We were off early heading north, eleven of us out of the 18 originally booked and Wokka, our driver, all quietly knowing that with the four square metres distancing rule we should not be there at all; but the local organisers had not received the command to cancel, so we were hopeful that as we were effectively isolating ourselves to an area of country populated at the rate of 1 person per square kilometre we might just get away with a few days at least. Things were changing by the hour and at least in our rugged bus we had the means of return.
The Pinnacles are 32,000 human height limestone rocks and scientists are not certain how they were formed. There are two theories and they could both be partly true. Like derelict cities and wrecked ships in the Sahara they cover and uncover depending on the movement of the massive sand dunes. The colour of the sand around the mini monsters is like Birds Custard while the seashore sand is, well, sand coloured.
We arrived at Jurien Bay for lunch and by this time were well on the way to gelling as a group. Wraps filled with salad, hummus, falafels and cold meats were prepared and devoured with equal enthusiasm. This was where we were supposed to be flying down the dunes, filling our clothes and orifices with gritty sand but Wokka had no grease for the boards so we climbed back onto the coach to head for the pink lake at Lynton.
All the youngsters, including us two keenagers, were from Europe and they started to receive confirmations that flights booked for April were being cancelled; their plans unlike their flights were being thrown up in the air. One of the two Mels had successfully booked hers only the day before but now just hours later her flight was grounded. The mood of excitement over the long anticipated trip was tempered by the rapidly changing situation; borders were starting to close between countries abroad and states here.
Hannah on her fourth trip to Aussie was determined to swim with whale sharks. Tom from France and Carmel from Belgium chatted away in French as we sped along, when Tom was not fast asleep that is.
The distant house in the photo is now a B&B and has a history of interest to the older ones of you who have heard of the films and musicals entitled “The King and I”. Anna Leonowens was the ‘I’ and lived there with her military husband and four children, but this was before her position with the King. Later when they had moved to Singapore and then on to Penang her husband and two of her children died. She sent one of her other children, a daughter to England for an education while her son stayed with her and she became the governess to the King of Siam’s children for five years. The book ‘Anna and the King’, from which the story was taken was written by Margaret Landon. Later in life Anna travelled much, living in New York, Canada and Europe and pursued careers in journalism, writing and embarked on lecture tours to earn a living and latterly became a part of the suffragist movement. Busy, intelligent lady.
The pink lake near her home, otherwise called the Hutt Lagoon, was very long and quite pink. The colour comes from the algae that lives there, Dunalliela Salina which is a source of Beta-carotene used as colouring in the food industry, consequently the lake is home to the world’s largest micro-algae farm.
Carmel got some fine film using her drone, a tiny model but with a good quality lens, the best of both worlds if you’re a young traveller. She’s the one with the scarf around her high pony tail.
Next stop on our first day was Bluff Point Lookout with its elevated views over the Indian Ocean and the beautiful red, horizontal strata of the rocks. This invigorated the youngsters who posed on high rocks with the wind off the ocean blowing theirs worries away just briefly.
By now after hours on the road we were in the tropics and that evening the breeze that blew through the barbecue area at the hostel was very welcome. All hands to the pumps, or knives at least, Kasia, an aeronautical engineer turning her giant coleslaw salad.
Replete with good fresh food, Wokka decided it was time for a socialising game; it wasn’t necessary but it was fun. It had five rounds. The first where each person gave their name. The second we told of a household chore we hate. The third we gave the reason for hating it. We had all said the first three rounds before Wokka explained the fourth round where we substituted the chore for the words “I hate sex”, then we added the reason already stated. The fifth we repeated our names and said where we came from. Mine went something like this.
My name is Barb, I hate dusting, (I go to great lengths to avoid it including using a well wrung out sponge so it won’t need doing again for a while and painting shelves dust colour so it wouldn’t show anyway) because as soon as it is done it needs to be done again. I hate sex because as soon as it’s done it needs to be done again. Etc
Rob’s seminal sentences went “I hate hoovering because there is always something better to do. I hate sex because there is always something better to do!!!!!!!” The exclamation marks are mine.
