a few steep sections to negotiate along the way.

The Mt Bruce walk has fantastic views all the way to the top. On one side the mountains of red rock dotted with green spinifex and on the other a large iron ore mine with mega trucks and mile long trains.

We stayed within the national park at Dales campground, ducking into the gorge for a much needed swim after the days exertions. Small fish removed any excess skin on our feet and the waterfall provided our massage.

Unusually it rained overnight with the campground waterlogged in the morning. The tent people had mostly left by the time we crawled out of the snail.

Before heading out for our gorge exploration we checked at the nearby visitor centre in case the water levels were dangerous in the gorges. It turned out that the rocks in the park are so treacherous to the unwary tourist that all gorges and even Mt Bruce were closed.

Time for a plan change…we headed north to the coast.