Broome to Port Hedland

South of Broome the coastline is flanked by private farmland. Barnhill Station offers camping sites close to a long stretch of beach. We get a glimpse of the 600km of coastline stretching down to Port Headland. There aren’t many roads in, but the beaches are sandy and calm.We setup for the night and explored the beach.

At sunset we spotted numerous turtles sticking their heads up as they swam by. I picked up an open shell with a couple of fledgling pearls clinging to the hollow. This region once supplied much of the world’s pearl shell with cultured pearl farms now producing the finest pearls.

Leaving Broome the Prado began to lose electrical circuits. First the indicators, then Air conditioning, Speedo and fuel gauge. Fuses were blowing. Hmmm…not good.

Our next overnight stop was 80 mile beach. Fishermen drive up the beach looking for Threadfin Salmon. The wind had started to blow from the East. As Geelong began to lose their quarter final match against the Dockers the wind got stronger and stronger. Gary Abblett wasn’t happy. The canvas walls became sails on the Sydney to Hobart as the winds reached 40 knots. It made for a wild night on the high sea.

Driving further the next day without the electrics proved to be a minor inconvenience until we ground to a halt. No fuel. In fact we had plenty in the second fuel tank but couldn’t switch over. As we attempted to syphon the fuel with an inadequate length of hose, fellow travellers pulled up and offered their spare diesel. As much as I enjoy sucking petrochemicals into my mouth, a jerry can was a much more civilised option. 

Back on the road we rolled past the mine sites and salt piles into Port Hedland. 

Up here, Caravan parks have become mine compounds with shift workers coming and going in utes wearing flouro yellow. Our patch of dirt overlooks the railway line of South Hedland through a barbed wire fence. Geriatric caravans have become long term homes for those here to grab earn some quick bucks then make a hasty exit. The van park staff are grumpy turds. She is as rough as iron ore old Hedland.

After exhausting my car fixing abilities with broken battery wires, solenoids and bash plate under the car, I called a local mechanic whose brother had offered me some fuses at one of our stops. Tim set to work looking for the short circuit and soon enough discovered a mess of burnt out wiring down the side of the car. At one point we were dropping the 50L tank down to reach a fuel pump and then replacing all the wires to the back of the vehicle. Tim’s skill was evident in the diagnosis and the slow repair work. People could go bankrupt breaking down in this town and this repair isn’t cheap but I still feel we are being looked after. I believe in a God who cares about breakdowns.

Despite our modest surrounds Lissa has managed to get stuck into some school work and Eva is playing with some odds and ends salvaged from a nearby skip bin. After 3 nights in Hedland we are back in business and ready to hit Karijini NP. What better way to celebrate than a bag full of frozen meat pies from our neighbour. Kael helped him punch the code in to enter the bathroom and next thing we know he is back bearing gifts. He seems to have a secret supply of pies and also fruit. The pies were welcome but the bananas were like mother’s milk. Another bloke called me over to help myself to his ute load of chips. 

I take it all back. This place is the promised land, even if the chips are out of date.

Windjana to Cape Leveque

Most of the action on the Gibb seems to be on the western end of the track. The road is also much better leading from Derby to the West Kimberley gorges one of which is Windjana. Geologists must not be able sleep as they contemplate these formations, billions of years in the makings. As for me, I sleep like a fossil with these hot days and cool nights.

Walking into Windjana Gorge we encountered a Mulga Snake. It dropped down from a tree as Lissa and Naomi walked past. 2 metres of scales and fangs. Happy Birthday Lissssssssa!

Lissa’s birthday has arrived and after 12 years of marriage I know the perfect spot for someone who doesn’t like confined spaces, walking through dirty water or the dark. Tunnel creek is a remnant from an ancient coral reef which cuts its way 750m through the rocky range. After breakfast and a few little presents we waded our way through the cold water through the cave past stalactites and bats.

After a questionable birthday activity I pulled out the big guns, crunchy potato chips that I had stashed under my seat. All is forgiven. Then the cider, lamb curry and campfire naan. There were 12 baskets leftover so we were able to feed the French backpackers who shared our fire. Dessert naan with butter and spiced apple jam was as close as we got to a birthday cake.

It was 5 days of open fire cooking before we were able to refill our empty gas bottle. Then on the first use, the gas hose broke sending us back to the stone age for another 6 days. I’ve come to appreciate the simplicity of a wood fire cooking. Without all the mining, refining and transport of fossil fuels, it may just be better for the environment.