We spent a comfy first night both of us sharing a dorm with quiet and charming Rafael from the Dolomites in Italy, Tom and Carmel and prepared for an early start, heading for Murchison Gorge where the river of the same name flows down the meeting place of two tectonic plates in the Kalbarri National Park.
Red, puffy eyes of broken plans and lost flights calmed as we moved towards our next mini adventure. Wokka hadn’t brought us any negative news yet so we were free to enjoy the moment. It was hot and getting hotter and the flies were a pain, but at least they didn’t bite; instead competed on our lips for each gulp of water and sought out the moisture around our eyes and up our noses.
The climb down to the Murchison river bank was a wonderful scramble over rocks, through natural rock alleys and down ladders before we relaxed by the green river. It reminded me of a small scale Grand Canyon and the climb up was just as invigorating. The photo of the red wall with darker streaks is where we were supposed to abseil but the organiser of that was self isolating after contact with an infected person. A short drive further and a short walk to the elevated lookout where we posed at the window and looked over the bend in the river and the sandy beach.
Our itinary included a loop walk around the green area in the photo back to the beach for a swim; but the path was closed so we wandered back to the coach hoping that Wokka had been able to book us onto our chosen tours, which were swimming with whale sharks, another with manta rays and our choice the glass bottomed boat where we could snorkel along behind.
Heading for the shade of a rest area Wokka walked over and gave us the thumbs up. Spirits rose, not only was the trip continuing but we would soon be snorkelling again.
Wokka drove forward a little then stopped and was looking at his phone, “We might have to turn back, so we’ll go back to the hostel and get lunch first.”
We chatted with the retired headmistress who owned the hostel with her husband; she was supportive and caring. As we finished our meal Wokka came across from the settee area, “It’s over, we head back when you’re ready, should take about six hours with breaks.” It was a kind of relief because the uncertainty was over and we could all start to plan our next moves. Some of our young friends would bunker down in a house share and others would go to the airport on the off chance. Ticket prices were sky rocketing with the single flights from $2400 to $12,200 back to Europe from the 23rd March to the 24th. Tom planned to sleep in a park and was reluctant to fly home. His father had disowned him after he failed his maths exam at university and decided to take a year out, but as a last resort he thought his mum would send him the money. All his savings had gone on flights, accommodation and tours, he had a lot to cope with and I knew how it felt to be disowned by ones father.
The sun was still high as we started off, passing numerous white crosses and bleached piles of roo bones, the product of roadkill, I wondered if the crosses and bones were linked, collisions in the dusk when these animals, so symbolic of Australia are active. The dramatic natural palette colour of red ochre roadside, green plant growth and blue sky with its pure white bulbous clouds was a treat to the eye and with our inevitable confinement coming up I tried to soak it up.
Our progress south was matched with news of plans as they were being made using mobile phones. Mercifully Perth YHA had plenty of space for anyone who wanted it and we could look forward to an ensuite double, but the $29 was too much for Tom, a park bench it would be. I just hoped he would be safe.
The sun was getting lower and its heat less intense. The coach air-con did not always work and Wokka had to contend with pleas from the girls to make it cooler. Two stops gave us some relief but on the last stretch I worried that a roo would lope across infront of us on its silflay, the name given to the rabbits evening sortie for food in Watership Down by Richard Adams, written in 1972 and one of my favourite nouns.
Soon we were back in Perth and the local tour organiser came onto the coach to get us to sign an agreement that the tour had ended at midday and then offended our young friends by saying he had possibly lost a house he was hoping to buy and he would lose his job while we had ‘only’ lost a holiday. I was glad to have the opportunity, when he phoned us later to check on our health and we were back on board, to explain that his comment was offensive as much more than just his tour was terminated for them. What is more they weren’t going home like him and their future safety and security was up in the air. I had little doubt they would work it out somehow but to hear such un-empathetic words when they were already tired and worried seemed callous and thoughtless.
