Our first day ashore was immensely successful. Having eaten our breakfast to the calming sounds of the indigenous Karma radio station based in Alice Springs we sped the long distance from Zoonie to the Sailing Club Ramp thinking we might find someone there, but there was no sign of life. We had made contact with Kylie who runs the club with her teacher hubby Brad. She confirmed that she would keep the package containing Bron’s memory stick of the Australian Charts until we arrived.
So we then took our rubber ducky, as we’ve heard it called around here, across to the old town jetty where once the trading ships used to tie up before the new one was built. Leaving ‘Ducky’ tied to some landing steps and drifting away from the barnacle encrusted legs of the jetty we made our way in to town and Andrew in the Tourist Information Office. He confirmed he could print out the charts from the stick on to A4 then the Post Office could enlarge them.
He sent us to find Kylie who he said owned and worked in the sports shop. Well she no longer did, so the good folk in there sent us to the Post Office because Irene who works in the PO also caters for over 100 by herself at the Sailing Club on a Wednesday and Friday nights. Well we knew that already from the sign but clearly it’s not what you know but who you know around here!
Irene is one of those turned on humorous types and she quickly found our package awaiting us and I bought a birthday card for Emily and wrote and sent it there. Irene’s also advised they could do A4 – A3 enlargements but not from a memory stick, we would have to email the charts to her.
So it was back to Andrew with the news and to confirm he would be around the next day. At the garage the nice chap advised us if we turned up at 4.45pm and filled the cans with 80 litres of diesel he would run us back to the ‘Ducky’ as there were no taxis in Ceduna. Imagine that no need for taxis.
In the Ceduna Bakery and Coffee Shop we drank delicious iced coffee and shared a slice of carrot cake to help us take stock so far.
We had been in ‘Messenger’ contact with Hannes and he confirmed he would be arriving late the next day, travelling from the west across the Nullabor Ranges at 700 – 750 kms per day.
Next stop, Foodfare which was well stocked with all our minimal needs, then back to our ‘Ducky’ for a long and drenching trip back to Zoonie. The rest of that busy day was spent writing the Strahan Blogs and getting in touch with friends. In the evening we started watching Handmaids Tale after loading Bron’s charts on to our Open CPN charts on the computer and selecting 7 which would be of immediate use to us and copying them onto a memory stick ready for Andrew the next day.
Kylie gave us a lift to the fuel station which was great and we arranged to meet for breakfast in the Community Foreshore Hotel/Motel opposite the old jetty the next morning.
It wasn’t in the TI Office but Nancy, who tried hard and failed to send the charts to the printer either direct from the stick or via Bluetooth or email. She said they were not allowed to plug the memory stick directly in to the printer because the computers had been messed up by a virus and they didn’t want to go through all that palaver again. “Go to the Red Cross, they can do it for you, there is nothing they cannot do along these lines.”
We had hoped to get ashore to the Club that evening where Irene had promised to cook us a meal we wouldn’t forget but the daily afternoon breeze was still strong and the distance put us off.
It calmed down after the sun went down and the next morning the water was flat, so we moved Zoonie in to a spot just off the pier and anchored where you will also see a three master moored in the photo I will put in a future blog, now that I am writing this half way across the Bight.
The water was generously deep over a triangular shape from the end of the jetty as it appeared marked on the chartplotter I believed to have been dredged back in the days when it was the main loading jetty for the exports of grain, salt, fish and gypsum and so is still deeper than the surrounds. If it was good enough for the old traders it was good enough for Zoonie I reckoned.
Two lovely hours were spent chatting with Kylie and Brad and Kylie’s mum, Val who up until her husband died had a 46 foot Roberts Ketch. Val came armed with a laminated chart of the local area and told about all the best anchorages to enjoy, that she once frequented with her late husband. We didn’t have the heart to tell her that when we leave we would not linger in the local waters as we were passage making. As usual we could spend a year in this idyllic spot, exploring.
It was a hot sunny walk to Pinky Point, energised by our ample breakfast and the views were beautiful. I had to keep stopping to take them in and gather my breath.
Just before the end lookout there was a new shaded picnic area complete, as they all are, with a fresh water tap. Bliss, sitting in the shade, the lightest breeze drying our damp areas with water from the tap cooling my face.