Finding our way back on the sealed road we headed in the direction of civilisation: destination Derby. This place has a most uncivilised landmark: The Boab Prison Tree used to hold the convicts being walked to Derby for sentencing. 

Lunch at the Jetty and a quick shop were a sufficient tour of old Derby town as we have bigger fish to fry. After 1200km of dirt exploring the Kimberley the novel combination of grass, a pool, power and free washing machines made us feel like royalty at the Willare Bridge Roadhouse. From here only 150km of sand separates us from the coastline north of Broome. Darwin allowed us to admire the ocean but soon enough we get to feel it. Middle Lagoon is the scene for such a reunion where whales breach the water and the sun sets over the ocean. There is an afternoon sea breeze as we setup under some trees. It’s quite a treat to hear the ocean from our tent and the water is warmer than Manly in the summertime. It’s like our own version of Home and Away: living in a caravan park, school at Summer Bay High, hanging out at the beach after school. No sign of Alf Stewart though.

Travelling down the coast opens the door to some salt water fishing action. The sight of a bent rod and a man holding up a big Queenfish drew me down to the rocks. It was the only fish caught and my only contribution was helping the young fisho from the water after he dived in to retrieve his rod which was heading west hooked to a large fish.

One Arm Point extends out from the peninsula into King Sound. The small Aboriginal community here offers visitors access to the beautiful sandy beaches and rocks overlooking the crystal sea. The setting is idyllic, the picture of a tropical paradise. 

I can imagine a life here catching fish and eating coconuts with a bit of work every now and then. One local industry is harvesting and polishing shells for ornaments, jewellery and supplying the cosmetics and paint industries. A tour of the workshop is also a chance to get up close to coral, green turtles and barramundi raised in big pools.

Lissa loves fresh coconut. She has been feasting on the white flesh and drinking coconut water for breakfast each day since I grabbed a few green ones from a tree nearby. Splitting them is second nature for me, I’ve watched my fair share of Survivor.

The road from Broome has been sealed for 150km but only after 90km of sandy ruts and holes. Someone was telling me that this ensures that the communities on the Beagle Penninsula are classified as remote. It has the added benefit if keeping the traffic to a minimum.

A few nights in Broome have been a little pricey but definitely relaxing. Some parts of the trip feel like relentless travel grinding together with chores and school work. Swimming has been a constant companion for 2 months now and the results are starting to show. We all have tan lines. My legs resemble Top Deck Chocolate. Kael returns to the tent squinting from hours of Chlorine, Naomi dives and swims like a penguin. Today however, belonged to Eva. Months of bobbing around under waterfalls with arm floats were mere preparation for the new dawn of dog paddle minus the floats. First 2 metres, then 5, then 10, grinning the whole time and begging for another turn. It’s a big step for a little girl and she was feeling powerful and proud. 

We will need to be in the water with the Beave from now on.

The attractiveness of Broome is understandable. There is the natural beauty you’d expect and the freakishly good winter climate. Those with their pockets full can fly, float and fish all day returning to their luxurious digs and fine dining. Our itinerary included sunset at Cable Beach and hunting for dinosaur footprints on low tide at Gantheaume Point.

With Lissa taking on schooling supervision, I have become the tuck shop lady. One lady commented to me as we washed up side by side “A woman’s work is never done”.

I don’t usually give financial advice but I would be selfish not to pass this on. Chickpeas. Invest in Chickpeas. We have been chomping through a can a day since I have taken on cooking responsibilities. They are set to soar in value any day now. Get in on it.

It appears we have a budding comedian in the family. Eva informed that she can say “Uno” in French. She then proceeds to say “Uno” with a slight European accent. Champagne! 

Kids Diary Entries

Naomi 

Kael

Naomi

Kael

Kael

Kael

Naomi

Naomi

Kael

Gibb River Road Days 73 to 79

One of the big ticket items on our itinerary is the Kimberley Range stretching from Kununurra to Derby. The Gibb River road is long and dusty keeping plenty away, but the lure of the mountainous attractions makes it a beaten track.




First stop on the 660km journey is El Questro Station, one of many cattle Stations which have branched out into tourism. The road is currently being sealed which will see El Questro grow into an even larger operation. Camping sites are by the Pentecost River but the main focus is helicopter, boat and 4wd tours. Kids are everywhere. Close by a family with 4 children connect straight away and we are off to the river for a swim. 