Against the rules we all met up in the youth hostel for a final meal together and Rob and I offered what encouragement we could.
We had booked the train to East Perth station the next morning to connect with the coach for Kojonup where we would pick up ‘The Falcon’, (Ford Falcon) kindly on loan to us again so we would do the last stage back to Zoonie under our own steam. But would public transport be running as normal?
Fortunately the links worked and as we settled onto the coach the pristine Irish driver came to a safe distance from us and said “Please make it a short trip to the facilities at the back, we all like a nice trip and I’m not a plumber,” and “While you’re making your way there hang on and you’ll survive my driving.” “The water on board is vile, drink your own and you’ll live, there are levers at the sides of your seats and back you go,” and finally and reassuringly, “The damage at the back of the coach was not my doing!”
I love some of these Aussie names. On our long journey home we came across Krak a Tinny Station, turned briefly onto Wannaroo Road (no thanks I wouldn’t know what to do with it) and my favourite under the circumstances, Chinnup.
Our capable coach driver then had a testing time; two passengers needed a different destination to ours, so he had to arrange for a coach to take them back, and he turned onto a narrow road only to find it closed off without any prior sign. Rob volunteered his help with the reversing with a gentle push from me, but after that it was plain sailing and were we glad to see Zoonie’s homely hull once again. The Falcon has landed.
In Isolation at Emu Point
I am so pleased to report with enormous relief that the new raw water pump for the engine has just arrived. This has been so important to us in the light of the present clamp down on unnecessary journeys leading us to worry that maybe it would be months rather than days. Once Rob has fitted it and checked the exhaust elbow for wear and changed the alternator belt then Zoonie will be shipshape once more and we know our eventual exit is assured. Border Control has told us there should be no problem clearing out of Carnarvon at the end of September, but we know we may be excluded from putting in anywhere on the way home. That is the worst possible scenario, but it is do-able. Non-stop to UK.
Our flights have been cancelled and the funds banked for use or refund at some future date but we are unsure. Fortunately our families accept the situation and suggest we stay put for the duration and we would be reluctant to return home at the moment anyway in case we could not get back to Zoonie.
One of our young friends has made it back to Germany and we hope to hear from others too. For all of April and May there will be no Qantas or Virgin International flights so here we are in this beautiful spot with the southern winter rapidly approaching. Some folk are still working on their boats and as you can see from the photos there are the usual labours of love, beautiful old wooden hulls from a different age looking toward a new lease of life.
The sleek blue motor boat just setting off from the boat yard is the Royal Sovereign; a beautifully restored Admirals launch which was used as a troop carrier at Gallipoli, so she’s well over a century old. She shot out of the lifting area so fast John from the yard said “Jet propelled is she!”
The pretty sloop next to Zoons is no longer there. Her owner, a young plumber who works at a bauxite mine during the week, bought her for $12000 (£6000) because she had osmosis, which he has since sorted out. His girlfriend suffered from morning sickness so badly she had to stop sailing for a while, so he has taken the boat back up to Fremantle where they live, to await the happy event.
The picture after the blue launch looks like an accident but if you look closely you will see a manta ray down there and although schools are no longer using the offshore swimming pool, individuals including us yesterday use it daily for their exercise.
We gave in to temptation at the Emu Point Café before we left for Perth. It has a good reputation for fine food and as you can see the cakes and iced coffees are no exception. Those days seem so long ago now, when we could relax overlooking the passage in to Oyster Harbour and chat with other customers about their optimistic travel plans.
I took the pictures of the pelicans onwards this morning while we were on our once daily permitted hour of exercise. We walked towards the wild area of the estuary as far as there was a path and where the ibis fished with the oyster catchers while the tide was low. Tomorrow we hope to swim again, four lengths wearing our snorkels to make it easier and see the many fish that live in the seagrass underneath. But now it is raining and a front is passing over this weekend so who knows, swimming in the rain, why not!