Onwards to the lookout and we saw our ship the Darling River finally tied up and taking on her load of gypsum, delivered twice daily in up to 63 truck-loads on the train. Rob counted them for me.
So what now could be more perfect than a pub selling nice cold water and beer on the way back to Ducky on the beach?
Adam’s Ale then a decent beer.
The West End Pub on Thevenard was tended by a gentleman who has spent 40 years lounging on the west coast of Aussie but is now back home where the family can “sort me out”. We had walked past numerous closed premises including one Greek, art nouveau style corner shop. The beer rolled coolly down our throats as he told us of the once thriving, largely Greek, fishing community, complete with its Greek Café culture that used to enliven the area. “But the government changed all that and their way of life and skills brought from their Greek island homes all died.” I wasn’t quite sure what he meant, maybe the development of the new port made it difficult for the fishing industry to use the area.
Three guys were busy betting on horses, dogs and traps while we were there and said “Gday” as we passed back out into the stultifying heat. The walk back past the pretty gardens of the few remaining residents seemed much faster than our outward journey and we detoured onto the beach, paddling our way through warm water on soft sand.
Local aboriginal children were jumping off the jetty, some waved as we motored by. The uninhibited younger generation was happy to make verbal and eye contact with us, more so than the generally reserved elders. Matthew Flinders found the same. If an intentional attempt was made by him or his men to communicate with the first Australians they would vanish, but if they completely ignored the natives then eventually curiosity would overcome them and that is how he learned to make the initial contact.
With Hannes at the Heart of Ceduna
Ceduna has a welcoming atmosphere and is made up of a multicultural population of around 3,500 and we were heading to the Community Foreshore Hotel/Motel once again to have dinner with Hannes who had arrived with a healthy appetite after a 700 km drive across the Nullabor Plains. I really liked the Foreshore Pub; it is open from early in the morning till late and has a passing trade of business and leisure clients but also is a reasonably priced venue for the locals to eat out as well. Aborigines were free to come and go and treated like everyone else, although they are restricted to low alcohol beer for their own sakes.
There were no other yachties there at the time, although Hannes did say he wished Cayenne was moored out there near Zoonie. The last time we were moored together was in 2018 in Minerva Reef with Birgit and Andreas on the red hulled steel Muktuk, if you remember. We had a fun evening sharing stories of our exploits over the last couple of years.
The next morning I was standing in the cockpit soaking up the beautiful blue around me and waiting for Hannes to come down the jetty and for Rob to collect him for breakfast on board. I was also looking forward to being out there again and crossing the Great Australian Bight.
The cork popped out of the bottle of Prosecco as we shared a long luxurious, no time pressure breakfast. I remember it was a very hot day and when we went ashore Hannes was struggling with sore knees as he slowly recovers from the Brahman River virus he contracted in Eastern Australia last year. Cortisone tablets are helping with the painful swelling around his joints.
Hannes and Sabine purchased their vehicle when they first came to Australia and promptly bought a roof top tent for it which has served as a comfortable ‘penthouse’ sleeping quarters ever since. So sensible, off the ground and away from snakes, creepy crawlies and damp.
We walked along to the Indigenous Arts and Cultural Centre where Rob and I bought an acrylic painting of fish and a seahorse done in the dot style. The young lady who carefully wrapped it for us said her mother had painted it. Hannes told me the pointillist Seurat style used by the aborigines has only been adopted in the last two hundred years. I wondered if the early French visitors had brought it?
Next at the Ceduna Bakery and Coffee Shop Hannes approved of the coffee and we chatted some more, making the most of our time with him. We separated after the coffee, Hannes off to do some chores and Rob and I headed for The Red Cross Office where Carmen worked on the charts, eventually printing them off straight onto A3 paper as PDF files. First Australians use the centre as a social hub and a little girl gleefully popped the buble wrap around my painting just for the fun of it. Carmen did not want anything for her completed task but we gave her a note anyway.
We had two more light evening meals with Hannes, with new topics to cover and stories to tell each time, before saying our farewells and after hugs we made our way the short distance back to Zoons in a howling wind. At least this time we had remembered to leave Zoonie with her anchor light on and an interior light to guide us through the dark. I wonder when and where we will meet up with Hannes and Sabine again.