The Station has a number of gorge walks and a boat ride up the massive Chamberlain Gorge. We opt for El Questro Gorge which proves to be beautifully lined with palms and swimming spots. 

Not to be outdone, Zebedee Springs is set amongst tall palms with dozens of rock pools at a temperature of 32 degrees.

El Questro boasts about featuring in the greatest movie ever made: Australia. It is also the setting for an equally forgettable event;  My birthday. Lissa arranged a celebration worthy of Hugh Jackman himself with decorations, presents, coffee, hot springs, book reading time and even a birthday cake. Picture a giant pancake stack with layers of cherry jam and whipped cream. Possibly the greatest cake ever made. Unwrapping CD’s from the greatest band ever: Midnight Oil and a genuine pair of the greatest footwear ever made: Crocs. This could be a contender for the best day of my life if not the greatest day ever blogged.

Crossing the Pentecost River turned out to be rather straight forward on our way to Home Valley, another touristy Cattle Station. 

The road however, proved to be rougher than a dingoes elbow skin. As the car shook like Christchurch, I wondered at the wisdom of continuing the next 600km. We had heard stories of blown tyres and had seen a few campers limp in after dark with shock absorbers hanging behind. Further along is an abandoned Toyota Ute. Or is it a spare parts shop?

Manning Gorge is one of the more well-known destinations. The falls and campsite are privately owned by the indigenous landholders. Camping on one side of the river means that you need to float your supplies across the water at the beginning of the hike. It is a surprisingly challenging 2km walk through exposed sparse woodland and through ravines with a final decent to the water. The gorge itself is very open with a wide waterfall and pool. Even Eva who hates going under the water attempted a rock jump into the water. Lissa showed a dare devil side that has been dormant for the past 12 years. Naomi followed her brother off the 5 metre platform without hesitation.

Galvans Gorge proved to be another little gem.











One of the aces up our sleeve as we travel is flexibility. We are yet to make a booking anywhere and plenty of times we are glad we didn’t. Nothing worse than being stuck somewhere you don’t want to be. Mornington Wilderness Reserve is 90km south of the GRR. It is the 2^nd largest non-government wilderness area in Australia. Having eradicated the feral herbivores they report great success in restoring populations of native mammals and birds. 

Our 3 night stay allowed us to canoe the Dimond Gorge. The faraway five all crammed in a 3 man canoe and set off down the river. There was no margin for skylarking in the overloaded vessel but the water was dead calm. With rock walls rise up either side the river has attracted proposals for a Dam as recently as 1990. 

This is the dry season, but there is plenty of water if you know where to look. A highlight proved to be bobbing down the rapids in our lifejackets. Lissa spotted a rare Short eared rock Wallaby high on the cliff. 

Camping by a stream there are birds everywhere. Bird watchers flock to the park to see a Gouldian Finch. These little creatures eluded Kael, however we did spot a number of new birds including cute little quails and the largest flying bird in Australia, the Bustard. This snobbish bird casually walks away with its beak high and is reported to taste like turkey. 

Speed is limited to 40km on the road which seems to be precisely 1km/hr less that the speed of the tiny Diamond Doves that scatter on afternoon drives.

Termites much grass outside as I write. You can actually hear them. The termite mounds are bulbous and tumour-like in these parts. It’s too hot to care what shape of castle you are building and after 50 years of construction, it’s easy to lose the architects original vision. An afternoon stroll and swim at Bell’s Gorge was enough work for us after setting up camp. Each gorge is different and you can’t help but compare. Bell’s is one of the best. 

First glimpse is from the top of the falls. The water falls down the centre of a U-shaped gorge and continues to flow through pools and narrowings. Swimming and lounging on the smooth rock terraces takes place below. 

All around the clear water has the barren, rocky appearance characteristic of the Kimberley. It makes the gorges appear even more extraordinary. You’ve got to be tough to survive the months without rain. Boab trees have their strategy and clumps of spinifex become like a dry pin cushion waiting for the wet.

After seeing a few gorges it has become clear that the naming landforms adheres to strict regulations. A river goes to bed dreaming of becoming a gorge just as a tuft of grass dreams of becoming a clump. The gorge aspires to the glory of being known as a canyon like a caravan park dreams of being a resort.

Kael has been getting some private AFL coaching from a bloke here at Bells. This bloke knows his footy and looks fit. Who knows, he might just be a former AFL player mixing with the punters.