I had a nice chat with our retired doctor friend Neville at Marsden Point in NZ this morning. You may remember we used to walk his lovely collie, Chase while we were waiting to leave NZ. He has been asked if he would be willing to go back into service during the epidemic and he is thinking about it, although of course it would make him vulnerable. Like the Aborigines here the Maoris in NZ are very susceptible to our diseases and his practice mostly looked after their medical needs. The photo of the white hulled sailing boat with the tan mainsail is Doumar on her way out to Great Barrier Island earlier this year, in another time.
We had a lovely stay with Malcolm (Jeannie’s brother) and his wife Christine at their sheep station, Te Pui on our way to Perth and I will tell you about that next.
North to Kojonup
27th March 2020. We awoke to thunder, lightning and a little rain last night and hastily put all our portable electronic devices into the microwave and oven, but the sun was back in business this morning.
(I thought it might be a good idea to keep you informed of our daily progress during the Lockdown as well as bring you up to date on our recent escapades, so that is why I start with today and then take a retrospective look back.)
We’ve just got back from our early morning exercise, today was our swimming activity, the second such activity we have done. My target was to do four lengths of the offshore seawater pool, the same as last time. The pool is three sided and made of piles driven into the seabed with pontoons attached to them, just like in a marina. So there is no barrier underneath the pontoons; this means that fish are free to come and go and live in the seagrass beds down there on the bottom.
Rob dug out our snorkels so that as we exercise we can watch the daily lives of numerous different types of fish, so enjoyable. Both the lanes were occupied so I made my way further out into the pool and swam in the lane free area where there were no other people and more seagrass and fishes. There was quite a tide coming in and crossing the pool so one way across was much harder than the other direction which made for variety.
Next time I will go for six lengths. Today Rob did 7 lengths and he is now tucked into the engine compartment changing the raw water pump. The exhaust elbow is showing some corrosion inside and although it probably has a few hundred engine hours left in it Rob will put on the replacement he bought in New Zealand and keep the old one as a spare. There are a number of engineer checks due that we cannot do like timings, clearances, spray angles, alignments and gaps.
We are both hoping that when Darren gets back from his sailing holiday he will still be happy for us to stay here, living on board is at his discretion and of course we hadn’t intended it would be for so long.
Before we left for Kojonup on the 15th March we emptied both water tanks in daily use and Rob washed both tanks out. So now they are full once more and ready for the next year of usage.
Usually the pre-departure chores are done in a mood of happy anticipation of what was to come, this time they were completed more in a mood of dealing with the unexpected pace of CV (coronavirus), a different kind of challenge.
The Falcon took off for Kojonup with a plan to visit Mt Barker for the view and the bakery near its base for some lunch, just look at those Swiss rolls they were enormous. Mark had come down to the yard to say goodbye and we caught him literally on our way out. We sped up the Albany Highway and after Mt Barker turned off for a more scenic route onto the Great Southern Highway near Cranbrook. We found the pink lake that Malcolm had told us about and left the woes of the world behind us just briefly as our short journey ended at the end of the earth track.
From the Rose Maze in Kojonup……….
(Day Pod 29th March 2020
I was standing in the cockpit this morning, wearing my swimsuit and wrapped in a beach towel, contemplating an early swim, when dark clouds moved over the yard. So Rob and I went for a walk instead. We cleared the little beaches and bays around Emu Point and came to the long beach at the head of King George Sound where there were well spaced folk and their oblivious dogs enjoying the fresh air. I peered out across the bay towards the horizon and Southern Ocean, our exit one day, but my mood was not one of yearning, instead I was looking to see if the blue whale, sighted in the sound last week, was still there. I didn’t see it, but it was enough to know that this example of the largest animal in the world had at least paid a visit and was maybe still around.
Yesterday we met Kim and Oscar. Kim was sitting in the open rear doorway of her vehicle while Oscar, a Toby lookalike, (our liver and white, much loved, gone but not forgotten, French Springer Spaniel) was deciding whether he should go for a swim or chase a few seagulls on land instead. “I won’t touch him in case you don’t want us to,” I said. This was difficult because Oscar was by now licking my hand. “Go on,” Kim said “Don’t worry.” Which was just what I hoped she’d say. We chatted and she offered help if we needed it when she heard we were living aboard. We said we were fortunate enough to have the loan of a car. She walks Oscar there most days so we look forward to seeing them both again.)
During the one magical day we had with Malcolm and Christine we went to the Rose Maze in Kojonup. The scent of the roses was delightful and well worth the brief hay fever attack it gave me. The maze was created as the coming together of a community of First Australians and wadjela, as White Folk are known, and Malcolm and his willing team of wood working students made all the wooden fences, gates and seats. Their stories are told on the plaques in the form of excerpts from the journals of some of the women.
Taking a Turn with Tess around the Homestead
(Day Pod 28th March 2020
There is a change in the weather as a front passes south of us and Zoonie wobbles very slightly in her cradle. We have had two treats in the last 24 hours. Rob was returning from town where he extended our internet account and noticed the little café around the corner was open for takeaways. This was good because it not only kept their business going but also pays the fishermen and other suppliers and we enjoyed fish ‘n’ chips in tempura batter in the evening. Second we shared a messenger facetime call with Richard, Sue and James which was fun although due to the time difference we were stone cold sober!)
On the first morning at Te Opu, Malcolm and Christine’s’ farm, I awoke to the sound of birdsong and with the desire to explore in the cool of the early morning. Tess was walking purposefully around the house and I didn’t think she’d mind if I tagged along. Last night she had barked a few times to tell the fox he was to leave the chickens well alone or he would have her to contend with. Which at the age of 17 doggy years, 119 human years is admirably ambitious.
I crept through the dining room to the inviting crazy paving path outside where Tess waited and she showed me her shady little walk that keeps her fit before the sun gets too hot.
It being the end of the summer the grazing and arable land is looking parched and dry but around the homesteads the cool mornings are creating dew on the well cared for grass resulting in an oasis of lushness. The house is built largely of stone and block with a tin roof overhanging generously to provide outside shade. The inviting open cellar door had a particularly romantic French look about it, nice to keep some wine and preserves in there. The vine that covers the posts supporting the veranda roof at the front of the house must have found its own supply of water, see how it thrives. The multitude of windows Malcolm rescued from a building site to build the enclosed dining and living area.
He loves to make alternative use of things that have been discarded and the towel hooks in the bathroom are ceramic power line insulators, they looked deliciously art deco.
The strength of the walls reflects the strength of family love that has been present in this home for years. The two daughters are now grown and gone with families of their own but there are still signs of their happy childhood. The tennis court and BBQ area and little tokens you can spot in the photos make this a warm and welcoming place to stay. Best of all of course was Malcolm and Christine’s company.
The Beetle Beneath my Back
Last night while back aboard Zoons I felt something crawling beneath my back. I sat up, brushed myself off, laid down again and went back to sleep until the same thing happened again. This time I turned on the light and there was a very alive black beetle about half an inch long. Rob carefully gathered it up and popped it outside through the hatch and I pondered how glad I was it wasn’t a black spider with a red spot in which case I wouldn’t be writing this now!
While on the subject of bugs, at Te Opu I commented on the size of the ants on the crazy paving path and Malcolm asked “You want to see some really big ants?”
We bounced along on the quad bike down a gentle hill towards some trees and what looked like a dry stream bed. Well the ants were about an inch long and as you can see and had pink heads, abdomens, legs and antennae and shiny black/red abdomens. I thought Malcolm was quite brave to put his phone down to give an idea of scale and we did not hang around long enough for them to find us!
The skeleton of the dinghy you see next to the dam shows the harsh nature of the climate over a period of time. The stripped plywood skin was lying beneath plant growth next to the hull which was once painted and used by a generation of youngsters to explore the fun of life on water; I could almost hear the screams of delight and lively chatter from years ago.
The sheep match the colour of the earth and the little flock raced towards the hopper of grain as Malcolm spread it along the ground to give them all a fair meal. Rob helped him take some fence posts out of the ground so that once the track into the station is graded rain will run off it into the dam. Brilliant. All they need now is rain.
Keeping on Keeping on
(Day Pod Monday 30th March
Darren is back from his cruise, he had a great time and he is quite happy for us to stay here. We chatted briefly at the allotted safe distance before our morning walk. The yard is busy now with moving machinery and people working on their marine projects. Rob is filling Zoonie’s port water tank and is then going to start on servicing the 10 winches. Jobs arise the more he focuses on Zoonie’s needs.
Talking of spiders as I was recently, I went into the first loo in the public toilets and closed the door to find this baby on the wall. I wasn’t going to get any closer to give an idea of scale before taking the photo and once shot I left briskly. He was at least 4 inches across.
Last night my limbs did not want to rest so we discussed exercising twice a day so we would go to bed more tired. On the radio people are coming up with all sorts of ideas about staying fit and sane in the isolation and adopting a sustainable psyche. How about you all, I think you have been self-isolating a few days more than us? I have always enjoyed structuring my days and that helps now. Also, because we have no idea how all this is going to last I look at each day constructively used as another day less to go to the end of the tunnel. Then as a long distance sailor, I like to prepare for the worst scenario in some ways as time goes on. For example I wrote to Border Control the other day, as us cruisers have to every three months and I asked if it was likely we would still be able to clear out of Carnarvon at the end of September to start across the Indian Ocean and they said there was no reason why we shouldn’t but we may not be allowed in to South Africa, a possibility I understood.)
Was I beginning to feel guilty having such an enjoyable time in Perth in the loveliest weather? No I wasn’t because Rob and I were prepared to obey all new regulations as soon as we met them and our careful interaction was helping to keep people in work and businesses running. After the mint we strolled around the uncrowded esplanade and Elizabeth Quay area hungry enough to focus on eating houses and found The Brew Garden on the island just perfect for our needs. We tucked in to a tasty light lunch of vegan tacos and Caesar Salad washed down with a very pleasant dark beer, brewed on the spot and then noticed there were Espresso Martinis listed on the drinks menu.
You may remember Lauren who is a dear friend of our family and came on the family holiday with us in New Zealand. Well I saw a photo on Facebook of Lauren with her twin sisters Sophie and Chloe all enjoying what looked like Guinness in a champagne glass. Suitably enlightened as to the real nature of the drink Rob and I decided to share one. Very nice but I think it will take quite a lot of experimentation with proportions in order to get the drink to our satisfaction on board! Now there’s a novel occupation for our isolation.
Up to this point our flight home was not cancelled and the camping trip was still on, but rules on 4 square metres individual distancing and limits on numbers in gatherings were being announced; almost something new with every news broadcast or each nervous whispering of nearby strangers.
To bring our flight forward would cost us hundreds of pounds more, Qantas was taking advantage of the situation and I didn’t like that. Some people flying with Qatar are turning up at the airports and getting 10% discount on flights. If we took an earlier flight we would have to cancel the camping trip and most probably, at the end of the frustrating struggle to get a refund, would lose our money anyway along with a lot of emotional effort. Once home we may not be allowed back in to Aussie to re-join Zoonie and continue our odyssey this season and the prospect of another delay like the one we had in New Zealand is something we would really like to avoid if possible.
Were we down at heart? No because the trip north was still on and the next day we were due to meet Walter McGuire, a friend of Tyronne Bell of Canberra, who runs Go Cultural Tours, a first nation look at the environment of Western Australia.